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generallybrontidefeelings · 3 years

Text

Stressed

Rating: NC-17

A/N: Brought to you by this post. I'm tired and sleepy and don't want to make any decisions. The degree is an actual MS you can get from American University in DC. U of Tennessee’s anthropology dept. hosts what’s called a body farm. It's a lab for forensic pathology students. Do NOT I repeat DO NOT look up pictures.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader, Marcus Pike x you

Summary: Marcus Pike is an associate faculty member at your forensics college. You ask him to be your second reader for your thesis, even though you have a huge crush on him. Nothing is better than something, right? By the time you pass your exam, you're so pent up you could scream.

Warnings: cadaver talk, pining, age difference, some power dynamics?, annoying college talk, sex, dirty talk, a God awful metaphor curtesy of Blanche Devereaux, 39

“Take a deep breath.”

You huff in a small shallow breath. Then let it out, and take in a longer, fuller one.

“Now let it out.” You let your cheeks puff up as cool air streams past your lips. “You’ve made huge improvements, and you’ve studied hard. The paper exam will be easy, and the oral will be a cinch.”

You gulp. “I know. It’s just...pre-show jitters, you know?”

He gives you a full smile, and flips the document shut. You hand him the binder clip, accidentally brushing his fingers when you do.

"Anything else I can do for you?"

You swallow, fiddling with your paper edge. God you feel like a twelve year old. You're fucking twenty-seven and about to apply for the FBI, why are you such a sap? He’s not available. Not even remotely. He will be gone in a year, back to the Bureau. There is no reason to nurse a crush. And you curse yourself for asking a man you’re attracted to - you, idiot, idiot! - to spend more time with you. Even if it is reading your dull chapter.

"No, I have everything I need, thanks."

"Then scoot. I have to read like...thirty pages of Tanner's chapter before he gets here."

You pull your bag to your shoulder. "you're not going to get that far," you scoff. The tensing in your shoulders relaxes a little when you stand to leave.

"We'll see," he says. He opens the door of his office for you. You glance back once more, and he's still in the doorway watching you go. "See you tomorrow."

"See you." Your mind swirls back and forth between thoughts of Mr. Pike, your thesis, Pike, your oral defence, your paper exam in two days, Marcus crossing his ankles in his reading chair. And you walk. Straight ahead, not looking back. But when you get to the door handle you turn around. And he's still there. Watching.

You've never been so stressed in your life.

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You met Marcus Pike on a muggy afternoon in August deep in the heart of Tennessee. The air warped off the pavement as you drove together to the School of Anthropology to visit your cadaver lying relaxed and prostrate in the middle of a fenced field. The air is already warm, then lightning flashes in the clouds to your right, and plopping rain drops scatter across the lawn, and dampens A-0017’s second hand suit. His raisinette hands lie against the grass almost like he’s communing with the earth. You watched the water hit his face, and permanently closed eyelids, and shaved head.

You had no business being so fidgety while kneeling next to a cadaver. Agent Marcus Pike and the facility director chat a couple feet away, leaving you to your business with A-0017. Pike had never been to the school’s mysterious forensics lab, even though he had plenty of time to when he was earning his own masters. That’s what he said in his email to you three weeks earlier. He’d heard a first-year student was running a fibrous material experiment and asked to tag along. And you said yes. Why not? He was faculty. It wasn’t unheard of. His email was so polite too, letting you know if you weren’t comfortable he understood. Pike. The name rattled a memory somewhere. So you emailed him back, and the next morning he sent you his itinerary: he would meet you in Tennessee. He’d even pay for the rental car.

You sent your advisor a quick text to ask if he was ‘crazy.’ She’d sent back the laughing emoji. No, she said, Marcus Pike isn’t a crazy. You’ll like him.

You did like him. He was waiting for you at the Hertz desk, and heat licked up your skin when you realized - he was striking. He was the type of man you’d make eyes at in a bar without any hope of even getting a number. His brown hair was neatly trimmed, and he had a softness brought on by a light scruff that didn’t hide his dimples. You barely registered that he was apologizing for not getting to introduce himself before flying out, but promised he was who he said he was. Even pulled out his credentials.

“Bureau?” you said to his badge. “I thought you were an associate professor?” You want to smack yourself.

Oh, “I am,” he replied. He dug in his wallet and pulled out a campus ID that matched yours. “I’m taking an interim year. I thought teaching would be a nice way to ease into DC life.”

Now he was here, sweating under the storm clouds while watching you unbutton A-0017’s shirt, and half listening to the director tell him all about how they kept the lawn looking green despite, ahem, fluids. You sternly told A-0017 to be on their best behavior while you pulled their shirt back to examine some fiber swatches stapled to his rubbery chest.

On the flight back Pike asked you all about your thesis plans. You stuttered as you began. He waited, patient. You were writing on how the FBI could contribute to cultural repatriation efforts internationally by returning art pieces. Do you know what it could do to boost scholarly opportunities? The doors it could open! Why put it in cold storage when it could revitalize movements? Art breathes, after all. You were exhausted by the time the plane landed. Both from answering questions, and from keeping a steadily building tension under wraps. You hoped he didn’t notice how you crossed your legs.

“I’d love to read it.” He handed your backpack down from the overhead bin.

“Maybe you should be my second reader.” You got serious when his face perked up. “I still need one.”

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

That was nine months ago.

Your exams are in a week, and instead of thinking about preparing, all you can think of is that once everything is turned in, you probably won’t see Marcus again. He’s been your anchor these last months, and you’ve gotten used to his solid presence and encouraging platitudes. You cup your hot cheeks because it’s a dirty thought.

He lets you work in his office for a couple hours a week every week. The crammed little space is tight quarters, but he makes room for your laptop anyway. Sometimes you worked together heads bent for full time. Sometimes he read pages from your thesis, and you help him grade some papers from his first-year art history course. And sometimes you drink three pm coffee together and don’t work at all. It’s your favorite time of the week. The glow his praise gives you is embarrassing. And he’s an easy companion - nope, colleague. Your heart beats and your mouth waters every time you’re fifteen feet from his office door. The cold door knob jolts you took. You harbor a secret. Keep it warm in your belly. It swirls hungrily deep in you.

But now it’s a problem. You’re so distracted. Every time you leave his office, you’re tense from want. Your body is already over-caffeinated and achy from sitting in hard library chairs so long. But you keep going. Every time an anxious heat lights up the alarms in your head your instinct is to ask him what to do. You have to rest your hands in your head and remind yourself: he isn’t your babysitter, he’s a grown man who doesn’t have boundless time to tell you what to do. You have to figure it out yourself. Even if you really just want him to tell you what this or that section needs, is the title here misleading, is it lunch time, do you think the tone here is condescending?

What do you think? What do you want it to look like?

You think you want to grab his dumb button down collars and bite his lip. You want it to look flushed and tousled and desperate. You want to ride him in his reading chair with the door locked. It just isn’t fair.

The night before your first exam you take z-quil, drink lavender tea, and read a chapter of your favorite book to relax. Your phone buzzes at nine. It’s Marcus: good luck! You’re going to do great! Well. Better take some more Z-quill now that your heart is palpitating.

You pass both tests in excellent standing - MS in International Relations: complete. Pike attends the oral exam. Your skin goes hot when he smiles at you when the committee declares you exceed expectations. He invites you for a celebratory drink in the next couple days, which means you have two days to sternly wrangle your crush back into the dirty corner she came from.

You fail miserably.

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“Look,” he says, setting his beer down on the glass bar counter. “I know it’s not my business, but you still look stressed out. Are your grades bothering you?”

The rim of your gin and tonic is wet with condensation from where your finger circles it. “No, they’re great.”

He bumps your shoulder with his. “Then what’s the damage? You’re jumpier than a…” he trails off thinking a good metaphor. He squints at you a little.

“A virgin at a prison rodeo?” you supply. He inhales sharply, eyes wide. “You can laugh.”

“I didn’t know you watched ‘The Golden Girls,” he says. His tone is admiring. “I was going to say jumpier than a graduate student giving their defense.” You purse your lips when he raises his eyebrows at you. “Can I help at all?”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob when he takes another sip of his beer. The soft orange lights in the bar spill around his jaw and throat, they flicker in his irises. His face in three quarter profile is august. You’re utterly exhausted from the polite ‘student mentor’ dance you’ve had to do for months while keeping your desire at bay. And more than that, you didn’t want to answer. You wanted to show him and let him decide. The sultry washboard and piano music give you that last boost.

You make sure he’s watching you, then you slowly reach out and wrap your fingers around his wrist.

Then you wait.

Marcus pauses from lifting his beer bottle, eyes glued to your hand on his wrist. It’s petite against him. He stares at your baby blue fingernails pairing beautifully with his Stirling watch - and he feels himself harden.

All the skin on your body stands at attention when he meets your eyes. Everything in them tells you he wants you just as bad. There’s a hesitant curve above his eyebrow though. You get it. You were his student - he’s such a sweet man he wouldn’t even dream of using a power dynamic like that to get laid. Your breath comes in short heaves.

“The semester ended thirty-six minutes ago,” you say over the music. He takes a deep breath. You aren’t his student anymore. Not according to the school, anyway.

You want him to decide. If he doesn’t, you’ll go home and fall apart under your fingertips thinking about how hot it would have been to lift your dress and sit on his cock while wearing your thigh highs.

“Do you want to leave?” You nod, resisting the urge to bite your lip.

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Marcus’s apartment is homey. Streetlights flood the floor of the living room through the street facing windows. You turn this way and that to inspect the dark areas that look like bookshelves while he hangs up your coat. You squeeze your hands at your sides, because this is happening. You’re in his house. The hardwood floor is cold under your stocking feet.

You jump when he puts his hands on your shoulders from behind you, holding you a mere inch from his body. You bite your lip when his nose bumps into the back of your head.

“Are you sure about this?”

“You already asked me that,” you reply, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. You want so badly to tell him to tell you what to do. That you don’t want to make any decisions. Brain is worn out. That you want to please him, and not think. Oh, to be a freshmen simply sponging up information.

“I know,” he slides his hands to your biceps and turns you around. “I can check in again, can’t I? He cups your face when you nod. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please,” you have to stop yourself from saying something incriminating, like mister Pike, or sir, or professor.

You clutch the front of his button down to anchor yourself when his lips brush yours. His mouth is soft. It coaxes you to open so he can dive into you, his tongue swipes your bottom lip, and you respond by pressing into him. You stay pliant under him, letting him lead. Your legs feel on the verge of collapse when you break away. You can’t stand it anymore.

“I want to suck your cock.”

Both of you freeze. For a second you wonder if you’ve given him a heart attack. But you watched his thighs on the car ride back and couldn’t stop thinking about kneeling between them. Your mouth waters. Marcus can’t breathe. He’s straining against his zipper. After your declaration he wants it too.

“Okay, honey,” he breathes. He brushes your ear with his thumb. “If that’s what you want, we’ll do that.”

He tries to draw you backward toward his room where he can turn on a lamp and properly pay tribute to your body, but you pull him back. You tug him to his mid-century armchair - he has the twin to it in his office. His mouth goes dry. You have to know. He looks into your face, and from the way you’ve averted your eyes, you know.

“Please?” you say. It sounds like a sob.

From this close you can smell the vanilla and bergamot of his soap. He sits, waiting for you. When you don’t move he holds his hand out for you to take.

“Come here, honey,” he draws you close. The top of your dress swings a little and he groans when he sees the break of your dress to what he thought were tights. Marcus studies your face in the second hand street light - your mouth parted, your eyes blown wide. Your hand in his is hot. “Hey, if this is overwhelming, or not what you want-”

“It is,” you correct him.

“Tell me what’s wrong then,” he requests. You feel pained. If you don’t say it now you never will.

“Tell me what to do.” Your head aches from the stress of carrying it for so long. “I’ve had to make my own decisions for months, and I don’t want to anymore. Just - for five minutes-” you bring your hands to your cheeks and press them against your hot skin. You watch as he realizes what you want. He nods in slow motion.

“Okay,” he says. “Kneel for me.” He gets even harder when you sink to your knees. Your hands rest in your lap. Waiting. He can’t believe this is happening. Thank goodness he’s going back to the Bureau in three months. He couldn’t face the other faculty - fuck, your advisor - after this. Leaning forward he cups your chin and kisses you. You squeeze your thighs together. He kisses your ear and says lowly, “take my cock out, honey. I want you to suck me off.”

When you take him in your mouth as far as you can, you look into his face. His mouth has fallen open. His ears have turned red from flushing. It’s indescribable. It makes your mouth water further around his hard length. It’s heavy on your tongue. You move up and down his shaft leisurely, trying to savor it. Letting saliva run down onto his skin as your tongue works the spongy head. You reach up to work the base with your hand when he tells you ‘no’.

“Just your mouth.” Fuck. You moan around him as a ripple pulls from deep in your core. The vibrations of you moaning make him jolt and heave. For a few moments he apologies while you breathe deeply, then resume. You take a mouthful of him. It’s feasting. It’s mindless.

His fingers brush the side of your face, and tenderly cups the back of your head. You want to make him understand this is what you want. So you slide down as far as you can comfortably, and wait. Swallowing thickly around his length

“Fuck, honey,” he groans. He gets it, taking both hands and moving your head the pace he wants. You can tell he hasn’t been asked for this often. Maybe ever. You close your eyes and just feel. His cock filling your mouth. Aches forming around your jaw. Tears leaking out of your eyes from your concentration. Your pussy wetting through your underwear. Marcus pulling your hair. You swallow hard, then he stops. And pushes you off.

You whine in protest.

“I hear you, honey,” he says softly. His voice is hoarse. “Another time. I want you to unwind right now.” Your pussy clenches.

He takes you back to his bedroom and helps you undress. He lifts your dress over your head, and kneels to help you out of your thigh highs. One day, if you’ll let him, he’ll fuck you with them on, but he likes to see all of a woman the first time he does anything to her. He kisses the bit of skin above the waistband of your panties before standing to kiss your lips. Your help him push them down your hips until they fall to your ankles. The soft gasp he lets out at the sight of your underwear and bare body is nothing short of gluttonous.

“Lay down.”

He strips while you watch. He does it without taking his eyes off of you. There’s hunger in them. This man has an appetite, you know it. The fabric rustles pleasantly between the sound of both of you breathing. Far away, ambulance sirens blare in another neighborhood, but here in his apartment the wet sound of cars passing in the rainy street are the closest accompaniment.

“I want to touch you here,” he tells you, palming your sex and making you squeak. It’s so forward.

“Do it,” you breathe, and part your legs further for him. He leans in and kisses your temple, murmuring ‘good girl’ and you swear you could black out.

You’re already so wet when his fingers part your folds to greet the new territory. “Did sucking my cock get you wet?” He sounds amazed. He tastes one fingertip before putting it back to tease your folds. “I wonder how wet you would be just holding it in your mouth while you read.”

“Oh-” a ripple works down your spine. He smirks. The tip of his finger brushes just inside your lips to tease your entrance.

“I’m going to put my fingers in you. You,” he pauses to kiss your cheek, “relax. You earned it.” He rubs his nose up and down yours, and you nudge him back just as he slips one long finger into you. You’re glad he’s being sweet like this. It’s the perfect blend of firmness and care. You want him to dominate you one someday, maybe, but right here and now, the combination of his low voice and steady fingers is ideal. Marcus kisses your cheek and mouth as he works his finger in and out of you. It’s thick and reaches further than you ever could. You spread your legs even further to tell him, more.

Without removing his hand he moves down your body to lick your clit. He sucks and flicks it as he coaxes more wetness out of your leaking cunt. Carefully he pulls the finger out and presses his wet hand to the inside of your thigh to keep you open. He laps into you, covering the muscles with lubricant because you’re going to need it. You see his face just as he decides you’re ready; it’s contemplative, like he’s concentrating. Then he slides two fingers deep into you.

“Oh, fuck, that’s so fucking good,” your voice crescendos. You reach for his shoulder as he comes up to lie beside you. His skin is warm under your palm. You buck your hips looking for something else, seeking, wanting-

“Stay still.” You still immediately. “Just feel it, baby. I want you to be ready for me.” You know what he means. His cock is thick and smearing against your hip. He was big in your mouth, he’s going to be big while pushing into you. His fingers keep moving while he kisses the tips of your nipples. When he takes one between his teeth and tugs you break. Your mouth opens, and your legs clamp reflexively around his wrist. Your pussy gushes around his fingers - you can feel it. You can feel how his movements change from a drag as a slide. He keeps pumping. He doesn’t give up until he’s sure you’ve felt every aftershock. He’d love to take his time and work a third in one day - if he can - but tonight, he wants to move on. After you swallowed his cock in his sitting room chair he’s been thinking of rewarding you.

You feel him slip his fingers out, and roll away to the nightstand. He looks back at you, and his eyes soften a little before he asks, “do you want me to use a condom?”

“No,” you say and reach for his bicep to pull him back toward you. He comes willingly. “I have an IUD. And I’m clean.” He smiles, flinging the packet over his shoulder. It makes you giggle, but it sounds hysterical to your ears. You watch him reach down and pump his cock with the hand that was just inside you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

“Look at me,” he orders. Your eyes snap open. Marcus crashes his lips on yours. The hand not dripping from your cunt cups the back of your head. “I want to see your eyes while I fuck you.”

His blunt head breaks into you, you lose all thought. He sinks further in, until you’re squirming on his length because he’s stretching you. You suck air in and will your body will stay still like he suggested for his fingers. You look into Marcus’s eyes the whole time, trying to tell him how good he feels. You can’t make the words leave your throat. He pulls your head to him, kisses your mouth until you compose yourself and lie still. Then he gets to work. The breadth of him stills you anew. For the first time in months you fully relax, hardly making a sound as he thrusts steadily. You stare into Marcus’s eyes while your mouth falls open as he slides into you, and listen to the wet sounds of your pussy and the bed frame creaking.

Then he starts talking.

“Do you know how good you look in those blue trousers? I want to grab your ass every time you wear them,” he rumbles. His pace picks up a hair, and he feels harder in you somehow. He drops to his forearm. “I love watching it when you walk out of my office.” You knew it. “And that damn cardigan you never wear a shirt under? Those buttons slip right open, don’t they?” He punctuates it with a deep thrust that makes you squeak. “Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Wear it over for dinner. I’ll bite your tits through it.”

He fucks into you harder, sending shivers up your spine with every thrust. It moves you up the bed until you have to reach a hand up and press back against the headboard. You clutch him with the other, looping around his shoulder to feel the muscles in his arms pull and tug as he moves in you, working you up to another release Soon enough, the coil in your belly tightens and he reaches to worry your clit with deft fingers. His eyes never leave you. You think this man could make the hardest fuck feel like making love.

“I need more,” you tell him. You’re too embarrassed to ask for what you want. A tear leaks out of your eye because his thickness is so good, but you want something else too. You always underestimate him. He grins because he knows - he’s a detective. He figured it out. He leans down to rest his forehead on your temple.

“You’re doing so well,” he says. You arch up into him, your breasts brush his chest. “Your wet pussy is so sweet. It’s taking me so well. Are you gonna be respectful? Gonna listen?” You have to hold your breath as your hips tense. “Be good and come on my cock.” Oh fuck. “Say it.”

Your voice is wet with joy. “Yes, sir.”

“Such a good girl.”

Sparks lick up your back and through your cunt, forcing Marcus deeper into when you lift your lips. He slows to let you enjoy all your release. He kisses your neck, your jaw, your lips. Then when he hears your content sigh, he buries his face in your neck and chases his own release. He comes with an accompanying rumble from deep in his chest. You moan in return and lift your lips to catch him as he slumps, barely holding his weight off of you.

Water runs in the washroom as you tug the sheets back. The light clicks off, and Marcus appears with a washcloth. His dimple appears when you lean back and let him clean your tender flesh. He sits on the edge of the bed next to your hips, running his knuckles on the soft side of your breast.

“Stay the night,” says. “I’ll cook you breakfast.”

“Hm,” you say, mock contemplative. You run your fingers down his chest. He preens under the affection. “I will. I feel really good.” Your cheeks tingle at the admission. He smiles wide and bright.

He comes back from putting the cloth in the hamper. You roll so he can run his hands the length of your side

“Thank you,” you murmur. He lifts his face from where he’s been peppering your waist with kisses. His brow is furrowed in amused confusion. “For being good to me. For caring about what happened to me.” You’ll tell him the horror stories your friends have from their college another time.

He sighs and cups your cheek. “I like doing it. You’re bright. Supporting you is a privilege. Especially when I know that brain is going to put us all to shame one day.” You could cry.

“I’ve liked you since the body farm,” you admit. He wrinkles his nose. “I know. Not very romantic.”

“I liked you since you thought my campus ID was more official than my FBI badge.”

“I didn’t think that!”

“Get some sleep,” he says. A wicked glint comes to his eye. “I am going to wear you out before lunch.” You wiggle to get comfortable in the sheets and he curls over your back to hold you to his chest.

Orange light peeks through the gap in his blackout drapes. You eye him over your shoulder then settle into the pillow. All the tension in your shoulders is gone.

part 2

#marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #reader insert #fanfiction #writing #the mentalist fanfiction #I took some liberties with UT's school of anthros forensics lab #it does exist #DO NOT LOOK UP PICTURES #IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH #DON'T DO IT #I AM NOT SQUEAMISH AND DO RESEARCH WITH CADAVERS #BUT IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH #DONT #DO #IT

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cloudy-minded-idiot · 3 years

Text

secrets

pairing: Shuri x reader

warnings: none that I could think of

word count: ~2,200 words

a/n: requested by @junajackson. sorry that it took me so long to write this! between uni and having to evacuate my appartment for a while, I really didn’t have a lot of freetime to write. I hope you like it :)

summary: shuri comes to visit the avengers compound, and your teammates dicover that you’ve been secretly dating the Wakandan princess for a while now.

The sun was already starting to rise by the time you returned to the compound, bathing the sky in a light pink hue. It was a pretty sight for your sore eyes. You felt drained, the way you often did after a mission. You had been gone for almost a week without being able to contact anyone, getting very little sleep as you had to fight your way out of one mess after the other. Ultimately, the mission was a success but exhausted as you were, you didn’t have it in you to celebrate.

You were welcomed back by an agent who briefly reminded you when your mission report would be due. You muttered out a confirmation and made a beeline for your room, stripping yourself from your dirty clothes and jumping under the shower. Cleaning up made you feel a lot better, and the warm water did wonders for your aching muscles. Dressed in something comfortable, you walked to your bedroom, ready to call it a day and catch some sleep. You had barely covered yourself with a blanket when a disembodied voice interrupted the tranquility of your room.

“Mr. Stark has requested your presence in the common room.”

Burying your head in your pillow, you let out a groan.

“Do I have to?”

Even to your own ears, your voice sounded whiney. The AI refrained from commenting on that, though.

“Mr. Stark is giving you five minutes to get to the common room and advises you to make yourself look presentable.”

Grumbling out some incoherent swear words, you stumbled out of bed and slowly got changed and pulled on some shoes. After assuring your hair looked alright, you made the small track to the common room. Tony looked up when you entered but, seeing your glare, refrained from making whatever stupid comment he had on the tip of his tongue.

Silently he passed you a cup of coffee which you received with a grateful nod. Taking a sip of the dark fluid, you let its warmth and the caffeine wash over you.

“How was your mission?” Tony asked tentatively, almost as if scared you would snap at him.

“Long and exhausting. I had to ditch my phone and comms the first day and barely had time to sleep or eat,” you took another long sip of your drink before throwing him a side glance, “I really hope for the sake of you that this is important.”

Tony was quick to assure you that it was, perhaps fearing that you would lose your cool otherwise. And yes, you were tired, but you were not irrational. The worst you would do is hit him in the arm and cuss him out, maybe prank him, later on, to get even.

“Important visitors are arriving from Wakanda today. We’re doing a bit of collaborative work on a new suit, improve some of my technology, etcetera. I need someone to show them around while I’m at a meeting with Fury. Think you’re up for that?”

You visibly perked up once you heard about Wakanda. You were more than familiar with their technology. After all, you were dating the head of their science and information department, although Tony didn’t know that. No one on the team did. After all, it hadn’t been until very recently that Wakanda decided to open up to the world and share its knowledge and technology. So, naturally, secrecy had to be part of the deal at the beginning of your relationship. And since then, you had just never found the time or the opportunity to broach the subject.

“I think I'll manage.”

Tony patted your shoulder with a grateful nod.

“Good. I know you’re tired, but I'll owe you one after this,” he said, distractedly checking his watch as he spoke, “I gotta run. Can’t keep Fury waiting any longer. Tell the Wakandans I'll be back by lunchtime. Keep them entertained until then, alright?”

At your affirmation, Tony thanked you and left you alone in the common room. You made yourself a second cup of coffee, already feeling better than before. That might also have something to do with the excitement of knowing your girlfriend might be coming to visit. After all, she was the head of the technology and information exchange program, so it would only make sense for her to be the one arriving today.

When FRIDAY alerted you that the Wakandan jet was preparing to land, you were out of your seat and down at the landing lane in no time. Some agents threw you weird looks, but you couldn’t care less. The plane had just shut off its engine when you arrived, waiting a couple of feet away to leave enough space for the small boarding ramp.

First to step off the jet, were two Dora Milaje carrying their standard sonic spear and serious expressions. The two warriors remained at either side of the door, eyeing the terrain with watchful eyes. Your own were fixed on the door while practically bouncing on the back of your feet in anticipation. As soon as you recognized the silhouette of your girlfriend in the doorway, you couldn’t help the big goofy smile that came to your face.

Her eyes trailed over the small airport before finally landing on you. Face lighting up, she matched your grin with one of her own. It had been so long since you had last seen Shuri in person, your heart stammered a bit just at the sight of her. The Wakandan princess quickly descended the ramp, immediately engulfing you in a hug that you returned just as fiercely.

“I was not sure you would be here when I arrived,” she admitted, releasing you just enough so that she could really look at your face, “I haven’t heard from you since you left for your mission a week ago.”

She gave you a playfully reproachful look, causing you to grimaced sheepishly.

“I just came back an hour ago. I would have called, but sadly my phone was one of the few casualties of my mission. Anyways,” stepping back a little, you cleared your throat and jokingly bowed slightly before your girlfriend, continuing in a mockingly formal tone.

“Princess Shuri, I have the honor to officially welcome you and the Dora Milaje to the Avengers Compound. Sadly, Mr. Stark will not be available for the next hours. Until then, I can offer you a tour of the parameters, if you like?”

You held out your hand in silent offer.

She bowed her head in thanks, lightly putting her hand on yours.

“Why thank you, we would appreciate that very much.”

Unable to keep up the show any longer, you both started to giggle before you motioned for her to come along.cHolding hands, you walked her through the most important parts of the compound, ending the tour in the main lab that Tony liked to use. Shuri looked around with an appraising gaze, silently evaluating the different pieces of equipment and machinery as you leaned against the table in the center of the room.

“Not as good as what I have at home, but it will do,” was her verdict, and you laughed slightly.

“Don’t tell Tony that, or he might be tempted to renovate again. He likes to pride himself on having the best of everything.”

“Oh, but he has already admitted that I have the better tech, has he not? Or I wouldn’t be here.”

“True,” you conceded, “So what do you guys have planned? You’re not going to make him a vibranium suit, are you?”

She shook her head, joining you on your side of the table, “We were more thinking along the line of nanotechnology. Something like my brother's Black Panther suit. Easy to carry around, quick to put on. Much more practical.”

You rubbed the back of your neck, trying to sound nonchalant as you asked your next question.

“So, how long do you suppose this would take?”

She hummed, taking a couple of steps closer to you.

“Two, three days at most,” she said, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling your closer, “But for you, I might stretch it out a little. Give us more time together.”

You smiled adoringly at her, leaning in to press a long kiss to her lips. She returned it eagerly, letting out a content sigh. You really had missed her, more than you could ever put into words. And obviously, that sentiment was shared. After a few moments, you pulled apart to catch your breath, resting your foreheads together, breath mingling in the space between you. You stayed like that for a while, just content to hold each other and be close again.

“Almost forgot, I have something for you,” she whispered after a minute, releasing you to reach into her pocket.

“Oh, uh, I didn’t get you any gifts,” you muttered out, a bit embarrassed. She dismissed your worry with a shake of her head. Taking your hand in hers, she slid something onto your wrist. Shuri watched you with anticipation as you slowly realized what it was.

“You made me a Kimoyo bracelet?”

Your eyes were probably wide as saucers, a finger tentatively trailing over the engravings on the vibranium beads. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her nod.

“It’s easier for me to contact you with this than on one of your old school grandpa phones, and I thought it might be useful to you on your missions. It’s no big deal, really.”

She shrugged at the end, trying to play this gesture off. You looked up at her in wonder, quite aware that despite her words, this was, in fact, quite a big deal. For one, vibranium was really expensive. For another, Wakandans weren’t known for just handing out Kimoyo beads to anyone. This not only demonstrated how much she trusted you but also that she believed that the two of you were in this for the long run. Your adoration must have shown on your face because Shuri immediately groaned.

“Oh no, I know that look. Don’t you start getting sentimental on me,” she warned you without any malice. You smiled at her softly, unable to do anything about your expression.

“I won’t, I promise.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, overdramatically throwing her hands up in the air.

“You’re already doing it. Alright, I’m outta here.”

The Wakandan princess turned to go, but you gently took her hand and pulled her back into an embrace.

“I love you, Shuri,” you told her, your voice conveying all the emotions you felt. Her expression softened at your admission, and she leaned in to give you a small kiss.

“I love you, too, you big sap.”

“What's going on here?”

Both of you blinked in confusion, slowly turning to look at the door without letting go of each other. In the entrance of the lab, staring at you with faces ranging from shock to confusion and surprise, stood Tony, Steve, and Natasha.

You cleared your throat, feeling your face heat up, and slowly let go of Shuri, still keeping one of her hands in yours.

“Hey, what are you guys doing here?”

Steve was the one that spoke up, vaguely gesturing towards your girlfriend.

“We came to formally welcome the Princess.”

“Looks like Y/n has done enough welcoming for us all,” Natasha muttered, only snickering when Steve sent her a reproachful look for her comment. Tony was still regarding you flabbergasted.

“You,” Tony took off his ever-present sunglasses motioning between you and Shuri, “And her? Since when?”

“Shuri and I have been dating for almost a year now.”

“A year?” Tony repeated incredulously

“Back when Wakanda ‘s borders were still closed to the world,” Shuri sonfirmed, “With all the secrecy surrounding our technology, Y/n and I thought it would be best to keep our relationship secret too.”

“And after that, I just didn’t know how to tell you guys,” you added sincerely.

Tony looked as though he was about to ask more questions, but luckily Cap intervened, flashing you a smile.

“Well, I’m happy for you two. You look like you're happy together.”

Shuri squeezed your hand encouragingly, knowing how nervous you had been, not knowing how the team would react. Having the Captain’s blessing, even if you didn’t really need it, was appreciated.

“Thanks, Steve.”

“At least this explains why you’ve been having so many late-night phone calls. Good for you,” Natasha teased you, her words having the desired effect of making you groan in embarrassment.

“I guess I’m happy for you, too,” Tony admitted reluctantly after being prompted byone of Steve's stern looks, “But I'll be much happier after your girlfriend helps me with my suit. So shoo, out of the lab. Play time's over, let's get working.”

The billionaire made a motion for you all to leave, Natasha and Steve complying readily, saying their goodbyes to Shuri. Rolling your eyes, you followed his demand as well, but not without leaning in to kiss Shuri’s cheek.

“I'm beat anyways. I haven’t slept in a minute.”

She released your hand with one last small squeeze.

“Get some rest. I'll see you later.”

You were barely out of the lab when, much to Tony’s dismay, you heard Shuri brag about her own lab's much better equipment. You still had a fond smile on your face by the time you finally laid down in your bed.

___________________________________________

taglist: @fireflyglass @madamevirgo @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @penparkz

#shuri x reader #marvel reader insert #request

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funtimebunnyblog · 3 years

Text

Me: *receives this request*

Me: *sips my 3rd coffee of the day from my raccoon mug in the pitch dark of my room*

Me: My time has come...

Pillarmen (separate) with a coffee addicted, sarcastic, career focused s/o (who doesn’t get enough sleep)...

(under the cut for length!)

Kars:

"Have you eaten today?" The Pillarmen questioned you, looming over your desk in the dark of your Office.

"Yes." You answered simply, not bothering to tear your eyes from the laptop screen or the sea of words it held sitting before you. Kars however knew better than to leave it at just that, folding his arms across his chest as he cocked an eyebrow.

Kars frowned to himself as his eyes took in your workspace, trying not to focus on the fact that was littered with disorganized papers, food wrappers and a few empty mugs.

He would never let his desk degenerate into something even close to this mess.

"Alright. What did you eat?"

Kars clicked his tongue, letting out the sigh he knew he was going to make upon making the decision to check in on you in the first place. He had known very well this conversation would be steered into a direction like this.

A silence fell over the room, your the clicking of keyboard keys stalling for the briefest second before resuming.

"Coffee." Came the answer.

"Coffee is NOT a meal." He said curtly.

"I know it's not a meal, it's a vegetable." You replied without missing a single beat.

He pursed his lips, "Now what makes you say that?"

"It came from beans."

"Something to eat first, then you may finish your work. And then it's straight to bed with you." He ordered, carrying you downstairs to the kitchen. It was late and he knew that if he didn't set these boundaries you would be hunched over, typing away at your messy little desk all hours of the night.

Without another word you were picked up out of your office chair like nothing more than a common house cat and thrown over his shoulder, the massive man rolled his eyes as you whined that you had only a couple more pages to do and you were trying to finish.

He ignored your protests as much as he disregarded the sluggish pounds of your fists on his backside.

Needless to say, he didn't want a repeat of last time that happened. Coffee and redbull brew was a potent mixture he wanted to keep out of your reach from now on, no matter how tired you claimed to be.

"Ok, Mom." You bit back, finally giving up on your futile squirming for the night. You shot him your best glare as he set you down on the kitchen counter, the rings under your bleary eyes only becoming more prominent as he once again ignored your words and your stare, getting right into fixing you something quick to eat.

Kars wasn't a person to be spoken to in that way by anyone (they never usually lived long enough to get such remarks out) but you were much different of course. In fact, your sharp tongue was easily matched by his quick wit; it only made you an even stronger pair to be reckoned with in his opinion.

With only a quirk of his lips as a response to your sarcastic quip, a cookie was shoved into your mouth.

"Here. Perhaps this will sweeten up your sour, my child." He said, now fully getting on your level as he busied himself making you a sandwich.

A smile curled at the corners of your full mouth as you chewed away, your demeanor just a little lighter as sweet chocolate goodness tickled your senses. However, chocolate did little to coat the silver of your tongue.

"Bite me." You spat playfully, a few crumbs escaping your lips along with the words.

"You know better than to threaten me with a good time, dearest." Kars responded, not even lifting his eyes from the cutting board as he sliced away at a cucumber.

You nearly choked on the sweet you were savoring as you doubled over in laughter, making Kars smile to himself in triumph.

Esidisi:

"What are you doing?" Esidisi watched you with curious interest as you began to depart from the kitchen, just seconds after making your entrance, the entire pot of black coffee he had just prepared in your hand.

The steaming pot of rich and buzzing Caffeine was snatched from your grasp in a fraction of a second, you blinked to find squirming tendrils of veins spiriting it away back to your Husband.

"I'm flipping oyster burgers for the King of Spain, what does it look like?" You asked without even a thought, an impressive feat as it seemed like you were mere seconds away from falling over.

Disheveled wasn't even a word to describe your appearance. Your hair in disarray and wearing the same clothes as you had yesterday; you looked like you had been put through the ringer not once but a few times.

"Hey!" You cried, fully turning on him. It only made the smirk at the corner of his mouth grow as you advanced on him, stomping angrily as you went; inevitably you were only making yourself more adorable in his eyes. "Give that back! I need to get some work done!"

Taking the entire pot with you was the most elegant solution in your eyes rather than coming back downstairs every so often to refill your mug. You definitely needed the quantity of this pot if you wanted to stay awake any longer to complete your workload.

"Ah ah ah, not so fast little oyster flipper!" He laughed, holding the pot far out of your reach and pushing you at arms length as you attempted to make a grab for it.

Esidisi was always amused by your fiery determination when it came down to your work and the lengths you went through to get it done but he knew when enough was enough.

"What I want to know is, did you get any sleep last night?" He questioned, a bare brow raising; a look betraying his genuine concern for you in the midst of his jest.

The Pillarman was not going to let you take the pot of coffee all the way back to your office to chug like an oversized movie soda as you pushed through more piles of papers. You had been up there practically three days straight, basically just surviving on the stuff at this point.

If you weren't going to take care of yourself, he supposed he'd just have to do it for you.

"Er... uh..."

You blinked slowly, the raw stinging of your eyes didn't quite help you in forming a convincing response.

You could've swore you nodded off once, maybe twice, at your desk sometime in the middle of the night but you weren't sure for how long exactly. It probably didn't even come close to qualifying as "sleep" in terms of rest.

"Mm-hmm. That's what I thought." He hummed, putting the pot of coffee back in its rightful place. A sound of surprise managed to escape your lips as he picked you up, carrying you out of the kitchen like you were nothing more than a toddler.

"Wh-Where are we going?" You questioned, blinking stupidly and trying to recover from your slight shock.

"Hmm, not Spain. Sorry, you won't be flipping any burgers today, my little spit-fire." He responded, his tone fluid enough to rival your second-nature sarcasm.

Your lips came together, squirming in his hold as you connected the dots. "I can't go to bed! I still have woooork!" You whined, pushing against him as if that would do anything in his powerful grasp. "I'm not tired!"

"Really? Oh, you could've fooled me." He chuckled, the rumbling of his chest against yours only making sleepy shivers dance through your body.

"I just need some coffee! That's all, c'mon!"

"No more coffee for you. You drank enough to last you a fortnight, yesterday."

He was so warm and comfortable, a much better feeling than any sized mug of coffee you could guzzle down would leave you; your fidgeting had come to a complete stop without you realizing it.

"I just..." You were cut off by a yawn forcing its way out of you. "...just a few more... p-papers..."

"Not today you're not." He chided softly, a hand rubbing tender little circles into your back with heated fingers. You knew that he knew it was only making you more sleepy (not to mention more frustrated) by the second. "You're having a sleep, something proper to eat later and a shower and then you can work and drink all the coffee you want."

Just a few more papers. Just a few more papers.... Just a few more papers.... Just... a few... more...

By the time Esidisi had reached the top of the stairs, your struggle had ceased all together and you had fallen limp in his arms; completely and utterly asleep.

The litany in your head fell silent as your eyelids drooped, losing yourself in the warmth of your Husbands embrace as the swaying of his movement rocked you as he walked along.

So many cheeky things you wanted to say died like flickering embers in your brain, unable to escape your lips this time.

Wamuu:

"Beloved?" The Warrior pushed open the door to your office, peering into the dark room with a frown. "Are you in here?"

"No. I'm on the Moon." Your voice (sounding a little worn but still holding that familiar pinch of playfulness) cut through the dark, coming right from your desk where you were hunched over and drawing away; the dim light from your tablet was the only thing cutting through the shadows of your cave.

He couldn't help but notice it was the exact spot he had left you when he departed early this morning to go do some training.

Warm, golden light shrouded you and your cluttered desk area, making you blink in surprise. You hadn't really realized that it had gotten dark at all and for the briefest of seconds you wondered how late exactly it had gotten; you shook your head quickly as you regained your focus on your work.

Nonetheless, Wamuu smiled softly and entered your workspace. It was an easy feat for the Pillarman to make his way through despite the darkness cloaking the room as he had most excellent night vision.

However, upon reaching your side, he reached over and flicked on your table lamp. He knew that the dark wasn't exactly doing your Human vision much good.

"Thank you." You mumbled, swiping your digital pen across the screen with slow and careful movements.

Wamuu hummed softly, leaning over you with a curious eye to see your work better.

"That looks very nice." He commented, the corners of his full lips tugging into a sweet smile as he admired your handiwork. You never ceased to amaze him with your little drawings and sketches.

You needed to get this piece done by the weekend and you wanted it done today so it could be out of your way. Each slip up of your hand or a line only made you feel more exhausted and more picky, lines overlapped and blurred and you could no longer take in the picture anymore; just your mistakes and its flaws.

A tired sigh escaped your lips, "I just can't get the shading right. I think I've had to redo it 8 times now..." you grumbled, only getting increasingly frustrated at the setback, a hand unconsciously reaching up to scrub at your eye.

Your eyeballs were starting to burn from focusing on the screen too long, a feeling much akin to being rubbed raw with sandpaper.

"Have you been drawing all day?" He questioned, turning his gaze down to the crown of your head with worry.

The Warriors smile fell as he took in your awry state more closely, he definitely didn't miss the umpteen mugs of coffee littering your space (some of which were only half-finished and long gone cold by now).

Did you even move at all while he had been gone? When was the last time you showered? Ate? Changed your clothes?

Really it was the best answer you could give, all you knew was that it was dark and you were sore and tired and your hand was cramping... so it was more than likely you had spent the entirety of the day working.

Once again, your movements stalled before slowly regaining focus, your movements slothy and lacking your usual grace.

"I guess..." you answered lamely.

Again.

Wamuu shook his head, you had been drawing all night last night and you had promised to go to bed after he kissed you goodbye this morning. It was obvious you forgot your promise and kept working.

The drawing tablet was easily plucked from your grasp, making you jump in surprise and reflexively make a grab for it.

"Wamuu-- wha--?!"

"This won't do." He said, quickly hitting the save button on your piece of art as he pulled the tablet further from your reach. "You're done for today."

"What? No! I--" You made an attempt to snatch it back but the hulking man wasn't having any of it, gazing down at you with stern double-ringed emeralds.

For now, he was taking matters into his own hands.

"No. You've worked far too long. Look at you beloved, you've become nothing but a shell!" He chastised, walking past you and placing your tablet on the highest shelf of your office; far, far from your reach.

You would only get it back once you were rested and cared for.

He pushed open the bathroom door with careful ease, not even struggling as he held you and set you down on the toilet.

You were picked up with ease, cradled in the Warriors arms like he was rescuing you from the battlefield as he marched out of the room. Your whines and cries and pleas to be put down went ignored, even as you pounded weakly on his chest.

You had originally thought he was taking your straight to the bedroom to put you down for a sleep but no, he walked right past the room without even a passing glance.

"Sit there." He told you, pressing a tender kiss to your head; the softness of his actions rendering you silent. "Let me handle this."

Your previous protests, your frustrations and any and all thoughts to your work had died all together by the time you two had stripped and were sitting comfortably in the warm scented water.

You blinked, watching him as he puttered around the bathroom; filling the tub with warm water and adding a generous portion of your favorite bathsoap, making a luscious and soothing scent fill the air and your senses.

A warm bath together would do you both some good, he was a little rumpled from training all day himself and you were worn down from your own work. Wamuu always enjoyed washing your hair and bathing together was always a good de-stressor in his eyes.

"You're too persuasive," you remarked, the words coming out as more of a sigh as he combed his fingers through your damp hair.

You hated to admit it but this was just what you needed; you could literally feel all the stress and overwork just washing away with the water rolling over you.

Wamuu chuckled softly, squeezing some of your favourite shampoo into his huge palm. "And You're negligent of your own needs. But don't worry, that's why I'm here..."

Santana:

"You are tired."

"I'm not tired!" You groaned, the exasperation in your voice was short-lived as the corners of your lips quirked up into a teeny grin. "...I'm y/n."

Santana tilted his head, pursing his lips. Usually you would chuckle at his obvious confusion (Santana still couldn't quite grasp puns and dry humor like sarcasm well, despite it being something you used more than often) but today you were too busy to sit down and explain it, let alone spend any time with him.

You still had work to pick at upstairs and judging by how things were going, you weren't going to be done anytime soon.

It didn't help the fact that Santana was becoming increasingly worried about you; he had caught you pouring yourself a bowl of orange juice and a glass of cereal this morning when you begrudgingly trudged downstairs for breakfast. The growling of your stomach neglecting its needs had become too unbearable.

Either way; you weren't going to let the fact you haven't seen a bed (or a fresh change of clothes) in days stop you.

"I just need to get some work done, Santana..." you sighed, emptying the pot of coffee into your mug. "I have a deadline at the end of the week."

"Sleep is for the weak." You replied, bringing the steaming mug to your lips for the first sip.

"You have not slept in days." He pointed out, the deep timber of his voice rumbling around the room. You could feel his eyes staring into your back as you fumbled around the kitchen.

Damn him for being so perceptive.

"Your kind is very weak." Came the immediate and factual response. "You require sleep to function and survive."

Like it or not, he was spitting straight facts.

You nearly choked on the gulp of hot liquid, it burned in your throat as his words hit you. Your mate watched as you opened your mouth and fumbled with a response to conteract that statement; ultimately having nothing.

It was always hard to argue when you felt so sluggish, your brain running just as well as an old windows computer, let alone when Santana stood there blinking so innocently.

You groaned, shuffling out of the room; mug in hand and the migrane you had been trying to rid of slowly regaining its pounding pulse in your temples.

"Oh honey, I'll be fine..." you whined, trying to ignore his eyes still watching you as you began your slothy trek up the stairs. "I may be a 'Primitive lifeform' but I can handle a little work."

The Pillarman watched you go, frowning to himself as you disappeared up the stairs; the hard shut of the door to your office the only sound following your exit.

Your energy was very low, he had only seen you eat a handful of times and it seemed like you were running into walls and doors more often than the average Human lately.

Santana was getting worried.

The hours of the morning ticked bye, eventually Noon rolled around and then passed and you didn't come down for lunch (or more coffee). The primal instincts of protecting you as his mate inevitably kicked in and Santana found himself at the door to your office, peering in with a curious eye.

There he was met with the sight of you slumped over at your desk, your back rising and falling slowly and rhythmically. The sounds of your soft breath hit his sharp ears, even from all the way across the room, and he found himself wandering in, coming right up beside you where you lay crumpled.

You stirred slightly, making his hair stand on end as a groan barely passed your lips before you settled down again, resuming your quiet snoring.

Upon further inspection he found your eyes were closed, cheek smooshed right against the wood of the desk and papers sticking uncomfortably to your face. Even your pen was still gripped in hand.

His eyes skimmed over some loose papers, nothing but meaningless words and numbers scrawled across the white without rhyme and reason to him but always it held some deeper meaning to you; your supposed work.

Your coffee had barely been touched, gone cold and sitting quite forlorn among the foodwrappers and empty water bottles and papers scattered across your workspace. Santana reached for the mug, sniffing curiously at the coal black liquid sloshing around inside. Throughout all the time he had known you, you always had a strange attachment to this drink; you claimed it was what kept you functioning.

Curiosity got the best of him and he brought it to his lips for a taste, wondering the exact appeal of it. He shuddered, growling, almost spitting the shallow mouthful of it out and turning his head away as the bitter and cold liquid overwhelmed his senses as it slipped down his throat...

Disgusting.

He brought the mug to his mouth again, unable to stop himself as he dove in for his second taste; doing the very same thing as before.

Not bad, actually.

The red-haired Pillarman pulled the mug close a third time, throwing his head back gulping back the liquid as if his life depended on it. Licking his lips and blinking rapidly, he cradled the now empty mug to his bare chest as his nostrils flared and toes curled, riding out the waves of it overpowering his senses.

It was so terrible but so good at the same time; so good he didn't want it to end but so terrible he wished the bitter and overpowering aftertaste would leave his tongue.

He turned his attention back to you, with a tilt of his head. You were still sleeping, nonethewiser to his very presence; it was likely you would stay that way for some time.

With only a moments thought he shuffled out of the room quickly, returning just moments later with a blanket and pillow in tow.

You needed your sleep to function, as he had told you, so he would leave you to it as he went downstairs to prepare more of that delicious "coffee" for when you woke.

With all the carefulness in the world, a massive hand slipped under you, lifting your face just inches off the had desk as he slipped the cushy pillow under you and let you down softly.

Gently, he draped the blanket over your back before leaning down, smoothing your hair and pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

He planned on having another mug himself.

Or two mugs.

Or five.

Or maybe three pots worth...

#funnybunny #pillarmen #pillarmen headcanons #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #kars x reader #esidisi x reader #wamuu x reader #santana x reader #my writing

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crazy4myself · 4 years

Text

No Harm List | Pt. 5

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 9,494

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy's life, not knowing that he is one of the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list.

Warnings: cussing, mentions of drugs

Genre: Gang/mafia AU, romance, angst, violence, fluff

Rating: 17 N/C

Banner Credit: @mindays

A/n: So it’s been a whole month since I’ve updated and I’m so sorry. Between work and the baby, it’s been impossible to find time to write. I know the chapter is a little shorter than promised, but that’s because it got soo freaking long that I had no choice but to split it into two. But as a result, you got a bit more Jungkook and Ella fluff, so you’re welcome. I hope you enjoy this chapter! As always please let me know your thoughts because it really does help me write!

Also thanks again so much @mindays for this rockin banner!!!!

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You sighed as you took another bite of your cookie, it was delicious, but it wasn't perfect. Something about the texture felt off too you. The cookie felt homemade in the unprofessional way, not the 'grandma's classic' way Sugar Daddy always delivered.

"Jimin," you whined as you set the half-eaten dessert next to you on the counter, frowning at the cooling batch. Jimin made his way over to you, smiling as he reached for the other half.

"What is it, princess?" he asked, taking a bite and raising his eyebrows in delight.

"Don't humor me, you know I did something wrong," you grumbled. While you have overcome most of the baking learning curve your past two weeks in the kitchen, most of your baked goods being tasty enough to sell upfront (when Jimin decorated them), they were not perfect.

You were still learning your way around the chemistry it takes to make the 'perfect' cookie.

"You did, but we'll figure it out" he confessed as he shoved the rest of the baked good in his mouth before clapping his hands, "C'mon walk me through it," he ordered and you turned back to your work station with a sigh,

You both loved and hated Jimin's guidance. Loved because he was brilliant in the kitchen and caught your mistakes in a heartbeat, he was eager to teach you and rarely judged you for your incompetence. You hated it because you felt embarrassed, you were hired to do a job you weren't excelling at, and it took a hit on your ego.

Not to mention Jimin dropping everything he was doing to help you get it right was also slowing him down when opening up the bakery.

"Are you sure you have time?" you asked peeping at the clock, it was 7:45 you still had a few minutes before the bakery opens at 8. Enough to prepare one more batch of cookies to put in the oven.

"Yeah I'm good, Jungkook had a hard open this morning, I just came in a little earlier than you did so the kid could take a nap," he says with a shrug.

The bakery had two opening shifts; the 'hard open' has a report time of 4:30 am where the bakers have to prepare all the bread, breakfast pastries, and any custom orders for the day. And the soft open starts at 7 am.

Lucky for you, you hadn't proven valuable enough to qualify for the hard open just yet, and you were clinging to your mornings of sleeping in as you slowly passed through your 'new girl' phase at the bakery.

"Jungkook? Really I didn't even see him," you said surprised, certain the two of you would have crossed paths on his walk home.

But when you turned and looked at the apron hooks at by door, you saw his apron, which simply stated, Let's get this bread, was hanging front and center, confirming he had come by today.

Jimin smiled a knowing smile, "That's because he went to nap in the apartment upstairs," Jimin teased. "Now come on we have cookies to make."

You reached for the ingredients, and you and Jimin carefully measured out before turning to the mixture, "So the apartment upstairs, is that one of your safe houses?" you asked tentatively.

You were slowly, but surely introducing yourself into BTS's world the past two weeks of working here, asking Jin and Jimin and any of the other members who came by to visit tentative questions about the gang's inner workings.

Jimin grinned, amused, "Kind of, it's definitely a safe place for our members to use, but we don't put anyone up there if they're on the run. Can't risk having the place raided- it's bad for business." he added as an afterthought as you looked at him with a raised brow.

"Why else would they need a safe place?" you asked, confused on what dilemma the men you were slowly getting to know could worm their way into and not out.

"Well, Army comes from all parts of life," Jimin started with a shrug. "A lot of them join because they don't have anywhere to go, or they need a place to getaway. The apartment upstairs is for people like them, people who need to escape their homes." Jimin explained.

That was one thing you could never see to make yourself forget about BTS as much as you want to write them off as criminals and be upset with Hoseok about what he has done.

They honestly were trying to make Alcorn a better place for the forgotten. The kids who can't help but have the circumstances dictate their outcomes. Who has no way to better their resources on their own?

When Army takes the tattoo, an inversion of the inner circle's symbol, they traditionally get it placed on their forearms, but some can choose to have it on their upper arm or chest. They can also choose its size.

You met a member who had the small shape in the fleshy crook between their thumb and pointer finger, Getting the tattoo in a small place ensured that it was easy to cover or remove if they chose to leave BTS. A concept you were still trying to wrap your head around because of the series of dizzying rules that follow it.

"Well, that's your problem," Jimin laughed as he watched you distractedly sift your dry ingredients into the mixer.

"What am I using the wrong sized sifter?" you asked, confused as you looked for another tool nearby to check if there even was a size difference.

He laughed, "No, but you put your sugar in as a dry ingredient, have you been doing that this whole time?" he asked with a smile.

"Yes, why wouldn't I sugar is dry" you sad dumbfounded

"No, the sugar counts as a wet ingredient," he chided

"But it's dry its-" you couldn't form words as you tried to process what he was telling you, looking between him and the bag of sweet crystals in outrage.

He giggled at your expression, "It's treated like a wet ingredient because it's soluble it dissolves better in the liquid, making the texture softer and less gritty." You growled at his explanation, it made perfect scientific sense, but you were still infuriated by sugar being identified as the wrong physical property.

"Well what about salt is it property fluid as well?" you snapped accusingly,

Jimin couldn't help but giggle at your frustration, "No salt can go in as dry, because the cookies rely on the chemical reaction of the salt to control the rate the dough releases carbon dioxide," he explained simply.

You blinked at him expression vacant as you processed what he was saying, Jimin sighed; clearly, you didn't pay much attention in your college chemistry class. "It keeps from making giant air bubbles," he dumbed down, and your eyes lit up in understanding.

You grunted in frustration as you watched Jimin dump your dry batter out of the mixer. Before you could think to stop yourself, you reached for a handful of sugar out of the back and threw it in his face in frustration.

"Hey, what are you doing!" Jimin demanded as you pelted him with another hit

"I'm splashing you; what else would you call it" you teased as you threw another handful showering his apron, which proudly had Hot Buns embroidered across it, in the sweet crystals.

"Look at how WET you are. You're absolutely soaked," you continued as you berated him much to his distress.

"What's going on?"

You turned at the gravelly sound of Jungkook's morning voice, seeing the boy squinting in the bright light of the kitchen.

"Koo, thank goodness this insane woman was attacking me." Jimin hissed at you.

You threw one more pinch of sugar before you smiled sheepishly as you were caught in your childish antics, thankful it was Jungkook and not Jin who walked in on you blatantly making a mess of his kitchen. You looked down as you remembered your place.

"I'll grab the broom," you murmured as you moved to clean up your mess.

"I'm sure you deserved it," Jungkook told his brother as he put up a hand to stop you. Grabbing the broom from the wall himself, "I got it you go open up front Ellie" he mumbled tiredly as he began sweeping.

You smiled at him in gratitude and reached to ruffle his hair endearingly, before sticking your tongue out at Jimin, who just muttered "Unbelievable" under his breath as he turned back to his work station.

You had already started the coffee and filled up the display area when you were waiting for your cookies to bake. So you only needed to unlock the front door and add today's specials to the chalkboard menu on the counter before Sugar Daddy was in business for the day.

"Mornin' princess," you heard a tired voice mumble, and you looked up from the curling S in the word 'chicken salad' to see Yoongi in front of the counter swaying where he stood like he was at risk of falling asleep right there.

You set down the chalk as you greeted him, quickly rinsing your hands off and fixing a large iced Americano before he could even make the order himself.

"Anything for breakfast?" you asked as you handed him the cup, watching with a satisfied smile as he slipped the reusable straw you had given him a week prior. Yoogi simply grunted before taking a long sip of his drink.

"I'm good," he said with a satisfied smile, already looking more alert as the caffeine instantly revived him, there was even more color to his cheeks.

"Okay, that will be $2.75," you chirped in your best customer service voice, but your hands didn't move for the iPad that made up your register.

"Cute," Yoongi laughed before turning away with a smirk, "You got jokes, Ella, keep it up, and I might tip you one day," he called over his shoulder before letting himself out of the store. You gritted your teeth.

Your first day of handling the register by yourself, Min Yoongi came in and ordered an Americano, when you rang him up he gave you a dismissive, 'put it on my tab,' before stepping out of the growing line of the morning rush behind him. You were frantic as you searched for the setting where you could open tabs, watching in distress as Jimin quickly handed his elder the drink, and he made his way out the store, all while impatient customers tapped their foot in front of you.

"I don't know how to open a tab," you finally called to Jimin after he came to check on what the hold up was. Jimin let out a loud belly laugh amused by your distress as he closed out Yoongi's order with a simple, "He never pays."

You never got an explanation as to why or how that happened, but you do know Yoongi drinks at least 10 ten iced americanos a day. While the diluted espresso wasn't a huge financial strain, you wondered how many disposable cups Jin lost to Min Yoongi each week.

You were always a bit of an environmentalist and had taken personal responsibility to try and reduce Yoongi's waste output. He accepted your gift of a reusable compact straw he could attach to his keychain, noting it made his drink taste cooler when he sipped through it.

But you were still working on how to get him to reuse his cups. The man was unwilling to carry around a reusable one all day, claiming it was a hassle and didn't want to wash it.

Environment and economics aside, there was the whole other concern that you were fairly certain Yoongi drank more coffee than water. And you were worried his little heart was going to give out from the caffeinated strain one day.

"Cute handwriting," Jungkook whispered over your shoulder, making you startle and causing you to mess up the flower you were doodling next to the lunch special.

You pouted, sending him a small glare as he smiled sheepishly, "I'm going to get you a bell to wear around your neck, so you don't sneak up on me like that," you threatened as you smudged the haywire petal.

Jungkook smirked as he took the chalk from you, "You going to have to ask a bit more nicely if you wanna see me in a collar," he teased as he drew a perfect flower over yours. You flushed at his comments as you turned away.

You and Jungkook had gotten closer in the few weeks you had been working at the bakery. Apparently, he was grounded by his gang dad's for a situation you still didn't understand, and part of his punishment involved working opening shifts at the bakery before class.

He was starting to get more comfortable around you, and the shy bashful Jungkook you had been acquainted with two weeks prior had faded in your shared mornings kneading dough in the kitchen.

To your dismay, he had grown bold and cocky, and a never-ending pain in your ass as he wasn't afraid to joke and tease you anymore. And if you thought bashful Jungkook was dangerous, you had nothing to prepare you for his confident persona.

"I wouldn't need a bell if you stayed aware of your surroundings," he pointed out as he continued to sketch a cute kitten on the bottom of the menu.

You sighed, "It's too damn early for this Jeon," you murmured as you made your way to the coffee station, grabbing your personal mug and pouring your coffee and cream into it. Before reaching for Jungkook's to-go cup to fix his drink.

"It's always too early or too late when are we going to talk about this?" he asked, turning to face you. "I'm not going to be able to walk you home every night, ya know."

"Not even if I ask nicely," you asked over the rim of your cup, batting your eyelashes at him innocently. He scoffed, but you could see the blush creeping up his neck as you wormed your way under your skin.

"Jungkook, I've lived in Alcorn for four years now, not once has anyone got the best of me," you gave him a look that clearly said unlike you, "I'm pretty sure I'm fine," you finished as you turned back to steaming the caramel syrup into his milk.

"Things are different now," he argued.

"No, they're not, Kook I can handle my own," you sighed, growing tired of the back and forth, asking yourself why you were even making this ungrateful brats coffee.

"Ooh, are we talking about how Ella can or can not kick ass?" Jimin asked as he made his way from the kitchen with a tray full of muffins.

Your concentration broke as his outburst, and a large portion of milk plopped into Jungkook's mug, ruining the heart you were practicing in the drink. "No," you hissed in frustration, grabbing the caramel sauce to doodle a smiley face over your mistake. Jungkook smirked as he watched you work more willing to hold his tongue when his coffee was on the line.

And to your relief, the bell chimed as customers made their way in the bakery. You brushed past Jungkook, handing him his drink as you took your place at the register, effectively ending the conversation as you greeted the customer. He sighed but surrendered for now.

Jungkook has been pushing to give you self defense lessons since your first day at the bakery. While BTS made sure to keep an eye on you while investigating the Black Tips incident.

Jin got word that the men who ambushed Jungkook, were there for him in advance. And while they could assume the leek came from one of Sylvia's men if not the trafficker himself, no one has found out why Jungkook would be a target—not finding any leads from the Black Tips themselves.

Jungkook was nervous, he was used to their being a target on his back, but no one had ever had the guts to aim for it before. And while he got away that night, he hated knowing he dragged you into this mess. He couldn't stand the thought of you being in danger of helping him. He needed to know you could protect yourself if you somehow ended up on your own.

Jungkook took a quick sip of his coffee, trying to keep his face neutral despite the incense sweetness that attacked his tongue. While it was true, he favored a sweeter drink like a caramel macchiato in the afternoons; he preferred something stronger like a plain coffee with one cream and two sugars in the morning.

Not to mention the amount of syrup you used to decorate his drinks when you failed at latte art was enough to give him a cavity. Jungkook couldn't bring himself to complain, though.

He liked the gesture of you taking the effort to make him a cup every morning too much. He smiled to himself as he grabbed his backpack and headed to his morning classes.

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The bakery had a steady flow of customers that morning, and the constant work kept you busy enough to keep your mind from wandering during your shift. But as you got off that afternoon to head to your classes, you couldn't help but dwell on the thoughts you tried your hardest to avoid.

It has been two weeks since you talked to Hobi.

Well really talked to him, he still sent you text every evening to check-in that you were safe, and you were guilty of doing the same if you ever heard too many police sirens or gunshots in the night.

But check in's aside this was the longest you had gone without seeing him since your friendship started.

You missed his unannounced arrivals at night where the two of you would eat junk food and put on movies only to talk over them, or when he would call you to come downstairs to help him test drive a car, and you would beg for mercy on your life as he sped down winding, back roads blasting the music so loud you felt the bass dance in your bones.

You struggled to focus on your lectures through the afternoon, before finally settling for mindlessly taking notes and hoping you could piece together the information on your own later.

You had a test in one of your classes two days from now and planned on grabbing lunch on campus and staying at the library late into the evening to prepare, but you couldn't see yourself focusing by then either.

You decided to go to the gym after your last lecture.

Your university had a free gym for students on campus, and while you frequented the cardio exercise classes like Zumba, there was nothing quite like running till you can't think anymore on the treadmill or lifting weights to clear your head. You figured getting your frustration out with your workout would help you think more clearly with how you should approach the Hoseok situation.

After your lecture let out you made your trek across campus to head to the gym; it was around 4 pm that weird hour that wasn't quite afternoon but wasn't quite evening, where students that weren't in classes didn't know what to do with themselves and usually found themselves submitting the hour to Tick Tock in the Student Union, so the gym was relatively empty.

You were a frequent rule breaker and left your gym bag in your locker between visits, despite what the signs in the locker room ask, so you always had a change of clothes for when sparattically decided to workout.

You were quickly reminded why that was a rule when you opened the door to the musty scent of your dirty work out clothes. You were obviously in need of a fresh set.

You made a mental note to bring your gym bag home and bring back a fresh set next time you came to campus as you moved for the changing areas.

You scrunched your nose at the musty smell. Before reminding yourself, you were going to stink no matter what after your workout and forced yourself into the smelly electric blue compression leggings and sports bra it was one of your favorite sets the color made it look bold despite its minimalist design. Not to mention the leggings made your ass look great.

You weren't an athlete by any means growing up, but you took advantage of the resources provided to you when you started college determined to fight off the dreaded freshman 15.

You attended several workout classes with Daewon, and outside of classes, the two of you explored a majority of the equipment in the gym, watching a number of Youtube videos for guidance, and slowly the two of you formed a baseline work out routine that you still clung to today.

You weren't a regular at the gym, there was a time in your life where you attended Zumba weekly, between your afternoon classes, but the chaos of the last month of your life robbed you of that habit too. Other than Zumba, you mostly turned to the gym when you needed a sweaty distraction or when you were avoiding your schoolwork.

Your mind viewed working out as it did cleaning; it was productive enough to excuse you from doing your work without feeling like the quitter you were. It also meant you did it the most when you had a ton of studying to do.

You secured your hair into a quick but effective braid down your back, not bothering to check how nice it looked in the mirror before heading out on the gym floor.

You stretched quickly before hopping on a treadmill telling yourself you would put in a quick mile as a warm-up, putting your headphones in and allowing your mind to surrender to the music as you got your heart rate up a little.

Nine minutes later, you were walking out your cool down as you scanned the weights area, determining what looked the least crowded so you could get started without having to interact with anyone.

You settled for taking the vacant pulley machine and worked through your usual weight routine, focusing first on your biceps and then your chest. When your arms felt like they were equal parts on fire and made of jelly, and your mind fell into that pleasant, empty haze, you had mercy on yourself and moved to wipe the machine down.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you cooled down, and saw your face, chest, and upper arms were a splotchy red from the strain, and a layer of sweat coated your entire body.

You knew you weren't attractive when you worked out, but you always admired yourself a bit anyways.

You were flushed, your hair was frizzing along the edge, and strands of hair escaped from your braid and stuck out wildly in all directions.

All and all, you looked like the definition of a hot mess.

But you were proud of your body for serving you well. You were more aware of the strength in the muscle under your skin, the way they swelled or bulged from your arms wasn't feminine or delicate, but you found it beautiful nonetheless.

Taking a minute to rest, you mindlessly unlocked your phone and immediately found yourself opening your messages to Hoseok out of habit.

You hadn't checked in on him in two days, and you didn't respond to his text from this afternoon. Your thumb hovered over the screen hesitantly before you finally shut it off and tucked it back in your pocket.

You still didn't know if you wanted to avoid Hoseok or hug him and makeup.

You decided you weren't tired enough if you could still think about this.

You turned the music up on your headphones in an attempt to blast out the thoughts swirling in your mind and headed for the leg press machine. You did a quick circuit targeting your quads and inner thighs on a few of the machines before making your way to the Smith machine for assisted barbell squats.

You embraced the burn in your glutes as you locked the bar back in its holder after your first rep, rolling the stiffness out of your shoulders as you counted down from thirty.

You were never good at making yourself wait or rest between reps, and because of that, you were prone to fatigue yourself faster.

You took a moment to stretch your arms across yourself and roll your neck, focusing on how the tension left your body before you moved to settle the barbell once again across your shoulders.

You spread your legs abd centered your weight, and with a quick flick of your wrist, you released the bar from its holder, dropping the full weight onto your shoulders. You let your breath sizzle through your teeth as you squatted down, taking care to keep your knees from going out past your toes, so you targeted the right muscle group.

You stared at yourself in the mirror you were facing making sure you kept the correct form when a sudden movement from behind you caught your attention.

Your eyes flicked across the mirror to lock in on the reflection of no other than Jeon Jungkook.

You let your lips turn into a slight smirk through your panting as you watched his arm come to a stuttering stop mid hammer curl as you continued your squats. You watched his eyes observe the motion of your body, ignoring the warmth in your stomach as you took him in return.

Jungkook usually wore oversized clothes on a daily basis. You couldn't understand why now that you took him in in his muscle shirt that exposed the entirety of his beautiful arms.

For the first time, you took in the full extent of the artwork that decorated his right arm. The tattoo's dark ink dotted their way up to his arm and his back shoulder. The placments were spread out enough that it wasn’t quite a full sleeve, but you were certian it would be within a few years.

You always knew Jungkook was big, you could tell by his broad shoulders and a hint of muscle you saw when he tied his apron around his tiny waist, but you didn't realize the extent of his strength.

You drank in the sight of him now, the defined lines of the his triceps and bicepts. And his toned obliques you could peek slightly from the low cut of the arm hole of his shirt.

The guy could probably bench press you if he wanted to.

You smiled to yourself as you reached 10, and pushed to lock the barbell back in its holder. You hope Jungkook didn't notice how your knees shook slightly or that you locked the bar in the clamp lower than the one you were initially using. Your trembling legs were too weak to fully extend to the one level with your shoulders.

You bide your time rolling out your shoulders as you watch him through the mirror. The punk hadn't taken his eyes off your ass yet, and you smirked as you turned to face him.

"Something catch your eye, Kook?" You called him with a saccharine smile.

He blinked in his daze before clearing his throat and stammering, "Ella, oh nothing at all. I was just checking your form."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your smile as you watched the blush crawl up his cheeks.

You tried not to let the thought of Jungkook checking you out in the gym get to you head. But it totally did, and you couldn't help but tease him more, "I hope you were pleased with what you saw."

His mouth curled into a smirk as he recovered and remembered himself, "I must say I was very impressed," he offered, and you smacked his arm as you sat on the other end of the bench, watching as he resumed his rep.

"I didn't know you came here," you started, he looked at you with a raised eyebrow as if asking, have you looked at me?

You scoffed, "I meant this gym stupid. I assumed your fancy mansion had its own gym in it. Jimin told me you guys trained there."

Trained for what? You didn't know.

Jungkook placed his weight on the ground before straightening, "Oh well, I come between classes to pass the time, beats traveling across town," he explained as he rolled out his shoulders.

Right, you remember him saying something about having evening lectures on Tuesday and Thursdays.

"How long until your class?"

He smiled, "Long enough to take you upstairs and teach you a thing or two," the shock must have been apparent on your face because he quickly amended, "Self defense! There's a bunch of mats upstairs for the kickboxing classes they have; I could show you a few things."

You sucked your teeth as you considered.

You had no reason to be hostile and say no, there was nothing wrong with being able to defend yourself.

At first, you were defensive because it made it all too real. You were worried knowing how to protect yourself would somehow drag you deeper into Jungkook's world, but you now realize you were in it, whether you were ready to be or not. It was best, safest, to be able to protect yourself.

"Alright, Jeon, but don't pull anything stupid," you warned as you got up and headed for the second level of the gym.

"Alright, we'll start simple," Jungkook started as he approached you, you were standing on the center of the mat in one of the boxing practice rooms. He was slowly pacing around you reminding you of a preditor looking at you as if you were his prey, you weren't going to lie it made you want to wrap your arms around yourself self contiously, but you held your ground and kept your hands at your side.

“I’m going to show you a handful of moves that you can use to get out of someoe grip if they try attacking you or grabbing you. Everything will be strictly offense.” he explained settling to stand infront of you.

You nodded along to confirm you understood.

“An important part of these moves is to get the guy down and then disengage no beat his ass. I think they’ll be super useful and be a bit more effective than throwing a shoe at someone.” He said with a smirk.

You smiled cheekily at him, “Hey don’t hate. You’re just jealous because you could never be as resourcful as I am.”

He rolled his eyes with a scoff before clapping his hands together and changing his stance, "I'll start by showing you how to get out of someone's grip if they grab you by your hair," he said, approaching you.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," you said quickly, putting your hands up in defense, "We don't play dirty, no hair pulling," you warned as you backed away.

Jungkook flashed a bunny smile in amusement, "Unfortunately, a lot of guys do. If I remember correctly that's exactly how they got you down the night you saved me” he teased, but hesitated as he saw your discomfort.

"Don't worry I'll be gentle I promise." he said softly as he approached you again raising his arm as if reaching for your braid.

You shook your head furiously, "Aren't we supposed to practice on you first?" you argued. "Ya know so that you can explain it better." you pushed trying to delay the inevitable. What have you gotten yourself into?

"Ella, I don't have a ponytail," he started, but your hand quickly shot for the back of his head, entangling your fingers in the soft waves and gripping them lightly. Jungkook let a sigh escape his lips as you tugged his head back slightly, and he had to blink to remember himself before he continued.

"Okay," he said breathlessly as he centered his weight, "A lot of people have the instinct to pull away or try to run, that won't work," he started.

"What you do is you swing your arm around up and over theirs, and pinch their elbow into the crook of yours and push down," he gently acted out his explanation.

You stumbled quickly, releasing your grasp on his hair as you felt pressure pushing your elbow opposite of how the joint naturally bends.

You promptly found yourself on your knees, your arm still trapped in his hold.

"Once you have them here, you can punch them and run," he said, throwing a mock punch at your face. You tried, and failed not to flinch.

"These moves don't require strength. You have to use surprise to your advantage and, most importantly, disengage and get away as soon as possible." He explained as he released you and helped you up.

"Now your turn," he reached for your braid, grabbing the part closest to the base of your skull and tugging slightly, but not enough to hurt.

You resisted the urge to try and pull out his grasp and swung your arm into an arch like he showed you tucking his elbow between yours before pushing down.

It was a little clumsy, and he didn't go down at first, but as you increased the pressure and shoved down a little harder, Jungkook released his grip on your hair and fell to his knees with a thud.

"Now punch me," he ordered through his teeth.

"I'm not-" he looked up at you defiantly, and you settled with a mocking air punch making a quite "Bam" as a sound effect before pulling away.

"I'm not comfortable hitting you," you said, twiddling your thumbs together.

Jungkook looked like he wanted to argue, but this was your first session, and he didn't want to get you too far out of your comfort zone.

He hoped you would be willing to show him what kind of punches you were packing later on down the road, maybe with boxing gloves so you would be more comfortable.

"Fine, but let's do it again to make sure you have the hang of it," he offered.

You ran the exercise again, each time Jungkook was careful not to pull your hair too hard, but he did start resisting a bit more to encourage you to move and fight more quickly. And while it should have taken you a little longer to get him to the ground each time you attacked with new vigor, making sure you moved fast enough that he couldn't resist too much.

Jungkook smiled at you as you hovered your fist in front of his face menisenly, your face stelled and set in concentration. After a few more rounds of grabbing your hair at various angles, the defensive move came naturally to you, and you got him on the ground successfully each time.

"Good, good, okay, let's move on," he said breathlessly as you helped him up from the ground.

"I'm going to teach you an easy one; it's what you do if a man grabs you around the wrist." He explained, walking closer.

"Grab my wrist, and grip it tight," he ordered.

You did as he instructed, although your fingers couldn't fully wrap around it.

If he moved to pull out of your grip, he could do it easily, but to your surprise, he didn't yank downwards like your dad always told you to do to get out of a man's grasp.

"You can yank and pull all you want, and that may get you out, but some guys will be able to just grip harder, and you're more at risk of injuring yourself," he explained, giving a light tug in your grasp.

"Instead, place your other hand on top of his to hold it down. Use the hand in their grasp to grip their wrist for a more secure hold. Then swing your arm in a large circle, grab their wrist, and push down."

You stumbled with a gunt as he followed through with his actions, using his free hand to hold yours against his wrist, and wrapping his captured hand around your wrist as he swung his arm in a large arc, effectively taking your arm and positioning at an awkward angle behind you before shoving you forward and onto your knees.

Jungkook was careful not to push too hard to hurt you, but the discomfort was inevitable.

"Alright, then you push him down and disengage, do not try to keep hold of a man that's bigger than you. Safety always comes first run if you can," he explained before releasing your hand and helping you up.

"This move is a good one because it doesn't require strength. You're stronger than I thought you were, but guys still have weight and height to their advantage." Jungkook explained as he reached for your wrist, effectively circling his fingers around it to the point where his thumb and middle finger overlapped.

You tried not to smile to yourself at the thought of Jungkook recognizing your strength. You never liked to be considered delicate.

Jungkook once again explained the maneuver walking you through each step and critiquing your hand placement before you were ready to try it in real-time.

You tried the maneuver on him swinging his arm before pushing him to the ground, and while he resisted the pressure, you smiled in victory as he fell to his knees.

"That was good, but a bit quicker, the surprise is a contributing factor, anyone who's expecting it can get out of it," he offered. He drilled you on the process a few more times, making sure you moved in one fluid motion instead of initiating it step by the step before ordering you to try with your non-dominant hand.

It was your third try with your non-dominant hand when things went wrong.

You grew a little vicious moving faster so you could get him down before he had time to react or resist, and you shoved a bit harder. He fell to his knees with a harsh thud, but it was the way that he desperately yanked his wrist out of your grip with a sharp cry that set off red flags in your head.

"Jungkook," you cried, falling on your knees next to him to see him cradling his arm to his chest.

"It's fine," he said through his teeth. You glared as you reached for his hand, remembering that it was the same wrist he injured three weeks prior when he got jumped.

"Oh, you idiot, where is your brace?" you demanded as you inspected the swollen appendage.

He didn't respond, only smiled at you sheepishly. "Have you been lifting weights without it? Have you let it rest at all?" you demanded as you got up, pulling him up with you and dragging him out the boxing area, you had claimed.

You continued to lecture him and gripe under your breath as you dragged him, by the good wrist, down the stairs, and through the gym to the ice machine where you wrapped a few cubes of ice into a wad of paper towels.

"Here idiot," you offered grumpily.

"Is this how you talk to all your patients, Doctor?" he asked mockingly as he took the makeshift ice pack.

Bedside manner was something you were going to have to work on in med school.

You get easily frustrated when people blatantly ignore doctors' orders and further jeopardize their health. If you have liver problems, stop drinking. If you have lung problems, don't smoke. If you have an injured wrist, put it in a damn brace and don't lift weights or pick fights with people.

You told him as much as you watched him ice it for a few minutes though the action did little to help the swelling go down.

"Are you mad at me?" Jungkook asked softly, not quite looking at you.

He peeked up to see your eyes soften a bit at the question, "I'm not mad, just a little frustrated. You're my friend, and I don't want to see you hurt. Especially since I was the one that hurt you," you explained, reaching to brush his sweaty bangs behind his ears.

Jungkook tried to ignore how his chest tightened at the simple action, "It was my fault, you were only doing what I told you to do." he offered, not wanting you to feel responsible for his stupidity.

You didn't look up at him, instead focusing down on his wrist, turning and angling it in a way that you could better check the swelling.

"I have supplies at home, I could wrap it if you like?" you offered

"I'm really fine. It doesn't even- yah! Okay," he hissed as you applied light pressure to it. You smiled in victory, and the two of you parted ways briefly to grab your bags before meeting back up. Jungkook drove to school, so you didn't have to worry about catching the bus.

It was a quick drive from campus to your apartment, Jungkook nimbly avoided the traffic of main roads by cutting through neighborhoods you didn't even know connected.

"You know this city like the back of your hand, don't you?" you asked, surprised by how quickly you were pulling into your apartment complex.

"It comes with the job," he said with a shrug.

You didn't know what 'the job' was. If it was driving a getaway car or dealing drugs, or... you couldn't even think up other possibilities.

You couldn't muster up the courage to ask him as you made your way up the stairs to your door. A brown and black cat with bright green eyes waited outside your door, meowing impatiently as you approached.

"That's Jeremy," you introduced as you bent down to give him pets. Jungkook smiled at the ridiculously human name for a cat.

"He's a stray, but I leave food out for him. Hoseok won't let me bring him in the apartment. ‘Says he'd trash the place," you explained as you grabbed the little bowl you left outside your door and unlocked your apartment.

"But he's so cute, how can you resist?" he questioned giving the cat some pets himself.

"I know!" you whined, setting the now filled bowl of cat food back on the ground. "I'm thinking about getting him a collar, though, just to make sure animal control doesn't come to scoop him up," you said offhandedly.

"I say you just let him move in, fuck Hoseok. We're mad at him anyway, right?" Jungkook said jokingly.

You laughed along as you made your way to the living room area, "Take a seat," you ordered, gently pointing to the couch, "I'll go grab my first aid kit."

Jungkook sat down immediately, sinking into the worn brown couch as he inspected the apartment. It wasn't quite a studio, the entire front area was open to what was the kitchen, dining room, and living room, but there was a door that gave the bedroom some privacy, and another door that leads to what he assumed was the bathroom.

The apartment wasn't dirty, but it was well lived in.

The front was slightly crowded, the entertainment center and the coffee table in front of the couch were nearly touching. You had two bean bags stacked in the corner next to the sofa, probably for when you had more guests. And there was an array of fuzzy blankets draped over the couches and piled next to the bean bag chairs.

The one window next to the door had various potted plants scatted in front of it and a few were hanging from ropes in the ceiling.

Most of them looked the be herbs and cacti. Jungkook could tell by the way sprouts were missing their leaves that you most likely cooked with them.

The natural smell of the plants scented the air with a mild and refreshing spice scent of mint, basil, and rosemary. But the strongest scent came from the pot of wild lavender that was placed next to the couch. The floral scent put him at ease naturally and reminded him of the time Jin put lavender drops in his diffuser when he complained about having a hard time sleeping.

The kitchen was small, the cabinet doors were on crooked hinges, and perhaps had chipped paint, but you had taped little slivers of miss-matched scrapbook paper over the worst spots. And the look was pleasantly charming. There was no counter space, but he saw a small card table in the corner with a knife block and cutting board on it that you must use for your prep station when your cooking.

The dining room table had three miss-matched chairs, but the little cushions on them somehow tied the whole look together and made it seem like a matching set.

Everything looked thrifted and worn, but the little touches you added, the cushions and pillows on the couch, the small tapestry of cacti Jungkook was pretty sure every college girl ordered for her dorm room, and the fairy lights that lined the living room walls made the place feel cozy and homey.

He could see a little part of you in every piece of the apartment, and because of that he immediately felt at ease, and at home in it. He imagined you and Hoseok must spend many nights in the cozy room, cooking dinner together, or having long movie nights.

He couldn’t help but slip himself into the fantasy and wondered if there would ever be a day where this apartment would be a familiar comfort. If he would know the story of how you got those chairs or where the photos pinned to the refrigerator door were taken.

You were thankful that the front of your apartment was at least presentable with the surprise company. Your room was a train wreck you planned to keep hidden. After digging through your closet for your first aid kit, you cleared your coffee table of its mess of textbooks and flashcards and set your first aid kit on top. Jungkook's eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he took in the size of the kit. It looked fit for an EMT.

You detoured to the kitchen, first grabbing an ice pack out the freezer and handing it to him.

"You might have strained it a little while you were driving, I want as much swelling as possible to go down before I wrap it," you explained.

Before you ruffled through the kit, moving several tools, Jungkook didn't quite know the purpose for, until you grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen. "Take this for the swelling," you ordered, handing him a cup of water.

"Thanks, I'm sorry to put you through the trouble," he said sheepishly.

"No, I don't mind." you amended. And it was true, helping people like this, easing their pain and making them more comfortable was something you took pride in doing.

You could feel the approaching awkward silence, and you took the chance to ask the question that was nagging at the back of your head.

"So earlier you said knowing the city 'comes with the job' what do you do? Ya know, for BTS?" you asked hesitantly as you pushed back at the cuticle of your thumb. You were lucky not to have a nail-biting habit, but you did have a habit of pushing back your cuticles when you got fidgety.

"Oh umm, it kinda changes over time, the inner circle has responsibilities and such, but our duties are pretty ambiguous. We don't have assigned jobs like Armys do.." Jungkook said hesitantly.

You looked at him expectantly, and he continued, "Like Suga Hyung is head of surveillance, but he also does investigations and fieldwork and such. And Jin Hyung is head of intelligence, but he also does a lot of the business for BulletProof, and he completely runs Sugar Daddy. Jimin is our arsonist, but he can fight, and deal, and do a lot of things really," he said, rambling.

"I'm sorry, did you just say Jimin is an arsonist?" you asked in disbelief. Jungkook looked at you, shocked but nodded.

"He's really good at science stuff, that's why he bakes so good." Jungkook offered as an explanation.

You think back to the chemistry lectures you had to sit through every time Jimin taught you a new recipe. It made sense, but you were still surprised. You would expect something like arson to be more in V's field with the crazy look in his eyes.

"Okay, but you still haven't told me what you do," you pushed.

At this point, Jungkook's ice pack was starting to drip, and you were probably good to wrap his wrist, but you were too caught up in better understanding BTS and everything that they do.

Jungkook huffed out a nervous laugh, "I do lots of stuff. When I first started, I was dealing. I worked my way up to more of the pharmaceuticals and medical-grade stuff. I mostly sold insulin or other simple medicines like that. The pharmacy industry is way corrupt, and poor people need meds too, ya know?" he rambled.

You nodded in agreement. Pharmaceuticals and health care expenses were something you were continually challenging your teachers on in your ethics class. You hated becoming a doctor knowing health care was a business people monopolized in Alcorn.

"I've helped Suga with surveillance some I really like that. I'm studying software engineering to get better at it. I think I'm faster at hacking than Suga is at this point, but don't tell him I said that. I've also just kind of been the muscle for the inner circle. When RM and Jin have meetings, I always go as back up. I lead training sessions and help teach new recruits how to fight, too." he went on.

Jungkook didn't want to tell you the other reason why he went to meetings.

For some reason, he felt like telling you he's the heir of BTS wouldn't sit with you well. To know that he was training to be a crime lord and was minoring in business so he could perfect the art of embezzlement and make network connections while taking classes with the next generation of Alcorn's businessmen and investors.

He didn’t want to talk about how BTS had a timeline of working its way out the gang scene of the Westside and worm their way into the upper East. RM runs BTS more like a mafia, a family with limitless assets and connections, depending more on his and Jin's charm and connections than violence and brute force to make business deals.

Jungkook also didn't know how to tell you or any of his hyungs that he didn't want to be rich.

He knows he's in no position to complain, he's been living a life of luxury since he was 15, but he knows that money isn't being distributed equitably to Army and other lower ranks of BTS.

RM always reminds Jungkook, it's not their responsibility to share evenly with all of BTS. There would be no assets, no way to recruit more members, no comfort for everyone if they did.

There is nothing to keep Army from climbing their way up the ranks in BTS. RM has the baseline standard of ensuring everyone's needs are met; they have a home and a job. What they chose to do with their potential after that is up to them. You get out of BTS, what you give.

And Jungkook understands that, but he still can't shake the feeling of unease from his chest. That BTS could be using their power and influence, not to invade the markets of the upper East, but instead to make the Westside a better place.

He knew he was stupid for having dreams of non-profits and housing reforms, but he can't keep those feelings from nagging at him from the back of his mind.

Jungkook's rambling fell quiet, and you could see the conflict on his face. Maybe you were pushing for too much too soon. Maybe BTS expected things from Jungkook that he was ashamed of like Hoseok was ashamed.

"I shouldn't have asked," you said, reaching for his hands.

"No, it's okay. It's just more complicated then I realized," he explained as he watched you wipe the water from the ice pack off his arm.

You dug through the first aid kit for some gauze and butterfly strips, "I'm sorry if it's a little tight. I'm a low on gauze, "you said as you started wrapping the bandage, taking care to make sure his hand was set in the proper position.

The two of you fell into small talk as you started to work.

You talked about your classes, what your favorite pastry was at Sugar Daddy. He asked you about where you were from and whether or not you missed your home.

And it was an answer you always struggled to give, because while a piece of you always yearned to be home, to talk in your native tongue, and see your family. You know you could never bring yourself to return home. Alcorn has rooted itself so firmly in you; you don't think you'll ever leave.

You found yourself losing track of time, as you told him stories of the funny cultural differences between your home and Kros. And too soon you noticed the sun had set in your window.

"Jungkook, you missed your class," you exclaimed as you remembered he was only at the gym for a short break.

He flashed his bunny smile as he chuckled, "I missed both of them, but I don’t mind. But I probably should head home soon. I have a ton of homework, and you mentioned you have a test in two days." he said with a sigh. Being such a responsible adult was such a burden sometimes.

He wanted nothing more, but to talk with you more for hours into the night and morning.

"Of course, sorry for keeping you so late, and sorry for the shitty bandage job. I really need to go get more gauze." you rambled nervously as you got up to accompany him on the three-foot walk it takes to get from the couch to your door.

You barely had enough gauze to properly wrap around his wrist, you had to get creative and use tape and butterfly bandaids to stretch across the bits of fabric that doesn’t meet to secure it together.

"It's fine, it's fine," he amended as he laughed nervously, "besides, I have my brace in the car," he admitted nervously—his uninjured hand traveling to rub the back of his neck.

You stared at him in fake outrage, "You had your brace this whole time? Why did you-"

"I wanted to hang out with you," he said, shyly effectively putting your overdramatic reaction to a halt as you flushed.

"Well then ask to grab a coffee or watch a movie, don't waste my precious medical supplies." you teased as you opened the door for him.

His eyes lit up in response as he turned back to face you.

"So would you? Want to hang out again sometime?" he asked his doe eyes shining so bright you swear it was an ability he actively abused.

"I'll have to check my calendar, but I think I can manage to squeeze it in, but first, we should both get through test week," you said, trying to keep a cool tone.

Jungkook’s nose scrunched slightly as he flashed you a bunny toothed smile, and you couldn’t contain your own as he wished you a good night and heading home.

You watch from your door as he made his way down the stairs and to his car. Jungkook turned and looked at you over his shoulder three times as he made the descent, flashing you a small smile and wave each time he did.

Finally, he made it to his car giving one final wave before he buckles in his pulled out of sight. You moved to close the door sighing as you added Jeon Jungkook to the list of confusing emotions spiraling through your life.

You felt a soft nudge and looked down to see Jeremy meowing at you, demanding more food as if he didn't have a full bowl next to him.

You should be scoffing at the audacity of this cat, but instead, Jeon Jungkook has you smiling softly over the memory of how he bent down and gave the kitty some pets while still in his workout clothes from before. The juxtaposition of his tone tattooed arm petting Jeremy’s soft fur would haunt you in the back of your mind for a while.

Jeremy meowed at you again, and you sighed, reaching for his bowl. "Get in here," you called and watched as Jeremy happily trotted into the house.

And you smiled proudly to yourself as you watched the kitty explore his new home, sniffing at your lavender plant with piqued interest.

Fuck Hoseok's rules, You have a pet cat now.

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#bts fic #jungkook x reader #bts gang au #btsghostie #bangtanhq #bangtanscenery #btsbookclub #btsguild #bts mafia au #gangster jungkook #gangster yoongi #gangster hoseok #ganagster jimin #no harm list

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anastasiabeaverhousen87 · 3 years

Text

Praying to the porcelain God

words: 3205

You been told before never to eat from suspicious food stands, especially if you never tried them before or if Kara or Alex haven’t already approved the food. But today you forgot your lunch at home and the food from the cafeteria was not very appealing for you. One of your co-workers saw you make faces at the food options and invited you to eat lunch with them. They were going to get burgers from a new street vendor a couple of blocks away. It was too tempting; you love cheeseburgers and they made it sound like they were really good. So, you said yes. Everyone was going and you were starving.

The following day you woke up feeling a little odd, a bit nauseous but you didn’t think anything about it. You got a chamomile tea instead of coffee and went about your day as usual. Kara was already gone so you just decided to grab a yogurt and granola bar at work.

You finished getting your things ready and were about to leave the apartment when you felt a sharp pain in your stomach followed by cramping. You went to the bathroom and removed your sweater, you felt a swelling of your abdomen and yes, you lower abdomen was inflamed and felt tender to the touch. Another painful cramp made you run to the toilet and you knew you were screwed the moment you sit down.

y/n: “Fuck!!!, ughh it hurts…damn it, Alex is going to kill me” – you didn’t leave the bathroom for a while, you lamented your poor choices while you were sitting in the toilet seat.

You decided you needed to let someone know you felt like shit and wouldn’t be able to get to work with further incidents, so you called Kara. Kara was softer and if you play your card right maybe she could be the buffer between Alex’s lecturing and you. You dialed her number and put it on speaker while washing your hands, you were standing Infront of the sink mirror and put the phone down.

Kara: “Hi sweet girl, what’s up?”

You were about to respond when you felt nausea hit hard, you saw your reflection become green and you ran to toilet once again. Just in time for you to continue emptying your stomach contents, tears sprung into your eyes as the pain in your stomach grew stronger and effort of being violently ill into the porcelain bowl.

On the other side of the line, Kara was listening to you suffering. “Y/N baby? What’s wrong, where are you?” but at not getting a response she ditched everything to fly straight home following your heartbeat.

You stopped vomiting and felt exhausted, you spit into the toilet and flush it. You use toilet paper to clean you mouth and drop to the bathroom floor exhausted. Kara enter the apartment looking for you.

Kara: “y/n?, oh my God what’s wrong baby?”- Kara panics at looking at your body sprawled in the bathroom floor all pale and clammy.

y/n: “Ughh best guess? stomach bug. I just puked my guts out, and before that I emptied my bowels in a different way” - you grimace at the explosive diarrhea you went through less than half an hour ago.

Kara: “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry you feel so poorly. Come on, let me pick you up from the floor”- the blonde woman tries to pick you up, but you feel like you’re not quite over.

Y/n: “Kara, I don’t think I can move quite yet and the floor is cold, it feels nice” –you move a little on the floor to get more of the chilly sensation on your hot skin- “I feel like crap sissy” a tear runs down your cheek and you look up to your sister. Kara brushes the tear away and cradles the side of your face. You are about to move again into a sitting position when you feel your stomach painfully cramp again and you roll into a fetal position trying to make the pain lessen somehow.

Kara: “Oh baby, looks like a horrible stomach bug. But I’m so bad at human illnesses let me call Alex really quick, she is the best when it comes to this kind of things.” Kara looks desperate and seeing you so sick on the floor. Kara is now sitting next to you holding your head in her lap and running her fingers through your hair.

Y/N: “You can’t, busy. Summit in New York” – you mumble trough clenching teeth.

Kara: “I know she is busy with work, but she can take a phone call if it’s an emergency. Its her or the ER. Your call.”

y/n: “Alex…” – you much prefer hearing your helicopter sister ask a thousand question that being prod and wait in the Emergency Room.

Kara takes her phone out of her pocket and dials the number; it rings a few times and then it connects.

Alex: “Hey what’s up, everything okay?”- the red head asks immediately, knowing her sisters wouldn’t be calling her if it was not an emergency.

Kara: “No, y/n is sick. I just found her on the bathroom floor all clammy and she told me she vomited a lot. Also, she thinks it’s a stomach bug.” You can´t hear what Alex says on the phone, then Kara turns the phone on speaker “Ok hold on, yes. Ok ok now you’re on speaker now”

Alex: “Hi little one. I’m so sorry you got sick baby and I bet you feel awful but I need to ask you a few things ok?”

You nod, even though Alex cant see you, but you think if you can let her think it’s a stomach bug going around the office you’ll be off the hook and avoid the speech on getting food from street vendors.

Y/n: “Yeah ok…”- you feel to tire so yes, you can answer whatever she wants as longs she doesn’t ask you to move.

Alex: “Ok sweetie, Kara mentioned vomiting, what else are you feeling? Do you also have diarrhea? is she warm or cold Kara?

Y/N: “painful cramps, diarrhea definitely that was first and the puked my guts out. Honestly, I don’t think there’s anything left inside my intestines by this point. It was super gross Alex. I feel a little cold now. There’s a bug going on around the office and some of the guys got sick”- you say the last part a bit fast and avoid looking at Kara, then you groan in pain at another cramp.

Kara: “She is all clammy, her cheeks are flush, and she is shivering a little. Also, she is now avoiding direct eye contact…” – Kara raises an eyebrow at you, knowing there’s something you are avoiding.

Alex: – “y/n baby, was your stool a little bloody and watery? Or soft and muddy? , also Kara can you check her abdomen does it look a little swollen and prod very gently please “

y/n: “first one”- You can hear Alex give a long sigh

Kara: “definitely swollen and a bit tender”

Alex: “What did you eat yesterday either at lunch or dinner? And don’t even think about lying to me y/n. I will know if you are lying. That’s not just a stomach bug”

Kara is looking down at you worry on her face, “We ate steak and mashed potatoes with some veggies last night. Lena cooked. and I know I can’t get sick, but Lena was okay. So, what did you eat for lunch baby?”

Y/n: “a cheeseburger” –you mumble

Alex: “Where?”

y/n: “A new place near the building, a few of the guys I work with we got burgers yesterday”

Alex: “when you say ´new place, you mean a well stablished franchise or restaurant? Not a street vendor with doubtful hygiene and suspicious meat or produce, right? - ughh busted, you thought.

y/n: “Street vendor” – you lamented

Kara: “ohh sweetie. You know better than that”- Kara kept her gentle touch but looking a bit disappointed in you.

Alex: “Well baby, I hope the burger was so amazing and worth it, because what you have is food poisoning and most likely due to contaminated ground beef with E. coli. There is nothing to stop it or make it better faster. Your body will get rid of the bacteria during the following days. Simply needs to run its course.”

Y/N: “No cheeseburger in world is worth this pain or disgusting vomiting or explosive diarrhea. I feel like crap Lexie”- you play your Lexi card, so your big sister takes pity on you. You feel bad enough as it is, you don’t need to hear more disappointment from her.

Alex: “I know baby girl. Its quite uncomfortable and painful. You need rest and avoid over exerting, that will only make your stomach feel worse. Kara, I need you to make sure she drinks lots of fluids, she will keep vomiting and having constant bowel movements in the next couple of days and she can get dehydrated very quickly. Lots of water and Pedialyte . Let her stomach to settle first . Avoid giving her any solid foods until she is no longer nauseous or vomiting as much. Avoid juices or other beverages with a lot of sugar or sweeteners that can make diarrhea worse. Let’s wait for 24 hours like this without any food and after that we can see if you can ease her back into eating soft and bland food. Call me if she gets worse or if the fever is too high.”

Y/N: “not even hungry anyways…”

Kara: “will do Alex, I’m taking off work for the week I’ll let Lena know. She is out of town as well, but I can handle goober just fine. right kiddo?”

You just try to crawl into Kara’s lap you starting to feel cold and so very tired. “Yeah, I’m cold. You warm”

Alex: “She will sleep a lot, wake her up and make her drink water or fluids Kara, its very important. Make sure her temperature doesn’t go above 102 F. if she get above that range just make her take a bath in lukewarm water or use a cold compress. Let her eat ice chips, NO dairy, no caffeine, no sugar, or fatty food. If she does eat those, she will end up throwing up everything. If temperature goes above 103 take her immediately to the ER. It shouldn’t but keep an eye on that. Seriously Kara call me anytime ok?”

Kara: “Will do Alex. Thanks, and I’ll call you later once y/n is more comfortable and asleep”

Alex: “Ok, feel better sweetie, I’ll be back as soon as I can. Be good for Kara and try to relax and let your body get rid of everything at its own pace. Don’t rush anything. I love you sweetheart. Love you Kara, bye”

Y/N “Bye, love you Lexie”

Kara: “Bye Alex, love you too” – the phone calls gets disconnected. Kara looks down at you. “You think you are ready to move from the bathroom floor to the living room?”

y/n: “can you help me up to rinse my mouth? It tastes like crap ugh”

Kara: “of course. Up we go”- Kara gently stands up with you in her arms and helps you to your feet.

But you get dizzy and grab ahold of Kara’s arms for support

Kara: “hey hey I got you, easy there baby girl”

y/n: “everything its spinning and I don’t feel so g…” but before you can finish the sentence your eyes go wide and Kara see what’s about to happen and helps you to your knees in front of the toilet once again. Kara holds your hair away from your face with her other hand rubbing soothing circles down your spine while providing word of comfort.

You keep vomiting for a few minutes more “ughh I thought I had ridden of everything by now. This Is so disgusting” a few tears leak down your cheeks and Kara just helps you to your feet again and flushes the toilet.

Kara: “I know sweet girl, but Alex did say you will be experiencing vomiting and other stuff for a few days. So, let’s get you rinse your mouth and settle down in the couch so you can sleep this off, okay?”

You just nod and work on getting your teeth brushed and get rid of the nasty taste. Kara helps you to your room to change into your pajamas.

Kara: “Bed or couch?” -you just point down to your bed giving her your answer. “Okay okay” Kara lowers you on your bed and goes to close the curtains so you can rest more comfortably.

y/n: “Hold me?”- you pout pitifully

Kara: “of course baby girl. Let me just get your water and text Lena to let her know I won’t be into work for a few days and also text your boss you’re sick” – I’ll be right back.

y/n:” don’t want water please just hold me, I’m cold sissy”- more tears run down your cheeks, you just want your sister to hold you now.

Kara: “aww chucks, baby you feel real awful don’t ya? Ok here I’ll call later, and you need to drink water in an hour or two. I will wake you up. come here sweet bean”- Kara moves you so you are now lying basically on top of her, you hide your face into her neck and wrap your arms around her. You are leaching on her warmth shamelessly. Kara doesn’t mind at all begins to pat down your back softly like when you were little she needed to calm you down and put to to sleep.

Kara: “Aww my little koala is here. You’re so cuddly baby. I’m sorry you are feeling so poorly but I’ll be here with you all the time. You just close your eyes and go to sleep. You’ll feel better in no time, you’ll see”

y/n: “I’m never eating cheeseburgers again”- you give a yawn and began to drift off. Kara juts chuckles and starts to hum softly a lullaby song she uses since you were a little girl and where having trouble falling asleep or felt sick. You are out in less than 5 minutes.

Kara wait for you to be completely asleep to grab her cellphone she still has on her pocket. Texts Lena you are sick and will call her later, but you are okay just miserable for eating street food. And then sends a quick text to y/n boss, thank Rao she is close friends with y/n otherwise would be a pain to explain why she is texting instead of her employee.

Kara puts the cellphone down on the nightstand and holds y/n more to her chest and begins to run her hand up and down y/n spine and watches her sleep for a little while until herself starts to feel sleepy and decides to take a nap too.

Kara is awaken by your moving around and painful moaning. You curl into yourself as much as you can, trying to wave through the painful cramp in your tummy.

y/n: “It really hurts Kara, it hurts so bad”- you say through clenching teeth and tears sprung into your eyes once again. You feel miserable and in so much pain.

Kara feels you are getting a bit hotter now and you are sweating too. “Okay little one, I think a bath can help you now, and you need to drink a little bit of water. Come here”

y/n: “No. pelease, no Kara. I just want the pain to stop and sleep again. I don’t want a bath” -you cry softly into her neck

Kara: “I’m sorry baby, but you feel too warm and you will feel better after the bath. I’ll stay with you the whole time.”

Kara picks you up from the bed and takes into the bathroom, she sits you down at the toilet seat while she runs a lukewarm bath for you.

Y/n: “Kara I don’t feel so good…” again you turn green and Kara helps you to sit infront the porcelain bowl once more.

You throw up again, but its mostly bile. Kara holds your hair out of your face while making comforting rubs on your lower back while you continue to be sick. your stomach its already empty from all the previous vomiting and you didn’t really eat anything for breakfast. You feel so weak after the effort it took to vomit once again. You are sweaty and pale and slump into Kara. Kara gently runs a hand down your spine and grabs a small towel to clean off the bile in your lips.

Kara: “sshh …baby come one. Its over now. Here use this mouth wash to rinse and spit it in the toilet” -Kara then flushes the toilet and strips you off your clothes. She also strips down to her underwear and gets into the tub with you. She helps you lean into her so she can wash your skin with a soft washcloth and pour the lukewarm water down your body to cool you down. After a while she notices your feel cooler to the touch. Washes your hair gently and lets you lean back onto her. You have always loved the skin to skin contact when feeling sick or unwell. Your sisters have done this many times over the years as well as you mom Eliza. You like feeling their warm skin and listen to their heartbeat. But Kara posses a special feature, she is warmer than any human. You feel her skin on you help you with the chills and you feel yourself drifting off to sleep again.

Kara notices you are almost asleep, and decides you are cool enough now and gently nudges you awake.

Kara: “sweet girl please don’t fall asleep quite yet. Let me dry you off a bit and you need to drink a little bit of water. Then you can sleep again promise”

You grunt in disapproval “Nuh uh … don’t wanna, I just want sleep”

Kara: “ I know sweetie but its not an option, come one”- Kara immediately stands and grabs ahold of you and takes one of the bath robes and uses one on her and then she uses a big fluffy towel to pat you down enough to remove the water excess but leaving your skin a bit damp to help keeping you cool.

She takes you back to your room and sets you on top of the bed and quickly grabs a set of lose shorts and tank top to avoid overheating you. She then sits you with you back on a pillow resting against the headboard while she speeds to the kitchen to get you ice water.

Kara: “Okay sweetie small sips, just a few smalls sips and that’s it.”- she makes you drink a bit of water and leaves the glass on the nightstand again. You notice she is now wearing a pajamas too and in the nightstand there’s also a bowl with water and a few small towels and an empty plastic bow- “Just in case you feel sick and need to vomit again and avoid a trip to the bathroom”

Y/N:” thank you sissy”- you tear up and your chin trembles.

Kara: “No no don’t cry baby girl. Come here”- she gently lifts you up sits down and then lays you on her side you head resting on her collarbone. She left her soft button- up pajama top mostly open so you can lean into her and feel her skin near the collarbone and upper chest. You settle down and keep listening to her heartbeat.

Kara: “sshh sshh…sweetie just close your eyes and sleep. You’ll feel better soon just sleep now” – once again you feel her gentle touch on your back, down your arms and temple. And that soft voice humming the melody you associate with comfort. you move a little trying to find the perfect spot and just like that in less than 10 minutes you’re asleep.

#supergirl #alex x baby danvers #baby danvers #baby!danvers #alex danvers #baby danvers x kara #baby danvers imagine #b!d #sickfic #i feel sick #vomit warning #food poisoning #caretaker #skin to skin

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thelordofdarkreunion · 3 years

Text

Magnificent Scoundrels- Explanation of Caution

Part II of “Pariah”. Sorry it took so long for me to get this out, but I had to re-write it four times. The first was too boring, the second too weird, the third too long and too boring and so on. On to the story!

Aboard the Omen

The marines looked up with barely concealed hatred at Cain. The man in question barely noticed it. He watched, impassively, as the Valhallan Guardsmen tore through the marines’ personal possessions, tipping over containers, opening drawers, and searching every inch of their quarters and person. Teams of Imperials were searching the entire ship, weapons at the ready, bayonets fixed. For what exactly, Adam Vir and the crew of the Omen didn’t know. Only that every member of the crew, alien and human alike, were being held at gunpoint as Imperial Guardsmen walked through the ship’s long halls.

“Nothing on the Captain’s logs, sir,” said one of the Valhallan officers. Vir looked at her with a frown on his face, arms crossed. He had allowed them to do what they wanted to avoid any bloodshed or misunderstanding. He was getting rather fed up, though. If this continued for long, or if things got violent… he still had the Iron Eye suit on under his clothing. Kill Cain and the guards, if necessary, get to the armory, take back the ship. Chaplain Tope walked into the room.

“Nothing, Commissar. Not even amongst the xenos,” he reported. Cain turned to face him, black greatcoat swirling.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Tope. “They can all stand in the presence of Imperial relics and prayers.”

“Good.” Cain keyed his comms. “Colonel? Major? Have you found anything?”

“Nothing. No signs. We used their blueprints to search the entire ship. Everything is clean.” Vir couldn’t take it anymore.

“What’s going on, Cain? What are you looking for?” Cain turned to him and seemed to be musing things over. He spun around.

“You. Marine. What is the proper procedure if you’re being charged in battle?” The marine looked at him strangely.

“Uh… fortify a secure location or take the high ground? Fight back from defensive positions?” Cain nodded slowly. Good.

No signs of taint. No mutations. No psykers except that Emperor-damned xeno. The marines don’t show any signs of excessive violence or willingness to get into close quarters. No murders in training. No odd cliques or groups. The entire ship is exceptionally sterile and clean. No strange blights or markings. No signs of drugs or orgies, thank the Emperor. No perverse and blasphemous symbols painted in blood or other… fluids. They can all stand being around Imperial holy relics and Jurgen. Nothing. Nothing wrong or out of the ordinary throughout the entire ship. Trust them or not.

You are Commissar Ciaphas Cain, noted for his mercy. Hero to your men for not cleaning house when other Commissars would have. You have orders to investigate. You have already trusted xenos. You have already trusted Vir.

Innocentia nihil probat. Innocence proves nothing. Trust leads to a poor end. Your life matters the most, above all else. Hate the xenos. Cleanse the xenos. More trust leads to heresy. That way the path of damnation lays.

He came to a conclusion. Compromise.

“Admiral Vir, I believe this has once again, been another, uh… cultural misunderstanding. Forgive me for my thoroughness.” He looked over at the still put-off stare of the Admiral. “I believe I told you that it’s better to explain too much caution than suffer for not enough. If you’ll come back to my office, I’ll be happy to explain.” Nodding slightly, the same expression still on her face, Vir followed him out of the room. The Imperial Guardsmen stared at the marines for an eternal, awkward moment before their officer snapped at them and they retreated from the room in an orderly fashion. The officer presented a salute, then turned on her heel and marched after them. The marines stared at each other.

“What was that all about?” asked Ramirez to no-one in particular. The other marines shook their heads with varying degrees of anger and perplexity.

“I’m not sure. But I think I know someone who might…” trailed off Maverick pensively.

In the (Temporary and Borrowed) Office of Commissar Cain

Vir followed Cain’s billowing greatcoat back into his office, the place where this mess had all started in the first place.

“Sit down,” offered Cain. “Want anything to drink? Tea? Re- uh, actually… I believe your word for word for it is coffee?” Vir rubbed his forehead.

“Yeah, sure. Coffee is fine.” Cain nodded.

“Jurgen! One tanna, one recaf.” Cain looked back at Vir. “Tanna leaf tea from Valhalla, recaf is coffee.”

“Recaf, re-caffeinated… makes sense.”

“I suppose,” sighed Cain as the drinks were brought in. “Now, on to business.”

“Yes. I would quite like to know what all of that was about.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“...yes. Of course.” Cain rubbed his neck as he tried to find a way to explain. “Where I come from there exists… a corrupting influence, is probably the best way to put it. Uh…” His hand drummed on the side of his mug. “Now, again, where I come from, there are… some… who have… unnatural abilities. They can do… strange, strange things, among them telepathy. However, to access these… abilities puts them into contact with this corrupting influence. Without the blessings of the Emperor, the havoc these individuals can wreak is enormous. It is much, much better to be careful in these sort of situations. I am sorry that this might have been a breach of trust, but if you or anyone else here were actually corrupted and hiding it, the damage to everyone and everything else would have been catastrophic.” He paused, and offered a sincere smile. “If there is any way to repair this mistrust, please tell me, and I shall do my utmost.” Vir waved him off.

“S’alright,” he muttered into his coffee. Another damn misunderstanding. He sighed to himself and looked up. “Now, what about Jurgen?

Maverick entered the Imperial chapel. The temperature here, in contrast to the rest of the Valhallan quarters, was quite mild. While she’d known that the Imperials had built a small chapel on board, she’d never been there, instead meeting Chaplain Tope in the sparse grey of one of the Omen’s conference rooms. She didn't quite know what she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this.

The lighting in the room had been toned down. The normally cheerful white of the rest of the Omen was gone, replaced by a faint yellow glow. Dripping white candles lit an altar, their flames barely flickering in the ship’s recycled air. Kneeling before the altar, his head bowed in prayer, was Tope. A gilded statuette of the golden Imperial eagle was placed reverently on top, next to the candles and a heavy leather bound tome. The entire room had a dark, almost oppressive, gothic feel to it. It was such a contrast to the normal Omen it stopped Maverick in her tracks.

Was that a… skull floating in the corner? She did a double take. Yes, indeed, there was a human skull floating in the corner. Some sort of metal anti-gravity device was placed where the skull normally connected to the vertebrae, and a heavy red prosthetic, glowing an eerie red in the dim light, covered one of its eye sockets. What the hell…?

Above the altar was a painting of a man. He wore a suit of strange armor made of gold, carved and gilded to an almost astoundingly impressive degree. His hair was jet black, and flowed to his shoulders. A massive flaming sword was held in one hand, and a corona of golden light illuminated his body. But it was the expression of such utter righteous fury that took her breath away. This was someone who knew what they were doing was right, and would have no problem utterly annihilating anyone in their way. This figure could only be one person: the Emperor who the Imperials so fervently worshiped.

Tope finished his prayers, made some sort of strange symbol with his hands towards the altar, then smiled over at her.

“Chaplain Maverick. How can I help you?” Chaplain. Not corporal, not just Maverick, chaplain. Interesting.

“I was wondering… exactly what just happened? Why was Cain searching the ship? What was that all about?” Tope nodded, and smiled again.

“Ah, yes.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “Tell me, chaplain. What do you believe?” Maverick looked at him oddly.

“Uh, well… I’m not with any particular religion. I’m really just here to attend to any sort of spiritual needs of the crew.” Tope gave her a strange look. That’s not what he was asking.

What do you believe?

“I believe that there are other… things out there. Spirits, if you will. I can… feel them, almost. If that’s… what you mean.” Tope nodded sagely.

“Of all the people on this ship, Cain and the Guardsmen included, I feel as if you are the wisest person here. I think you understand the most.” Maverick looked at him oddly again. Tope continued. “You see, you are a marine.” He gestured at her physique. “You are quite strong, quite physically capable. As a marine, having seen battle, having seen death, I’m sure you are also quite mentally strong as well. But there is more to that, as you well know. Spiritual strength. The strength of faith. The strength to resist what is beyond.” He gave a small, kindly, laugh, then a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“Faith alone shall save. I saw your face when I explained our religion to you. There is a reason we worship the Emperor. He is the guardian of humanity. Everything about the Imperial Cult can be summed up with one simple phrase: the Emperor protects. Always. And if you have faith in Him, he will protect you as well.” Maverick nodded. So, that’s what they were afraid of. The beyond. Apparently, it was a lot worse where they came from. Good to know. Tope reached over to a side table, barely visible in the dim lighting, and picked up a heavy leather book with (of course) a golden eagle on the cover.

“If you’re ever interested in learning more, read this. It might help answer some of your questions.” Maverick took the book and nodded.

“Of course. Thank you for your time, Chaplain.” He nodded in response.

“Any time.” Maverick turned and walked briskly out of the room. She decided not to ask about the skull.

Cain pursed his lips. “Yes, of course. The reason why this all started in the first place. Jurgen.” Vir’s one good eye looked at him expectantly. Cain sighed. “Again, if this gets out, I’ll be forced to kill you. Just a reminder.” He took a sip of his strong-smelling tea, then began.

“Jurgen is a blank. The people who I told you about earlier, the ones who can manipulate reality and other such things, are called psykers. They draw their power from a strange, corrupted place, as I already mentioned. Jurgen is the opposite of a psyker. He doesn’t change reality, he anchors it. Any sort of… things… tricks…” he struggled for the right word, “Things that do not exist in reality, any changes cannot… take effect, if you will, near him. He shuts down their power, usually with a fair amount of pain for the manipulator. I’ve seen all sorts of reactions to him, from fear, to pain, to outright secures and unconsciousness. Usually any psykers cannot bear to be near him,” he finished. He considered something for a moment, then continued.

“It should also probably be noted that blanks are extremely rare, hence the need to protect what Jurgen actually is. Also, there isn’t any way to stop this power, so, unless you have any ideas, your alien is just going to have to stay away from him.” Not that I’m too terribly concerned about it.

“I understand. I guess I just have to think of something,” mused Vir. He stood up. “It was good to clear things up, Commissar.”

“Of course. The pleasure’s all mine, Admiral.” Vir walked out of Cain’s office, nodding to Jurgen as he left. Wasn’t that interesting? He’d never heard of anything like that before. Someone who could block… well, magic. Knowing some of the things he did, knowing the nature of some threats out there, this was a handy tool indeed. Yes, this could end quite well if he played his cards right.

And there we have it. Unfortunately, Conn is just going to have to stay as far away from Jurgen as possible and/or try not to read the minds of anyone close to him. As usual, if you have any questions, comments, concerns, criticisms, or requests, feel free to ask!

#magnificent scoundrels #writing #story #my writing #my story

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medeafive · 3 years

Text

Blood and Stone - 18

Masterpost

"Just give it a few more seconds," Pepper suggests.

Natasha groans, head dropping back against the cold tiles. It's crowded in here, with the IV drip and two people. Little bathroom. Sitting upright is pretty exhausting, not to mention getting there.

"I think there's a line- yes, it's getting stronger," Pepper announces, flipping the cardboard packaging. "And line means- yeah, line means pregnant. So everything as expected."

Natasha doesn't know if she expected it not to show up because it's a vampire baby, or because she still kind of believes this is all a big misunderstanding, or- "Let's get you back to bed, then," Pepper says, putting the pregnancy test back in the box. "Bruce said if you sleep so much, you need to eat almost every waking hour."

She feels like a stuffing goose shoving more and more food down her own throat. "Could you-"

"Sure," Pepper replies, stepping in to help her up, avoiding the IV drip. "Uh, I'll help you with your pants, too, don't bother."

Natasha closes her eyes, just waiting. Her legs are weak. Everyone is always running around her, bringing her stuff, helping her, steadying her. Pampering. If she weren't so weak… "Here," Pepper says, putting an arm around her waist. "Got it?"

She nods quietly, prying her eyes open to the crass light in the bathroom, taking careful steps. Pepper helps along, opening the door for her, dragging the IV with them. They make it back to the lab where Sam and Sharon are waiting. Sam jumps up, taking over from Pepper and leading her the rest of the way to the bed. She can hardly keep herself upright, collapsing onto the sheets.

"Thanks." Pepper sighs, pushing a few bangs out of her face. "Came back positive. As expected."

"Bruce is still asleep, told him I would change the drip," Sam replies. "Nat, do you hear me?"

It's very mushy. "Mhm," she croaks out.

"Made you a protein shake," Sam says. "And brought some candy bars. If you want anything else, just say it."

"Okay," she mutters. "You don't- need to be here. All of you. All the time."

"I just wanna see Steve-" Sharon hesitates. "Maybe I should just go in now. While he's still asleep."

"Uh, he's being fed through a tube," Sam remarks. "Not the prettiest sight."

Sharon snorts. "I don't care. Uh, I'll just go in quietly. Just a minute. I'll get you immediately if he wakes up."

"Careful," Sam advises. "Uh, I'll take a Snickers if you don't mind."

Natasha chuckles, the sound scratching in her throat. "Bastard. Gimme one."

The wrapping rustles. A door closes somewhere. "There," Sam's voice says. "So… we haven't really had the chance to talk."

"About what," Natasha replies, feeling around his hand until her fingers close around the chocolate. "No idea what you're referring to."

Sam, surprisingly, doesn't call her a smartass. "Tony said something to the effect that you don't want the abortion."

She's too exhausted to fight. Hell, she can't even keep her eyes open. "...don't understand, do you."

Sam sighs. "It's not about understanding. I just don't know what my- what the right thing- if you wanted to jump off a roof, I should clearly stop you. Even if you really wanted to jump."

"Jump off a roof," she repeats weakly.

"I don't know if you noticed but you're not doing well," Sam remarks. "And you're very much at the beginning, so it's gonna get a lot worse. So continuing is kind of suici-"

A door opens and closes very quickly. "Shit, shit, shit," Sharon breathes. "I woke him up. Shit."

She can very well imagine the look of exasperation on Sam's face. "I'll take care of it. Can you look after her? Wake up Bruce if her vitals take a dive."

"Yes, sure," Sharon replies quickly. "Sorry. Really."

The door opens and closes. Sharon takes a seat somewhere. There's some sort of struggle next door. "Here," Sam's voice says. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," the strange voice croaks. "Who- who was that dame?"

"Sharon," Sam replies hesitantly. "Listen, the- the war is over, so could we just- I'm Sam."

Silence. "The war is over?"

"Yeah, you missed a lot."

"You said something- I don't remember but it was very upsetting. Uh, Steve. I'm Steve."

"Oh yeah. The year."

"But who won? The war?"

"Oh, the Allied forces. That actually ended quite well. Apart from the Soviet Union."

"Well, that's- what happened with the Soviet Union?"

"Gained control of most of Eastern Europe, including a part of Germany. Installed Communist satellite governments and all. But there was a peaceful revolution a few years ago, so the Communists are not in power anymore. The Nazis are pretty much gone, by the way. Other than- well."

Groaning. "Can I have something to drink before that? Sam?"

"Oh, sure. You're really going to need it."

"...gave her Glucagon but her blood sugar is still low…"

"... like bleeding out…"

"Kofola?"

"...might drop into a coma if we…"

"...cut it out…"

"Her pulse is super fast… weak…"

"Try honey, my mom used to…"

"No time…"

"...shock…"

"15 minutes?"

"Do you have any idea how hard it is…"

"Do it."

"Cut it out."

"All our reserves…"

"... extremely low blood pressure."

"...normal…"

"Just…"

"...the infusion…"

"Then we'll…"

"...can't be sure…"

"...gotta do something… right now…"

"...try…"

"...she's gonna die…"

"...sugar… sweet…"

"...blood… vampire blood…"

"...don't know…"

"...something…"

"...stop…"

"...die…"

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

"I think she just twitched."

"So what? You never twitch?"

"Doesn't mean she's awake."

"How much is that now?"

"Less than a bag. Half a liter maybe."

"And we only have two? Great."

"I mean, we have a lot of vampire blood."

"That's crazy. You have no idea what that would do to her body."

"Kinda do, don't we."

"Ah, yes, I will forever remember when you warned her she'd regrow her uterus ."

"Look, healing is a very fluid concept."

"Nice try."

"What about the ice block?"

"Went back to sleep. Was just trying to explain to him what Vietnam even is."

"Well, what is Vietnam?"

"You never went to that Vietnamese restaurant over in Žižkov? It's really great, you should."

"Maybe Barton should join your lessons."

"Is that still open?"

"Sure. Nothing better than soup after a night on patrol."

"I hate all of you."

"Maybe it's our only option. The vampire blood."

"Yes, let's poison her some more."

"Steve seems to be doing fine!"

"Have you checked his teeth?"

"I think she twitched again."

"I saw nothing."

"Didn't see anything either."

"Oh, now she definitely twitched."

"Maybe she can hear us?"

"I hope she can't hear all of you idiots."

"I'm just glad her blood pressure is going up."

"Yeah, really surprising she has more blood now that we pumped it directly into her veins."

"Shut up."

"Excuse me, I have to explain to Steve who you even are ."

A door slams somewhere above.

"Oh great. Is that…"

"You expect anyone else?"

"Really been looking forward to that."

She hardly hears the steps but the swooshing cloak. "What the fuck are you doing?"

James. That's James' voice. She tries to pry her eyes open just a little. "That's something you should answer. Or rather, what you were doing."

She feels a gush of cold air and the touch of cold firm stone that slowly warms up. "Is she hurt? Was it the raid-"

"Pregnant. She's pregnant."

"She's what ?"

"Oh, now you're surprised ?"

"Hey," she croaks out.

More of the cold touch on her hand. "Oh, Nat. Are you- how do you- how are you?"

"Mhm." Her mouth is too numb to talk but she tries to smile. "Mhm."

"Her blood pressure is very low," Bruce explains. "This thing is basically sucking the blood and the sugar and the nutrients out of her and using that to grow rapidly. I'm afraid she won't be able to handle it much longer."

"Then why haven't you gotten rid of it-"

"Mhm!"

"We haven't decided yet. And we're still waiting for a gynaecologist because I definitely can't do that."

"How is it even possible that-"

"Oh, fuck off. As if you don't know."

"Of course I don't know! How was I supposed to- I'm a fucking vampire, if you haven't noticed."

"Well, certain things seem to be working just fine. Looks like you noticed that."

"Don't get gross, Tony. Well, she had her uterus removed, years ago, so she shouldn't have been able to get pregnant. But it’s back now. Our theory is that the injection of vampire blood somehow reconstructed or regrew it."

"I mean, she's been injecting it for months, on and off. But why that would affect her- it doesn't fix scars either, that's not how vampire blood works."

"Wait, for months?"

"She didn't wanna tell you. To get stronger, to heal faster."

"Wow, you're both the worst."

"But it worked for her? I don't think she had a lot of adverse side effects- apart from the uterus thing. We could really use that now."

"Mhm."

"I think she wants to say something."

"Mhm!"

"Give her something to drink, that should help."

"Is that Coca Cola ?"

"Kofola. Don't ask, it was a longer discussion."

"Has a lot of sugar, though."

"Still disgusting."

"Sweetheart, if you don't like it here, just go home."

"Mhm. Mhm."

"It's for the blood sugar."

Someone helps her lift her back, sit up. Steadies her with a pillow. She opens her mouth tentatively and starts drinking. Her lips and mouth are still numb so she drools a little but she's also quite thirsty. She has no idea what time or day it is. The sugary drink, carbonated, caffeinated, it seems to go to her brain as well, waking her up. She leans back, eyes fluttering open. Very bright. "More?" Sam's vague shape asks, very close.

She shakes her head slowly, blinking. "So when is that other doctor coming?" James' voice asks.

"She's in Italy," Fury says. "Could take a few days."

She gathers her breath and her spit. "No."

They turn to her, still vague silhouettes. "I don't want the-"

Her voice is breaking and she's not sure they even hear her. "I should change the blood bag," Bruce says.

"She's still very pale," Pepper says. "I don't like it."

"James," she whispers. He's sitting at her bedside, holding her hand. He's warmer than her.

"Pulse?" Fury asks.

"Still rather quick," Bruce replies. "I'll put in the second one. And then we'll just have to see."

She tries to squeeze James' hand, weakly. "Yeah, she can't eat all the time," Sam says. "I'm not even sure her stomach can work quick enough."

"This is too much," Sharon whispers. "For her body."

"Well, maybe should have thought about that beforehand," Tony needles.

James hisses at him, all fangs. "As if that was- what do you even want, just help her already."

"Trying," Bruce mutters, somewhere on her left.

"Just take it out," James pleads. "Just, for the love of God, please kill that thing before it kills her. Please."

"James," she whispers, holding onto his hands.

"Yeah, tell her that," Clint advises. "Cause she won't hear it."

"James," she whispers. "Please. No."

"Everyone's crazy here," Tony states.

"Okay, done," Bruce says. "I really don't know about the vampire blood."

"She's barely conscious," Sam remarks. "I'm not sure she can- tell what she wants. If she really understands the situation."

"The situation he got her into," Tony points out. "Let's not forget that."

"Come on, we all know her," Clint says. "She'd never- if she were in her right mind, she'd get rid of that monster instantly."

She digs her nails into James' hand. "Guys!"

"Get out," James demands coldly. "All of you."

Of course, Tony can't keep himself from a final dig. "Isn't that just how we got here-"

"Out," James hisses. "I won't ask again."

"We'll wait outside," Fury says.

Natasha relaxes slightly, slumping back against the pillow. She really can't see well but she feels James' warm hands around hers. "Thank- Thanks."

The door falls shut. "Oh Natalia," James mutters, stroking her cheek. "I'm so sorry."

"Drink," she says.

He takes the bottle and helps her drink. More sugar, more hydration. Maybe it's the blood transfusion but she's beginning to feel a little better, a little clearer. Boy, must she be dirty. "Do I- smell?"

"Honestly," James replies, putting the bottle away. "You smell like you are dying. Without the bleeding."

"But I want it," she whispers.

He sighs. "You maybe want a baby but… this is a monster, a parasite. That's not what you want. I can't give you that."

"You don't know that," she says.

"I can see what it's doing to you," he replies. "Please don't do that to yourself. I care about you, I love you, you're everything to me, please don't let my mistakes kill you."

"Your mistakes?" she repeats. "Don't listen to them. They'll- they'll do everything to blame you."

"I blame me," he replies. "Because I should. I dragged you through way too much even before this."

"I kissed you," she says, trying to get her argument straight. "I slept with you. I wanted to. And now I want- I believe this happened for a reason."

He snorts. "Divine punishment?"

"Before all of this, I wanted-" She takes a deep breath. "A family. I gave that up for… And now I have a baby, and I'm not going to give it up."

"It's not a baby if it sucks the life out of you," James replies. "And I can't give you anything better, I can't give you a family, I'm sorry. I wish you could… maybe, if you had run. But we're here now and… don't let this be the end."

"I might never get another chance," she remarks. "Never. And we have so much vampire blood, Bruce knows so much about- I want to try. Don't throw this away."

"I don't want you to have my-" He sighs, rubbing his thumb over her hand. "I want you to have the baby you wanted before, a human baby. A real baby. Who knows what kind of- what if it's a vampire, it's already sucking your blood. Who knows how it'll turn out. If you ever get to see that at all. I never brought you anything good."

"Don't stop me," she pleads. "Please."

"What if the vampire blood doesn't work like you think it will?" James asks. "Please don't risk that for this thing."

"The doctor won't be here immediately anyway," she whispers, exhausted again. "Try the vampire blood. Make them try. Please."

James sighs. "Anything for you, Natalia. Always."

She tries to smile. "Tell them. And I love you, too."

"Oh God." He jerks back slightly. "Please tell me you're not doing this to have my- offspring, it is not worth having. Who knows how fucked up my genes are-"

"Oh God, you idiot," she breathes. "You're not that bad. But no, not having it for you. Seriously, you thought I'm not in love with you, I was just banging you because I got bored or what-"

"Don't exhaust yourself," James interrupts.

She rolls her eyes, closing them. "I'm glad you're here."

"Wish it were under different circumstances," he says. "I'll let the others back in, if that's okay."

"Mhm." Boy, talking is exhausting her. "Yeah."

He leans forward and pecks her dry lips, his are cold, and then he's suddenly at the door. "Give her the blood transfusion. The vampire blood."

Bruce peeks in. "I can't promise it won't make it worse. Maybe she'll go into cardiac failure-"

"She's dying if you don't do it," James states.

"Oh, yeah, he's the expert," Tony's voice remarks.

"Please do it," she croaks out.

Bruce moves closer to her because her voice is so quiet. "Hm?"

"Do it," she whispers again. "I know- know- what it does."

"If she's really been taking it for months, she knows better than anyone," Sharon argues. "I'd say give her a small dosis."

"But maybe a small dosis is not enough," Pepper remarks. "How much did you give her for the black cloak?"

"The ratio between human blood and vampire blood was much different then."

"Oh, come on, weren't we going to pump the ice block full of it?"

"Yeah, but he was frozen ."

"We gave her about 200ml. But not at once."

"Just give her something already."

"But how much is something ?"

"Try a hundred."

"So she was basically juicing-"

"I don't think it will negatively impact her. The foetus…"

"That you wanted to abort against her will minutes ago."

"Yeah, honestly, if it kills that thing or slows its growth, that's not the worst thing."

"And if it supercharges it?"

"Do it," Fury's voice interrupts. "Or do you want to stand here while she's wasting away?"

"So a hundred milliliter-"

"Here's a syringe."

"Inject it straight away."

"It might conflict with the blood transfusion-"

"Brucey, now is a really bad time to play through all the doom scenarios."

There's some more indistinct talking and then the needle sinks into her arm. She's too numb to really feel it.

"Seems okay."

"Nobody said she was going to spontaneously combust."

"If it goes really wrong, we might have to amputate the arm-"

"Bruce, calm down, you're driving everyone else crazy."

"It's going to be okay."

She's beginning to feel the emptiness in her left arm that she recognizes. It's never spectacular. "Alright," Fury states. "Putting that aside-"

"Putting that aside ?" James repeats.

"Why, you wanna talk about it?" Fury asks drily.

"...No."

"Didn't think so. What is the status on the black cloaks that were going to come here every day now?"

"Wow, I really forgot about that."

"I went to the Castle and- pretended to be really surprised hearing what happened to Pierce and- they haven't heard from Schmidt yet. So I told him I could find her and hunt her down and that she probably left town. Was going to ask her to stay in… guess that's not an issue. Anyway, Rumlow sent another messenger to Schmidt, maybe that will buy us more time."

"And he believed you," Fury questions.

"Lying comes really natural to you, doesn't it," Clint remarks sourly.

"Seriously," James hisses. "You wanna do that now ?"

"Boys, calm down."

"So neither of you should be seen around town?"

"Rumlow doesn't really care. But no one knows what Schmidt is going to do."

"Well, Nat's definitely staying in."

"So you could go back? Cover intact?"

"Why would I go back ?"

"Find out what Schmidt's planning. When the messenger comes back."

"I can't do this forever."

"But how long? That's the point..."

"...already dead, so there's no hurry…"

"...might be really mad…"

"...certainly understand.."

"...looking for her…"

"...really said…"

"...kill her?"

Something starts beeping.

"Oh-oh."

#blood and stone #buckynat #natasha romanoff #black widow #bucky barnes #winter soldier #vampire au #fanfic #my writing

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keeroo92 · 4 years

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Be My Nightmare Ch14

Truth

Warnings for NSFW, brief mention of alcoholism and edgeplay.

Word count - 6,039

~~~~Previous Chapter~~~~

Tagging a few people who mentioned looking forward to this: @blqckmedusa @m-pana @kylo-v @wackywoohoopizzalady @tehrevving Sorry if I missed anyone :)

_________

On the other side of town, a young woman sat in a dark room surrounded by filing cabinets. Her chocolate hair hung in a limp ponytail, loose strands attesting to how long she’d been there. Empty coffee cups littered her desk along with scraps of paper with half-formed thoughts scrawled upon them. Shadows played under her eyes and an exhausted slump curled her shoulders, but she couldn’t give up now.

“Hey, I’m heading out. Don’t stay too long, okay, kid?” a familiar voice said from the doorway. Tony.

Officer Nicoletta Goldstein forced a dry chuckle from her lips. “You got it, I won’t be long. Just finishing up.”

Her mentor offered a lazy salute and turned away, his heavy steps echoing through the nearly empty police station as he approached the elevator.

Nico frowned and returned her attention to the monitor, releasing yet another deep sigh as her latest search came up empty. She hadn’t expected it to be easy, but digging up dirt on Waras was proving more challenging than she imagined. A more spotless record, she’d never seen. If anything, it made her even more suspicious.

There’s gotta be something, I can feel it!

If Tony caught her looking into the doctor, he’d be furious. They’d already had an argument about it, but still she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Normal folk didn’t leave crime scenes without showing some kind of reaction to them. The neutral, flat expression on Waras’ face on her way out wasn’t right. The young officer might even call it indecent.

Tony said it made sense, considering her career. The woman dealt with criminals on a regular basis, no doubt she was desensitized to horror by now. He had a point, but she knew from personal experience how different it felt to be there in person, instead of looking at pictures or hearing someone tell you about it.

When Nico first saw the carnage, she’d had to run outside to vomit. It was far from her first murder scene, but never had she viewed such gruesome evidence. Even thinking about it brought a sour taste to her tongue. She’d expected a similar reaction from a civilian.

Maybe her social security records have something?

She opened yet another database and entered the search terms, reaching for the most recent cup of coffee as it loaded the results.

“Ugh,” she grumbled, grimacing at the ice-cold fluid. Why couldn’t the search run faster? Crappy government internet… Might as well get a fresh cup while she waited. Stretch her legs.

She stood and sighed, glancing once more at the monitor before departing for caffeine. The progress bar was halfway done, she had plenty of time.

As the echo of her footsteps faded, a soft ping sounded from the unattended computer.

---Reader---

You had to admit, it was nice to come home to a hot meal. The chicken was spiced perfectly, and the vegetables had a delightful crunch. The madman knew his way around a kitchen, it seemed.

I should make sure none of the knives are missing later.

“I couldn’t find any wine; I hope the meal is still to your satisfaction.”

Late afternoon light spilled through the window behind him, lighting his form with a gentle glow. The scent of lemon and sizzling meat wafted from the kitchen area, the fruits of his labor still waiting on the stovetop. Quiet music flowed from your stereo, barely noticeable but the ideal accompaniment for a meal.

You swallowed the savory bite residing in your mouth and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t drink much.”

Forest green eyes studied you curiously, the artist’s chin resting on one hand. He’d been more attentive than when you left; he must be feeling better. For a moment, it was all too easy to forget who you were with and enjoy the fading light of the setting sun behind him. If only the peaceful facade of two regular people sharing a meal were true.

He’s a killer. You just saw what he’s capable of.

“Why not?” he asked.

You took another bite and shook your head. “My dad’s a drinker. I’d rather not get into it.”

“Hmm, what shall we discuss, then?”

The fork in your hand clicked against the almost clean plate as you set it down. “How about Michael?”

“Who?”

So he didn’t even know his victims name. Was it all coincidence, then? Most likely; his other victims seemed random, too. His unpredictable targets were part of why the police needed your help.

“That’s the name of the man you killed and chopped into pieces.”

His face lit up, an excited shine entering his gaze. “Ah, yes! You found the true meaning, I assume?”

Suddenly, the bottle of whiskey hiding behind the olive oil sounded appealing. How the hell were you supposed the talk about this? You were no stranger to complicated conversations but chatting about the artistry in a murder scene was a new standard.

No doubt the artist would break that standard soon, too.

Yup, getting drunk is looking better by the second.

You pursed your lips. “Yes, I found it. You’re not quite as clever as you think you are.”

A beat passed in silence before he smirked, carefully setting aside the remains of his meal. “I do not recommend you underestimate me.”

“I could say the same, you know. I can still turn you in.”

He hissed, muttering something under his breath with a glance to your left. Most of his words were lost to the void, but you caught something about chicken soup and plucking.

“If you were going to betray me, you would’ve already done so. You’re in too deep to run now,” he said a moment later. “But I am curious what you thought of my work.”

You hummed and sat back with a sly smile. True, it was too late to run, but that didn’t mean he held all the cards. Not even close. It was about damned time you regained the upper hand.

“We can trade. A straight answer for a straight answer.”

“Oh, are you finally willing to stop hiding? I admit, I have many questions. Griffon and Vergil, too.”

So, he was still hallucinating. It made sense, especially since he wasn’t getting any medication anymore. You couldn’t help but wonder what he wanted to know, and how different the questions from his voices would be. How much of his odd personality was his own? How much was a manifestation of trauma? How much of it was real?

“Let’s raise the stakes. What if I refuse to answer you? What should my penance be?” he asked.

You eyed him, noting his slim build. No doubt he hadn’t had much exposure recently, his system wouldn’t handle it well. The chicken might slow down the process, but still. Plus, you knew your own tolerance could handle it.

Thanks, dad…

“Whiskey. I have a bottle in the cupboard.”

Sure, there was some risk to it; if he drank too much, you’d have to clean up any vomit. You’d have to watch him carefully and stop him before it got to that point. What kind of drunk would the man turn out to be? An honest one, hopefully.

At his agreement, you fetched the unopened bottle and a fresh pair of glasses, filling them before taking your seat again. The signature smell made you gag, but you’d drink him under the table with ease. It was in your blood, after all.

“So… who goes first?” you asked.

The murderous artist smirked and took a tiny sip, sampling the drink. “The lady, of course. Don’t hold back.”

Smug bastard, he has no idea how fucked he is.

“Who was the white-haired man in the painting?”

The change was instant; his smirk flipped into a tight frown, his shoulders tensed and a muscle in his jaw twitched. He didn’t like that question, not one bit. Maybe you should’ve started with something a little gentler.

The artist released a deep breath and closed his eyes. “His name was Nero. He was my friend.”

“What happened to him?’

He tutted, shaking his head like a parent scolding a child. “Ah, ah, ah. It’s my turn now. What did you think of… Michael, was it?”

You pursed your lips and swirled the amber fluid in your glass. It was a mild enough question, a safe place to start. Might as well answer and conserve your capacity. Considering your experience with him so far, you’d need it later. He was too clever for you to expect to get out of this game sober.

“I thought it was extraordinary. Chaos to a casual glance, but an intricate web designed with one purpose for those who look deeper. Very clever, if grotesque.”

To your shock, a pink stain tinted his cheeks and the madman averted his gaze. He was embarrassed, unbelievable. Someone with his ego should be used to praise.

But it was your turn. Time for an answer, or to force him to drink. You repeated your question from moments ago, watching his expression like a hawk. Even if he refused, you’d learn something here.

He sighed and raised his glass, taking a generous gulp. Damn.

“My turn. Are you a virgin?” he tossed back.

Well. Apparently personal boundaries were a thing of the past, that much was clear. Sex wasn’t that personal, though. Everyone did it, why beat around the bush and pretend to be pure and innocent? “No. Why did you leave school?”

“Hmm, that’s easy. My calling drew me elsewhere. What’s your relationship with your father like?”

You crossed your arms and glared at him. “I thought we agreed to give straight answers. Why did you leave school?”

Adam’s apple bobbing, he licked his lips and fidgeted with his glass, refusing to meet your intense gaze as the last dregs of sunlight faded away. Judging by how uncomfortable he seemed, you were on the right track. This line of inquiry held great promise. Maybe tonight was the night you’d finally figure out why he did the things he did.

“There was… an attack,” he murmured at last. “It opened my eyes to the truth, that innocence and naïveté are foolish and must be eradicated. I woke to my purpose and left to fulfill it.”

A moment passed in reflective silence. This was a major piece of information, the latest step toward the truth. The thrill of resolution danced across your skin and sent your heart galloping. If you could get him to tell you just a little more, you’d solve the puzzle at last. Finally- answers.

Assuming you didn’t fuck it up and make him raise his guard again. It wouldn’t do to be disrespectful and break his melancholy remembrance. Instead, you pondered what else you might ask and watched the shadows dance across the table.

Eventually, his eyes lifted to meet yours once more. “Forgive me. It is not a pleasant memory.”

“I understand. Take your time,” you replied softly.

The quiet was unbearable. Perhaps you’d gone too far, pushed too hard too soon. It wasn’t easy to judge where the line was, it never had been.

“What do you do for fun, doctor?”

Wait, what?

Even with all the questions you’d imagined he might ask, this hadn’t crossed your mind. It was too mundane, too ordinary. The sort of thing Kotomi would’ve asked you.

Oddly enough, you didn’t want to answer. The things you did in your spare time didn’t include normal hobbies like cooking or going for a jog. You didn’t like talking about it, because inevitably others made fun of your interests. The idea of the man before you laughing at your expense left your heart feeling strangely tight.

You lifted your glass and took a sip, cringing as the fluid burned its way to your belly. Disgusting.

“Interesting…” murmured the artist.

Shit, maybe I should have made something up.

But it was your turn. No time to think about it, better to find a good question instead. What combination of words would unlock the mystery of his origin?

“What kind of attack was it?”

He sighed and traced the lip of his glass with one finger, thinking. Technically, the question didn’t reveal anything about him directly, and it wouldn’t be hard to find the truth online. Any kind of attack would have made headlines. It was a gamble to ask openly, but the odds of victory seemed high.

“A shooting,” he replied at last. “But back to you… why did my last question make you uncomfortable? What twisted hobby are you hiding?”

Bastard. He’ll figure it out if I answer.

The dark liquid didn’t burn as much this time, instead leaving a pleasant tingle in its wake. How strong was it, anyway? What had Kotomi gotten you? It shouldn’t affect you this much yet, but there was no mistaking the warmth growing within. Maybe you should’ve finished dinner first, gotten a bit more meat in your stomach.

A quick glance at the bottle your ex-friend gave you for Christmas explained it. Fifty-seven percent, no wonder it was hitting you hard. You couldn’t afford to keep drinking like this, or you’d end up completely wasted.

It didn’t matter. You would win this. Failure was unacceptable.

“How many voices do you hear?”

He chuckled and rolled his shoulders. The black shirt he wore hid nothing and your eyes traced the curve of his muscles, admiring his broad chest and defined form. Why did he have to be so damned attractive? The whole situation would’ve been simple if he was balding or had a beer gut, but no…

I should have some water. Already feeling foggy.

“Three, though I consider them friends. They aren’t simply ‘voices’, but I doubt you’d understand.”

The man had the audacity to smirk as he met your eyes, as if he knew you were watching the way his body moved. Coils of heat gathered in your core when his tongue darted out to moisten his lips, all without looking away. Bastard.

“My turn. Have you ever wondered what it’s like to take a life?”

The warmth turned to ice. Of course you had, but you didn’t want him to know that. There was no safe answer here. No matter what you did, he’d see right through your lies or find a way to use the truth against you. The man excelled at mind games, maybe a drinking game was unwise.

You raised your glass, shocked to see that it was already close to empty. A single swallow remained; just enough to dodge the question.

“Ha, I’ll take that as a yes.”

Your vision swam. Using the larger glasses was a miscalculation, and you were paying the price. It almost made you laugh; every time you thought you’d outsmarted the murderous artist, he proved he was two steps ahead. In an odd way, it was nice. Finding someone that could keep up with you was rare.

“Whatever, it’s my turn. How mush do you plan ahead for your kills?” you slurred. Damnit.

As you spoke, he refilled your glass with a knowing smirk. His was still half full.

“Not much. Usually I have an idea for the piece but it’s quite vague, until I find the right canvas.”

You pursed your lips. “You mean the right person.”

He frowned and leaned in, eyes glittering. Did they always look that green?

“Tell me, doctor. Do you really consider everyone equally valuable to society? Aren’t there some who, while cared for, do not contribute? When looking at society from a utilitarian perspective, what determines someone’s value? Why should it matter who I choose, so long as they fulfill their role?”

Without thinking, you took a healthy swallow from your freshly filled glass, mulling over his words. “But why do you get to pick? Plus, if you cut someone’s life short, you’re not just destroying their current contribution but any future ones. Just because someone isn’t doing something important now doesn’t mean they never will. Who are you to deshide?”

“Would you rather choose them yourself?”

“Th- that’s not the point!” you stuttered. “You shouldn’t kill people!”

A frustrated growl rumbled from his throat. “People die every day, for no other reason than they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. My work serves as a reminder to be vigilant. It might make the difference for someone out there.”

He had a point. Nothing served to guide social change quite like the need for safety. People were idiots like that, sacrificing anything just for the illusion of normalcy. But would his work truly accomplish what he hoped for?

Fuck if I know.

You giggled, then leaned back and sighed, too tipsy to continue the debate. A warm buzz saturated your senses, the slightest hint of dizziness only adding to the whimsical mood. Drinking wasn’t so bad, maybe you should do it more often.

“Whose turn was it?” you asked with a crooked smile.

The artist gave you a bemused look and reached for your glass. “It seems wise to stop for now. At least the drinking aspect, that is.”

“Ha. Are you admitting defeat?”

The clatter of glass on wood echoed through the room as he set aside the glasses and bottle, smirking again. Smug bastard. “Not at all. Do your worst.”

You drummed your fingers on the table, assessing options. Curiosity tugged at your mind and danced across your tongue, a myriad of questions begging to be answered. Knowledge is power, as the saying goes.

“What was your first kill like?”

“Messy. It took a few tries to refine the technique,” he replied with a mischievous look. “My turn. Did you enjoy yourself at the museum?”

Though blood already heated your cheeks from drinking, somehow your face managed to heat even more. The beat of your heart quickened, and goosebumps prickled your flesh. You squirmed as your core twitched, the memory enough to slicken your walls. Did you dare to answer? He’d taken away your drink; did you even have a choice?

They don’t call it liquid courage for nothing.

“Yeah, until I had to babysit you and drag your sorry ass here. What’s your full name?”

The ebony-haired man chuckled and took a sip. His glass still wasn’t even half empty.

“You know, my dear doctor… you haven’t returned the favor I performed.”

A snort of humor slipped from your lips. As if you hadn’t already risked everything for him, now he wanted more? But maybe you could turn this to your advantage. It might be fun to make him lose control. Time to change the game. New tactics, since the old ones weren’t working.

Besides, an orgasm might help you sober up.

“Hmm, are you requesting a consult?”

He stood and stepped closer, licking his lips. Bastard.

“Your insight would be greatly appreciated,” he purred.

His voice sent a shudder down your spine. The beige walls of your home spun and you blinked, forcing your eyes to focus through the drunken haze. Between your legs, flames licked at your core and urged you onward, wanton need filling you with daring. Or maybe that was the whiskey.

“I do shpecialize in psychiatry… I suppose I could examine your head.”

The artist’s eyes widened, his pupils blown as you reached for his belt. A single finger hooked around the leather and tugged his body closer, and you scooted to the edge of the chair in preparation with spread legs. The angle wasn’t great, but it was too late to worry about it.

“Tell me alllllll about your symptoms,” you murmured with a sultry smirk. Oh, you’d show him who was in charge all right. No mercy, not even if he begged.

But the accursed man wasn’t yet fazed, his steady hands stroking your cheeks and hair and leaving trails of sparks behind. “I’ve had terrible swelling, and a slight fever…”

You licked your lips and unhooked his belt, giving the buckle a sharp tug to remove it fully. It made a satisfying snap! and you grinned, fingers already teasing at his pants. The tight fabric did little to conceal his engorged cock, and you dragged your thumb over the end with just a hint of pressure.

The resulting groan was all the encouragement you needed; you’d see him come undone tonight.

Mere heartbeats later, the length you’d glimpsed weeks ago stood before you in all its glory, thick and curved and already shining with arousal. A throbbing vein ran down his length, the perfect target for teasing. Soft as a feather, you dragged the tip of your tongue down the vein. Your heart was racing, sinful desires flooding your system with lust.

“Ah… what treatment would you recommend?”

You smirked at the tension in his normally honeyed voice. This was going to be fun.

“We’ll have to relieve the pressure somehow. You might need regular treatment, too.”

The artist hummed, hooded eyes glittering down at you as his hands guided your lips closer once more. Blood thundered in your ears, anticipation a heady drug as he rested his cock on your lower lip, forcing you to make the next move. His scent tickled at your nose, the first hint of his essence enough to leave you dizzy. You could barely breathe, you wanted to taste him so bad!

How does he smell so good?

“And what are my chances of recovery?”

“Don’t worry, I take excellent care of my patients,” you replied, and then you made your move.

Your tongue danced across his slit, back and forth until not a drop remained of the creamy sample. Tattooed fingers twitched, his staccato breathing a mark of the effect you had on him. His tangy flavor tingled on your taste buds and summoned lightning across your skin, fanning the flames heating your core.

“I feel better already,” he crooned.

It almost broke your focus.

Almost.

The smooth, hot flesh of his head was heaven in your mouth as you engulfed him with a soft moan, caressing the ridge with your tongue. Dainty hands drifted up his thighs to grasp his hips and ease him into motion. A low growl escaped his mouth as you hollowed your cheeks and explored his shaft, mapping every inch.

Hellfire and brimstone, he tasted gooooooood. It wasn’t fair how he fit inside your mouth so perfectly, or how his every touch made you shiver. You’d never experienced such intense need, all consuming and impossible to deny.

The artist fisted your hair and snapped forward, tapping at the back of your throat with a muttered curse. Unprepared for the sudden invasion, you gagged on his length but quickly recovered and welcomed him as deep as he’d go, humming as he somehow filled you even more. Hair tickled at your nose and you pulled back, working your tongue and coating him in your saliva.

You paused to press kisses on his toned stomach and bring your hands to help in your efforts, stroking and teasing at the tender area. The murderer shivered under your ministrations, his dark and hungry eyes watching your every move. A sheen of sweat coated his abs, his normally alabaster skin tinged pink in between his intricate tattoos.

“Should I continue?” you asked with a smug smirk.

In response, his hands tangled in your hair and guided your mouth back in place. You didn’t resist, shifting your hips to rub your aching clit against your chair. Ripples of arousal blasted your nerves as you started grinding, whimpers slipping from your crowded mouth. Setting a steady rhythm, you bobbed up and down his length, moaning at his flavor and reveling in the power you held to summon such obscene sounds from his throat. What would it feel like, to have him inside you?

I wanna know…

His rolling hips shattered the lewd images racing through your mind, forcing you back to the present as he blocked your airway. In and out, harder and faster with each moment. Impressive enough to make your jaw ache, but it didn’t matter. You wouldn’t stop until he broke.

A harsh gasp and sudden twitch of his length signaled his imminent release and you pulled away, lips swollen but curled into an impish grin. The expression on his face was perfection, frustrated and hungry and begging for more.

“Well, that’s just cruel,” he said.

You giggled and flicked your tongue across his tip, teasing. A small corner of your mind warned you of the danger of teasing a serial killer, but you ignored it. It was the same voice that told you not to stand out or break the rules, the voice that chained you in normalcy. The power it once held over you seemed so foolish, now.

“You want more?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

A low growl rumbled up his chest as he seized your jaw, putting pressure on the hinge until you opened to accept his scorching length. It shocked you to realize how much you enjoyed provoking him, and the sheer thrill of his dominance. You matched his pace, rubbing against the chair to ease the howling need between your thighs. It didn’t help much.

His hands would feel so much better…

But tonight, it was his turn to beg. The moment his grip on your hair loosened, you pulled away again, wiping trails of drool from your lips. “Use your words. Tell me what you want.”

The artist hummed, fingers lazily caressing your cheeks. “I want you.”

His hands drifted lower, exploring your chest and sending shivers down your spine. Sweat glistened on his skin, shimmering over his tattoos like glass catching light. The outline of his body blurred, your vision swimming as he crouched to your level. The look in his eyes stopped your breath.

“I want all of you. Body, mind, and soul. I will settle for nothing less,” he murmured.

And then his lips were on yours, smooth and gentle. Your heart hammered against your rib cage, stomach flipping as your eyes fluttered closed to revel in his flavor. This was an altogether different sort of kiss, leisurely and unhurried yet still deep and passionate. It left you reeling and breathless, craving another the moment he broke away.

“I’d also very much like to see you swallow every drop of my cum.”

Withholding the whimper of need his words summoned proved to be a challenge you couldn’t defeat, and his lips curled into a knowing smirk. Smug bastard, but two could play at that game.

“Well, we do need to finish your treatment,” you purred, fingers teasing at the fabric covering your chest.

His breathing hitched, Adam’s apple bobbing as you pulled the cloth away, your bra barely a heartbeat behind. You bit your lip and leaned forward, taking his saliva covered cock between your breasts. It was sheer decadence to stroke him, your hands dancing with your hardened peaks as they kept him in a tight hold.

V threw back his head and groaned as your lips joined in, tongue teasing at his ridge and slit in turn. Hints of a deeper, sweeter taste leaked onto your waiting taste buds, the promise of his seed making you light-headed.

Lithe fingers gripped your shoulders, tight enough to bruise. Emphatic curses and panted moans slid from his smooth lips, his snapping hips bucking wildly against your body. He tightened again, cock twitching against the roof of your mouth.

You pulled away and smirked at his frustrated groan.

“Accursed woman! D- don’t stop now!”

The chair beneath you creaked as you leaned back, lazily stretching your arms behind you. “Tell me what you want.”

His hands clenched, jaw tight with what could only be rage. Was this the face he showed his victims?

“I want to cum,” he muttered. “Please.”

Hahaha! There it is!

The superiority of victory crashed against your lust like waves on stone. You wanted to dance and shove it in his face that he, the mass murderer, was begging you to let him cum. Oh, how delicious it was to be in control. Just look at him, so desperate and needy he was willing to beg.

“I’ll allow it, since you asked so nicely,” you replied with a grin.

Before you even had time to blink, his swollen head barged past your teeth and deep into your throat, choking you without mercy. Hands wrapped around your neck and tugged at your hair, forcing you into the position he needed. Your own need was forgotten as he pumped against your face without mercy, giving you no chance to draw breath.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” growled the artist.

You moaned and caressed him with your tongue, wet heat encasing him as you pressed your nose into his stomach. The air stank of sex and sweat, whiskey and chicken. The muscles of your jaw screamed for a break but you denied them, putting all your focus on him.

He tightened once more, the grip of his hands refusing to let you withdraw this time. A guttural moan accompanied the first pulse of his release, his hips stuttering and thighs quaking. You didn’t stop, slurping and humming as his cum flooded your mouth. Rope after rope splattered against your throat, filling what little space he wasn’t occupying with his cock and dribbling from your lips to mix with your saliva on his length.

At last, his body relaxed. The last few drops of his euphoria tingled on your tongue as you slowly pulled away, pausing to lick any morsels left behind. It was a flavor you already wanted to taste again.

The room trembled and bucked as he stepped back, still panting in the wake of his pleasure. Your head was spinning, giddiness welling up in a flash. Damn, how much did you drink?

“My dear, dear doctor…”

You couldn’t help it; you cackled, snorting between peals of laughter. “Ha ha, do you- ha! Do you have insurance?”

The artist smirked and pushed the ebony strands away from his face. “I’m afraid not. Perhaps I can offer payment in another form?”

“Heh, I’m sure we can come to an agreement. Come to my office and we’ll discuss it,” you replied, then stood on wobbly legs and stepped toward the staircase, beckoning the artist to follow you. On the second step you paused to dispose of your pants, wiggling your ass a bit more than was strictly necessary. You couldn’t resist putting on a show. Clothes were a stupid idea, anyway.

The next thing you knew, tattooed arms wrapped around you and held you close, one large hand cupping your skull to keep it from hitting the staircase on your way down. Stairs were a stupid idea, too, come to think of it.

“Are you alright?” asked the artist.

Well. So much for putting on a show. Whatever, it didn’t matter. You shot him a grin and rose, dashing up the next few steps with a giggle. Tomorrow, you’d have to send Kotomi a thank you email for the whiskey. The woman had good taste.

The steps trembled under your feet; they weren’t supposed to do that.

“Here, let me help you,” murmured a silken voice.

“Pfft, I’m fine. C’mon,” was your response. You didn’t need help; it was just stairs. You could handle stairs.

Another few steps. The handrail was cool to the touch, but it gave the support you needed. Warm hands hovered behind you, a concerned pair of green eyes watching your every motion. Perhaps that was for the best, as the railing jumped out of your hand and left you off-balance once again.

“Damnit!” you cried, struggling to stay upright as the world shifted like the inside of a kaleidoscope. Color and light, shapes and shadows blended together as you fell, right back into a set of powerful arms.

“Got you, almost there.”

I know, I live here. Thirteen steps. I shouldn’t need help to climb thirteen steps!

---V---

At first it was rather enjoyable to see you indulge your every whim, but by the time the artist managed to get you upstairs the novelty had worn off. Four times, you fell. Four times, he caught you. It would’ve been easier to just carry you like a sack of potatoes.

“Smooth moves, Van Gogh!”

“Shut up, Griffon,” he replied to the blasted bird hovering overhead.

“Griffon? The way you draw him is so pretty,” you commented. “Pretty bird.”

“Hear that? I’m a pretty bird.”

V sighed and helped you to the bed, pausing to pull the blankets back. You lacked the coordination to do much more than collapse into the sheets with another giggle. He felt a slight mirth as well, a subtle tingle of intoxication, but you were obviously worse off.

“Soooo… where’s my payment?” you asked with a smirk.

As much as he craved the sounds you made in the museum, the artist paused. The two of you hadn’t discussed the parameters of your relationship, was it okay for him to make you writhe with ecstasy?

Do it. You know you want to.

He shook his head, casting aside the words. As much as he relied on Vergil for good counsel, the man didn’t place much value in other people. Not the most reliable source for guidance, in this situation. If only he had a canvas; painting always soothed his spirit.

“Why don’t I pay you tomorrow? For now, you should rest,” he finally said.

A petulant frown was his response, but you didn’t resist as he urged you to lie down properly. Your hair was loose, splayed out across the pillow like a splash of blood. “Don’t think you’re getting out of it, okay?”

His fingers itched to plunge inside you, stretch you open and drown in your fluids. The way you’d moan his name, the way your body quivered under his attentions… Quite tempting. He longed to see you wrecked and incoherent, destroyed so that you could at last see the truth.

But not tonight.

“I won’t forget. I promise.”

Satisfied for now, you closed your eyes and snuggled deeper into the blankets, nuzzling the pillows. Someday soon, you would nuzzle his chest instead as he held you, talking quietly about his next piece.

Soon.

The ebony-haired killer stayed by your side until soft snores filled the silence. He reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear with a soft smile. “Hmm, you really are a lightweight, aren’t you?

---------

Kotomi Ishida wrung her hands outside her boss’ office. This was a terrible idea, she should just walk away and get back to updating her patient’s files. Pretend nothing was wrong.

Pretend she hadn’t put her own career above that of her best friend.

It’s all my fault. I should never have accepted this job.

By all rights, she didn’t belong here. The patients terrified her, she hated the commute, the hours sucked and she had no one to talk to since Waras’ suspension. Maybe her mother was right, maybe the psychiatric field wasn’t a good fit for her.

If only Waras was here. She was such a good listener and always had the best advice. No doubt she’d have a genius way of phrasing things that would make it all fall into place and help her figure out what she was supposed to do.

I miss her…

Kotomi sighed and forced her hands to relax. It wouldn't do to say nothing. The guilt was crushing her, a weight heavier than anything she’d ever known squeezing her heart. She had to at least try to make things right.

Her slim hand rapped against the barely open door, her voice a diminutive whisper. “Dr. Malphas? May I speak with you?”

“Of course, come in,” he replied.

The young woman gathered what little courage she possessed and entered, softly clicking the door closed behind her before taking a seat. Once, her boss’s office felt like a safe haven. A place to escape the horrible people she was responsible for helping. Today, it was a prison.

“Dr. Ishida, what a pleasant surprise! What can I do for you?”

She took a deep breath. “I need to tell you about the day of the fire.”

~~~~Next Chapter~~~~

#fanfiction #fanfic #My writing #Be My Nightmare #spicy #v x reader #DMCV #DMC #devil may cry #reader insert #Self Insert

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playquiz · 4 years

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Life without COFFEE

Although I am not one of those people who find themselves unable to work in the morning without daily caffeine intake,

I love the warm kind that makes me feel the happiness that coffee provides me. Life is full of delicate pleasures, as I like to call it, and coffee is one of my countries. However, as I write this, I am about to start my (fourth) experience "A Month Without Coffee". Well, it's not a big experiment, but it's more of a "habit" control. I used to drink up to six cups a day in January, and for me, this is too much. People just say, drink less. No need to give it up completely. Why are you doing that? She loves coffee. I love coffee. I love coffee! It is not bad advice. When giving up caffeine, or any other addictive substance, it is advised to reduce it gradually rather than absolutely nothing to minimize withdrawal symptoms... but I can't do that. I am not an "admin". All or nothing, I find it easier this way. So I'm going to go from six cups today, to zero tomorrow, and that's how you'll stay for the next 28 days. I think you can change your habits by knowing what drives your behavior. Take a few seconds to ask yourself why you're about to drink something. You always have a reason why you should make the choices you make, and when you drink a lot throughout the day, paying attention to whether this reason is productive or unproductive for your health is worth doing. I think of 4 reasons why I chose to choose coffee. Socially (Meet a friend for coffee) - For warmth - For strategic reasons (just before training) - For fun (I just love coffee time) I am sure you have other reasons to add it. "Addict" was not shown on my list, as I do not think I am "addicted" or "dependent" on coffee, or anything else in this regard. I think another reason to give up is not only due to serious health considerations, but also to prove to myself that coffee is not controlling me, I choose to drink it, and it can stop at any time. All I have to do is replace my coffee with a drink that rewards me in the same way, and this is much better for my health. Another way to control what you drink is to look for signs that make you choose: a specific time of day (such as morning), a particular place (such as Starbucks), when you are with certain people (for example your co-workers), or emotion (such as feeling tired) ), Or ritual behavior (such as waking up with coffee). Caffeine cut, but not ritual! Delicious alternatives that I will share with my caffeine habit: Lemon Juice and Warm Water: Warm water and lemon help detoxify the liver and kidneys from caffeine and the overload of coffee caused by the system. Herbal Tea (Caffeine Free): Peppermint is a stimulant, good for digestion while chamomile is soothing, good for stress and migraine headaches. Root tea: Licorice is useful to support the kidneys in times of stress and is a natural stimulant and ginger that helps mild headaches and digestion, as it is naturally stimulating. What happened the last time you did this? My memories were of the first few days of a very severe headache that peaked from day two to day four. After that, it was easy, and even when the 30 days were up, I didn't know if I wanted coffee or not. I found alternatives that are now part of my daily nutrition and have seen no rush to come back. But since I had never intended to give up coffee completely, slowly but surely, I crept into my work routine. Some days it was three, four others, five or six, depending on my location. Caffeine, like any drug that has different effects on different people, as I discovered, is linked to specific genes. Common symptoms are irritation, dehydration, fatigue, muscle tension, nausea, constipation, and lack of focus. Reducing withdrawal caffeine weakens adrenal, and liver functions and the acidic effect of coffee on the system can gradually deplete the body's general ability to flush out toxins and maintain an appropriate acid balance. By getting rid of caffeine, your body will start doing this to remove accumulated toxins and restore adrenal and liver functions. We have many things you can do to help support your system and help detoxify, as well as reduce drag systems. Lifestyle changes to the caffeine vitamin Drink plenty of water, at least 9 cups per day. Get plenty of good sleep. You are playing sports. I will help you detoxify and give you more energy naturally. Steam baths, leather brushes, and English salt baths help pull toxins through the skin. Nutrient foods: Eat foods rich in whole nutrients - fruits, vegetables, legumes, proteins, healthy fats, and grains rich in fiber. Fiber helps transfer toxins from your body and will stabilize the digestion process, which can be disrupted when caffeine is removed. Fruits and vegetables will help reduce the impact of acidifying coffee on the body, and will also help flush toxins out of your system. Avoid processed foods, sugars, and salt as they will cause your body to retain fluids. Add additional fiber supplements, such as flax, chia, or psyllium husk, to help detoxify the liver, kidneys, and intestines. Maca: It is a natural source of amino acids, essential fatty acids, vitamins and carbohydrates, and helps your body produce energy naturally, without any side effects from adrenal drainage. Add juices or sweets or stir in porridge or milk. Spirulina: a powerful microalga that removes toxins and is a good source of natural energy. It provides many essential nutrients and rare minerals to support your system, and it is surprisingly rich in protein. Add to green juices or in tablet form. Supplements when giving up caffeine (and adrenal gland) The liver is responsible for breaking down caffeine from the body. It is advisable to take a dietary supplement to assist it during this detoxing process. These include: Milk thistle magnesium Calcium Potassium zinc B vitamins Vitamin C So, because it seems, the foremost of the items I like to recommend to attenuate the effect of withdrawal symptoms, I do daily anyway, so apart from the standard behavior, I expect it to be relatively painless. The next question was, why? If I like coffee such a lot, why did you spend 28 days without it? In any case, the superb coffee for you... or is it? Yes and No. Thousands of studies need to be conducted on the consequences of caffeine over the past fifty years, one against another. The consensus seems to be that moderate (high-quality) coffee consumption is often more beneficial in many health indicators than none in the least. But what's "moderate". Again, the research varies counting on what you read, but the range appears to be between 300-400 mg of caffeine, as a maximum per day. It equates to 3 to four cups of coffee (depending on strength and size). Other reports recommend a maximum of two. As I said earlier, caffeine has different effects on different people, so it's difficult to answer. While I drank up to 6 each day and drank caffeine from other things, albeit in small amounts (from dark chocolate), it had been time to rest my body. The dangers of excessive caffeine in your system Calcium Caffeine causes calcium to be excreted within the urine and feces. For each 150 mg of ingested caffeine, approximately 5 mg of calcium is lost in one cup of coffee. This effect occurs even hours after consuming caffeine. Caffeine also blocks the quantity of calcium that's absorbed through the intestine and drains the amount kept by the bones. Tons of studies have shown that ladies who consume a better amount of caffeine have more hip fractures than those that avoid caffeine or drink moderately (1 to 2 cups per day). Vitamin D Caffeine blocks vitamin D receptors that limit the quantity which will be absorbed. Because vitamin D is essential in absorbing and using calcium in bone building, this will also reduce bone mineral density, which results in an increased risk of osteoporosis. iron As everyone knows, caffeine interferes with the absorption of iron from the body, which is essential for the assembly of red blood cells—drinking caffeine at an equivalent time because the iron source can reduce intake by up to 80%. Any caffeinated drink must be separated from iron-containing foods or supplements for a minimum of one hour. B vitamins As is understood, caffeine features a mild diuretic effect, which increases urination. Water-soluble vitamins, like B vitamins, are often depleted as a result of fluid loss. Additionally, it interferes with the metabolism of some B vitamins, like thiamine (Vitamin B1). The sole exception to the present rule seems to possess vitamin B12. It plays the catalyst role for caffeine to supply stomach acid, which helps the body absorb vitamin B12. Vitamins and other minerals All Vitamins and minerals are essential nutrients for normal cell function. Since it must be absorbed from the bloodstream to be effective, anything that impedes this process can cause the body to not getting enough nutrients. Caffeine can reduce the absorption of manganese, zinc, and copper. It also can increase the secretion of magnesium and potassium, sodium and phosphate minerals. There's also some evidence that caffeine interferes with the action of vitamin A. Your skin looks older. Skin needs tons of water to seem plump and glowing. But coffee may be a diuretic, which inspires your body to flush out water. If you drink tons of coffee, your skin may look dehydrated. If you flood your body with caffeine, this suggests that your systema nervosum has entered into an endless state of artificial stimulation. Therefore the skin is your largest organ and wishes oxygen-rich blood. When the body is in tension, it responds by directing the foremost oxygenated blood towards the guts and lungs. Therefore the skin isn't well-nourished. The systema lymphaticum, which removes waste, also doesn't function efficiently, leaving the skin slow and susceptible to burst. Cellulite Coffee can even be utilized in many anti-cellulite creams - applied to the skin from the surface, and toxins stored in fat cells are allegedly extracted to scale back cellulite - but this doesn't mean that drinking it'll have an equivalent positive effect. Coffee-induced dehydration encourages the skin to congest and solidify and to make a dense network that results in cellulite. Feel bad breath Like alcohol, coffee dries your mouth, and as a result, the quantity of saliva that rinses your mouth and fights bacteria decreases. We All Know that Caffeine can turn yellow teeth just like the same way as nicotine roll in the hay from cigarettes as coffee contains tannins, which are plant compounds that give coffee flavor. Coffee is extremely acidic, which over time can break down the enamel on the surface of the teeth. Diuretic effect You can't drink quite three cups of coffee each day features a diuretic effect on the body, because it interferes with the hormones that regulate our water balance. It leaves us dried and makes the urine more concentrated and acidic, which results in inflammation of the bladder walls and even results in painful urination and cystitis. Keep in mind that it takes five to 12 hours for the body to urge obviate caffeine, and once you sleep within the bed, you'll still be unable to sleep. Once washed away, coffee makes sleeping lighter and more annoying. It's because caffeine interferes with the assembly of melatonin, which helps us sleep. Every day is bad for the hair. Caffeine has been found to flush out vital minerals, including those needed for healthy hair growth, outside the body. Our body needs an honest supply of some vitamins and minerals for a reasonable condition of hair and pigmentation, including biotin, selenium, zinc, and copper. If we consume tons of coffee, this may affect our metal stores, which can hurt the condition of hair, including luster and texture. Metal loss may cause hair loss and premature greying. One of the most reasons for pre-menopausal hair loss is low iron levels and occasionally affects their absorption. Copper is believed to contribute to hair pigmentation so that any deficiency may cause premature greying. Insulin sensitivity decreases Regular consumption of caffeine reduces insulin sensitivity, making it difficult for your cells to reply appropriately to blood glucose. High blood glucose levels cause arterial degeneration and an increased risk of disorder. The acidity of coffee Coffee acidity is related to digestive discomfort, indigestion, heartburn, and intestinal disorders. addiction Addiction is usually a drag with coffee drinkers and makes it difficult to believe the body's natural energy source. Low levels of serotonin A component of the neurotransmitter serotonin referred to as the happy chemical present within the urine tends to be high in coffee drinkers, which suggests they'll be in danger of low levels of serotonin synthesis within the brain. Serotonin is essential for healthy sleep, bowel function, mood, and energy levels. It's a vicious circle because caffeine can disrupt sleep and promote anxiety and depression. We all know someone who tends to urge tired, wired and quit caffeine! Lots of reasons to chop back, or in my case, you've got an opportunity from caffeine altogether. It's essential to notice that a lot of the issues mentioned above relate to excessive caffeine consumption. I've also read tons of research on how moderate amounts can benefit our health and more if you drink at strategic times throughout the day. It's been linked to a lower risk of affected by Alzheimer's and paralysis agitans, for instance. Can you hand over your coffee? If you think that you cannot hand over coffee, re-evaluate. It's only a wise experience to understand what it seems like to measure your life on your fuel. Safely remove coffee and caffeine from your system and see how you handle the high energy! It'll not kill you. Sometimes we hold close our vices so severely that we convince ourselves that life would be miserable without them. For the first few days, I admit, I miss the smell and taste of my coffee, especially the first day of the day but these feelings soon disappear, and that I have gained a replacement appreciation for herb tea and roots. Remember that we control our habits. Getting something may be a big lesson in breaking addictions and forming new habits. You'll convince yourself that you directly are managing, and you'll choose and stick with it. This is often something you'll know.

#life without coffee #cookie a day #coffee #coffetime #coffiecup

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sceptilemasterr · 5 years

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Catalysts Play Open Heart: Chapter 6

Summary: Varyyn takes a request a bit too literally, and Raj and Craig discuss Guinness World Records, and Aleister debates Batman-related grammar with Diego.

Previous Chapter: Link

Note: The things in bold are scenes from the actual Choices chapter. Ian (x Estela) and Alyssa (x Jake) are my twin Endless Summer MCs.

Warnings: Alcohol use, swearing.

“No. No, no, no. We’ve spent enough time chasing after Furball as it is!” argued Michelle. “We all know he can handle himself, anyway.”

Quinn pouted. “But… what if he gets lost? What if he can’t find his way back?”

Michelle shook her head. “I’m not worried. He’s always managed to find us no matter how far apart we ended up. Have a little faith in the blue guy!”

“Purple guy now, actually,” Alyssa reminded them. “And, honestly, Quinn, I agree with Michelle. Furball will turn up again. Promise.”

“Thanks. See, even Alyssa agrees!”

Quinn huffed and crossed her arms. “Aww… fine. I just hope he’s okay.”

“If it would help, I could send a message to Elyys’tel, asking them to be on the lookout for Furball,” offered Varyyn.

“Sure, that’s better than nothing, at least. Thanks, Varyyn,” said Quinn.

Varyyn nodded and got up to head outside. How exactly he was going to send a message to Elyys’tel from the Celestial, no one was quite sure, but nobody really wanted to ask. After a momentary awkward silence, Michelle shrugged and stood up. “Well, if there’s nothing else… should we go ahead and start?”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Varyyn to get back?” asked Sean.

Diego nodded. “Thanks, Sean. I mean, it can’t take him very long…”

The next morning, the doors to the lobby slid open and Varyyn sprinted inside, panting heavily. “The message has been passed!” he announced. Then he paused, looking around and realizing that the Catalysts were all very sound asleep. “...Hello?”

Jake and Alyssa lay side-by-side in a pair of armchairs, their hands resting close enough to each other that they had probably fallen asleep holding hands. Sean was curled up in one corner of a couch, leaving the rest of the couch for Zahra, sprawled out along its length. On the floor next to her was Craig, sleeping with his face on the floor and his butt in the air, which looked uncomfortable but apparently he didn’t mind. Michelle and Quinn had fallen asleep leaning against each other, on the loveseat near the projector. Raj lay in his recliner, which he apparently hadn’t moved from in six hours. Aleister and Grace lay on the floor, Aleister sleeping perfectly still with Grace draped over his chest. Diego was curled up in a large pile of pillows in the center of the circle. Only Estela and Ian were missing, but Varyyn didn’t notice their absence right away.

At the sound of Varyyn’s voice, Diego stirred, pushing himself up out of the nest of pillows he’d made for himself. “Huh?” he asked groggily, blinking sleep from his eyes. “Oh! Varyyn! How long was I asleep?”

“I do not know, Diego,” said Varyyn, crossing over to sit next to his husband. “I only just returned from the village.

“From the village… wait, you mean you ran all the way back to Elyys’tel?! By yourself?”

“Well, yes,” Varyyn said simply. “How else was I to give the message to the village?”

Diego shook his head incredulously. “Varyyn…” he sighed.

“Who’s there?” asked Estela suddenly, walking in from the kitchen with Ian. “Oh. Varyyn, you’re back!”

Slowly but surely, the rest of the Catalysts started to wake up, one by one. “...Mornin’,” said Jake, staggering to his feet. “Varyyn? Where the hell were you?”

“I ran to Elyys’tel and back, as I had said that I would,” he explained.

Craig pushed himself up, leaving a large head-shaped indentation in the carpet where his face had been. “Whoa, Varyyn’s back! About time! Does this mean we can keep going with the story now?”

“Geez, Craig, give us some time,” groaned Zahra. “With this hangover? I’m not starting anything ‘till I’ve had my coffee.”

“Just make sure it’s not that Rourke Ultra-Energy nonsense again,” said Alyssa.

Everyone laughed. “Guess that’s my cue,” said Raj, pushing himself out of his chair. “One pot of normal coffee, coming right up! And some breakfast, while I’m at it. Sounds good?”

“Hell yeah, Raj!”

“You’re the best, man. Thanks so much!” said Sean with a smile.

Quinn got to her feet, being careful not to disturb Michelle, who was somehow still sleeping. “Need any help, Raj?” she asked.

Raj grinned broadly. “You know it!” he exclaimed as the two of them headed into the kitchen.

A short while later, once everyone had been well-fed, well-caffeinated, and (more or less) starting to recover from their hangovers, Quinn and Michelle returned to the projector to try to connect Quinn’s phone back to the screen. The operative word, of course, being “try.”

After several long minutes of everyone waiting expectantly while Quinn and Michelle struggled with the tangled mess of wires, Zahra stood up with an incredibly melodramatic sigh. “Goddammit, just… let me handle this,” she announced, stomping over to the projector. Quinn and Michelle backed away as Zahra knelt down to look at the wires. “Holy shit, what the hell did you even do?!” she demanded.

“Connected… the wires?” said Quinn innocently.

“That is not how you… holy hell, this does not go there… are you trying to make this thing explode?!”

“That would be AWESOME!” exclaimed Craig.

Zahra glared at him. “No, it wouldn’t. Now, would you all shut the hell up?” Everyone hurriedly complied, and there were several awkward moments of silence as Zahra disconnected and reconnected all of the wires in the jury-rigged projector setup. At long last, she sighed, stepped back, and flipped the projector on.

“Hell yeah! Go, Z!” shouted Craig.

Zahra smirked but said nothing as she sat down next to him. Quinn shrugged and picked up her phone, loading the Choices app. “Alright, let’s get this thing started!” said Raj excitedly as the loading screen appeared.

“Hope the competition actually starts in this chapter,” said Diego, leaning forward in his seat. “Last chapter was fun, but I’m kinda getting impatient!”

“Agreed, I’m ready to do this!” said Michelle. Finally, the app finished loading, and Quinn handed her phone off to Michelle, who began the next chapter.

Open Heart: Chapter 6

Housewarming

“That music does not fit that title at all,” Diego commented.

“Agreed. Can we get the happy title music back?” asked Alyssa. “At least that other music we could dance to…”

Nurse: Dr. Nguyen! Your post-op patient is in distress!

“That explains the music, at least,” said Michelle.

“Have we skipped something?” asked Aleister, bewildered. “This is the correct chapter, right?”

“I don’t think it even lets you skip chapters,” Jake pointed out. “‘Sides, didn’t realize you cared so much.”

“I do not! I… I just… er…”

Grace giggled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You’re having fun with this, too,” she teased. “Admit it!” While Aleister continued to protest, Michelle continued reading through the story.

MC!Michelle: What happened? I saw her two minutes ago and she was fine!

Nurse: She can’t breathe! She has fluid in her lungs!

Nurse 2: Her heart’s in atrial fibrillation! Rate’s pushing 160!

Nurse: Her B.P.’s crashing. She’s hypotensive!

“Already with the sciencey words? It’s too early for that,” said Craig. “I’m confused.”

“Honestly, Craig? I’m confused too. What a weird start after the way the last chapter ended,” Michelle told him.

“Maybe it’s a dream?” suggested Sean. “Or just a weird time skip?”

“Who knows?” asked Ian.

“You know what they say, only one way to find out!” said Raj. “Let’s keep going! And hopefully save the patient.”

Nurse 2: What do you want to do, Doctor?

What do you use?

Jake shrugged at the choices that appeared. “Yup. This one’s ALL you, Doc.”

“...Is that an ice pick at the bottom?” asked Craig.

Michelle shook her head, laughing. “No, but now that you mention it… a laryngoscope does kinda look like an ice pick…”

“Seriously? Whoa, I was right!”

“...You really weren’t,” snarked Zahra.

Michelle stared at the screen, pondering the choices. “I feel like each of these would fix a different one of the patient’s symptoms,” she muttered to herself, “so… in an emergency, always secure the airway first…” She nodded and selected “A breathing tube!”, or, as Craig referred to it, the ‘ice pick.’

The next morning…

Landry: Michelle? Are you listening?

MC!Michelle: Sorry, Landry. I got… distracted.

“So… did that actually happen, or were you daydreaming?” asked a still-confused Diego.

“I’m still not sure,” Michelle admitted.

“This chapter’s confusing as hell,” complained Jake. “I need a drink.”

“Wouldn’t that just make the confusion worse?” asked Alyssa.

“Dammit, Princess, you’re probably right.”

“Aren’t I always?”

Landry: Still thinking about that patient from last night?

“Huh. Mystery solved,” Estela observed. “You all need to have some patience.”

“Wait, did Estela just make a pun?!” asked Raj, shocked. “Call the press! It’s the apocalypse!”

“That was completely unintentional,” said Estela.

“Well, I thought it was pretty funny. Ever thought of being a comedian?” teased Alyssa.

Estela averted her gaze as the story continued, but from his angle, Ian could see her trying and failing not to smile. He raised an eyebrow, and she shot him an amused glance that only he could see.

Sienna: She survived.

“Oh, good,” said Diego. “I was getting nervous.”

“After what happened with Dolores, I think we’re all a little on edge whenever there’s a patient issue in this story,” Sean said.

MC!Michelle: But when a million bad things happen at once, I panic. I can’t handle when everything’s spiraling out of control.

“Amen to that,” said Quinn. “Who wouldn’t panic?”

“Myself, for one,” Aleister replied. “I pride myself on staying perfectly in control of my emotions at all times...” While Aleister was talking, Jake picked up a piece of pancake that had fallen on the ground and chucked it at Aleister’s ear. “AIYEEEE!” shrieked Aleister in an incredibly high-pitched voice, falling out of his chair and landing with a thud on his rear.

“...You were sayin’?” smirked Jake as the rest of the group burst into laughter.

Aleister, flustered, stammered a bit before halfheartedly chuckling. “I admit I… have my moments of weakness…” he admitted.

“Hey, that’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Sean reassured him. “We’re all only human.”

“Most of us are, at any rate,” Aleister corrected him, looking at the twins.

“Shut up,” laughed Alyssa, tossing another piece of pancake at Aleister’s face. This time, the pancake piece sailed right over his head.

“Hey, if you’re gonna chuck food around, chuck it at me!” said Craig. “So I can eat it!” He held his mouth open for emphasis.

“Ugh, Craig, that stuff was on the floor,” Zahra complained.

“So? Five-second rule!”

“It’s been a hell of a lot more than five seconds since breakfast.”

“...Five-hour rule?”

Zahra made a disgusted face. “That’s seriously not a thing.”

“Alright, Michelle, this conversation is getting gross,” said Grace. “Can we please keep going?”

“Thank you, Grace,” said Aleister as Michelle obliged.

MC!Michelle: You’re right.

Landry: I don’t want to brag. But, statistically speaking, I usually am.

“...Why does that sound like an Aleister line?” asked Zahra.

“Damn, you’re right!” laughed Alyssa. “Aleister, read it!”

“I… what?”

“Read Landry’s line out loud!” said Raj, chiming in. “Come on!”

“This is absurd.”

“I think you mean ‘hilarious,’” said Jake. “Do it!”

Aleister sighed. “If it will make you all shut up… very well. ‘I don’t want to brag. But, statistically speaking, I usually am.’”

Everyone laughed and applauded at the same time. “Oh, man, that was perfect,” Raj said. “It’s a little early for drinking, so… coffee toast?”

“Why not?” agreed Jake, raising his coffee mug as everyone else did the same. Aleister looked around at the others, utterly confused before shaking his head and exchanging a glance with Grace.

“It’s okay. I don’t get it either,” she admitted.

MC!Michelle: Wow. It looks like everyone signed up for the competition.

“So I was literally the only person there who didn’t sign up until the last minute?” complained Michelle. “Seriously?”

“Hey, at least you’re in!” said Diego. “That’s what matters, right?”

“I guess so,” Michelle admitted.

Jackie: Only a complete jackass would pass that up.

MC!Michelle: Thanks for that, Jackie.

“Alright, Zahra, fair is fair,” said Michelle, laughing. “Your turn.”

“Great, is this a ‘thing’ we’re doing now?” she asked.

“To be fair, you started it,” Craig reminded her.

“‘Only a complete jackass would pass that up,’” quoted Zahra after a brief hesitation. “There. I said it. Happy?”

“Can Zahra just read all of Jackie’s lines from now on?” suggested Diego. “That was perfect!”

“Sure, if she wants,” said Michelle. “Zahra?”

Zahra sighed. “Sure, why the hell not,” she decided.

Elijah: How about this? Whoever’s ranked lowest has to pick up the keg for tonight’s housewarming party?

Jackie: I like the way you think.

“Alright, now we’re talkin’!” yelled Craig. “Party time!”

“Sure took ‘em long enough,” said Jake. “It’s been… how many chapters since we got the apartment?”

“Better late than never, right? Besides, you gotta wait to do the party properly,” Raj said.

“I just hope they don’t make us wait through another filler chapter like last time,” said Diego. “Once was okay, but they keep teasing us with things.”

“Remember the title, though?” Ian reminded him.

Diego’s eyes lit up. “Oh yeah! You’re right, it’s gotta be in this chapter then!”

Landry: You guys, our place is nice, but it’s not that big! We’ve gotta keep it small!

MC!Michelle: Landry…

“Chill out!” said Craig when the choices appeared. “I vote ‘Chill out!’”

“...We are actually voting, then, right?” asked Aleister. “About time.”

“As much as I think Landry has a point, I get the feeling ‘Chill out’ is gonna win anyway,” Sean admitted.

Sure enough, when Aleister took the vote, ‘Chill out’ won 10-4. “Yeah!” exclaimed Craig, high-fiving Raj.

Dr. Ines: Oh, are you talking about your housewarming tonight? I can’t wait!

“Wait, we invited her, too?” asked Michelle, surprised. “Elijah wasn’t kidding when he said ‘everybody.’”

“I like her!” said Quinn. “She’s so nice!”

“Can you imagine if she brought Dr. Zaid, though?” suggested Raj.

Everyone laughed at the mental image.

Dr. Ines: I was actually just on my way to tell Zaid about it. You don’t mind, right?

MC!Michelle: You want to bring Dr. Mirani?

“Wow, we called that one!” said Diego.

“I can’t even picture him at a party,” Michelle commented. “Like, ever.”

“He and Dr. Ramsey should have a grumpiness contest,’” suggested Raj. “Loser has to be nice to everyone for a week.”

“That would be pretty funny, actually,” Michelle admitted. “So, what should we say?”

“I say we invite him,” said Zahra. “Just because he’d be hilariously awkward. Who agrees?”

Raj, Craig, Diego, Michelle, Jake, Estela, and the twins all voted along with her. Aleister sighed. “I suppose majority rules, in this case,” he said as Michelle selected the option.

Dr. Ines: But he’s loads of fun at parties.

MC!Michelle: We look forward to seeing that.

“Whoa. Plot twist!” exclaimed Diego.

“I am SO glad we invited him now,” laughed Craig. “This is gonna be AMAZING.”

“That’s for sure!” agreed Alyssa, air-fiving him.

Sienna: Is it just me, or is he even grumpier than usual?

MC!Michelle: He’s probably…

“I feel like he’d have to defy several laws of physics to be “grumpier than usual,” said Ian.

“You’re not wrong there,” agreed Raj as everyone dissolved into laughter.

“I’d say he’s annoyed about having to pick an intern,” suggested Grace. “Who else agrees?”

Michelle nodded as she, Sean, Jake, Alyssa, Aleister, and Diego all raised their hands to vote along with Grace. “Okay, who likes ‘Got something else on his mind?’” Ian, Estela, Quinn, Zahra, Craig, and Raj raised their hands. When she counted up the votes, Grace frowned. “Aww… well, guess we’ll go with the majority,” she said, dejected.

“It is quite alright, Grace,” Aleister reassured her. “Such is the nature of leaving decisions to the whims of the majority.”

In spite of herself, Grace smiled. “You always know just what to say.”

“What? It is simply a fact.”

Dr. Ramsey’s List: Read it.

“Drink, y’all!” said Jake reflexively. Then he remembered that no one was drinking any alcohol this time, due to how early it was. “Uh… drink coffee? …Y’all?”

Everyone shrugged. “Sure, why not,” said Zahra, taking a gulp of her coffee as everyone else followed suit.

Elijah: Nineteen? Looks like you’re on keg duty, Michelle!

“What? Seriously?!” demanded Michelle. “That’s not even fair!”

“Yeah, we didn’t even get a chance to do anything yet!” agreed Quinn. “I hope Dr. Ramsey isn’t just deducting us for being late!”

“Talk about bullshit,” said Jake.

MC!Michelle: I’m number nineteen?

Everyone laughed as the choices came up. “Well, looks like we all know what Jake’s voting for,” said Alyssa. “Though, gotta admit, I’m picking the same.”

“I think we all agree with ‘that’s bull,’” said Estela. “Right?”

Everyone mumbled a bit, and eventually all raised their hands to agree with Estela. “Alright, that was easy,” commented Michelle as she picked the ‘that’s bull’ option.

You follow Ethan down a hall adjoining a new wing of the hospital, still under construction.

“Uh, what’s with the weird music?” asked Diego.

“Dunno,” said Ian, shrugging. “Hope everything’s okay…”

MC!Michelle: You’re… not going to berate me?

“Whoa, plot twist again!” exclaimed Raj.

“Guess there really is something else on his mind,” Michelle observed. “Wonder what it is.”

“Only one way to find out!” said Diego.

Dr. Ramsey: Now get back to your patients. Doctors shouldn’t be anywhere near the construction.

“Uh… hypocrite, much?” said Grace.

“What does a ‘hippo crate’ have to do with anything?” asked Craig, confused.

Aleister sighed. “Not ‘hippo crate,’ hypocrite,” he explained. “As should be quite obvious.”

“Oh. Right. Got it,” said Craig, clearly not understanding at all.

MC!Michelle: Wait… one more thing. (What do I do?)

“Wow… there’s an actual choice called ‘Suck up?’” said Zahra. “I kinda want to pick it just because.”

“Aw, but Z, imagine how funny it would be if we invited him to the party!” argued Craig. “How else can we have a ‘grump-off’ between him and the other guy?”

“Professionalism, guys, come on,” protested Michelle. “‘Promise to do better next time’ is clearly the best option!”

“For once, I agree with Michelle,” said Aleister.

“But Dr. Ramsey at the party? Talk about hilariously awkward,” said Raj. “Pick it, pick it!”

“Are we going to blabber all day, or shall we VOTE?!” demanded Aleister through his megaphone as everyone started talking at once. The room instantly went silent. “That is much better. Now then, all in favor of the first choice?” Raj, Craig, Alyssa, and Jake all raised their hands for ‘Invite him to the party.’ “And the second option?” This time, Michelle, Quinn, Ian, Estela, Aleister, Grace, and Sean raised their hands. “Very well. Final choice?” Zahra and Diego raised their hands. Zahra scowled when she realized how outnumbered they were. “There you are,” said Aleister. “We have our answer.”

“Thanks, Aleister,” said Michelle, selecting ‘Promise to do better next time.’

Dr. Ramsey: Radiology just got a new f.M.R.I. machine, but they haven’t tested it out yet. I’m growing impatient.

“Freakin’ Monkeys… Running… uh, Internets!” suggested Craig.

“...‘Internets?’ Plural?” asked Zahra incredulously. “Yeah, no.”

“Aww, but I was close, right?”

Michelle shook her head. “Not at all. Try ‘Functional MRI.’”

“Wait a moment, that is utterly unfair!” protested Aleister. “You cannot answer an acronym with another acronym! Be reasonable!”

“Uh, what’s an acronym?” asked Craig.

Zahra slapped him. “The letter things you’ve been guessing for the last six chapters!”

“Oh. Right. I knew that!”

Michelle rolled her eyes. “Fine. ‘Functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging.’ Happy now?”

“Yes, actually,” said Aleister.

Help Ethan test the machine?

“Oh, come on, it costs diamonds?!” yelled Zahra when the diamond choice appeared.

“To be fair, I kinda saw that coming,” Quinn said.

“True,” agreed Michelle. “So are we doing it, or no?”

Alyssa shrugged. “If you want to, but this is only the first diamond choice in the chapter,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, good point,” Jake agreed.

“Okay, then, let’s vote?” suggested Michelle. No one voted for the choice, realizing that there might be better choices later. “Wow. That was easy.”

Dr. Ramsey: Of course. I shouldn’t be asking interns anyway. I do need functioning brains for this to work, after all…

“Ooh! Sick burn!” said Craig.

“Alright, that was pretty funny,” admitted Zahra. “Who knew he had a sense of humor?”

The patient’s awake, typing furiously into a laptop as she argues vociferously into her Bluetooth earpiece.

“Sorry, but what does ‘vocif… whatever’ mean?” asked Alyssa.

“‘Vociferously?’ It means loud and forcefully,’” explained Grace.

“Thanks,” said Alyssa, smiling gratefully at her friend.

Mrs. Turner: I’m a little sore in the throat and around my operation scars, but otherwise fine.

“With how much she was talking? No shit her throat is sore,” snarked Zahra.

Mrs. Turner: It’s okay. I might be a lawyer but I’m not going to sue you for being honest.

MC!Michelle: Mrs. Turner…

“Hang on… is she the patient from the beginning flashback?” asked Jake. “Because that would make a lot of sense.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she is,” said Michelle.

“Ohhhhhhh,” said Raj as the realization dawned on him.

“So, uh, what do we choose?” Michelle asked the group.

There was a momentary awkward silence. “I mean… both of these seem like good choices,” said Diego.

“Yeah, I’m honestly good with either one,” said Alyssa. “Who wants to vote?”

Everyone just sort of stared at the projector screen for a few minutes. After a long, drawn-out silence, Estela sighed and stood up, scowling. “If no one wants to choose… I would say ‘I’ll be ready next time,’” she said.

“I mean, uh, sure?” said Jake.

“What the hell,” sighed Zahra. “Sure.”

After a quick glance around at the rest of the group, Michelle went ahead and selected Estela’s choice when no one else objected.

Mrs. Turner: I have a great team behind me, and I’m damn good at telling them what to do.

“I like her already,” said Zahra.

MC!Michelle: That sounds…

“‘Easy enough,’ certainly,” said Aleister when the choices appeared. “Delegation is essential to running any business. ...Er, or rather, hospital, in this case.”

“You’ve got a point,” admitted Michelle. “I can imagine that trying to do everything myself would just cause more problems for the patient.”

Grace nodded. “If you let yourself get too stressed and overworked, you won’t be able to help anyone. I learned that the hard way.”

“Alright, are we votin’ or what?” asked Jake. “I mean, I’m fine with Malfoy’s answer.”

“You want to do the vote, Jake?” asked Michelle.

“Wait, what? Nah, I didn’t mean-”

“Jake! Jake! Jake!” chanted Alyssa. “Do it!”

Jake made a face at his wife, but sighed and took the vote anyway. “Alright, who wants to say ‘Easy enough?’” He, Aleister, Grace, Alyssa, Michelle, Zahra, and Craig all raised their hands. “...And ‘kinda bossy?’” Ian, Estela, Quinn, Raj, Sean, and Diego raised their hands. “Alright, looks like ‘easy enough’ wins.”

“There, was that so hard?” asked Alyssa.

“Yes.”

Finally, after your long shift, you lug the beer keg to your apartment…

“YES! PAR-TY! PAR-TY! PAR-TY!” chanted Craig, as Zahra pulled out her earmuffs and jammed them over her ears.

“Hell yeah! PAR-TY! PAR-TY! PAR-TY!” Raj joined in.

“This should be fun!” said Diego excitedly. “So glad they’re actually doing the party in this chapter!”

Music thumps from Elijah’s speakers while everyone dances and plays drinking games.

“Nice,” said Jake appreciatively.

“I’m glad we got the bigger apartment now,” said Quinn. “Even if we did have to pass up a Bryce scene for that.”

“On the bright side, maybe there’ll be a scene with him at the party!” suggested Diego. “And we saved our diamonds this chapter, so…”

“I hope you’re right!” said Quinn, her eyes lighting up.

Dr. Zaid: This is really great, Nguyen. I’m loving the party.

MC!Michelle: I… can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic.

“Neither can I,” admitted Zahra. “And I’m the queen of sarcasm.”

“Wait… was THAT sarcasm too?” asked Craig.

Zahra smirked. “Ha! You’ll never know…”

Bryce: Lemme help with that. I was wondering where you were.

“He’s back!” exclaimed Quinn.

“You called that one, Quinn!” said Sean, smiling. “Hope he gets a diamond scene!”

“Agreed,” said Estela. Everyone stared at her. “...What?”

“Nothin’, just… still surprising to see you so invested in this,” Jake told her.

“Six chapters in and you’re still surprised?”

“Uh… yes?”

“Smack him for me, would you, Alyssa?” Her sister-in-law quickly obliged, much to Jake’s annoyance.

You rummage through your clothes after the world’s fastest shower.

“Whoa, is that a real thing?” asked Raj. “I bet I could beat the record! ...Wait, what’s the actual record?”

“I highly doubt that ‘World’s Fastest Shower’ is an actual record,” said Aleister.

“Aww,” Raj groaned.

Grace shrugged. “To be fair, there are a lot weirder things in the Guinness Book of World Records. Hang on, I’ll be right back.” She sprinted out of the lobby and into the elevator.

After Grace had left, everyone looked at each other awkwardly, not sure what to do. “...So, uh,” said Raj finally. “Anyone… done any, uh… stuff?”

“What kind of question is that?” demanded Aleister.

“Dunno, couldn’t think of anything,” Raj admitted.

There was another long, awkward silence. Diego started humming the Avengers theme randomly. Estela sighed and snuggled up closer to Ian; Alyssa mimed vomiting and snuggled up closer to Jake in response. Ian rolled his eyes at the ridiculous ‘competition.’ Zahra pulled out her phone and started doing something on it, while Craig looked at it over her shoulder, trying to see what she was up to. Aleister pulled out a book on physics and started reading. Sean idly started tossing and catching a pillow. Raj promptly fell asleep. After a few minutes, Quinn joined in singing along with Diego while Michelle started tapping her foot impatiently, watching the elevator doors.

After several long minutes of this, the elevator finally opened and Grace emerged, carrying a silver Guinness World Records book under her arm. “I’m back!” she informed the group.

“Huh, wha?” asked Raj groggily as he woke from his mini nap.

Grace sat down in front of a side table and opened the book, flipping through the index. “Hmm,” she said, frowning, “doesn’t look like there’s a ‘World’s Fastest shower,’ but there is a ‘World’s Largest!”

“Wait, really? I bet we could beat that!” said Craig.

“...How the hell would we do that?” asked Zahra.

“Pfft, it’s easy! Just turn this entire hotel into a giant shower!”

“And how exactly would that be accomplished?” asked Aleister incredulously.

“Umm,” said Craig, thinking hard. “Maybe you could, like… get a billion buckets of water and chuck them at the ceiling?”

Everyone stared at him, completely at a loss for words. “I… I just… where on EARTH did you learn logic?!” Aleister demanded.

“Alright, let’s just keep going,” said Michelle finally, interrupting the random discussion about turning the Celestial into a giant shower.

“Thank heavens,” Aleister muttered.

Housewarming: Home is where the party is.

“Wow, what an outfit!” exclaimed Quinn when the premium outfit appeared.

“Too bad it costs diamonds though,” Alyssa reminded her. “We don’t wanna miss a Bryce scene!”

“Agreed,” said Sean. “Alright, let’s vote. Who says ‘no?’” The vote this time was, surprisingly, unanimous. “Huh. That settles that.”

“Okay, but if there isn’t a Bryce scene, I’m gonna be annoyed,” said Michelle. “That outfit was gorgeous.”

“Also, drink coffee, y’all!” Jake reminded everyone. “...Y’know, it doesn’t really have the same ring to it.”

Jackie reaches down to the floor and holds up three shot glasses.

Jackie: You have some catching up to do.

“Yep, that’s 500% what Zahra would actually say,” said Diego.

Zahra laughed. “You’re not wrong there.”

Sienna: Guys! This is Wayne!

Wayne: …

Jackie: He is real. I owe Landry twenty bucks.

“Ha, I totally would’ve taken that bet,” Craig said.

“With the glasses, he actually looks more like Superman,” Diego commented. “New theory: he’s a secret fusion of Superman and Batman!”

“That is awesome,” agreed Ian. “Plot twist: this was all happening in Gotham all along!”

“I would literally die from the awesomeness,” said Diego. “And it’s also a Ninja Turtles crossover?”

“Uh, of course!”

“Alright, moving on,” said Michelle, clearly uninterested in the superhero talk.

Wayne: I don’t have time to come all the way over here to hang out or whatever. I have a very important job.

MC!Michelle: An important job?

“Being Batman, duh,” said Diego. “I mean, that’s pretty important.”

“I seriously doubt he’s Batman,” said Michelle.

“Aw, come on! Let me dream!”

“Hey, it can’t hurt to ask, right?” suggested Raj. “I say ‘doing what.’”

“Thanks, Raj,” said Diego.

Michelle shrugged. “Fine, if it’ll finally make you shut up about Batman,” she said, selecting the option.

“Wait! We haven’t voted yet!” protested Aleister.

“Too late,” said Michelle as Aleister pouted.

Wayne: I’m lead programmer at a software company.

“...by DAY,” added Diego.

“Sounds like you, actually, Craig,” said Sean. “Is there something you’re not telling us? Are you also secretly Batman?”

“Don’t encourage this,” groaned Michelle.

“Dude, that would be so badass!” said Craig excitedly.

“How many Batmen are there, anyway?” asked Quinn.

“Excuse you, I believe the proper plural form would be ‘Batmans,’” interjected Aleister.

“Actually,” said Diego, “there was a storyline in the comics about multiple versions of Batman, and it was called ‘Rise of the Batmen,’ so Quinn’s right,” he pointed out.

“Oh, please. You are making that up.”

“I would never make up something like that!” protested Diego.

“It’s true, I’ve read that one,” said Ian.

Aleister pulled out his phone and googled the comic in question. “Hmph. It appears I was wrong. My apologies. Clearly I am not very well-informed on the subject of Batman.”

Diego grinned. “The best subject!”

“You’re damn right,” agreed Estela. Diego held up a hand to air-five her from across the room.

Jackie: If I’ve gotta deal with that guy all night, I need another drink.

“Yep, sounds about right,” admitted Zahra. “That’s pretty much how I feel whenever I have to deal with Aleister.”

“Er… was that an insult?” asked Aleister. The rest of the group dissolved into laughter. “...What?”

Elijah: Michelle! You up for a game of beer pong? I’ve never played before!

“Wait, seriously?” asked Craig. “What has this guy been doing with his life?!”

“...Pursuing his future?” suggested Grace.

“You gotta let loose every once in a while, though. Otherwise you just burn out,” Raj said.

“I guess I never thought of it that way,” Grace admitted.

Jackie: Hey, Michelle. What do you say we go kick some ass in drunk rounds?

What do you play?

“Beer pong! Beer pong! Beer pong!” chanted Craig.

“Do you just wait for the moment you can chant something?” asked Zahra.

“Duh!”

“Can we please vote on this one?” asked Aleister. “Seeing as we skipped the previous vote.”

“It was an accident, I swear!” Michelle protested.

“Hmph. Whatever.”

“Alright, who votes ‘Beer pong?” asked Raj, while spinning his chair in a circle for some reason.

“Hell yeah!” shouted Craig, as he, Raj, Quinn, Diego, Alyssa, Jake, Zahra, Craig, and Sean raised their hands.

“Cool, beer pong it is!”

“Too bad,” said Michelle, frowning. “Drunk rounds sounds hilarious.”

“Sure, if you understand sciencey words,” said Jake. “For us ‘mortals,’ though…”

Michelle sighed. “You have a point,” she admitted, selecting the ‘beer pong’ option.

MC!Michelle: Let’s do this.

“LEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEROOOOOOOOOY! JEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENKINS!” yelled Craig. Zahra had to clamp her hands over her earmuffs in response.

“You go to all the trouble to avoid saying it, and the app says it for you,” said Michelle, shaking her head. “I think I’m gonna go deaf now, too.”

“Nobody appreciates the classics,” said Craig, frowning.

Bryce: We need a fourth… Rosa?

Rosa: Sure, I’ll play!

“She looks familiar,” said Michelle. “Where have we seen her before?”

“The basketball game a few chapters ago! Remember?” said Sean.

“Wow, you’re right!” said Michelle, remembering the character’s previous appearance. “How’d you know?”

Sean smiled at her. “It was a sports scene, of course I’m gonna remember it,” he said, laughing.

“Ha. I should’ve guessed!”

Bryce: Alright, pick teams.

Play with…

“Uh, Bryce, duh,” said Quinn immediately when the choices appeared.

“Agreed,” said Estela. “Who else?”

“Wait, is Estela actually doing the vote? It’s the apocalypse! Again!” joked Diego.

Estela glared at him. “Look, just vote already,” she said. Ian, Quinn, Michelle, Diego, Sean, Alyssa, Zahra, and Raj all voted along with her. “Huh. Looks like I win.”

“I just hope this story doesn’t ask me to choose between Rafael and Bryce, or my heart would explode,” said Quinn as Michelle picked Bryce.

Bryce aims and shoots, sinking the right cup!

MC!Michelle: Nice! Now I just have to make the same one…

PING-PONG BALL: Pick up.

“Drink coffee, y’all,” said Jake.

“So we gotta pick ‘right!” said Craig.

“Craig, there isn’t even an option yet,” said Zahra as she sipped her coffee.

You shoot, aiming for…

Which cup do you aim for?

“See? Now there’s an option!” said Craig.

“Okay, Craig, this one’s all you,” said Michelle, picking the ‘right’ cup.

Bryce: We win! We win! You’re my hero!

“Chyeah!” shouted Craig.

“Nice job, Craig,” said Michelle.

“I’m tellin’ ya, if there’s a ball involved, I’m gonna kick ass!”

“As much as I hate to admit it,” said Zahra, “you’re not wrong.”

MC!Michelle: Hey, Sienna. Are you okay? Where’s Wayne?

Sienna: He had to go home. He works early in the morning, so…

“‘Cause crime doesn’t sleep, am I right?” said Diego.

“He’s not Batman!” said Michelle.

“I mean, he still could be Batman,” Ian pointed out.

“Thanks, Ian,” said Diego.

MC!Michelle: (What do I do?)

“Tell her how we really feel,” said Alyssa. “Who’s with me?”

“Wait, is this an actual vote?” asked Ian, confused.

“Oh my god, you idiot!” said Alyssa. “Of course it’s a vote!”

Ian laughed and shook his head. “Never change, Alyssa. Anyway, I agree.”

In addition to the twins, Michelle, Jake, Estela, Zahra, and Aleister all raised their hands. “Yes! I win!” crowed Alyssa, as Michelle went ahead and selected the choice in question.

Elijah: Sienna cleared it with Farley. We’re good until midnight.

MC!Michelle: ...which is in ten minutes.

“Ha, uh, whoops,” said Diego.

“Yes, it is prudent to think such things through,” said Aleister.

“Easy! Just clean everything up super fast,” said Raj.

“...That sounds easier said than done,” Michelle commented.

“Aw, it’s not that bad! You just have to get everyone to help out!”

“Like I said. Easier said than done.”

Elijah: I’m Michelle, and this is Elijah.

MC!Michelle: Other way around.

“Pfft, I’ve definitely done that before,” laughed Craig.

“Why am I not surprised?” said Zahra.

She smiles at Elijah as she slips past you into her apartment.

MC!Michelle: (What do I do?)

“Aww! Somebody’s got a crush!” squealed Quinn.

“Too cute,” agreed Grace. “They’d be an adorable couple! We should definitely encourage him. Aleister, want to take a vote?”

“What? Oh, right,” said Aleister, looking up from his phone suddenly.

“What were you looking at?” asked Michelle.

Aleister blushed. “Oh, nothing,” he said quickly.

Grace leaned over and looked at his phone. “Oh, he was looking up information about Batman!” she declared.

“Grace!” said Aleister, blushing furiously as he pulled his phone away from her view.

“Wait, that’s it?” asked Diego. “That’s nothing to be embarrassed about! You know, if you want to know more about him, you can always ask me.”

“It’s just… well… you know,” stammered Aleister. “I quite dislike not knowing something. Even if it is about a fictional superhero who dresses like a bat.”

“Dark Knight marathon, anyone?” Diego asked the group. “Wait, Aleister, have you never seen the Dark Knight trilogy?”

“I have...erm… heard of it,” Aleister admitted.

“Oh, you are missing out! We are definitely having a Dark Knight marathon next get-together! For Aleister’s sake.”

Aleister looked like he was about to protest, but upon seeing Diego’s enthusiasm, his expression softened. “Ah, very well,” he said finally. “I suppose I might as well see what all the fuss is about.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to it already,” said Estela.

“I remember getting to see The Dark Knight in high school,” Grace told him. “I actually enjoyed it! I think you’ll have fun.”

“I am quite glad to hear it,” said Aleister. “I trust your recommendations.”

“Movie night! Yes!” shouted Diego excitedly.

“Alright, alright, next reunion we’re watching Batman movies. Can we continue the story already?” asked Michelle, frustrated.

“Party pooper,” complained Craig.

Michelle went to keep going with the story, but then stopped when she realized no one had voted on the choice yet. “Okay, voting time,” she said.

“What?” asked Ian, looking up from his in-depth Batman discussion with Estela and Diego. “Oh, uh… what was this choice about again?”

“My brother is an idiot,” groaned Alyssa. “It’s about… wait… uh… what was it about, again?”

“Epic fail,” laughed Jake.

“Shut up!”

“It was about Elijah’s crush on the girl who lives next door!” Michelle reminded everyone. “Now, are we gonna tease him or encourage him?”

“Encourage him, obviously!” said Quinn.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go with that, too,” said Sean. “Who else?”

Ian, Estela, Michelle, Raj, Diego, and Grace all raised their hands. “Nice, majority rules!” Michelle proclaimed, picking the ‘Encourage him’ option.

MC!Michelle: Don’t play dumb. She was flirting with you!

Elijah: She was just being friendly.

“Sounds like my brother, first time he met Estela,” snarked Alyssa. Ian threw a pillow at her in response.

Landry: You guys, it’s midnight! Why is everyone still here?

Jackie: It’s okay, Landry. The apartment’s not going to turn into a pumpkin.

“I understood that reference,” said Raj.

“I understood that reference to ‘I understood that reference,’” said Diego.

“I understood that I’m confused,” said Craig.

MC!Michelle: Oh! Hi, Farley!

Farley: What’s going on here? Mrs. Edelstein called with a noise complaint, dragged me away from watching Aliens Among Us.

MC!Michelle: (What do I do?)

“I mean, I feel like we’ve got everything under control,” said Michelle. “I say we fudge the truth.”

“I say we KILL THE BEAST!” quoted Diego randomly. Everyone stared at him. “...Sorry, the way you said that kinda sounded like… never mind.”

“Whatever. Who votes ‘fudge the truth?” asked Raj. Ian, Quinn, Estela, Diego, Sean, Aleister, and Grace all raised their hands to agree with him. “And ‘flat out lie?’” Zahra, Craig, Alyssa, Jake, and Michelle raised their hands. Raj took a moment to count up the votes. “Looks like ‘fudge the truth’ wins,’” he told Michelle, who picked the option in question.

Farley: Mrs. Edelstein’s such a damn whiner. Carry on! I’m going back to my show.

“Wow. That was easy,” said Zahra. “What a dumbass.”

“No kidding,” agreed Alyssa.

“To be fair, if I got interrupted while marathoning a show, I’d want to get back to it as soon as possible too,” Diego pointed out.

“Ha. True,” admitted Zahra. “Never underestimate the power of cliffhangers.”

Who do you talk to?

“Yes! Bryce, please,” said Quinn. “I was hoping for this!”

“It’s not a diamond scene, though,” Sean observed.

“It might be, eventually! I can dream, can’t I?”

“True,” admitted Estela, “though we haven’t had a scene with Jackie in a while, either.”

“Talk about a tough choice… who wants to take the vote?” asked Sean.

After a momentary silence, Michelle shrugged. “Sure, I’ll do it,” she said. “Who votes for Bryce?” Quinn, Jake, Diego, Zahra, and Grace all raised their hands along with Michelle herself; after a brief hesitation, Sean joined them as well. “Okay, and Jackie?” Ian, Alyssa, Estela, Raj, Craig, and Aleister voted. “Great, looks like Bryce wins!” Quinn smiled gratefully as Michelle chose Bryce.

As you hand Bryce an empty bottle to recycle, your hands graze each other. The touch lingers.

MC!Michelle: You know… you don’t have to go home.

“Awwwwww!” awwed Quinn. “I love it!”

“Diamond scene, please?” asked Diego eagerly.

What do you do?

“Yes! Totally called it!” shouted Alyssa excitedly. “Let’s do it!”

“Yes, please!” agreed Quinn.

“Definitely,” said Sean. “I mean, do we even need to vote at this point?”

“...Yes,” said Aleister bluntly.

Michelle sighed. “Okay, fine,” she said. “Who votes NOT Bryce?” Literally no one raised their hands, not even Aleister.

Sean raised his eyebrows at Aleister. “Like I said. Did we even need to vote?”

“Yes,” Aleister said again.

Michelle shook her head in amusement as she chose the diamond scene.

His hands cup your chin as he closes the door and presses you against it, kissing you slowly.

“Sexy music detected,” said Diego when the music changed. “I think we know what that means…”

“Definitely,” agreed Michelle.

Bryce: You are gorgeous and I need to see a whole lot more of you.

“Wow… is it hot in here, or is it just me?” asked Quinn.

“It’s definitely not just you, Quinn,” said Sean. “Bryce is… wow.”

“Yeah, how come you never say things like this, Jake?” asked Alyssa, shoving Jake playfully.

“...Cuz you’re deaf? I say that kinda stuff a lot, Princess!”

“Like when?”

“Last night, for one,” said Jake, winking at her.

Alyssa giggled. “Right! Remember? When we were-”

Ian interrupted them with exaggerated fake vomiting noises. “TOO. MUCH. INFORMATION,” he told the amorous couple.

Alyssa rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, like you and Estela haven’t-”

“Alright, conversation over!” declared Estela suddenly. “Michelle. Please.”

After seeing the expression on Estela’s face, Michelle quickly grabbed the phone and continued the story without hesitation.

MC!Michelle: Wait… how am I nearly naked when you’re still dressed?

“That is a problem,” Diego agreed. “He should fix that problem.”

“Amen to that,” said Zahra. “That shirt belongs… somewhere else.”

Bryce: Better?

“So much better,” said Michelle with an appreciative whistle upon seeing Bryce shirtless.

“Seriously, about time!” agreed Diego.

“Diego, we saw him shirtless in his very first scene, remember?” Michelle reminded him. “How could you forget?”

“Oh, I didn’t forget… I just couldn’t wait to see him shirtless again, duh!”

“Makes sense to me,” said Quinn.

MC!Michelle: So much.

“Drink coffee, y’all,” said Jake. Everyone stared at him, confused. “...What? Her character reacted the same way she did for real!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot we had that rule!” said Raj.

Zahra glanced into her cup and made a face. “Damn, I’m out of coffee already,” she complained. “Be right back.”

“Yo, Z, while you’re up, could you make me some coffee too?” asked Craig as Zahra got up to head toward the kitchen. She flipped him off in response.

Bryce: Are you sure you want this?

MC!Michelle: …

“Uh, keep going, duh!” Alyssa blurted out.

“Is it weird that I’m jealous, but also kinda agreeing with you at the same time?” asked Jake.

“...A little bit, maybe?”

“Who will take the vote?” asked Aleister.

But to his dismay, Michelle went ahead and selected the ‘keep going’ option anyway. At his scowl, Michelle shrugged. “We all know it would’ve won anyway. I just saved us all some time. You’re welcome.”

“Hmph,” hmphed Aleister.

You groan as your phone alarm goes off, slapping at the nightstand until you find it and hit snooze.

“At least you didn’t hit the phone off the table, sending it flying into the wall and completely destroying the stupid thing so badly that it took me a week and a half to fix,” said Zahra as she walked back in from the kitchen.

Everyone stared at her. “That was… uh… weirdly specific,” said Sean.

“C’mon, to be fair, that phone was too loud!” argued Craig.

“Craig. It’s an ALARM. It’s supposed to be loud!” Zahra said.

“Not my fault I didn’t know that!”

“Where the hell did you learn… like, basic logic?!”

“Okay, moving on!” announced Michelle before this argument could escalate any further.

Elijah points to the couch, where Sienna and Danny are sound asleep, slumped beside each other in front of the T.V.

“Aww… that’s so cute!” said Quinn.

“Not gonna lie, it does sound adorable,” Michelle agreed.

MC!Michelle: Okay, that’s pretty adorable.

“Yep. You’re literally her,” laughed Jake.

“That is not what ‘literally’ means,” complained Aleister. “Unless, of course, you are implying that Michelle is actually a character in a mobile game, which is, quite frankly, ridiculous.” Then he frowned, staring momentarily into space. “Why on Earth am I suddenly picturing a crab? How absurd.”

Your Pager: Read the message.

“Hey, another one!” exclaimed Diego when the one-option choice appeared. “There haven’t been enough of those this chapter.”

“You’re right,” agreed Raj. “I feel like there’s less of them each chapter.”

“Fewer,” corrected Aleister.

“Okay, Stannis,” Diego joked.

Jake frowned. “Hey, I was gonna say that! You stole my reference!”

“Guess great minds think alike?”

Jake sighed and shook his head, amused in spite of himself. “I just can’t stay mad at you, Underdog.”

Aleister just looked back and forth between the two of them, completely bewildered, as Michelle went ahead and continued the chapter.

MC!Michelle: (A 9-1-1… for Mrs. Turner!)

“Oh no, not again!” said Quinn. “I hope she’s okay!”

“Don’t worry, she’ll definitely be fine,” Alyssa reassured her.

“Did you predict that? Was this another one of your time tricks?” asked Quinn curiously.

Alyssa laughed. “Nah. I just remembered there wasn’t a warning at the start of this chapter.”

“Huh. Didn’t think about that before. That makes sense, actually!”

Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief, realizing that Alyssa was probably right.

Danny: Body temp skyrocketing. She’s in AFib, her B.P.’s crashing, and she’s got a pulmonary edema!

“Aah! Too much science!” yelled Craig.

“Yep. All you, Michelle,” said Sean.

“Thanks. The choice should be no problem!” Michelle declared confidently.

MC!Michelle: (One… two…)

Michelle couldn’t help but laugh when the choice appeared. “Oh, sure, of course there’s only one option,” she said. “I was all prepared and everything!”

“Diego, I think you jinxed it,” laughed Ian. “The app must’ve heard you when you said there weren’t enough one-option choices!”

“I can believe it,” Diego replied as Michelle chose the only option available, ‘Three.’

Dr. Ramsey: Sounded like quite the litany of emergencies. Good work.

“Wait, did he just… did he just… compliment us?!” asked Grace, shocked.

“Holy shit, plot twist,” said Zahra.

“Of course he finally compliments us when we didn’t actually get to choose anything,” complained Michelle.

“Maybe he’s intentionally messing with you,” suggested Diego.

“Seeing as it’s Dr. Ramsey, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised…”

C.T. Scan: Pick it up.

“Yep, the app definitely heard you, Diego,” said Ian.

“Also, I think it knows we ain’t drinking this time,” added Jake. “It’s just throwin’ these things at us all of a sudden on purpose.”

“‘Choices: The App that Trolls You,’” suggested Diego. “How’s that for a better subtitle?”

MC!Michelle: (‘Patient X?’ What does that mean?)

“OH MY GOD, X-MEN CROSSOVER YES PLEASE?!” shouted Diego excitedly. “Patient X is totally a mutant! Calling it right now!”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” said Michelle.

Diego frowned. “I can dream, can’t I?”

“I kind of want you to actually write this crossover,” said Ian. “Batman, Ninja Turtles, and the X-Men?”

“...I’d read that,” admitted Grace.

“Really? You think so?” asked Diego. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

MC!Michelle: (What could Dr. Ramsey be hiding?)

“That he’s secretly a mutant! It’s so obvious!” said Diego, only half-joking.

“As much as that’s probably wrong,” said Michelle, “it is an interesting cliffhanger. Maybe it’s a celebrity! They usually hide famous people’s identities in medical records.”

“It’s the secret vampire president from the first chapter!” Raj blurted out. “Michelle, I think you’re onto something!”

“A vampire? That’s even less believable than Diego’s X-Men thing,” snarked Zahra.

“But it already happened in the first chapter!” argued Craig.

“She wasn’t actually a vampire, dumbass!”

“She totally was! C’mon, Z!”

As the two of them continued to bicker, Jake stood up and stretched. “Well, as long as the chapter’s over, I’m gettin’ a snack,” he announced. “Princess, want anything?”

“I kinda have a weird taste for popcorn, actually,” Alyssa told him. “Is there any left?”

Jake shrugged. “Guess I’ll find out.”

“I’m going for a run,” Estela said. “Ian?”

“Right beside you!” The two of them stood up and headed toward the entrance as the rest of the Catalysts started to disperse as well.

From the couch beside Diego, there was a sudden loud yawn, and Varyyn sat up, blinking and looking around the room. “Ah! Diego!” he said with a smile when he spotted his husband. “It seems I needed a brief nap after my run to Elyys’tel. Are we ready to begin the next chapter of the story, then?”

Diego scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Varyyn? I, uh, don’t know how to tell you this, but that was more than a ‘brief nap.’ You kinda… missed… the whole chapter.”

“Wait… what?!”

Next Chapter: Link

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