#I have noticed my feet and fingers often get cold easy

[cheeseknives]

How I feel seeing teenage girls wearing cropped shirts outside, it's winter, stop it

[bwabys-scenarios]

Vampire kurapika?? ITS BEEN ON MY MIND ALL DAY

Strange Girl(NSFW)

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

Vampire!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

A/N: This post has been in my drafts since October 😭

warnings: slight yandere behavior, Kurapika is possessive/protective over you, fingering, creampie, biting, Kurapika drinks your blood

NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy @aliceattheart @atransmuter

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In his few centuries of being a vampire, Kurapika had grown lonely. He hid himself away in the large manor that had been passed down in his family, only coming out to feed at night.

Although, on one of these nights, Kurapika’s life would change forever.

It was late October, perhaps even Halloween night. Kurapika had stopped keeping track of the exact date years ago. It didn’t really matter, he couldn’t feel the cold or the heat on his undead skin, so the changes in months and weather meant little to him.

He wasn’t really that hungry, but had decided to feed that night to get it over with. Honestly, the blonde tried not to feed all that often, preferring to stay in his manor and read to pass the time.

However, he heard the town nearby would be relatively quiet, considering there would be a huge party that all the humans would be attending. That meant he could easily pick off one of the stragglers in the dead of night, giving him an easy meal.

Kurapika roamed the streets, wearing a new coat from one of his latest victims and using the streetlights to read as he walked. It was a new book, some kind of romance novel. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the genre, honestly it just depressed him, but over his 300 years of life, the things he hadn’t read became smaller and smaller. He didn’t have the privilege of being picky anymore.

It was around midnight when he sensed someone else on the path ahead of him. He glanced up from his book for a split second, long enough to see who it was, but not long enough to cause suspicion.

Already, he was feeling bad. It was a girl, a pretty one at that. She was strolling down the street, humming along to something she was listening to in her headphones. The girl didn’t seem to notice him until she got closer, glancing up to give him a friendly smile, pulling off one of her headphones.

“Hi!”

Kurapika gave a quick nod in response before looking away. He didn’t like talking too much with his victims before he drained them, it just left a bigger impact on him to talk to his food before he ate it. “Did you not get invited to the party either? I thought I was the only one!”

He attempted to ignore her, waiting for her to get close enough to strike. “Oh, is that a romance novel? I haven’t seen it before!”

‘This human sure likes to talk.’ Kurapika thought, his scarlet eyes peeking over his book to get a better glimpse at her.

She was closer now, only a few feet away. Now he could tell she was rather plump, and incredibly cute. The woman was wearing a thin silk nightgown with a cardigan thrown over it to keep somewhat warm.

“… why are you dressed like that? Its the end of October, it’s not exactly warm out.”

Although Kurapika couldn’t feel the cold, but he could tell she could. She hummed, stopping 2 feet in front of him. “Oh, sometimes I have trouble sleeping, so I walk around and listen outside and listen to music until I get tired.”

The vampire sighed, looking her over. “You shouldn’t do that. The people say there’s a serial killer on the loose.”

‘That serial killer being me,’ he thought, his eyes scanning her figure.

She tilted her head, seeming to take in his appearance before speaking again. “Hmm? I’m pretty tough I’ll have you know! Look!”

She pulls out a little pocket knife, and it was almost amusing how small and useless it looked. “I’m armed!”

Kurapika looked at this girl standing before him and smiling, and he knew he was going to be leaving hungry tonight. “I see… well, I’ll be off then.”

The woman blinked, quickly turning to grab his hand. “Hey wait!”

Kurapika froze, the soft, warm feeling of her touch sinking into his hand. He almost shuddered. The only ways for vampires to experience warmth was through human touch or blood, so it almost a euphoric feeling to be touched. “What?”

He glanced back at her, giving her a slightly surprised look when he saw she was pouting. “You didn’t tell me why you’re out here all by yourself. It’s not safe for you either!”

Was this little human… worried for him? He wanted to laugh, but instead, Kurapika decided to indulge her. “I guess I’m on a walk as well.”

She seemed unimpressed with his answer, but didn’t push further. “Ah…”

He looked down, noticing she still hadn’t let go of his hand. When she caught him looking, she blushed and pulled her hand away. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

She twiddled her thumbs, glancing up at him. Kurapika found this human somewhat… cute.

“One more thing!”

She smiled shyly at him. “What’s your name? I haven’t seen you around town!”

Kurapika thought for a moment. He could lie to her, but he considered lying a sin. It was a little hypocritical of him, considering he killed people to eat.

“It’s Kurapika.”

She smiled, offering her hand to him. “Well I’m (Name), nice to meet you Kurapika!”

And like that, they were exchanging phone numbers. It took him a moment once he was alone to process that she had snatched his phone, gotten his number, and given him hers. He was too distracted by the kissy mark now on his cheek… and the sweet smile she gave him when she left.

This human had caught his interest… and he wouldn’t be letting her slip through his fingers.

———————

(Name) ended up being quite interesting, keeping him entertained. At first, that all she was, entertainment for him until he got bored of her presence.

But after spending yet another night as her personal body guard while she went out for drinks… he felt the creeping feeling of protectiveness beginning to evade his mind. He didn’t like the way the other humans spoke with her, how they touched her with little regards to who she may belong to.

Lately, when she requested he’d join her, Kurapika preferred spending nights in at her home. She enjoyed this as well, calling their meetings “sleepovers”. He hated how he found that cute…

“Kurapika, do you want to sleep on the couch or my bed? I promise I don’t mind sleeping on the couch-“

He stopped her by raising an eyebrow. “I would not kick you out of your bed, (Name).”

She pouted a little, something that always softened Kurapika’s cold exterior. “Do you have any other ideas, my dear?”

(Name) thought for a moment, furrowing her eyebrows. “Hmm… oh!”

Kurapika blinked when she grabbed him by the shoulder. “We can share my bed! Ah, that’s the best way to have a sleepover, isn’t it?”

Oh, his naive and innocent little friend. Kurapika sighed, rubbing his temple. “Dear, I am a grown man and you are a defenseless woman. Are you sure?”

(Name) tilted her head, looking up at him. “Yeah… because you would never hurt me, right?”

If his cold, undead heart could race, it would. He melted, cooing softly as he caressed her chubby cheek. “Of course not, my dear. I would never hurt you, never.”

She giggled, tugging him towards her bedroom. “Then let’s get ready for bed!”

——————

It was hard for Kurapika to concentrate on sleeping when (Name) was curled up next to him, clinging to his side. Did this woman know what personal space was?

He sighed, reaching out to gently caress her cheek. She was so soft, so warm… and she smelled like home. Kurapika had never felt more at ease in his long, miserable life. He only was able to relax and truly be himself when he was with her.

She slept so soundly, even with him, a man eating monster in her bed. Kurapika had told her of his true nature a month into their friendship… yet she stayed with him.

“You’re beautiful, you know…”

Kurapika leaned forward, giving her forehead a kiss. “I love you…”

The words just came out… and he found himself blushing at the fact. He… loved her? Was that what these feelings were?

That explained how protective and possessive he was over her, how all he wanted to do was keep her tucked away in his embrace for all eternity. His lips found hers, and he gave her a gentle kiss as she slept.

When he pulled away, his eyes flashed scarlet. Kurapika wanted her more than anything, and for once his connection to this human had nothing to do with his need to feed.

Kurapika… he genuinely loved her. Her kindness, gentle nature, and understanding mind all made him fall head over heels. No human had ever accepted him for who he was, but she had with ease.

As he gently caressed her cheek, Kurapika vowed to love her for the rest of his life, to keep her safe and happy.

And as the sun rose, he made sure the blinds protected him from its harmful rays. Kurapika didn’t want to hide in his coffin, he wanted to spend more time with her. Now that he knew what he was feeling, all he wanted was to soak in her presence for as long as he could.

“Good morning, my darling.”

She rubbed her eyes, still waking up when she felt his hand on her cheek. “Mmph… Kurapika? Good morning…”

He was still in awe at the fact she didn’t flinch at his touch. “You don’t mind?”

“Mind what?”

Kurapika caressed her cheek with his thumb, his scarlet eyes soft with affection. “This. Me touching you…”

She blushed a bit, looking away. “I don’t mind at all… don’t you know how precious to me you are?”

“Precious? To you?”

Kurapika leaned in closer, his undead heart soaring. “You mean it, (Name)? Truly?”

Her cheeks continued to get warmer. “Of course… why would I let you stay with me if I didn’t care for you? I’m not stupid, I wouldn’t just share my bed with anyone.”

It was Kurapika’s turn to blush this time. A vampire as old as him getting flustered over one human? It was embarrassing.

But he couldn’t help but swoon when she touched her forehead to his. “I love you too, you know.”

His face flushed an even brighter red. “Y-you heard that?”

“Felt it too.”

She smiled, pointing to her lips. Kurapika whined in embarrassment, hiding his face. He felt like a teenage boy again, embarrassed by his first crush.

“Mmph…”

His blonde eyelashes fluttered when she captured his lips with hers. Kurapika raised his hands to cup her chubby cheeks, lightly squishing them as he melted into the kiss.

She tasted so sweet, her tongue more delectable than any blood he’d ever drank. He felt almost drunk off of her affection, his eyes half lidded as he pulled her into his lap.

It wasn’t until she whimpered into the kiss and shifted in his lap that he realized he was hard. He felt humiliated, popping a boner from a heated kiss.

“Want you…”

His teeth grazed against her neck as he whimpered out his needs. “Need you, (Name)… so warm, wanna…”

Kurapika slipped his fingers into your panties right as his fangs sunk into your neck. You hissed in pain at first, but the feeling of him stroking your needy cunt was enough to have you mewling out his name. “K-Kurapika!”

He’d never pleasured a woman before, but she wouldn’t have guessed by the way he was touching her as if he had done it a hundred times already. His fingers sank into her just as he retracted his fangs, lapping at the small pinpricks in her neck.

“So pretty, like an angel…”

He pulled down his pajama pants just enough for his cock to spring forward, rubbing it against her needy pussy. “Warm… so warm, all wet for me…”

He pulled her down onto his cock, capturing your lips in a kiss. She could taste the metallic taste of her blood on his tongue, his hands moving her up and down on his cock.

“Squeezing me…” he said with a grunt, feeling her clench around him as she came.

“C-cumming, Pika!”

He kept moving her, his mouth moving to her pretty breast. His tongue flicked against her nipple, quickly taking the (color) bud into his mouth to suck on.

Kurapika left hickeys all over her, occasionally sinking his gangs into her skin. As he continued to fuck into her pretty cunt, his possessive feelings continued to grow until he was growling into her ear.

“Mine, all mine. No one touches you but me.”

He was almost feral, his teeth bared as he came inside of her. She was a panting mess, whimpering as his cum painted her walls.

After giving her a creampie, Kurapika calmed down a bit, feeling like he had claimed her in some way. He let out a soft purr, rubbing his face against her neck and licking the bite marks he had left there.

“Kurapika…”

She clung to him, letting him clean her up and apply small bandages to the bite marks he left. He felt slightly guilty, but that guilt was outweighed by the immense satisfaction he felt so see his beloved covered in his love bites.

“Mine, all mine…” he purred, curling up with her in bed. The two spent the rest of the day snuggling, never leaving each other’s side.

Kurapika had found a reason to keep living his eternal life, and would never let her go. His (Name), his love.

His everything.

[savemefromanepicoftimewasted]

The Light Behind Your Eyes

Simon "Ghost" Riley X F!Reader Task Force 141 X Platonic!F!Reader

“Gave us quite a scare, darling, try not to do that again, that’s an order.” Price’s laugh was thick and wet, clearing his throat to try and help stop the tears. “Not allowed to leave us just yet there sweetheart, not until you’re old and gray.” Gaz knew you could hear their jokes, even if they fell somewhat flat.

a/n:ahhhhh! this is thanks to my amazing friend @gaylemonshark fuel my angst filled heart, this was probably the angstiest thing I've written in a while! warnings:mentions of blood, wounds, near death experiences, blood loss, broken bones, it's a total angst fest

It was supposed to be an easy mission, get the intel and get it back to base so that Laswell can analyze it. None of you had been expecting the firefight that greeted you the moment the helicopter landed. Price had taken the lead, Ghost running alongside him as they did their best to take out any enemies that were within eyesight. They’d managed to get more than half, laying low to check ammo and make sure that everyone was alright. A sniper had nearly taken Soap out, you had tackled him to the ground when you noticed the little dot resting on his shirt.

He’d thanked you quickly before firing back his own shot, successfully taking out the sniper that had been firing at your group. Price had sent you, Ghost, and Soap into the building to retrieve any important information while he and Gaz scoured the area. It was unnervingly quiet as you scoured for any documents, or hard drives that you could snag.

“I don’t like this, it seems too easy.” Ghost was on edge, and that wasn’t something he felt often.

“It’ll be alright, we’ll get what we need and meet back up with Price.” You pushed open the door to your left, jaw dropped as you took in the amount of filing cabinets.

Shit, this was going to be a lot more difficult with the amount of information you’d be sorting through now. Shouldering your gun, you started pulling open different drawers to see if any of them held any important documents you needed. You pulled out any files with names that stuck out and laid them down on the table behind you. The stack stayed relatively small, which surprised you. Ghost and Soap were still in the main area, scoping every corner to look for any stragglers that might’ve been hanging around.

You’d been so in your head you hadn’t noticed the man slipping out of the closet closest to you, gun raised. The sound of the safety is what caught your attention, spinning around to face him.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Your body was thrown back against the filing cabinets, pain spreading throughout your body like a wildfire. Ghost slammed into the room, knife wedged into the kids throat before he could even react. You pressed your hands against your thigh, and abdomen, wincing at the blood seeping through your fingers.

“We need evac!” Soap threw himself down beside you, hoisting you into his arms as gently as he could.

“Get her outside, now.” Ghost wanted the man at his feet to suffer, but he’d already bled out in the few minutes it took them to gather the files and get you outside.

You couldn’t keep your eyes open, eyes half lidded as you struggled to take in your surroundings. Price was barking out orders, more concerned with keeping you safe and alive than getting the information back. How could they have let someone slip through their fingers and get to you? It wasn’t until they’d placed you in the heli that the pain seemed to really set in. Ghost’s hands were pressed against your thigh, Johnny cutting off your tac vest to get to the wound in your abdomen. 

“Make it stop!” Your throat felt raw with the guttural scream you let out.

The pain was unbearable, and this wasn’t the first time you’d been shot before. There would always be wounds, times where someone wasn’t quick enough to warn you. This? This was hell incarnated. Your body was turning cold, fingertips and lips turning blue as your heart rate plummeted. Soap and Ghost watched as the heart monitor flatlined, your body limp on the bed in front of them.

“Goddamnit! Open your eyes!” Price was screaming above the sound of the helicopter blades, frantic.

Price threw off his gloves, beginning CPR as they hooked up another blood transfusion. If they weren’t able to get your wounds to stop bleeding they wouldn’t be able to save you. Gaz’s hands hadn’t stopped shaking, pressing more gauze against the angry wound on your thigh.

“You better come back or so help me.” Price’s voice cracked with each press of his hand.

The subtle beep of the heart monitor relaxed him for only a second before he shifted to help get the bleeding to stop. They needed to get you somewhere where a doctor could help take care of you, now. Soap’s hands were shaking as he pressed another wad of gauze against your abdomen, they couldn’t lose you.

“Stay with us darling.” Gaz began to thread a needle, glad the bleeding had slowed for the few precious seconds he had.

You didn’t so much as flinch as the needle made contact with your skin, they only had so long before you bled out and lost the battle your body was fighting. Gaz worked as quickly as his hands, and your body, allowed him to. He glanced over to Ghost when he finished stitching the smaller of the two wounds. Ghost’s hands were covered in your blood, sinking into the cracks that adorned his flesh.

“Lift your hands, I need to close the wound.” Gaz wasn’t sure where the medic was, but right now he was downright pissed they hadn’t been nearby.

Ghost didn’t want to move, to watch you die in front of his eyes. It was all his fault anyway, he hadn’t noticed the man slip into the room and shoot you. He’d been too distracted checking the other rooms, checking each corridor carefully. Gaz worked quicker with the wound on your leg, knowing they’d need to cut the stitches to get the bullets out back at base. Right now all he cared about was making sure that you stayed alive.

“We’re almost there darling, just keep holding on.” Price grabbed your hand, noticing how limp your hand was in his own.

They all sat around you, watching your chest rise and fall slowly, keeping an eye on the heart monitor they’d hooked you up to. The hospital felt too far away, how could they have not arrived yet? 

“Landing now, brace yourselves.” Nikolai knew he had to be gentle, or at least as gentle as he could be while landing a helicopter.

Your body jostled for a brief moment as they finally landed, the doors sliding open as Ghost and Soap started to yank off the IV’s and heart monitor. It wasn’t the safest thing to do considering the state you were in, but goddamnit they needed you to get inside. Ghost slipped out of the helicopter first, grabbing the end of the gurney closest to him. Soap helped slide the gurney out before grabbing the opposite end. They ran into the hospital, screaming for any doctor or nurse that was willing to listen. No one seemed scared or phased by the two, rushing over to take the gurney you were lying on.

Ghost knew his mask was wet, tears streaking down his cheeks as he watched the doors to the operating room swing closed. Soap was no better, chest shuddering as he tried, and failed, to keep his composure. Gaz and Price made their way in slowly, they’d known where you were, and now it was a waiting game.

1 Hour

2 Hours

3 Hours

4 Hours

5 Hours

6 Hours

7 Hours

8 Hours

That’s how long you’d been in surgery, eight fucking torturous hours while the team waited to see if you would even make it out alive. The surgeon had walked out slowly, surgical gown covered in your blood. Soap’s heart sunk, they’d been too late, you were gone.

“We were able to stop the bleeding and get them stable. Unfortunately there’s going to be a long road of recovery ahead, they have five broken ribs on top of the gun wounds.” Price nearly burst into tears at that moment, thankful you’d survived, but horrified at how much worse things were.

“Thank you doctor, is there any chance we can see them?” He wouldn’t push if they said no, your health was number one priority right now.

“Yes, but be advised they probably won’t be awake just yet.” She gave them the room number before heading off to strip off the reminder of what she’d just had to do.

Price and Gaz took off like rockets, eager to prove to themselves that you did in fact make it out of surgery. Soap was much slower to follow, Ghost staying rooted to where he was until Soap had made it to your room. Price was sitting at your bedside, both hands gently cupping one of your own. No one would ever mention the tears that were sliding down the captain's face, soaking into the beard on his cheeks. No one would say anything about how these normally stoic and strong men were brought to their knees knowing you were only clinging to life.

“Gave us quite a scare, darling, try not to do that again, that’s an order.” Price’s laugh was thick and wet, clearing his throat to try and help stop the tears.

“Not allowed to leave us just yet there sweetheart, not until you’re old and gray.” Gaz knew you could hear their jokes, even if they fell somewhat flat.

Soap couldn’t go into your room, couldn’t see you knowing that he still had a chance of truly losing you. You two were thick as thieves, pulling pranks on everyone at base, except for Price of course. He’d welcomed you to the team with open arms, saying he was happy there was someone new he could talk to. Price had told him, in no other terms, that you would still need to befriend all of them. You’d done so within a week, getting to know everyone and seeing how they worked best. It gave you an idea of how they would be in the field, who to stick with for which missions, and who worked better alone.

Ghost was someone that was a little harder to crack, you didn’t want to pry into someone who was clearly trying to stay hidden. Everyone had a past, it came with the territory, but knowing that he was working so hard gave you the push to not push. It took him nearly six months before he opened up to you, telling you everything. It had shocked you, not only because Ghost didn’t trust anyone whatsoever, but that he told you everything about his past. His traumas that had sunk so deep they were embedded into his very being. His soul had been tainted by the actions of other people, something he would never be able to clean.

The first time he’d taken off his mask in front of you was also the first night you’d kissed him. He’d let slip that his body wasn’t the only thing that barred scars, that he had to keep his face hidden to hide the horrors. You had whispered that scars made a person who they were, that with or without them, that person was still beautiful. It was the scar extending from just next to his nose, through his lips, down to his chin. 

In a way it was beautiful, this man who had killed to keep himself alive had a constant reminder of what happened to him. He’d never let it win, never let the horrors of his past be what tore him apart until he succumbed to death. You cupped his cheeks gently, lips pressing softly against his. You could barely feel the scar beneath your own lips, hands sliding so they were gently cradling the back of his neck. Ghost had also told you his real name that night, Simon Riley. You giggled and told him both his callsign, and his real name suited him. Though you had been a little shocked to find out that he had been a blonde.

“I show you my face for the first time, and your biggest gripe is my hair?” It was a soft blonde, a ting of yellow running through the tips.

“I honestly thought you’d be a brunette, pretty brown eyes and all.” You oh so gently gripped the base of his hair, straddling his thighs carefully.

“Ma thought so too, unfortunately my daddy was a blonde.” Ah, of course, men tended to take after their dads.

“Well, I still think you’re very attractive, blonde hair and all.” You pressed another kiss to his lips, sighing into it as Simon’s hands squeezed your thighs.

“She’s gonna be alright, I swear on it.” Soap wasn’t going to lose his best friend, he’d sell his own soul to the devil to fight it if need be.

Ghost couldn’t bear to look at you, to see how lifeless you looked after everything you’d been put through. He turned and stormed off, boots echoing in the nearly empty halls. Anyone who knew him would know he could walk in even the loudest shoes silently. Even with you being so close to death Ghost was still being considerate of those around him. You would joke about how often he scared you, how someone of his size and stature shouldn’t be silent. It was a habit he’d picked up after promising not to scare you anymore

Gaz had thanked you immensely for it, saying how he’d nearly pissed himself on a few occasions because Ghost had slipped into the room unnoticed. You’d played a few pranks with him, mainly scaring Soap and Gaz, or even new recruits that got too cocky. Even if he hadn’t been their superior the man was still intimidating. He never did it to you again though, ignoring your chances to try and ask why he’d stopped. It wasn’t because you’d asked nicely, or that Soap had told him one day that it kind of bothered you. No. It was simply because he truly felt comfortable around you. It had been so long that he didn’t feel as if he had to have the impenetrable walls up, ready to let you in.

He was going to tell you he’d loved you, wanted to wait until you were safe back at the base, but then he’d be the exact fucking reason you were here. Ghost was a lot of things, but an idiot was not one of them. He could spot an enemy without so much as glancing at them at times, so how had this one slipped by? He would’ve heard their shoes stepping on the broken glass that was scattered around. Or had this person already been in the room, hoping you had been one of them instead?

The had chilled slightly as he stepped outside, reaching into his pocket for the pack of cigarettes he’d brought with him. You had jokingly teased him about how they would kill him before any enemy could. And well, he’d actually laughed at that, because he kind of hoped the cigarettes would kill him first, then he wouldn’t have to let you down. He would be by your side when he passed, but life had ulterior motives.

He hadn’t even realized the first stick was gone until he was halfway through smoking the second one. It was a horrible habit he couldn’t break, you didn’t mind that he smoked, but it was the chain smoking that seemed to get to you. It only happened when he was extremely overwhelmed, or was self destructing. Ghost didn’t want to let you down when it happened, but it was the only thing that ever seemed to truly calm him down. He’d wanted it to be you, to have you be the salve his soul desperately needed. Nearly half the pack was gone before he finally stopped, stubbing out the final cigarette in the small dish beside him. He wasn’t sure if that’s what it was meant for, but he wasn’t about to litter.

“She’s awake, asking for ya lt.” Soap was wringing his hands together, creased leather squeaking in the quiet night.

“Go ahead, I’ll be up later.” Ghost couldn’t see you yet, not when his mind was thinking of a million different ways he could still lose you.

“I’ll save you a chair.” Soap patted his shoulder gently, he knew the older man was too tense, but there wasn’t anything he could do.

The only thing they could hope for was that you would make it through these next few days with no issues. Gaz had told them right away he’d stitched you up, not wanting to waste any seconds until you were in safe hands. They told him you were lucky, that if he had waited even a moment too long you wouldn’t have survived. It was a reminder how fragile life truly was, that you could be gone at any second. You wouldn’t admit it to anyone that not seeing Ghost hurt more than you expected.

“Thank you, for everything.” You squeezed Gaz’s hand, smiling at the way his eyes teared up.

“Just wanted to keep my favorite sergeant alive and well.” Gaz patted the back of your hand, laying it down gently in your lap.

“We all know that’s Soap.” Your grin widened as Gaz scoffed, you couldn’t laugh lest you suffer in more pain.

Price couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped through his lips, he would laugh for you since you couldn’t do much besides lay in your bed. The three of you were unaware of Soap and Ghost standing outside the door, watching you. Soap could feel his heart quicken, seeing your eyes truly open and shining with a light he was afraid would slip away. Ghost’s hands were shaking, he wanted to kiss you like it was the last thing he’d do. Price was trying to keep you smiling, to keep the worry from settling in.

Ghost pushed every rational thought from his mind as he pushed the door open, standing at the foot of your bed before he could stop himself. You looked over at him, eyes wide as if you had forgotten he was on the mission with you as well.

“I love you. I absolutely fucking love you Y/N, and watching you nearly die today reminded me that I could’ve lost you before I got the chance to tell you.” Ghost’s chest was rising and falling harshly. You opened your mouth to speak before he held a hand up, effectively cutting you off.

“I’d never gotten as close to someone the way I did with you, you brought out a side of me I haven’t seen since..since before everything.” Ghost swallowed harshly, reaching up to pull off his mask.

You could see the way his cheeks were streaked with tears, the eyeblack he wore underneath smudged and missing in spots. This was someone who hadn’t even told his captain about his past for over two years, hiding away the darkness that sat within him. Here you were, an angel sent from heaven to watch over him. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t protect you today, I will never forgive myself for letting you get hurt.” He dropped the mask onto the bed, hands wrapping around your ankles.

The room fell silent, the only sound being the heart monitor you had been hooked up to. Your heart hadn’t spiked at all, your breathing calm.

“I love you too Simon.” You wiggled your toes beneath the blanket, the tips of your toes pressing into his forearms.

The other three men would deny that they teared up at Ghost’s declaration of love, that they had all watched how much Ghost truly loved you. How he had slowly, oh so slowly, slipped out of his shell to show you who he was. He smiled down at you, the right side of his lip drooping ever so slightly due to his scar.

“‘M gonna go to bed now.” You carefully pulled the blanket higher up onto your chest, snuggling with the soft material.

Ghost let go of your ankles slowly, watching the way you slipped into slumber so effortlessly. Though he was positive it was also the pain meds being pumped into your body, easing away the burning ache that was surely running through you. Price led Gaz and Soap out of the room, telling the two men he’d get rooms close by so they could keep an eye on you. Ghost wouldn’t move, no matter what, not until you were allowed to leave with him.

_________

His dreams were plagued by your death, each one becoming more vivid than the last, your blood staining his skin. He could taste copper, the salty rusted tang that blood always seemed to have. Times where he was the one pulling the trigger, mistaking you for an enemy as he took your life. He couldn’t seem to wake up, no matter how loud he screamed for his unconscious mind to wake up. It wasn’t until your fingers slowly began to run through his hair that he awoke, chest shuddering and cracking as he broke down once more. His chest heaved with wracking painful sobs. How could you still want to be with him? How could you possibly love him after what he’d done to you?

“You know, I always thought you had a softer side to you, something that no one got to see because you kept it hidden away from the world. And I was right.” You curled your hand slightly, running your nails across his scalp.

“Better than you imagined?” It was how Ghost coped, with dry humor.

“It is, thank you for letting me see it.” You continued gently scratching his scalp, feeling the way he slowly relaxed.

You knew that Ghost kept himself closed off for a reason, it wasn’t your typical “I got hurt by an ex and now I’m afraid”. No, this was something that wouldn’t be brushed off with a few kind words and a long hug. He would never be able to live his life without a reminder of what happened to him. And instead of turning him away when he’d practically begged you to, you smiled at him, and pulled him close to you. It was that day that you knew you were in love with him, but it wasn’t the time to voice those thoughts.

“Do you ever think about what happens after we die? If there truly is a heaven or a hell? Or if we reincarnate into new people?” You’d never given it much thought growing up, but this right here? This was a reminder that you were only human, and that life could be gone in the blink of an eye.

“Sometimes, stopped believin’ in all ‘at when I was a kid.” Ghost wouldn’t admit it had been when he was barely five years old.

No one wanted to be with someone that struggled to look at themselves in a mirror, to be reminded of the man that had beaten him so badly as a child. He was angry he’d grown to look like his father, save for his eyes, those belonged to his mother. The only thing he ever had left of her were his eyes. 

“I hope they have your eye color.” You slid your fingers down, grazing the edge of his jaw.

He sat up slowly, brow furrowed as he stared at you in the bed, did he hear you correctly or was he finally losing it?

“Excuse me?” Ghost’s jaw dropped open, your face was clear, so you were actually serious.

“I hope that our kids have your eyes, they’re this gorgeous shade of brown, like trees during fall in Massachusetts.” You’d spent quite a long time there, reveling in the colors when fall came around each year.

Ghost didn’t think before surging forward, pressing his lips roughly against your own, hands sliding back and gripping onto the roots of your hair. You grabbed onto his forearms, putting every ounce of strength you had into the kiss. Simon was the only man you’d willingly spend the rest of your life with, no matter how long or short that time might be.

[daisies-daydreams]

HELLO HONEY !!

i’d like to request a ghost x reader fic where he’s a college athlete and the reader is the coach’s daughter. he attracts a lot of attention (i wonder why) and is used to getting who he wants and is pleasantly surprised when the readers uninterested at first :)

Try (CollegeAU!Simon Riley x F!Reader)

Pairing: Simon Riley x F!Reader Category: Fluff & Angst Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Themes, Drinking, Smoking, Attempted Drugging, Referenced Assault, Violence Word Count: 4.9k+

A/N: Hello! Thank you for your request! I apologize: I tried my best to understand rugby, but it's not really popular where I'm from. It's just a sport that I thought would fit Simon the best. I hope you enjoy!

(Minor spoiler: Simon is not the one who drugs your drink).

Image Source: Pexels

-> Ch. 2

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Simon rubbed the red mark on his cheek, his eyes lingering on the woman who was pulling her clothes back over her bare body.

“I just can't believe you, Simon,” she spat. Simon remained silent as he watched her grab her purse and stomp out of his dorm without another word. The door slammed with a loud thud as he remained clutching the blanket with one hand and cradling his cheek with the other. The welt stung, sending small ripples of pain through his face.

Simon grumbled as he rubbed the sore spot a few more times before planting his feet on the floor. He pulled out his phone and earbuds. Rugby practice was starting soon, and he couldn’t waste his time ruminating about a short fling.

Music blasted through his ears as he grabbed his duffel bag and walked towards the field. It was a blazing summer day, the sun beating down against his rugged body. He passed by a group of female students. They giggled and whispered as he nodded and waved towards them.

Getting a woman wasn't easy for Simon. Actually keeping them was the difficult part. All of the players eyed Simon as he walked into the locker rooms.

“What happened to you?” a foreign exchange student, nicknamed "König", gawked as Simon strode up to his locker. Simon patted his cheek, the welt still slightly swollen.

“Just a mishap,” he replied in a flat tone as he changed into his Jersey and shorts. Johnny, his roommate and teammate, peeked from beside the lockers.

“You sure it wasn’t a parting gift from that hen you’ve been seein?” he asked with a raised brow. Simon tensed at his words and harshly pulled out his boots. König and Johnny exchanged a knowing glance.

Simon sighed as he slipped his large footwear on. He tied his boots just as he heard the faint sound of a whistle blowing.

“C’mon. Practice is starting soon,” König said. Johnny followed after him, then Simon.

Despite him having incredible sex just before he came to practice, there was a tiny seed growing in his chest. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it felt cold and made his heart feel like it was filling with lead. Simon tilted his head side to side as if shaking his own thoughts out. He scanned the field and the sharp sting in his chest quickly faded when he saw a young woman sitting in the stands.

Your hair was pulled up in a messy bun, your clothes not too revealing but not too modest. You nibbled on the end of your pen as you stared down at your notebook, a textbook resting on your lap. You glanced up and locked eyes with him. Simon’s chest exploded with warmth, his pupils dilatating ever so slightly. He couldn’t help but swallow when he saw your lips part slightly.

The sound of a whistle screeched and broke his attention.

“Riley! Let’s focus!” Coach Price’s voice boomed. Simon huffed as he ripped his gaze from you and jogged towards the players doing warm ups. Everyone agreed that the new coach was something of a hard ass. Rumors have spread that he used to be a black op in the SAS. Simon wasn’t really one for gossip, so he shrugged it off.

Simon would peek over at you every so often, your beauty only making him sink further into desire. Johnny noticed this fairly quickly. He nudged Simon’s shoulder as they were doing a few warm-ups.

“I wouldn’t go after her if I were you,” Johnny said, his eyes full of worry. Simon laughed.

“What? She your bird or somethin'?” he asked. Before Johnny could reply, Coach Price blew the whistle again.

“Everybody line up in formation!” he bellowed. Simon bit the inside of his cheek as he stole another glance at you. You were still nose-deep in your homework. You yawned and stretched your arms above your head.

Another whistle blow.

“Riley!” Price barked. You looked up again, this time your lips forming into a small smile as he met your gaze. Simon felt even more determined when he played now, checking over his shoulder every now and then. Of course, this came with consequences, including several remarks from Price.

"In case you forgot your position: you're the fullback, Riley! Watch for your team!" the coach yelled at the top of his lungs. Simon saw you giggling before turning back to your book.

By the end of the training, he was worn out and covered in sweat, his tattooed arms flexing as he stretched himself on the bench.

“Hit your head too many times?” Johnny teased. Simon huffed as his eyes wandered back up to the stands where you still remained. Your hair was slightly frizzy from the late summer heat. You tucked a strand behind your ear before taking a drink of water. Judging from the expression you made, it was empty. You rose from your seat and started walking to the nearest water fountain. Simon took a huge swig of water before wiping his mouth.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. Johnny’s mouth opened to call for him but he was already making his way up the metal steps. Simon actually felt his heart race as he approached you. You were filling up your water bottle as he pressed his hand against the wall.

“Scuse me,” he said. You turned around and blinked. A forced smile stretched across your face as he strolled up to you, his jersey clinging to his rugged, sweaty skin. Your beauty almost made him forget just why he came up there.

“Just wanted to introduce myself. The name’s Simon,” he said as he held his hand out. Your smile fell as you shook it, your palms soft compared to his.

“I thought it was Riley,” you quipped. He laughed.

"That's my last name. Just call me Simon," he grinned. You gave him a short nod before making your way back to the stands. Simon scrambled towards you.

“I haven’t seen you around practice before,” he commented as you two walked. You nodded, your face tight.

“I’ll probably just be around for this week,” you said with a slight edge to your voice. Simon tilted his head. There seemed to be something familiar about you. Maybe you were one of his classmates?

“Yeah? Why’s that?” he asked. Your lips pursed as you squeezed your bottle.

“My car’s the shop,” you explained, your nostrils flaring. Simon grunted, his eyes looking you up and down as both of you turned the corner.

“Sorry if this is sudden, but has anyone ever told you how gorgeous your smile is?” he drawled, his voice dropping a few octaves. You blinked and sighed.

“Listen, you seem like a somewhat decent guy, but I need to get back to my homework,” you stated matter-of-factly. Simon nearly choked on his spit. This is the first time in what felt like an eternity that a girl’s turned him down. His heart began to race as he watched you slip away.

“Bye,” you quickly said with a wave as you returned to your seat. Simon’s jaw clicked as he felt a bitter taste envelope his tongue. Eventually, he stopped staring at you and made his way back down to the field. Johnny’s face looked somewhat pale as he strode up towards him.

“What?” Simon snapped. Johnny pointed towards the stands. Simon’s eyes followed him. His throat grew tight as he saw you talking to Coach Price. The man’s arms were crossed as he nodded along to your words. It felt like lightning struck through him when Price’s head snapped towards him, his eyes narrowing and face turning bright red.

“Good luck, mate,” Johnny said as he roughly patted his shoulder. Simon scoffed as his roommate stepped back while Price approached them. Everyone watched, the entire field seeming to freeze. The coach came uncomfortably close to Simon as he snarled in a strained voice:

“My office. Now”.

+++

The next several minutes were filled with Price casting death glares at Simon as he ranted at him.

“Listen here, boy. I may be new, but I already know of your reputation here on campus," he began. Simon's face remained as neutral as possible as spit flew out of the man's mouth. "I’m not about to let my daughter become another one of your brazen hussies,” he growled as he shook his index finger at him. Simon felt his chest turn to stone as he watched the coach scowl.

“You are not to touch, speak, or even look at (Y/N),” Price ordered. Simon nodded quickly, his chest tightening as the man stared him down. The coach leaned forward, his palms pressed to the cold wood of the desk as he scowled.

“Mark my words, Riley. If I find out you’ve stuck your knob inside my daughter, I’ll cut it off and feed it to my fucking dogs,” he roared. Simon swallowed a lump in his throat as he nodded.

“Same goes for the rest of you!” Price shouted as his head snapped towards his door. Whispers followed by several shuffling feet were heard outside the door. Simon’s blood ran cold as his shoulders tightened.

“Yes, sir. I understand,” he muttered. Price’s nostrils flared as he pointed out of his office.

“Good. Now, get out of my sight. And don't get distracted next time...or else,” he spat. Simon nodded before turning on his heel, quickly making his way down the hall. The locker room was silent when he stepped inside. Several eyes were locked on him as he walked towards the showers. Simon closed his eyes and sighed as the cold water rushed down his sweaty, rippling back. Thankfully, the locker room was nearly empty by the time he stepped out.

Johnny stood scrolling through his phone before looking up. He offered Simon a careful smile as they walked out of the building.

“Want to get some takeaway?” he asked. Simon remained silent, simply looking forwards as the world blurred around him.

Not only did you reject him, but the man who was your father happened to be one of the most terrifying people he’d ever met. A lump formed in his throat as he glanced down at his crotch, then back up at the sidewalk.

“Why didn’t you tell me she was the coach’s daughter?” Simon grumbled. Johnny shrugged.

“I tried to, but we had to start practice,” he explained. Simon ran a hand down his face. Frustration built inside him like boiling lava inside a volcano. He whipped out his phone, texting a girl he met a few weeks ago.

“Which one are you texting this time?” Johnny asked bluntly. Simon ignored him, instead sending her a message about a party this weekend. A friend of theirs, Kyle, was in a fraternity who was notorious for throwing massive raging keggers.

“Surprised you actually texted a girl back this time, Ghost,” Johnny quipped as he nudged his shoulder. Simon rolled his eyes.

“When the hell are you all goin' to drop that annoyin' nickname?” he grumbled. Johnny chuckled as they stepped through the doors to their dorm building. Simon happened to glance over to see you passing by in a black truck. Your eyes locked again briefly before you looked away. Price was in the driver’s seat, his eyes set on the road as he pulled away.

“Come on. I think a couple of pints is in order for the both of us,” Johnny said. Simon raised a brow.

“You no longer with Gabby?” he asked. Johnny’s bright smile seemed to falter.

“I dinnae ken. She said she ‘needs a break’,” the Scotsman said as he flexed his fingers with air quotes. Simon grunted.

“Alright-but you’re buyin’,” he stated. He didn't even try to hide his wry grin as Johnny scoffed and rambled at him.

+++

The next few practice's were brutal, to say the least. Every time he looked at you, Price demanded everyone to do one-hundred push ups. Simon was beginning to believe the rumor's about the coach's past.

“For fuck’s sake, man-just keep your eyes off of her!" one of the players gaped after a tiring practice. Simon ignored him as he changed into a fresh pair of clothes. His shorts hugged his muscular thighs nicely while his tank too stretched over his rugged upper body. Johnny came up beside him.

“You still goin’ to Kyle’s party tonight?” he asked. Simon nodded.

“Yeah, Tracy ditched me at the last second though,” he shrugged. Johnny patted his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure there’s a lovely lass who’ll gladly get into your pants…that is, if she hasn't already,” Johnny smirked. Simon punched his arm, causing the Scotsman to chuckle.

“What about you, big guy? You wanna come?” he asked as he turned towards König. Simon had absolutely no idea how this guy was human. He had to duck every time he walked through the door for crying out loud. König sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Nein, it’s not really my scene,” he shrugged.

“Fair enough-just know the invitation is always open,” Johnny grinned. König nodded before slipping towards the showers. A 'thunk' sound reverberated across the room as König swore in German and rubbed his head.

Simon closed his locker door before padding out of the building. His eyes lit up when he saw you climbing into a black truck. He frowned when Coach Price’s cold, heavy gaze trailed over towards him. He glared at him before climbing into his vehicle and driving away. Simon sighed before making his way back to the dorm.

+++

Loud music thumped against the walls. Smoke hung in the air as several students bumped and grinded against each other. The lighting was dim inside the frat house as chaos erupted at every waking second. Simon sipped at his beer while Kyle rambled on and on about how obnoxious some of the new frat members were.

"And Graves-Christ, don't even get me started. He never stops talking about his precious Porsche back in the States. His old man got it for him as a present for his sixteenth birthday. Can you fuckin" believe that?!" he scoffed as he waved his hands wildly. The song changed during the one-sided conversation and that’s when Simon felt it: the cold, dark pit opening up inside his chest.

The feeling made his beer grow stale, music dull and the air thick and heavy. He brushed past Kyle as he made his way towards the back deck, ignoring his several questions. The people in the room seemed to slow down as he barraged his way through. He barely caught a glimpse of König.

"Bastard actually showed up," Simon thought. A blonde girl was sitting next to the Austrian, batting her lashes as she whispered something into his ear. His cheeks turned a bright red as he pulled his hoodie over his head.

Simon swung the door open and slammed it closed. He took a deep breath of the chilled night air. Crickets chirped as the muffled music inside swelled into a crescendo.

“Needed a break too, huh?” a familiar voice asked. Simon’s eyes flew open and landed on you. You were wearing ripped jeans and a black crop top, your body decorated with minimal amounts of jewelry. Even in the dim lighting, you looked ethereal.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. You turned your body towards him, the light from inside highlighting your features.

“Got any smokes?” you asked. Simon raised a brow and nodded.

“Yeah, but I forgot my lighter,” he said as he rummaged through his pocket. You snatched something from your jeans, pulling out a small, silver box. Simon grinned as he walked over, offering you a cig. You flicked the lighter on before taking it from his fingers. You turned as you sucked in a long drag, puffing out the smoke into the night. Your eyes lingered on his shocked face.

“What? I’m the daughter of a coach, not a pastor,” you retorted before taking another drag. The corners of Simon’s eyes crinkled as he remained near you. He slid his hands together as both of you stood silently, watching the water of the lake catching the light of the full moon.

“I’m sorry if I was being too forward the first time we met,” he sighed. You gave him an unreadable look before exhaling out a long trail of smoke.

“You’re fine,” you said. Simon turned towards you.

“No, really. I should've just-” he said as his eyes wandered around. You nudged his shoulder.

“I said it’s fine, Riley,” you huffed. His lips curled up as you both went back to staring at the lake.

“Did my dad tell you that he’d cut off your dick?” you asked bluntly. Simon nearly choked on his spit. You cocked a brow, already getting your answer just from his pale face. You shook your head and sighed. “Sorry, he can get a little intense,” a small pink blush made its way across your face. Simon nodded.

“A little?” he muttered and rolled his eyes. You snorted, a genuine, small grin etching across your face. You were soon laughing, your bubbly chuckles falling across the landscape and drowning out the music. Simon found himself chuckling along with you, his face hurting from how much he was smiling.

Despite all the women he's been with, this had to be the first where he felt something genuine stir inside his chest. It wasn’t the drunk feelings he got whenever he’d lie in the afterglow-it felt deeper, pouring and coursing through his entire body.

And he realized something as the smoke from your lips wafted towards him: he wanted to feel that genuine warmth every second of his waking life.

You put out the cigarette on the deck before wiping an amused tear from your eye.

“Thanks, Riley. I really needed that,” you smiled. Simon beamed.

“No problem. Just come to me if you need a laugh. I've gotta funny face, anyway,” he commented. You snorted and lightly punched his arm.

"Not that funny looking," you smirked. Simon pretended to be offended before both of you laughed again. His face grew hot as you looked up at him. Your face looked so serene as you parted your lips. Simon tilted his head when the words came out as a garbled mess.

“You feelin’ alright, kid?” he asked with knitted brows. Your eyelids began to droop as you nodded.

“Just…dizzy…” you slurred as you wobbled around. Simon’s eyes widened as your legs suddenly crumpled beneath you. He was quick to snatch you in his burly arms.

"(Y/N)?" he asked. You rolled your head around, your eyes glazed over as you continued to slur. His eyes flicked over to a red solo cup resting on the ledge of the deck. Heat rose inside his chest as he gritted his teeth. He laid your head down on the deck, keeping his hand beneath it.

“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?” he asked, his heart sinking into his stomach. You gurgled weakly, eyes hazy and unfocused. “Fuck,” he hissed as he frantically looked around. A man seemed to be watching both of you from inside. He quickly ducked behind a group of women. Simon looked back down at you. His thumb stroked a tear that rolled down your cheek.

"Simon...'m scared," you sobbed quietly as your pupils became constricted.

"I know, hun. Just let me-" he remembered König sitting on the couch right next to the door. He looked back down at you.

“I’m going to get help. I’ll be at the door and I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?” he mumbled. You parted your lips, your head lolling to the side. Simon sprinted to his feet and wrenched the door open. König sputtered as Simon grabbed him from his chair, the woman shooting daggers at him. He led the giant man outside. König gasped when he saw your unconscious body.

“What happened?” he asked. Simon gripped his shoulders.

“I think (Y/N)‘s drink has been spiked,” he seethed. König’s face lost its color as you slurred out incoherently. Simon slid his car keys into König’s hand. “I need you to take her to the ER for me,” he said as he gripped his shoulders.

“What are you going to do?” König asked as he began to gently pick you up. Simon tightened his fist as he strode back into the crowd.

“I need to take care of something real quick,” he hissed. His head throbbed as he stomped and shoved his way through several people. Simon narrowed his eyes when he saw the familiar man rushing towards the side door. He gritted his teeth as he ran towards him. The man yelped as Simon landed a punch square across his cheek. Several women gasped and scattered as Simon pulled the man to his feet.

“Tell me what you put in (Y/N)‘s drink,” Simon growled as he shook the man’s collar. The dark-haired man spat in his face, blood and spit spraying across it.

“What drink, you arsehole?” he snarled back, though a small, knowing grin crept across his face.

“If you’re going to fight, then take it outside,” a frat member yelled towards him. Simon curled his fists in the man’s polo shirt.

“Gladly,” he said while tilting his head.

He dragged the man through the side door, punching him again across his other cheek. He watched in satisfaction as he fell to the ground, groaning while he cradled his face in his hands. Simon drove his large fist into the man’s chest, causing him to wheeze. He came down onto one knee, his voice sharp and acidic.

“Tell me what you put in her drink,” he said as he grabbed the man by his shaggy hair. The man winced. Simon gripped at it even harder. "I won't ask again," he warned. The man spat out another string of spit and blood.

"Fentanyl," he muttered. Simon's fists shook as he readied another blow.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Kyle gasped. Simon leaned his head towards him. Kyle stood with his mouth agape. Several people crowded and watched from behind. Simon glanced back down at the man. His face was covered in blood, his cheeks already swelling with bruises. The polo he grabbed him by was similar to the one Kyle wore.

“Ky-you gotta get this twat off of me! He's fuckin' delusional!” the man sputtered. Simon released his grip on the man. He fell back to the ground with a yelp. Kyle ran up to him.

“You alright, VP?” he asked. Simon frowned as he watched the man get picked up.

“I’ll be fine,” he glared at Simon. His eyes trailed down to see a piece of a plastic bag poking out of his back pocket.

“Wait,” Simon called as Kyle was escorting the man back into the house. Kyle scowled at him.

“I’m not waiting for anything, Riley. You nearly beat the shit out of our VP,” he spat. Simon stepped forward, causing the man to flinch.

“Check his back pocket, but don't touch anything if you find it” he ordered. Kyle twisted his lips while the Vice President released a laugh.

“Don't listen to this git, Garrick. He-“ Kyle's nostrils flared as he spun the man around and grabbed at his pocket. His eyes bulged when a bag filled with white, dusty powder slipped out. The Vice President’s face fell.

“That’s-That’s just for...personal use," he explained, his voice weak and shaky. Kyle’s brows furrowed as he threw the Vice President onto the lawn, his beaten and bruised body landing on top of the bag. The man hissed as he rose to his hands and knees.

Simon pulled out his phone and quickly texted König what you had consumed. Just as Simon put away his phone, the VP stood on his feet and swung his fist into his ribs. Simon groaned as he clutched his side, a dull ache reverberating across his skin.

“He’s getting away!” one of the women inside screamed. Simon grabbed his ribs, trying his best to run towards him. The Vice President was surprisingly quick, though. He looked back and smirked at Simon before suddenly running into a rough wall. He huffed as he fell back to the ground. Johnny stood with his hands on his hips, cocking a brow. The Vice President's bottom lips quivered.

"Please, you have to help me! These men are trying to frame me!" he begged as he clawed at Johnny's ankles. Johnny's shoulders bounced as he released a hearty laugh.

"Yeah? Then why are you running away?" he asked. The man's face grew pale as he was surrounded by the two men. Simon cracked his knuckles while Johnny leaned down. "Ever been to a rugby match?" Johnny grinned. The man whimpered.

+++

You blinked slowly, your eyes still somewhat unfocused. Price’s eyes became misty as he rose from his chair.

“Dad?” you asked with a hoarse voice.

“Pumpkin, thank God you’re alright,” the coach choked as he instantly rushed to your side. Your eyes were wide as he hugged you tightly.

“Dad, I-I’m so sorry. I tried to be careful like you taught me, but-“

“Hush, now. I’m so happy you’re safe,” he sniffed. Your eyelids fell as you silently cried, your father holding and rocking you gently. Simon watched from the doorway, his arms crossed.

After they taught the VP a lesson, they called the police. They promptly took the man into custody (though not without questioning his broken nose and several bruises). Simon had to ask to borrow Kyle’s car once they took the man away. He reluctantly agreed and yelled at Simon as he sped out of the parking lot. Relief washed over him when when the nurse said you'd be okay. König remained until he knew you were alright, trading Simon's keys for Kyle's. It was around one in the morning when Price showed up-his hair messy and face completely pale.

“Where’s my little girl?” he asked with a strained voice, his eyes weary and solemn. The men directed him to the front desk and a woman escorted all of them back.

Simon’s attention was snapped back to the present when someone clears their throat behind him. He turned. A woman wearing a police uniform cocked a brow at him.

“I’m detective Jones. Is this where Y/N is staying?” She asked. Simon nodded and let the man through. “Thanks,” Jones said in passing. Price pulled back, his hands squeezing your shoulders as the detective stepped into the room.

“Good afternoon, I’m detective Natalie Jones,” she said as she held out her hand. Price’s face grew stern as he shook Jone’s hand.

“John Price,” he said. Jones nodded.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask (Y/N) a few questions,” she said as she flipped open a dark notebook. Price squeezed your hand as his face hardened even more. “I understand your concerns of leaving her alone, sir, but I promise it won’t take more than fifteen minutes,” she explained. Price looked over at you.

“It’s okay, Dad,” you assured him weakly. He squeezed your hand again and sighed.

"I'll be right out in the hall if you need me," he said. You gave him a tired smile as he rose from his seat. Price nodded at the officer before walking into the hall.

Simon noticed the bags under his eyes. Jone's shut the door behind her as Price stood mere feet away from the young player. The sounds of doctors and patients, as well as various beeps, echoed in the stark hallways. The coach cleared his throat.

“Thank you for...helping (Y/N),” he said. Simon rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sure,” he replied. The two men shuffled awkwardly.

"Listen, I'm sorry I was kind of hard on you before," Price huffed. Simon raised a brow.

"Kind of?" he thought. Price bit the inside of his cheek as he placed his hands on his hips.

"It's just...(Y/N)'s all I have left. She's still my little girl to me, and I don't know if I'm ready to accept that she's become a woman," he sighed. Simon remained silent. Price leaned on the wall, staring into the closed door. "There's just so much out there that could hurt her, and I won't always be there to protect her," the coach's voice cracked as tears welled in his eyes.

Simon craned his neck and looked down at his feet. He slowly moved forward and hesitantly placed a hand on Price's shoulder. The coach flinched at the sudden contact, his eyes slightly red as he glanced over.

"Someone will always be there to protect her. She knows the entire bloody rugby team for Christ's sake," Simon said. Price's lips cracked into a miniscule smile.

"Right," the man sighed. Simon slid his hand from Price's tense shoulder. The door creaked open, followed by detective Jone's stepping out. Despite her composure, Simon could see the mist in her eyes.

"Mr. Riley, if it's alright I'd like to ask you a few questions as well," she said. Simon nodded.

"Alright," he said. She motioned for him to follow her. As he passed by your room, both of you exchanged glances. You gave him a bright, warm smile. He grinned back. Simon is a fullback-it's his job, after all.

Someone will always be there to protect her.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Tag list:

@notthatfanfictionwriter

[kelcemenow]

Birthday Suit - Chapter 3.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1616

Warnings Lots of fluff and some strong language.

So, this was supposed to be the final chapter but I'm enjoying this request so much, there will be one more after this! “Request!!!!! Travis and the reader meet on a club in Vegas they immediately hit it off, as the night continues the enjoy the Vegas strip having fun and once they get to his room travis really shows the reader how much he adores her. Fluff / smut”

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

Your bare shoulders stung in the cool evening air as you bounded out of the casino, clutching at your stomach laughing.

""Woooh" Travis yelled, his fists raised high.

"But isn't the point of going to the casino to win money?" You giggled, "You lost!"

Travis shrugged his shoulders, "Who cares? We had fun, right?"

"You seem pretty relaxed for a guy who just lost $2000."

Travis raised his eyebrows, "Alright, alright, where next?"

Your hands ran along the top of your arms in an attempt to cover them from the cold. Travis noticed and immediately began removing his jacket.

"Here." He said as he draped it over your shoulder.

"Woah, hold up big guy. Is this not a bit too...emotional and romantic?"

His eyes sparkled with the city lights, "Maybe. Look, I know this whole thing was my idea but it's killing me. I think you're awesome, and what's crazy is, I don't even know anything about you."

You leaned slightly closer to him as you walked, "I know. I could be a murderer or something?"

"I'm prepared to take that risk."

You stomach fluttered and there was a comfortable silence, the only sound being your footsteps on the pavement and the sounds of the city.

Suddenly, Travis stopped and turned to you, "Okay. How about we play 20 questions?"

"Is that your idea of getting to know someone?"

"Is that your first question?"

You lowered your head and laughed under your breath.

Travis ghosted his hand over yours for a moment before gently intertwining his fingers with yours, "Come on, it'll be fun."

You looked up at him and exhaled, "Alright, let's do it."

Travis began walking, "Okay, what's your biggest fear?"

"Wow, we're getting straight in with the heavy stuff? Okay." Your skin tingled when you realised he was still holding your hand, "I'd say failure. I have a pretty serious job and I can't drop the ball, like, ever. It's a lot of pressure, but I suppose I thrive on that. I like those moments of all or nothing, you know, the difference between win or lose. But the feeling of the loss is not something I like to feel often. So, I put my all into my career, it comes first for me most of the time. I suppose that's why I never seem to have a stable relationship. No offence, but most guys can't handle it."

Travis smirked and looked down at his feet.

"What?"

He snickered slightly, "No, nothing. Your question."

"If you could have one super-power, what would it be?"

"Oh easy. Either teleportation or super speed."

You playfully nudged his arm, "I said one! You can't have two, that's just greedy!"

"Alright, okay." He paused as he thought for a moment, "I'd have super speed. It would come in really handy."

"Handy with what?" You looked up at him.

Travis held out a finger and waved it in front of your face, "Ah ah, it's my question now. Favourite vacation spot?"

You rolled your eyes and pursed your lips together in thought, "I don't get to go on vacation often, but I went to Bali after college, and it was so beautiful. I've always wanted to go back, as an adult, you know, and appreciate it properly."

Travis nodded, "Okay, yeah. I get it. Good answer." He tightened his grip slightly, "Next question?"

You took a deep breath of evening air, "Why were you so determined to get my on my own tonight when you had dozens of girls crowding around you?"

Travis smiled wide, "Because you were so intriguing. You weren't pawing at me because of who I am or what I do. You genuinely seemed interested, and I like that. You were just out there, having a good time, dancing with your friends and honestly, I can't deal with girls who are only after me because of the fame. I like real connections, you seem real to me. Straight-up, you know?" He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in closer, his lips next to your ear, "And to top it off, you are so beautiful."

Your lips crept into a smile as you walked but you slowed down a little when his words repeated themselves in your head. Your eyebrows lowered in confusion, "Wait, what do you mean because of 'who you are'...what does fame have to do with it."

Travis pulled at your arm, "My question next. Favourite sex position."

Your mouth flew open with a laugh, "Wow, okay. We're going there? Alright, it sounds boring but I like the classics. Missionary is up there at the top for me. I like eye and body contact during sex." You stopped walking and turned to face him, "You know, the feeling of our bodies pressed together, my thighs wrapped around your waist, your mouth on my neck." As you spoke, you got closer to him, lowering your voice into a whisper, "Staring into each others eyes, deep and long kisses, dragging my nails down your back."

You stopped, only inches away from Travis' face as you watched his eyes glaze over and his lips quiver.

He cleared his throat and blinked a couple of times as he opened his mouth to speak, "Uh-"

You quickly turned and took a few steps away from him, "Or bent over with my ass in the air is pretty good too."

Travis' jaw dropped open, "Oh come on, girl. Don't tease me like that!" He jogged to catch up with you, hugging his arms around your waist from behind.

"My question now!" You said happily, "Okay, I gotta know. Who are you? You keep dropping hints about fame and the fact that you had people surrounding you in the club, I don't get it! Who are you?"

Travis chuckled, "So, my name is Travis Kelce." He paused for a reaction but continued when your face didn't change, "And I'm a Tight End for the Kansas City Chiefs."

You turned and stared at him, wide eyed, "I'm really sorry but you just said a lot of things that I don't understand."

He laughed again, "I play football, I'm a football player."

"Oh! Right, yeah. I get it now." You jumped a little as your voice raised, "Wow, okay. That's pretty big."

Travis rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah to be honest, people usually know who I am."

"Yeah, sorry about that! I'm not a big football watcher, I never have time!"

Travis swung his arm around your shoulder, "I like that. Really, it's kinda nice. It's...refreshing." His mouth moved into a smile. "When you said earlier about people expecting a lot from you, experiencing a lot of pressure and not liking to lose...I was laughing because that's exactly how I feel."

Your eyes creased into a smile, "So, you totally get it, then?"

He nodded, "What is it you do?"

You looked up at him, "Is that your next question?"

He narrowed his eyes a little, "Yes."

"I'm a lawyer."

Travis stepped back slightly, "Oh, shit."

"Let me guess, that's scared you off?"

He stroked his beard, pretending to be in deep thought, "This is some serious information. This means I'll never win an argument."

You laughed and grabbed his arms and pulled him back to his previous position, his head resting on your shoulder, "That's right! Okay, my turn. What do you look for in a woman?"

You felt his cheeks move into a smile against your own, "I find ambition very attractive. I love it when a woman knows what she wants, and works hard to get it. I don't know, there's just something so sexy about an independent woman with her shit together. But I don't want someone who takes themselves too seriously, you know? I'm a bit of a class clown so someone who I can laugh with is important."

You felt him tighten his grip and you almost felt yourself melt into his arms. Quickly, you spun in his arms so you were facing him.

"Eyes are a bit of a weak spot for me. If you got a good set of eyes on you, oh baby."

Giggling, you fluttered your eyelashes at him.

Travis bit down on his bottom lip and looked away from you, "Don't man, I'll be a mess."

You stopped walking and moved closer to him, your bodies almost touching, "It's your turn next. What's your next question?"

Travis took a slow breath in and his gaze flickered to your mouth, "I think I know enough."

"Enough for what?"

"For this."

Travis slowly moved in even closer, his eyes fixed on you. Your breath hitched as his lips connected with yours, an intense heat rising in your chest. Your eyes flickered shut and you tilted your head to the side, deepening the kiss. As your hands moved up his body, you teased his tongue with your own, dragging it along his bottom lip. His large hands took hold of your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze as you pushed your body against his. Travis groaned and the vibration on your mouth sent waves down your body. You swore you could feel something pressing against your hip and once you grazed against it, Travis' gentle moan confirmed for you. He quickly moved his kisses down to your neck, smiling against your skin when you threw your head back and gasped. Your hands found themselves at his head, dragging your nails along his buzzed hair. When he pulled away, his glazed eyes blinked in front of you.

"I think I have one more question." His voice was deep and gruff, "Will you come back to my hotel room with me?"

______________________________________________________________

I love flirty Travis! The next chapter will be the final one, where all the smut happens so if you want to be added to my taglist, just let me know!

Taglist @kkrenae @keiva1000

[vic-draws-sometimes]

What Happened.

Another shitty fic completely indulgent to myself. I drew too much and now my arm hurts, so instead I write. Expect more.

Trigger warning for description of gore, only for a sentence.

It had all happened too fast. One second, he was running through empty and abandoned streets, the other he was being thrown on a brick wall, the ringing of an explosion in his ear.  

didn’t know how it happened, when, but something exploded right in front of him. It wouldn’t have been an issue, usually, but his headset got thrown out in the aftershock.  

Suddenly his head was too light, his ears too cold and there were way too much fucking noises. Where were they coming from?  

Where is it?  

Where’s his headset?  

He could hear screams in the distance, explosions, gunshots.  

Finally, after what felt like an hour, but was probably only seconds, he got back on his feet, swaying lightly. He got his bearings, but before he could find his headset, bullets were flying his way, hitting the brick wall he was using as leverage.  

‘’Gotta get out o’ here, first.’’ Easy thing to say, but he didn’t have time to think much. Ghost was an open target here.  

Taking back his sniper, he ran to the closest building. Once under cover, he reached for his radio, only to find it busted, aboslutely destroyed.  

‘’Well, shit.’’ He took it and sent it flying somwhere else, no use in keeping deadweight.  

Ghost looked at his hands, noticing only then the huge tremor... And blood.  

One deep breathe... A second.  

‘’Where are you?’’ he asked himself, but came short of an answer. Where... Was he? He could feel panic seep into his veins, his vision blurry. Each noise that came into his ears interupted his thoughts, disturbed his vision and sent him deeper in confusion.  

‘’Who are you?’’ he asked, this time he was sure he would get an answer.  

Simon...  

No, Ghost. He is Ghost. And Ghost gets the job done.  

Gritting his teeth, he pulled up his gun to aim, deadset or killing anything that crossed his distorded vision.  

It felt like watching someone else doing it, from his own point of view. He didn’t feel his skin, could barely feel the warm blood soaking his gear. Eventually, he could barely hear anything either. It was almost peaceful, if he wasn’t panicking.  

Ghost doesn’t know how long he sat there, shooting, reloading, moving forward. Repeat. His head was empty, as his stare was.  

When he came back to his body, the location had changed, and it was eerly quiet.  

‘’No... Come back...’’ he muttered, touching his skin only to find it cold and unresponsive. Was he dead? He pulled his bloody gloves off, his hands stained red and trembling. He touched his own skin again, scratched it, but couldn’t feel a thing.  

‘’Get back!’’ He took off his helmet, throwing who knows where. His balaclava was next. ‘,Get back, get back. Get back!’’ he said again and again, as he scratched his face and neck, but felt nothing but cold, dead skin.  

He pulled his hair, hit his head, but it didn’t do anything. He was considering hitting it on the cement floor, but he suddenly felt a sharp pain at his waist.  

Felt it...  

Looking down and lifting his layers on clothing, he could see red. Red everywhere, and a hole in his skin. He touched around it and sure enough, felt the pain. Relieved, he touched it again, and cried in pain as he dug his finger in his own flesh.  

His ears buzzed, his whole body reacting and he even felt his arms again as he started feeling dizzy from the loss of blood.  

“...-ost!’’  

Ghost closed his eyes, revelling in the pain.  

‘’Ghost! … Ghost? ‘’  

The voice was clearer, but felt like a dream. He knew it, because so often he would dream of that voice.  

Johnny.  

‘’Simon! Oh sweet God what are you doing?!’’  

Simon? Who is this?  

Slowly, Ghost opened his eyes. He could see the face of Johnny, the rest was a blur.  

‘’Stop it! Are you trying to die?!’’ He sounded panicked as he picked Ghost’s hands away from his wound. Holding them both in one hand, he spoke into his mic.  

‘’Found him, but he’s badly hurt. I’m not sure if he’s conscious. ‘’ Ghost wanted to get back on his feet, tell him he was conscious and totally fine, actually. But he could barely get away from his hold.  

‘’What do you mean you don’t know if he’s conscious? Are his eyes open? Is he responsive?’’ Ghost registered this voice as Price. Oh Price, always so worried...  

‘’Simon? Do you hear me? Look at me, please...’’ Why did Johnny sound so worried? He was fine, now... Was he?  

He nodded once, his head almost dropping.  

‘’Thank God. Stay with me, alright? We’ll get you out of here.’’ He turned on his comm again, this time leaving it on.  

‘’Looks like he loks his headset, explains the silence. He’s got a big wound on the abdomen... Not sure if it’s from a bullet or something else.’’ Soap was on unfamiliar territory, here. Normally he’d be able to tell what sort of wound it is with a look, but with how much Ghost touched it... He can still barely believe what he saw. Why did he do that? Why did he look like that?  

‘’Ask him questions about where and who he is.’’ Price told him, which puzzled him further. Why would Ghost not know where he is? Was he thinking of a concussion?  

‘’Simon? Hey, look at me. Do you know who you are?’’ Ghost looked as much confused as he was, he opened his mouth to speak but didn’t say anything. Then... Shaked his head.  

It took a second for Soap to realize he got an answer. Still, he pressed on.  

‘’Do you know where you are?’’ another shake, and he was feeling panic seep in.  

‘’Simon... Do you know who I am?’’ There was a pause at that, and he heard a faint ‘’John’’ being whispered. 

‘’Soap, what’s going on? Talk to me. ‘’  

‘’He’s confused, sir. He needs a medic right away. He lost a lot of blood. ‘’  

‘’We’ll get you an evac ASAP, give me your location. ‘’ And so he did, and a only a couple of agonizing minutes later a rendez-vous point was established.  

Ghost stayed conscious, amazingly. As conscious as he could be. He was relatively calm on the walk to the meeting site, an open area so the heli could land. Soap had almost his full weight on him, dragging him.  

He set him down to sit against a wall once they reached the location, then tried to put Ghost’s mask on. Only, Ghost wasn’t letting him.  

‘’C’mon, I know you’ll kill me later if I let you show your face to others...’’ But Simon only whined pitifully, pushing him away weakly and trying to escape from him.  

‘’What’s gotten into you...’’ Just as he was about to reach back for the injured man, the sound of the plane approching reached their ears, and Simon reached for Johnny, crying and covering his ears.  

Soap used this opportunity to force the balaclava down, then hugged his Lieutenant against him. The more sounds there were, the more Simon screamed and wailed, trying to hit his head, but Soap was holding him back.  

Medics got down the plane with a bed, and Soap manhandled Ghost on it. He was now trashing around, trying to hit the medics, unfamiliar faces.  

‘’Ghost stop! They’re here to help!’’ Soap said, but it clearly didn’t get throught. He turned his attention to the medics, holding the large man down.  

‘’I don’t know why he’s like that, he’s hurt at the abdomen and needs blood. And... Less sounds.’’ The last part was a guess. He didn’t know what was happening, only knew that he hated seeing his dear Lieutenant in this state.  

In the end, Ghost was given a sedative, and Soap followed him to the base.  

He waited for Ghost to be brought back from surgery, then, waited at his bedside for him to wake up. He had questions, a lot. But mainly, he wanted to know if Simon was alright.  

Just as Johnny was about to doze off, he heard the rustling of the sheets. Simon was awake.  

He quickly took his hand, too cold for his liking, into his own.  

‘’Simon? How do you feel? Do you... Do you know who I am?’’ Johnny asked, hesitant. Simon looked at him for a second longer, studying his face.  

‘’Johnny...’’ His voice was raspy, but Johnny was simply glad to hear it. But it wasn’t all he needed to know. He took a long inhale.  

‘’And... Do you know who you are?’’ This time, it took longer, but he got an answer nontheless.  

‘’Simon Riley... Ghost. Where am I? What happened?’’ Johnny thought he sjould be the one asking this, but he tried to answer anyway.  

‘’At the hosital base. What’s the last thing you remember?’’ His hand didn’t leave his, soothing circles for both Simon and himself.  

‘’We... Dropped off, separated...’’ Simon trailed off, searching his memory.  

‘’I think a grenade was thrown at me?... Lost my headset... I’m not sure after that.’’ That lines up with what the doctor told Johnny. He was about to speak again, but saw tears in Simon’s eyes, his pupils darting from one side to the other. He was in his own head again...  

‘’Hey, look at me. You’re okay now, you’re safe...’’ And that seemingly was what broke the dam, tears fell out quickly as Simon grimaced. He brought Soap’s hand to his face, hiding behind it.  

‘’ ‘m sorry...’’ he whispered.  

‘’You don’t have to apologize for anything, it wasn’t your fault, it...’’  

‘’No.’’  

Johnny’s sentence was interupted. Simon tried to steady his breathe.  

‘’No, I know what happened, I... It happened before. I’m sorry, I was useless. I can’t control it...’’  

Seeing him break down like this... Johnny couldn’t stand it. He stood up only to sit down on the bed, taking Simon’s head to his chest, kissing his forehead.  

‘’I told you, it’s okay. I... I’m sorry I didn’t know, I wish I could’ve helped you...’’. 

They were a mess, crying together and apologizing, holding each other like a pair of scared kids.  

[hexarcana]

@ask-mister-mystery from here

“That’s far enough Jesse.” Stan said, sounding a lot braver than he felt in reality.

He had barely time to react when Aggie had come running at him from out in the woods to hide behind him. He was just about to ask what on earth she was hiding from, when Jesse Stonewall had emerged from the same path Aggie had.

“You got some nerve Pines…” Jesse smirked at him with a yellowed grin before hawking a spitwad at his feet. “I’d almost be impressed, if it weren’t for the fact I beat the crap out of you, every time you do a dumbass thing like this.”

Stan felt for the brass knuckles Olive had gave him in his pants pocket. This was definitely one of those emergency situations she said he could use these in, right?

“Well Pines, you gotta pretty simple choice here. Leave me and my lady friend alone. Or, I beat the ever loving snot out of you, and then I go off with my lady”-

THWACK

Jesse had been so busy smugly running through his gloating little speech, he hadn’t even noticed Stan putting the child-sized brass knuckles on. And then proceeding to somehow land an uppercut on Jesses nose, honestly impressive considering Jesse’s height advantage.

Blood instantly starts pouring from his nose like a faucet. The crack of bone that Stan had just heard makes it pretty obvious that he’s broken his nose.

Jesse dumbly dabs a finger in the stream of blood coming out, looks at it bewilderedly, and then promptly faints.

“Oh crap oh crap oh crap I am so screwed!” Stan said hurriedly, flapping his arms about.

—

Why is she so afraid of a loser like Jesse? What was it about him that made her entire body freeze? It’s getting embarrassing at this point.

She could throw him ten feet, easy. She could probably make all his hair fall out, or if she really REALLY tried, she could probably turn him into a frog. But her magic fails her, her body fails her, she just freezes when he’s around. There’s something in his cold blue eyes that makes her feel sick and powerless, and she hates it.

She’s been on her way to the shack to help the boys with some mystery thing when Jesse has sauntered out from behind the trees where he likely had been hiding. She’d tried to tell him as firmly as possible to leave her alone. He’d taunted her while calling her baby which made her skin crawl.

“What? You gonna get that twerp you hang around with to fight me or something? I’ll take him down just like I always do. If he doesn’t leave you alone, I’ll cave his stupid face in.”

That had made her mad enough to charge him and push him as hard as she could, but her magic failed her and he only stumbled back slightly with a laugh. That’s when she took off running down the path towards the shack. She though maybe I’d she could get there, maybe Mabel would let her hide somewhere or tell Jesse off, then Stan wouldn’t have to fight him. But of course, her friend was waiting in the yard for her like he often did. Her previous plan is forgotten and she runs for him instead, gasping that Jesse was chasing her as she ducked behind Stan, which provided little cover since he was only a bit taller than her. But she couldn’t deny she did feel safer behind him, though that safe feeling is tangling up with her fear of seeing him hurt.

She helplessly tugs on his shirt, hoping he’ll just run with her, but he’s got a new sort of resolve that she can almost feel radiating off of him. She’s rooted to the spot in fear as Jesse advances and she thinks maybe she should scream, surely Mabel of Stanford or maybe even Maria or Dan would hear her and come running but before she can do anything, Stan’s launched himself forward. She’s about to scream for him to stop but then she sees the spurt of blood, hears the sickening crack of something in the bully’s face breaking.

Her hands fly to her mouth, eyes wide as she watched the bloody brute of a boy away on the spot before falling to a heap in the dirt. She looks from the collapsed boy to her friend, finally seeing the brassy bits of metal (now flecked with blood) on his hands.

She stares at Stan, her face drained of all color. She finally drops her hands from her still open mouth to speak when another voice can be heard, shouting as he ran from the front of the shack.

“Stan, Aggie!” Stanford called, “I was watching from the window, wh-“ He skids to a stop. He takes in the sight of his friend standing there as white as a ghost, his twin brother flecked with blood and armed with brass knuckles that’s he’s never seen before, and local bully Jesse Stonewall unconscious and bloodied on the ground.

“Stanley, what did you do?” Stanford voice cracks a bit as he yells, running to his brother and grabbing him by the shoulders, “Where did you get those?!” He looks at Jesse, and looks like he’s about to be sick. “Oh jeez, you didn’t kill him, didja?!”

[randonauticrap]

🥰 ~ with Clavis Lelouch (Christmas Twist!)

Part of the Kiss, Hug, or Cuddle? event

~~~

Pairing ~ Clavis Lelouch x Reader

Word Count ~ 1938

Author's Note ~ I have no idea what happened, but I got sooo carried away with this one. Thank you for the request, Mary Ellen (@rhodolitesrose)! It was a joy to write, and I hope you enjoy it!

Christmas twist: keeping each other warm

-

You much preferred your room; quiet, peaceful, and beautiful. The window sill in your room at the palace was big enough for you to sit in, perched on the precipice between the inside and outside worlds, with only a thin veil of glass separating you. Sometimes, like in the current winter chill, you breached the wall of glass and pushed one side open, letting the crisp breeze of the night air reach your legs under the blanket. It was snowing, everything was frozen, even you. But that didn’t stop you from letting the fine, ephemeral flakes swirl into your bedroom before hitting your blanket; the carpet; the bed; and sticking, then slowly melting into nonexistence. Snow was a beauty you didn’t get to see often, and if getting to see its beauty up close meant freezing your limbs, so be it. 

A soft knock at your door pulled you from your reverence and you padded, sock-footed, over to the door and opened it to reveal a certain plum-haired prince in your doorway. “Good evening, Clavis.” you gathered him in your gaze, searching for any obvious clues as to why he had arrived here like a lost puppy at some poor unwitting woman’s doorstep.

“I couldn’t help but notice, my lady, that you have your window open despite it being unbearably cold outside.” Mischief glinted in his eyes and you stepped back involuntarily. 

“I do, yes.” you replied hesitantly. “Were you watching me from the garden?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, taking the space between you as a sudden invitation to cross the threshold, and strolled over to said open window. “But what’s the point if you can’t sprawl out in it, am I right? Tsk tsk.” he chided, the ghost of a smile haunting the faux disappointment on his face. 

Whereas normally yours and Clavis’s ideas of fun were vastly different, you couldn’t help but agree with him here, and let out a soft sigh. “Sariel would kill me. It’d be too easy for me to get sick and fall behind in my studies.” 

“Well then, little kitten.” Clavis turned abruptly to face you. “Isn’t it just perfect that Sariel isn’t here right now?” 

“You know he has eyes everywhere, Clavis.” you admonished.

The 3rd Prince’s grin widened into that Cheshire smile you were so used to seeing blooming on his lips. “Not in the places I know about. Come on! We’re gonna have some fun tonight, and Mr. Grumpypants will be none the wiser.” Before you could even consider disagreeing, your hand was folded in Clavis’s and he was tugging you out the door. 

You should have been rolling your eyes; you should have been concerned about what Clavis was up to; you should have missed the novel you had left discarded on your window sill. But all you could think about, as a blush crawled its way up your neck and face, is how soft Clavis’s hand felt as he laced his fingers with yours, and how your heart lurched at the idea of him letting go. 

Squeezing through a cabinet in the kitchens, down back stairs that had no flames to light their descent, through a small alleyway between two of the palace towers, and down into the courtyard below, Clavis led you, taking care to keep you upright and unharmed. “It would ruin the fun if we had a blood trail,” he had said, but a small piece of you hoped he simply wanted to keep you from getting hurt. You yelped in surprise when he lifted you off your feet and settled you into his arms, bridle-style. 

“Shhh!” he chuckled softly. “Don’t wake the guards. The Devil will really have our heads then!” he was chastising you, but there was mirth in his gaze, and you tucked your head in his neck to keep from giggling foolishly. 

“So why are you carrying me?” you whispered into the warm skin of his neck.

“This way, there’s only one set of footsteps leading out of the castle, not two. No incriminating evidence of you disobeying orders, milady. Just me.” you could feel his triumphant grin without even looking at him, and snuggled closer to his chest. 

“And you’re okay with that?” you whispered again.

“Of course!” he replied under his breath. “I am an expert at evading the Devil’s wrath.” 

“And what of your secret passageway? It’s practically ruined now.” you murmured, almost feeling guilty at the absurd notion.

“I have plenty.” came his simple reply, and your guilt vanished instantaneously. Of course he did. After several moments where you heard nothing but the crunch of Clavis’s shoes in the snow and the consistent beat of his heart against your ear, you reached a secluded part of the garden that he had shown you once before, in the spring. The wrought iron gate was decorated in a collection of icy flakes, making it sparkle and shimmer in the pale moonlight. Even in the winter, this tiny corner was ripped straight from the pages of a fairytale. You had every intention of walking in yourself, but Clavis made no moves to put you down as he fiddled with the key in the lock to the gate, merely shifting you so he could hold you with one arm instead of two. 

Your giggle finally escaped your lips and you clapped your hands over your mouth, until you looked down at Clavis, who had ceased in his war with the gate and was gazing up at you with- no, it couldn’t be, could it? Your hands lowered from your face absentmindedly, gravity returning them to where they belonged. Clavis’s smile was no longer that of an unruly wildcat, but of an arduous lover, and suddenly this rendezvous felt forbidden in a different way entirely. A clank beside you pulled his gaze from you at last, and he cast his eyes down at the lock that had haplessly fallen from the gate. “Shoddy piece of rubbish,” he mused, shaking his head. 

A moment later he had whisked you inside and closed the gate behind you, setting you down with a distinct crunch as your sock feet collided with the wet snow. “Ah!” you yelped at the stinging cold and hopped over to the bench in the center of the alcove, brushing the mound of snow away and sitting down, much preferring your rear to freeze than your feet. Clavis laughed, trudging over to you. 

“What a show you always give me,” he muttered, a tender smile on his face as he pulled a pair of slippers from his coat. 

“How did you-?” you muttered.

“I wasn’t planning on letting you say no.” he grinned up at you as he bent in front of you and took your foot into his hand, eliciting a surprised gasp from you. Winking, he slipped the shoes onto your feet and shrugged off his cloak, wrapping it around your shoulders instead and tying it at the base of your throat. It was warm, and smelled like him: lavender with a hint of cinnamon that drew you to close your eyes and absorb it without any other sensory distraction. When you opened your eyes, he was leveling you with that look again; the look that stoked a fire inside of you, hot enough to burn away the remnants of the chill.

“Clavis-”

“How do you like the snow?” His sudden and sharp change of pace threw you out of orbit and you sputtered for a moment, unsure of what to say. 

“I- uhm, it’s beautiful. Thank you for bringing me out here.” you replied, at last forming a coherent sentence. 

“Good, I’m glad you like it.” he turned away from you, as though he were admiring something within the bushes, then he bent low like he was examining something. 

“Clavis, what are you- ah!” you screeched as a splat of something distinctly cold and wet hit your cheek. Upon recovery, you realized that Clavis had flung a snowball at you, and was now grinning cheekily at you from where he stood. Once the shock wore off, you began to laugh; an unruly, unfettered laugh that very well could have carried on the wind to the palace guards. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, because you were already picking up a snowball of your own to hurl back at the 3rd Prince, who livened up immediately once he was sure the game was on. 

Snow was volleyed back and forth, defensive walls were made, and laughs exchanged. The snow had long since ceased its descent from the sky by the time the white flag was raised, and you were a mess of wet snow and incessant giggles. You met Clavis in the middle of the alcove and shook his hand in mutual surrender, then the prince burst into laughter too. “Alright, let’s get you inside before you catch your death - or I catch mine.” he said with a more serious tone. You nodded, remembering his weak constitution, and let him lead you back to the gate. But before he exited, he turned, holding his arms out. “No evidence, remember?” he smirked and you tittered, nodding. He hoisted you into his arms once more and you laid your head against his chest without even thinking. You heard his melodic chuckle above you and you realized what you had done. Despite the fact that your cheeks were burning, and not from the cold, you didn’t move. You laid against him willingly the whole way back to the castle, snuggling as close to his damp skin as his clothes would allow. 

Once you were back at the door to your room, he made a little mockish bow. “Milady,” he said curtly and turned to leave. But your hand shot out without warning even you, and your fingers curled around his bicep. He turned to look at you, surprise written in his shadow-cast features.

“Do- do you want to warm up?” you asked sheepishly. “I can light the fire in here. It gets warm pretty fast.” A beat of silence. Two. Perhaps you were mistaken? Perhaps the heat between you was yours alone. You loosened your grip on his arm and pulled your own back to your body, subconsciously curling into yourself. “I apologize. I crossed a line. Goodnight Pr-” but before you could even finish the word, he had pressed up against you, pushing you to step back until he stood in the room with you. 

“I’d love to.” he murmured softly, tracing your features with his perceptive gold eyes. “Warm up.” he added, his voice barely above a whisper, and your heart began to race.

“Okay,” you replied, a small smile catching your lips up in your heart’s erratic hoping.

That is how the night ended with a roaring fire in your fireplace, and two bodies tangled closely together under the covers of your bed, fingers tracing every available inch of skin with reverence and vulnerability, and lips gracing lips with unspoken words of ardor and desire. The cold had melted away in the arms of the man that never failed to make you smile, and you snuggled impossibly closer to him, your heart swelling when he beat the odds of pulling you in even more, his hand crawling under your nightshirt to splay his palm against your back, his touch as smoldering as his eyes before they closed so he could kiss you again. You sighed, relinquishing your will in the long battle against sleep, and drifted into a world where no number of beautiful dreams could possibly contend with your reality in Clavis’s arms.  

~

[alolanrain]

Ta!au HC’s but their more focused on Rowan bc I love his old ass in this au to much

\ if he had to pick a favorite kid between Gary, Ash and Dawn it would be Gary without hesitation. he was the first scrappy little Buizel, a nickname he only ever calls Gary in his head, Rowan willingly brought home. 

\ he wasn’t to pleased when Councilman Kyubi from Unova and Regi, human Kyurem and Regigigas respectfully, showed up at his door at ass o’clock in the morning. Ash and Pikachu, beaten and bruise with noticeable dashes of dried blood on the collar of the kids shirt, looked so pathetic standing between the two adults. swaying on his feet and looking like both he and his partner were about to drop from exhaustion. 

\ Gary saw and snatched Ash right up before Rowan could turn the three away, because being a babysitter is not his problem. Gary works for him for Arceus sake, he can’t get away from the brunette even if he tried. though the Professors steely marine strength resolve dissipated when he saw just how heavily Ash leaned into Gary after the door was closed. 

\ Rowan refers to Ash as a short circuited Rotom in his head. Dawn is the only one who gets the verbal nickname of Shinx, she totally doesn’t rub it into Gary and Ash’s face when Rowans not around. 

\ is actually really sentimental, it’s the old age, and Ingo gets the brunt of it when they officially start dating. 

\  “My shining Gallade” get’s used pretty often along with “Sneaky Zoroark” when he finds Ingo sneaking down the halls to get a midnight snack or to sneak into his office when Rowans working on paperwork to try and steal his attention. 

\ big on words of affirmation, those come easy to both the kids and his assistants. it’s one of the main reasons why it’s so hard to be accepted to be apart of his small group of lab assistants because the man doesn’t trust easy and an open spot is fought over so hard in the science community. 

\ doesn’t give touches a lot, saves the act for when he’s being really sentimental over someone or something, but likes to receive. never flinches away when the kids lean in on him during the early hours of the mornings-when the nightmares are still a little to fresh and they needed just a little bit of support-or when Ingo places a hand on some part of his neck to get Rowan’s attention. 

\ Ingo constantly has cold long bony fingers, seemingly no matter what the weather is like, and Emmet used to hate it when he touched him with them. the kids always flinch away and whine when he teasingly dances the tips of his fingers along the back of their neck when their zoning out or hyper focused on something. he can’t for the life of him make Rowan flinch away. the Professor always leans into the touch regardless if Ingo’s hand was incased in a bowl of icy cold water just mere seconds before. 

\ Ingo naturally just cold as shit and he wasn’t like this before Hisui so it’s definitely a post-thing. like he ran cold-ish for a human being but now it’s like he’s almost constantly covered in ice and snow. he didn’t notice it back in Hisui, when Ash and Dawn repeatedly pointed it out while dancing out of his grip during their sparring but it hinders him a lot now that he’s back in the present time. 

\ Rowan, Gary and Ash naturally carry hand warmers since Sinnoh’s cold and Ash and Rowan’s bones have taken their fair share of beatings but the whole squad takes it upon themselves to always have at least two ones ready and waiting to go incase Ingo suddenly needs them

\ not like Ingo doesn’t already have four in his sweater pockets already. 

\ Sandgem Town quickly becomes the new hot spot of Legendary’s and the two residents just look at what's going on, notices they stick around Rowans house, and decides it’s not worth it to brother the Professor. heading back inside like they were just checking the weather outside. 

\ Gary cooks, Rowan grills/barbecues, Ash bakes, Ingo is good at frying stuff and Dawn tops it all off by making some mean salads with hand made dressings. they try their best to have a somewhat family dinner but since all five of their schedules are so wacked in ways they have to coordinate who’s going to be home or not. 

\ Rowan and Ingo prefer Kalosian based food the best. pasta or a small charcutiery board of prosciutto, kalosian creamy cheese’s like brie, crackers and fruits. both are so used to snacking throughout the day that if their working on paperwork together in Rowans office the older man will make a board so they can eat through it. it seems to make the time fly easier when they do. 

\ Gary is a spice-olic. it seems no plate is spicy enough for him. always offers Ash a bite no matter how hot it is because Ash is a damn foodie and eat it regardless. Rowan always sighs deeply when their out and about in restaurants because Ash will no doubt make a scene. 

\ Ash loves Kantonian food, even though he has very little spice tolerance, but if he had to chose his ultimate favorite food it would have to be extra crispy, thick crust, deep fried imitated-Combusken. he’s had real deep fried Combusken before but prefers the vegan option because the texture of the ‘meat’ is better in his opinion.

\ it’s not like he didn’t feel guilting thinking about May’s Blaziken when he tried it for the first time. 

\ oddly enough that’s not Ash’s favorite part of the dish. it’s just the skin and breading. he will literally leave the ‘meat’ alone and just eat the outer layer of breading and be happy. Ingo is trying to perfect it so Ash doesn’t waste to much money buying the whole thing meal, even if Gary and Dawn happily eat the ‘meat’ part with out Ash having to ask them, but he’s failing horribly since it’s hard to cut the skin off without cooking it. 

\ Dawn has no spice level and actively refuses any bite of spicy-shit that Gary offers. she knows what she likes and sticks to her comfort foods, even if the majority of her diet is junk foods like chips and candy besides the salad she eats every other day. 

\ both Ingo and Ash don’t use phones. Ash because he just doesn’t want to and doesn’t really see the point since he can call people on his pokedex. Ingo because he’s taking a break from the majority of electronics, since he’s been around Lord Electrode Ingo can now hear the electricity running through the house and the lab. 

\ it’s not uncommon for the others to find Ingo reading a book next to a lit flame instead of having the lights on. Ash and Rowan can easily navigate through the dark, Gary just uses the glow of Umbreons rings to watch out where he’s stepping and Dawn just uses the flash on her phone but turned down to the lowest setting. 

\ it’s weird to the other professor’s how easily Rowan can share his space with the four and his more long standing assistants but not his fellow colleagues. it’s a trust thing that he picked up in the Corps and it just stuck. 

\ when Ash is gone and Dawn is off with Barry and Zoey, silence over takes the house. besides the odd argument with Oak over the phone or video feed and the way Professor Magnolia and Birch just talks loud in general there’s rarely any continuous loud noises. it does change when Ash is finally able to transfer all his Pokémon from Oaks ranch to Rowans care, Charizard and Swellow are loud motherfuckers in the morning, but not by much as the majority of his Pokemon enjoy the silence or go scream in the woods that boarder the back of Rowans large backyard. 

[feverflushed]

i would like to know more about the mobility aid whump !

Alright!

Disclaimer: Please notice that I'm going to talk only from personal experience, so what I'm saying might not apply to everyone!

(For context! My condition is characterised by extremely frequent and painful dislocations, so my aids aim mostly to avoid that or to give me the time and stability needed to recover from bad dislocations! Aside from wearing braces daily, and from these acute episode recovery times, I live a very active life, so the issues I've encountered are radically different from someone with a SCI, for example.)

Now, let's get straight into the whump (on top of the whump your poor fave is already experiencing):

-Braces: Fantastic, fantastic invention. They make everything easier, but can be awful if they're not used carefully. Personally, I wear AFOS, (they basically keep your ankles in place and prevent things like foot drop, therefore reducing the likelyhood of tripping on your own feet). Now, here's the issue. Shorts are a terrible idea. When it's really hot and you want to wear shorts and you're planning to go for a walk, the only way to prevent chafing your shins to the point of bleeding is wearing knee high socks. 🥲

Same thing goes for all rigid braces that come in contact directly with the skin, like knee braces and rigid corsets.

And while braces can help a lot with stability, if used improperly they can lead to issues like atrophy.

Also, not whump, but honorable mention for finger splints. The metal ones are sooo comfy and make your character look extra badass. Just saying.

-Canes/crutches: Blisters, blisters, blisters. Blisters and tendinitis to no end. When canes are used only for balance, it's not a huge issue, but if you have to put pressure on them (this applies more to crutches than canes tbh), you tend to get blisters all over your hands and tendinitis in your wrists. Especially with crappy hospital crutches. That's why most long term users tend to have their own customized aids. It's a game changer, honestly.

Also consider. A character who faints often using canes to give themselves enough stability to safely get to the ground instead of faceplanting.

Last thing: perpetually cold fingers during the winter.

-Wheelchairs: This only applies to manual wheelchairs. I know nothing about electric ones.

Hospital wheelchairs, once again, are terrible. They will most definitely give you terrible sores on your palms from propelling yourself. The pushrims BURN your skin if you only think of doing sudden movements. They're heavy, bulky, get stuck everywhere, and there's an extra chance of ruining your furniture. 😮‍💨

Active/custom wheelchairs, on the other hand are a whole other universe. They're tailored to the user's needs, they are ultra light and compact, and super easy to maneuver, and you can actually do wheelies in them to roll over obstacles or difficult terrains (unlike hospital chairs). However, this makes them less stable and a higher fall risk.

Not to mention the perpetually frozen fingers during the winter months (hello frostbite!).

Due to inactivity, a whumpee in a wheelchair is more likely to feel cold, and to develope atrophy and muscular issues. Not to mention, wearing and tearing of arm/shoulder joints and contracture of the shoulders and back from the constant self propelling.

Not to mention, pressure sores! That's pure hell to put your whumpee through, and potentially dangerous!

[clarepreed]

Micro Story: Caffeine

Story Content and Summary - 1,132 words. No resus. A gentle, first-person POV story about a reaction to coffee. Written gender neutral. Hurt/comfort. 🏳️‍🌈

--

“Are you all right?”

You raise your eyebrows at me, watching as I sit slumped at the breakfast table. I have a headache, the kind that feels like approaching summer storms.

“I’m getting a migraine.” My voice is embarrassing in its pitifulness.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You hover, unsure if you should touch me. Sometimes the migraines make my skin hurt. “What can I do for you? Want a glass of water?”

“Water would be good…” I close my eyes and grind the lids with the heels of my hands. “Actually, can I have some of your coffee?”

In this household, we keep caffeinated coffee, which you mostly drink, and decaffeinated coffee, which is all for me.

I hear the silence of your hesitation before you ask: “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it might help my head.” I drop my hands and give you a wobbly smile to reassure you. You nod and offer me your own tentative grin. Making coffee is something you can do to help. You like feeling useful, and I so often have problems you can’t solve.

Soon, I have a hot cup of drip in my hands, smoothed out with a splash of half-and-half. Caffeinated coffee is good; decaf beans aren’t always easy to find, and I miss the variety of roasts available to people who can tolerate caffeine.

“Want some toast or eggs with that?” you ask.

“Both.” I am confident I’ll be hungry when my head feels better, and I know coffee on an empty stomach isn’t the best idea.

You are kind and make us breakfast, and by the time it’s ready I feel like eating. I go on to get cleaned up for the day, feeling better and better as the minutes tick by. On the agenda: Work in the backyard until it rains or it’s time for lunch. Don’t get sunburned. My headache fades until it’s nothing but smoke on the horizon, and I pull on some yard clothes and follow you outside.

I make it an hour.

The problem starts with a fluttering sensation in my chest. I think at first I have indigestion, but then I stand up from my crouch by the flower bed. A cold sweat breaks out across my forehead, and I sway. You have your back to me, so you don’t see me wavering on my feet. What you notice instead is that I’ve suddenly gone silent, my chatter terminating mid-sentence.

“Are you all right?” The same question as before. I’m standing in the yard with my hand pressed to my stomach, hoping the lightheadedness and nausea will pass.

The fluttering in my chest worsens, and I identify the sensation as palpitations. I wonder if I can catch my pulse rate on my watch without alerting you, but it’s too late. You are already up and headed in my direction, evidently seeing something concerning in my sweaty face.

I shiver, even though it’s already in the eighties at this early hour, and you take my arm.

“Come sit down.” You pull me toward the patio furniture. I follow. My legs feel insubstantial. 

The fluttering in my chest increases pace until it feels like hammering, and I’m breathing fast. I let you ease me into a chair, watch as you crouch in front of me, trying to judge my condition by the look on my face. Your hand reaches out, cups the clammy skin of my cheek.

“Do you feel faint? You look pale.”

I nod, breathless now. I just want to feel better. 

“My heart,” I pant, hurriedly continuing when I see a look of alarm pass over your face. “My heart’s beating really fast. I shouldn’t have had that coffee.”

You nod, relaxing just a bit. You look more sympathetic than anything else, and you don’t chastise me. No “I told you so,” or “You always do this.” You are, above all else, kind.

Your fingers move from my face to my neck, pressing against my carotid. I watch your face grow distant as you concentrate, then frown. “Can you stand? I want to get you inside, out of the sun. I can get that pulse oximeter we bought for COVID.”

I start to rise, but you stop me with a hand on the center of my chest. “Hey! Go slow. You don’t have chest pains, do you?”

“No.” It’s the truth, but at this point I’m frightened and my lips tremble. You can tell I’m still unsteady on my feet as we rise together, so you keep hold of my arm and lead me inside. The world around me cants and wheels lazily. I wonder if I’m going to vomit.

The air indoors is crisp, and you set me down on the sofa. I try to fold over and put my head between my knees, but then I can’t breathe, so I have to push myself upright. I’m quickly losing control of myself, my own breathy gasps loud in my ears.

I hardly notice that you’ve gone anywhere when you’re back, carrying your phone and a glass of water and the promised pulse ox. 

“Hey,” you say, clipping the little white clamp on my damp index finger. “Try to slow your breathing. You’re going to be okay.”

I close my eyes and lean against the back of the sofa. You have your hands on my legs, rubbing my thighs as you encourage me to calm down.

“Your heart rate is pretty high,” you say, “but if you can take some deep breaths, I don’t think I have to call an ambulance.”

“How high?”

“Don’t worry about the number. Just take a deep breath. In… out… in… out…”

My hands are shaking. Hell, my entire body is shaking. If this goes on much longer, I’m going to cry.

“Just keep breathing.” Your voice is soothing. “You’re okay. In… out…”

I try to match your pace, relaxing my body against the upholstery.

“It’s already helping,” you reassure me. “You’re doing such a good job.”

Another moment passes and you climb to your feet and sit down on the sofa. My eyes are still closed, but I feel your arm come around my shoulders. You adjust my hand so that you can still read the pulse oximeter, then reach up to trail your fingers down my sweaty cheek.

“In, and out…”

It’s getting easier to breathe, so I lean against you, relaxing into the soothing nature of your touch. 

“You’ll be back to normal before you know it,” you murmur. Your hand moves to my hair, smoothing it back from my face.

My trembling quiets, and I draw an easy breath.

“Good.” Your voice remains low-pitched and gentle. “You can just sit here with me for a while and relax, okay? We have all the time in the world.”

[amberthefantasy]

'Neath Moon and Star

Chapter 15: Prophecy

Naris took a break for the rest of the day, finally having a peaceful sleep that night as well. There was just one more councillor to get the endorsement of before he could officially be nominated to the council. He had never met Miner Arobar before, he was a younger council member, and often kept to himself in his rooms. Rooms that Naris was now walking towards. 

The manor guards eyed him as he passed them but didn't try and stop his progress towards the room where the councillor was. When Naris opened the door, he instantly knew something was wrong. Lord Arobar was standing tensely next to a desk, reading over some letter. "Lord Arobar?" Naris said.

Lord Arobar froze and looked towards him. "House Father... Athyn told me you would come." He swallowed. "And I am sorry... I respect what you have done, but I cannot give you my support."

"What?" Naris gasped.

"That is all I will say," Lord Arobar grit out. "Please leave."

"Ahh... I feared this would happen," Lord Sarethi sighed. "I have heard whispers."

"What whispers?" Naris asked, leaning against the wall.

"There are rumours," Lord Sarethi leant forward and entwined his fingers. "That Master Neloth, the Telvanni  councillor, is holding one of Miner's daughters hostage."

"Hostage..." Naris sighed. "And I suppose that means he will not name a new councillor until he has his daughter back?"

"I imagine not," Lord Sarethi grimaced. "Master Neloth's tower is in Sadrith Mora... if you could get his daughter back."

Naris rolled his head. "I'll be back soon."

Sadrith Mora was cold today. Naris shivered and pulled his cloak closer around himself. The mushroom tower where the Telvanni would be was hard to miss and Naris took a moment to plan his rescue before actually going towards it. The Telvanni did not guard their towers as heavily as Redoran did their manors, probably due to arrogance, but he didn't suppose it would be easy to rescue a hostage. He fiddled with his bag for a moment before the obvious answer struck and he dug around in the bag for his Amulet of Shadows. Perfect

Naris slipped silently into the tower. Following the hallway towards the main room. There right in the centre as if nothing was off, was a dunmer surrounded by guards. There were two ways to do this, either just cut through them... or try and sneak the amulet to the hostage. Naris creeped around the room, looking for a way in, when he locked eyes with Arobar's daughter.

Her eyes widened. Naris slowly shook his head and she schooled her expression. 'I'll try and slip this across the floor.' Naris mouthed, hanging the amulet from his fingers. Her eyes narrowed for a second before she nodded slightly in understanding. Naris took a breath, he was terrible as mysticism, but a concealment spell might be helpful here. The hostage sat slowly, acting as if her legs were tired before giving another slight nod. Naris let out his breath, and pushed the amulet across the ground.

It slipped between the guard's feet and right into the other dunmer's waiting hand. Naris closed his eyes in relief and slowly began to back out of the room. Hoping to be gone before the guards could notice him and try to blame him for the coming escape. 

Thankfully, Naris managed to get out before she did. He waited in the shadows beside the tower for her to emerge. "Hello?" A voice whispered from behind him.

Naris jumped, hand going to his sword before he relaxed at the sight of the prisoner. "Hello."

"I believe this is yours?" She said, holding out his amulet. "Thank you. I am Nartise Arobar."

"I am Naris Indarys," Naris introduced. "Let's get you home."

Nartise only wanted an escort to the docks it turned out, but she gave him her necklace to show her father she was safe. Naris just hoped it would be enough, as he once again entered the councilman's office. "You came back," Lord Arobar said dryly.

"I did," Naris confirmed. "And I have something for you." He held out the necklace.

Lord Arobar's eyes widened and he stood from his chair so quickly that it fell backwards. He grabbed the necklace from Naris. "This is-"

"-Nartise's, she gave it to me after I rescued her from Neloth."

"You..." Lord Arobar straightened. "You have rescued my daughter?" He licked his lips. "I must apologise for the way I treated you. I will gladly offer my support to make you a Councilman." Lord Arobar then turned and took something from his desk. "Please take this amulet as a sign of my support."

---

Athyn was pleased beyond measure, he had given Naris one final task to complete before the council could vote. Ask Galsu what she needed to finish the stronghold. She was, as always, in her room. "Father Naris," she greeted with a bow. "I am ready to give you a stronghold fit for a House Redoran Councilor." She smiled. "But first you must speak with Hetman Guls at your stronghold. Ask him if all is going well. Here is a map, it shows exactly where the stronghold is." Naris took the map with a smile.

Ryna narrowed her eyes at the map. "We could walk..." she said, her voice distant.

"You seem to have another idea though," Naris noted.

"I just learnt a new teleportation spell!" Ryna smiled. "I could try it out."

"What happens if you fail?" Naris asked suspiciously.

"Nothing too bad," Ryna inisted. "We might just be off course, is all." Naris sighed, but held out his hand anyway.

Hetman Guls was a respectful mer. He bowed deeply when he saw Naris and introduced himself. "Muthsera, a pleasure."

"All is well here?" Naris asked, glancing around as the manor that had grown up in the ashy hills.

"Yes," the Hetman nodded, then winced. "Well... there is one issue."

"Yes?"

"We are happy here, but the town would prosper if there were more women. Most men here are single and need wives," he explained.

"Wives?" Naris asked. "Can they not find them themselves?"

"They could," Hetman Guls nodded. "We have no idea where to find them however."

"I heard some whispers," Ryna cut in. "That some of the mer in the Suran pleasure houses wish to retire. You could start there."

Hetman Guls cocked his head, "a wise idea. We shall try it."

Naris smiled at his friend. "That was the only issue?"

"Yes muthsera," Guls nodded. "We shall be finished soon."

---

Galsu was pleased and told Naris to return in a few days. To pass the time he decided to return to Balmora and visit Caius again. Since Caius knew about Ryna now, she accompanied him all the way to his house and inside it. "Caius? I'm cured." Naris said.

Caius looked up from where he was seated on the edge of his bed, reading over a note. "Naris," his voice was grave and Naris felt his brow crease. "I'm very happy you've been cured," he grimaced. "Unfortunately, I've had a bit of bad news. I've been recalled to the Imperial City."

"What?" Naris gaped. "What do I do then?"

"You'll be promoted to Operative, and will head the Blades here in Vvardenfell until I return. I've only waited here to give you your final orders before I go," Caius swallowed. "Continue pursuing the Nerevarine prophecies, as the Emperor commands. First, go to the Hall of Wisdom and Justice, and get Mehra Milo to help you find the lost prophecies. Then take the lost prophecies to Nibani Maesa. From that point, you'll have to follow her directions, and follow the prophecies. Good luck." Caius stood, and left without another word.

---

"She should be here," Ryna said, glancing around the hall. It was the first time either of them had spoken since Balmora. Both still in shock from the sudden departure of Caius, and unable to voice whatever they were thinking. "Maybe she's out?"

"We should check her rooms," Naris said softly. "She mentioned being watched, something might have happened to her." Ryna nodded in agreement and the two left as quietly as they could.

They slowly crept into the personal quarters and looked around for any hint at where Mehra's might be. "There are names on these," Ryna whispered. "Look!" She pointed to the doorframe next to them. "In daedric, it says Ilvel."

Naris narrowed his eyes and managed to make out the writing, "so we find the door with her name." He began to walk slowly forward, stopping to read every door. "Here!" He exclaimed quietly, pointing to a door. "Mehra."

"Let me see," Ryna said. She stepped closer and placed her hand gently on the handle. "Locked." She tightened her grip and Naris saw her hand glow slightly before she looked up with a smirk. "Unlocked." Naris rolled his eyes at her smug expression and pushed past to open the door.

There was no one inside, but his eyes quickly landed on a piece of parchment on the dresser. Naris picked it up then winced as he read the words. Then read them aloud to Ryna.

Amaya,

Sorry I missed you. I had to run some old documents over to the Inquisitor at the Ministry of Truth, and I'm likely to be tied up there for a while. Why don't you meet me there as soon as you can? Then we can leave together as soon as I'm done. And Amaya, don't forget to bring me the two Divine Intervention scrolls you borrowed. Or, if you used them, buy a couple of new ones for me. I think I'm going to need them soon. Alvela Saram is the guard at the entrance; just tell her you're looking for me, and she'll let you in.

your faithful friend, Mehra

"Divine intervention," Ryna repeated. "She's been arrested."

"I gathered that," Naris said, then winced in his own tone. "Sorry. So I need to rescue her then?"

"I suppose so," Ryna sighed. "You're the one with the Amulet of Shadows."

"Right, but I don't have a divine-"

"Oh right!" Ryna cut him off. "I was meaning to give you this." She reached into her pack and pulled out two amulets. "I got two divine intervention amulets for cheap the other day." She held them out for Naris. "Take them both for now."

"Thanks," Naris smiled as he took them. "I'll meet you back at Caius' after I free her." Ryna gave a sharp nod.

Naris luckily did have some levitation potion left, so with his Amulet of Shadows activated, he managed to get up the Ministry of Truth with no issues. That was until he reached the entrance. A guard stood there. Naris guessed this was Alvela Saram and deactivated his amulet, stepping closer.

"Halt!" Alvela called. "I'm sorry. No pilgrims allowed in the Ministry. I'll have to ask you to leave... but... you're not here to visit anyone, are you?"

"I am," Naris gave a tight smile. "I'm here to visit Mehra Milo."

"Mehra said you would come," she nodded. "I'll say you subdued me with magic and stole my key. It opens all three exterior doors. Mehra is in Prison Keep in the cell on the far right. She said you'd bring scrolls to get out."

"I have them," Naris nodded. 

"Some of us are sympathetic to the Dissident priests, but kill an Ordinator, and you'll lose that sympathy," Alvela warned. "Here's the key to the entrance. Now get going."

Naris snuck through the prison, sticking to the shadows as best he could and trying not to use up the enchantment on the amulet by keeping it activated the whole time. Luckily, the locking spells on the doors were weak and he was able to bust through them with no problems. He soon found himself in the back half of the prison, directly in front of the cells where Mehra should be. The lock on it was just as weak as the rest and Naris got inside without trouble.

Mehra was standing by the back of the cell, her eyes searching the room where the door was. Naris closed it quickly behind him and let go of the amulet. "Naris!" Mehra smiled. "Thank the three."

"Hello Mehra, I got your note," Naris smirked.

"Now, listen. Here's my plan." Mehra said softly. "Give me a Divine Intervention scroll. I'll meet you at the secret Dissident priests monastery at Holamayan. For safety, we'll travel separately...." she trailed off, holding out her hand.

Naris smirked and took out the amulet instead. "I have even better than a single-use scroll."

Mehra grinned, "thank you." She slipped the amulet on. "When you get out of here, look for a woman named Blatta Hateria on the East Docks of Ebonheart. Tell her I sent you, and that you want to 'go fishing.' She'll bring you to Holamayan by boat. I'll meet you there, and we'll get the lost prophecies from Gilvas Barelo, the leader of the Dissident priests. And magic conceals the Holamayan entrance, you'll need to speak to the priest as the dock about it." Then she disappeared in a swirl of magic.

---

Divine intervention felt similar to other forms of teleportation, though lighter. Naris appeared in the middle of Ebonheart, by the temple of course, which meant finding the docks was easy. He walked along them, asking around for Blatta Hateria. Eventually he found her. "I'm Blatta Hateria. Do I know you?"

"No uhh... Mehra Milo sent me," Naris explained. "I would like to go fishing."

Her eyes sparked with understanding. "Of course, please get on board."

Holamayan was beautiful in dusk’s light. Was Naris' first thought as he thanked Blatta and began his trip up the rocks. "Greetings friend," a dunmer called from the top of a hill. "I'm Vevrana Aryon, a monk of Holamayan. Take the stone pathway north from the docks and the path uphill. You arrived as the perfect time as the entrance only opens at dawn or dusk," she smiled. "Mehra Milo has told us of your coming. You can find her in the library with Master Barelo."

"Thank you," Naris said with a smile as he passed her.

The hill wasn't too steep and Naris found the walk to the entrance easy. It was made of pretty stone that glittered with magic. Naris pressed it lightly and was shocked at how easily it opened. There were people milling about inside and some paused to look at him. "You must be Naris Indarys," one said. "Mehra and Master Barelo are in there." He pointed to a room to the side. Naris gave a soft thanks and entered the room.

Mehra was there, speaking with a male dunmer who must be Master Barelo. "Naris!" Mehra smiled brightly. "You made it, great! This is Master Barelo, leader of the Dissident Priests."

"A pleasure," Naris gave a bow.

"Thank you for saving Mehra," Master Barelo smiled. "You are very welcome here. I understand however that you are not just here for leisure." It was a statement, but it felt like a question.

"No..." Naris sighed. "An ashlander wise woman has asked for any knowledge about prophecies lost to time that you may have."

"Prophecies," Master Barelo repeated. "Nerevarine prophecies."

"Yes," Naris nodded. 

"I knew someone would come," Master Barelo nodded. "You are the Nerevarine?" He looked Naris up and down.

"Perhaps," Naris shrugged, it was useless to deny it right now even though he badly wanted to. 

"Hmm," Master Barelo sighed and walked over to a table to pick up a pair of parchment sheets. "Here, the lost prophecies for your wise woman. I would like to personally discuss them?"

"Of course," Naris nodded.

"Good," Master Barelo leant his head back to think. "We have two other prophecies, 'The Lost Prophecy' and 'The Seven Curses', that may offer additional insights into the riddles surrounding the coming of the Incarnate. Perhaps these are the Lost Prophecies that your wise woman told you about." He motioned to the parchment. "But I also have this," he picked up one of the other pieces of parchment on the shelves around them and handed that to Naris as well. Naris furrowed his brow as he read the title at the top of the page. 'Kagranac's Tools.'

"This document will explain to you, and to others, the terrible secret that the Temple conceals about the true history of the Tribunal and the corrupt nature of their divine powers. It is to conceal this secret that the Temple persecutes the Nerevarine and the Dissident Priests. This persecution must stop," Master Barelo closed his eyes tightly before continuing. "We must be united against the true enemy, Dagoth Ur. And if you are the Nerevarine, you must lead us against him."

"Thank you," Naris said.

"Now the prophecies," Barelo clicked his tongue. "The lost prophecy.

'From seventh sign of eleventh generation,Neither Hound nor Guar, nor Seed nor Harrow,But Dragon-born and far-star-marked,Outlander Incarnate beneath Red Mountain,Blessed Guest counters seven curses,Star-blessed hand wields thrice-cursed blade,To reap the harvest of the unmourned house.'

I've annotated your copy of 'The Lost Prophecy' with our best efforts at interpretation. But a rough summary might be: 'An outlander -- foreign-born, but welcomed as a guest -- confronts seven curses beneath Red Mountain. His hand, blessed by Azura, uses a cursed blade to bring justice to House Dagoth, or House Dwemer, or both.' The Nerevarine? An outlander? That wouldn't please many Ashlanders, and may explain how the prophecy got lost."

"It may," Naris agreed. "The other?"

"The Seven Curses' reads as follows:

Through the doors of the unmourned housewhere scoffers scoff and schemers schemefrom the halls of the oath-breaking houserings seven curses of gods blasphemed.

first curse, Curse-of-Firesecond curse, Curse-of-Ashthird curse, Curse-of-Fleshfourth curse, Curse-of-Ghostsfifth curse, Curse-of-Seedsixth curse, Curse-of-Despairseventh curse, Curse-of-Dreams.

Your copy of 'The Seven Curses' bears our guesses at interpreting the verses. In short form: Seven curses come from House Dagoth, or House Dwemer, or both. Fire and ash come from Red Mountain. Flesh is corprus. Ghosts, Seed, and Despair are unclear, but Curse-of-Dreams seems to refer to recent cases of soul sickness and Sleeper attacks in the towns."

Naris paused to absorb all the information. "Thank you for giving these to me, and explaining."

"You are welcome friend," Barelo smiled. "I wish you well."

'NMaS masterlist / post masterlist

[larrydaleydaily]

Quick-write exercise: Asked a friend to send me any random picture and i’d write at least 1000 words that relate in some way.

Here is the picture they gave me:

Writing under the cut (1.2k words, no trigger warning necessary, I think?)

I did not proofread or edit this at all, as that is not the point of the exercise. Have at it.

She sits in her chair by the window. This is her daily ritual, sitting in the old armchair we dragged home from a yard sale, staring past the train tracks whose tremors shake our apartment and herald every passing hour, past the rows of squat houses and businesses of our town. When she's looking out that window, there is something in her eyes that I can never quite pin down, as if she's always bearing witness to something I can't see. Her hair, like every day, is pinned up as neatly as she can manage, her arms crossed neatly at the wrists. Delicate hands are folded in her lap most of the time, except when she reaches for her drink. Cradle the glass or mug as gently as a mother with her newborn, bring the vessel to her lips, set the cup down with not so much as a *clink*, fold hands together precisely as they had been. After a few moments, she returns to this world and rises from the chair. This is her ritual.

Yesterday had been hard. The soft jingling sound of her rustling for her key had my eyes wandering over to the front door of our home, waiting to see her. The door cracked open, her stepping so gingerly over the threshold before catching my gaze. Her shoulders, which I hadn't realized were held so high with tension, dropped. She does not move another muscle beyond allowing her eyes to soften until I could not read her anymore. I tipped my head in curiosity, about to ask her what was keeping her glued to our foyer, when she let her keys, her bag, and her expression drop, falling to her knees as a silent cold gripped her. I ran to her, of course, offering her every bit of myself if only to help. My arms to steady, my voice to calm, my fingers to work at getting her out of the soaking coat she wore. I did not ask what had happened. I knew.

She spent the night in that chair by the window. A storm raged outside, while a far more violent silence took hold in our home. I let her be, I know she will return when she's ready. That is not to say, however, that I cannot make this war within her a little easier. When I awoke there was an unusual quiet, one typically filled with her groans that the sun always rises too early for her liking or the sounds of her in the kitchen. Today, there will be no toast with the jam I like, nor will there be eggs cooked halfway between what either of us enjoy. No. When I drag myself from this bed, she will still be in that chair. But I can help with that. I quiet the padding of my feet as I pass the window, knowing any noise from me won't disturb her but not wanting to break the serenity of the room. I notice she is asleep. Good. She needs it. I continue my path to our kitchen, moving in a straight line towards our coffee maker. I don't use this machine often, she's the coffee person in the house, but I know the basics. I have seen her scoop the grounds and lay them here, patting it until it is flat as she talks endlessly about the latest book she read. I have watched from across the counter as she filled this reservoir with water from the tap without needing to look at it, her attention drawn by a cat meandering by the kitchen window. I know that this button here, that she could find (and has found) in the pitch black of night will start the rumbling machine that is oh-so easy to ignore while she stands in front of it. I can use this machine. For her. So I do. It's clumsy, and slower than when she does it, but I am not her.

As I wait for the monster to make the drink, I notice that the morning sun is blinding, and, if I were to sit beside her and look out the same window, I know that I could see all the way down to the rocky shore, miles and miles away. I know that the sight of the sea calms her restless soul, and that this pebble-laden, bleak beach is less than what she deserves to see, but it is our coast. Down there is where we met. She had just moved here for her job, I had moved here to run away. Both of us exploring until we found what we had been searching for. We continued to "accidentally" run into each other for weeks on that shore. She joked that it was fate, I believed it. That beach is where she confessed her quiet feelings, looking beautiful in the muted sunlight when she got too nervous to look at me and turned instead to the gently lapping waves. That beach, oh that beach. It's our sacred garden of Eden, and I know there is no risk of losing it.

A thought occurs to me. I've seen baristas put art on their coffees before. I know the basics of that process, too. Maybe I could... Yes, I can. I set about gathering what I need- what do I need? A quick search online tells me everything and, as luck would have it, we own all the necessary equipment. I am working so fervently, so focused, that I do not hear her stretch her aching limbs and move to join me. When I look up from my task, she is watching me, a tired smile on her face. I am slightly embarrassed at the passion with which I had just been moving about the kitchen, but my creation is done. She embraces me. She's warm. I ask if she slept well, she replies that I know she didn't. I release her from my arms and bid her to sit down at one of the counter chairs. Her eyes narrow a bit in amused confusion but I nudge her again, and she complies. Without opening my mouth, I tell her that I know her road has been long and hard, but that I am here for every mile marker that she wants me. I tell her that I know that this storm, too, will pass, and that I will be there to hold the umbrella for as long as she needs me. I tell her that I look at her everyday and see the hope of a new smile. I say all of that by pushing our little white mug towards her. She looks at the little scene I made, the blue of the water, the sun poking out between clouds, the beach where we met. I apologize and joke that the coffee is probably cold at this point, me having gotten very wrapped up in decorating it. I do not notice her silent tears until she is rushing towards me, right back into my ever-welcome embrace. She has no words, nor have I need of them. I know.

Hours later, after she has calmed, made herself a new coffee (I take no offense), and napped in our bed, she comes to me quietly. Nestled on the couch, tangled around each other, she tells me that she loves me and that she is making the choice to be happy. Not with those words, as is typical in our home, but by telling me she wants to sell the chair by the window.

[hyeque]

ah...i want to sit at tsukki’s feet while he looks down his nose at me and says mean things😔 or have him grip my thigh under the table and mutter filthy things to me while we’re out with other people😣

the last laugh [tsukishima kei] [nsfw]

synopsis: in which you get punished for tsukishima’s teasing

notes: anon…this man would be a menace,,, he truly would

warnings: semi-public sex, fingering, blowjob, humiliation, kei is mean this time, orgasm denial, degradation, overstimulation, squirting, female!reader

upon choosing to date tsukishima, the one question that your friends asked you the most was ‘how difficult is it to date “someone like him?”’, and you only answer that it is in fact not difficult to date him at all. that most people get his character wrong. they misunderstand him.

and it’s true in his actions. you started getting the question less when people actively saw how sweet he was with you. seen in making you walk on the inside of the sidewalk, his gentle, sweet kisses to your temple when greeting you. seen when his hands hover protectively over you at all times to make sure you’re okay. seen in him tugging his extremely large jacket over your shoulders without hesitation when you complain that you’re cold (even though he told you already to bring your own jacket multiple times). and seen in how he’ll nudge you with his foot and bring you food and water because he knows you haven’t eaten anything properly.

but boy does he make it hard to defend him at times.

once a well established couple, pda—though subtle—is not foreign between the two of you to all your friends.

and kei is, well, huge. so it’s only natural for his large form to move into your personal space. your knees often touch, and skin presses against one another. the smell of his aftershave and body wash evades your nose occasionally, and you can feel the deep timber of his voice when he speaks or laughs at something said by someone.

so, currently while seated at a bar with him and your friends, all of your senses are overriding your mind. you can’t help it. he’s pretty and gorgeous, and the fitted clothing he’s wearing today isn’t helping your thoughts at all. your brain thinks nothing shortly but just kei kei kei and you’re hoping and praying that he doesn’t take notice how effected you are by how close he is.

but of course, look at who you’re dating.

his golden brown eyes happen to glance over, noting just how you’re subtly squeezing your thighs together. something he knows you only do when you’re feeling especially needy.

he rests one large hand on your leg and you shiver, knowing the innocent implications behind the gesture will soon turn nasty. he gently traces his calloused thumb over your skin to get you to relax, and like always, it works.

a faint smirk appears on his face, but it can easily be played off as him laughing at something stupid shoyo did. but you both know it’s because of how easy and pliant you are for him. his hand shoves it’s way between your thighs, and you glance at him, hoping he’ll get the memo to stop. but the man simply isn’t paying you any attention. his eyes are focused on something being said by hitoka. you can’t move very much away from him either, because on the other side of you is a wall.

you squirm in a way to shake off his hand, but his grip on your thigh tightens and he pinches you in warning. you yelp a little at the pain and a few heads turn in your general direction.

your name is called and you reassure that you’re fine, you just bumped your knee under the table. you also throw in something about the room being a little cold, and that you’re just adjusting yourself to get comfortable.

tsukishima leans into you and rests his hand on your forehead to “check for a fever”. meanwhile, his other hand is pushing your already slick-stained panties to the side. a sharp inhale from him and you know he’s turned on now as well.

you whine quietly and he shoots you a quick glare when you try to touch the bulge in his jeans. he removes your hand before he leans down to act as if he needs to say something to you.

“are you going to be able to sit still and behave? or do i need to teach your dumb cunt a lesson privately?” he murmurs. his fingers are now brushing over your clit, your slick coating the offending appendages.

your heart skips a beat, and you know he’s serious by his words, so you only answer quickly and accordingly. “please don’t stop…i-i will behave, i promise.”

his dark expression instantly brightens, and your sweet boyfriend has returned. “good.” he kisses your temple, gently patting your head.

you think that’s the end of it, but no. there’s no warning when tsukishima slips two fingers inside of you and you bite your fist to control your noise. he looks unfazed for someone who’s knuckles deep in you. if you listen closely, though, there’s the lewdly noise of squelching from his fingers moving vigorously.

you plaster on a smile as one of your friends looks over with concern. but it’s hard to concentrate on the group conversation with now four of tsukishima’s fingers in you.

and his foul mouth doesn’t make it any better.

“jesus christ,” he mutters, eyes flickering back to you, “are you really this soaked right now? in front of all our friends? are you not ashamed?”

he doesn’t expect an answer back, and personally, he’d rather it stay that way. because then he can play all his cards how he wants to.

a grin appears on his face when he curls his fingers and you keen quietly, instantly hushed by him. “better not leave a mess on this booth we’re sitting in right now.” and he pinches your clit, sending a roll of pleasure through you.

no one questions the closeness between the two of you. tsukishima only acts as if you’re snuggled closer to him for warmth based on your earlier statement. everyone’s sitting far apart enough that no one can see what’s happening under the table.

and you can feel yourself close. he can, too. there’s no doubt with the way you’re starting to tighten up on him, pelvic muscles twitching and contracting. you subtly move your hips against his hand while sneaking glances, and he knows. he knows you’re about to gush all over him. the only problem now is, will he actually let you c—

“ew, suckyshima. are you really feeling up your girlfriend right in front of everyone right now?” shoyo sneers.

this halts both of you, and you feel your eyes nearly brim with tears as your orgasm slips from your tsukishima’s fingertips.

how hinata sees any of it? you don’t know. tsukishima doesn’t either. but maybe if either one of you realized the fact that tangerine dropped his silverware beneath the table, you would’ve stopped.

tsukishima blinks, his expression unchanging, but the twitch in his brow and reddening of his ears is unmissable. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“yeah? then show us your hand.” tobio smirks, leaning back. when the blonde makes no move to, both pairs of the quick attack duo holler with laughter. hitoka and tadashi simply sit, flustered and beet red.

it’s not helpful that both of you are embarrassed in this situation. in fact, you’re a little peeved at the whole thing. the teasing, your ruined orgasm, hinata and kageyama’s laughing.

so if anyone is going to get the last laugh, it’s going to be you.

“i told him to stop,” you let slip, pouting, “but he couldn’t keep his hands off of me and leave me alone. his horniness is uncontrollable sometimes, sorry.”

it’s quiet for a moment before the table ends up hollering with laughter. hinata and kageyama waste no more time to make more jabs and even yamaguchi joins in, followed by small giggles from yachi.

you start to laugh, but the aura besides you is one that has become…chilling. you see tsukishima sitting in an eerie silence. a small smile on his face.

and in his mind, you know he’s seething, because a quiet kei is worse than one having angry outbursts.

it was one thing for him to be laughed at by hinata, but kageyama? that’s the last straw.

the blonde simply swipes you up by the arm before he’s pulling you out the booth, tugging you forcibly to the restroom. the group watches in awe as he escorts you inside.

once the door is locked, hands and lips pin you to it. you gasp at the assault taking place on your neck. tsukishima's tongue glides across your neck before he's sucking and biting at your skin and you hear the telltale noise of his buckle coming undone.

your nerves get the better of you and you say, “h-here? but someone will—”

he shoves his fingers in your mouth, and to no surprise, you can taste yourself on them. “no, no. you want to embarrass me, so now you don’t get the privilege of having your punishment done completely privately. you think i care about anyone hearing you moan? because i could care less right now. for all i know, they should be thanking me for being able to hear something as angelic as your orgasms.”

he’s biting at your collarbone now, wasting no time to move in on your breasts. he pulls back and huffs out a laugh. “it’s almost like you wanted to be caught. when you know how hinata and kageyama look at you. who’d knew you go to such whoreish lengths.”

kei knows his words aren’t the most logical, but he doesn’t care. he’s provoking you the way you provoked him.

“y-you started it!” you blurt, feeling your face heat up as you cover your mouth. tsukishima’s brown eyes glowered as they focus on you.

his large hand rests gently on your neck, the grip only slightly tight. "little girl, you're really testing my patience today."

he pushes you to the floor, his hand titling your chin up. “maybe if you didn’t decide to think with your pussy, you wouldn’t be in this position right now.” he thumbs your cheek, wiping away your frustrated tears.

“now come on, put that smart mouth of yours to good use. we don’t have all day.” he huffs.

and you’re trembling because you can see the very clear and very visible bulge protruding from his jeans.

pulling tsukishima’s dick out, you’re instantly reminded of what backs up his cocky nature. weighing heavily in your hands, his cock throbs under your touch. he’s not as lanky as he used to be, but in the past there had been jokes here and there wondering where all the food he ate went if not to his muscles.

and sure enough, the answer is right in front of you.

kei quirks a brow, smirking down at you. “what? cock got your tongue? you haven’t even put it in your mouth yet.”

biting your tongue, you only take him in your mouth, making him swear under his breath as you accommodate fitting him all down your throat.

his hand moves to the back of your scalp and gently guides your head movements. he closes his eyes, sighing with content when reopening them to look at you. “yeah, just like that, princess. suck my cock just how i taught you.”

the pet name makes you gush and you go to slip a hand between your legs, but have it swatted away by him.

“none of that. you don’t get to touch my cunt.” he snaps before grabbing your hands, “now use your hands on my balls.”

you comply, easily playing with them just how he likes. a pretty moan escapes him and you nearly roll your eyes back at how ethereal kei looks. a pretty blush covering his pale skin all from his face, torso, and hips. there’s nothing like bringing such a big man to his knees.

mischievously, you suckle on his tip, knowing how sensitive he is there and how easy it is to make him cum. even if you can’t get off, you can still get something out of this situation, and you’re dying to have his cum in your mouth. your tongue laps over his fat mushroom tip, not daring to miss his frenenlum.

he gasps, his moans stuttering before he realizes what you’re doing. “b-brat, who told you to do that—” he hisses, pulling you off of him. you only stare up at him innocently.

he glares, scoffing, “you haven’t learned anything, have you?”

“i dunno, maybe you can show me?” you respond, batting your eyes.

his restraint snaps and he shoves his cock back in your mouth. slowly he starts to fuck your face. your hands fly to grasp onto his thighs and soon the sound of your gasps and gagging ricochet off the bathroom walls.

tsukishima watches as your drool leaks down his cock and you eyes tear up. “whining about how i ‘started it’ when we both know your slutty cunt is what started it in the first place. i can’t take you anywhere without you getting overly horny. it’s annoying. who’s horniness is uncontrollable now?”

you can only sit there and take it as he repeatedly hits the back of your throat with his fat tip. whining quietly, you dig your nails into his thighs.

“your precious boyfriend just wanted to take care of you, and the thanks i get is you embarrassing me? i shouldn’t even be letting you suck me off right now. you're enjoying this way too much.” he pulls away again, and you nearly cry, mouth feeling lost and empty without him in it.

“kei, p-please…i’m sorry, okay?” you desperately reach out for him, but he moves away.

he fake pouts, “‘p-please’, why? why shouldn’t i just finish on your face?”

“because i want to make you feel good. i’m sorry, i’ll make it up to you.” you plead, eyes tearing up. “i’ll make you feel so good, i want to!”

he doesn’t admit that your teary eyes do something to him, and only grunts. “then you better make it worth my time.”

and you do. you do like your life depends on it. and you can tell he’s having a hard time holding back his moans.

“fuck, baby, you’re going to make me cum. see how your mouth is better suited for things like this instead of talking? you’re making me feel so good right now. such a good fucking girl.” praises slipping effortlessly from his mouth when you make him feel over the moon.

his hips are stuttering and thighs are shaking. “s-shit, where do you want it, huh? are you gonna be good and swallow it all?”

you nod rapidly, heart pounding loud in your chest as you finally, finally get what you want.

he moans loudly but is careful not to say your name. he doesn’t want to give you that kind of satisfaction. suddenly thick, hot ropes of his cum are being shot down your throat. he watch’s in awe as you gulp it all down with barely no problems. he’ll never get tired of your sinful mouth.

he’s panting and zipping himself back up before looking down at you and kneeling. “lemme see.”

you choke. “w-what?”

“let me see the mess you made, dummy.” he rolls his eyes before instructing you to grab onto him. with your legs thrown over his shoulders, his face meets your heat. you twitch as his hot breath fans over you and your heart hammers loudly in your chest. his golden eyes are cold. menacing. calculating as he stares up at you. you only wonder what he has planned for you both.

“listen up. i know you’re soaked down here, so i’m going to do you a favor and lick you clean with my tongue. you hold back any moans, and i stop. you touch me anywhere than my shoulders, and i stop. got it?” he asks, squeezing your thighs gently.

you nod rapidly.

he clicks his tongue. “no, verbally. say it out loud.”

“i understand, sir.” you nod, shivering.

he kisses your inner thigh, humming with satisfaction. “good. shouldn’t be letting any of this go to waste.” he mumbles, before moving his mouth onto your cunt. his tongue laps over the lace of your stained panties and he groans, tongue probing your dripping holes.

“kei—ahh, feels so good!” you cry, fingers itching to grab onto his blond locks but miserably groping the door.

your musk seeps through the lace and he grunts impatiently, tearing the lace with his teeth to reach your middle.

you have no time to complain when his tongue is suddenly deep inside of you, his lips wrapping around your now exposed bud, and fingers moving in coordination with his mouth.

a silent curse in your head goes to tsukishima for being a volleyball player and also dexterous with his hands. it doesn’t take you along time to cum on his tongue and suddenly you’re sobbing his name just how he wanted you to.

“mmm good job, baby,” he thumbs your cheek, “but i don’t think you were loud enough. i know you can get more vocal than that.”

instantly, he’s face first back into your pussy for more. he’s much more ruthless this time, and there’s a borderline crazed expression on his face, almost like you’re a toy and he’s figuring you out.

“m’sensitive!” you whine, body trembling. you almost push him away, but remember his warning words from earlier. you only can dig your nails into the palm of your hand to cope.

“yeah? and when has that ever been my problem? you taste even better when you’re overstimulated anyways.” he noted before burying his face right back into you. he’s groaning as your slick runs down his chin. his glasses are surely a mess but he doesn’t need to see anything—hell he doesn’t need to breathe either. not while in your cunt with your pretty thighs around his neck.

it’s embarrassing how close your high is again, but when kei knows every part of you like the back of his hand, there’s no reason to be.

“k-kei, p-please, i’m going to—” but with one flick of his fingers, you’re gushing and squirting onto his face. you squeal his name, whining and begging—for him to stop or keep going, you don’t know. you’re delirious by this point.

he cleans you up, fixing your dress and hair. there’s nothing to do about the bruises along your neck, chest and knees, but tsukishima likes it that way.

“can you stand?” he asks, noting your wobbly legs. you know he’s not really concerned but just finding ways to stoke his ego. especially in front of kageyama and hinata.

“just barely.” you whisper, throat stinging.

“i’ll run you a bath and make some tea when we get home.” tsukishima informs, noting to also get ointment for your knees.

your heart swoons at the gesture. but once appearing in front of your friends again, your embarrassment level is through the roof. the deafening silence is nearly unbearable and your face is on fire.

“ahh she’s not feeling well right now, so we’re going to head home. isn’t that right?” you boyfriend looks down at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

you nod solemnly, your voice too hoarse and brain fucked too dumb to make a coherent response.

and as always, kei gets the last laugh.

[dearmantis]

First Snow

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova /The Darkling x Tidemaker!Reader

Summary: Snow finally falls and you want to enjoy the freezing temperatures at night in peace.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.3k

Authors' Note: Yes, I wrote this because it finally snowed where I live and I really missed it. This is completely plotless and pointless, I won't lie. This is also not edited and English isn't my native language.

You've lost the feeling in your nose, ears, hands and feet twenty minutes ago, but you can't bring yourself to go back inside as you stare up into the sky, snow landing on your face and settling on top of your lashes.

The wish to lay down in the thick, undisturbed layer of snow in front of you is strong but you still remember the last time Aleksander found you buried under a few centimetres of snow, his face red from anger and the freezing temperatures.

"Do you want to freeze to death?" he had asked, voice sharp as a knife as he grabbed you by the collar, quickly pulling you up to your feet before removing the snowflakes sticking to your cloak, scarf and fur hat with quick, light slaps against the fabric and fur.

He has never been able to understand your love for freezing temperatures, for ice and snow, thick cloaks and hot teas, so you decide every year to sneak out during the coldest winter nights, leaving him, comfortable in his ignorance, alone as he works the night away.

You usually make it back inside before he notices your absence, the exceptions being few and far in between, so you don't think he knows just how often you leave him during the night to enjoy the winter in peace.

Of course you wish you could spend the nights with him, surrounded by shadows and frost, but he has simply never been the type to truly get it.

In all honesty, you don't fully get it either. Why snow and ice are what has you in such a trance while almost every other Tidemaker you know feels the happiest around lakes, rivers or the ocean. Closeness to the element you control brings ease to Etheralki, at least most of the time. It's like having a weapon close by that you'd be able to wield blindly if required. Why your favourite weapon is tied to a season is a mystery, however.

Humming quietly you rub your gloved hands together before lifting them up to your lips and blowing hot hair into them, trying to get some feeling back. The metal bench you're sitting on is still ice cold and refuses to truly warm up, instead sucking the heat out of your thighs, but it's also the only place where you can sit, and it's still too early to go back inside. The first heavy snowfall of the season deserves to be appreciated.

Thick clouds are sitting in the sky, covering the stars and blocking the light of the moon, drowning the surroundings of the Little Palace in darkness, the only light source being the small lantern you carried outside with you, housing a big, white candle, proudly burning with all it's might inside of the protective metal and glass box.

It's peaceful, so peaceful in fact that you don't even notice it when somebody approaches, stuck too deep in your own thoughts to realise what's going on until the person sits down next to you and holds a steaming cup under your face. Your head whips to the side, hands moving together in case you have to defend yourself, when you finally recognize the huge black fur coat next to you.

"Sasha" you huff, fingers wrapping around the hot cup, the warmth stinging as feeling returns slowly to your hands.

"I woke up because I got cold" he confesses, a small, bashful smile visible on his lips. "And you weren't next to me, so I looked out the window to see if I could find you out here."

You're sitting on the bench closest to your shared quarters, directly visible from the windows. As cheesy and stupid as it might sound, the closeness to Aleksander brings you a similar feeling of safety and peace as the snow. Staying too far away from him, especially when you're both vulnerable, easy targets – him being asleep and you being stuck daydreaming – is almost uncomfortable.

Taking a small sip from the tea he has brought you sigh softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. The dark fur of his coat tickles a bit against your skin as you respond.

"I'm sorry, Sasha. I just wanted to get outside and enjoy the fresh snow. I completely forgot that you could wake up."

Aleksanders sleep has always been notoriously light, waking up at the slightest of sounds, change of lighting or shift in temperature. All things considered it is quite a miracle that you got to spend those previous thirty minutes undisturbed. Usually you choose to sneak out while he isn't in the palace or while he's working the night away in the war room, but tonight you simply couldn't help yourself.

He shakes his head, lifting his own cup to his lips to drink a few sips before he speaks. "Don't worry about it, milaya. I should've expected this. You've spent the whole day staring at the falling snow outside. I just assumed you wouldn't dare to leave while I slept next to you. You usually only disappear when I work."

There's a thick layer of amusement audible in his voice and it warms your heart better than any cloak or fur ever could.

"So you knew?" you ask surprised, lifting your head from his shoulder to look at him. "But you always get so mad when you catch me. I don't understand-"

"Let an old man have his fun, milaya." Aleksander cuts you off, hand moving to your shoulder to press you back against him. "Of course I notice it when you sneak out. And I come and get you when you stay out for too long. It's cute that you thought I wouldn't notice it, though. Especially considering that I always have a Heartrender around to stand guard."

You groan loudly, taking another long sip of the tea before burying your face in the Darklings thick fur coat again. It smells nice, like rosemary and burning wood, with an underlying note of something sweet. Aleksanders own smell that you've never been able to fully identify.

"So Maksim betrayed me." you murmur into the coat, taking another deep breath to take in more of the smell. Sweet berry jam, maybe?

He laughs loudly, his body shaking with the sound as he leans his head against yours. "Betrayed? He is doing his job, don't be too hard on him."

His hand rubs your back carefully and you can hear him taking a big sip from his own tea.

You sit like this for a few minutes, occasionally taking a sip from your teas, enjoying the darkness and snow. When your cup is empty you place it on the ground in front of you before you stand up to quickly sit down on his lap, hands moving inside his coat to lay flat against his back, soaking in the warmth his body gives off.

Pressing yourself tightly against him he moves to rest his chin on your head as a laugh rumbles through his body. "Are you getting cold, milaya?" he purrs, placing his own cup next to you on the bench to free his hands and hug you freely.

"I just want to be closer to you for a bit." you answer softly. His thighs are so much warmer than the cold bench, his whole body radiating heat like a fire.

"You could be even closer to me if we went back inside." Aleksander whispers back.

"I don't want to go back inside yet. The Squallers are gonna remove the snow in the morning. I want to enjoy this as long as I can."

"Maybe, but we will freeze to death together."

"We will freeze to death by then."

You giggle quietly.

[olivyh]

Hi hi! I hope you don't mind, but I'd like to request a Jamil x reader fix where Jamil, grabs reader all panic like " there is a dangerous and vile creature in my room and I need your help to kill it!" and you think it would be something really serious but it's not.

It's just a ladybug,

There's a ladybug on his bed, and the poor boy doesn't want to get anywhere near it.

But reader helps get rid of the "vile creature" anyway, they just don't kill it. (Reader:... Vile creature? Jamil: not another word)

Hii!!!! I don't mind at all!!!! I actually have a lot of Jamil requests rn and I'm so happy because I never really get to write for him!!! I also like fluffy requests <<3333333 Also I might start doing notes in italics (Like that) to make the divide easier- is it easy for everyone to read? I know some fonts can be hard for some people, so I was wondering if italics works! Enough ofmy rambles!! On w the story!!

It was a normal day at NRC, with you having taken Jamil back to Scarabia after classes, chatting with him about practice as he smiled down at you warmly, your hands intertwined as you stepped through the mirror. He had dismissed himself to change out of his uniform, leaving you to sit in the common room. 

Now, it was not often that you had seen your lover lose his mind. Sure, you had seen the subtle twitch of his eyebrow or the way his jaw clenched when Kalim or one of his teammates had gotten into trouble, or the way that he had to fight his eyes from rolling when you would make a dumb joke or try to pamper him, stifling the smile that would creep up on his lips as he would turn his head. 

So when you hear an ear-splitting scream from his room, you shot up in your chair, heart racing as your mind turned over anything that could have happened. You race to his room, feeling your face pale as your heartbeat hammers in your ears, a pit forming in your stomach as you twist the knob and throw the door open. 

"Jam?!" You breathe a sigh of relief when you notice that he is unharmed. His hands shake at his sides and you can see the cold sweat forming along his forehead. His hair is slightly disheveled, and he stands in the corner of the room in his tanktop, sweatshirt balled up as a weapon in his hands. His eyes widen as he turns to you, taking a moment to catch his breath as he strides over to you, holding both of your biceps and hiding behind your back, effectively using you as a shield. "What happened?!"

"There is a dangerous, vile creature in here and I need you to kill it!" 

"Dangerous?" You ask, voice quivering. You had known of all the oddities in Twisted Wonderland by now- the plants that could make someone shrink or grow and the roots that would howl when you pulled them from the ground until your ears rang and you had to sit in the infirmary for the rest of the day. Jamil was skilled in self-defense, and he was incredibly knowledgeable about anything that could cause harm. You bit your lip in fear thinking about how horrible this thing must be if even he couldn't bear to be around it. 

A small speck flying across the room snapped you out of your thoughts. You felt Jamil's hands tighten on your arms, and you could swear you could hear his teeth creak from how hard he was clenching his jaw. It lands on the wall and you sigh, stifling a giggle. 

"It's a ladybug."

"Get it out. Now," His voice was low as you wiggled out of his firm grip, holding his face firmly between your palms and pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose as he huffed. "Please. Before it moves again!"

"Okay! Okay!" You giggle and climb onto his bed, trying to stabilize yourself as you walk along the comforter and cup your hand on the wall. You feel the ladybug fly toward your hand, its small feet tickling your fingers and you giggle. "You know, in my world, ladybugs are good luck!"

"Not here," He sighs and takes a hesitant step back when you jump off the bed, cupping your hands and giving the small insect some room to crawl around. 

"They're not scary," You walk over to him. 

"Get rid of it!" He holds his arms up and backs himself into the wall as you smile. "It's not funny." His face goes stoic again, aside from the way his eyes blink rapidly from your hand to your face. You slowly raise your cupped hands and watch him press himself further into the wall. "Baby, it's not funny." His voice raises a bit as you watch him gulp. You feel a little bad but also... he teases you much, much worse. 

You drop your hands and chuckle. "It's a little funny!" He pouts and gently flicks your forehead. "Is that any way to treat your generous savior?"

"I'm cooking dinner. That's your treat," He deadpans and backs himself away from the wall, walking with you until you hit the common room. You can hear his footsteps grow distant and you notice that he's trailing behind you. 

"Jamil?"

"Hm?"

"Help me?" You ask, trying to give him your most innocent stare. You notice his eyebrows furrow on his forehead as he sighs, hanging his head slightly as he nods, the bells along his hairline jingling softly. You lift your arms slightly and motion for him to cup your hands in his own, which he does so hesitantly. You can feel him rest his chin against the nape of your neck, as well as the slight flinch when you open your hands and allow the small bug to fly out. You watch it go and smile, smiling when he buries his face in the crook of your neck and his arms move to wrap around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. 

"Are you okay?" He nods and you smile, wiggling in his hold to turn around. "Come on, let's make dinner."

He nods and lifts his face from your neck, smiling until his eyes wander to right above your head, eyes widening. You follow his gaze and you both silently watch the small ladybug drift back into the dorm and bumble cheerfully down the hall. 

"Did it just...?"

"...Yeah."