#I haven’t seen or heard you for several months

[void-tiger]

…I want to see you so badly I could cry. (I don’t expect to. I know I won’t. But.)

[pathologicalreid]

sense memory | S.R.

After eight months, you and Spencer reunite after he was in prison and you were in WITSEC.

part two

who? spencer reid x hotchner!reader category: flangst content warnings: general cm violence, peter lewis, prison reid, cat adams word count: 2.64k a/n: i have no idea if i like this or not. it might be too cheesy. but i like cheese.

Second floor, apartment 23.

You leaned against the wall and slid down until you were sat on the ground. You left your bag draped over your shoulder, holding the strap tightly.

“Haven’t seen you around in a while, sweetie,” someone said, causing your head to snap up. “Here to see him?” Spencer’s elderly neighbor asked as she passed, carrying a grocery bag in her hand from the market down the street.

Nodding, you smiled softly at her, “I was on a trip. I’m just waiting for him to come home.”

She hummed and kept walking to her door, apartment 24. “He went on a trip too, huh.”

Waving halfheartedly as she disappeared into her apartment, you leaned your head against the wall. Yeah, you went on a trip – a trip to witness protection, and Spencer went to prison.

Spencer went to prison. The words still felt foreign to you, you hadn’t heard them until two weeks ago after Peter Lewis died. Since he didn’t know where you were, he sent letters to your old address, and they were forwarded to the marshal assigned to protect you. When you left the program, you got the letters. 178 letters.

Some of them were several pages long, some of them were as simple as an I love you or an I miss you, and some of them had doodles, usually equations.

You wondered if he’d gotten your mail yet. The letters and pictures you’d collected for your marshal to send to him once you were out of WITSEC. You weren’t even sure if he’d want to see you, but your dad encouraged you to try anyway.

You had left in October, just after his birthday, and now it was May.

After being separated from your dad and Jack for so long, you went to stay with them for a week, but you knew you wanted to return to the district. You wanted to see Spencer, for closure if for nothing else. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, JJ,” you heard him say from the first floor, and panic washed over you. The nerves of seeing him again had you wondering whether or not you could survive a jump out of the second-story window.

But the hallway windows didn’t open, you were left panicking, and then there he was.

You shouldn’t be here; you didn’t know what to say to him. The first person from your past should’ve been someone else. You could’ve called JJ or Penelope.

You saw him before he saw you, he was too busy digging in his bag for his keys. Pulling yourself up to your feet, you stood up and wiped your clammy hands on your jeans.

When he looked up and saw you, his expression went from confusion to disbelief to shock. Not once did he look happy, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he, like you, had been finding it hard to be happy lately.

Your chest ached as he walked past you and put his key in the lock. Spencer opened the door, and you held your breath as he held the door open, and you stepped inside of the apartment.

For months, you had imagined this moment in your mind, wondering what you would say when you finally got to see him again. He set his keys down on the entryway table before he turned around and faced you.

Familiar honey-colored irises studied you as if he was comparing the last time he had seen you to now.

“I shouldn’t have come,” you whispered, suddenly feeling like you were imposing on him.

Slowly, you walked backward out of the still-open door, resorting to the idea of never seeing him again. Until he spoke, “Please don’t leave me again.” His voice was soft, timid in a way you had never heard before.

You spun around and your lips parted in surprise. Tentatively, you stepped back toward him before you were right in front of him, inches apart, “I won’t.” It was a promise.

You weren’t sure who reached for who first, but the next moment your arms were slung around his neck and Spencer’s were around your torso, holding you so tightly that your feet lifted off the ground.

He’d bowed his head so that he could bury his face in the crook of your neck, whispering your name like a prayer that had been answered.

Propping your chin up on his shoulder, you took a deep breath, “I’m right here, Spence. I’m right here.” He was the same, and yet entirely different. Maybe more muscular, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. You opened your mouth to speak again, to tell him that you would never leave him again, not as long as he didn’t want you to.

Everything had changed in the past eight months; you knew you couldn’t make him that promise. That I’ll never leave you promise. It wasn’t real.

But Spencer was real. He was real and he was clutching you the way you were clutching you, his fingers digging into your skin so hard that you might bruise. “I got your letters,” you whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

You felt tears seep through your clothes as you took a deep breath and gently pried yourself away from him. “222 days,” he told you matter-of-factly. “I haven’t seen you in 222 days because you were in witness protection and you’re apologizing to me.”

“Of course, I’m apologizing to you. God, I left the program, and my marshal was like ‘Oh, by the way, here are hundreds of letters from your friends and your boyfriend wrote to you while you were gone. And just so you know, your boyfriend was in federal prison for the last three months.’” You took a few deep, uneven breaths. “What am I supposed to do with that, Spencer? Stop looking at me like that!”

He was smiling at you, his eyes were still watery, but he was giving you a doting smile even so, “I missed you.”

You dropped to a crouch at his words, and he followed you down. Those were the only words you had needed to hear over the last eight months. Meekly, you looked up at him, kneeling in front of you. When you left, Spencer had seemed like he was on top of the world, his mom had been accepted in that clinical trial, and the two of you had been talking more and more about your future. Now he seemed… heavier. A more burdened person. “I missed you so much,” you cried.

Reaching over to you, Spencer gently wiped the tears from your face before pulling you close to him, “You look as beautiful as you did the day I lost you.”

The two of you toppled over as a result of focusing on holding each other instead of balancing. He laid back on the floor, holding you close to him. You looked up, resting your chin on his shoulder, “You never lost me. You could never lose me. I always knew I’d come back; I always knew you’d get Scratch.”

“I didn’t, though,” he whispered, his voice tight with emotion.

You hummed, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your palm. “We’re here now, doesn’t that count for anything?”

Spencer pushed up so that he was being supported by his elbows, “That counts for everything.” He studied your face, “Where did that scar come from? It’s new,” he said, his voice still quiet, like you were an animal, and he was trying not to scare you away.

“Oh,” you murmured, “bashed my head on a door. Only me, right?” You brushed him off before clambering to your feet. What were you supposed to do now? Ask him if he wanted to talk? You used the sleeve of your jacket to wipe your nose. God, he had called you beautiful with snot running down your face. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered, staring at the floor. “I know, I know you’re going to say that I don’t have anything to apologize for, but I’m apologizing anyway. I’m sorry for leaving, I’m sorry that Morgan, my dad, and I all left within the same few months.”

He shook his head, “If you hadn’t gone, you’d most likely be dead now. I’d rather miss you for eight months than grieve you for a lifetime.”

You stepped away from him until you backed into the couch, “I thought about calling you. I had no idea that I wouldn’t have been able to. I just thought that-“

And just like that, he was kissing you. It was inevitable, just a question of who would make the first move. A small, shocked noise bubbled in your throat before you leaned into the kiss. It was gentle, tentative even. You gripped the lapels of his jacket as if he’d fade away, but you kissed him gently until he pulled away. “You showing up is the best thing to happen to me all year,” he murmured, sweeping your hair behind your ears. “You remain the most important person in my life.”

“Second most important,” you corrected. “How’s your mom?” Some of the information in his letters didn’t seem overly optimistic, mentioning him bringing her home to stay with him and a medication that he was getting in Mexico.

Spencer gave you a tight-lipped smile, “She’s good, I just went to see her with JJ, actually. She’s staying at a home in the district now.”

You smiled, “That’s good, keeping her close will be good for the both of you, I think.” Spencer reached around your body and pulled at your jacket, “What are you doing?”

“Taking your coat off in an attempt to coax you into staying,” he answered candidly.

Humming, you allowed him to pull the coat off of you, watching intently as he hung it on the coat rack. “Spence?” His name still felt foreign in your mouth as you moved to sit down on the couch.

He looked at you once he finished hanging his own coat, “Yeah?” Sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. A calculated decision, giving you space, but not sitting in a different chair.

“We should talk about it,” you responded, swallowing thickly. “All of it. Everything,” you continued. Millburn. Cat. Mr. Scratch.

Spencer went first, talking to you intently about what happened in that hotel room in Mexico. When he told you what Lindsay had done, you had to swallow your anger. Every once in a while, he’d trip over his words, and you encouraged him to take a break. You laid down on the couch and Spencer nestled in right next to you, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck and enabling you to play with his hair.

Eventually, he told you about Scratch’s takedown. How Luke had watched him dangle from the ledge of that building before he fell to his death.

You sniffled at the end of his story, “I’ll have to thank Luke next time I see him.” You said, closing your eyes and reveling in your sense memory. The smell of his shampoo – tea tree – and the smell of his apartment – stale coffee and old books.

“Where were you?” He whispered, reaching up and skimming the scar on your forehead with his fingertips.

Slowly, you opened your eyes to find his brown ones watching you. “Minnesota,” You whispered, “St. Paul.” Taking a deep breath, you continued, “Then Sacramento, for a while.”

His brows furrowed, “Why did you leave St. Paul?”

You hesitated, afraid to speak about the event. One of the worst things to have ever happened to you, right on up there with the death of your mother. “My uh…” you cleared your throat, “my location was compromised.”

“Does it have anything to do with the scar?” The one you had lied to him about hours ago.

Shutting your eyes, you nodded almost imperceptibly, “It has everything to do with the scar.”

You could see him starting to put a story together on his own, there was a scar on your face that hadn’t been there last year. A scratch. “What happened?”

The memory was there, you wanted to bury it, but it would stick with you forever. The scar on your forehead would fade, but the scar on your soul was permanent. “I did it, I put the scar there,” you admitted. “I don’t know how he found me,” you whispered, that same feeling of defeat rising in your chest.

You were lucky that there was no one else in the house for you to hurt because if Peter Lewis had turned you into a murderer, it might’ve pushed you over the metaphorical edge. As you spoke to Spencer, you told him as much. You were in a bad place while you were in WITSEC.

The two of you remained curled up together in a mess of tears and limbs and fistfuls of shirts and the overwhelming fear of being separated. Looking at him simultaneously broke your heart and put it back together again. “Sacramento was nice, but I missed the East Coast,” you whispered.

“What about your dad?” Spencer asked softly. Part of you wondered if he wanted to go to sleep, it was dark outside now, but you couldn’t be bothered to check the time.

Nodding, you sniffled, “he’s in Philadelphia with Jack, has been the whole time. That’s where I’ve been, with them.”

Spencer lifted his head to look at you, “Where are you staying tonight?”

Sighing, you shifted on the couch, “In a hotel, I’m apartment hunting tomorrow.”

“No,” he said simply, a frown forming on his face.

You laughed lightly, “What do you mean ‘no’?”

He shook his head, “I mean don’t go apartment hunting tomorrow, stay here with me. Stay here tonight, too.” He said, voice bordering on pleading.

“Spencer, we were together for almost six years and never moved in together,” you told him, arching one brow in suspicion. You had talked about it, it just never seemed to happen.

He sat up fully, “I’m tired of making excuses about breaking leases and travel times, Y/N. There’s not enough time in life to keep avoiding it,” he gestured wildly with his hands as his voice slowly rose.

You tried to wrap your head around the idea, “I just want to make sure you’ve thought this through before making a decision this big.” Folding your hands in your lap, you noticed the first real change in him. This was impulsive.

“I spent three months in prison thinking about you!” He said loudly, “Sometimes that was the only thing that kept me going.” That was quieter like he realized how loud he was actually being. “I knew there was my mom, I knew there was the team, but seeing you again… that kept me going.” He studied your face and based on the emotions you were feeling you could only imagine what your expression was, “Is it me? Is it everything I told you that I did? The poison? Cat? Do you not love me anymore?”

Your breath hitched, “I love you. Of course, I still love you.” Finally, you saw it. He was different, but at the same time, he was still the boy who hid his feelings from you – afraid of upsetting your father. The two of you had a long way to go before you could be together in way you used to be, and maybe things would never be the same.

His shoulders slouched forward in relief, “then move in with me.”

Nodding, you leaned your head on his shoulder, “okay.” You took his hand in yours, expertly intertwining your fingers as if no time had passed. “Okay,” you whispered. It certainly didn’t hurt to try.

“And for the record,” he murmured, “I love you too.”

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[harryspet]

homestead | r.cameron [p.2]

[warnings]dark!rafe cameron x pregnant!reader, farmer!rafe, pogue!reader, implied jj x reader, kidnapping, NONCON, unprotected sex, little editing,READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

word count: 3.4k

In which you confront Rafe's unsettling mix of tenderness and manipulation.

part one

Your search of the room for anything useful as a weapon was not fruitful. Most drawers were empty except for clothes. You found more pairs of pajamas and nightgowns, but searching the closet only yielded a few hung sundresses. The bathroom was simple, with a clawfoot tub and another window looking out onto green pastures. On the bathroom counter, you found a wicker basket full of what you assumed were newly bought essentials. Several containers of prenatal vitamins, body washes and creams for sensitive skin, panty liners, Epsom salts, and essential oils. 

Rafe Cameron thought of all of this?

The window offered a view of the other side of the house and a large white barn and Rafe’s blue pickup truck caught your eye. You stepped into the tub to get a closer look out the window. Maybe you could see a road, a way out of here, or even a street sign that might tell you where you were. Just like the bedroom windows, they didn’t budge either. 

The bedroom door swings open once more, and you sink into the empty tub, your head cradled in your hands as you desperately try to force your mind to function. For the sake of your baby, you need to think clearly. The overwhelming situation presses down on you, making it even harder to process what’s happening. You can sense his presence in the doorway, but you can't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

“I made scrambled eggs,” He said. 

“They make me sick,” You said stoically, “Haven’t eaten them in months.”

“Good to know,” His tall, broad figure stood over you before you heard him kneel down beside the tub, “I also brought yogurt and fresh fruit. How does that sound?”

“All the windows are locked.”

“Uh, yeah,” he said as if it were normal, “I know you’re hungry. You need your strength. I don’t have to remind you why.”

You looked up to see his hand offering a white bowl filled with yogurt, fresh blueberries, and strawberries. He was right—you needed your strength. If not for the baby, then to gather the energy to escape. Perhaps you could think more clearly on a full stomach. You gazed at the food for a full minute, trying to rationalize why you should accept it, wrestling with the cognitive dissonance that churned within you.

You took it from his hands without a thank you and stirred your spoon about twenty times before finally bringing it to your mouth. It tasted heavenly, which you hated. “There’s the cutest farmer’s market a couple of miles from here. The blueberries are incredible but you gotta get there early on Sunday before they’re sold out.”

You met his eyes for a brief moment and realized they were sparkling with joy. You didn’t have to respond to him, he’d happily talk to himself as long as he felt like he was making some progress with you. You couldn’t let me feel that way for long, “You’ve outdone yourself, Rafe, really.”

“Just want you to be comfortable,” He shrugged, and you rolled your eyes, “It’s a lot right now, I know that.”

“A lot,” you scoffed, bitterness laced throughout your tone. “This is insane.”

Something flickered in his eyes, but he suppressed it, whatever it was, “You’re safe here. Your baby’s safe here. There’s plenty of room, plenty of food, and you’d never have to work a real jon. You haven’t even seen everything yet, but it’s beautiful. It’s a great place to raise a kid.”

“Rafe, you took the choice away from me.”

He shook his head, “So what? I saved you from suffering even further. Not even a little part of you regrets choosing JJ?”

You went quiet, feeling your temper rising. Instead of responding, you brought another spoonful to your mouth. He didn’t understand why this was so completely wrong, and presenting him with common sense didn’t seem to be working. 

“I love you, Y/N,” He spoke as if to get your attention, but you didn’t meet his eyes this time, “Don’t start thinking anyone’s coming to save you, Y/N. And you won’t overpower me or make it far running. Not in your condition. You know that.”

You knew that, didn’t you? Clearly, JJ didn’t care enough about you to do better. And Pope had a bright future ahead of him. Maybe he’d realize he was better off without you. What were you to do now? Give in when you’ve just realized that Rafe is a monster?

“Finish your food, I’ll be back later,” When you looked again he had the plate in hand and was walking away, not without loudly shutting the door. 

Your head tilted back against the cold porcelain. This would turn out to be a game of endurance. You had to outlast him and perhaps outthink him. He’d been planning to bring you here for weeks, but he couldn’t have planned for everything. 

You finished your food and then spent the next few hours exploring the room in more detail, ensuring you hadn’t missed any detail. After all that time, the only new discovery that you make is under the bed. Still, in its packaging, you find a pregnancy pillow. You wouldn’t admit that you felt a small comfort at the sight of it. Sleeping had started to feel completely uncomfortable over the past few weeks, and you woke up painfully sore each morning.

It felt wrong when you knew it shouldn’t. In the meantime, you’d also take some of the prenatal vitamins. You could only afford one bottle of the generic brand, but Rafe provided several different types. Taking multiple kinds meant you weren’t missing any nutrients your baby might need. In just a matter of hours, you were starting to realize all that you didn’t have. 

You unzipped the pillow from its packaging, letting yourself feel the soft material against your chest. Although the knock at the door wasn’t loud, it startled you. Rafe appeared now in work boots, jeans, and a flannel. He held the doorknob in his hand and looked you over as if he hadn’t just seen you or picked out the exact outfit he wanted to see you in. You noticed he was even taller in those boots.

“What do you think?” He gestured to the pillow.

“Looks expensive,” You said simply.

“It had the best reviews,” he added, “You’ll have to let me know how you like it tomorrow morning.”

You stared back at him, shifting on your feet. "Can I show you something?" he asked, the door still wide open. A chance to leave. Of course, you’d take it. Faking compliance, you carefully stepped towards him. As you crossed the threshold of your room, you allowed him to place a hand on the small of your back. "The room right next door," he said.

Your eyes were anywhere but that door. You were scoping out the entire hallway. There were two more doors across the hallway, perhaps one of them was Rafe’s, and you spotted the staircase. The walls were painted a muted beige and adorned with several rustic paintings. The scent of mahogany lingered in the air, likely one of Rafe’s attempts to make this place feel like a home rather than a prison. You couldn’t turn your head far as Rafe was urging you forward. 

“I’ve been working on something,” When Rafe opened the door, you stepped inside a brand new nursery room, “Rose helped with the decorations, but  I can change anything that you don’t like.”

The wallpaper was decorated with blue flowers and little woodland creatures. A wooden crib sat in the corner, a white canopy draping right next to a rocking chair. The window on the far side of the room also looked out onto green pastures. Shelves on the walls were already adorned with toys and baby books. It was surreal. Beautiful and horrifying. You clutched your chest as you slowly walked around the room. 

“Rafe,” was all you could manage to say.

“I didn’t get a lot of clothes yet. I knew you’d want to pick those out,” His arms raised up, scratching his head as if he was nervous to see your reaction. Over the crib, you noticed the space-themed mobile you had picked out at the store gently hanging down. "It’s a good start, right?" he added, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

“It’s literally perfect,” You couldn’t lie at that moment, “Rafe, d-do you really think I would be that horrible of a mom on my own?”

“No,” He rushed out, his face falling, “What? No, I don’t think that.”

“I could never give my baby anything like this.”

He came closer, but you stepped back, “That’s not what I’ve been trying to say with all of this. I think you’d be a great mom. You’re gonna be a great mom.”

You needed to hear those words. Maybe Rafe was the wrong source but you needed that confirmation. In a moment of weakness, you let him closer. He wiped your tears as they began to fall, “It’s not about what you have, but I’m telling you that I won’t let you do it on your own,” He wrapped his arm around your waist and tear-eyed, and you let your head rest on his chest, “I’ll take care of every little worry. All you have to do is agree to be mine.”

“If you really care about me,” you said softly, letting him run his hands over your hair. “You’ll let me make my own choices.”

“Y/N–”

“I appreciate everything you’ve done. I really do,” You lied, “And I want this. I promise. I know JJ is no good for me or the baby. Could you just give me a little bit more time?”

“You’ll go back to him,” Rafe said. His grip on your waist tightened, and you pulled your head away from his chest, gazing up at him. 

“It’s not your baby. You know that, right?” It was the wrong thing to say. His nostrils flared, and your heartbeat quickened. There was no reeling it back, so you pressed him further, “Even if we don’t end up together, I wouldn’t keep his baby from him. That’s wrong.”

“What he’s done to you is worse.”

“You’re right,” You said, trying to maintain the calm, “I know that now. And I understand that you care about me-”

“Do you understand? Really understand? Huh?” 

“Rafe-” You pushed at his chest, and he grabbed your wrists tightly. Your eyes widened as you struggled against him, “Please don’t hurt me.”

Powerless, he held you there, “I’d love your baby like it was mine, I would. And soon after, we could have our own. That’s what I want, for us to be a family,” Each word was low, tight, and controlled as he glared down at you. 

“Okay,” You agreed, scared more than anything, “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll show you,” He was completely cold now, “If you don’t believe me, I’ll show you. How you deserve to be treated. Everything I can give you. Then you’ll see, huh?”

He forced you down to the plush blue carpet with his body weight. You weren’t used to how your center of gravity had shifted, how your belly was also keeping you from being able to push back against him, “Please,” You said over and over again, your arms flailing until he pinned them above your head. You were out of breath already, and you had to slow your movementsand stop your struggling just to catch your breath. In this position, the baby is pressed against your further against your diaphragm, “Rafe, don’t.”

He just looked at you hungrily, grunting as he pulled down your bottoms and underwear. 

“You’re so beautiful like this,” He reached between your legs, and you felt your body freeze, “Fucking gorgeous … I’m so lucky.”

You might’ve swooned in any other context. You were more swollen and much more sensitive, meaning you felt every caress that he made. You didn’t want to, but your head tilted back as he carefully rubbed your sensitive mound, “I’ll make you feel good … haven’t been touched in so long. Daddy’s gonna take care of you,” You told yourself that your body was just reacting, that it didn’t matter how good it felt because you didn’t ask for it. He kept your hands pinned only using one of his, as he used his other to undo his jeans. When he finally freed himself, able to palm his growing hardness through his briefs, he let go of your wrists. On your elbows, you tried to pull yourself away and you caught a glimpse of a smirk on his face. He liked this. Watching you struggle and attempt to crawl away. 

You yelped when he grabbed your hips, pulling you back and lifting them up at the same. He was inside of you before you could fully comprehend it. You could handle it if he thrust hard into you if he destroyed you fast, but Rafe took his time with you. There was no rush or hurry in his movements. He went as deep as you would take him, and his long strokes left you crying out with each one. 

You could handle it if it weren’t personal, but Rafe leaned over you and stared into your eyes with fierce determination. He talked you through every rush of pleasure, “I know, baby,” He’d coo when he knew it was too much, “Feels too good, don’t it?”

“I know you’re gonna cum for me,” He’d say when your eyes threatened to roll back into your head. “Cum all over me, baby,” He said when you finally couldn’t take it anymore. 

When he spilled into you, your body froze again. He cursed, his hips rutting into you. You felt every drop of him, and he didn’t pull out until he’d fully emptied himself inside of you. He sits back on his knees, and you hear him pull up his zipper. 

You flinched when you felt his hand on your thigh again.

“I’m sorry.”

What exactly he was apologizing for, you had no idea.

Rafe had gotten what he wanted because you didn’t speak out of turn once over the next two days. At some point, you expected the cavalry to arrive and come save you, but that hope shrank with each passing day. He invited you out of your room, and each time, you denied it. You easily recalled what happened the last time you left your room. You had all you could mentally handle within the room, and Rafe would bring you all three needed meals and snacks. You were quiet when he started the conversation, but you mustered up a few sentences for him when he grew frustrated at the lack of back and forth. 

You should have been focused on escape, but all you could think about was never letting him do to you again what he had done on the nursery floor. Being pregnant already made you feel like you had no control over your body. Rafe amplified that feeling, making you feel even more vulnerable and easily manipulated given your current state.

You spent most of the day sleeping, punctuated by long baths or staring out the window. Rafe woke up early each morning to tend to chores, the animals, and the early summer harvest. The vast expanse of land meant you didn’t see all the animals during the day, but in the afternoons when he fed Wrangler and Sadie, many of the animals rushed to the fence, hoping for scraps.

“Got you some books,” Rafe said when he came to see you around dinner time. To your disappointment, he wasn’t carrying any dinner with him. He set the stack of books on the dresser before adding, “And I ordered pizza.”

“Thank you,” you said, resting your head back down on your pillow, hoping that meant he’d bring it to you later. 

“Come watch a movie with me, I finally got the surround sound set up.”

“I’d like to eat up here, please?” You asked quietly, “I don’t feel good.”

“You haven’t felt good since you got here.” You let him sit in silence, “You’ll come eat downstairs tonight, Y/N.”

This was the first time you felt he was forcing you out of your room. You didn’t have the courage to upset him, so you lifted yourself out of the bed. He watched you intently, as if waiting for your compliance, aware of your recent streak of obedience. The way the look on his face softened was obvious, and you hated how relieved that made you feel. 

This time, he led you down the staircase, his hand gently guiding the small of your back as you held onto the railings. As you descended, you caught a glimpse of the front door, sunlight streaming in from the setting sun, but Rafe guided you in the opposite direction.

You passed through a large dining area with a substantial dark wooden table near the front of the house, then continued into a cozy living room. A plush sectional couch faced a massive stone fireplace, underneath which neatly stacked firewood awaited use. Above, a large flatscreen TV was mounted on the wall, flanked by windows dressed in simple, cream-colored curtains. Adjacent to the windows, a bookcase filled mostly with DVDs caught your eye.

He took the time to show you the downstairs bathroom and laundry room before leading you to the kitchen, which was located toward the back of the house. It was straight out of a magazine, spacious and well-appointed, complete with a charming breakfast nook. Many of the touches seemed to reflect Rose's influence, and seeing the rest of the house gave you a clearer picture of just how well-off he was.

A box of pizza sat atop the kitchen island, and Rafe pulled out one of the stools for you to sit on.

“You take care of this place all by yourself?” You asked as Rafe helped you into the seat.

“I’ve had some help,” He shrugged, “But I won’t need much help anymore now that you’re here.”

“You’re expecting me to take care of the house?” 

“Someday soon,” he spoke nonchalantly, opening the pizza box. He grabbed a slice straight from it and started eating so you assumed you could do the same. He added with a slightly full mouth, “Better than working at The Wreck.”

You took a bite of your pizza, not wanting to delve into that conversation further. You should’ve known he was expecting you to be a homemaker. Now that you were gonna be a Mom, you didn’t need to have any career aspirations. 

You picked at your slice under his careful eye. This house exuded a warmth that almost drowned out the coldness you felt toward Rafe. You took the time to map out all the windows and doors and the downstairs layout. It kept your mind busy and, combined with the food, provided a helpful distraction. 

“Are you feeling better now?” His voice cut through the silence. 

“I’m fine.”

“You still like those cheesy rom-coms?”

A memory flashed in your mind. You saw Rafe sitting across from you on his bed. A huge party was going on downstairs in Tannyhill, but you and he were upstairs watching a movie. You wanted so badly to show him Enchanted. He didn’t act impressed at the time, but you could tell he liked it because he couldn’t keep his eyes off the screen. 

“Yeah,” You answered cautiously, though the truth was that you hadn’t had time to enjoy a movie in long time. 

“I happen to have a few Patrick Dempsey movies … if that interests you,” He smiled, trying to tease you. 

“I really should get some rest . . .”

“A movie will help you relax. Just one? C’mon, we can watch Can’t Buy Me Love,” Realizing he wouldn’t let up, you gave in.

You sat on the couch as he moved to set up the movie. You should’ve known that he would sit right next to you, his arm wrapped around the pillows directly behind you, “Relax, enjoy the movie.” He said as the movie’s intro began, and you did your best to appear more like you were. When it wasn’t sufficient, Rafe pulled you closer until you could only lay against his shoulder to be comfortable. You tried to focus on one of your favorite movies and there were moments that night when you completely forgot your circumstance. 

Yet, every additional touch brought you sharply back to reality—whether it was the gentle circles his thumb traced on your arm or the tender kisses he placed atop your head.

Please let me know what your thoughts and predictions are! Reblog with a comment to be added to my taglist!

[bensolosbluesaber]

Nowhere to Run: Part 1 (Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader)

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader

Warnings: Hints of suicidal ideation on reader’s part, Fang stuff (Miguel uses fangs on reader), Chasing, Miguel is maybe ooc (I only saw the movie once and was mostly trying to keep from audibly moaning every time he was on-screen), Miguel and reader fight - he does some damage, Poison, Wounds, Not edited (but I will come back for some minor edits later on), Let me know if I missed anything

Summary: After the collapse of your universe, you resort to jumping around the multiverse to survive. Evolution gave you the powers needed to escape your universe. Technology of your own design stopped the glitches. But you haven’t found a way to escape the man relentlessly hunting you across every universe - Spider-Man 2099. ~2,500 words

Angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending

A/N: This is for all of us who watched the Nueva York chase scene/train sequence and thought ‘when do I get to be Miles?’ This is dedicated to the Miguel O’Hara editors on TikTok - you guys are doing god’s work over there (especially with the captions). There shouldn’t be any spoilers in here beyond what was shown in trailers, but tread as carefully as you feel you need.

EDIT: Part 2

--

A persistent tingle deep in your mind vibrated madly the closer Spider-Man 2099 was to you. It was your Spidey-sense warning you of danger.  For the first few months, you managed to stay several universe’s ahead of the terrifying Spider-Man variant, but after running for months with no one to help you, dodging the Spider-Person in each universe, and growing more exhausted with each portal you opened, 2099 was catching up.

He was catching up quite literally. The man was a few blocks behind you, pursuing you through the streets of a Queens in a universe you had never seen before. Buildings were built into trees. The entire city was a perfect symbiosis between nature and technology. It was beautiful, but there was no time to appreciate it. The time on your wrist ticked down. Seventy-six seconds. Seventy-five.

You shot out another web. It caught a window, and you took a sharp corner then another trying to lose the hunter.

Seventy seconds until you could safely open another portal. Well safe was a relative measure. Ideally you would allow a full day between jumps, but if you only had twelve hours, well then odds of survival rose to about fifty-fifty. Anything less than twelve hours and implosion was basically guaranteed.

Sixty-eight. You extended your legs for more momentum, rolled in the air, shot out two webs and used them to zip forward. Sixty-two. 2099 was fast, faster than you. You didn’t dare to look back to see if he was still in pursuit.

He protected the multiverse, kept it from collapsing in on itself, and you put the entire web of connection at risk just by being alive outside of your universe. You didn’t begrudge 2099 for what he thought he had to do. Maybe it was true that your presence could cause a universe to collapse, but you were careful not to stay for too long, not to interact with the Spider of that universe, not to fight any super-villains. If he could just understand that you were careful, that you didn’t want a multiversal collapse anymore than he did, maybe he would be reasonable.

Then again, maybe not. He was relentless, and from what little you had heard of Spider-Man 2099, he wasn’t one for talk and negotiation.

Fifty-five. You dived down, shot another web, swung again. You could never go back to your world’s boundless emptiness and not another living soul. That thought kept your exhausted muscles working. Fifty. The void was all that remained of your collapsed universe, a void in which you could not die but where no one else could live.

Forty-eight. Forty seven. This block was all future, half-built apartment buildings.

Thirty. You’d long ago lost your suit. All that remained was the mask that obscured your face. You must look ridiculous swinging around in stolen street-clothes: a baggy sweatshirt, leggings, dirty sneakers.

Twenty-one. Nearly there. Just a few-

A solid mass of muscle stole the breath from your lungs and flattened you into a cement wall. Claws shattered the cement beside your head into a fine gray powder. A hand closed around your throat, and you were crushed between the blue and red clad Spider-Man and the wall.

He was pure muscle. This was the closest you’d ever been to 2099, and his sheer size was terrifying. The red lines on his mask narrowed with his eyes as he studied you.

Eighteen. You pushed at his broad chest, struggling desperately to fight him off, but he was enhanced too and probably well-fed and rested - two things you were not.

“Stop fighting me,” 2099 growled into your ear, his voice a deep rumble that you felt in his chest.

“I won’t go back.” You choked out the words while you planted a knee against him and tried to kick him away. Your efforts were utterly useless. Quite literally, you could feel muscles rippling across his chest and arms as he held you against the wall while you trid to wriggle free.

In the corner of your eye, you watched the red numbers tick down. Six. Five. Was it even possible? It had to be.

2099 brought you forward then slammed you into the wall again. The impact made your head spin. The red lines of his mask doubled and tripled. He was trying to get something around your wrist.

“Hold still!”

Two.

With the last vestige of strength left in your body, you brought a hand to his face and shot a wad of webbing at his eyes. He growled and stopped his attempt to hand-cuff you - or whatever he was doing - to wipe the webbing away. For a second he was distracted. You imagined the glowing golden portal. Closed your eyes. Energy sparked in your body, coursed through your veins and arm. You shot a web at the wall behind you. It shimmered gold, dim gold, but still gold.

There was a moment where you thought it hadn't worked. Then the wall crumbled away and you felt wind whip you backward as a bright gold light filled the space. 2099 reached for you, claws extended. Four knife-like talons dug into your shoulder, ripping through the ratty sweater, digging into your skin, and tearing four long bloody stripes into your flesh as the portal drug you away..

You planted both feet on his stomach and kicked him off. A bright red web shot out from 2099’s hand to tangle in a tree. The last thing you saw was 2099 falling then catching himself before you tumbled away from him and toward a new universe.

--

It was raining on this new Earth. Actually, ‘raining’ was a bit of an understatement. It was absolutely pouring, and you were soaked before you hit the ground. Hard.

You hadn't been as focused as you needed to be, and the portal had opened in the sky and dropped you ten feet to the roof of a towering building in some universe’s version of New York. You couldn’t tear the mask from your face quick enough as you gasped desperately for air. 2099 was strong, and he’d smashed you half a foot into solid cement.

Your ribs ached. So did your head for that matter. But it was the dull ache spreading across your shoulder, down your arm, and seeping through your muscles like liquid fire that really made you afraid.

The gray of your stolen sweater was soaked in crimson blood. Carefully, you pushed the stained fabric over your shoulder.

Shit. Shit!

Beneath the torn fabric, your skin glowed a sickly, dare you say radioactive red - the same red as 2099’s suit. His talons must have been poisoned, and now that poison was making it’s way through your body, causing unknown damage and immense pain. There had to be a lab on this Earth. Right? If you could only get there, you were smart enough to whip up an antidote.

But as you stood, it was obvious that you wouldn’t be going anywhere. The poison was potent and fast-acting. Insanely, you wondered if it was really poison or if you should be calling it venom. It didn’t matter, because a moment after gaining your feet, your legs failed. You careened forward and nearly smashed your head again, only just catching yourself before slowly laying down in the rainwater.

City lights sparkled in the distance and reflected in the puddle forming around your head. Purple and blues and few bright yellows. Not a bad view if this was how you died. If only the poison weren’t so painful. You wanted to scream, but you lacked the strength.

A familiar tingle shot across your spine a second before the bright gold light of a portal obscured the reflection of the city lights. No! He was so close when you jumped universe’s. He must have tracked you; no wonder he hadn't bothered to chase you through the portal.

You scrambled backwards weakly, your feet struggling for purchase on the slick roof as the broad shouldered man appeared. He was wreathed in gold light. You couldn’t jump again, couldn’t even stand, could barely drag your body through the rain as Spider-Man 2099 strode closer.

“Nowhere to run,” he said. His voice was flat, like he took no pleasure in finally having you trapped.

“I won’t go back!” You tried to sound tough, strong, but your voice cracked over the words. “There’s nothing there. I can’t. I’d rather die than- than go back to nothing. 2099, don’t send me back”

Your fingers felt the ledge of the building and empty air beyond it. Poison. Fall. The clawed Spider-Man. A slow descent into madness trapped in the empty and endless remains of your home universe. A fall seemed fastest. But you didn’t want to. You were scared. You didn’t really want to die. Your shoulder throbbed and head filled with fog. The skin was glowing such a bright red you could see it in the corner of your eye.

In the brief moment you hesitated, he was on you. 2099’s red webs wrapped around your chest, and he yanked you forward and away from the ledge. You crumpled at his feet, and he just stared down at you through that mask. His blue and red mask swam in your vision as you stared up at him. Was it the rain that was so cold? Or was it the poison? No, venom. Poison? Venom?

2099’s face got bigger as he knelt beside you.

“What is this?” He pulled at the torn sweater, his gaze falling on the bright red mottling your skin.

Miguel O’Hara had never seen his claws damage anyone like this. There was no venom in them… unless in whatever universe you had come from something about them was venomous. It was possible. His fangs were venomous, that he did know.

Miguel pulled off his mask, the adrenaline of the chase fading while he watched you struggle for life. He’d meant to stop you, take you back to base, figure out where you’d come from… not kill you. He ran his tongue over one of the fangs protruding from his mouth.

The next thing you knew, 2099 was sitting next to you and pulling you onto his lap. It might have all been a dream, you couldn’t tell. The lights were so beautiful. Your head lolled to one side, your whole body limp as a ragdoll in his muscular arms. His face filled your vision and blocked out the pretty lights.

He had a strong jawline, dark curls, sharp cheekbones, a broad nose, and were those fangs? And were his eyes glowing red? Yes, two orbs as red as the suit and your poisoned skin shone down at you. He was pretty too. This had to be a dream. The monster chasing you couldn’t be so handsome. You blinked, eyes unfocused. Your Spidey-sense was going wild, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fight. 2099 was warm, and you could go to sleep right here.

He shifted your body again so your side was pressed against his chest. “2099,” you whispered weakly, pathetically.

“I’m sorry for this,” he whispered in that low growl. Now it was tinged with what almost sounded like real regret. “It’s the best I can think of.”

He guided your head to rest in the curve of his shoulder, face turned toward his neck. One hand brushed hair away from your neck, the other wrapped around your waist. His fingers were no longer clawed, and his movements were gentle as he held you close, muscles tensing underneath your body. The expression on his face was tender. It seemed impossible that this was the same man who had made you his prey for months.

“Don’t panic now,” he whispered as he lowered his lips to your neck. “Stay still.”

You were barely aware of what was happening. His lips were warm, then four sharp pricks stung the base of your neck just above your collarbone and the deep poisoned wounds. Panic tried to rise in your throat, but you weren’t conscious enough to really process that a man currently had his fangs sunk into your throat. He drew back and spit out bright red poison, then bit into you again. Then again. And again.

Miguel was exceptionally careful with you, holding you perfectly still and being sure to sink his fangs into the same spot each time so as not to mark your skin any more than necessary.

Slowly, the world began coming back into focus. You were exhausted, but the poison was being was successfully being leeched from your system by his fangs. Brown curls were the first thing you became aware of, then the almost unnatural warmth coming from the man beneath you, then the cold pricks on rain on your back, then... then that something was biting you. Before you could wrench your head back, a large hand cradled the back of your head. You desperately tried to struggle as you realized what this vampiric Spider-Man was doing to you. The muscles in his arm flexed as he held your head still.

2099 pulled his fangs from your neck, spit bright red then let go of your head. You sat up quickly. The movement made you dizzy.

“I know you’re scared.” Miguel could see the fear in your eyes. He nodded to your still glowing shoulder. It was dimmer now and hurt less, but it was still obvious poisoned. “But this is working. Let me help you.”

You were looking him right in the eyes, the glowing red eyes, and though you didn’t trust him, you knew instinctively he was right.

“Okay,” you breathed lowly.

You laid your head on his shoulder. Miguel could feel how your whole body trembled, but whether it was from fear or cold or something else entirely he couldn’t tell. When his lips touched your skin you whimpered. That was fear.

Miguel still had one arm around you, but he took your hand in his free one, interlaced your fingers, and squeezed once. Then he sunk his fangs into your neck. It stung a bit but didn’t really hurt. Now that your were conscious, you could feel the poison being drawn toward the spot where his mouth connected to your skin. That didn’t really hurt either. It was like stretching a sore muscle - a satisfying pain that ultimately brought relief.

2099 drew back to spit out his poison. When was the last time you’d touched someone like this? A touch that was more than an accidental brush in the street - or a purposeful one so you could steal someone’s wallet. 2099 was your enemy, your hunter. He was dangerous. But he was saving your life and holding you so tenderly it made your chest ache.

“Once more,” he promised.

His fangs brushed over your skin for the last time. You pulled your hand from his and splayed your fingers across his chest. 2099 brought his now free hand to your poisoned shoulder and pushed the ripped fabric apart.

Miguel watched the last of the poison be pulled from your veins as it filled his mouth. He spit it out then turned back to study how your body was pressed against him.

“Can you stand?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. Then panic hit and you jerked back, still sitting on his lap but with your face now safely away from his fangs. “You- you’re going to send me back. 2099, please don’t.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? My name is Miguel.”

Miguel. 2099 had a name. Of course he did, but hearing it made him seem so human. And his face was handsome. That was no venom or poison induced hallucination. The man was beautiful.

“And no. Not yet.”

“My universe collapsed. There’s nothing for me to go back to.”

His red eyes softened as they met yours.

“We won’t send you back to an empty universe,” he paused, and one side of his lips twitched up. “You ran because you thought I’d send you back to a void? I see I have quite the reputation.”

Miguel lifted you to your feet easily. He set you on your feet and tapped the watch-like contraption on his wrist. You leaned against his muscled chest for stability. Even without his poison, you were still wounded and tired and malnourished. A portal spiraled out in front of you both.

“You promise not to send me back there?” You looked up at Miguel. He squinted at the portal’s bright light and tugged the mask back over his face.

“Promise.”

To be continued... 

Part 2

-- 

A/N: Part 2 will be a little time jump, and we’ll actually see Miguel and reader get into a relationship!

My Masterlist

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Taglist (Want to be added? Click here.) - 

@copingchaos @n1ght5h4d3-24 @paintmekala @chaoticevilbakugo @janebby @chaoticevilbakugo @weirdo125 @roseqzpd @bitchyglitterfox @m0nster-fvcker @romanarose

Won’t Tag: @janebby @marvelescvpe

If you want taken off, just let me know! I took a guess on who might be interested.

[a-b-riddle]

Know Your Place (2)

The knot of guilt had twisted into straight up anxiety. You didn't do repeats, but fuck if you didn't want to feel Johnny's mouth against you again. He treated you like you wanted to be treated: cared for and absolutely defiled.

It was electrifying.

And it terrified you.

You rarely canceled hookups when they had gotten to the point where the one night delight had sent you confirmation of their STD panel. Yet here you were sprinting to the hotel where you had met Johnny a month ago.

And when you walked back into that lobby, it was dejavú.

He was sitting at the bar; eyes glued to the door. He’d been waiting. Just like last time. Maybe that's what had set the night off to such a different start. He wasn't scrolling on his phone or making idle chit chat with the bartender to pass the time. He had made it known in subtle ways that as much as this may have been a means to blow off steam, it was about being with you.

With as much confidence as you could muster, you sauntered over to him, heart fluttering wildly in your chest. His tight navy blue Henley was doing him and you a favor. His denim jeans would undoubtedly hug his ass in such a way it was make you and sculptors envious.

The bastard was handsome and he damn well knew it.

"What changed yer mind?"

Fuckkkkkkkk

Fuck. You remembered he had an accent, but fuck you forgot how it practically made you pray that he was the type of man who liked to dirty talk, give directions.

Prayers: answered.

You shrugged. Trying to come off as nonchalant when in reality you couldn't get out of that lounge soon enough. "I wanted to do it again." Jesus. Be a little less brash. "With you." You quickly add. Fuck, why was this so awkward. "I wanted to do this again with you."

Those blue eyes scaled up and down your body, taking you in. It didn't matter that you knew he wanted you. It didn't matter that he had seen you naked. It didn't matter that he had told you multiple times how fucking stunning he found you. There was always that nagging feeling in the back of your head going

Is he looking at my stomach? God, I shouldn't have worn this. i should have worn spanx. I look like a busted can of biscuits.

The ugly thoughts almost made you shift in discomfort under his gaze, but you held firm, reciting your mantra in your head.

You are desirable. You are worth pleasure. You are in control.

“Ye want it like last time or are ye goin’ to let me fuck you properly?” And just like that, your confidence was taken down a peg. You had took penetrative sex off the table for about two years. It wasn't anything traumatizing, it wasn't painful. It just wasn't as good.

You've found that there was an assumption that bigger girls were able to take it more roughly. And after a few times of men treating their dicks like battering rams, intercourse was a course that was no longer on the menu. Plus with the only option being oral, you mostly always came and your partners were far more enthusiastic. Win-win.

“I can’t cum that way.” You crossed your arms, your tits perking up in hopes of making him remember how good it felt to titty fuck you. How hot you looked with his cum all over your face and chest. When his eyes didn't leave yours, you decided to relent. He gave you the best not one, not two, but three orgasms of your life and if you had stayed like he had asked, he probably would have given you several more. At this point you were curious. If his mouth can do all those deliciously despicable things, you wanted to know what his cock could do.

“Don’t get upset if I don’t.” You ordered, not caring if the bartender heard you. “I haven’t faked it since college and so my pornstar moaning may not be up to par." Johnny smirked before shooting the rest of the amber colored liquor in front of him.

He stood up, practically towering over you before leaning in and whispering, “Oh, I’ll have ye moanin’ just fine, Bonnie.”

Yep.

Definitely curious.

There was no foreplay this. No slow undressing. Not delicately exploring each other's bodies. It was feral and carnal and something neither of you had anticipated. Not even desire, but pure need to be touching each other again.

Johnny's shirt was the first thing that was taken off, and before the door had even fully closed. His mouth was on yours instantly. Tasting you as if it let him breathe easier. His hands worked at the zipper of your dress with expertise. Not allowing it to fall from the floor before he started working on your bra. His mouth never leaving yours.

You normally would reprimand a date for their eagerness, but you needed this just as much as he did. Needed his hands on you, in you. And more importantly you knew that Johnny can deliver you to paradise on a silver fucking platter.

By the time both of you were fully undressed, the sound of soft pants filled the room as if both of you had forgotten to pull away from the other's lips and come up for air. When you did, your brain went on autopilot.

You sank down to you knees in front of him. One hand resting on your thigh while the other took hold of him. He sucked in air through his clenched teeth as one of his hands made its way home into the crown of your hair.

Seeing him stare down at you with glossy eyes and an open mouth made you promptly spit on the head of his cock. Stroking your hand up and down to coat his entire shaft.

"Fuckin' Christ," he groaned. "I dinnae stand a chance with you, did I?" You weren't what he meant. Did he think he was the reason you initially didn't want to meet up again? Or was it something else? No. It couldn't be.

In response you gave his shaft a tight pump. And another. And another. Rolling your wrist against his already leaking head. Not breaking eye contact you dragged your tongue up the underside of his cock before taking the tip in your mouth. Flattening your tongue and teasing the slit, feeling the ridges underneath before taking him deep into your throat.

Tears prickled your eyelids as you felt him pulsing in your mouth. "That goddamn mouth." His eyes shut in concentration. "Need ye to stop before I fuckin' cum, Bonnie." It was a warning that you didn't plan on listening to. At least not until his grip in your hair tightened, still soft enough not to be painful, but firm enough to make your soaked cunt clench.

"Naughty fuckin' minx." he growled hoarsely. "Think I'd just come down your throat and we'd be done?" You nod, his hand loosening with your movement. "You'll have to be punished for that. Trying to make me cum two minutes in like a goddamn school boy." His blue eyes burned into you. You had almost wished he came if not to give him the same euphoric feeling he was giving you, right now and without even touching where you ached the most.

"Open your thighs and let me look at that pretty pussy. " His voice was gravely and stern. You leaned back, pressing your palms against the cool hardwood floor as you parted your thighs. He wasted no time in crouching down and sliding his fingers through your slick folds.

"Fuck." You whimpered as he softly grazed your clit with each stroke. Never missing.

"This all mine?" He asked. You let out a weakened yeah before your body bucked. "So sensitive." His mocking tone pulled out that masochistic part of you that loved to be degraded. "On the bed, on your knees."

You got off your knees, feeling the blood return to your feet from being in such an awkward position on the floor. You obeyed his orders, letting him take control even though that was not what either of you had in mind.

"So what are you gonna do?" You attempt to add a sense of mocking to your tone, but you're breathless. Definitely getting in some cardio tonight. "I'm not much into corporal beatings. I'm a fan of the occasional swat, but not really a get over my knee and count type of girl."

"No, but I plan to make you beg to cum," he said, the hair on his hair tickling your back. "And make you see how good you can take my cock."

He gripped your cheeks, kneading and spreading them before settling his eyes on what he had been after. "So I take it you're an ass man." You say it with such casualty he had no choice but to bark out a laugh.

"No, Bonnie," he answered, giving the flesh a firm squeeze. "I'm a this-ass man." He leaned forward, stroking his tongue over the puckered ring. Having to hold you by the fat of your ass, giving it a squeeze to keep you in place.

"Oh my god." Your hands gripped the bed sheets, mouth hanging open and eyes clinched shut. Fuck. Oral was on the table, but neither of you had talked about rimming. Most guys you knew never mentioned it and honestly with how some men kept up with their personal hygiene, you weren't exactly up for returning the favor. But if Johnny made you feel like this, you would gladly reciprocate.

He brought his hand down, stroking the back of your thigh, his tongue never stopping as he slid two fingers inside you. You instinctively slid your knees further apart, granting him easier access.

Good pet. If Johnny's tongue hadn't been working your asshole he would have delivered the words of praise just to gauge your reaction at the name. Pet.

"I'm so close." You moaned. "Please don't stop." Your pleading was cute, but it wasn't enough.

"No," he said, slowing down his fingers. "I'm not gonna give it to ye' til yer beggin. Ye' wanted to make the rules. No penetration. No repeats. Ye' said ye' don't cum from fucking and I'm about to break that rule too."

You weren't sure if it was agony or the best thing you ever felt, but he resumed his work. Only slowing down when you began to rock against his face and tighten around his fingers before he would slow down or pull away.

After the 8th time your orgasm escaped you, you kicked your feet against the bed in the cutest fucking tantrum the man had ever witnessed. "Johnny, please!" you begged.

"Please, what?" He teased, his breathe now blowing against your weeping, sore cunt. "What do you need, Bonnie?"

"Please make me come. Please fuck me. Pleaaaaassseee. Just let me come." You practically squealed out when his fingers entered you again. Pressing your face into the pillow you able to muffle your pitiful, pathetic cry.

"Fuck ye?" He taunted, curling his fingers as he kneeled behind you. The tip of his cock brushing against the inside of your thigh. Fuck. It was too heavy to even go upright. "Thought that sort of thing didn't work for ye."

"Johnny, please." you said, shaking your ass like a bitch in heat. Looking for more friction. "I can't-- fuck-- you have to--- please." You couldn't think you just needed this knot inside of you to unwind before it ripped you apart.

"Ye beg so pretty for me." He said, stroking his cock as you started to lose your mind. "Makes me almost feel sorry for ye, but you need more control than that." He tsked as he took his hand out and brushed the back of his fingers against your puffy cunt. Stifling a laugh as you jerked away. "Is it too much?" He asked, lining his cock up and stroking your folds.

"Please." You whimpered and that was it. Johnny knew that you weren't leaving him a second time. Not when he looked in the mirror to the right and could see how your mascara began to run down your face. You're the perfect girl for them. The perfect pet.

"Tell me, Bon. Need me to finish ye' off?" He asked pushing the tip in and only pulling away when you attempt to throw your ass against him. Huffing when he did.

"Yes!" You cried. "Please please please."

His hand snaked around your throat, cupping your jaw before he turned your head to look into the mirror. Your bodies glistened with sweat and the sight was something you would keep stored in your memory forever.

"I want ye you to see how fuckin' gorgeous you look while yer takin' my cock." He growled out, his tone darker than you had ever heard him before.

"Yes, sir." You breathed out. Another remind on how you'd adjust easily with them.

He slowly slid into you and for that you were thankful. The burn of the stretch equaled the pleasure that coursed through you as he filled you.

His slow deep thrusts made your head swirl. Over and over, the sounds of your sopping wet cunt and soft moans and groans escaping the two of you. You braced yourself as he started picking up the pace, but it still wasn't enough. You still teetered on that edge, so close to tipping over.

For several minutes he fucked you knowing that you were so close to coming, but being too much of a sick bastard to give in without you showing him how desperate you were for it.

"Rough," you eventually sobbed, your back arching as your head fell against the bed. "Want you- rough, please." You choked back a scream as he drove his hips foward.

"Keep those fucking eyes open and don't you dare cum until I tell ye' to," was his only demand as he held onto your waist and fucked you how he wanted to that first night.

Sounds of slapping flesh and soft whimpers filled the room as Johnny brought you to seeing the face of god.

"Johnny Johnny," you squealed your orgasm gaining on you. It wasn't until you felt his thumb applying just the right amount of pressure on your asshole did you begin to fall apart. "fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck."

Some books say that orgasms are like seeing stars or electricity coursing through your body. In reality it is waves. Waves of euphoria crashing down. It's that high you get from holding your breath too long and taking that much awaited breath.

Johnny's orgasm quickly followed and when you felt his cock pulsing inside you, it brought on another orgasm. Johnny hissed as you tighten against his now sensitive cock, but admiring the sight when he pulled out.

His spend leaked out of you.

"Guess we got kind of caught up. Dinnae even think about getting a rubber." It wasn't an apology, but he at least wanted to seem like he was sorry for coming inside you.

"UDI." You replied, eyes closed and head still reeling from the aftershock of that second orgasm.

"What?" He asked, making you realize you were incoherent and most likely stroking his ego even more.

"IUD, fuck, sorry." You correct. He let out a chuckle before you rolled over, arm covering your eyes as you try to gain some You felt his cum begin to slide down to your thighs. "I'm gonna go clean up." You inform before rolling awkwardly off the bed, if not to save the poor maids from having to see the evidence on the sheets.

When you came back into the room, Johnny was on the bed. Still naked as a jaybird with his softened cock resting against his thigh.

This was always the awkward part. The departure. The gathering of clothes and minimal eye contact.

"Well, I should be-" you started bending over to retrieve your bra before he stopped you.

"If ye fuckin' leave like ye did last time that ass of yours will be meetin' my belt, now lay down."

"Excuse me?" your tone is more confused if anything. He said it without a hint of anger, authority or sterness and yet you had to refrain from scurrying into the bed.

"I get ye' may not be a cuddlin' type of gal, but I am a cuddlin' type a man. Leaving me without the proper aftercare isn't a good look on ye, Bonnie." He threw you a lopsided grin. His hands resting on the back of his hands, making you want to see if riding those biceps of his would get you off as easily as it would riding his face.

"Besides," he shrugged. "Ye' came before I let you."

"I tried to hold it off." You argued before dropping your bra back unto the floor and crawling next to him. "I just never had to."

"That's the whole point." He said, rolling over to face you. "Seeing ye come undone whether ye want to or na." He scooted closer. The front of his body touching yours as his hand came up to cradle your jaw. Lightly brushing his thumb against your bottom lip as he spoke. "And ye'd been so adamant about not being able to cum on my cock. Such a good girl for me."

"So you're not going to punish me?" You tried to mock, but were actually curious about what kind of man Johnny really was in bed. He had no problem taking control, but what other kinks did he have lurking below the surface.

"I can punish ye," he winked. "but I think ye might like it too much." You huffed air out of your nose, wanting to bury your head into his chest, worried that the action may be too intimate for what this was.

What you were.

[aka-indulgence]

Man of the Hour

Decided to make a lil snippet of that J&H idea…

Dr. Sans Aster has been gone for a concerning amount of time, so you decide to pay him a visit (only because you’re a good neighbour.) Instead, you see a face you hadn’t hoped to meet.

——————

It was a miserable night. You tuck your coat tighter around you as you approach the Aster Manor. It looks so welcoming during the day, but at night… it looks haunted, almost. You wonder how Sans likes living here.

It’s been a while since you’ve seen the good doctor. Usually you take a detour to or from the morning market, passing by his residence, and calling up to him in his room on the 2nd floor. After a few times, usually you’d be greeted by the window opening and the skeleton leaning out. Sometimes he’d appear from his labroom window, after an overnight bout of unknown experiments. (The monster kept much to himself, and in a roundabout way instead made him more popular.) For the past few days, however, the window has remained shut, and you haven’t heard any sound of activity from the upper floors.

You would’ve asked others but after a conversation with a friend,

“You talk about Sans a lot. Do you have a thing for him?”

You’ve decided against making your infatuation with the doctor too obvious.

Nevertheless, your morning conversations with him has been a comforting consistency that you miss severely. You’ve tried ignoring it, but today you caved. After another morning of no response, you decided to visit the abode after sundown- if the doctor was busy during the day, surely he’d be resting by now?

You walk up to the dimly lit door and reach for the knocker.

Thunk

Thunk

Thunk

 … You didn’t have to wait long before you hear what sounds like smart shoes approaching the door on the other side. You get excited, gripping your coat.

But when the door opens, it isn’t Sans that answers the door.

A deer monster looks at you, his outfit that of a formal servant’s.

“Yes?”

You try not to show your disappointment. But surely… this didn’t mean Sans was absent.

“Good evening, sir… I’m sorry to have bothered you this late at night, but, is Dr. Sans home?”

“Dr. Aster?”

You mentally smack your face- you can’t seem too intimate with him. Your friends would tease you while other people would think you’re being disrespectful.

“I’m sorry, miss. The doctor has been away from home for three days now.”

“Th… three?” Concern floods your voice. “Did- did he tell you where he went?”

“I’m afraid not. The doctor goes on many excursions, often without telling his servants. Just last month he traveled for a week before returning.”

“A week…?”

“He returned every morning. But he informed us only to look for him if he’s been gone for more than a month.”

A month?! That’s even worse than you thought!

He could disappear for a whole month…?

“What is he doing?”

“He does not tell us, miss.”

You frown. “So I assume he isn’t here tonight?”

“No. I’m sorry I could not be of more help to you,”

You sigh. “That’s alright. At least I know a bit more about what he’s doing. Thank you for the information.”

The deer monster bows and closes the door as you walk out of the yard.

You have a bad feeling about this. Not to mention the nasty rumors around town…

There was a new face in town. One unwelcomed by everyone. A man named Horruer just… appeared one day. You’ve never met the man, but you’ve heard nothing good about him. There were rumors of him having ties to Sans, though the story varied from person to person. Your friend believed in the rumor of him blackmailing the doctor.

“He has servants and a house, and I think Dr. Aster funds him..? That sounds highly suspicious to me.”

She said he had a frightening appearance, but hard to describe. Just that he was also a skeleton monster. Some people thought he might be an estranged family member. You don’t know what Sans has to say about it all, though. You hoped Sans was safe, that he didn’t owe the man any favors.

You were deep in your thoughts. Missing his smile, how his soft eyelights would glow when he laughed during the few times you met the doctor out of home, drinking tea together. He was such a smart man… a conversationist, liked by all. His topics were engaging, and he was surprisingly humorful.

Would it be too hopeful to imagine him liking you back..?

Distracted, you don’t register the large body in front of you, and crash into a wall of a man, and stumble forwards.

Before you could mutter apologies, the man starts snarling, a primal sound.

“idiot- don’t you use your eyes when you-?!”

You startle, standing at attention after you turn around. What you see isn’t a face, but a chest. You swallow before you bring your eyes up to see… a new, but known face.

A big red eye is looking down at you. You watch the pupil in its center shrink into a pinprick, edges sharpening. You’re frozen under his stare- despite never having seen him, it’s obvious who this stranger was.

Mr. Horruer.

He was maybe twice your size, in height and width. Almost as big as the large front doors of Sans’ manor. His shoulders were broad, and so was his chest. He was built like a fortress of bones. Though he wore proper clothing, he didn’t look the part. His outer coat was unbuttoned and lopsided. His waistcoat covered more, but the top and middle were unbuttoned. His tie was undone, draped under his collar. His coat didn’t seem old, but it was crinkled.

His teeth was jagged- you aren’t sure if they were sharp canines or if they were simply messy. His eyesockets were mismatched, unlike Sans’. One socket housed the large red orb that peered down at you, while the other was dead, devoid of light. Your eyes trailed up to his head, seeing something peek out of his hat…

The monster gasped, teeth becoming set as he holds it down, covering whatever it was. You flinched- you weren’t thinking. You’ve heard that Mr. Horruer was neurotic about never being seen without his hat. You heard of Mr. Enfield having a rough bump with the skeleton and almost knocking his hat off- the altercation almost turned violent.

You felt your fingers grow cold. The man was more terrifying than what you’ve heard the townsfolk have said. You’ve met many monsters in this town but Horruer was truly monstrous. Just looking at him made your spine tingle unpleasantly, like there was instinctual in you that told you this man was dangerous.

You hear a crack, and see his bony hands turned to fists beside him, and his breathing grow louder, every breath causing his upper body to rise and fall. His teeth was still set, and his eye hadn’t moved.

Your body screamed- you were in danger.

“I-I’m so sorry. I di-didn’t see anything. So sorry, Mr. Horruer,” you stuttered, taking a few frightful paces back before you turned on your heel and ran home.

It was crass, clumsy, impolite, and frankly, unladylike. But you didn’t want to know what Horruer could do with his hands, and you didn’t want to find out if the rumors of his aberrant ‘hobbies’ were true or not.

He looked like he was itching to kill me.

You felt something red burning a hole into your back as you fled.

…

…

…….

“... (y/n).”

[maddie7writes]

EXS AND OHS

summary : y/n and harry are recently engaged, but in y/n’s line of work, she runs into lots of his exs and their not all happy for the couple

warnings : just bitter people

harry’s dating history wasn’t exactly a secret, but the list of exs would come to a hault, as the 50,000 dollar diamond sat on y/n’s ring finger with pride. but y/n wasn’t exactly a nobody, she had two vouge covers and three world tours under her belt along with opening and closing fashion week malin, paris, and new york, and not to mention several blockbuster movies.

she was kind of a big deal.

but in her line of work, she had lots of run ins with her loves exs, and they weren’t always pleasant.

—

y/n was booked for victorias secrets comeback show, and she was a nervous wreck. her strict diet made harry worried sick, and her coworkers were starting to worry y/n.

“and you’re sure you want to come? i understand if you don’t—.” “—y/n i love you. i’m goin’ to be at everything for the rest of your life. even if my ex is there.” he assured with a kiss to her forehead. she sighed, and a week later found herself in hair and makeup getting ready to strut out like she was on top of the world.

“make sure to flash that ring okay? it’s been on covers for the past month.” her agent said, as she stared down the poor hair and makeup crew. y/n heard a distant scoff in the background but she chose to ignore it. “i thought for the show it had to come off?” y/n asked, she didn’t exactly want to part with it but she didn’t want to break any rules. “not when the one who gave it to you is harry styles. trust me, the show will be memorable because of the ring.” her agent scoffed with a few taps to her phone then back to insane staring.

just then, the busty, perfectly thin blonde, with small bronze chrome wings came walking around in lingerie. “the reason he never proposed to me is because his taste in rings never met my standards.” camllie gossiped to a fresh faced girl, clearly new-ish to the modeling world. y/n rolled her eyes and kept her thoughts to her self.

when y/n got out of hair and makeup she was draped in gold lingerie with diamonds dripping from the bra. it was for their anniversary line, and the bralette would only be sold to select clientele. the matching panties were gold as the metal brushed the modesty garment she wore. then large gold wings were applied, weighing less then she has anticipated.

“she’ll open, then jenner and rowe will follow ten paces behind, wait at the top of the runway and walk back before them.” a manager explained to y/n and her agent. y/n nodded before being moved to were she was directed, greeting kendall with a smile and hug.

“i haven’t seen you in forever!” kendall smiled and embraced her, the two went on a brand trip together before she got engaged and at the start of her and harry’s relationship and ended up sipping on margaritas and gossiping on a yacht the whole time. privileged and elite? sure, but they had a great time.

“i know, we have to do a trip just us.” y/n smiled, kendall was already grabbing her hand to see the ring. “god! he’s always had good taste but y/n this is gorgeous.” she gasped and looked between the ring and y/n. camille scoffed beside her. “please, the diamond has a blue tint. i doubt it’s even real.” camille rolled her eyes.

“it’s tinted blue because he chose to not stain it. he went water mining when we were in bali, someone helped him find it, and he chose to not stain it.” y/n clarified, just like that the lights cut and ariana grandes unmistakable vocals of dangerous woman was heard, y/n was counted off and she strutted out.

—

y/n would definitely say her least favorite job was acting. there was so much drama in almost every romance movie she’s filmed, so when she was casted as gwen for the fourth spider-man movie to bring a love triangle into poor spider-man’s life, she was excited that it would be an action movie even if she was playing a love interest.

that was of course until she figured out who would be working on the movie with her.

olivia wilde.

y/n tried to remain professional, tho it was difficult with tom seeing as he was so giggly about everything, and zendya was laughing about how forced tom looked. everything was more natural with tom and zendya tho, so to switch between his girlfriend and his friend must have been weird for tom, so y/n tried to keep that in mind and remind her it wasn’t her fault the scenes weren’t working the way she wanted them to.

however one of the directors did not agree.

“y/n, can you step off set for a moment.” olivia’s voice sounded, tom looked confused as did y/n before she stepped off set as she was asked and followed oliva nervously.

“is there an issue?” y/n asked. oliva scoffed, “of course there is. this scene should have taken four takes, max. we have over forty of you and tom laughing. if you can’t play a love interest we will have to find someone who can.” she scolded, y/n was slightly offended.

two actors that have never worked together, taking on a role in a movie where they’re meant to be navigating love together, is not easy. and their first kissing scene might take a few try’s, but that’s not enough to threaten y/n’s contract over.

“unfortunately you might want to check the contract marvel signed, this is not cause for termination, and you cannot terminate my contract period. but if you would like to submit a claim that i am unable to preform my required task, i will happily take that battle with management. i really don’t want to waste anyone’s time so should i head back to set or?” y/n looked at oliva innocently with a smirk, brushing her hair back so her ring caught the light.

“watch you back, l/n.”

“styles. but close.”

safe to say y/n reported that threat and oliva wasn’t heard from again.

—

“you look absolutely divine.” harry came up behind her, kissing the exposed skin on her neck from her half slicked wave, old hollywood hairstyle. y/n laughed as she looked at them in the mirror. harry, in his colorful sparkly patch work jumpsuit, and her in her all black,

a-symmetrical neckline of the all black floor length dress she wore. their two personalities showing on their faces. she was so excited for tonight, she had a good feeling about harry’s changes of the trophy.

“you ready to sweep tonight?” she asked, he blushed. “don’t jinx me, the grammys don’t tend to like me.” he said in a hushed voice, y/n rolled her eyes and kissed her husbands cheek deeply. “not this year. i can feel it.”

her words ended up being true, with harry’s complete sweep. he was overcome with emotion, and y/n sat with him through all of it. holding his hand and even kissing him when he induced it, which was rare seeing as he hated pda especially when cameras were around.

they had plans to skip the after party and go get a pizza with the band and team, then go home and celebrate like old people with sleep. however their plans were put to a hault when taylor swift approached. y/n, ever the swiftie, was sure she was about to pass out as she squeezed her fiancés hand.

“congratulations harry.” she smiled and hugged him briefly before turning back to y/n. “and your performance was amazing, i had no idea your range was so good?” taylor said, y/n’s eyes went wide and she nodded. “oh yeah- yeah thanks.” she tried to laugh it off and leaned into harry’s comforting touch, he tried to hold back a laugh and taylor could tell.

“i have a few ideas and i want you to be a part of it, here’s my number— new number—.” she glanced at harry. “—and call me, so we can start scheming.” she winked at y/n, who was definitely dead. “congrats again harry.” she patted his shoulder before turning around and going to find her other friends.

“holy shit.” y/n whispered as she clutched taylor swifts number. harry chuckled and kissed her, “we can call her in the morning yeah? pizza and sleep okay?” he said, only to be welcomed with a large kiss and a i love you.

four months later, here y/n was, doing her one night only with taylor fucking swift.

harry was sitting in the 1989 friends and family box, with gigi, zayne, and their daughter as they caught up. gigi made sure to comment on how harry’s all access pass said ‘STYLE MUSE’ instead of harry styles.

the concert was perfect, everything was amazing. after all, taylor was considered the one of the best performers of all time. then as she stayed on stage after her two surprise songs, fans cheered even louder than usual.

“i actually have something i want to give you guys.” fans bracelets began flashing blue as screams could almost shatter the stadium, taylor laughed.

“i think you guys noticed i skipped style tonight.” she smirked, louder screams were heard and y/n stood backstage in her light blue wide legged pants, and white satin top. waiting nervously for her cue as they adjusted her headset and in ear microphone.

“i also want to throw in just one more surprise song, just for you guys!l she said excitedly, but didn’t wait for the crowd to quiet as she used the mic to talk over them. “please welcome miss y/n styles!” she screamed, and the stadium screamed back as the beat to style began to play.

harry recorded like a proud husband and sang along to every word as he watched y/n dance around on stage, in her element to a song he inspired.

“you got that long hair slick back white t-shirt.” both the girls flicked part of their hair over to imitate harry back in one direction, and ran a hand from their neck down to their pelvis as they sung, then tossed one shoulder and strutted down the diamond like models. which y/n was, harry thought to himself.

style passed, the loudest cheer in the whole room came from harry. so happy to see the woman he loved getting to work with her idol and be so happy doing it.

“i think there’s one more that goes to perfectly with us, don’t you think taylor?” y/n asked, fighting back the happy tears in her eyes. taylor bit back a smile and nodded, “what do you think Los Angeles?” she asked, they screamed. and the beat to i think he knows began to play.

the girls sang and danced along with the crowd, harry didn’t know this song very well so he was hyper focused on making sure to get all of y/n’s performance while also watching her.

“he’s got that boyish look that i like in a man.” y/n sung, and stopped dancing as she looked at taylor.

“i am an architect i’m drawing up the plans.” taylor copied the movements.

“he’s so obsessed with me and boy i understand.” y/n flipped her hair jokingly, making sure to flash the ring before both girls turned to face each other taylor grabbing y/n’s hand to look at the ring before screaming the line; “boy i understand!”

harry’s heart was skipping around 13th avenue.

[dephoraowo]

The Wen Remnants were Wei Wuxian's Family

Wei Wuxian had multiple families before. He had his parents, but they died. He had the Jiangs, but they weren't really his family to begin with. He was never treated like a family member in the household, and he never belonged in the family either.

I feel like the real family that he had in his first life were the Wen remnants.

“…Who cares about the broad and bustling highway?” He humphed. “I prefer to follow the single-plank bridge into the darkness… Into! The! …Into the darkness?”

When he sang out the word “darkness,” he suddenly noticed that it wasn’t dark at all. The black summit he always returned to was vastly different tonight.

The area around the few little huts had been swept clean; even the weeds had been pulled. Several round, vibrantly red lanterns hung in the nearby woods, dangling from branches. The lanterns were all handmade. While they were simple and crude, they emitted a warm light that illuminated the pitch-black forest.

The fifty-odd people would usually have finished their meals and holed up in their run-down shacks by now, with the lights extinguished. But tonight, they were all gathered in the most spacious hut. That hut, which consisted of a rooftop held up by eight wooden stakes, could accommodate everyone. The small structure next to it was the “kitchen,” so this had become the dining hall.

He saved them when they were slowly being killed. He did it because it was the right thing to do. And he was the only one who willingly laid down his life for them.

Life may be cruel for them, but they made the most of it with each other.

Wei Wuxian, finding the sight strange, walked over with Wen Yuan under his arm. “Why is everyone here today? Not heading off to bed? It’s so bright with all those lanterns.”

Wen Qing walked out of the kitchen, carrying a plate. “The lanterns were hung for your sake, oh elder one. Let’s make more tomorrow and hang them on the mountain path. It’s not easy to find your way around in the dark. You’ll trip and break a bone one of these days.”

“Come now, even if I break a bone, don’t we have you?” Wei Wuxian said.

“I certainly don’t want to do extra work. It’s not like I get paid for it,” Wen Qing shot back. “If you do break a limb, don’t blame me for bruising you when I set it.”

...

“What, you guys haven’t eaten yet?” Wei Wuxian asked. “Nah. We were waiting for you,” Wen Qing answered.

“Why are you waiting for me? I already ate,” Wei Wuxian said.

As soon as he spoke, he realized he’d made a mistake. Sure enough, Wen Qing slammed a plate onto the table, and the red chili peppers sprinkled over the vegetables bounced with the impact.

“No wonder you didn’t buy anything. You spent everything at a restaurant, didn’t you?” Wen Qing raged. “I’ve only got so much money, and I gave it all to you. Look at how carefree you are with your spending!”

“No! I didn’t…” Wei Wuxian tried explaining himself.

Look at Wen Qing and Wei Wuxian's cute little banter 😆. To me, they are the most iconic duo. The way he trusts Wen Qing to help him out with his injuries is so natural! I bet they were really close to each other. Maybe even as close as siblings!

The other cultivators busied themselves with setting out chopsticks and pouring tea, saving the head seat for Wei Wuxian. Seeing them like this made him feel uncomfortable about accepting the gesture.

Over the past few months, he had been fully aware that the Wens were somewhat afraid of him. These people had heard of his vicious name and his insane deeds during the Sunshot Campaign. They had heard the widespread rumors of the savage, evil ways he took his anger out on people. With their own eyes, they had seen him order corpses to murder the living. In the beginning, old Granny Wen’s legs would shudder nonstop whenever she saw him, and Wen Yuan would hide behind her. It was many days before he dared to slowly approach him.

Although he saved the Wen remnants, they were still terrified of him XD. Guess Wei Wuxian really made a name for himself during the war. But Wei Wuxian didn't hold it against them. He was still kind and gentle towards them, and after some time, they started to warm up to him, to see him as their own, as their family.

But now, those same fifty pairs of eyes were watching him. Although there was still some fear in their gazes, it was the sort of fear attached to respect and reverence. Their eyes also carried a trace of cautiousness, and some intent to ingratiate themselves. However, it was by and large the same gratitude and goodwill that shone in the eyes of the Wen siblings. “Thank you for everything you’ve done, all this time,” Wen Qing said quietly.

They appreciate what Wei Wuxian had done for them and decided to host a feast for him TwT.

“You…are suddenly being nice to me. I’m kind of scared?” Wei Wuxian said.

Wen Qing’s knuckles seemed to briefly crack, and Wei Wuxian immediately shut up. However, she continued her quiet speech.

LOL 🤣🤣🤣. Wen Qing just wants to keep the somber atmosphere and Wei Wuxian can't help but tease her.

“…They’ve always wanted to have a meal with you, and to thank you. But you’re always busy running around or locking yourself up in the Demon-Quelling Cave for days and telling everyone you’re not to be disturbed. They were afraid they would distract you from your work or bother you. They thought you didn’t like to mingle with people and that you didn’t want to talk to them, so they didn’t want to pester you with any attempts at conversation. When A-Ning woke up today, Si-shu said we had to make you sit down for a feast, no matter what… So just sit down, even if you stuffed yourself to bursting earlier today. It’s fine even if you don’t eat. Just sit and chat, have a drink, and that’ll be enough.”

Wei Wuxian was struck silent. Then his eyes lit up. “Drink? There’s booze up here?”

The elder Wens had been watching them nervously, but as soon as they heard him say that, one immediately responded.

“Yeah, yeah. There’s drink.” He passed Wei Wuxian several tightly sealed jugs that had been sitting on the table. “It’s fruit wine. Made from wild fruits picked on the mountain. It’s got some real body to it!”

“Si-shu also loves to drink,” Wen Ning said from where he was crouching by the table. “He knows how to make wine and made those specially for tonight’s dinner. He tried for many days.”

Because he now spoke so slowly, one word at a time, he did not stutter. Si-shu gave an abashed smile but continued to nervously stare at Wei Wuxian.

“Is that so?” Wei Wuxian said. “Then I gotta give it a try!”

He sat down at the table, and Si-shu immediately opened a sealed jug and passed it to him with both hands. Wei Wuxian sniffed it and smiled.

“It does have a pretty nice body!”

The others sat down along with him. After hearing his praise, smiles split their faces as if they had been greatly commended, and they dug in with their chopsticks.

🥹🥹🥹. Such a heartwarming family dinner. I wonder if this is Wei Wuxian's first time having such a dinner. He certainly didn't enjoy the meal whenever a certain Madame was around.

For the very first time, Wei Wuxian paid no attention to the wine’s flavor.

He thought to himself, Follow the path into the darkness…huh?

It wasn’t all that dark.

Suddenly, he felt refreshed and alive.

This act of kindness by the Wens might not seem much to us. But it meant so much to Wei Wuxian. It showed him that even though the road to righteousness is dark, there's always a tiny beam of light shining through. It showed him that there's always hope in the darkest times. And that this time, he's not alone in it anymore. He's got his new family, and that is what's most important.

[btsficsandsuch]

Comfort Person

You overhear Yoongi talking about how clingy you are but he doesn’t know the reason why. When you distance yourself he starts to worry.

You stood outside Yoongi’s studio door preparing to let yourself in with the code he had given you a few months ago. You had a bag full of food for the two of you, something you did often. The two of you had been friends for several years but just recently started dating. Just as you were about to knock you heard voices going back and forth. You recognized Yoongi’s voice and you also heard Namjoon and Hoseok. You figured they were discussing work and you didn’t want to interrupt so you went to go sit in the lounge down the hall and give them some privacy. You were about to walk away when you heard your name. Of course curiosity got the best of you and you decided to listen in on the conversation.

“Man I am starving. You’re so lucky that Y/N brings you food all the time.”, Namjoon spoke. “Yeah seriously and she’s always checking in on you. I hope one day I have someone that cares about me like that.”, Hobi said. You smiled at their kind words. Yoongi spoke, “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” His words stung a little. You thought he appreciated it. “Uh oh trouble in paradise already?”, Namjoon asked. You could hear Yoongi sigh, “Not really. I just didn’t expect Y/N to be this clingy and needy once we became official. I mean I love being around her but she spends every night in my studio with me and she doesn’t even knock. She just lets herself in. I gave her the code for emergencies but I kind of regret it now. She comes to the dorm and is practically on top of me the whole time and then she just invites herself to spend the night. She steals all of my clothes. She constantly texts me all day. I just need some space but I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

Wow. All of this just hit you like a truck. You knew you were a little clingy with him and it did get worse once you started dating because you felt more comfortable but you didn’t think he hated it that much. Yoongi was your comfort person. Whenever your anxiety got bad or you just had a bad day you felt so much better being around him. You didn’t want him to feel so negatively towards you so you decided that you would stop the clinginess and give him some space. You left the bag of food sitting outside his door and went home.

Yoongi checked his phone and saw the time said 1:17am. Then he noticed there were no new texts or calls from you. It was odd. He knew you’d be asleep already so why hadn’t you texted him. He just assumed you must’ve fallen asleep and left it at that. He couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of hurt though as you’d never fallen asleep before saying goodnight before.

Over the next week you did your best to give Yoongi his space. You only texted him if he texted you first. You were currently on your way to his studio for the first time this week. He had texted you asking if you’d bring him his hoodie that he had left at your place. Standing in-front of his door you were about to let yourself in when you remembered what he said so you knocked instead. When he finally opened his door he was surprised to see you. “Y/N why did you knock? Did you forget the code?”, he said with a little laugh. You shook your head, “No I just didn’t want to interrupt if you were busy.” You handed him his hoodie and turned to walk away but he stopped you, “Aren’t you going to stay? I feel like I haven’t seen you all week.” “No I have some errands to run before the rain comes.”, you lied. Really you wanted nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and never let go but you were doing this for him. He stood watching you walk away. He knew something was off.

The following day you got a text from Jungkook inviting you to a movie night at the dorm. You thought about passing but ultimately decided that it might be good for you to get out of your apartment and be around your friends.

You knocked on the door of the dorm and Jin invited you in, “Yoongi is in his room.” You smiled knowing he assumed you’d want to go right to him but you were still giving him space. Instead you sat at the dining room table next to Jimin and waited for dinner to be ready. You didn’t realize how cold it was so you didn’t bring a jacket and you were freezing. Usually you’d go grab one of Yoongi’s hoodies but remembering what he said you asked Jin if you could have one of his instead. He happily handed you the fluffy pink hoodie and you quickly put it on.

Jin had let Yoongi know that the food was ready and to come eat. He was shocked when he walk into the room and saw you already sitting there smiling and having a conversation with Jimin. “When did you get here?”, he asked you before sitting down. “Umm maybe like 30 minutes ago.”, you said not wanting to make eye contact. Yoongi looked visibly hurt, “Why didn’t you come say hi and let me know you were here? And why are you wearing Jin’s hoodie? I have a closet full of them that you could’ve gone through.” You just shrugged, “I didn’t want to bother you.”

Yoongi ate his meal in silence. He wasn’t sure why you were all of a sudden being so distant. He thought back to all of the interactions you two had over the last month. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Once dinner was over and the kitchen cleaned up everyone made their way to the living room to watch a movie.

Yoongi took his usual spot on the couch leaving a space next to him. He had your favorite fluffy blanket in his lap and he was ready for some much needed cuddling. To his dismay instead of walking right over to him like you would usually do you stood at the door looking around the room like you were deciding where to sit. You remembered the comment he made about you always being on top of him at the dorms so you were looking for somewhere else to sit. “Noona aren’t you going to sit next to Hyung? There’s a seat open.”, Jungkook said smiling at you. Not wanting to make things even more awkward you nodded a thank you and took the seat next to Yoongi making sure to leave as much space as you could between the two of you. He offered you the blanket but you declined telling him you were a little warm. Yoongi new you were lying but chose to let it go.

After the movie you said your goodbyes and watched the boys run off to their rooms. You went to the kitchen to make sure all of the food was properly put away. Once that was done you made your way to the front door and started putting your shoes on. Yoongi appeared with a frown, “Y/N it’s really late and quite cold outside. Why dont you just spend the night here?” You wanted so badly to get in his bed and feel his warmth and comfort. You needed it now more than ever but you could still hear his words in your head. You shook your head, “No it’s okay. I’ve got some things to do early in the morning.”

Yoongi was starting to get worried. This wasn’t like you at all. “Y/N what’s going on? Are you cheating on me? Or do you just not love me any more? Whatever it is you can tell me.”, he said slightly raising his voice. Hearing him get loud sent you into complete panic mode. You didn’t know what he wanted from you at this point. You feel like no matter what you did you were wrong and next thing you knew you were sobbing into his chest.

He pulled you into his room to get some privacy. Sitting you on the bed he started wiping away the tears, “Y/N please talk to me. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s wrong.” You waited a few minutes to calm yourself down. “The other day I was going to bring you food but I heard you telling Namjoon and Hobi about how clingy and needy I am and you wanted space so I decided to give you that space.”, you said between sobs. “Oh Y/N I’m so sorry. I was having such a bad couple days and I felt so awful that I was being forced to ignore you. I was just saying dumb stuff. I didn’t mean any of it.”, he said while rubbing circles on your back.

You wiped some of the tears way, “No I’m sorry. I was clingy and needy. You’re my comfort person. I feel better when I’m with you. I don’t feel as anxious or sad so I tried to be around you as much as I could to make myself feel better. I was being selfish because I wasn’t thinking about what you wanted or how you felt. I’m glad I heard you. I just wish you would’ve talked to me instead.”

Yoongi lifted your chin so you could look at him, “No don’t be sorry Y/N. I’ll be your comfort person. I’ll be whatever you need. You can sit on my lap 24/7 if it makes you feel better. Honestly, after this last week I realized just how much I need you too.” You rested your head on his shoulder while he wrapped you in a hug and you instantly felt better. “Are you going to spend the night? I think we could both use a good night of cuddling.” You smiled and nodded your head. You watched Yoongi walk over to his closet and grab a tshirt and a hoodie. He walked back over and handed them to you, “Here, please put these on and throw Jin’s hoodie out in the hallway. I don’t even want it in here.” You giggled while taking the clothes and doing as he said (Minus the hoodie part since Jin was nice enough to lend it to you. You folded it and placed it neatly in front of his door instead but Yoongi didn’t have to know that).

You crawled in bed where Yoongi was waiting with open arms. You rested your head on his chest while he held you close. “I love you Y/N.”You felt love, you felt happiness, you felt warmth, you felt comfort. “I love you too.”

[vodika-vibes]

You'll Never Know, Dear, How Much I Love You

Summary: Six months after the Republic's fall and the Empire's rise, Bly shows up on your doorstep, battered and bruised but alive.

Pairing: Commander Bly x F!Reader

Word Count: 1772

Warnings: Mentions of Order 66, implications of possible torture

A/N: I was in a Bly mood, so this was born. But I also have a migraine forming, so I personally don't think it's very good.

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You should have left Coruscant after the rise of the Empire.

Sure, it’s not like you worked with the Jedi, and your career is safe, but Coruscant doesn’t feel safe anymore. 

You know your parents want you to move back to Corellia. They tell you that you can open a clinic for the pilots and the spacers in the city and that your life won’t really change all that much.

Never mind the fact that CorSec is the most corrupt police force in the galaxy. And without the Green Jedi, who were also slaughtered to the last child by the Empire, there’s no one there to keep CorSec under control.

You lean your head against the cool window of your apartment, hoping that the cool window will soothe the headache forming behind your eyes.

There’s a reason you’ve stayed on Coruscant.

You stayed for Bly.

Of course, you’ve not seen him in months. You haven’t heard from him since the day before the Jedi Purge, you don’t even know if he’s still alive. You hope so.

You bump your forehead lightly against the window, your gaze drifting away from the speeders racing past your apartment building and toward the billboard that’s currently lit up with Wanted posters for several Jedi and several bounty hunters.

Honestly, you’re not sure what to think about the Jedi.

The idea that the Jedi betrayed the Republic is so impossible that it’s almost laughable. But, at the same time, the Clones would have never turned their weapons on the Jedi if they didn’t have proof.

You release a heavy breath and bump your forehead against the glass again. The problem here is that you have two facts that you know are true that are conflicting with each other.

Fact 1, the Jedi would never betray the people of the Republic.

Fact 2, the Clones wouldn’t have killed the Jedi without good cause.

In conclusion, the Clones must have had cause to kill the Jedi.

Problem, the Jedi would never betray the people of the Republic.

A disgusted noise falls from your lips and you bump your head against the glass one more time before you pull away from the window and turn towards the kitchen.

In the grand scheme of things, you suppose it doesn’t matter. The Jedi are dead, knowing why they died won’t bring them back. And it won’t make things go back to the way they used to be.

“Maybe I should move back to Corellia,” You say to your empty apartment.

Your home is so much colder now that Bly isn’t around.

Coruscant is so much colder now that Bly isn’t around.

It’s funny, Bly called you his sunshine, but as soon as he left everything froze over. Did he just not know that he was your sunshine?

Well, maybe funny is the wrong word. Because if you think about it too hard, you break down sobbing and can’t function for several hours.

So you shove all of your worries, fears, and heartbreak to the back of your mind, and head into the kitchen to start thinking about dinner. Is it healthy to avoid the bad things by pretending they don’t exist? No. Not at all. But it’s better than being paralyzed with grief. Maybe.

You’re about to pull open your fridge when the doorbell rings.

For a moment, you think about ignoring it. After all, it’s not like you’re expecting a visitor, so it’s probably not important, right?

And then the bell rings again and your head falls back as you release a heavy sigh. “Just a moment!” You call to the person on the other side of the door.

It doesn’t take long for you to key in the door code to unlock the door, and for you to press the button to open the door.

“Can I help you?” You ask as you turn your attention away from the keypad to the man in the hallway.

Your breath catches in your throat as you realize who you’re seeing. Short-cropped hair, though it looks like he’s been unable to shave it recently based on the fact that you can see his curls, golden tattoos on his cheeks, and very familiar brown eyes.

“Bly?” You whisper, afraid that if you speak too loudly he’ll vanish. You reach out to touch his cheek, though you stop yourself before you can actually touch him.

What if he’s not real? What if he’s just a figment of your imagination?

You don’t think you’ll survive him vanishing on you again.

His hand wraps around yours, and he tugs your hand to his cheek.

He’s very solid, too solid for a figment of your imagination. “Bly, you’re soaked.” You move to the side to let him into your apartment, and as soon as he’s inside you shut and lock the door. “Let me get you some towels—”

You turn, to head towards your linen closet, only for Bly to wrap his hand firmly around your wrist. He tugs you so that you stumble against his chest, and his arms wrap tightly around you.

For a moment, you think he’s shivering from the cold, but as his fingers dig, almost painfully, into your skin you realize that he’s trembling. Fear grips your heart and then you’re moving, your arms twining around his neck to pull his head down so it’s resting against your shoulder.

“Oh, Bly—” You whisper, “I’m here, I’m here.”

His arms tighten around you, and you get the feeling that he’s trying to use you as a shield from something.

“Let me run you a bath,” You whisper to him, as you gently card your fingers through his hair, “And I’ll throw some of your clothes in the dryer and make you some food—”

“Don’t leave.” It’s the first thing that he’s said to you, and your heart breaks when you hear just how raspy his voice is. You doubt it’s from disuse.

“Never.” You promise, “I’m not going anywhere. Let me take care of you, please?”

You think he’s going to ignore you, at first, but then he slowly nods and releases his grip on you. “I missed you, sunshine.” You meet his gaze and you have to swallow your tears at the lost, almost broken, look on his face.

Instead, you favor him with the warmest smile you can muster, “I missed you too.” You press your hand against his cheek and then slide your hand down his arm to take his hand in yours.

Bly knows your apartment as well as you do, he doesn’t need you to lead him around, but you’ll do it anyway. You love him and he needs you.

You don’t release his hand until both of you are in the fresher and you have to let go of him so you’re able to draw a bath for him. You’re in the middle of deciding if you want to add something to the water, to make it smell nice and soothing for Bly when he releases a pained hiss.

Your head snaps to him so quickly that you’re surprised that you don’t hurt yourself. While you are fixing the bath, he is stripping off his clothes, and your heart drops to your stomach when you see him.

Angry-looking bruises cover the majority of his body. Bruises that look like they were applied in such a way to make any kind of movement hurt. You scramble to your feet and lightly touch his arm to turn him so you can get a better look at his bruises.

Hesitantly, you don’t want to hurt him, your fingers brush against a dark bruise on his upper stomach. Your touch is so gentle that he doesn’t recoil away from you, in fact, he actually seems to try to lean into your touch.

“I…I have a bacta additive for the water,” You stammer, unable to take your eyes off the bruises, but swallowing all of the questions you have. “Go ahead and get into the water, I’ll be right back.”

You don’t give him time to answer as you hurry out of the fresher and into the kitchen to where your first aid kit is located. You pull the kit from under the sink, set it on the counter to pop it open, and grab several items from inside it.

When you return to the fresher with all of the items you need, Bly is resting in the water, his head resting on the pillow that you bought for days when you just want to soak in the water.

You kneel next to the tub and drop a bacta tablet into the water, near his feet. It’ll take some time for the tablet to melt, but that’s okay. He looks like he’s about to fall asleep in the water anyway.

Lightly, you brush your fingers through his short curls, and his gaze flickers across your face, “Would you like some painkillers, Bly?” You ask.

“Don’t need ‘em.”

You sigh but nod, having expected that response, “It’ll take some time for the tablet to dissolve, so I have bacta gel if you want—”

His hand comes out of the water and cups your face, his thumb lightly rubs your cheek, and he just stares at you. “I didn’t think I was ever going to see you again,” Bly admits.

You rub your cheek against his hand, “Well, I’m glad you were wrong. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you forever.”

Bly looks confused for a moment, “You’d have been okay,” He finally says.

But you shake your head, “Silly man,” You raise to your knees so you’re able to cup his face with both of your hands, “You always say that I’m your sunshine, the center of your whole life,”

“You are,”

“Why do you think that you’re not just as important to me?” Your smile is soft as you lightly stroke his cheeks, “Do you have no idea how much I love you?”

Bly stares at you for a moment, almost in disbelief, and then he smiles and leans back against the pillow in the tub, “I must have forgotten, I’m sorry Sunshine.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You reply, “We have all the time in the world for me to remind you.” With that said, you lean in and kiss his cheek, only for him to turn his head to catch your lips with his.

You know that everything isn’t alright. You have so many questions, and Bly will tell you everything, even the parts that don’t make him look good. But right here, right now, everything is fine.

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@mira-loves-star-wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

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@etod

@bb8-99

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@continous-mistakes

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@cc--2224

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@heidnspeak

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@silly-starfish

[anonymousewrites]

Pearl of the Sea Chapter Twelve

Found Family! PoTC Cast x Teen! Reader

Platonic! Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Jack Sparrow, Tia Dalma x Reader

Chapter Eleven: Captured by Cannibals

Summary: (Y/N) and Will go in search of Jack, and they find him and his crew in quite the predicament.

            “Captain Jack Sparrow? Owes me four doubloons. Heard he was dead.”

            “Singapore, that’s what I heard. Drunk with a smile on his face. Sure as the tide, Jack Sparrow will turn up in Singapore.”

            “Jack Sparrow? I haven’t seen him in a month.”

            “When you find him, will you give him a message?” Slap!

            “Can’t say about Jack Sparrow, but there’s an island just south of the straits where I trade spice for, mmm, delicious long pork. Cannot say about Jack, but you’ll find a ship there. A ship with black sails.”

            It took a several boat trips and bribes, but Will and (Y/N) found Jack’s trail and tracked down the Black Pearl on a small island. The sailor who’d seen it gave them passage to the isle, and (Y/N) gazed at the grounded ship warily. Jack wouldn’t avoid the sea, let alone ground the Pearl, so something was going on.

            However, as a sailor rowed Will and (Y/N) towards the shore, he stopped abruptly, still quite a ways out.

            “What’s wrong? The beach is there,” said Will, frowning.

            The man replied in rapid French, and (Y/N) tilted their head. Their French was rusty—Elizabeth had to learn a second language, so (Y/N) listened in at times—but they got the gist of it. (Not to mention, one word, ‘dangereux,’ was clear)

            “I believe he said it’s too dangerous,” relayed (Y/N).

            Will frowned, but, since they pretty much expected Jack to bring trouble (pirates, you know), he stood and jumped into the water.

            “Merci,” said (Y/N) to the sailor, diving in after Will.

            They swam quickly to shore and straggled out onto the beach. The stranded hulk of the Black Pearl loomed over them.

            “Jack!” shouted Will. “Jack Sparrow! Cotton! Gibbs!”

            “I don’t think anybody is here,” said (Y/N).

            “They must have gone farther into the island,” said Will.

            “Then we must go, too,” said (Y/N).

            “I’ll lead,” said Will.

            They stepped into the forest of the isle, and the trees instantly closed in around them. A wild squawk caused them to jump, but it came from a parrot they knew quite well.

            “Ah. A familiar face,” said Will.

            “If it’s here, then Cotton must be, too,” said (Y/N). “The question is where and why they’ve all separated from the Pearl. Jack fought to get her back. He wouldn’t leave her easily.”

            “Don’t eat me!” squawked the bird.

            “We’re not going to eat you,” said Will.

            “Don’t eat me! Don’t eat me!”

            Will and (Y/N) walked forward, leaving the cawing parrot behind. They pushed through vines and leaves and clambered over roots, but they found no trace of the pirates they searched for. That was, until they found a flask hanging on a branch.

            Will picked it up. “Gibbs.”

            “It’s attached to a string,” said (Y/N), following it.

            The pair tracked it until they reached a frayed end—the end of the trail. They frowned.

            “Rah!” A man in black painted jumped out from a tree.

            (Y/N) and Will cried out in surprise and stepped away.

            Thwip!

            Two ropes tightened around their ankles and dragged (Y/N) and Will into the air. They yelped, and their swords clattered to the ground below. A whole group of men came out of the forest, painted in camouflage.

            “Oh, sh—”

            Two darts landed in (Y/N) and Will’s necks, and they were out in a second.

l

            (Y/N)’s eyes fluttered open, and they groaned as the bright sun shone down on them. Quickly, though, they forced themself to stay awake and assess their situation. They were hanging from a bamboo pole, tied to it by their ankles and hands. Will was in a similar situation beside them, and tribesmen were carrying them across a rope bridge to a village. When they finally stopped, (Y/N) looked around, and their eyes widened. A familiar face sat on a makeshift throne overseeing the village. It was Jack! He wore strange paintings of eyes across his face, but it was unmistakably him.

            “Jack?” said (Y/N) in confusion, still slightly woozy.

            “Jack Sparrow!” said Will. He chuckled dizzily. “I can honestly say I’m glad to see you.”

            Jack didn’t respond, but he rose and walked towards them. He poked Will, and (Y/N) frowned.

            “Jack, it’s us!” said Will. “Will Turner and (Y/N) Swann!”

            Jack faced one of the men carrying them and spoke in their native language. They responded before bowing their heads. Whatever was going on, they clearly had some sort of respect or deference towards Jack.

            “Tell them to let us down!” said Will.

            (Y/N) nodded furiously. “I would like that.”

            Jack gestured at the pair, still speaking in the native language. “Eensy-weensy.” He nodded to Will. “Eunuchy. Snip-snip.”

            (Y/N) groaned. They had a sneaking suspicion that wouldn’t help.

            “Teeny-ager,” said Jack, gesturing to (Y/N).

            The natives nodded and gazed at the pair, but, unfortunately, they were not cut down. Jack walked back past them, and his compass swung from his belt. Will jerked at the sight.

            “Jack, the compass! That’s all we need!” said Will.

            Jack paused.

            “It’s for Elizabeth,” said (Y/N), seizing on the bit of his attention. “She’s in danger. We were arrested for helping you.” And they all knew the consequences for that.

            Jack turned and faced (Y/N).

            “She faces the gallows. We face the gallows,” sad (Y/N), gazing at him intensely.

            Jack looked at them for a long moment before looking at the natives and speaking in their language once more, this time rapidly. “Savvy?”

            The tribesmen looked confused, and Jack sighed and shook his head. At that, the natives cheered and stamped their spears. Jack leaned down towards (Y/N) and Will.

            “Save me,” he whispered.

            The natives began walking once more, taking (Y/N) and Will with them.

            “Jack, what did you tell them?!” said Will in alarm.

            “What’s going on, Jack? Jack?” called (Y/N) as they were carried away.

            Jack’s heart tightened at the confusion in their voice. He had tried to get the tribe to release them, but just as with every other pirate on the Pearl, they had refused to. To tell the truth, even Jack was in danger.

            However, that didn’t mean he didn’t want to help them. To see someone’s freedom taken away was something Jack didn’t like, and he didn’t want it for that teenager in particular. He sat down on his throne and furrowed his brow. He really should be focusing on himself and escaping. Jack didn’t have time to worry about others.

l

            (Y/N) and Will found themselves in a round cage suspended over a large canyon. It was filled with familiar faces from the Pearl, and more pirates filled a second cage.

            “Why would he do this to us?” said Will. “If Jack is the chief—”

            “Aye, the Pelagostos made Jack their chief, but he only remains chief as long as he acts like a chief,” said Gibbs.

            “So he’s a captive like us,” said (Y/N). “But in another way.”

            “Worse, as it turns out,” said Gibbs grimly. “See, the Pelagostos believe Jack is a god in human form, and they intend to do him the honor of releasing him from his fleshy prison.”

            (Y/N) grimaced. “That can’t be good.”

            “They’ll roast him and eat him,” said Gibbs.

            “Where’s the rest of the crew?” said Will.

            “These cages we’re in weren’t built till after we got here,” said Gibbs, leaving out the finer details.

            The meaning was clear enough, and (Y/N) made a disgusted face. From above, the sounds of cheers and drums echoed into the canyon.

            “The feast is about to begin,” said Gibbs. “Jack’s life will end when the drums stop.”

            “We can’t just sit here, then,” said (Y/N), swallowing and focusing.

            “What do you suggest?” said Will, looking at them.

            Gibbs recognized the look in their eyes from when the Interceptor had gone up against the Black Pearl. They were preparing for a plan.

            “We swing for the wall and climb,” said (Y/N). “It’s not much, but it’s all we can do.”

            “Any plan is better than waiting to be eatin’,” said Gibbs.

            The group in their cage leaned back and then leaned forward. The cage swayed.

            “Again!” said Will.

            They repeated the movement, and the cage swung farther. Over and over, they forced momentum into the cage until it wildly swung towards the canyon wall. The other cage copied their movements, and, soon, they were all swinging close to the cliffs. Finally, they managed to grab onto tough, viny roots and hold themselves up.

            “Put your legs through! Climb!” ordered (Y/N).

            They all grunted from the effort, but with all of them climbing at once, they began to make progress.

            “Come on, men! It’ll take all of us to crew the Black Pearl!” said Will in encouragement.

            “Actually, you wouldn’t need everyone,” said a pirate from the other cage offhandedly. Everyone slowed as he spoke. “About six would do.”

            Everyone froze and looked at one another. That was the precise amount in each cage.

            “Oh, dear,” said the pirate.

            (Y/N) looked at Gibbs. He shrugged and nodded.

            “Hurry!” shouted (Y/N), pulling up the vine faster.

            “Come on!” encouraged Will.

            “Is that all you got?!” shouted Marty. He was too short to help climb, but his enthusiasm was helpful.

            “Wait, stop,” said Will, noticing a Pelagosto crossing a bridge.

            “Eh?” said Gibbs.

            “Ssh,” shushed Will.

            The other group paused, and everyone was frozen, fearful the Pelagosto would turn and spot their attempted escape. However, slowly, the other group began climbing.

            “What are they doing?” griped Gibbs.

            “Stop,” hissed Will. They’d be caught.

            The other pirates jeered quietly as they kept climbing. That was, until one reached for a vine and instead picked up a snake. It hissed, and the man shouted.

            “Snake!” he cried. He jerked away, and it disrupted the balance of the cage.

            The pirates scrambled for a hold on the vines, but they fell back uselessly. They screamed as they plummeted downwards. The vine holding them snapped, and they fell towards the canyon floor below. Their screams disappeared as they fell into a fog, and a crash of tree branches signaled the end of their lives.

            (Y/N) grimaced. What an unfortunate end. However… They looked up.

            Of course, the Pelagosto had heard the screams of terror and looked down. He could see them climbing out of the canyon.

            “Move!” shouted (Y/N).

            “Go, go, go!” said Will.

            The group clambered as fast as they could up the cliffs and vines. The Pelagosto ran back towards the village, undoubtedly to warn the tribe they were escaping. It was a race to survive, now.

            Luckily, before the tribe returned, they managed to reach the top of the cliff. Unluckily, they were still stuck in the cage, which was tied to the vine that had suspended them.

            “Cut it loose! Find a rock,” ordered Will.

            “Here!” said Marty, finding a sharp enough rock.

            Will grabbed it and hacked at the vine. It began to fray, snapping apart, but not before the whoops and shouts of the Pelagostos reached them.

            “Roll the cage!” shouted Will. Momentum would have to do the rest.

            “Come on, come on!” said Gibbs, pushing at the cage.

            “Let’s go!” (Y/N) threw themself forward, and the cage lurched.

            The vine snapped, and the cage rolled forward. The natives shouted angrily and pursued.

            “Bloody—” Gibbs’s words were cut off as they went over a vine and faced a long, steep hill.

             They teetered for just a moment before tipping forward. Then, they shouted in alarm as the cage rolled down the hill. It threw them around, and (Y/N) groaned as they hit the sides of the cage, people, and the ground. The bruises after this would be innumerable. They hit a small hill, but their momentum carried them over it. They soared through the air before hitting the ground and continuing to roll. The pirates screamed as they were thrown about.

            Bam!

            The cage hit a tree, rolled up it, and fell. Finally, it stopped. The pirates were left a heap on the ground, groaning and dizzy. Unfortunately, there was no time for collecting themselves. The natives were approaching.

            “Lift the cage!” said (Y/N). Then, they could run.

            “Come on, lads. Lift it like a lady’s skirt!” said Gibbs.

            (Y/N) rolled their eyes at the comparison, but if it worked, they weren’t going to complain. They all lifted the cage and stuck their legs through to run. Once again, poor Marty was just being carried along for the ride, cursing and shouting at them to go faster as the Pelagostos pursued.

            “Run, run!” urged Will.

            Gibbs shouted as he tripped. He fell, and the cage lurched to the side. (Y/N) tried to pull back, but they were swept off their feet. The cage rolled to the side, over a ledge, and plummeted into a crevasse. The group screamed as they fell between sharp rocks and ledges. For a moment, they were all forced to come to terms with dying by smashing into the ground.

            Splash!

            Instead, the cage fell into a river at the bottom of the tiny canyon. Finally, the cage rocks beneath the surface and broke apart. Vines snapped, bones shattered, and it cracked like an egg. Will pushed to the surface and gasped for air. Gibbs did the same, and all the pirates swam out from the remnants of the cage.

            (Y/N) let the water envelop them for a moment. Still underwater, all the fear they had felt while fleeing felt faraway. (Y/N) nearly lost concentration and stopped holding their breath. However, a strong hand reached down and pulled them up.

            They were dragged back to the surface by Will, who gazed at them. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?!” he said worriedly.

            “I’m fine,” said (Y/N), nodding to him. They weren’t lying. They hadn’t been afraid beneath the water, and they hadn’t been losing strength. They’d been perfectly fine.

            Thwip!

            Their thoughts were interrupted as an arrow pierced the water next to them. The pirates pressed against the edges of the canyon as Pelagostos fired arrows and threw spears from above. They swam forward, ducking beneath the surface as often as possible to confuse their attackers and prevent them from having too many targets.

            “Take cover!” shouted Will, finding a small cave to hide under.

            The others followed him, and (Y/N) pressed themself against the rock as the natives clamored above. Will’s hand reached over and pushed them behind him for an added layer of protection. They weren’t going to be hurt, not if he could help it.

            Suddenly, a boy appeared and spoke to the tribe. As soon as he finished, the Pelagostos rushed off the way they’d came in alarm.

            “Go,” said (Y/N), moving first.

            Will almost cursed and swam after them. (Y/N) swam farther until the river opened up into the bay. The beach was at their side, and the stranded Black Pearl awaited them. Instantly, every pirate found renewed energy at the sight of their salvation. They straggled out of the water and ran across the sand towards the ship.

            Strangely, Ragetti and Pintel, who (Y/N) recognized from when Barbossa had been captain, were present and already trying to get the ship into the sea. Now, they would question that and be upset that they were taking the Pearl for themselves, but (Y/N) and the other crew members needed an escape—a quick one at that—so who were they to complain that Pintel and Ragetti had readied it for them?

            “Excellent!” said Gibbs, voicing their opinion. “Our work’s half done!” The ship was in the water again.

            “We done it for you, knowing you’d be coming back!” said Pintel, completely lying.

            “Make ready to sail, boys!” shouted Gibbs.

            “What about Jack?” said (Y/N). They still needed the compass, and Jack didn’t deserve die. Sure, he was a trickster who double-crossed everyone, but he had his redeemable moments. Occasionally. Sometimes. Rarely.

            Whatever, (Y/N) didn’t want him to die.

            “We won’t leave without him,” said Will. They’d come this far to get the compass and save Elizabeth. They wouldn’t give up.

            “Oi!”

            Everyone whirled to see Jack rounding a corner on the beach. He was running full-tilt at them. Will’s eyes widened in relief.

            And then the entire tribe of the Pelagostos rounded the corner behind Jack. They all held spears and were shouting as they charged after Jack.

            “Time to go,” said Will, pushing (Y/N) towards the rope to climb onto the Pearl.

            “Cast off those lines!” said Gibbs.

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened as Jack ran with the natives on his heels. They started climbing onto the Pearl, but as the others climbed up around them, they hesitated.

            “Make ready to cast off!” said Gibbs.

            “Oi!” shouted Jack, still trying to catch up.

            “(Y/N), come on!” said Will, trying to pull them up.

            (Y/N) just stared at Jack. The Pelagostos were catching up. Their heart seized. No. No! If he died, then, one, he’d be dead, and (Y/N) didn’t want that. Two, Beckett would kill Elizabeth and Will, two more people (Y/N) cared about. The storm of emotions swirled in (Y/N), rising like a wave in their heart.

            As they watched Jack run, the waves sloshed around the Pearl. They rose and fell with increasing rapidity. They swelled and crashed into the beach. Jack pushed through the shallow waters towards the ship. The Pelagostos raised their spears.

            Splash!

            A wave crashed over them, knocking them off their feet. Jack swayed as he grabbed onto the rope ladder to climb onto the Black Pearl. Everyone’s eyes widened as the Pelagostos straggled to their feet, spears washing away from them. They scrambled to grab them, but it was too late. Jack and all the rest were escaping.

            “Yes!” (Y/N) whooped and grinned as the waters settled around the Pearl once more.

            Will reached down and grabbed them. He lifted them properly into the Pearl while Jack climbed up. Will hugged (Y/N) tightly, relieved they were alright, especially after they hesitated on the rope bridge instead of getting aboard.

            Jack let out a breath as he stood on the deck of the Pearl. The entire crew panted, wiping dirt and seawater from their faces.

            (Y/N) stood and stared at the water. Then, they grinned. They had escaped. They had survived. They had found Jack.

            They had every piece they needed to save Elizabeth.

Taglist:

@slytherinroyalty16

@aew-kun-age-regression

@grippleback-galaxy

@andsoigotabutterfly

@insomniacneedssleep

@painstakingly-juno

@kitkatlover015

@chronicallybubbly

@froggyisfriend

@elliottheidiot2007

@paastaboi

@urlocalsabito

@speckle-meow-meow

@dmitrytherat

@vanessa-boo

@ohimjustagirlidrathetnotbe

@snowy-violet

[min-gis]

SEND FOR ME . — jung wooyoung.

pairing. exboyfriend!wooyoung x fembodied!reader

word count. 1.7k

authors note. i am crossposting this fic ! i've already posted it once on another blog, so if it seems familiar - i'm not stealing anyone's work, simply just reposting this on here with another member :') (also worth mentioning: this is kind of old, and my writing style has drastically changed since i wrote this several months ago. just a heads up if anyone’s going ‘why is it so different compared to the rest of her works?’ !)

warnings. tiniest bit of angst i suppose?, SMUT ! MDNI . | no real plot, just pure filth. dom!woo

''the scars on your heart are still mine.''

FROM WHERE WOOYOUNG WAS STANDING, YOU WERE POSSIBLY THE PRETTIEST THING HE HAD EVER SEEN.

With your face shoved into the silky fabric of the sheets covering his bed and his hand gripping onto your hair, Wooyoung established that you were, in fact, the prettiest thing he had ever seen. 

No view could ever beat the one he was currently seeing, he was sure of it; your ass cheeks bouncing against his thighs each time he harshly thrusted into you and tears threatening to spill past the corner of your eyes as you gasped for air. Wooyoung almost let out a dry chuckle at the sight of you, but instead a groan ripped through his chest as he tightened the grip he had around your hair.

“Fuck,” You cried out, your voice coming out muffled thanks to the fabric almost suffocating you; not that you complained, you were the one who had practically begged your ex-boyfriend to fuck you into his sheets, after all.

And who was Wooyoung to decline your request, when you asked so nicely?

Well, if you consider almost spitting in his face and yelling at him for half an hour as asking nicely, then you most definitely did.

“Cat got your tongue, baby?” Wooyoung chuckled behind you, your lips parting as he kept pounding into you; his cock hitting your sweet spot each and every time. “Fuck you,” You breathed, not sure if the man behind you even heard the words trailing off your lips.

But Wooyoung did hear what you said, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth in disapproval as he grabbed onto the roots of your hair; using your hair to pull your upper body off the sheets and letting your back collide with his bare chest.

You let out a yelp in both surprise and pain as he forced your head back, the back of your head hitting his shoulder as he continued to pound into you. “That’s not very nice, now is it?” He hissed into your ear, not letting go off your hair. You tried to get the words you so desperately wanted to leave your throat out, you really did; to no avail. 

But the way he was still pounding into you, the tip of his cock slamming against your g-spot was making it practically impossible for you to utter as much as a single word. Instead, you let out a whine followed by your lips parting as you gasped for air. A smirk formed on Wooyoung’s lips as he realized you were too fucked out to even reply, wrapping his free arm around your waist to pull you even closer to him, making it easier for him to pound into you even harder.

“You’ve always been so ungrateful, haven’t you? Haven’t even thanked me yet,” He let out through gritted teeth, his fingers slipping out of your hair; his rough hand grabbing into your jaw instead. Forcing you to look up at him, he let out a groan at the sight; your eyes glossy and saliva almost dripping down the corner of your mouth as your eyes met.

“You gonna thank me?”

With your lips still parted, you shook your head no. A dry chuckle left Wooyoung’s throat, his grip on your jaw tightening. “No? Then we’re done here.”

Your eyes widened as his thrusts came to an abrupt stop, feeling his cock slowly slip out of you. Desperately shaking your head, you grabbed onto his forearms. “No,” You whined, a smirk forming on his lips as he watched a tear make its way down your cheek. “Please don’t stop, please Woo, want you so bad,” You cried, not caring about how desperate you sounded; not right now, not when you were so close.

Squeezing your cheeks together, he pouted as he looked at you, “Yeah?” He let out, gently shaking your head back and forth. You quickly nodded in response, not taking your eyes off him; watching as he mocked you. “Poor baby.” He whispered, letting go of your face.

Your lips remained open, waiting for his next move; feeling him almost slip out of you completely, leaving only the tip of his cock inside of you - the sudden feeling of feeling empty washing over you. 

Wooyoung, however, wasn’t done playing with you just yet. Letting the pad of his thumb swipe across your wet lips, watching the way your saliva coated his finger with his lips parted; fighting against the urge to let his cock slip into you again, growing desperate to feel your wet walls pulsate around him. 

You suddenly felt him place his thumb on the tip of your tongue, automatically causing you to stick your tongue out; letting him rest it on top of your tongue before slowly fucking it further down your throat. Keeping your eyes on him, you watched as he tucked his bottom lip in between his teeth; the sight and feeling of your wet muscle swirling around his thumb causing his cock to twitch inside of you.

His gaze once again met yours, his thumb still placed against the surface of your tongue. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?” His words caused you to immediately nod, the back of your head hitting his shoulder as you nodded. Wooyoung just grinned in response, seeing you so desperate, so pretty almost causing him to fill you up right there and then.

“Good girl.”

You didn’t even have time to think before he suddenly postponed his hips forwards, your eyes rolling back as he filled you up to the brim; a loud moan leaving the back of your throat as you let your head rest against his shoulder. Wooyoung was quick to go back to the previous ruthless pace he had set for himself, giving you no time to readjust to his size - your pussy clenching around him so perfectly causing a groan to leave his lips.

With his thumb still pressed against your tongue, his other hand sneaked its way down to your cunt; his fingers brushing against your throbbing clit causing yet another whine to emerge from the back of your throat.

“You know,” He grunted into your ear, “You still haven’t said thank you.”

“Thank you, thank you! Fuck, thank you Woo,” You panted, your words half muffled thanks to the thumb placed against your tongue as his fingers lingered just above your cunt, a chuckle of satisfaction trailing off Wooyoung's lips. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The pads of his fingers suddenly made contact with your clit, the feeling of his rough fingers rubbing against your cunt accompanied by his cock dragging against your slick walls causing whimpers to trail off your lips, a familiar knot beginning to form in your stomach. Pressing a kiss against your shoulder, he rubbed circles over your clit; the noises you were making causing him to fuck into you even harder. 

“You hate me so much, hm? So much that you let me fuck you?” He hissed into your ear, knowing you wouldn’t respond; you were too gone to even consider replying to him. “Yelling at me like you hate me, when you’d do anything for my cock,” He chuckled, his thumb slipping out of your mouth; letting you breathe, causing you to gasp for air.

“No one could ever fuck you like I do, you got that?” 

Too fucked out to reply, you repeatedly nodded your head; your eyes fluttering shut as his words caused your orgasm to approach you even faster. Wooyoung grabbed onto your jaw once more, causing your eyes to barely flutter open once more; his fingers still rubbing quick circles over your clit. “Answer me.” He breathed through gritted teeth, watching as you desperately tried to form a sentence. 

“Fuck, yes! No one will ever fuck me like you do,” You panted, your words coming out slurred. He just hummed in response, his hand leaving your face again; grabbing onto the side of your body - just to fuck into you even harder, something you thought wasn’t even possible.

But it was, and it didn’t take long for the knot in your stomach to unravel. “Woo, I’m gonna cum,” You whined, your whole body shaking as he kept pounding into you; his nails digging into your skin. “You’re gonna cum?” He let out behind you, his speech muffled as he pressed a rough kiss onto the surface of your shoulder; causing you to nod for the nth time that night. 

“Then cum, make a mess all over my cock for me.”

As soon as the words trailed off his lips, you felt the knot that had formed in your stomach snap. A broken cry emerged from the back of your throat as your whole body went stiff, an overwhelming orgasm washing over you. Wooyoung couldn’t help but grunt as he felt you clench around him, a mix of your arousal and cum slapping against his abdomen each time he slammed his cock into you.

You let out a gasp as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying your best to come down from your orgasm; too gone to even realize that he had slipped his cock out of you, his hands leaving your body.

You were on the verge of collapsing when Wooyoung grabbed onto your hair once again, causing you to gasp as your eyes fluttered open. Before you knew it, he had turned you around and pushed you onto your knees; a smirk plastered on his lips as you looked up at him. 

A chuckle left his lips as you looked up at him, your eyes filled with confusion and your lips parted as you desperately panted; still coming down from your orgasm.

“Oh, baby,” He cooed, his hand grabbing onto your cheeks as he gently stroked the skin using his thumb. “You don’t think we’re done, do you?” 

You gulped upon hearing his words, and Wooyoung swiped the pad of his thumb across your lower lip once again; a grin forming on his lips as he tilted his head. “Be a good girl and open your mouth for me, hm?”

Staring at the man standing on his knees above you, your eyes wide and lips parted; you realized you had a long night ahead of you - a small smile forming on your lips as you realized you had accomplished what you had hoped for.

You still knew your ex-boyfriend like the back of your hand, it seemed. 

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Okay I’ve been toying with an idea for a Six of Crows au post-Crooked Kingdom where Van Eck won for a little while now and yeah idk but I had a scene idea come to me just now so I’m gonna write it here to see what you guys think and if there’s any interest then I might add it to my list of fics to write

This feels like a weird introduction but, er, here we go:

Inej knew the moment Kaz got home. There were no longer any crowds in the house to come to attention at his entrance, or if there were then no-one had bothered to come down to the half-room and tell Inej, but she could hear his voice drifting through the vents as soon as the door upstairs banged shut behind him.

“Where’s Inej?”

“Where do you think?” Matthias’ reply came roughly, and Inej could all but picture the disapproving grimace that must be crossing his face about now.

Let him judge. She didn’t need to leave the half-room, and for as long as that was true she wouldn’t. The vents did not give her every room though, and she did miss gathering her secrets. She wondered if there was anyone else in the house, but the five of them. Five? She stopped and counted them on her fingers. Yes, five. Hopefully still five. Inej had not bothered to leave the half-room in days, and no-one had been down to see her since yesterday morning.

She heard the door click open behind her, of course, but she did not bother to look up as Dirtyhands entered the room.

“Wraith,”

“Don’t you read the papers, Kaz?” Inej asked, without turning, “The Wraith is dead,”

She stood up, hand wandering across the table for her little pot of jurda. It tasted like shit and it wasn’t nearly as strong as she wanted it to be, but it took less than a month for the price of the blossoms to surpass the height of the stars so she’d have to make do with whatever they had left.

“Inej-”

“They found her body on the steps outside the Church of Barter almost three months ago, remember?” she finally turned to face Kaz, unscrewing the lid on the little silver pot as she did so, “Killed by some mercenary called the White Blade, who still hasn’t been found by they way in case you haven’t seen the latest. I guess it’s difficult to catch a ghost,”

Difficult to catch a wraith.

“We’ve had this conversation several times, Inej-”

“And we’re going to have it again,”

Inej placed an orange jurda blossom on her tongue, then offered the open container to Kaz. It was almost empty. He waved her off.

“I thought you didn’t go in for that sort of thing,”

Inej shrugged.

“Gotta stay awake somehow, haven’t I? We’re busy,”

“We’re not on a job”

“We’re never on a job. Unless the reason you’ve bothered to grace me with your presence is a proposition?”

Kaz shook his head.

“I just wanted to tell you there’s no news,”

Inej looked away. There was never any news. And yet somehow she always expected differently.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Probably,”

Inej caught another jurda blossom between her fingers. She needed to stay awake, because if she slept she would see him. She would see all the ways she’d failed.

“It wasn’t your fault, Inej, we’re having the same conversations on repeat can’t you see-,”

“And we’ll have them again,” she shrugged, “We will have this conversation again, Kaz, because I made a mistake and you are coddling me like a child who won’t be able cope if you tell them something was their fault. Tell me it was my fault, Kaz! We both know that it’s true,”

Kaz shook his head.

“I’d rather repeat the previous,”

“Then let’s,” snapped Inej, because hell if this jurda wasn’t strong enough to keep her awake then maybe an argument would be, “Let’s repeat the goddamn conversation, Kaz, because you’re right. We have the same two conversations on repeat and do you want to know why? Because I am owning up to the mistake I made and I am trying to deal with the consequences of it, but you had no right to do what you did, do you understand me? You messed up and you need to take some damn responsibility, because if you think-”

“You always knew Tailoring Dunyasha’s body to look like yours was a possibility for your escape option,” said Kaz, calmly.

She hated how quiet his voice was, how slow and deliberate he sounded next to the and ramblings that she could not stop from stumbling out of her.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” she hissed, slamming her jurda back down on the table.

“I couldn’t have done anything to stop that,”

“You could have tried,”

“Inej-”

“Shevrati,”

Know-nothing.

She waved a hand vaguely at the door.

“Get out,”

Kaz turned to leave, then paused.

“I am sorry, Inej. They’d like to see you upstairs, you know. Nina misses you,”

“Nina can come down here then,”

“Inej… I can’t do anything for you but apologise,”

“Keep you apologies,” she snarled, and when the door had closed behind him added: “Choke on them,”

Kaz could apologise all he wanted. She would not forgive him. What right did he have to expect anything different from her than this? Did any of them? Kaz had not had to watch his parents cry, as they carried home the body of a child that wasn’t theirs. Kaz had not had to feel the ironclad grip of the person he thought he’d trusted most in the world as they held him back and told him to swallow his sobs and keep quiet. Kaz had not given up and gone limp in their arms, a mess of tears and useless prayers, as he saw his parents slip from his grasp once again and knew that he would not have the chance to tell them truth.

Kaz had also not failed the others, and did not have to feel the truth of that choking him every time he saw them. Kaz had not spent almost three months barely daring to venture out of the half room, just so he would never have to lock eyes with Jesper Fahey. There was a scream inside Inej that had been slowly building itself since the day of the auction, and if she did not find a way to release it soon it may very well eat her alive.

[calaisreno]

Three Women Perplex the British Government

1362 words / Prompt: Journey / A sequel to Sixth Sense. (Just in case you were wondering what Molly decided to do!)

---

He doesn’t recognise the woman standing before him. His mother trained him well, though, so he rises and gestures at the chair. 

“Please.” He glances at Anthea, who is giving him an inscrutable look from the doorway. The one that says he’s offended her in some way that she will neither admit nor explain. 

Anthea closes the door. Mycroft regards the woman, who is still standing. 

“Please,” he repeats, giving her a generic smile. 

His visitor is regarding him as well. Studying him. No smile. “I’d rather not.”

She’s a tiny woman, and he’s a tall man. If she would only sit down, he could sit as well, and it would not feel so much like he’s bullying her. That’s not his style, at least not with women. Small women, dressed in hand knit jumpers. 

He has no idea what she wants, but is afraid that some persuasion might be necessary. Not the bullying he reserves for his brother, or even the subtle manipulation he aims at John Watson, a difficult man to intimidate.

“Miss…?” He feels like he ought to know her. 

“Molly Hooper,” she says. “We haven’t met. I’m—”

“Yes, of course. Doctor Hooper. How can I help you?” He looks down at her, desperately wishing she’d take the chair. “I should thank you,” he remembers to say. “Your help was greatly appreciated. I hope my brother expressed that to you.”

“I’m here about John Watson.”

“Ah.” He narrows his eyes, anticipating the outburst of sentiment she will unleash. “I’m maintaining surveillance on him. You need not concern yourself about any retribution against him. He is safe.”

“It’s not that,” she replies, folding her arms across her chest and glaring. She’s about as intimidating as a kindergarten teacher, but she’s making him uneasy. 

He should have anticipated this. Sherlock assured him that she would play her part well, and Mycroft himself managed the business about the body. But even a goldfish might have a conscience, especially if other goldfish are asking questions.

“Are you receiving any scrutiny over your part in the plan? That can be handled.”

“No, it’s fine. What I mean is, John isn’t coping well with Sherlock’s death.”

“Ah. My brother asked you to assist him in keeping Doctor Watson in the dark, and you’re feeling guilty that you know things which he does not. I assure you that we considered all possible scenarios, and none of them involved taking Doctor Watson into our confidence.”

“Why not?”

“Doctor Watson is a soldier. He is used to death and equipped to handle grief.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” she says, glaring in earnest now. “It’s been months. Have you seen him?”

“My people are keeping a weather eye on him.”

“But you haven’t called on him?”

“He would not appreciate hearing from me, Doctor Hooper. I’m afraid my concern will not help him.”

She closes her eyes briefly, shaking her head. “You made a mistake. You and Sherlock.”

“There were not many options before us.”

“Was it you or Sherlock who decided not to tell him?”

“My brother has a great deal of sentiment for Doctor Watson. I’m afraid I had to dissuade him.”

Her voice raises. “Because he loves John?”

“Doctor Watson is not…” He considers how he should word it, decides that being forthright will end this conversation sooner. “My brother’s feelings are not returned. Cannot be returned. Sherlock is gay, and Doctor Watson is not.”

“How do you know?”

“He has stated this publicly several times. Sherlock knows as well. In order to undertake the task he set for himself, it was necessary to leave him behind. I have no doubt that the doctor will meet a lovely woman and be married before long.”

“I don’t care what label you put on him. He loved Sherlock, and it’s killing him that he’s dead. He has PTSD. When they met, he was suicidal. If anything happens to him—”

“Miss Hooper. If you are considering breaking your promise, I must warn you. This matter involves branches of our government whose existence is unknown to most people. I would hate to—”

“Don’t threaten me, Mr Holmes,” she says. “At this point, what is the harm in telling him? If there are still snipers trailing after him, you haven’t done a very good job, have you? And if there aren’t any snipers, there’s no reason not to tell him.”

He has erred. This woman is no goldfish. 

And Anthea keeps asking him about Watson, suggesting that it’s time he knew. 

And then there’s this other woman. Mary Morstan, she calls herself. A complication. She vexes him. 

“Very well,” he says. “I will handle it.”

---

“Well, I’m back,” John says. 

The headstone is silent, as it should be. John Watson does not look like a man who expects an answer from a block of marble. He squares his shoulders and stands at parade rest, hands clasped behind his back. 

“I’m back again,” he repeats. “I just wanted to tell you something.”

He looks uneasy, Mycroft thinks. A confession, then.

“When you died, I thought I’d never… find myself again. I wasn’t good, not for a long time. Maybe that would surprise you.” He smiles grimly. “Well, you’re beyond surprise now, so I may as well say what I didn’t say the first time I came here. No, I’m not going to ask again. I know there’s not going to be any miracle. You’re not… coming back.” 

He lowers his face into his hand. For a moment his shoulders shake. Mycroft waits.

Drawing a deep breath, he raises his head. “So, this is it. What I should have told you… when it might have made a difference. Maybe it wouldn’t have, but I wish I’d said, just in case… well. I love you. I always did.” Choking back a sob, he continues. “You didn’t do that, though. No sentiment. Caring’s not an advantage. Yeah. But I did. Love you.”

The sentiment is so thick, it’s almost nauseating. Mycroft desperately wants a cigarette. Reminding himself of what he’s here to do, he waits.

“Once, I asked you for a miracle. But there aren’t any miracles, at least not for us. And now…” John wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his jumper. “Now it’s time. I know I’ll never be over you, never forget what it was like… but I’m alive, and I think I have to do something to stay that way. Get on with it, try to have a life without you.” He clears his throat and sniffs. “I met somebody. She isn’t you, but I think you would have liked her, that she would’ve been the one who finally passed muster. I know she would’ve liked you. So, I’m giving it a go, asking her. To marry me, I mean.” 

He makes a sound that might be a laugh, or maybe a sob. “I have to try,” he says. “I wish… well, it’s no use. I love you, but you’re not here. And I just can’t be alone forever. So.” He straightens his back, nods at the black marble. “This is goodbye, Sherlock.” 

As he turns, Mycroft steps out. John’s eyes widen, then narrow with suspicion. 

“Doctor Watson,” he says. “There are several things you need to know.”

—-

When he opens the door of his office, Anthea is waiting for him.

“Well?”

“You were right.” He sighs and meets her eyes. “Good call.”

The look on her face softens into a barely-detectable smile. “I’ve taken care of the Morstan woman. Extradition is underway.”

“She was…?” 

“Yes. Different name, but she’d done several jobs for him. The Americans will be glad to have her back. She won’t be visiting us any time soon.”

He nods, suddenly weary, and sinks into his chair. Too much sentiment, too much emotion. It’s exhausting. “Now we only need to bring my brother home.”

“We’ve received word this morning that he’s on his way to to Serbia.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Intercept him. We’ll let Baynes and his team handle that. Sherlock needs to come home.”

Her smile broadens. “As you wish.”

The door closes behind her. 

“Good journey, brother,” he whispers. “No more surprises.”

---

Read / comment on AO3

[little-reader]

"The Son of A Monster." Ch. 9 - Season one ending.

Masterlist

Carl grimes x Male!Reader

Warnings; Graphic Gore, Death, blood, Slow-burn, Sexual tension, Gay awakening (For both), Cursing, Negan is the Readers dad, Enemies to lovers story. Fighting. Zombie Apocalypse.

I had woken to silence and still. My eyes felt burned out as I opened them. I was bruised. I refused to move, but instead looked around the room. Same bed as last time. I must have passed out. I felt fine though, well, okay enough to move my head. Toby was looking over something, a gun in his holster, and glasses hanging on his nose. It was late morning, a few birds chirping off in the distance and the sun shining in the front windows.

My throat was dry and I was dizzy. I looked over to the nightstand, where water sat again. I blink a few times, before reaching over slowly. I could see my hands shaking, sweaty, as I grabbed the glass. I felt the weight of the water as it slipped from my grasp.

I felt my shoulders jump when the glass landed on the floor and shattered into several pieces. My eyes closed tightly as I heard Toby mutter an “aw, shit” and move away from his chair. I could hear the wheels on the chair scratch against the wood as he pushed it in and moved around the room. 

I wanted to know if someone else came into the room. My eyes were being blinded by the lights in the room. They would strain too hard to see anything if I tried to open them.

I felt glass press to my arid lips and a hand pushing back my long hair, that I have yet to cut since it's been growing out these past few months. The voice was muffled. Like it was underwater. I grunted and shifted my head away, cracking my eyes open and trying to focus on the person in front of me. My ears started to clear out and I could see the faint outline of the person in front of me. 

Eric something. That curly man's husband. Aaron. I know Iris loved to have meetings with the two. She said they were both great to talk to, helping and kind. Iris. I forgot about Iris, I haven’t seen her since I left. How long was I out? 

I muttered nonsense and looked around slightly, checking for more people. Only him and Toby. Toby was cleaning the glass and water off of the floor. “Kid is out of it,” Toby said, looking down at me. “Can’t hold anything, probably can’t move much right now.” He dumped the glass in the trashcan. 

“He needs water,” Eric said, placing the cup back on the side table. He sighed and started to work on the bandage. “He should be fine, his infection has left in the past few days.” He stated. “It makes it even better he doesn’t smell like puss, and that he’s finally conusious.”

Toby nodded. “Barely.” 

I let my eyes close again as they continued in silence. Then, there was a sudden sting that honestly brought me to life. I grabbed the man's arm and yelled, more out of shock, as he cleaned up the wound. I tried to move away, but surprisingly, he was able to keep me in place. I grimaced, “Stop. That… fucking hurts.” 

“And he’s talking, even better.” A known voice, one that I haven’t heard until now. Iris came behind the curtain, holding her stomach. I sensed sarcasm in her voice when her tired eyes gazed at me. The bandage was changed in a second before Eric moved back. 

I kept eye contact from where I lay. Eric patted her shoulder before he left the office, toby leaving, giving us space. I already knew what was coming, something I wasn’t in the mood for, but it was better for me to if it happened now.

“You… okay?” I said, slowly debating my words. She took that as an invitation and came closer. 

She pushed back my hair and sat on the edge of the bed. I closed my eyes and relaxed slightly.  “You need a haircut.” She whispered, one hand playing with my hair and the other tracing my jaw. I felt her nails scratch slightly on my skiing. “And a shave.” I shook my head and held her hand. 

“Like it long,” I said, rubbing her hand with my thumb. “You shouldn’t be back here,” I stated, my eyes searching hers. She shook her head. “He’ll come back. Harder than ever.” I stated. She only nodded and kissed my cheek. 

“You’ve been out for two weeks.” She stated, resting her head on mine. I sighed. A whole week, plus the days I missed before I passed out. “Ricks got a plan. A good one. But this will cause death, and a blown-out war.” She said, grabbing my chin and pointing at her. “Soon, nowhere will be safe. You need to recover, now. If you don’t, you’ll die.” It was bland, the way she said it. Ominous. Her tone scared me slightly as I held her wrist in my hand. I could feel the pulse under her thin skin.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and she hummed. “I… don’t want that relationship with you, Iris. I can’t. I really can’t.”

“Shut up.” She said, kissing my forehead, She then dug through her pocket, and grabbed one of my hands, before placing something in it. I peered down and smiled. “I saw it on one of our dead ones. I didn’t tell anyone who it was.” She said, handing me the knife and I smiled. I traced my fingers over the carvings and held the switchblade to my chest. 

“Thank you.” 

-

I sat in that bed for four days since I awoke when I decided I was truly ready to leave it. I had gotten changed and then left for the Grimes. No one was home, but I later found out what their plan was. It involved me. Rick and the groups have been working hard. They have a whole huge plan, though Iris said she was not allowed to speak any further in the matter, and I should get rest while I can. I wasn’t quite sure if I had a choice in the whole matter, but I guessed I would be forced into it.

-

“He’s probably dead by now,” Simion said, staring at Negan from his stance at the door. Negan sat there thinking, “formulating” a plan. At least, that's what he was trying to do. His mind had been all over the place. “Kid’s got a mouth on him. Plus… I know you don’t want to hear it, but that shootout and the wound he had the last we saw him. He wasn’t doing so hot.” He stated, pushing himself off the wall and making his way over to Negan. “They must have killed him.”

Negan slammed his fist onto the table. “Shut the hell up, Simon. You don’t get to tell me whether my kid is dead or not.” He said, rubbing his eyebrows. He didn’t say anything else. 

-

I was reading through one of Carl's Marvel comics. I wasn’t allowed out of the room until tomorrow, meaning, the plan was more likely in the next two days. I still wasn’t sure what they were planning to do, but it had to be a strong plan to take down multiple armed stations. I know a few that are harder than the others. Station three, the one I ran, was the easiest. This one had a baby, but it was away from most mobs or civilization and safely guarded but not as armed. 

Though, knowing the crowd, they would keep the baby alive and well. 

The door creaked open. I kept my eyes on the comic in front of me, as the steps paused. 

“Your… awake?” Carl asked, wide-eyed and confused. I nodded and hummed. “That's… you should be sleeping.” He stated, placing something down in the room before snatching away the comic and placing it down neatly in his stack. 

“I was reading that,” I said, leaning up by my elbows. My eyebrows furrowed as he cleaned up his desk, ignoring me. “Hey…” I softened my tone slightly, throwing my feet over the bed and fully sitting up. He was shuffling his desk around, I didn’t quite understand why he was doing it now. I watched, silently, as he finished up and sat down, with a box in hand. 

“You left these here.” He threw the box to me, I caught it and examined it. My cigarettes are barely used, only two missing. “I meant to give them to you when you first woke up, but…”

I paused and peered up at the boy. “... yeah…” I placed them down softly on my pillow. “Thank you.” It was a simple gesture from him, but I was thankful. I watched his eyes droop, though I couldn’t tell what he was feeling. No, that's a lie. The way his eyebrows were furrowed, the twitch of his nose, and the crinkle of his cheeks. “You're upset?” I asked, tilting my head slightly.

“Stupid plan my dad has.” He stated. It only made me more curious. “He wanted me to talk to you about it.” I sat up straight on the bed, feeling a slight jolt in my abdomen. “You okay?” He asked, turning towards me slightly. I only nodded and grunted for him to continue. He messed with his hands nervously.

I patted the bed. “I can wait,” I stated, scooting closer to the wall, leaving room for him. He looked at me like I was stupid, thought I was grinning at him stupidly, and got up to cross over the room and join me. 

We end up on the bed together, my arm wrapped around his shoulder and his head barely resting near my chest. Anxiety. He was anxious, I could tell by the small twitch and fidget of his connected fingers. His breathing was slow but I could feel his heartbeat fasten slightly. 

I reached over and untangled his fingers before wrapping them with my own. I feel his sigh and shift. He lifted my hand and moved beside me, keeping our hands interlocked. I stared at his side profile for a bit, allowing him to take a moment where he could be calm. Plus, I just like looking at his freckles.

“It can't be that bad.” I slightly whispered after a while. He shook his head and huffed before looking at me.

“Dad has been collecting fuel and cars since Negan left. He built metal walls on them so he could line them up. We had some before this, we had to move walkers away from an area before they got out and destroyed Alexandria. The metal plates are strong enough to reject bullets. He plans on taking those cars to your dad, telling him to give up. If he doesn't, he sends a signal to Daryl, and Daryl starts leading a whole army of walkers to your dad's sanction.” Carl explained in detail, trying not to leave anything out. I nodded through the whole thing. Damn Nut, Rick is. He’s smart but ruthless and risky. 

I paused, he still didn't tell me what I had to do. “My part?”

“The fucking bait.”

I hummed, moving away from him slightly. The bait, Rick was smart. Though, unfortunately, that wouldn’t work. He was too stubborn for that. He’ll try to destroy everything before Rick can get to him, even if he fails. Or maybe it will make him back down. He’s protected me for years, but maybe it’s time for me to leave the nest, and fly. Fall first, then pick myself up, slowly. I’m already in that stage. Getting left behind. I didn’t realize that. I was left-

A hand slowly brought me back from my own thoughts. Carl looked at me sadly, his hand barely laid on my shoulder. 

“You won't be there?” It came out like a whisper. He let out and small breath and shook his head. I felt myself do the same. “It won't work.”

“Think we all know that,” Carl said, in a very light tone. I patted his hand lightly and left it there. “I could sneak in-” “No.” I interrupted him. “But-”

“If your dad said no, then it's dangerous. I'm more experienced than you. I'll be fine, Carl.” I stated, turning to look at him. I think he realized I was serious because he glared at me.

“You could get hurt.”

“So could you.” We both, we're getting pissed. Though, I wasn't letting down. I wasn't going to let him walk into a battlefield with no shield. That would give an opportunity for Negan to have a hostage, Rick to get distracted… or Carl on the ground bleeding out. “I can handle myself, I've been through this a thousand times. Carl… I'd rather me get hurt than you.” My voice turned into a whisper, my face rested and eyes softened. His eyes didn't soften a bit as they stared into mine. His eyebrows twitched from the strain and he swallowed slightly.

“I don't want….” He picked his lips. “I don't want you to die.” It was simple. I smile a bit and let out a chuckle. “It's stupid-” he paused and glared harder at my slight laugh. “-and you're stupid.” He shoved my shoulder and tried to move away from me. I laughed a little harder and pulled him over, my arms wrapped around his shoulders. He crossed his arms as I connected his back to my chest. “We don’t have to fight. We can fix it, agree, and be in peace. My dad doesn't have to kill yours, no one has to die.” He ranted on. It was purely background noise for me. I've heard this from others. Peace. They weren't wrong, but they were Human. Brutal, Foolish, and disgusting creatures who ruin each other without truly realizing it. Human instinct. I won't tell him that because I know he knows that. 

I remember what my mother used to talk about. Humans were disappointing, and destroying the beauty and life of the world, taking everything from the soil and drying it up. 

I watch as Carl breathes, frustrated. I rest my head on his shoulder, slowly. Relationships are weird too. Not a bad weird. It's confusing, the beginning of a relationship, I ask myself what I can do and what can't. I test the waters.

Carl sighs and leans closer to my body. “You sure you're gonna be okay?”

I thought for a moment. I've been through war and fights with other groups we've encountered. All messy, leaving dead and injured. People were a resource, but medical supplies were rare. 

I dug through my pocket, taking Carl's hand and placing the switchblade in it. “Promise,” I said, wrapping my arms around him.  Carl ran his fingers over the cover and metal. 

“H? You pick this off of someone.” He asked, looking at the engraving. I stared at the knife. Flashes of the fire, hue.

“Something like that… it's important to me.” 

-

Rick came to see me in the morning. He was calm, asking if Carl explained. I agreed to do whatever, however dangerous. It wasn't for him though, Carl and Iris, and the twins. Those were my main focus.

“You know this won't work, right?” I asked him before he left. Rick paused and turned slightly on his face. He opened his mouth and closed it. “Maybe… you'll kill him…” I could see a slight grimace in his face when I said that, though I continued. “But not today, not tomorrow. He'll kill your people like there's no tomorrow, destroy you, and finally, leave you with dead family before you kill him.” 

I lifted myself from the living room couch, my bag sat beside me, extra clothes, food, medical kit, two cans of food, gun and ammo, and a knife. Rick said just in case something went wrong, everyone would need one. Cigarettes in another pocket with a lighter.

Rick nodded, he didn't know how to reply to that, considering Negan was my dad. What was he supposed to say? “I'll kill your dad”?…sounded bad. 

The next second, I was told we were leaving soon. I was heading upstairs.

“We’re leaving soon, about 20 minutes,” I said to Carl, who was on my bed looking at the knife, his hat laid beside him. He didn't give a straight reply, only a short “hm” and he dragged the knife tip over the bedside table. I stared for a second, before dropping my bookbag gently and kneeling. “I'll be fine,” I whispered, tucking his hair out of his face. His face was stone cold, with little emotion but pissed. 

“Don’t leave.” He whispered. I gave a slight sigh and shook my head. “You came into my life and became a best friend and… what if you don’t come back?”  My face saddened with a frown as I lifted myself halfway. My hand reached through his hair as I gave him a light kiss. He hummed, pushing back slightly. I hummed and pulled back, staring into his eyes. I wasn’t sure if it was love, or the thought of me not coming back that made me push for more. His lips were soft, dry, but soft. I had my hand under his bandage that wrapped around his head as I pushed up, both of us laying on the bed. I went easy, remembering he wasn’t as experienced as I was. He was also younger. 

I moved my head to the side, allowing me to get more room. We barely separated with each kiss, spit smearing over our chins and going to his cheek. One arm under him, the other holding his hip. His shirt slid up slightly, allowing the little touch of his skin to press on my thumb. I cherished this, keeping it close, keeping him closer. His hands, one in my hair, the other wrapped around my neck, moving slightly, he wasn’t sure where to place them or what to even do. 

I allowed myself to pull back. His eyes, were full of lust, eyes I’ve seen before. I probably had the same. I felt my tongue run on the bottom of my lip. The spit trail from my lips to his fell and broke apart. I reach up and grab his hand, wrapping my fingers into his, and connecting them. I pressed my forehead against his. “I gotta go, Woody.”

I loved him. My heart beat into his, making a tune and forming a song altogether. Funny, how it all began. The King and Monster fight, while the prince falls for… well, the son of a monster.

--

Season one ending. Season 2 chapter 1 - Woody

[igsuhrheos]

Bathtub Fun | Wanda Maximoff

This is my first story so please be kind.

Wanda’s a bottom and Y/N is a people pleaser. What more could you want?

Words-3.7k

Warnings: mention of alcohol, fingering, a bit of degradation, praise, neck squeezing, y/n is AFAB but it’s pretty gender neutral.

Translation: Милый-(sweetheart),

Детка-(baby)

——————————————————————

Tonight was again,a big party Stark put together but tonight he had a reason, a reason he used most of the time but most of the time, it worked. It was because there had been a whole month full of missions and training without any fatal accidents or anything that cost him a lot of money. So all the money he would’ve spent on the injured people he used it to host a party, and more importantly a party with alcohol.

But now it’s the middle of the party and some how it got even louder than before,with you and Wanda all danced out and a bit tipsy you take a break only now you’re realizing that Wanda is nowhere to be found. She said to you awhile ago that she was going to get something to drink and you thought that she was just sitting down some where.

Looking around you can’t find her anywhere, so when you walk up to Natasha and Tony with a confused expression and no Wanda on your arm before you can even speak.

“No, Y/N ,we haven’t seen your girlfriend” Natasha says with a smirk.

“She’s not my girlfriend”

“But you want her to be, we see the way you guys look at each other” said Tony with the same smirk as Natasha.

With a pink face you say “Why am I even friends with you guys?”

Natasha replies with a “because you love us” and Tony follows up with a “but not as much as she loves her little witch”

With a quick “i hate you” you start to walk away but make a u-turn and go to the bar to grab a bottle of wine and some glasses.

When you pass by them again you get a “go get her, tiger” from Nat and a complaint from Tony about stealing his alcohol.

If Wanda walked away from the party without telling you is because, she’s probably stressed. So with the wine bottle in hand you go and try to find her. You look on the balcony, in the kitchen, in her room, etc. So the final place you look is your room seeing how you and Wanda sleep in the same room sometimes, and that’s where you find her but not in your bed watching sitcoms like normal.

No,she’s in your bathroom,in the tub with the door wide open but it’s not the first time you’ve seen Wanda naked it’s been several actually but never like this anyway, just laying there with warm water over her body just so relaxed to the point where it looks like she’s almost asleep.

So as quietly as you can so you don’t scare her you walk into the bathroom and make yourself known “You left me alone down there y’know” and despite you trying not to scare her you know you failed when she shoots up and lets out a little yelp.

“Don’t do that you sacred me” she says, as she lays back down after knowing it’s just you and not some random party goer, but before she can reprehend you some more she gets a good look at you but of course she’s seen you tonight many many times, more than she would like to let on.

Even though it just barely an hour ago she thought back to how you held her close on the dance floor, how your hand was always reaching for her or touching her, how her painted red lips were on your neck and how they left a residue mark of lipstick on your collar.

When she looked down she saw the wine bottle and glasses in your hand and with an airy giggle she asked “Don’t you think we already had enough to drink tonight” as she pointed at the bottle. “Oh you think this is for you, no way, you left me. Out there. All alone.”

She simply just rolled her eyes and shook her head at you “I didn’t leave you alone” she said “Nat was right by you, a little too close” she spoke the last part under her breath but you heard it. “You sound a little jealous don’t you think, Witchy.” Y/N said with a smirk. Now, with her face a more flushed than before, but not because of the heat in the bathroom, it’s because of your teasing tone.

She lets a fake hurt gasp “I am not jealous” and this time she gets even more red by your saying “If you were jealous” before you even get to finish your thought, she interrupts “But I’m not” with her voice going up a bit when she finishes her sentence, a telltale sign she’s lying, you continue from where you left off “If you were jealous, you have no reason to be.” She then titles her head to the side with the perfect look of innocence as if she has no idea where this is going “I’m all yours, pretty girl.” She softly gasps as if she’s never heard such words before, but it wasn’t, time and time again from the moment you first met Wanda from being friends to where you two are right now.

You always put Wanda first no matter what and you always reassured her in anyway she would ask for it. Once she got over her shocked state,she realized you had now sat down outside the tub and opened the bottle. She then grabbed the wine glass you offered her, and of course you poured her glass first. She accepted it with a smile,that she only ever gave to you, “My sweet girl,” she thought.

Once your glass was a little ways filled, you were already tipsy from the drinks you had at the party and just from looking at Wanda and the way she was looking at you, she asked with a smirk, eyes shining with mischief, “So you’re all mine?”

As fast as her brother you answered “Of course I am” with a loving smile, “Would you do anything for me? Anything I asked?” She pondered.

With a questionable look you gave her the sarcastic answer of “What you want me to scream it from the rooftops?” Even though it was said as a joking you and Wanda both knew you would do it, if she had asked you or not.

She laughed at your sarcastic statement and taking a sip of her wine, so she could say her next sentence without chickening out “Would you like to get in with me?” she said sitting up and scooting forward so there’s space for you behind her.

Honestly, you were a little bit caught off guard, thinking that she was gonna ask you to go get her some clothes so she could get out and go to bed. But of course you liked this idea a bit better, you were also a little nervous.

Obviously you and Wanda have had sex before, anyone that looked your guys way either knew or thought that it’s just a matter of time before you “jump each others bones” as Tony put it. You’ve had sex in the bed, a quickie in a broom closet or in the kitchen when you could, even in the shower after not seeing each other for awhile because of missions or even just because you had both gotten out of training, and with all the panting and the sweating done in the gym, it just migrated into the shower along with more panting and hushed moaning.

But this, this felt vulnerable, having to just sit there, it was never easy to sit next to Wanda without having the urge to do something, let alone a naked, tipsy, wet Wanda.

Of course, as always you did it, for Wanda. You asked Wanda to hold your glass for you, then you started to get undressed,starting with your belt that held up your pants, then your white buttoned up shirt. If Wanda was being honest with her self she was a little sad to see the shirt go because of the way it fit your body, to it hugging your biceps and your shoulders, and the lipstick mark that she left.

Then the shirt was completely off and of course she seen you without clothes on but “fuck”, without the shirt she could she everything, the defined muscles of your arms, your tight abdomen that you worked on for hours in the gym.

Then came the pants, she already knew that your legs were pretty defined, of course she would, no, she could spend hours grinding and grinding down onto your thighs. It made it even better when you helped her move her hips.

Then, the boxers, she absolutely loved you in boxers the way they hugged your waist and ass, she honestly couldn’t get enough of you, with or without your clothes.

After you were fully undressed you finally stepped into the tub and laid back. Right away Wanda laid down on your chest with her back to your front and your arms on the side of the tub once you grabbed your glass back from her.

“This is nice” she said in a voice full of contempt.

“This is the only thing you wanted me to do for you?”

She turned her head side ways and looked back at you “Did you want more, Детка?” She asked in a sultry voice, her accent coming out a bit since she’s more relaxed than before.

With a red face and a kiss to her shoulder you answered “N-no I was just checking to see if I could do anything else for you.”

“My sweet girl, wanting to do so much for me, but there is one more thing you could do for me.” She said in a voice that made a shiver go down your spine.

“W-whatever you want, Wands.”

Now with you exactly how Wanda wants you to be, sweet, willing to do anything she desires. It’s no secret that you are the one who is in control in the bedroom, you would most likely go back to having control in the next few minutes, but Wanda couldn’t care less. She liked when you had your way with her, most of the time it was hot and heavy but gentle with praise and on the off chance, degradation.

Wanda was a fan of both, it was you who didn’t really like to degrade her, as you told her time and time again when she asked why you didn’t want to and it was always the same “You’re to precious to say mean things to” or “Your pussy always gets so wet when I praise you, so why would I change that?”

But this time it was an off chance, with the drinks and everything happening around you, you think you could do it just a little bit.

Whilst you were, once again, wondering what she wanted you to do for her. She said “How ‘bout you be a, good girl, and touch me?”

Again, with lightening speed you got to work to make Wanda happy. You took yours and her empty wine glasses and put them on the floor outside of the tub.

Now with your hands free, you wrapped your arms around her stomach and caressed her sides, digging your fingertips into her just enough to get a soft sigh from her. She moved her hands into the back of your head into your hair and pulled you forward so that she could crash her lips into yours.

With her lips moving sloppily against yours you decided it would be a good time to let your hands trail all over her body, from her breasts, to where you twisted and pulled her hard nipples, to her thighs where you squeezed and pulled them apart so that they were opened enough to your liking.

Now with her legs spread you disconnected your lips from hers and let them trail down her jaw, to neck then to her ear, where you asked “Are you needy, my love?” She then proceeded to let out a low moan along with a whiny “yes.”

With that response you brought your hands away from her thighs, and the place she wanted you the most, one of them going to wrap around her neck with a gentle squeeze and the other hand back to right where her hip and legs meet.

With a huff she said “If you don’t get to work soon I’m doing it myself, and you can just sit there and watch.” She was expecting you to do as you were told, but she definitely didn’t expect you to laugh at her, you actually laughed at her and before she could even process getting mad and telling you off, you said, “Stop being a brat unless you want me to fuck it out of your system.” With a playful degrading voice and another squeeze to her neck.

After that she went silent with a red face, which you followed up with a nip to her ear and a “That’s my good girl.” Now with a very needy Wanda who was practically shaking with arousal. Now you just needed one more thing from her before you actually touched her.

With you moving the hand that was on her hip back up to her breast,“I know you like thinking you can boss me around. But be honest with yourself baby, you like it so much more when I’m in charge, don’t you?” You say while sliding your fingers over her wet pussy, and even though she’s wet from the water, you can feel the sticky slick that you could spend hours devouring.

With a buck of her hips towards your hand that you moved before she could get what she wanted. With a hoarse voice she pleaded “P-please, Детка?”

With your hand tilting her head back so it could rest on your shoulder and a kiss to her cheek, you wanted to tease her a little bit more so you asked,”Please what, pretty girl? I know you can ask better than that pathetic attempt. Go on beg for me,my slutty girl.”

A sob made its way through Wanda’s lips and then came her begs for pleasure, “Please t-touch me Милый. I-I’ll be a good girl. Just please fuck me.”

Wanting to push her a little more you asked, “Are you mine?”

“Yes! All yours”

“You promise?”

“I promise! Just touch me, please.”

Your fingers then started to move slowly over her pussy making her squirm and whine. But when you moved your fingers to her clit and teased “Does that feel good, my love? You like when I touch your pussy like this?”

With lust and arousal surrounding her, just nodding and moaning loudly in your ear as a sign of yes and for you to keep going. But of course you were in control, you weren’t just gonna let her get away with her not verbally answering you. So you pulled away your fingers from her pussy and getting a whiny, “Why did you stop” along with a pout.

“When I ask you a question I expect an answer, understand ” you said with a hand still on her throat and a light slap against her inner thigh.

“Y-yes”

“Yes, what?”

With a flushed face she replied “yes, I understand” in a meek voice.

“Very good, see that wasn’t so hard was it.” Whilst saying this your hand slipped back to its position on her pussy, and started to tease her opening.

By now you could tell Wanda was close to her orgasm and so to help her get there you pushed a single digit in her, finally getting what she wants you’re rewarded with a moan, a smile, and a pleasure filled “thank you.”

Whilst pumping your single digit in her you asked,”Is this what you wanted, my Wanda? Me to finger your pretty needy pussy?”

With a hip buck, a loud moan and something along the lines of “more” and “faster” you decided that she had enough teasing for tonight or at least for now. So now replacing one finger with two, you started to pump your fingers faster, just as she had requested.

After a couple of seconds you heard the lust induced “I-I’m close, Детка.” With a sultry laugh from your end, you curled your fingers and with a feigned sad voice “All ready? But I just got started, can’t you hold on a little while longer.”

She nodded her head but you both knew she wouldn’t last longer than you actually wanted her to. So with a “y’know, maybe if you begged me, I might let you cum right now.”

Without having to ask anymore she let out a breathless sentence of,”Please, please, please, can I cum? I’ve been so good for you.” As you acted like you were thinking about it, she turned her head and started to kiss your neck feverishly, in hopes it would help persuade your mind in letting her cum.

With you bringing her head back up so you could whisper into her ear “Since you asked so nicely, cum for me, my beautiful slutty girl, cum on my fingers.” and with your permission that’s what she did. She grabbed your face and brought your lips together while she squirmed, and moaned.

Once she let go of your face and you stared to pepper kisses to her cheeks, neck, shoulders really anywhere you could reach. You gave her time to come down from her high with praises of “You did so good for me.” and “So pretty when you cum like that.”

With her turning her head towards you she showed off a dazzling smile and a “thank you for everything.” and a “No problem, princess.” from you she brought into another kiss but this one was calm and loving but with the taste of the wine from her mouth brought into your mouth you couldn’t wait to ask if you could go for round two.