#I still left with one braid on an edge so I still have an L

[forbidden-interlude]

The way my hair braiding session went. I’m at my limit today, I can’t take anything else. This is both a warning and a cry for help

[rooksamoris]

I've come to humbly request and spread propaganda for Jamil L/N.

Jamil taking his s/o's name strikes 3 birds with one stone: freedom from the Asims (you can't tell me there hasn't been a single Viper who didn't marry into another family and adopt their trade), freedom to marry the love of his life, and guaranteeing freedom for his descendants. Depending on how things go with Najma, they could erase the Viper name and, by extension, their servitude.

Also how does he react being called Mr.L/N?

💞 — in which jamil marries you and takes your last name.

💞 — jamil viper x reader

💞 — warnings: none, this is pure fluff and romance

💞 — 1.2k words. i ended up writing a mix of drabbles and headcanons <33 your propaganda turned into me making even more propaganda for this idea. honestly, seems very plausible that he would do something like this.

“I’ll take your last name. If we want to get married, I have to take your name, or else you’d be stuck serving with me,” Jamil said, breaking the silence. His eyes remained on the book in his lap, looking through the various pictures from his parents’ wedding. He would be wearing his father’s old garments. 

The man had an intricate belt with a jambiyah (dagger) tied around the waist of his thobe (long dress-like garment), and his hair was done in various braids with a shemagh (men’s headscarf) tied over it. He had a few ornate pieces of fabric draped over him like a cape and a spot of henna on the inside of his palm. The usual kohl (eyeliner) was a bit smudged from all the festivities—Jamil had never seen his father look this happy. 

His mother was dressed similarly, with old pieces of gold and silver jewelry about. Her big earrings had matched the rings his father wore, and she had kohl drawn on both her eyes and her chin, in the shape of ancient tattoos. Here hair had scented plants interwoven in the strands, and Jamil wondered if he should do the same with his hair, draping a shemagh over it. It seemed like something you would enjoy, and he would enjoy you taking them out at the end of the night. He spoke again, “What do you think of that?” he asked, concerning him taking your name.

You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder, flipping the page to another picture of his parents’s wedding, this one featuring his mother shyly lifting a piece of her sitara (long piece of fabric with various designs which directly translates to ‘curtain’) to hide her face from her husband, “I think it's a wonderful idea.”

🩷 — Taking your last name was probably the best decision he could have made. He indulged in the marriage festivities with you for both your sake and his parent’s sake. What he was excited about was signing the contract that officially gave him your surname—freeing him from the shackles of the Viper clan.

🩷 — He did it after the festivities when it was just the two of you guys and the imam as well as a legal advisor. You both were still in the wedding clothes, sitting on an ornate rug with a little table in front of you. 

🩷 — Jamil could feel the tremors of his heart in his hand as he lifted the pen and signed his name beside yours. This time, Viper was nowhere to be found.

🩷 — With that, Jamil shook hands with the imam and then handed the page to the legal advisor to be put in the Scalding Sands’s records. It all felt so surreal. He glanced over his shoulder to see you gleefully talking to the imam about the marriage and showing off your wedding band. 

🩷 — It was a thin gold ring that he had made with the antiquities left by his family. Nothing fancy—he wanted to give you diamonds, and yet you were so smitten with it and him.

Once nightfall came, Jamil lay beside you in your bed. A bed for the both of you. It was a bed he bought under his new name, Jamil (L/N), under the surname you gifted him. His charcoal eyes watched as you sat down at the edge of the bed, your night robe dipped down your back. It matched his nightgown, save for the patterns. He helped you fall in love with the comfortable garb of his homeland.

You turned slightly to see him, your eyes growing tender at the sight of him all disheveled. This was a sight just for you, “What are you thinking about?” you asked, reaching out to take his hand.

Jamil pulled you closer to him by your hand, forcing you to lay on top of him. He kissed your knuckles, “Thinking about you, hayati (my life),” he muttered, before letting his hand trail up your arm and to the back of your neck. His gaze had softened and his features relaxed, “Thank you,” 

You did not need to ask why he thanked you. You knew he felt indebted to you for being patient with him and becoming his spouse. You gave him the greatest gift ever, freedom. Free to be yours, free from Kalim Al-Asim. You freed his descendants… he would spend the rest of his life as your husband, repaying you with kisses across your skin and warm meals in your belly.

🩷 — It takes him a long time to get used to his new name, as well as his newfound freedom. After your wedding, he takes you out to do many of the things he could not do before, such as travel to another country, but even simple things like going out to parks.

🩷 — He did not have to worry about Kalim anymore, just your and his enjoyment.

🩷 — Jamil still has yet to get used to being called by your surname. When he notices it, he is filled with a smug and quiet pride, but most of the time he just ends up ignoring whoever is calling for him, or glancing over at you in confusion, thinking that they are speaking with you and not him.

🩷 — This was particularly apparent when it came to the reunion at Night Raven College.

🩷 — He did not want to go, but he could not reject you either. You were excited about seeing your silly friends, and who was he to stop you from going? Instead, he just sighed and went along with you, standing off to the side and watching as you ran about to gather Ace and Deuce, as well as greeting your other friends.

“If it isn’t the new Mr. (L/N),” Azul approached his former classmate with a suave grin. He had grown up, but it was clear he still kept that usual ‘evil businessman’ charm to him. His suit was freshly pressed and his hair, which had grown a bit, was brushed back neatly. Though, he was still wearing the same thin-rimmed glasses.

Jamil turned around when he heard your surname being called, and it took him a moment to realize what was happening. He was your husband. Sure, he remembered your wedding—he carried a picture from it all the time, but it was still strange hearing it affirmed by someone else. He tried to hide how happy he was to hear it behind a raised brow and his usual frown, “What do you want, Azul? My spouse isn’t going to be pulled into one of your schemes anymore,” he said, arms crossed.

Azul laughed at that, tilting his cane a bit as he leaned away from Jamil, “You wound me, Jamil. As if I would try anything like that anymore,” he replied, and the irony was not lost on him at all. Instead, he sighed and watched as Jamil’s eyes found your figure again. You were chasing Epel around, trying to get a hug from your old friend. It was just like before, except now you wore a ring from Jamil and he wore a name from you.

“You don’t seem so poor and unfortunate now,” Azul said.

Jamil could not bite back the slight twitch of his lips, “Not at all.”

[bcdwhcre]

heyy can you write some fluff headcannons stuff about L x fem reader? Whatever you have in mind, thank uuu

“Gently,” L x Fem!Reader

Summary: Some cute gentle headcannons of L and the reader <3

Warnings: None

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Neither of you could explain how you both ended up in the position you were currently in right now but it just randomly happened.

You both sat in your living room, enjoying each other’s company and talked about whatever flowed from each of your mouths. That is until L ended up on the floor before you, his back facing you and his body sitting between your legs as you sat at the edge of the couch.

Your fingers combing through his long dark hair. The tv playing some comedy movie you had put on a while ago but began to talk and focus on each other instead.

Hair ties and hair clips rested on your lap as you started to comb and braid pieces of his hair a specific way. It was a dumb idea that you had brought up but it was a shock when L agreed to let you do it.

The smile on your face, the fits of giggles that escaped your mouth made it all worth it to him. Your laughter filling his ears, making the smile grow on his face.

He could feel your fingers tugging at his hair and doing whatever you wanted with it, making him a little nervous but also excited to see what you ended up coming up with.

The relationship you two shared have only been going on for a little less than a year. It randomly happened one day when you both met inside of a library, seeing you sit in a chair and read a thriller book.

It intrigued him and although he wasn’t the best at talking, he surprisingly had enough courage to walk up and make the first move.

After that the two of you bonded over books and over movies. Then you both found out that even though you were the same, you were also very different.

He was into sweets, you were into salty treats. He was into educational and detective books while you were into thriller and romance books.

Now here you both were.

“Ouch.” L mumbled, feeling the tug on his hair as you continued to braid the small pieces.

“Sorry.” You laughed slightly, the concentration on your face evident as you tried to work with what you were given.

After some time you finished, watching him stand up and the amount of laughter that left your lips as you watched him walk towards the mirror was a great amount.

He stared at himself in the mirror for what seemed like forever. Not only was he in shock with what you had done but he also found it hilarious. Some laughter escaped his mouth at the bright pink hair clips and the fact his hair was brush back from his forehead, exposing his entire face.

“I look ridiculous.” He spoke, turning to face you with a flushed face as if he was almost embarrassed at how funny he looked.

“I think you look like a pretty princess.” You admitted, crossing your arms over your chest in almost a pouty way.

“Thank you.” He stepped over, planting a quick kiss to your forehead.

After that, without much thought of how you got there, you both were in the kitchen. His hair still braided and full of bright hair clips while you both started to make cupcakes, a treat he had been asking for all day.

You finally gave in, the both of you making quite a mess on the counters while trying to teach him how to make his own cupcakes so he can stop asking you to make them everyday.

“I know how to make them! I just like it when you make it.” He scoffed, cracking the egg open and letting the insides fall right into the bowl on top of the cupcake mix.

“So you’ve been pretending to not know?” You asked, the memories of him telling you he didn’t know how to make him so you can.

“Maybe.” He shrugged, a cheesy smile appearing on his lips.

“What a little shit.” You laughed, mixing the mix together and sticking your finger in it before rubbing off the mix onto the tip of his nose.

His nose began to scrunch up at the feeling of it while also in shock at the fact you decided to waste some mix just to put on his face.

“What a waste.” He muttered, making you roll your eyes and put another wipe of mix onto his cheek this time.

A sudden dramatic gasp fell from his lips at you wasting even more that could have gone to his precious cupcakes. L decided to lean forehead, pressing a kiss on your lips but only because the mix on his nose smeared against yours.

When he pulled back, he turned his head to rub his cheek on yours, once again smearing the mix on both of your faces. You let out a grunt, trying to pry yourself away from his body.

“Jesus, L!” You said out loud, hearing his small fits of laughter leave his lips.

“Don’t worry, I won’t waste it like you. I’ll lick it off.”

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A/N:

Wondering if this is the fluff I had envisioned in my head but we’ll see how it does. It’s also somewhat short so I’m sorry :(

• DEATH NOTE MASTERLIST •

• MAIN MASTERLIST •

[bvbygrl-writes]

Season of The Witch (3)

Pairing: Jacob Black x Witch!Reader x Edward Cullen

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: (Y/n) (L/n) is 19 and still trying to figure out the world. She isn't sure of a lot of things but she is sure of one: she's gonna have her cake and eat it too.

A/N: Edward's here!

Warnings: N/A but it will be 18+ at some point most likely. Minors and blanks dni. Also I didn't edit any of it so ignore any typos.

The morning sunlight streamed in gently through every window in your room. The sounds of birds and crickets singing in a chorus together were the first sounds you awoke to. The only way you knew last night wasn’t a dream was from the text on your phone from Jacob, letting you know he was looking forward to seeing you. You felt dizzy with delight, sending him a reply to know you were looking forward to seeing him too.

Stretching as you stand up, you walk over to the balcony, opening the doors as you step out into the unusually warm Fall air. Looking down, you see the progress your mom has made in such a short time in the yard. A pergola now sat near the edge, a beautiful outdoor dining table sat under it with string lights that had not yet been turned on. Directly below your window, she had began on a garden. Strawberries, blueberries, tomatoes, pumpkins, and many different types of herbs were already in bloom, despite the season. Looking to your left, you saw her floating near the window to your dad’s office. She was finishing planting a few flowers in a planter box she had added. She smiled as she noticed you, flying over a bit as she perched her elbows on the railing of your balcony.

“Good morning, sweetie. I couldn’t sleep last night, I was too excited to start decorating! I have so many ideas blooming.” she gushed to you enthusiastically. You yawn, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes as you give her a soft smile.

“It looks amazing so far mom. Just be careful, it’s broad daylight. Anyone could walk by and see you flying and sprouting stuff from the ground.” you remind her. She rolls her eyes, waving you off.

“Already ahead of ya. I put a veil over the house so to anyone, it’ll just look like I’m on a ladder. Me and your dad had breakfast already since he had to be in for work early but I left you a plate in the kitchen!” your stomach grumbles at the mention of breakfast. “Also I left a list of potion supplies we’re growing low on, do you think you could head into the woods after you’re dressed and get them for me?” you nod lazily and she squeezes your hand gently before floating back over to the window, continuing her meticulous flower planting.

After you’ve gotten ready for the day, you head down to the kitchen. On the counter, there’s a plate of pancakes, fresh maple syrup, and a bowl of fruit. You see the list stuck to the fridge with a magnet. Taking your plate to the dining room, you begin looking the list over as you scarf down your breakfast. Everything should be easy enough to gather. 

Placing your plate into the dishwasher, you toss the list in your satchel before grabbing some twine and a basket near the back door. As you step out of it, you notice the entrance your mom must’ve made for you to the forest. The trees are braided around each other in a circular shape, flowers woven throughout.

There’s not a clear path as you go deeper but that doesn’t scare you. Waving your hand, a golden luminous line follows behind you so you can easily find your way back home. With your list floating near your head with a pen, you start to search for the first ingredient.

“Mugwort…mugwort…ah, there it is!” Taking out a pair of plant sheers, you cut a nice amount, your twine floating out of your bag to tie the bushel up before it floats back to your open bag. The enchanted pen crosses it out from the list. “Just eight more things to go.” you mutter to yourself. Hopefully the rest would be as easy to find.

With eight out of nine things gathered, you just needed the final one: water from a natural source. As you went further and further into the woods, you could hear running water. Turning left, you walked forward finally finding the source of the sound. There was a small creek running further than your eyes could see. Taking out a mason jug, you leaned down to the water filling it up. It was going well enough until you heard a noise. It was fast footsteps and from the sound of it, it was getting closer to you. Standing up with your half filled jar, you got prepared in a stance.

 An unnaturally fast blur was a few feet from you. Without a second thought, you shook your hands raising them above your head. Thick vines and roots began to raise, wrapping tightly around the creature which you now could identify as a…person? If you could even call him that. The man before you was gorgeous, his face looking as if it was chiseled from marble. But something was different about him. He was unusually pale, with eyes of gold and pretty pink lips. You watched as he struggled in the vines, an intense look on his face until his eyes met you. Your mouth was agape, eyes wide as you approached him.

“What…what are you? You’re clearly warm blooded but you’re definitely not human.” he said in an aggressive tone. Waving your hand, you released him from the vines. He wasted no time in approaching you, a mere inches away from you. Your head began to throb a bit. Was he…

“Are you trying to read my mind?” you questioned, scowling at him. Your mom had taught you how to block your thoughts from other occults but it always came at a cost. You got a small headache whenever you did so. His eyes widened, staggering back a bit.

“Yes but…how did you do that? I could get into your mind but, I was blocked from your thoughts.” he responded in amazement. He reached out, grabbing your face in both his hands, causing you to shudder. His hands were as cold as ice. The speed, his body temperature, the color of his eyes. It was all starting to make sense now. 

“Vampire?”

“Witch?”

You both said at the same time. You both step back from each other, scared of what the other may do, not knowing that neither of you were a threat. “I thought all witches went extinct during Salem.” he said. You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“Clearly not. They did a number on us but many of us exist, although most are outside of America. But as you know, we’re not an enemy to none but a friend to all.” you explain. He steps closer to you, running a hand down your shoulder.

“Amazing.” he answers breathlessly. Looking up at him, you get an even better look at his features now. He truly is a sight to behold. Before you can say another word, he’s on the ground as a shirtless man you’re quite familiar with attacks him.

“Get away from her, bloodsucker!” Jacob shouts. Your eyes widen in shock. The two of them roll around on the ground, attacking each other. There are punches thrown left and right and Jacob is surprisingly holding his weight well. But you’re not sure if either one will live if they go on like this. And you know if Jacob gets any more angry, he might wolf out.

You blow air from your mouth, a big swarm of wind towards them. The both fly back from one another, landing on the ground with a thud. Even with the cuts on his body, Jacob still looks up at you with concern.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks, standing up with a grunt as he rushes to your side. He grabs your face, looking it over for any signs of damage. You place your hand over his, causing him to look into your eyes. He relaxes at your touch some.

“I’m okay, Jacob honestly. I can hold my own quite well. Plus,” you look over at the vampire who’s now standing up, near you but far enough away that Jacob can’t touch him. “He’s no threat. I read into his mind a little, Edward is no threat.” Edward smiles at that, causing Jacob to growl, pulling you back flush into his chest. 

“Well that’s not fair. You can read mine but yours is off limits?” He asks. Jacob’s grip tightens on you some.

“You don’t deserve to know a single thought in her head.” He spits out, causing Edward to look up at him with a scowl. You could tell Jacob was slowly losing his composure. Releasing yourself from his grip, you grab his hand tugging him back towards the direction you came.

“Let’s just go, Jake. You were going to show me around, remember?” You ask, looking up at him. He looks down at you smiling, squeezing your hand some. You put his mind at ease, bringing him a sense of calm just from being near him. Looking back over your shoulder, you see Edward still watching you. “The name’s (Y/n) by the way.”

When you’re finally back to your house, you see a motorcycle parked in your driveway, a helmet hanging from the right handle. You look from the bike to Jacob. “This yours?” you ask him, walking around the bike as you inspect it.

“Yeah, I built it myself. I’m pretty good with things like that.” he shrugs, as if it’s no big deal. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls something out. Stepping towards you, he motions for you to turn around. You do so, lifting your hair as he places a necklace around your neck. It’s a gold necklace with a pendant of a wolf on it. You hold the charm in your hand, smiling. “I noticed the other day you like to wear a lot of necklaces so I made this one for you.”

“Wait, you made this? Jake this is amazing! Thank you, really, thank you.” you say, turning around to hug him. He instantly reciprocates it, his hands trailing up and down your back before kissing the top of your head.

“A special girl deserves a special gift. And you…are a special girl.” He whispers the last part, pulling back from you. You bite your lip nervously, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet.

“I feel like since you know my…secret, it’s only right that I tell you I know yours too.” his eyes widen before he looks away, turning his attention to the ground. “It’s okay, I think it’s cool. I saw your tattoo and recognized the symbol from one of my occult history books. You know, witches and werewolves have worked alongside each other for centuries.” you tell him, grabbing his hand. He lets out a sigh of relief, massaging your hand in his.

“I grew up hearing legends about witches but I wasn’t aware they were still around. I guess it was written in the stars for us to get along so well.” he says, handing you the helmet as he mounts the bike. You put it on, strapping it in place before hopping on behind him. You wrap your arms around his middle, leaning against his back.

“I guess so.”

4

[wosowrites]

Leah Williamson x Reader (Stop the Teasing but Don’t Stop)

warnings: flirting, slight s3xu@l teasing

prompt: in which Leah is completely head over heels for the reader, and the reader knows but chooses not to say anything to keep teasing Leah.

a/n: based off this brilliant request here and then another one that suggested writing it from Leah’s POV

I had loved y/n y/l/n since I was 24. But she had always been perfect, and beautiful… and it took me a couple years to grow into my own skin. From the second we joined the Arsenal academy, we were best friends. Then we made our debut for the first team on the same day, together, and then england… and then I realized I was in love with her.

But it felt like it was too late. She had dated a couple footballers before. A couple being Ona Batlle and then briefly Jill Roord. I felt as though she still saw me as being the same, weird haired, crooked smiled girl I was when we first met.

And that’s all I could think about while sitting in Alexs kitchen.

"I mean- I like the way she talks. And I like the way she ties her shoes super slowly to make sure the bows are centered and perfect. And when she’s tired she gets so mad but all you have to do to replace the anger with softness if feed her. I like everything about her, Alex and she just doesn’t care," I said to Alex Scott, my head resting on my elbow as I drank a gin and tonic in her apartment.

"I don’t know why you don’t tell her directly. It’s kind of a her problem she doesn’t know because you make it obvious," Alex said, taking a sip of her own drink. "I clearly don’t. She would say something if she did know," I sighed. "Leah, maybe she’s just scared. Y/n is… loving yes but closed off. She always looks kind of scared when it comes to any kind of confrontation. She’s soft and maybe she just wants you to make the first move," Alex said, resting her hand on my shoulder.

I wasn’t so sure.

Your POV

You sat on the couch of your own apartment alone. The rain was coming down heavy and all the lights in your apparement were off, making the room gray and dull. Depressing.

You were thinking about Leah. Thinking about how you liked to tease her, and how you knew she liked you but just couldn’t bring yourself to act on it. Your brain was full of what ifs. What if she was just teasing you as well? What if she didn’t actually like you? What if you said something and the whole team dynamic was off?

Leah’s POV

The next morning I got up, got dressed, ate a little bit and then left for training. I had crashed at Alex’s apartment but that happened so often i had spare everything over there. Pulling into the Arsenal training facility, I noticed y/n’s car parked. And then I saw her walk out. Her long hair we’re in two loose braids as she always tied her hair later on. She wore Arsenal sweatpants and an Arsenal tee shirt as well as white running shoes. She looked perfect.

I got out of my car and locked it before jogging towards her. "You look good y/l/n," I said, winking at her slightly. She didn’t blush. She never blushed. Instead she smiled and looked up at me a little. "Thank you. You don’t look bad yourself," she answered.

And then she checked me out. I knew it was teasing, but could it possibly be something else? Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe she actually-

But my thoughts were cut off when her eyes wandered up my arms and then back to my lips before looking forward again.

I thought I might pass out. She was so, so beautiful.

Weeks went on. Weeks where loving her started to become less fun and more painful. But that pain only surfaced when I was alone. When I was with her, things felt right and good.

She pushed me over the edge during a team dinner at a fancy restaurant. I hated every option on the menu but I ended up ordering some weird sun fried tomato pasta, knowing y/n would probably eat it.

I saved a spot for her beside me, but she was running late. She came in ten minutes after the original meeting time. That was the first time she made me dizzy that night.

Her natural hair was loose and fell down her back, looking amazing and she was wearing black dress pants with a black vest type of top. She had pearls on her neck and ears and when she sat down I noticed she had a purse which matched. "Thank you for your arrival Miss y/n," Kim joked, making her roll your eyes. "Sorry sorry I had to pick something up at the store. You guys clearly didn’t check the menu before coming here. Leah isn’t going to eat any of this," she said before rummaging in your purse and pulling out a ham sandwich from Tesco. "I’ll give it to you when the rest of the food arrives?" y/n said, looking into my eyes.

I wanted to kiss her then and there. And for whatever reason I told her that. "I could kiss you right now," I told her, and I saw some of the girls roll their eyes in the corner of mine. "Well not here Williamson," she winked.

She then struck up conversation with Beth and Viv, and I was left staring into space.

She ordered some fancy thing I couldn’t pronounce and when it came she went to grab the sandwich for me from her bag. But she couldn’t do it without teasing me. She laid her hand on my thigh, almost under my dress and then leaned down to get the food from her bag, grabbing it with her right hand. She sat back up, her hand still very much there, and maybe even a little under the hem of my dress. "Here," she smiled, sending me a wink.

My breathing was heavy and I know she knew that. My thighs were closer together than ever but right when I thought her hand would be there the whole supper, she moved it.

I think I might have seen stars.

Your POV

What was I doing?

I loved teasing her. I loved the feeling of victory I got when she so clearly was affected by the smallest touch, the little glance and the most insignificant action. It made my heart full, it made me feel like a winner. The only problem was that maybe I hadn’t stopped to think what it did to her.

But she told me herself later that night.

I said goodnight to the girls and then got into my car, purposely avoiding Leah. Driving a little over the speed limit, I rushed to my apartment and then into my bedroom. I let myself fall down onto the bed, sinking into the foam mattress.

My brain wandered with thoughts of Leah, images of my hand on her legs. But I snapped myself out of it to change into sweatpants and a sports bra. I needed to get her out of my head.

And then a knock echoed through my apartment and I knew who it was instantly.

Leah’s POV

I knew I had to say something to her when she left the restaurant without saying good bye to me.

"What the fuck is her problem?" I breathed out, complaining to Katie. "I mean she basically had her hand under my dress and now she leaves without saying anything to me?" I said. "Ew. Wait at the dinner table? Really? Gross," Katie groaned. "Not the point! It’s weird right?" I sighed, walking in the direction of our parked cars. "Yeah. I'd say," Katie answered.

"I’m gonna talk to her," I decided.

And that was that.

Suddenly I was standing at the door of the apartment of the girl I was head over heels for. My fist hovered over the surface before finally knocking rhythmically. It took a second for her to answer, but I could tell by the look in her eyes that she knew I was going to be the one at her door. "Lee..." she said, using the nickname my teammates called me but she never used. "You need to stop," I started saying, pushing my way past her and into the middle of her apartment. "You need to stop leading me on. Stop checking me out and the ignoring me, stop... touching me and then not saying goodbye. It's confusing and it hurts," I said, tears falling down my cheeks.

I was still wearing my short black cocktail dress, looking extremely fancy next to her. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she hadn't thought that her actions could have hurt me like this. "I'm sorry-" she said, her eyes filling with hurt. "I dont want to hurt you. I've never ever wanted to hurt you. I just- I feel like my brain cant comprehend that someone could actually like me for me. I dont need to try with you and... I mean I knew you liked me but I didn't know know." she said, clearly hoping her words made sense.

"But I do. I do like you and If you don't like me back please let me go and stop putting your hand under my dress at restaurants," I said, my chest heaving and my body shaking from the fear, pain, excitement and stress I was feeling. "Okay. But... say I did like you. Then I could keep doing it..."

There it was again. The flirting, the teasing, the words that made me turn red. But this time she looked genuine, and her body was getting closer to mine.

Before I knew it, she had grabbed a hold of my right hand in her left and her right hand was on my waist, slowly rubbing my side. "Yes. Well- not at restaurants because Katie thought it was gross but... other places," I told her, my breath catching in my throat as she came closer to me, lips only centimetres apart. "Here?" she suggested, her nose touching mine. "Yeah. Here."

And then our lips were tangled, our hands were roaming and our minds were at peace. What better world than the one where I got the confirmation that the girl I've loved for what felt like forever, loved me back.

[youremyheaven]

Jisoo: Kibbe Analysis

i've covered all the other Blackpink girlies so i thought its time i did Jisoo!!

She's officially 5'3 but i think she's actually probably 5'1.

She's trim and small ish with angular edges. Her arms and legs are short-ish (in proportion to her body). She's small but still a little broad.

Kibbe describes Soft Gamine body type as follows:

Soft, curvy body tends toward fleshiness. Curved bustline and hips with some natural waist definition. Arms and legs tend to be soft and fleshy, particularly through the hip and thigh areas. 

I have noticed with SGs in particular how they tend to have prominent hips or more pear-shaped bodies. This does not have to mean super exaggerated pear shaped ig baddie type figure, just that their hips are broader than their shoulders

Jisoo has wide hips, fleshy thighs, some waist definition but relatively small shoulders.

The outfit on the left flatters her more than the one on the right.

She has relatively shorter limbs, as SGs do (in proportion to their body) and like most SGs she's very petite at 5'1

Here's Jisoo with some verified SGs (L to R, Winona Ryder, Reese Witherspoon, Halle Berry, Sally Field)

SGs bone structure is described as delicate but angular. All these ladies have smaller features but they're also slightly angular. They're not completely baby-faced. They have well defined noses, cheekbones and jawlines.

SGs gain most of their weight in their arms, hips and thighs and face.

Even when they're thin, they look healthy because they have a rounded body shape paired with short limbs.

Most of these outfits kinda look ??? on her, except the second black dress which is tea length which is like THE Gamine recc. Long lines, layers, clashing patterns, lack of waist definition all drown Soft Gamines.

The first couple of outfits where she's in long trousers kind of hides her frame and since she's already very petite, it kind of looks like the clothes are wearing her and not the other way around.

Compare that to any of these other looks (esp the black fitted blazer with double braids for Dior) she shines in these Gamine lewkzz!!

Gamine outfits flatter her so much!! which is to say that shorter, more tailored pieces with waist definition look bomb af on her.

I have seen some people say she's an SN but there's no way she could be one, she does not have the width at all and she's so obviously an SG???

Jisoo has Romantic, Gamine & Natural essences.

[find-roronoa-zoro]

Roronoa Zoro X CisFem Reader

31

"Dump me?" Zoro stood in the doorway.

The look on his face sent your gut straight through the floor.

"No, Tiger... You didn't come in at the right part of the conversation." your mouth was suddenly a desert.

"I'm not sure there was a right part of the conversation F/N." he crossed his arms, "Why is our relationship such a hot topic in the Newgate house?"

"We're just gonna..." Sabo trailed off as he scooted passed you dragging Marco with him.

"L-lets go to the den," you suggested, "I can explain."

He followed you to the next room, arms still crossed, a stern expression you'd never been the cause of plastered on his face.

"I was just nagging my brother's about the fact that they have no gray hair." you self-consciously ran your fingers over the braid draped over your left shoulder, "Marco, well, you know how he is..."

"I thought we were passed the age gap." he interrupted.

"W-we are.. I am - " you stammered surprised by his demeanor. 

That tone was new too.

It made you uneasy.

"How many times do I have to say it doesn't bother me? Who cares what other people say?" he remained still and guarded.

Your heart had begun to race - you inhaled deeply to try and catch your nervous breath.

"I - I know."

"I don't think you do know. Why can't you just take my word?" he scoffed, "I'm not a child, F/N."

"What?" you looked up at him with wide eyes, "I know that..."

"Then don't treat me like one!" his raised voice made you shrink, "You're supposed to tell me how you feel so I can help. How are we partners if you keep it to yourself?"

"Ok, that's fair." you raised your hands, "I know insecurities are bothersome."

"Who cares? I'm here to get you passed them, right?"

Oh man, you didn't deserve him at this moment.

The entire time you were upset about people staring and their judgment, Zoro was there too. He'd been there to prove them wrong while you let it eat you up.

He'd heard his fair share of sugar mama jokes and endured Marco's left handed remarks, but none of that mattered because at the end of the day you were there. You knew he worked hard for what he had and he didn't feel the need to prove it to anyone else. So, why were you so hung up on this?

"I'm sorry," you murmured stepping closer to him.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his messy hair, "I don't know what to do."

"What do you mean by that?" tears were already stinging the edges of your eyes.

"If this is going to continue to be an issue, I don't want to get any deeper than I already am." his chest felt like it was caving in.

It was completely silent for what felt like an eternity.

"Tiger -" your voice was barely a whisper.

"I... I think we need a break." his ears were ringing.

"No... No, please." it felt like your heart had just vanished while you struggled to speak through your tears.

He kissed your forehead and briskly stepped out of the room. He was completely unprepared for this conversation and to see you fall apart. It felt like his insides had just been sucked into a void.

What the fuck did he just do?

Sabo watched Zoro practically sprint out of the house. He turned down the hall hearing you sputter.

"What just happened?" the blonde asked entering the den to find you crying.

"Marco..." you whimpered covering your face, "please?"

The younger blonde turned swiftly into the hallway finally processing what was happening.

"Marco!" he shouted up the stairs on his way through the house, "F/N needs you in the den, now!"

Sabo didn't wait for a response as he continued outside. The screen door slammed against the door jamb while he halted seeing Zoro's truck already headed down the street.

"What the hell was that?" Ace questioned rounding the side of the house from the garage, "He was cursing and punched a dent into the side of his truck."

Sabo's green eyes swayed to his brother as he sighed, "I think he just broke up with F/N."

"Hey," Marco murmured calmly holding you on the sofa in the den, "try to take a breath. You'll pass out at this rate - yoi."

You leaned into his side and focused on taking a full breath through your sobs. Marco rubbed comforting circles over your back and shushed you gently. He hadn't seen you like this in a long time. The last six months were full of heartbreak, he hated that you had to work so hard to hold on to what good moments you were given. He also realized his roll in what had just taken place.

"I'm sorry, yoi."

You shook your head and looked up at him, "It's my fault. I-I was too in my head about it."

"I made it harder though," he sighed, "I just didn't want him to be in it for the wrong reasons, yoi."

This proved in the most unfortunate way that he wasn't.

Harping on the age difference provided unnecessary strain. Marco didn't want that for you.

"Is everything ok?" Sabo's voice drew your attention to the doorway where he stood with Ace holding a tray, "Here, we thought you might need these."

The boys crossed the room handing you a warm damp cloth to soothe your puffy eyes. There was also headache medicine and water. They knew you well, crying always made your head hurt.

"It's not ok," you sat up to accept what they'd brought, "but I'll figure it out."

"Why would he do that?" Sabo dropped down next to you while Ace took a seat on the floor.

"Yeah, you can't just dump someone because of one fight." your freckled brother added.

"It wasn't a fight really," you sniffled pressing the warm cloth to your eyes, "it was a major issue that I should have worked out but didn't."

Sabo sighed disappointed remembering your conversation back in December about dating younger than you. Your concern was that he wouldn't be able to handle it, and here you were not handling it.

"Should we talk to him?" Ace asked, "I mean he'll be around, he's Luffy's best friend."

"Nope, please just leave it. I don't know what to do, but I don't want any drama." you huffed having finally collected yourself as best you could.

Your head was fuzzy and throbbing and you couldn't really keep a realistic grasp on what was going on. The absolute love of your life just stormed out because you were being a child. Not your greatest moment, but you had to redeem yourself and fix it.

How?

________________

"Oh man, you're an idiot." the redhead chuckled flipping his shot glass over and waving the bar tender back over, "keep 'em coming."

The greenette next to him huffed and leaned on the bar resting his head in his palm.

"Shut up."

The bar tender placed two more shots down in front of them.

"Hey, it's alright. I mean I was stupid and dumped her too - a couple of times." Shanks held up the glass.

"I'm not like you." Zoro muttered ignoring the redhead's gesture and downing his bourbon.

Shanks scoffed, "Right, well doctor heart stealer will probably swoop back in - he's been waiting." he slapped a hand across Zoro's back annoyingly hard, " Ya had a good run kiddo."

"I gotta get out of here." the greenette stood to leave ignoring Shanks.

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

The sweltering heat was a lot.

The sun was baking in heat in any and all forms of life from above.

Night Raven Students hurry to shades or run to class to hopefully get some cool air in their systems within the stone walls.

But alas, one student stood out from the rest on this hot day, leaning by one of the stones with closed eyes as one hand held firm his leather bound bag while the other rubs his sore meaty neck as people walk by is Leona Kingscholar waiting for something to happen it seems.

Come on you sneak, I won’t ignore you ditching me. He thought to himself in a scowl, a yawn showing off his fangs erupts his form as he cracked his neck.

His feline ears twitch at a certain sound.

His beautiful gem greens of eyes open a crack and look up.

His handsome face broke in a smirk.

Walking up to the wall is Jamil Viper wearing a short sleeved button up and a sweater vest to work well with the heat on the school grounds.

Well, guess you’re worth a wait…

A few birds chirp afar, a distance ballad melody for prying ears to hear and enjoy or loath as they wander about this fine summer day.

The breeze was now just picking up and getting a bit cooler as if the Gods finally answered the pleads of many to come and settle down this blazing heat.

Tucked away in a beautiful green house of grass, hidden away with the scent of floral and soil, behind the soft shadows of large leaves and tall plants around, hushed away by the gentle flow of the stream two souls connect as two lips press against each other in sweet open mouth kisses.

The prince snakes an arm around the thin waste on top of him as the Viper’s son rubs his fingers through dense black hair.

A small growl leaves the kissing as a finger gently tugs at a hidden knot.

Jamil pulls away, cole eye staring at emeralds. “Maybe if you take better hygiene you wouldn’t be so knotted up.” He scolded lightly, ignoring the would be scolding of the lion undoing his updo but leaves the braids.

Leona rolls his eyes in response and merely leans back up to meet Jamil’s soft lips again, momentarily silencing the servant boy. Jamil hums softly in the kiss, pushing back to add pressure as their mouths open and they kiss with much more space and care for, their lips and tongue exploring and tasting this dish they’re both so familiar with already yet are trying new ways still.

It’s hard to pinpoint when this began with the two, when the barely edged line in the sand of schoolmates turned partners in kissing was crossed, but they can know when the first time their lips met in such a personal way. . .

—

“Hey, you wanna go to town sometime?”

Jamil looked up at the Savannaclaw dorm head and sigh, bag being fixed around his shoulders, he harbored his voice up to the surface in the sea of noise, “Again? Why are you so hooked on taking me to town someday?”

Leona shrugs and walks with him, “Cause I want to.”

“You ask me almost every day now…”

“I’m what some people call…persistence.”

Jamil rolls his cole eyes under his eyelids. Cole gray, like a fireplace burning down low with soft embers on a cold winter’s night, eyes that are cold to the glare yet have a deep rooted warmth hidden away.

Leona smirks, “What’s the matter, worried I might kiss ya?”

Jamil freezes as he stares up at Leona in shock that such words left those royal lips.

And there is it~

The hunger of new knowledge Leona craves for plenty.

The yearn to lick his teeth in thirst as he gets new information.

He has always been curious about his school chum in Scarabia since the first day he arrived. So isolating and cold, a perfect little snake hidden away in the grass blending in. But even small snakes can pack a mighty lethal bite, and Jamil was no exception after all as proven when the live feed of him trying to mind control Azul Ashengrotto was shown on his phone during winter break and his overblot right after.

This was the start of the journey Leona was aching for new things to learn in his boring school life and Jamil was just so beyond perfect to learn. 

Leona watches as Jamil looks away, smirking at the obvious warm glow on the younger’s cheeks. He bends his torso a touch as he gets close to the ear of his little prey, “If I were, I would gladly make your first kiss special~” 

Jamil blinks, “What?”

Leona tilts his head, “Huh?”

Jamil turns his head and stares at his upperclassman, his perfect eyebrows curved in a forever curious motion as he stares at him so intensely.

“Kalim was my first kiss.”

Leona’s ears turn down in a flat motion as he stares at Jamil in shock. Did I hear that right? He thought with eyes wide open.

He can’t possibly imagine those two faces merging together in any context or meaning of those translations!

He watches as Jamil walks ahead in the hall, away from Leona’s side, to the bright eyed little sunshine that steals all of his attention.

Images of their faces growing close and locking in broad daylight sneaks up in Leona’s mind.

Flashing imagery of Kalim’s arms wrapping around Jamil’s thin neck right there in the damn hallway burns Leona’s eyes with each blink.

Sicking sounds of their mouths moving and making gentle sounds hit his ears with his mind’s own personal record player on loop as he pictures Kalim’s face attached to Jamil’s.

Kalim’s eyes open as his tongue roams the mouth of his servant.

Kalim’s little smirk of victory as he so publicly claimed Jamil in front of him.

“Uh, Leona, you’re gonna stand there forever or–”

Leona pauses.

Leona looks to his side and sees Ruggie standing there confused.

Leona blinks for a second and looks back to the halls, seeing Jamil and Kalim walking away talking in clear imbalance.

Soon, Ruggie’s snickering takes him out of his entranced space, “Daydreaming much? That’s dangerous Leona~”

Leona frowns as his feet start walking. Stupid Viper, why did he have to spring that on me?! He growls silently as he ignores his friend’s calls out as he tries to keep up, his mind thinking back on the conversation just a few minutes ago.

How can he say something so matter-of-factly!?

Jamil glances over his shoulder as he crosses the mirror to Scarabia with Kalim, who is talking about whatever, watching as the lion prince of the Savannah walks into his mirror with a scowl on his face. His angry, handsome, face.

Jamil lets out a sigh as he accepts the different heat he’s used to in his dorm

Great, what was that all about anyways?

—

Leona watches Jamil’s face closely, watching how he breaths and how his face twitches some in emotions. Jamil’s hands dig deep into the fabric of his shirt as he cuddles close.

It was only a week since that hallway conversation when the two met up in this way, buried away in the back of an empty locker room after their club activities lips locked. 

All Leona had to do was be angry from that conversation for Jamil to be curious.

All Jamil had to do was bump into Leona for him to crack and crash their faces together in a lip bruising memory.

All they had to do was be so frustrated in their own curiosity they end up in this situation. 

Leona smirks as he hears Jamil’s voice gasp in a hitch as he rubs his ear shell as their lips meet in the kiss, keeping a mental note of the noise and what causes it.

Feeling annoyed he’s the only one shaking, Jamil shoves his tongue into Leona’s mouth without much warning. He smirks to himself as he felt and heard Leona be taken aback from the sensation and focused on this.

This is just like speaking, yes? Just focus on your Rs… He thought as he acted as if he’s taking a special conversation lacking sound but with lots of R related words to draw out.

Leona’s tongue lightly bumps onto his, the rough feeling startling Jamil some, both obviously curious and eager of the organs in their mouths. 

It takes so much of the other to not melt to the sensation of this kiss and seem weak in front of their momentary partner.

It takes so much not to grab and cling onto the body in front of them.

It takes so much not to let their vocal cords work freely at the warm feeling around them.

The two pull away, gasping for air.

Emerald greens stare deep into cole black.

Animal fangs gleaming in labored breaths matching the others’ less fanging canines.

One way of messy knots of black vines stands in comparison to the one that grew messy in the moment. 

They stare at each other, lips swollen and glittering in sweat from the intense kisses, hands on each other to keep balance but also to not let go. 

“From now on, I’m learning all your firsts, got that?”

“HUH?!”

—

True to his word, since then Leona learned new things about Jamil.

Jamil’s first move mark was made by Leona behind a pillar after the final class period.

Jamil’s first mature touch was given by Leona after a joint P.E. class.

Jamil’s first time touching someone else in such a personal way was thanks to Leona convincing him to swim in the watering hole in Savannaclaw’s lounge late on a school night. 

Despite the intense heat that oozes out of the two in their casual affair that’s what it was: 

Casual.

Jamil doesn’t know when Leona will randomly appear in front of him.

Jamil doesn’t know when Leona will randomly kiss him again.

Jamil doesn’t know when Leona will suddenly take even more firsts.

Jamil doesn’t know anything and it’s killing him!

So now here they are, in the green house, locking lips when they should be in their final classes of their day, with Jamil sitting on the dorm leader’s legs. 

Leona rubs circles on the vice’s back as Jamil’s head lays on his chest, both of their lips reddish from their nibbles and puckering sucks.

Jamil’s eyes are closed, listening to the sound of Leona’s lungs and hearts make music under the hardened flesh of his chest, his body collecting and settling his breathing carefully.

Vrrr…

Jamil’s eyebrow quirks slightly.

Vrrr…

What is that-

Jamil sat up fast, cranking his neck to look up at Leona who looked at him confused in return.

“You purr??”

Leona’s ears flatten and he looks away to the side, his expression not fitting his words, “No-”

Jamil smirks victoriously as he feels the soft vibrations of a purr in Leona’s chest still.

“Oh hush up!”

The snake lets out a mighty laugh as Leona growls, cheeks flushed in exposed embarrassment. 

The two calmed down and stayed still after a moment, bodies close.

“So,” Leona started, “How was your first time ditching class?”

Jamil pressed his cheek against the bicep under him, so relaxed with the warm solid body holding him with the purrs. “Honestly, nerve wrecking…” He admitted, his eyes slowly fluttering to a close. “But at the same time, it’s calming…”

“Well obviously, you’ve been overworking so much you deserve to step back for a while.”

“Mm…”

“. . . Are you falling asleep on me?”

Leona looks down and pauses.

He watches Jamil’s steady breathing.

He admires how the light through the glass and plants form lovely light beams and shadows across Jamil’s smooth dark olive skin and flowing silky black hair.

He looks peaceful…

Slowly, he raises a hand and places the palm against the younger man’s head.

Jamil hums softly and seems to openly accept the touch.

Leona smiles to himself, leaning his head back into the grass as his own tired eyes close and accept the warmth as well.

Maybe this heat isn’t so bad?

[usafphantom2]

Early in the program, when then Colonel (he retired as a two-star General) Charles Minter was in command of the SR 71 program, an incident slowed down an operational flight. A mechanic placed the J-58 inlet spike on the wrong side of the airplane. This caused significant damage to the engine. I don’t know how long it takes to replace and transfer the spike to the other side, but I’m sure one of my experts can tell us. This caused Colonel Minter to order that every SR 71 in the fleet, 29 of them, be painted with a stencil of an R on the right side or an L on the left side to keep it straight. Next time you visit an SR 71, see if they still have the left and right identified as they do at the Smithsonian in Chantilly, Virginia. John Olp, SR-71 engine expert, told me something I’d never heard before about the cutting-edge engineering of the Blackbird.

‘The right engine throttle linkage was connected to the afterburner fuel control, and the left engine throttle linkage is connected to the main fuel control!

‘The aircraft throttle linkage was connected to the afterburner fuel control on the left engine and the main fuel control on the right engine (inboard side of the engines).

‘It absolutely did matter because of the two different functions.’

Olp adds more details; The two fuel controls were interconnected by a pulley and cable system in order to be fully synchronized. There was a pulley on each fuel control with a steel braided cable running underneath the engine, around more pulleys, so that, whatever position you set one fuel control at, the other one moved with it!

‘Afterburner fuel control on the right, main fuel control on the left. The aircraft throttles were connected to the threaded portion sticking out of the pulley shaft.’

So today when you visit an SR-71, walk up to the inlets and look for the “L” or the “R” and you will know a little story about why they are marked left and right.

~Linda Sheffield

@Habubrats71 via X

[sarandipitywrites]

NaNo update 11/29 (a big one!)

didn't write a whole lot today, because on one of my breaks i tripped and fell down a motionless in white youtube rabbithole (i regret nothing)

B U T.

i broke 50k words on The Art of Empty Space today! *streamers and fanfare* i still plan on writing/posting tomorrow (because why not?), but after that AES will be on pause for a little bit while i finish the second draft of Dead Roots, Dark Water and grapple with the Total Fucking Plot Overhaul that my brain sprung on me yesterday. so there probably will not be any updates to AES until… january? at the earliest? but updates there will be (because i'm actually really excited about this idea and think it will make AES sooooo much better)

so thanks for listening to me ramble; here's almost everything i wrote today as payment:

Lienzo tried to wait. He tried, but every moment of stillness scraped against his nerves like a whetstone, honed them to a razor's edge that ripped through skin and bone, leaving only tattered wounds behind.

He scurried through the chamber, plucking up all remnants of Baz's cooled rage — a splintered hunk of furniture, a gutted pillow — and piled them in the sitting area by the door. Baz could fix it. He'd fixed Lienzo's nose, his red coat, the hollow in his chest that told other people how to trust and be trusted.

Baz could fix anything.

Lienzo accosted Baz at the door, snatched the gauze and tweezers and ointment from his hands and ushered him into the bathroom to wash off the worst of the blood and the dust. As the water ran, Lienzo dragged a small table to the fireplace and set up their miniature clinic.

Baz had hurt himself over Lienzo then, too.

Even seated, he couldn't be still; his knee kept bouncing, his hands kept tugging at his braids until his scalp ached. When Baz took his seat across from Lienzo, he couldn't look up. He just grabbed blindly for the roll of gauze and Baz's hand. He had to fix what he'd done, only he couldn't fix it, because he'd—

Baz's hand twisted. Strong, black-tipped fingers intertwined with his.

The firelight flickered in Baz's eyes, dark and hypnotic. Beads of water glistened, trapped in the fine curls at his hairline. He pointed down at his letterboard, unrolled on the table between them. At one of the words lining the edge. "Stop."

"But... but I have to—"

Baz shook his head. He pointed at Lienzo. "G-u-i-l-t. Stop."

His teeth sank into his lip. Why? Why should he stop? He was guilty. If he had been calmer, if he'd been better prepared, if he could put aside his stupid, rotted pride for one godsforsaken moment, none of this would have happened. None of it.

"You. No. Control. Me." He gave a crooked smile, a single fang glinting in the firelight. He tapped his own temple, gestured at the fire. "Remember?"

"...And then you need to run into a blizzard to put it out." Because their bodies didn't always obey them. Because when Lienzo was overwhelmed, he flung his words like knives at everyone around him; when Baz was overwhelmed, the fire in his brain scorched him from the inside out.

Baz's grip on his hand loosened; he allowed Lienzo to turn his hand over, to start to wrap the gauze around his knuckles. "Sorry." He tapped the word three times, claw clacking on the table.

"If I'm not allowed to apologize, you're not, either."

A snort. Baz tapped at the bare skin of Lienzo's left wrist. "Mother."

Lienzo's hands froze. The bangle had belonged to Baz's mother? Or it was made from...? "How old were you?"

"Thirteen. Illness."

Lienzo should have wished her ashes safe return. Would have, had he not sold them for a couple bottles of medication. "Baz, I—"

"Stop. No sorry."

He swallowed around the dryness of his throat and nodded. He couldn't look Baz in the eye; he tied off the gauze instead.

"Maza. Sick?"

Lienzo huffed a laugh. It sounded hollow, even to him. "They're always sick. You'd think I'd be used to it, by now." But he wasn't. He never grew used to anything, no matter how hard he tried.

"Other parent?"

"Who knows where he is." He scowled and grabbed the tweezers from the table, began pulling the splinters from beneath Baz's nails. "We don't need him. Never have."

For a moment, Baz said nothing. He drummed his nails beside the letterboard, lip between his teeth. "Sorry," he finally said. "No believe you. Before. Angry. Sorry."

"Yeah. I noticed." On closer inspection, Baz's nails weren't claws like a cat or an ostrix had — they seemed to be part of his fingertips, hard and sharpened into blackened points. "But you don't need to be sorry. I don't think I would've believed me, either."

"Would have done same. If my mother."

Lienzo's throat closed. "You're not...?"

"Upset? Yes." He withdrew his hand, replaced it with the other. Lienzo began wrapping it in gauze. "But understand. Both." He took a corner of his cloak in hand, worried it between his fingers. The gauze was wrapped and tied before he returned to his letterboard. "Forgiven."

"...Thanks. I forgive you, too." This wouldn't happen again; they wouldn't let it. He would shield Baz from the whole world if he had to, if it would keep the fire in his brain from consuming him. Baz would do the same for him. He knew it.

He pulled the last splinter and set the tweezers down. Outside, the rain had slowed to a steady drizzle; sunset streaked through the window, sharpened by the prism of each droplet. Gravity pulled at his muslces, reminded him of the long ride. He rose from the chair, joints groaning. "I guess I should—"

"Stay." Baz looked up at him. His pupils eclipsed his irises into copper halos. "Please."

He shouldn't. He couldn't. Baz didn't mean— "Okay."

Lienzo cursed his tongue as he exchanged his road-worn clothes and binder for an oversized shirt pilfered from Baz's closet. He cursed it as he slipped between soft sheets, nestled into the mound of blankets. He cursed it until Baz's hand brushed his waist, lingered there in a question.

He grabbed Baz's arm and drew it over himself like a blanket.

His mind was quiet. For the first time since the blizzard, his mind was quiet.

AES taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @notwritinganyflufftoday

[fantisyoflove]

So You Wanna Play With Magic- part 11

Wc: 2,960

You turned half way to give Severus a pleading look. He scowled and rolled his eyes. He really was no better than a moody teenager at times.

He stood and sulked over to the door and you tried your best not to smile.

'Poor old man has to get out of his chair to answer his own door'. You felt bad because if you haven't taken down all the wards then he would know instantly who was there, but then again that's his own fault for not just dropping them for you or including you in them in the first place!

".... and like I said POTTER if someone wanted you to know they were here then they would have told you."

You jumped up and ran to the hallway to find Severus and Harry, wands drawn, glaring at one another.

Severus had only opened the door slightly and Harry was trying to shove his way through.

"Sev it's fine, you can let him in." Your voice is flat. Severus raises an eyebrow at you but moves his foot from behind the door as he steps back causing Harry, who was still using his full weight to push against the old splintering wood, to plunge forward onto the carpet.

Draco stood just behind the door stunned. He recovered quickly though and bent to help Harry up before sticking his hand out to Severus.

"Sorry to intrude, Severus. I tried telling Potter we could wait but he insisted." Severus took Malfoy's hand but only shook it once before dropping it.

"Since when have you and Potter been on such..." He glanced between the three of you individually before continuing "friendly terms?"

Harry, for all his bravery and bravado, found himself pink in the cheeks and not meeting anyone's eye.

Draco looked at you, then Harry, and finally Severus nervously.

Severus pivoted on the spot to stare at you. His gaze didn't faulter but your fortitude did.

Severus noticed the familiar tick in your face and closed his eyes for a brief moment to pray to whoever was listening to end him quickly.

"I'll make some tea." He finally bit out. "I'm sure miss y/l/n remembers how to recieve guests." He looked at you pointedly before moving to the kitchen and then added under his breath but you're sure everyone heard, "no matter how unwanted." His pronunciation of each symbol felt like a punch to the gut.

"You can come sit in here." You say stiffly and move back into the living room.

Sevrus would want his chair so you gesture to the love seat for them to sit and choose to stand near the fireplace. Harry sits and surveys the room. His career as an auror may have dwindled out, but the training sure stuck. He took in details around the room. The already in use tea tray with partly eaten plate of cake. The expansive bookcases along the walls. The slight scuff mark in the carpet that gave away the hidden doorway behind one of the bookcases. The pictures, though there were only four visible. One was of you and Severus. You looked about 13 or 14. You were smiling and nudging the Severus in the photo. He gave the camera a weak smile but then glanced down at you and smiled genuinely.

Draco chose to remain standing as well but stood near the love seat, his eyes never left you.

He took in every detail and watched you closely. You were still in your sleep clothes but you had braided your hair now. You also had a speck of chocolate on your cheek, probably from the cake still sitting on the coffee table.

There was a clattering of dishes and Severus came in with a new tray of tea for everyone, nobody touched it.

Severus looked between the three of you curiously and sat on the literal edge of his seat. His wand, though hidden in his sleeve, was at the ready incase any funny business happened.

The room was quiet excluding the soft crackle of the fire.

You refused to even look in Malfoys direction and continued to stare at the fire waiting for his yelling to continue.

"Well I guess I'll start then won't I? Severus? Severus Snape? Thats who you lived with? Who you still live with?" Harry snipped.

You turned to face him, "and now you see why I didn't want to bring it up!"

"Hang on. Don't use your anger with Malfoy to snap at me! You're the one who was keeping this from me. You never said! You never even hinted at the fact that SNAPE was raising you."

"I didn't think it mattered!" You said throwing your hands up in exasperation.

Harry lept up from his seat and took a step towards you. Draco subtly moved closer to Severus and the two exchanged a look.

"Didn't matter?! You listened to me complain about Snape and theorize how he was still an active death eater!"

You scowl and turn away.

"This is how you beat me in potions every year isn't it? Easy to get an outstanding when you're pratically related to the teacher!"

You rounded on him, eyes blazing, hand itching for your wand. "Seriously! You're going to complain about my potion skills! You think Severus would give ANYONE including me special treatment!?" You found yourself shouting at this point.

Harry smiled and pulled you by the front of your shirt against his chest. He kissed you deeply, all tongue and teeth, until you had to pull away to breath.

"I knew it!"

"Did not!"

"Alright, you win." He said teasing "But I had a feeling it was someone important."

"That's not fair, your muggles actually abused you! Severus was perfectly polite to me."

Severus had dropped his head into his hands to avoid watching the spectacle before him. Draco, who was watching you intently flinched when Harry grabbed your shirt. His wand was pointed at both of you, confused if he was supposed to jump in or let you work it out.

The tickle of fear in the back of your mind reminded you you weren't alone with Harry in this moment. You pushed on his chest until he let you go and took a step back.

"Sorry," you huffed, embarrassed.

"You know I think we need something stronger than tea." Severus said finally after lifting his head back up.  He banished the two trays and four glasses and a bottle of unmarked bottle of amber liquid floated into the room. You took your glass as it floated by and muttered a wandless detection spell over it before taking a sip.

Harry and Draco both downed their first glass before nursing the second.

You and Severus sipped your own glasses with no rush.

"Well it seems this whole situation calls for some kind of explanation y/n."

Severus had a tone that he used only when you were in trouble. It effectively made you feel very small and very dumb at the same time.

"I'm not sure if we can..." you began but a glare from Severus had you biting your tongue.

"I didn't end things with Harry." You admitted.

"I can see that." Severus said plainly.

Draco snorted and you and Harry turn to glare at him.

"Draco is the one who said we could remain together!" You snap.

"Tone," Severus warned.

You press your lips together in a fine line. Breathing in and out several times through your nose you try to find the strength to not scream.

"Draco agreed to let Harry stay in my life as long as we kept it secret." You said hoping your voice sounded as level as possible.

Severus leaned back slightly to look at Draco. Dracos jaw was tight and his nostrils flared.

"And telling people removes the secret part." He quipped.

"And whose fault is that? Besides Severus isn't going to tell anyone!" You sneer.

"Children," Severus warns. He looks between all of you again. "You still plan to marry Draco?"

You nod.

"Do you know if the effects of your, relations, with Potter will effect the bond or ritual?"

"From what I've read nothing, but Draco has... put his own restrictions on events to be sure."

It was Harry's turn to snort. He folded his arms and flopped back down on the love seat with his drink.

Severus was quiet for a very long time. You kept sneaking glances at Draco and Harry. Wondering what could have happened after you left that led them to coming here together.

Finally Draco spoke, "I'm sorry." He clasped his hands behind his back and moved closer to you.

"I apologize for our previous," he thought carefully of the correct noun to use. "Disagreement. And also for letting Potter come here. It is my mistake that our secret is known."

You were quite shocked at how genuine Draco sounded. Severus, however, had a calculating look on his face.

"How does this benefit you?" He stood abruptly causing Draco to take a step back from him.

"Pardon?" He sputtered, caught off guard.

"How does Potter's relationship benefit you at all? What does he provide for you?" Severus had a note about his words that insinuated more than what he was saying.

Draco jerked back like he had been struck. "Nothing, Potter doesn't mean anything to me. I mean..." He suddenly caught himself and took another step back so his back was to the doorway leading out and everyone in the room was in front of him. "He and I are friends, yes. But nothing more than that!"

Severus cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows shot up. "I see."

He looked between Harry and then Draco slowly drawing the conclusions in his mind.

"I'm sorry too" You blurted out, the tension in the room was suffocating. "I shouldn't have pried. If you want to keep some secrets to yourself I... I understand."

Draco nodded once and then tried to appear interested in looking around the room instead of at Severus's judging eyes.

You cocked a curious eyebrow at Severus. He returned your glance with something you've come to understand means 'we shall discuss it later'. Poor Harry looked the most confused but just shook his head and finished his drink before standing.

"Right then. Since everyone is sorry I say we go home."

"Together?" Severus asked innocently enough.

Draco blushed and turned slightly out the doorway to avoid Severus seeing.

Severus saw, of course, he could hardly miss it. Something was going on, he was sure of it.

"I think it's best if you didn't know all the details, uncle." You say as you pat his arm.

"Indeed." He gave everyone one more long hard look before turning fully to you.

"Until your next tantrum I assume?"

You smiled broadly and pulled him into your arms to hug him tight.

Severus didn't hug you back but patted you on the back twice before trying to lean away.

You didn't let go until you felt him relax and give you a quick hug back. The old bat was not use to any kind of affection and your spontaneous hugs always threw him for a loop. But in the end you knew he appreciated it and secretly loved your hugs.

You kissed his cheek once before letting go entirely and moved to follow the boys out.

Both Draco and Harry stood there dumbfounded. Never in either of their lives had they seen someone act warmly towards Snape and here you were treating him like proper family.

"You know, Sev, you can always just ask me over."

Severus scoffed.

"The owl flies both ways." You call as you walk out into the hall.

[]

The three of you entered the flat quietly. You went to the kitchen and put the kettle on. It was almost 8 o'clock and you hadn't had anything to eat since that morning.

You felt Draco's own hunger and assumed Harry might be too.

You decided to busy yourself by making sandwiches for everyone.

Harry and Draco stood awkwardly in the entryway.

Draco had caught Harry's hand and signaled for him to stay back a moment.

"How did you know it was Snape?"

"What do you mean?"

"I never said who it was, you just knew and you knew where to go."

"I only spoke out in favor of three people during those trials. It was pretty easy to figure out." Harry shrugged and then followed you to the kitchen.

Draco remained there for a moment trying to remember who else Harry could have spoken up for during the trials.

[]

You all ate in silence. Once done you cleaned up your own dishes and then excused yourself.

Upstairs you flopped down on the bed and groaned angerly into a pillow.

There was a soft knock on the doorframe and then a few hesitant foot steps into the room.

"I don't want to talk about it, Harry." You mumble from your position on the bed.

"It's Draco, actually. Harry's down stairs."

You chuckled, "are you making the same joke I did?"

"I figured it must be funny since you said it." He said. There was humor in his voice but he was also hesitant. He didn't know if you two were on joking terms again.

You pushed yourself up and sat on the edge of the bed, Draco sat down beside you.

You grabbed onto his hand and pulled it into your lap.

"I don't want to argue with you." You mumble under your breath.

He switched hands so he could put his arm around your shoulders and pull you closer to him. You leaned against his warmth and breathed in his soft autumn smell.

You had been trying to figure out what he smelled like this whole time and now it hit you. Apples, crackling fire, cinnamon. Autumn.

"Are you keeping Harry around because you don't actually want to be with me?" You half didn't want him to hear you say it outloud.

He pulled back slightly and then wrapped both his arms around you and pulled you in close.

"No!" He said firmly. "I dont want you to hate me."

You have to strain to hear the second part even though his mouth is so close to the shell of your ear.

"I don't hate you."

"You would if I made you never see him again."

You sucked in a breath.

"Exactly. I'm already forcing you to be married to me.... atleast with Harry around you will have someone to talk to and who knows you."

"You say that as if you won't be there to talk to or know me."

Draco kissed the top of your head and murmured into your hair. "You wouldn't pick me. I wouldn't pick me."

"Whenever we spend time together, I am choosing you. But you seem to hold yourself back. What are you afraid of?"

You turn so you can look at his face. He doesn't meet your eye.

"I'm afraid ...." He took a forced breath and slowly let it out. "I'm afraid you will see the real me. And what if the real me is a disappointment. Like always." He turned away and closed his eyes.

Cupping his cheek you turned his face back to you. His opened and they were misty. He blinked the tears back.

"You're not a disappointment, Draco." Your voice was quiet but fierce. Draco looked surprised by the force behind your words. You pulled him closer and kissed him.

He was too shocked at first to kiss you back. After a moments hesitation he was kissing you in earnest. He took control and maneuvered your body down onto the bed. Leaning over you he had complete control over the speed and intensity of the kisses.

You never wanted this moment to end. The back of your mind was a spiral of cathartic emotions.

Your hands moved all over his body trying to touch every inch of him you could.

He pressed his body closer to you and his thigh was resting between your legs. You let out a soft moan and began to rut against him.

He pulled back to look at you and you sheepishly tried to look away. Grabbing your chin he forced you to face him.

You thought he might be disgusted with you but the look on his face was pure lust.

He dove back down to kiss you again. He moved just right so you could grind against his thigh. You twitched against him and moaned again.

He groaned and bit down on your lip. You arched your leg slightly and found his length rock hard against your thigh now.

Together you found a rhythm that made your body sing. Every nerve was on fire. It had been so long since the last time with Harry.

In the back of your mind you wondered who else Draco had done something like this with since he seemed to know what to do. You pushed the thought away. It didn't matter and Draco would probably never tell you anyway.

You came with a shuttering gasp, gripping him tight, your back arched into him.

He stilled on top of you and pulled back to give you some air.

You tried to catch your breath. Your chest rising and falling slower and slower until your breathing evened out.

"Fuck" You gasped.

Draco huffed a laugh and rolled onto his back. He tucked his arm under your head and held you close.

You turned towards him and notice a large wet patch on the front of his trousers. You smile to yourself and tuck in closer to him.

[]

Downstairs Harry smiled to himself but cast a quick silencing charm.

[lewisyellowhelmet]

both our skin - lewis hamilton x reader

summary: morning sex. that’s it. no, really, that’s it. 

warnings: !!! 18+ pls. !!! dirty talk, unprotected sex, language, established relationship, coming inside, brief mention of breeding kink

there really is a scar above his eyebrow lmao but i of course don’t know where it came from. 

send me prompts if u wanna 🤗 

Your fingers track down the side of Lewis’ head, behind his ear, can almost see the dark ink underneath, B L E S S E D. He is. You are. The edge of his beard at his jaw, overdue for a trim so it curls over itself. Double gold hoops in his earlobe. Is he still asleep? Half of you wants to wake him, hear the rumble of his morning voice, get him to make the coffee just how you like it. The other half yearns to let him rest, to stand guard while he sleeps, protect him from all evil, listen to the way he murmurs through dreams.

 His eyes are closed, long dark lashes. Steady rise and fall of his chest. The covers pushed down around his waist, cream linen, so low on his hips it looks pornographic, exposing just the beginning of trimmed dark curls, the lean muscle of his belly, the angle of his hips, everything drawing to where you can just see the outline of him through the sheets.

 Your fingertips on Lewis’ chin, gentle, gentle, the plush of his mouth. He gives himself away, his awakened state, lips twitching in a suppressed smile. You’re amusing him in your exploration, your attempt at memorising how he feels, every part of him.

 “Good morning,” Lewis murmurs, his voice rough and low from recent sleep. His eyes stay closed, but he turns his head on the pillow in your direction, rustle of beard and braids and skin on the linen.  

 “Hi,” you say, a whisper, wriggling closer so the broadness of his shoulder pushes into your chest. Naked under the covers, legs tangled. He’s warm against you, soft skin, hard muscle. There’s a scar at his left eyebrow, a childhood karting crash. Your fingers skitter over it, the change in texture. The diamond in his nose winks in the morning sunlight. Lewis’ mouth is half open, steady breath.

 “Feels nice,” he says, while you trace the line of his nose, down to the middle of his collarbone, slowly. You can just see the flutter of his pulse point, black lettering over it. Under your palm, his heartbeat.

 “Wanna fuck you,” Lewis murmurs, puts his hands over yours where it lies on his chest, and it swallows yours, fingers curled up under his. When you look to his face, distracted by the sight of his big hand, his eyes have opened, all dark and sleepy.

 “Oh yeah?” You whisper, already breathless. He must feel your thighs squeeze together, because his mouth crooks into a smile.

 “Yeah.”

 “Tell me how much you want too.”

The rumble of a laugh, a big breath. Then Lewis is shifting, up onto one arm so he can lean over your body, movements still slow with sleep, the weight of him pressing you down into the mattress. You get one good look at him in the soft morning light, a braid falling over his face, creases on his cheek from the pillow, dark eyes that look like they want to eat you, before he’s dropping his head so his mouth is at your ear, warm breath, the barest brush of his lips.

 “Want you so bad, always do. Even if I’ve just had you. Could lie here all day with you and just stay inside you, see how many times I can make you come. With my mouth, with my hand, with my cock.”

 His words wash over you like a wave, tidal, pulling you under. The lowness of his voice, the way his fingers brush over your nipple, just gently, just a tease, a pinch when you don’t expect it. How he’s already hard, pressing into your hip. You must make a wanting sound, because Lewis laughs, pulling back to look at you, your cheek warm from the scratch of his beard.

 “You like it when I tell you naughty things, don’t you.”

It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

 “Yeah,” you breathe, one arm thrown loose around his neck. He’s been wearing a cross recently, and the metal is warm where it dangles to your breast. Lewis has got his hand between your legs, and you watch through heavy eyes as he smiles, a fond huff of a laugh when two fingers slide in easily, already wet and waiting for him. He’s slow about it, presses deep before he drags them all the way out, waits for your shaky breath before he fucks his fingers back into you.

 “Can’t wait to feel you, to be inside you,” he’s saying, and his accent always gets thick when you’re like this, all spread out and pliant under him, stomach tight already.

 “Please,” you whisper, pressure on his neck with your arm so he kisses you, lazy and open mouthed. His hand faster, harder, hits that really good spot so you arch up into him, moan in such a needy way you would be embarrassed if anyone but him heard. Just from his fingers, just from him knowing exactly how you like it, the pace, the pressure.

 “Gonna come,” you warn, into his mouth so who knows if he even hears, keeps his steady push and pull, thumb pressing into your clit. Kisses you through your orgasm, swallows up all your keening sounds, mumbles back to you, love making you come all over my hand, can feel how tight you’re getting, can’t wait to get my cock in you.

 You have to stop kissing him when you lose your breath, half pushing into his hand still and half pulling away, wanting more and it being too much all at once.

 “Gonna fuck you now,” Lewis growls, already pulling your knees up and open, settling between them, slipping one leg over his shoulder so you fall open for him.

 “Yeah,” is all you can really say, the last gasps of an orgasm still tingling, your face turned half into the pillow, wanting to look at him and not being able to bear it at the same time. Still, you can’t help but watch through hazy eyes as he holds himself, sat back on his heels, drags the head of his cock over you, collects your slick, makes you twitch when he just teases at your entrance, rubs himself there.

 “Look at you,” he croons, gaze moving from your face (flushed, open mouthed, sleepy eyes), and where he’s just pushing the tip of himself into you, agonisingly slow so your body opens and closes around him, wanting more, more, more. The blunt push, the way he holds open the crease of your thigh with one big hand so he can watch himself slide into you, teeth dug into his bottom lip.

 Lewis catches your gaze, smiles, all red mouth, white teeth, blown pupils, “You feel so fucking good, so tight, every time, fuck.”

 Your hands on his chest, nails dug in, jaw slack, can’t look away from his face as he pushes slow (slow, so slow) all the way into you, making room for himself, thick and hot and big, always so big.

 “Does that feel good?” He asks, like he doesn’t know the answer, wants to hear it for himself, the way you talk over yourself, words slurring as you try to tell him, yes, yes, more, please.

 Lewis rocks into you, once, twice, before he pulls all the way out, folds forward to lean on one arm, the weight of his body pushing him deeper, makes you cry out, makes his eyes close.

 “M’ not gonna last,” he’s saying, but you don’t care, can only hold his face in weak hands, everything so sensitive from your first orgasm, feel the strength of him with every thrust so it rocks your whole body, the whine of the bed springs. Your leg on his shoulder, the sheen of sweat on his chest, dangling chain on your breasts, the stretch of him inside you, the push and pull. The sounds he’s making, groans, half open eyes, watching your face, smack of your bodies meeting so perfectly.

 “Can I come in you,” Lewis asks, half into your hair, has got you all bent underneath him, fitting into his body, and you can’t think anymore, can’t do anything but feel him.

 “Yeah,” you pant, “Yeah, do it, please,” tight around him, pushing up to meet his hips, “Gonna come again.”

 “I know, fuck, I can feel it, it’s so good, always so good,” Lewis says, messy words, trying to kiss you at the same time. His jaw cradled in your fingers, holding loosely, groan of his name, whispering coming, coming, coming, feeling him lose rhythm, agree with you, push deep, again, again, bury himself, pulsing inside you, his mouth on your neck, the vibration of him moaning into your skin. He’s gonna leave a mark there, a hidden bruise where he told you he was coming, bit into you.

You come back into yourself slowly, gently. The weight of his body on you, the soft linen of the sheets, the sunlight on the ceiling. Lewis’ face in your shoulder, breath on your skin, touching your breast, just because he can, rolling your nipple between his fingers to watch it get hard again. You pet his hair, twirling braids, listening to him tell you about his breakfast plan. You’ll fall asleep again, probably, before he can get up to cook, soothed by his voice, his come dribbling out from between your legs. Maybe he’ll fuck it back into you. He’ll like that. Always gets off on that. You turn your head to kiss his forehead, feel him smile into your skin, reach down to touch him again.

[heresathreebee]

Kinktober Day 19 IMPACT PLAY

Takeshi Kovacs (Elias Ryker Sleeve) X Reader

Tags: +18 | 2k words | mentions of canon typical violence, mmm I'm sure theres some kind of fetish for fucking while sick, kinda dysphoria like?? Reader had a new sleeve, unprotected sex

AN: unedited need more Kovacs in my life

While you weren't overly fond of your last sleeve, you still hate the feeling of being stuffed in a new one. Plus you just had your face removed by some wack job merc so you have some hard feelings about that. 

You barely blinked when Louis told you about your new sleeve. 

"Look, things were not supposed to go that way," he said, "and I know I owe you a lot for  what you've done for me so far, sooo–" 

Louis gestured with open palms at you and said "tada!" as if you were supposed to know what he meant. 

He quickly realized his mistake and cleared his throat in embarrassment. "Your current sleeve– while most certainly not your birth sleeve– is actually very similar to it as a token of my sincerest apologies." 

You glanced sidelong at Louis' new associate– a stoic fellow wearing the face of a cop who once arrested you. He gave what may have been a sympathetic raised eyebrow and said the unsaid, "you can't look in a mirror yet but that is how I would describe it, sure." 

You flopped backward onto the edge of the bed and sighed. Louis probably had a picture of your birth sleeve since you've known each other for forever and you wonder why he showed it to this stranger. He's not a complete idiot– he knows this guy is dangerous, right? 

Like last envoy aka former terrorist dangerous. 

You examine your hands. They're the right color this time– pretty damn close from what you remember actually. Your hair was braided but the texture seemed familiar so far and Louis must have gotten the Envoy to pay extra to have your migraine implant installed as well. 

Who the fuck was this new guy with money like a Meth? 

"Whelp," Louis clapped his hands, "I have some research to do: can you stay and watch her while I'm gone? Thanks." 

"Not a babysitter– " but Louis was already gone. 

Silence fills the room as the two of you linger in your own little worlds. You link your fingers over your heart and ask, "so tell me the truth– is it anything like my birth sleeve?" 

Kovacs is silent for a while, but then you hear his footsteps approach before he appears above you. He turns his head left and right, examining your face before he answers. 

"Pretty damn close, yeah." 

It is so weird to see a familiar face with a different person behind it. "Gimme a mirror, would you?" 

Kovacs scratches his chin. "... look–" 

"There's a method to my madness," you offer. "Get me a mirror and… help me out a little." 

Kovacs raises an inquisitive eyebrow at you but acquiesces. He finds a handheld mirror in your bathroom and comes back to find you laid up proper in your futon bed staring at the ceiling. He sits down on an open spot beside your elbow and hands off the mirror. 

"Easy, tiger," he warns. 

You meet his eyes and take it with the reflective surface facing away from you. You touch your face– feeling over the bridge of your nose and the shape of your lips. There's so much you barely remember about your original face that the painful nausea in your gut doesn't intensify too sharply. 

Don't think Tak didn't notice your underwear laying at the end of the bed. He wonders for a second if you're just more comfortable without them, but his intuition tells him it's more deliberate than that. An invitation perhaps. 

You frown deeply, flipping the mirror to examine your collarbone. Louis dressed you in whatever he could find– you're sure he had his own sentimental reasons for picking your old sundress and heart shaped locket necklace. Maybe you were wearing it in the picture he had of you. 

You tilt the mirror a tiny bit and feel a little vertigo. It's just your chin, part of your bottom lip and your ears at this angle. All familiar things you've always had. You change the angle and loom fully at your lips and nose. You poke and prod thinking maybe your lips are a slightly different color but the bow and curve is similar enough. 

Your nose is fine, you suppose. 

Your hands are shaking as you maneuver the mirror around your eyes carefully to examine your hairline. Definitely not the same but it is cute! It's here you put the mirror down and try to take deep breaths to keep yourself from vomiting. 

"You ok?," Kovacs asks, "you can stop for now. Get some rest… try again later." 

You shake your head and it makes you dizzy. "No… No, I can do this." 

You set the mirror aside and close your eyes. There is a retractive mirror in your ceiling and you use voice command to pull it up. You know it shows you the whole bed and you've used it before but never for this specific reason. 

In order to adjust to your sleeve, you need reassurance that you are still, in fact, you. 

It's now that you take a real risk and brush your leg over Takeshi's back. "About that other thing I need you to do…" 

Takeshi's calloused hand catches your calf and lifts your leg higher until it's over his head and he pulls it down into his lap. Already in step with your thoughts and very quickly between your legs. You like eager-to-please partners. 

"Come here." 

Takeshi repositions himself so he's leaning over you on his hands and knees. You have to bury your head in the pillow briefly as you catch a glimpse of your new face in the mirror behind him. When the stabbing nausea abates, you wrap your legs around his hips and draw him closer. 

"You know you are pretty," Takeshi purrs into your ear before nipping the diamond earring stud. 

Takeshi plants a string of kisses down to your bust and sucks a clothed nipple into his mouth. You gasp and rock your hips asking him for more. You've got your eyes screwed shut hoping you won't pass out from sleeve sickness. 

The man continues his trail of kisses down to your navel as he pulls the skirt of your dress up. His tongue dips in and it's so hot it feels like fire. You readjust your legs to sit atop his shoulders and nudge him lower, biting your lip playfully. 

Takeshi sucks marks into your inner thigh, touching everywhere except where you need him the most. He's keen to take things slow it seems, which doesn't displease you but isn't quite what you need right now. 

You stare at your reflection and almost wretch. Your thighs lock around Tak's head as you roll to your side over the edge of the bed, struggling to regain control of your spasms. Tak waits patiently for you to relax again, stroking your outer thigh until you unlock your legs from around his neck. 

"Sorry, sorry." You're out of breath and panting, "keep going." 

It's his sleeve– he's wearing that fucking asshole cop's face. You know yourself– your weakness for people who are probably bad for you. The sleeve is that of a sworn enemy and the man wearing it is a stranger. 

Kovacs buries his face between your thighs and swipes his tongue over everything. You grab his hair and shove his nose into your clit, begging with your words too. 

"Please, fuck, need you inside me…" 

You almost don't let him pull away. Tak sits back on his haunches to unbutton his shirt. The whole time he watches your chest heave and he swallows as he watches you finger yourself. 

You're two fingers deep and trying to stretch when Tak takes his member out from the confines of his pants– he hears you gasp as you look at the curved and veiny thing between his legs. 

"Jesus…" 

Tak laughed. "Had a change of heart?" 

You glare at him for a moment before spreading your legs further. "Nope, I'm all yours. Don't be gentle because I won't be with you." 

Something dark flashed in his eyes. Damn, if you knew officer Ryker was packing the night he arrested you, you might have got off with a slap on the 'wrist'… 

Tak grabs your ankle and drags you down the bed. He dips his long fingers into your heat and uses it to lube his cock. There isn't much time to think before he's sliding that almost coke can thick beast into you. 

"Fuck!" You lock your ankles in the dip of his back and pray it doesn't kill you. The stretch burns and then he bottoms out inside you and lets a few curses of his own fly. It takes a moment to relax around the intrusion, he's thicker than most people you've had and you're in a new body. 

You lock eyes with yourself in the overhanging mirror. This is your new face, a lot like your old mug and it's certainly not a clone but if you saw this sleeve in the street, you would probably do a double take. 

Tak presses his nose into your cheek. "Ready?" 

You answer by squeezing his ass. A pert, round white thing that contrasts like fire and ice against the black fabric of his pants. Tak starts to rock his hips to make sure you're not in pain at first, then he repositions his legs to actually thrust inside of you. 

The first time in a new sleeve always feels like heaven– there's no high quite like it. 

"Feel good," the envoy moans in your ear, "look good, too." 

The nausea that dominated you from before is losing as you gain control of yourself. You watch the mirror as Tak pushes the neckline of your dress aside to expose a breast and kneads it with his hand. You keen, wrapping an arm around his neck and angling your hips for more friction. 

Tak keeps his thrusts short and fast, his pubic bone stimulates your clit and you think you might come just from that. Your sickness comes back with a vengeance and Tak hisses as your pussy strangles his cock. You put your hands on his chest to push him away for a second– you need space as you become suddenly feverish and a wet burp signals another close call. 

Tak sits up and tries to give you space by hovering over you on his hands. His head blocks your view of the mirror and he looks concerned. You know you need more… 

Maybe you should have warned him because he was not prepared to receive a slap to the face. You see the shock register in his features before it settles into something dark. 

"What–" 

You slapped him again and he pressed you down into the cheap mattress. Master of every body he's ever been in and trained by Quellcrest Falconer herself… you know he only allowed you to do it. 

Because he liked it. 

Tak pins your wrist down and goads you on. His other hand hooks around your thigh to let him pound a little deeper into you, breath picking up and eyes like a predator. You slap him again, this time his cheek turns pink and you can almost make out the impression of your fingers near his ear. 

Tak switches the hand he is restraining and his thrusts become rougher. He has of course freed your other hand, goading you to hit him again. You make sure his cheek matches the other in color and he groans. 

Every thrust becomes harder and harder, forcing the breath from your lungs and your moans rise higher and higher. 

"Oh fuck, Kovacs!" 

You wrap your arms around his neck and drag him down, hugging him to your chest so you can look in the mirror as you come. Your pleasure washes over your sickness and you come screaming. 

Your head is spinning, but the nausea from before is completely gone. This is your face now. You don't remember your partner coming but he's stopped thrusting and is simply resting lightly on top of you. 

Tak lifts his head with a smug look. "Feel better?" 

"I do," you cuff him over the ear and let him sit up. "Louie can fuck off with that dangerous underhanded job shit, but you are more than welcome to fuck me like that anytime you're in the area." 

Tak chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind." 

[tommysparker]

Never Forget You [Chapter 1]

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Jedi!Reader

A/N: here’s the first official chapter! thank you so much for the support this series as already gotten. chapters will be posted every Saturday! enjoy :)

Warnings: angst. fluffy flashbacks. this isn’t even the worst of it mwhaha. paragraphed italics = flashback

                                            [10 YEARS LATER] 

The sky was as blue as his eyes. Not as dark and cloudy, but gave the same feeling of hope, peacefulness, and comfort. You could picture them vividly in your mind, even the small crinkle at the edges and the kindness they held, a warmness that matched your current aurora.  

The two of you sat in the gardens for what felt like hours, deep in meditation. Your force signatures quickly became entangled with one another, your bond radiating around you, creating almost a shield bubble between the rest of the world and the two who sat inside. 

Obi-Wan was the first to open his eyes, having never been one to sit still for long periods of time. He’s improved since he was a youngling, but still had a long way to go. 

You, on the other hand, looked completely invested in your meditation. Your face was relaxed, although every now and then your eyebrows would furrow as you tried to maintain concentration. It was hard when a certain other was very distracting, even if he wasn’t aware of it. 

“I can feel you staring,” you said, eyes still closed. Obi-Wan was thankful for that fact because it means you wouldn’t see him blush in embarrassment from getting caught. 

“I can feel you blushing, too.” This time, you opened your eyes and smiled. “I knew you wouldn’t last long.” Anytime the two of you tried to meditate together, it would always end with Obi-Wan getting bored and asking to duel instead. 

He quickly hid his face, pulling the hood of his robe over his head. “I’m not blushing, that’s childish.” 

You giggled, leaning forward to lift the front of his hood. “Obi-Wan, you are the most childish person I know.” 

The young man was about to protest before you hushed, eyes already closed once more as you returned to your deep state of awareness. 

You opened your eyes and sighed, long and deep. 

Standing up from the cold floor of your room, you looked out the window and gazed at the cloudy sky of Gyfill. The air felt chilly from the lack of life-forms in the area. After your first week on the planet, you decided it was a safer idea to seek shelter away from town. Considering your mission was to spy on the local Separatist groups, keeping a low profile was essential. 

Today was different, however. The same cold and dull atmosphere were present, but the future is what held the divergent. For today, was the day you were finally to return home. 

Home. The word itself felt familiar but distant. As a Jedi, you trained to hold little sentimental value. Attachments were forbidden, a path to the dark side. They provoked fear. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering. 

Once your bag of belongings was packed, you made your way to the marked location someone from the Jedi council sent earlier that morning. Mentally, you were not prepared to see everyone again. After being isolated for years and having limited contact with any life form outside of business, the many faces from your time at the Temple became slightly blurry. Except for his. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi was on his way to the Archives when he bumped into Ahsoka Tano. 

“Oh, Master Kenobi! Perfect, I was about to go look for you.” 

“Ahsoka,” he smiled. “What can I do for you?” 

“Who’s Y/n Y/l/n?” 

Obi-Wan froze. The sound of that name echoed in his mind, paired with memories that he had locked away in the back of his mind. “Well...that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time,” was all he could manage to say, still trying to process all the past recollections that suddenly surfaced. 

“So, you know them?” 

“Uh, yes I suppose so. We were...close as younglings and trained together as Padawans. They were...the most skilled Jedi I ever had the pleasure of knowing, almost as good as Master Yoda.” 

“If they’re so great, how come I never heard of them before?” Ahsoka tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, resting a hand on her hip in classic ‘Ashoka manner’, 

“They were sent away on an important mission years ago as far as I know. Er, why do you ask? And how did you come to know of that name?” 

“Oh right. Anakin said the Chancellor told him that Master Y/l/n was returning today. He told me to ask you about it.” 

Once again, Obi-Wan’s world paused. 

He stood across from you, trying to maintain a neutral expression as he watched you load your bags onto the ship. However, you knew him better than that. 

You walked up to the young boy and he took in your appearance. Gone was the braid that draped over your shoulder. Gone were the long robes you liked to hide in, in their place was a heavy jacket that looked like it was built to keep out the cold. Perhaps you were going to Hoth? 

“Obi, you know I can’t tell you where I’m going. Master Windu was strict about his instructions,” You sighed, sensing your friend trying to deduce as much as he could. Your Master was very clear when he told you how classified the mission was. No one can know, especially Obi-Wan. 

“Can you at least say how long you’ll be gone?” He practically begged, wanting something, anything he could get to keep his hope alive. Hope that you'll return soon. Hope that you weren’t truly leaving him. 

You looked away, staring at the towers and passing hover-vehicles that littered the planet you’ve grown up on. “I don’t know.” 

Everything had happened so suddenly. You were called into the council room that day to hear the news every Padawan dreams of. When Master Windu said you were ready for the trials, the first thing you went to do was tell Obi-Wan. The two of you celebrated that night in the gardens, a moment you would treasure for the rest of your life. Soon after you gained the title of Jedi Knight, you were once again called into the Jedi Council room to be debriefed on your first mission as a proper Jedi. You didn’t want to mess this up. You couldn’t. 

Obi-Wan resists the urge to pull you into a hug and never let you go, instead opting to hold your shoulders and give you his signature charming smile. “Be safe, darling.” 

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You held his wrist, bringing his knuckles to your lips and pressed a hesitant kiss to them before pushing them to his side. “May the force be with you.” 

There was no pet name at the end, no ‘my friend’ or even his own name. It was a sentence that was meant to bring comfort, but the way you phrased it, the edge in your voice, made Obi-Wan feel everything but comforted. 

He didn’t get the luxury of responding, for all he did was blink and suddenly you were on the ship, taking off into the clear blue sky. 

You gazed at the clouds passing by as the ship flew into Coruscant’s atmosphere. The bright light and sunny day was a harsh change from the grey sky that fell over Gyfill. The energy emitting off of all the life-forms gave you a headache. You felt the Force all around you, swirling in the air and penetrating your soul. It was like a breath of fresh air after drowning for over a decade. 

You flinched at the light as the door opened, suddenly feeling like a hermit crawling out of its shell. Slowly walking out of the ship, you pulled the cloak hood over your head, inhaling the strange but familiar scent of the Jedi Temple. You were still wearing your Gyfill civilian attire, the wool fabric made the Coruscant heat much more intense causing a few beads of sweat to form on your forehead. Or was it just the nerves of seeing all the people you left behind? 

Master Windu stood at the end of the drop door, a smile on his face at the sight of his former Padawan. It was an occasion that called for a little joy, a moment to celebrate outside the war that raged through the galaxy. 

You descended down the ramp, taking in a sharp breath at the feeling of another force sensitive. “Master Windu”. You bowed your head and he did the same to you. 

“Master Y/l/n, it’s great to see you in person rather than as a hologram.” 

You both chuckled lightly. “The feeling is mutual, Master. It’s...it’s good to be back.” Your eyes wandered over the people that roamed about. Jedi Masters walked with their Padawans at their side. Distant memories resonated within you. Some time ago that was once you and your Master, the man who stands before you know who has grown significantly older. Then again, so have I, you thought to yourself. 

Unbeknownst to you, you weren’t the only one registering your growth. Obi-Wan stood behind a pillar, glancing over the hanger in search of a familiar face. He was aware it would not be the same face he knew as a young boy, but he certainly was not prepared for what he saw. 

You look older, which was the obvious and expected observation. He noted how you wrapped yourself in your cloak, similar to how you would in your youth. You stood tall in front of Master Windu, another trait you had kept since your days as a Padawan. He remembered how you would always act mature in the presence of Masters, something he never really understood until becoming a Jedi Knight. The need for approval by the superiors was a constant.

It wasn’t just your appearance that had changed either. He could feel it in the Force. There was a shift in it when you had landed that made an excited yet nervous chill run down his spine. You were stronger and held more control in your signature. 

Before, he remembers being able to feel it from across the Temple. Now, it was barely there. He remembers feeling your bond drift farther as he watched you leave, and how it had dimmed over the years you were gone. He remembers the pain that tortured him every night as he laid awake in bed, trying to reach out across the stars but only being met with the vast emptiness of space. There was something in him that broke the first time he slept without having a tendril of your force signature connected with his. He felt cold, resorting to sleeping in his Master’s quarters in an attempt to ease the loneliness. 

Overall, it would appear that nothing about you had changed, and yet it seemed everything was different. Almost everything. 

His eyes were just as blue as the last time you saw them. They looked tired, haunted by the ongoing war but still filled with determination. Classic Obi-Wan. 

You quickly broke eye contact the moment it was made, but that one second was more than enough for Obi-Wan to get lost in the familiar colour. His favourite colour in fact, not that he would ever admit you had any part in the decision. 

“Master Obi-Wan?” 

He jumped at the sound of a voice and suddenly became aware of the presence right next to him, that presence belonging to none other than Master Yoda. 

“Master Yoda! I er I was just...uh...looking...for Anakin! Yes, uh have you seen him around by any chance?” Obi-Wan quickly tried to cover his stutter, feeling embarrassed about getting caught gazing from afar. Not that Master Yoda would know he was looking at you...right?

“I see,” the little green creature smirked in amusement. “Whatever it is, wait it can. Council meeting about to begin there is.” 

Obi-Wan furrowed his eyes. Typically he was able to keep a good track of the meetings, but this was news to him. “What’s it about?” 

“Master Y/l/n.”  

“Hmm?” You hummed absentmindedly.  

“Are you listening?” Master Windu raised an eyebrow.

“Oh uh, my apologies Master. I’m just...readjusting.” You tried to focus your attention on what Master Windu was saying, but the recognition of his presence made it difficult. For years, you tried to forget about him. You ignored the empty feeling in your stomach at night, the thoughts and memories that plagued your dreams. After some time, they eventually began to fade but never forgotten. It was for the best. 

Master Windu crossed his arms. “There will be plenty of time for that after your debrief of the mission. Master Yoda and the rest of the council await.”

Oh, Force, not the council. 

You would never dare to admit or even show it, but the council and being in the council room had always intimidated you. How could it not? You had to stand in the center of all the best Jedi of that era while they stare at you, judging you, sitting high and mighty in those stupid chairs.  

“This way, my old Padawan.” 

You followed Master Windu through the large halls of the Jedi Temple. You masked the nervousness that was no doubt radiating from your force signature. A multitude of thoughts ran through your mind, good and bad. Worst case scenario, you had done something so wrong that you were about to be kicked out of the Jedi Order. Nothing came to mind when you tried to think of any offence you had committed in the recent weeks since you earned the title of Jedi Knight. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of the large council room doors opening, the creaking of the hinges made you cringe slightly.  

The room was ominously lit, the only light source being the setting sun shining through the glass windowed walls. Master Yoda sat in his seat. All the other chairs were empty. 

Master Windu took his seat as you stood before the two of them. He could see the questions rise from your confused facial expression. “Everything we discuss in this room stays between us, young Jedi.” 

You nodded, inhaling and exhaling slowly in an attempt to calm yourself. “Master Windu, Master Yoda. What is this about? Have I done something wrong?” 

The two men looked at each other and shared an unreadable expression before turning back to you. Master Yoda was the first to speak. “Sending you on a mission we are. To Gyfill you will go.” 

Whatever anxieties that you held before were washed away with this information. You contain your excitement, but the sudden mood shift was still noticeable. “Who am I going with? When do we leave? What’s the mission for?” It was rare that a Jedi would be sent on a mission alone, typically you were partnered up for safety measures. Obi-Wan’s face flashed in your mind, and although it was unlikely, a small part of you hoped he would be going with you. 

“This mission only requires one Jedi. There’s a Separaist organization on the planet and we’re sending you to gain intel and report back to us. No one outside of this room can be aware of this information. You leave within the week. Understood?” 

You frowned, “Forgive me Master, but why can’t anyone know?” The idea of having to leave your home seemingly without a trace made you iffy. Obi-Wan once again appeared in your mind. 

Master Windu and Yoda exchanged a look before Windu responded almost hesitantly. “We have reason to believe someone in the Order is a traitor, and the number of people who are trustworthy is very limited.” 

“You mean someone has betrayed us?” You asked in shock. How could anyone do such a thing? And a Jedi nonetheless. 

“Time to answer your questions, there will be, young one. Prepare for your first mission now, you must.” Master Yoda said. “Prepare to say goodbye you should.” 

It was as IF he could read your mind, which he probably could. You dreaded the idea of saying goodbye, especially when it was clear that there was no guarantee of your return date. How would you explain to your friends that you won’t be around anymore? What will Obi-Wan think? 

“That is another subject that needs to be discussed.” 

————————————————————————————

what else needs to be discussed? who’s the traitor? how will obi-wan and y/n get on after all this time? lemme know what you think!!

taglist: @queenariesofnarnia @dwarfplanet69 @katsukink @blondekel77 @generousrunawaydonut @fandomtrashwhore @fortheloveofaqueenfan @mrskenobi19 @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @hotleaf-juice

[tokoyamisstuff]

Tender Ch. 2 - Loki x Mute! Reader

Summary: Winning the favour of the God of Mischief is not an easy task - even if he has already fallen for you.

Warnings: None.

Words: ~1600

A/N: Since I am writing several Series at once, together with Oneshots in between, the chapters are gonna be a bit shorter so I keep no one waiting. Hope that is alright!

[Story Masterlist] [All of my Works]

Taglist: @austynparksandpizza​ @queenariesofnarnia​​ @commonintrest​​ @buckylokisimp​ @just-someone-who-likes-to-write @lxdyred @frostay​​​​

The first weeks after your arrival at the Avengers Compound passed by rather uneventful.

Due to the fact that you neither had a family you could be attached to, nor many belongings ever since HYDRA had kidnapped you and destroyed your home, Tony insisted on you living at the tower - like many of the other members as well.

Everything was just so new and exciting, not even Loki’s gleeful mockery could bring you down from that high.

Little did you know that all of his pep talks about those ‘inferior heros’, the ‘illusion of power’ or how no one was ever truly good or evil had a completely different reason:

An attempt to get you to leave, for your own good. After everything that had happened to you, the god was worried how another fight would affect you.

Anyway, it was a luxurious life compared to your old one, with so many kind persons and new perspectives. And you were sure to return that favor once you’d learn to control your powers!

So until then, you would train as hard as possible and care for your new friends through little acts of service. Caring for others came quite natural to you, may it be listening to their problems or simply complimenting them to see their faces brighten up.

And for some reason, that particular character trait was the one thing Loki found the most annoying.

How could a person so naive and pure think they could actually join in battles against evil? You’ll only end up getting yourself killed - and to be honest, Loki thought this to be a waste.

And even though he’d never admit it, but jealousy was starting to get the better of him the more he observed you getting along with everyone.

They adored you - and they were very right in doing so!

But that would mean that you were just nice to everyone, not especially to him, right?

Every time you’d help Bucky through a panic attack, braided Thor’s hair or helped Banner in the laboratory, Loki only wished you’d be with him instead - and if he had to burn this whole place to the ground for this to happen.

Yet his pride kept him from voicing that desire.

For you on the other hand, it was frustratingly hard to get through to the God of Mischief. In comparison to how he treated the other Avengers, he was always reserved and courteous towards you, yet also unreachable distanced.

Only on a weekend where the other Avengers were on a mission, the two of you found a way to actually bond with each other, if only a little.

Loki had once again read every book he borrowed from Stark’s library, now having a reason to leave his room again. At least those subhumans won’t be there to drain on his nerves...

When he crossed the living room on his way to the elevator, he blinked heavily as he saw you plainly chilling on the sofa. He was just about to turn around and leave, when you hectically gestured for him to stay.

“Hey, Loki! 😊” you wrote on a notepad, holding it up for him to read.

“Greetings...” he spoke between gritted teeth, but your smile wouldn’t falter, so he stood rooted in the middle of the room.

“Do you want to watch a movie together?” How blunt could you be to ask a literal god directly, just like that?!

“Actually, I-” When your eyes met, Loki cut himself off, the words being caught in his throat. “Well, if you’re in dire need of my sublime company...”

You were quick to sit up straight, offering a bowl with popcorn to the Odinson which he curiously accepted. When he answered your question about what sweets they eat on Asgard, he wouldn’t understand why you’d laugh. Apparently ‘nuts and grapes’ are not considered treats on earth. Got it.

Yet that little huff you blew out of your nose instead of making an actual laughing sound came somewhat endearing to him, especially in contrast to your other noisy companions. “Adorable...”

Without even asking first, you’d wrap the other half of the blanket around Loki, effectively closing the gap between you two.

“Wha- I’m not cold!” he blurted out, visibly overchallenged by the sudden closeness. “I’m a Jotun, hel!”

What was he even so worked up about? Geeze...

“But the weather on Asgard is rather humid, right?” you wrote down, with him nodding approvingly. "It allows all kinds of flowers to blossom, other than this metal brick” he explained, your excited look not failing to keep him talking. “You should see it some time.”

Loki’s eyes were now locked on the screen, and you could basically grasp his homesicknes, very well aware that a failure and war criminal like him would never be tolerated in those holy grounds ever again.

Great...now you had achieved the exact opposite of what you wanted.

You tugged on his arm so he’d shift your attention to you again, quickly writing something with a barely there sulk on your face:

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you sad.”

Tears were already forming on the rim of your eyes, making Loki’s insides churn. “So sensitive...gods. Keep yourself together, would you.”

The Odinson instinctively wrapped an arm around you, his free hand petting your head as he pulled it to his chest. He was awfully warm for a frost giant, and his heart was hammering against his chest in a fastened pace - maybe just your imagination, though.

“Well, it’s winter...” he uttered, acting as if he actually cared about the plot of the movie. “I may not freeze, but you seemed cold. That’s all.”

You let your hand run across his collarbone, making him look down to you once again. He bit his lip as his icy glare met your warm one, eyes shimmering with earnest affection while you formed silent words with your lips:

“T-h-a-n-k y-o-u.”

“N-no need to thank me.” Just now Loki wondered what kind of spell you were using on him, being reduced to a shaking and stuttering mess.

No curse, no beauty ever before had bewitched him so much that he would lose his cool, let anyone peek under his confident mask, after all.

Not so long ago, when he was still considered the handsome Prince of Asgard, he would bed a different lover on each night, though never settling for anyone.

And after the revelation of his true heritage, even those fleeting encounters to ease his loneliness would falter - all that’s left was certainty that the theory he had ever since his childhood had proven to be true: 

That everyone had always secretly despised him, the failure of the family and disgrace to all of Asgard. Only through his Jotun blood they had found a reason to not play along with the royal courtesy anymore, showing their resentment up in the open.

But you...you looked at him with completely different eyes than anyone ever did.

Maybe he had become softer, weaker over time - or simply more mature. His mother once told him to seize the moment when someone truly special would cross his way, and to never let them go.

“We could do this more often.” You shoved the notepad in his line of sight, and just now he noticed that two hours had sure passed in an incredible speed.

Just the two of you, cuddled up on the sofa, enjoying each other’s presence instead of dealing with the troublesome past.

“Well...” Loki clawed into your upper arm softly, no intention of letting you out of his grasp already. “I am sure your other companions are more fun to be around. As you most likely already noticed, I am known for ruining the mood.”

Loki had a habit of talking ill about himself, and letting himself down as well. Yet as he saw you eagerly scribble on the notepad, he knit his brows together, impatient to what you’d say next.

“But I want to see you.” The word ‘you’ was written in a thicker font, underlined several times.

“Why?”, that was the first and only thing crossing his mind. And yet there you sat, shoving the notepad into his face with a stern look on your face.

Loki was rooted on spot as you put the notepad on the table, instead laying your hands on his cheeks and softly tugging on the edge of his lips. “S-m-i-l-e!”

“E-enough!” he carefully pushed your hands away, afraid you’d detect the mild blush on his face. “Then it shall be. What did you have in mind?”

“Whatever you want.”

Loki finally arrived at the library to return his books, even though with a few hours delay. Realizing just how much he had enjoyed that spontaneous meeting with you, he began to panic.

Was it really a good idea to repeat this?

He was almost 100% certain that it would only end in him ruining your trust in anyone completely, if he’d ever allow you to come close to his core.

Due to him having saved you back then, you probably see him as something better than he actually was - and gods, how disappointed you’ll be once you’d find out what he really is like...

It was probably for the best if this would never happen, with him just keeping on to admire you from afar...

After a while of just staring into the void, mentally debating about your offer, he couldn’t help the fact that he was already looking forwards to meeting you again.

Uncertain how to approach the matter, Loki was at least eager to show you his goodwill.

For you have been the first person who - despite everything he had done - was willing to give him another chance.

"Greetings. I need every available book about sign language.”

[wiypt-writes]

Rock ‘n’ Roll People In A Disco World

Part 1- Disco Down

Intro: It's range day. SWAT vs LAPD Special Crimes branch. You and your finance decide to have a bit of fun with the interdepartmental competition.

Pairing: Paul Diskant x Reader

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: So yeah, I started another series. Bad WIYBUPT. But there aint enough Disco out there so I thought I’d rectify that situation. This is also another entry for @imanuglywombat​ ‘s  “Is That Even A Sex Position” weekly challenge. This position is called “Juicy Ass”. See here for more information.

Rock ‘n’ Roll People Masterlist // Main Masterlist

It was early in the morning, the first warm rays of the LA sunshine had barely begun warming the pavement when the two of you had started your day. Paul was already pouring you both coffee to go as you met him in the kitchen, dressed in your Swat training tee, utility pants and standard issue uniform boots, hair French braided back. You smirked at the dapper young detective before you, slacks, dress shoes, button down and tie. 

It'd been a gruelling last few weeks for you both. You were working a SWAT case with your unit and Paul was busy working an LAPD Vice officer's homicide. He would trudge in late at night, either from the precinct or more recently from a night out with Vice following some leads. You were always already asleep and he didn't want to wake you. He'd kiss you softly, shower, kiss you again and crawl into bed, hugging you close.

Now, you were both getting ready to head out, finally having slept in the same bed together for the first time in weeks. Given your nature, the two of you were playfully squabbling over the upcoming late afternoon's task, a joint fire arms training session between your unit, LAPD SWAT and Paul's unit. The joint time spent at the range always turned into pool of who'd win and, usually, was too close to call rounding off with each team going head to head in a final duel. 

And things were getting competitive in the Diskant home. 

"If I can make it," Paul grumbled, "we should sweeten the deal."

"You'll make it.” You popped a shoulder. “Paul Diskant doesn't miss a day at the range, nor friendly competition. So, name your terms?" You smirked mischievously over the rim of your mug, watching him adjust his tie. 

"Winner gets a favor." Paul devilishly replied. 

"What kind of favor?" You played along and the look on his face already made your insides squirm as he raised a brow and curled his lips further in his smirk. "Paul!"

"Y/N!" Paul mimicked, cutting the distance between you, big hands on your hips, thumbs rubbing along your shirt. "Baby, it's been days. This Vice case has me pulled away longer than I have been since I was a beat cop."

You rolled your eyes and wrapped your arm around his shoulder, fingers grazing the point where the short hairs of his buzz-cut met his neck. 

“Fine." You kissed him deeply, the taste of coffee on both your tongues but something that was just him too. "We'll call it a bonus." “Bonus...” he nodded. “I can run with that.”

“You couldn’t run a fucking bath, Disco.” "Oh Sweetheart, you're on." The challenge in his voice and mischief in his eyes lit a fire under you. You kissed him again and moved away, a swift smack from his hand to your ass made you yip but you kept walking. 

****

The drive into the station was quiet, you reading over your training schedule for the day and Paul driving. The only sound that filled the vehicle was the sound of him humming along to the radio, thumb tapping along to the beat of the song on his steering wheel, before you heard him let out a loud sigh.  

"I have some stuff to chase down this morning but if nothing pans out, I should be at the range with the rest of my unit."

"Well, then I'll hope it doesn't pan out, just so I can kick your ass with my Glock," you chuckled as he let out a groan.

"Baby, you know, watching you handle that Glock and riffle makes me horny as fuck right? Nothing like a woman that can shoot," Paul admitted. He took your left hand away from the file and pressed his lips to the top of it. He knew why you did it, but he still hated not seeing your diamond flashing on your finger all day. 

"Oh yeah?" You turned your standard issued sunglass covered eyes to him, "is that why you wanted to marry me?" 

Paul chortled, “one reason among the many."

He pulled into the carport and parked in his designated spot. You exited the vehicle and gathered your bag from the popped trunk. 

"See you at the range, don't be late, or I'll have to listen to Rodriguez bitch as she drives me home." You gave him a teasing kiss and slung your bag over your shoulder, walking away. 

"Hey, Y/N?" He called after you. You stopped and turned around to look at him, lifting your sunglasses to the top of your head. "Don’t waste too much energy today, huh? You’re gonna need all the strength you have tonight, Baby."

You chuckled to yourself, "Just show up, we'll talk energy later," you rolled your eyes and walked off, flipping him the bird over your shoulder. 

The scorching sun boiled across the training facility tucked between the hills of the valley, away from the hustle of the city and just far enough out of reach for civilians. Abandoned buildings and, green fields and a simulated neighborhood made up the grand, multi-million dollar facility. You and your team had been at it all morning, moving through the buildings in full tactical gear and safety equipment. Together you cleared buildings, fired upon fake assailants and suspects. You and your partner, Alma Rodriguez, even hit the weights and boxing bags to keep loose after a hand to hand session against Everett and Evans. To keep your trigger fingers hot and ready, you played a round of long range sniper poker, you of course beating the team with a straight flush, bullets hitting their targets dead center. 

It was the last hours of daylight by the time Special Branch showed up and you couldn't help but smirk as you watched Paul set up his gear from across the field. Long gone were his slacks and tie, and now, he was dressed in a tight black tee with the edges of his two bicep tattoos peeking out from the hem, and uniform issue pants and boots, his wrap arounds shielding those beautiful blues you loved getting lost in. 

You smirked as the two of you locked glances, his smile forming across plump lips. A cocky flick of his head was sent in your direction and you laughed, pulling a hundred dollar bill from your pocket and slapping it flat against the table. 

The competition started, pairing SWAT members against Specials, two by two until both your captains were the final two. 

"Shooters on the line," the facility command officer called. Each shooter stepped up, readying their rifles. Your team lined up behind your boss, Paul and his desk buddies watching from their side. "Stand by... Ready..." The whistle sounded and the first shots at their prospective targets were fired. 

Firing judges followed behind each shooter, judging accuracy, safety and protocol. Three rifle shots fired down range and the shooters tossed their weapons to the side, tucking and rolling one roll with their hand on their pistol all while watchful eyes looked on. Your boss didn't roll, but Paul's did and the snickering started from Special Branch. It didn't deter your focus as you watched your boss, Captain Rogers, finish the round. Three shots fired at metal targets, each one going down in accuracy, then a clip reload and three more shots fired at a close range target before the commanding judge asked both men to put their weapons on safe and holster them. He approached each target for accuracy and declared Paul's boss, Captain Wilson, the winner of the round. That brought the two teams to a tie. 

The Detectives cheered and razzed SWAT but both captains settled their groups down. The field judge confirmed the tie in the competition and groans sounded from both teams. 

"I'll tell you what, I'll toss in an extra two hundred bucks to pit Y/L/N against your pick," Rogers held two one hundred dollar bills up, handing them over to the field judge for safe keeping. 

"Alright, I see your two and raise two," Captain Wilson held out his bills, "for Diskant to take that challenge."

"Oooooooh", both teams razzed the real life couple. 

You couldn’t help the smirk on your face as one of Paul’s colleagues piped up that this could back fire spectacularly as would Paul really want to risk pissing off the woman who controlled his sex life.

“That’s exactly why he wants to win,” you jibed back, causing him to roll his eyes and scoff, “because his sex life is on the line if he doesn’t.”

More laughter rang out across the area as Paul merely shrugged, a smile flickering across his face as you heard Rogers speak loudly to Wilson from behind you.

“Between us, two hundred on my girl to blow your man outta the water."

Paul leaned down, to whisper into your ear, a smirk plying on his lips, "something's gonna get blown."

"What was that?" You coyly played. 

“Sure you wanna do this?” He asked, turning to look at you, his brow arched. “I mean you could just forfeit now and save yourself the embarrassment.”

You held his gaze for a moment before you made a show of dragging your eyes down his body, your gaze lingering on his crotch as if you were contemplating his offer, before you raised your head, your tongue poking out from between your lips a little.

“Did you forget to zip up?" You asked. Paul gave a start, his head jerking down to look at his ‘piece’ so to speak, and at that moment the whistle was blown to start.

The first shots were fired, Paul's just seconds behind yours. Tucking behind the mailboxes for your next shot, you nailed your target and moved forward to fire your final rifle round, using a metal barrel as your cover. You laid your riffle to rest, took a few steps, tucked your chin and rolled, planting your feet and rising up to draw your personal firearm. Poised for your next quick shot behind a mock window frame, you fired at the target and moved on, Paul's form in your peripheral, matching you shot for shot. Coming around the frame you fired a walking shot at your next target and then took your place at the final marker, firing away before the expected reload and emptying your clip into the standing paper target with his hostage. 

"Safety on... Holsters." The range judge called after he blew his whistle. You and Paul followed his commands and waited as he examined your individual targets. It was close, you knew it. Paul was an excellent shot. 

You watched as the judge looked over Paul's target first, poking his finger through two holes in the face before moving on to yours. You nailed your target, all three shots hitting the suspect. One dead shot to the center of his head, the other in the chest and the last in the torso. 

"Here's your winner," the judge declared, pointing at your target. 

Cheers began to ring out and you heard Paul groan loudly, turning to you. "You cheated.”

"I guess the favor's on you," You quipped as behind him you saw Captain Rogers holding his hand out, ready to receive the cash prize from Wilson.  

“You still cheated.”

“I did no such thing!” You scoffed.

“You distracted me.” He folded his arms across his chest, a sullen pout on his handsome face.

“Well, you should know better than to take your eye off the target, Disco,” you smirked and he narrowed his eyes playfully. “On second thought, I think I will let Rodriguez take me home. Burgers and beer on you. Don't forget the extra pickles."

He smirked, his lips brushing yours as he spoke, "come on, ride back with me, I'll make it worth your while."

"Erm, unless I'm mistaken you just lost so..." You popped a shoulder, your eyes not leaving his as you began walking backwards away from him. "I'm in charge."

“I want a divorce.” He shot back and you laughed, shaking your head.

“We’re not married yet, hot shot.” You winked.

“Details.” He waved his hand and you snorted, before you turned and jogged to catch up with your colleagues.

*****

As per your instructions, Paul didn’t forget the extra pickles and later that evening the pair of you were sat on the sofa in your comfy clothes, food and beer in hand as you lounged back watching a film on the Television. You stole a glance at your fiancé for a moment, his sharp profile illuminated in the soft light of the lamp to his right. He really was incredibly handsome, and you often wondered daily how the hell you’d gotten so lucky, as he could have had his pick of women, they tended to fall at his feet wherever you went. But he’d chosen you. Not only that, he’d pursued you. It had taken him a good few weeks after you’d both met on a case when he was in Uniform to finally accept his offer of a date. The dates had continued, and six months later you’d moved in together, and a year or so after that, he’d gotten down on one knee in the middle of your apartment and asked you to be his wife.

Which, reminded you of something you’d heard before.

With a smirk you turned your attention back to the film, took another bite of your burger before you spoke, your tone light and airy.

"So... strippers huh?"

Paul hastily swallowed his food and turned to look at you. "What?"

"Nothing, just typical."

"No, what?" He chuckled.

"I just heard one of the guys before commenting about how the wedding is getting closer so the stag do needs planning. The words Vegas and strippers were mentioned. Several times"

"Fucking Adler, man," he shook his head, dropping his empty burger container into the paper bag on the table in front of you.

“So you are going to Vegas, then?” You shoved another fry in your mouth to stop the smirk from spreading at the teasing.

"Uh, yeah," his reply was nonchalant, but he rubbed at his neck in that way he always did when he was a little nervous or uncomfortable. His big tell.

"Right. And there will be strippers?”

“Yes, there PROBABLY will be strippers." He side eyed you a little as he reached for his beer, the faint flush of red visible on the back of his neck as you took the final bite of your food.

“How probably?”

"There MAYBE be a night at the club." He leaned back, bottle in hand.

"Dicks." You gave a dramatic sigh, dropping your now empty food container into the bag with his. You made a show of scrunching down the top of the bag, dropping it to the floor by the side of the sofa, ready to be taken to the trash, before you leaned back, shaking your head.

"What?" he turned to you, beer paused halfway to his mouth.

"Oh, no, I was just saying, at my hen do there will be dicks. Lots of dicks."

“What the fuck?” He spluttered and you shrugged, not looking at him, feigning concentration on the television.

“I can't have strippers too? Tut, tut Disco, that's very old fashioned."

There was a pause, and you waited for his reaction, knowing it could go one of two ways. Out and out petulant protesting, or some sort of childish, half witty come back.

"You know, my dick is by far the most important." He chose the latter.

"You mean you are the most important dick?"

“Yeah.” He conceded. “Hey, least I’m important in some way.”

At that you laughed and moved a little closer to him. He shifted, allowing you to snuggle under his arm, pressing a kiss to your head.

“You know what else is important?” You asked, your hand gently tracing shapes on his white tee.

“What?”

“That you don’t forget that you owe me a favor, Detective Diskant." “That I do.” He agreed, and you felt him nod.

“So, there’s a pile of ironing that needs doing and the bed sheets need changing tomorrow. Can you manage?”

At that he let out a loud guffaw, his chest rumbling against your cheek. "Seriously, Baby?" He glanced down at you as you tipped your head up to look at him. "Absolutely," you winked

“I am at your complete mercy to satisfy you in any way you want... and you ask me to do chores?” He rolled his eyes. “You’re losing your sense of adventure, Sweetheart.” "Oh I have a sense of adventure, but a bet is a bet and we've pulled three doubles between the two of us so shits gotta get done, and you lost, therefore, you... are... my... bitch.” Your words were punctuated by soft jabs to his chest with your index finger and Paul groaned, throwing his head back against the sofa as he scrunched his eyes closed.

“Fuck my life.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You looked at him and he opened his eyes. “Fuck my wife?”

“We’re not married yet.” He smirked, arching an eyebrow at you as he played back your words from earlier.

“Details,” you played along and he laughed as you shifted a little more so your face was level with his. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

With a cheeky grin he leaned over, pressing his lips to yours, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as the kiss grew deeper, his tongue slowly sliding against yours. You let out a soft moan, shifting a little, your hand cupping his face and then he pulled back. You pouted at the loss of contact and opened your eyes to shoot him a glare, to find him smirking a little.

"Double or nothing, I bet I can make you cum in less than two minutes.”

“Two minutes?” You arched a brow, biting your lip a little as you squirmed at the frankly filthy look in his eyes. “Now?”

“Yup.”

“Bring it on.” You threw down the gauntlet. “But that doesn’t include the time it takes me to get you naked.” He grinned, shifting a little so he was side on, facing you.

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes. “Or the foreplay.”

“Jesus Christ, Paul, just get on with it. You said two minutes. Clock starts the second you start, your challenge not mine. He grabbed your beer bottle and placed it along with his on the table with a bang. “You saying you don’t want me to love on you a little bit before I bang you into next week?” His voice was low as he hovered over you a little, his face inches from yours. "I'm saying I'm fucking desperate, that's what I'm saying."

"Then I won't need two minutes.” He grinned, pressing further into you, causing you to lay back on the sofa.

“God, you’re so full of it.” You narrowed your eyes.

“You’re gonna be full of it soon.” He smirked, his lips pressing to yours. "Stop... Talking... And... Do... It," you demanded between his dizzying, little pecks. His lips curled into a smile against yours as his hands gently trailed up the outside of your smooth thighs, thumbs grazing under the hem of your cut offs. The assault from his lips already soaking you.

It wouldn't take much, you both were fully aware of it. Nearly a week apart or just missing each other had you two desperately seeking release. The question was, who would cave first. He said two minutes and you knew he could hold off until you were good and worked over. His fingers slipped between your denim shorts and he gave a low groan as he felt your damp panties. His kiss grew hungrier and he was quickly on your flies, your shorts were down your leg in a matter of seconds, tossed over the back of the sofa, panties with them. 

He moved to a kneel, one hand gently hooking your right leg up to rest against the back of the couch, knocking the other to the side, your foot falling automatically to the floor, toes pressing onto the soft carpet, leg bent at the knee. You don't even register how fast he moved downwards, and part of you wondered if he lost on purpose. A flat long swipe tasted at your folds.

"Jesus," it felt glorious and your back arched off the sofa in delight. There was a wee bit of scruff causing a tease of friction against your inner thighs and although you weren't timing him, you knew it couldn't have been more than sixty seconds when his tongue dipped into your hole causing you to cry out. 

"Fuck, Paul..."

He gave a little chuckle, mouth vibrating against your nub which he grazed with his teeth. You bit your lip as your insides began to tremble, you were so desperately trying to hold off just to get that last win over him, but it was useless. That rumble had you in the throes of it and you were gone, your legs shaking as you came, your walls clamping around nothing as you gasped, your body shuddering with pleasure.

The smirk and glisten that was evident on his lips as he sat up and caged you in, had you clawing at his shorts. "I win."

"Yeah, okay, you smug little shit,” your voice was breathy as you recovered from your high, your hands pulling at the drawstring in the middle of his abs. “Dare I ask how you want me?”

His baby blues, already dark with desire, flashed and he pressed his lips to yours, his mouth dominating and you could taste yourself on him. You groaned as his hands slid up, cupping your face and he pulled back.

“Hands on the floor, feet on the coffee table, knees bent.”

You blinked, “what?”

“Hands on the floor, feet on the coffee table, knees bent.” He repeated.

Okay, so this was new…

With a final, suspicious look at him as he moved back, you stood, jumping and emitting a little squeak as he slapped your ass as you went. Taking a deep breath you turned, placed your hands on the floor and rested the tops of your feet on the coffee table, your knees bent.

“So you can do as you’re told.” Paul smirked, standing up off the sofa.

“When I want to.” You peeked up at him as best you could to see him sliding his shorts down his legs, stepping out of them before he moved round and threw his leg over your shins. His hands slid up the outside of your thighs, coming to rest on your waist as he pulled you back a little, his erection pressing into your behind as he ground against you, giving a little hiss.

“Fuck, baby you look so good from back here.” He moaned, bending over slightly to press a kiss to your spin and you shivered, your arms wobbling a little and you began to worry just how much of this you could take.

“Paul, seriously, just…”

“Patience.” He cut you off as he gave your ass a soft slap making you emit a noise that was half way between a squeal and a laugh as he positioned himself behind you, and you immediately missed the warmth of his chest where it had been pressed to your back moments ago.

You felt the tip of his dick as it poked at your entrance, and he had no problem slipping inside your already soaked folds. But the angle and the pressure of your body closed off as he slipped inside you set your nerves on fire. You both moaned out together as he slid home, his balls to your clit.

You felt how thick he was against your walls. A little twitch and flutter from his shaft as you both remained still, you silently begging and waiting for him to move. His fingertips gently dug into your hips as he slowly pulled back and moved forward again.

"Fuck, baby, so fucking tight, like this," Paul ground out as he pumped slowly in and out of you. He was taking his time, slow thrusts and long pulls back. In truth, it was agony, but a beautiful torture. And a torture that he continued again, and again, and again. Over and over, in no rush whatsoever, a sharp contrast to where he’d brought you off before on the couch as fast as he could.

Your arms were shaking from baring the position but you wanted more. And as the bubbles of pleasure slowly simmered through your core and deep into your belly, you moaned out your demand. "Harder."

"Oh, fuck," Paul quivered inside you but picked up his pace, his hips slamming into yours, your insides squeezing him tightly as his hands gripped at your hips, blunt nails biting against your skin. With every thrust forward you were jolted, your palms sliding on the rough surface of the rug underneath you, and you curled your fingertips into the deep, cream coloured shag in an attempt to prevent yourself from face planting straight onto the floor.

"Yeah, just like that," you panted, your elbows locking as you pushed yourself up slightly, "oh fuck, Paul!" You could tell by his breathing and how he felt inside you that he was ready to cum but he could always hold off until you had yours. "So close," you managed to pant out, letting him know you weren’t far.

He slowed his pace, bending his body down your spine again, and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, "just," he thrusted, "let", again, "go". 

His words flipped the switch inside your body and you felt yourself going, the blood already rushing to your head from the position you were in, and the pressure was pounding in your ears as you came, hard. "Oh my God!" You cried out as your walls clamped down around him, milking his hot seed to explode inside you. 

"That’s my girl, fuck!" He roared at the feel of you around him, and his hips grew sloppy as he came, grunting, pulling you back onto him as he let go of his thick payload. 

With your chests heaving, bodies stilled, his fingers still around your hips, his thumbs drew lazy circles on your back. You felt his blue gaze on you and you couldn't see it, but you knew he was smirking. 

“Paul.” You managed to swallow, “baby, my arms.”

“Oh, shit, yeah.” He moved gently to pull out of you, curling his arm around your waist in the nick of time as your elbows gave way and the pair of you tumbled rather ungracefully to the rug by the table in a tangle of limbs, your giggles ringing around the room, drowning out the sound of the television.

“You okay?” He asked gently, as you moved so you were lay on your back looking up at him as he lay on his side, propped on his left elbow. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear with his right hand as you nodded, leaning up to kiss him deeply.

“I’m not even gonna ask where you saw or read about that.” You chuckled and he grinned, glancing around the room cheekily before he looked down at you.

“Boys talk, sweetheart.” He shrugged. “But admit it, that was better than making me fold sheets.”

You chuckled as he pressed his lips to yours again, your fingers gently twisting his silver chain between them as you looked at him and arched your eyebrow. “If I admit it will you do it again? Only not tonight, don’t think my arms could take another round.”

Paul let out a laugh which rumbled in his chest and he pressed his lips to yours again. “Maybe we can make a game out of it, see how many other surfaces I can use to I prop your feet on and fuck you from behind.”

You scoffed, slapping at his arm as he grinned down at you cheekily, and you bit your lip.

“I can run with that.” Your hands moved so they slipped round his back, gently tracing shapes over the muscles, making them twitch a little and he sighed as your nails reached that spot on his neck that always turned him to putty in your hands.

“Stop, you know what that does to me.” He looked down at you.

“I do.” You agreed, continuing nonetheless.

“Seriously, you want more?”

“Well, like you said.” Your fingers curled round the nape of his neck, pulling his face down so it was inches from yours. “It’s been a while since we got time together, best make the most of it.”

“Oooh, you’re a bad, bad woman future Mrs Disco…” he smirked, kissing you deeply. “And I’m so down for that.”

****

It was late in the evening, the two of you having carried your sex-capades from the lounge to the bedroom, both of you spent and spooning in the aftermath of bliss when Paul's cell rang out. 

He grumbled and shifted slightly, turning to grab the offending item form the night stand before he answered, "Diskant."

You strained your ears to listen to who was on the other end but it wasn't audible.

"Yeah, okay, got it. I'll call you back," he replied and hung up. Then he quickly made an outgoing call. "Hey, so I just talked to Scribble. Freemont and Coates, or whoever they are, want to meet us." There was a brief pause, "tonight." Another pause and he closed his phone. 

He sighed, turning to you, "I got to go."

"Okay," you sat up, an uneasiness filling your veins. 

"I'll be back," he slipped out of bed, dressing quickly in black jeans, a black button down and hat. He clipped his badge from the nightstand to his belt after slipping into his uniform boots. Then leaned over and gave you a long, deep kiss. "I love you."

"I love you. Come home to me," you kissed him and pulled back, your fingers pressing the medallion of safe keeping against his chest. Paul touched his forehead to yours before he pressed his lips to your own in a soft kiss and headed out. You heard the door click as he left your apartment, and you gave a sigh, settling down into the bed, pulling his pillow to your naked chest as you closed your eyes. Whilst you knew that this was the job, hell, you’d done it yourself for long enough, it still never made it easier and for some inexplicable reason, tonight it made you even more twitchy than normal. But, that was more than likely down to the fact you’d managed to enjoy some quality time together tonight, and it had been so good.

Before long you drifted off to sleep, and you had no idea what time it was when the cordless rang, shrilling through the apartment, raising you from your slumber, but as you blinked yourself awake, it was still pitch black outside. 

"Hello," you croaked. 

"Y/N," you recognized the voice immediately, given your own happenings with IA. 

"Captain Biggs," you replied, suddenly fully awake as you sat up in bed, the covers clutched to your chest.

"It's Paul,” his voice was low and serious and instantly you felt a cold, icy dread floor your system from your head to your toes as he passed, taking a breath, “a unit is on its way for you."

***** Part 2