#I think he would name it Thunder you're so right

[jullbnt]

I found the dragons' heads a bit weird as well when I first saw them up close but I got used to it and now I find them rather endearing ^^

It's not weird to fixate on their eye placement, it makes sense! But to me they are giant guardian spirits that are neither prey nor predator and watch over Hyrule from the skies, so it makes sense that they would need to see in a wide circle around them?

You are perfectly allowed to prefer the ones from SS haha! I actually didn't mind their bodies and robes (I thought they were a nice touch too), but I've always been bothered by their faces and voices.

I think the sea drying up could actually be in favor of Lanayru (or Lanello if you prefer!) being the Water Dragon, because it would make sense for the Goddesses to choose a guardian with the power to protect the province from desertification. Then the dragon would get sick and die the way Lanayru does in SS, which would cause the climate change, and by reviving him/her Link could later allow the region to flourish again. I don’t know I think it would make sense!

I’ve also been thinking that this could explain the swap in BotW. The Water Dragon could move to Lanayru after SS in order to make the land greener and bring back the sea (becoming known as Naydra by the time of BotW), while the Thunder Dragon would replace her in Faron and turn the forest into a jungle (and later be known as Farosh). That would explain why Lake Floria looks the same as the one from SS with a different climate. But maybe I’m trying too hard to make this work, I don’t know.

(Also I tend to believe that Hylia is the Goddess of Time, but that's another debate!)

Even if Rauru only believed Hyrule was a legend he could have said so ^^ "I named my kingdom Hyrule because of the old legends that speak of a land blessed by the Goddesses… ", something like that!

A continent might be an exaggeration, in fact I usually think Hyrule would be as big as a few European countries put together. I just like to imagine that Link would travel for months during his quest ^^

It was never clear to me why exactly Zelda was struggling in BotW, but whatever its intention was I think the game showed that she was wrong to prioritize technology over religion. People always blame Rhoam but he was right in the end, the only thing that could save the kingdom was Zelda’s sacred power coupled with Link’s abilities. The guardians even caused more destruction than Ganon himself! It's almost like there could be a message there about technology/modernity vs. religion/tradition, but maybe I'm going too far or this wasn't intended.

Yes I think they should not be called Sages! It wouldn't change the fact that you can beat Ganondorf without them but then I wouln't care about it as much as I do!

I agree with you on the lack of magic, and the technology in TotK sometimes doesn’t even look like it belongs in a fantasy universe (the fans, wheels and rockets look so ugly/modern and out of place to me).

You're so right about freedom in games! I miss discovering new items or powers along the way and the sense of progression it brought. It also allowed for more puzzle variety instead of using the same four powers all the time, and could open new areas on the map that weren’t accessible from the start (for example it was so satisfying and exciting to finally be able to enter Gerudo Valley in OoT after being stuck at the bridge for most of the game).

Stories also need some sort of linearity in my opinion. TotK's story would be better if Link wasn’t able to learn about the Light Dragon before doing anything else or didn’t withhold that information from other characters for the sake of the silly "fake Zelda" plot.

Yes being able to defeat Ganon and Ganondorf from the start definitely cheapens things, especially in BotW where Link wasn't able to do it 100 years before with the Master Sword in hand. If he can do it barefoot with a stick after being awake for only a few hours, it kind of makes his old self look bad!

Not only did Nintendo create a precedence about the Master Sword being needed to fight Ganon/Ganondorf, but they also showed it on the taspestry in BotW and Link was chosen by the Sword for the purpose of defeating the Calamity, so it feels really wrong that you can beat the game without it.

I agree that the Triforce of Power's abilities haven't been clearly defined (same for Wisdom and Courage), but I think we can assume it would be the biggest source of power in this universe (after all it's a fragment of Din's power). It also seems to make its bearer nearly impossible to kill, since in OoT Ganondorf has to be sealed in the Sacred Realm and in TP he survives his execution thanks to the Triforce. Then it's unclear what exactly happens but he doesn't die until the symbol fades from his hand.

Yes that's just my take on Minish Cap, maybe I need to think a bit more about how it can fit. But even the map is unique, it really feels like it's own thing.

Glad you like Promenade! It's a nice word indeed ^^

Hi, sorry if this is a bit rude. 😅 I guess that I was just wondering. How would Jabul Waters, Zora Cove, & Crossflows Plaza be named in French?

I'm trying to give Jabul Waters an interesting name that works to go with my hc & I came up with "Jabuleaux." And Google Translate tells me that Crossflows Plaza would be Place des Flux Croisés. And, I'm seeing that Anse is the term to refer to a cove &, if that's true, then would Zora Cove be Zoranse? At the same time, somewhere else, it said that Anse actually means beach.

And, I believe that a town by a swamp would have cher, quier, bren, brin, or Hor- in it?

I'm sorry if this is weird... 😅

Hi! Don't worry it's not rude or weird at all! I offered to help and I'm happy to do so :D

Did you check the official French translations? I had a surprisingly hard time finding the French version of the map online so here's a screenshot I took myself:

Jabul Waters = Eaux de Jabule (this one only appears when I zoom out)

Zora Cove = Baie Zora

Crossflows Plaza = Place de l'Estuaire

In case you didn't know the Zelda Wiki often lists names for places or characters in various languages in the "Nomenclature" section of its pages. It's very helpful especially if you're searching for the original Japanese names. If we look at at the different names for Crossflows Plaza we can see that a literal translation from Japanese would be something like "Exchanging Place". I checked the Jisho dictionary and it seems to be an accurate translation, though "Place for Cultural Exchanges" would be more meaningful.

It's not exactly a good name in English so it makes sense that the localization team would come up with something like Crossflows Plaza instead, which in my opinion does a very good job of stating that this is both the place where the river meets the sea and where the two Zora tribes traditionally meet each other.

Other European languages all settled for variations of "Estuary Plaza" ("Place de l'Estuaire" in French), which is fine but looses the "cultural exchanges" aspect of both the original name and the English translation.

I've been trying to come up with a French translation of "Crossflows Plaza" but it's not that easy. To me "Place des Flots Croisés" or "Place Flots-Croisés" would sound better than "Place des Flux Croisés", but I still find it a bit weird ("flot" meaning flow, tide or stream). "La Croisée des Flots" is another option if you agree to get rid of Plaza/Place (it means "the intersection/junction of streams"), but I don't think it works very well as a name.

You could also mix words to create a name the same way it was done in English, something like "Place Croiseaux" (croiser/cross + eau/waters). If any of my French speaking followers is feeling inspired, please share your ideas! :)

(I just thought of "Place Cruciflot" and found it too funny not to mention 😆 maybe it sounds too much like crucifix)

In French we also have the word "confluence" that has the exact same meaning as it does in English: either the meeting of two rivers or a gathering of some kind. So to me the most obvious translation would be something like "Place des Confluences" or maybe "Place Confluence", as it would preserve the dual meaning, but it's not very fancy or creative. Maybe we could simply change the spelling to something like Place Konfluans, the same way "Village Côtier" (Seaside Village) is spelled "Village Kothié" (Seesyde Village). But it doesn't look like a French word anymore so I'm not sure that's something you'd like.

As for Jabuleaux, it can work but I prefer the official translation "Eaux de Jabule". Same thing for Zoranse, we would say "Anse Zora" or "Anse des Zora". The official French translation is "Baie Zora" (Zora Bay), which I think is more appropriate given the size of the sea inlet (in my understanding an anse/cove is a small baie/bay and isn't very deep). I think maybe it should have been bay in English as well instead of cove, but I might be wrong! Also I believe "anse" isn't used as often as "baie" and might be confusing for most people, so I would go with "Baie Zora".

I'm not sure where you found this information about swamps and town names? I didn't find anything to confirm it but I might not have looked in the right places.

French towns are often ancient and their names can derive from other languages such as Celtic, Occitan, Flemish, or regional dialects, so that's a very difficult question and I'm not sure I can give you a satisfying answer ^^

I still did a little search and found an Old French word for swamp, "palud" or "palu", that still appears in some town names such as La Palud-sur-Verdon, Saint-Pierre-la-Palud, Lapalud, etc. (today we say "marais" or "marécage"). You might be right about "bren", it could be something like muddy in Gallic.

There's also "vign" or "mign" (from Celtic), as in Mignéville or Lévignac, or l'Île de Migneaux on the Seine river (this one's in my city!).

Near where I grew up is a town named Hazebrouck, it literally means "hare swamp" (brouck/broek = swamp in Flemish). For a bit more French flavor you could maybe use -broucq or -breucq instead of -brouck.

I think the vast majority of French people have no clue about all of that (I didn't except for the last one and it's more Flemish than French), so I'd say don't oversweat it ;)

And that's all! I hope you'll find this helpful ^^

[queers-gambit]

Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[poguehearted77]

Stormbound

Summary: There's a tropical storm headed straight for the OBX but Rafe won't leave you alone.

smut: dom! rafe, pogue! reader, mentions the pogues, fingering, secret alliances, rafe is a good bad guy, making out, unprotected sex, big dick rafe, choking, teasing, floor sex, missionary, protective rafe, mutual pining but both are too stubborn to admit it.

The rain is just a steady drizzle when you start the long walk back from Figure Eight, cool and misty, soaking through your baby tee and denim shorts, but not quite cold enough to make you turn back.

Not that you would even if it were—the map you’d stuffed in your back pocket was too valuable to leave behind, and JJ had been so insistent that you’d be the one to get it.

It was a worn-out paper, a little frayed around the edges from too many hands clutching it too tight, and tonight, it held the Pogue’s best lead. JJ had been so confident about this—said it’d help them find the next clue, but you were the only one available to get it.

Just in and out, he’d said, sure as always, but of course, that had been before the storm started closing in. Even though you should've been back in the Cut by now, having ridden on the back of JJ's bike as he promised you he would, but of course, he forgot. You cross your arms and mutter to yourself, “Damn it, JJ. This better be worth it.”

The streets around you are silent, eerie even, with all the houses in Figure Eight shuttered up tight in preparation for the coming storm. It’s desolate and unsettling, making you all the more eager to get back to the Cut. But you’re barely halfway there when you hear the low rumble of an engine behind you.

Of course, you think. You don’t even need to turn around to know who it is.

Rafe’s truck slows to a crawl, matching your pace, his headlights cutting through the rain. You feel his eyes on you as he leans out the window, looking you up and down with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“Y/n? What are you doin' out here?” he calls, loud enough to be heard over the rain.

You ignore him, quickening your steps, but he’s persistent. The truck keeps rolling alongside you, just close enough that his voice still carries over the sound of the rain.

“You know there’s a storm coming, right?” he asks, his tone somehow both mocking and concerned. “You’re not gonna make it back before it hits.” A crack of thunder roars through the sky.

“Really? I didn't know that,” you mutter, not bothering to look his way. “Just go away, Rafe.”

He lets out a sigh, exaggerated, and you can practically see him rolling his eyes. “Jesus, can you stop being so damn stubborn? Just get in the car. I'll give you a ride back to the Cut.”

“No thanks.” You keep walking, setting your jaw as you ignore the urge to shiver, the rain starting to pick up, chilling you through your soaked clothes. With another quick glance at the darkened sky, you're now considering taking the shortcut along the beach to shave off some time.

But still, Rafe doesn’t drive off. He just keeps creeping along beside you, the engine of his truck a low, constant hum as he matches your pace. “Stop fucking around, Y/n. If you get caught out here you'll never make it back.” He warns but your shoulders shrug.

“I like those odds a hell of a lot better than risking a ride with you.” you snap, the suppressed shiver prevails as the rain intensifies, falling harder, faster, in cold, fat drops that slap against the pavement and blur the world around you.

Thunder rolls in the distance, low and ominous, and Rafe’s truck finally comes to a full stop as he pulls over. A second later, you hear his door slam shut, and when you glance back, he’s striding through the rain toward you, his face set in an exasperated glare.

“Are you done being difficult yet?” His voice cuts through the rain, his eyes locked on you, unyielding and determined. You hasten your pace, heading down the unpaved path towards the beach with Rafe trailing behind you with calls of your name.

This goes on for too long. The rain is relentless now, pouring down in thick sheets that chill you to the bone. Your vision was so distorted you could hardly see where you were going. You feel yourself starting to shiver, but you lift your chin, refusing to back down even as the storm rages around you.

A heavy hand holds you by the shoulder. “Jesus Christ, Y/n. You're gonna get yourself killed! The storm's just getting started-” he says, his exclamations punctuated with a bright bolt of lightning striking down not too far in the distance followed by a boisterous rumble of thunder.

"Shit!" You both curse before Rafe motions to the storage house up ahead, "We've gotta take shelter before shit goes south."

Even in life and death, your naturally skeptical nature overcomes you as you genuinely take the moment to consider the proposition. The rain was pummelling over the both of you, dripping down your faces, causing you both to squint, “Fine.”

For once there's no smugness in Rafe's expression. It's shielded by a look of relief, initially anticipating more resistance but he doesn’t say another word as you rush towards the shed and lock the doors shut.

The shed was spacious but dark. You took a step forward, or maybe a step back, but you weren't sure, almost instantly tripping over what you can only assume was a pale of some sort. You complain, "I can't see shit in here."

"Hang on," Rafe mumbles, followed by the indistinct sound of ruffled pockets and keys clinking together. The familiar spark of a lighter flicks a flame to life and gives you the light you've needed.

For a moment your eyes meet over the lighter. You clear your throat, looking around for something useful to keep the place lit, a gasp of relief falls from your lips as you locate a dusty lantern on the top shelf.

Raising yourself to the tip of your toes, your fingers are just barely grazing over the glass body of the object before a large hard, adorned with a few rings is already reaching over your head and bringing it down.

"I don't need your help." You snatch the lantern out of his grasp and it causes him to lose balance on the lighter in his left hand, the light goes out for a moment before he relights it.

"Can you ever be fucking grateful for once in your life? Would it kill you to say thank you?" He takes the lantern back and lights it, setting it down on the lower shelf.

"Why should I thank you? You're egotistical, narcissistic, selfish-" Your unfiltered rant is cut short by the pressure of his hand wrapped around your throat. You immediately try to move from him but the weight of his grip holds you in place.

"Selfish? Who's the one that made bail for you when you were caught trespassing in Tanny Hill?" Your brows furrow, "What? Shoupe said it was a wrongful arrest." He shakes his head, his hold around your neck loosens but you don't move it. "That was me. Who's the one that made sure you and those pogues made it off Dead Man's Island untouched when you'd stolen from them? Me."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing, "That doesn't change the fact you're still an asshole. I saw you tampering with my drink at the bar and I got upset then you threw it at my feet-- "That drink was roofied. I saw the bartender spike it," His hold tightened a little more, "Don't worry, I made sure he couldn't use his hands for a long time."

Your stomach was in knots, for once not in a way that made you seasick anytime you were with Rafe. This time was different, there was slight adoration building within you. His eyes were cold, hard, and protective. Without thinking you slinked your hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in for the first kiss of many.

The cold shed quickly filled with warmth as you familiarized yourselves with each other's bodies. Your clothes were now in the pale that tripped you earlier and Rafe's shirt was nowhere to be found, possibly hung up on the wall with the life jackets.

Rain lashes against the walls of the shed, a fierce, steady drumming that drowns out every other sound. The wind howls through the cracks, sharp and wild, whistling as it sweeps across the beach, sending gusts of sand and spray pelting against the flimsy structure.

The ruckus was the least of Rafe's concerns as he had you on your back on a pile of beach towels, moaning his name as he fingered you incessantly with his right hand, his left pinning your leg down to stop moving.

"R-Rafe!" Your vision begins to darken, and your heart rate picks up as you quickly stumble toward your high. The lewd sounds of your slick humiliated you, not because of what it was but because Rafe made you like this. You had Rafe Fucking Cameron between your legs and you loved it.

"Yeah? You got somethin' you wanna say?" He teases, his pace relentless and unforgiving as your body spasmed, your wetness covering his fingers as they stretched you open. The coolness of the metal rings adds a cold surprise with every glide.

"I'm-- fuck! Gonna-" You're interrupted by your own orgasm once Rafe accelerates to a pace that you couldn't handle without being blinded by the heavens. "You look so fucking pretty when you come" Rafe remarks, voice deep but a little unstable. Unsure how long he could maintain his composure.

Not long at all it seems.

The moment the bulbous head of his cock had caught in the ring of your wet heat, he sank himself into the hilt. "Shit-Shit- Shit!" A pained his scratches up the walls of his throat, not giving you a second to adjust. Your back arches off the towels, eyes glossy as they stare up at Rafe whose eyes are screwed shut, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as soft grunts fall from his lips.

His eyes open to look down at you, entranced with every movement on your face, looking for any signs to slow down, but your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer. He groans at the extra depth he reaches within your velvet walls. He lowers himself down, dropping teasing kisses on your lips, the some behind your ear, down the side of your neck and you were sick of his antics.

Looping your fingers under his chain you pull him close to you once again, locking your lips with his. The kiss is messy, unrestrained and dangerously intimate for a pogue and a kook to share. "Can't get enough of you," He whispers against your lips, his thrusts slowing down and dragging slower making everything feel deeper.

"Why'd you have to be such a douchebag." You pout between kisses and he chuckles, "Maybe I wouldn't have to be if you weren't such an ungrateful brat." He snaps his hips on impulse causing you to gasp.

"I'm n-not-" You were losing your train of thought and Rafe couldn't concentrate on anything more than the immense wave of pleasure that was breaking down over him.

"Not what? Huh?" You were unable to speak, the coil in your core rapidly igniting, about to snap. Rafe didn't need to hear you say it to know you were close. "Come on, baby. Give it to me. Give me all you got." His gruff tone combined with the pet name had you unravelling beneath him and he came moments later, pulling out and pumping his cum on your stomach.

He kept you warm on the towels, his larger frame wrapped up with yours. You both refused to acknowledge what had just happened when-- "Oh Shit!" You jolt up, rushing to the pale where your clothes had been displaced and you rummage through the pockets of your shorts to find the map that caused all this.

"What's wrong?" You ignore his question once you have the map in your hands, It's still folded, but soaked. You carefully opened it and the ink was partially illegible, but you could still make out some of the words.

"Is that what I think it is?" Rafe asks and you nod slowly, "The map to Kraken's Rest? It was. The rain washed it out." Rafe takes a closer look at the map, asking where you'd gotten this from.

"I.. borrowed it from the museum." You lie. "You don't have to lie to me, I know you stole this-- Did you get it off the display?" You nod, and he tosses the map carelessly into the pale.

Suddenly you remembered why you didn't get along. "What are you doing I need that." You're about to retrieve it when he speaks up. "Museums rarely put the real shit out for the public. All the authentic artifacts are kept in the Kildare vaults."

The good news puts a smile on your face before reality wipes it off, "How am I supposed to get in there unnoticed? They'll catch me before I even make it to the door."

Rafe grins as if the sequence of events has worked itself out too perfectly. "I'm on the guest list for their upcoming exhibit charity gala. The vaults are fingerprint-protected, and I know a guy who's got access. The event is pretty high-profile so I know he'll be there. I can lift his prints and pass them to you during the night so you can get to the vault..."

It sounded like a good plan but how would Rafe get prints to you-- He continues, "But if the plan is gonna work, you'll have to come with me. As my plus one." He's unable to mask the small tug on his lips at the offer and you smile.

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbor fic Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, soft smut, praise kink, size kink, breeding kink, daddy kink Simon Riley/female reader

If he could choose a way to die, this would be it.

He would choose to die right in this moment, where you're laying on your back in front of him, legs spread wide, chest heaving with the exertion of your second orgasm, limp and pliable, sweet as sugar. He'd choose to die in this room, with your name on his lips, the feeling of your body against his, your muscles seizing and hips jolting under his touch, the smell of your cunt in his nose, taste of your arousal on his tongue. He'd choose to die from happiness, elation, euphoria, the feelings so strong they feel like they might burst free from his veins and flood this room, spill from his heart like it's exploded.

He's mad for it. Mad for you. Allowed his madness to guide him, take over, control his vocal chords, his limbs. He's like a marionette, strings being plucked by none other but yourself, though you're none the wiser.

"Simon?" You whisper, very quiet, careful. You're nervous, he can tell. You've been nervous since he got you home and sent Johnny on his way, nervous ever since he laid you on your back and stripped you bare, ran his lips over every inch of skin possible, every pretty little lightning bolt, every single part you tried to hide.

"I'm here." He answers, taking your wandering hand with his own, squeezing it for good measure. You're floundering, wondering, eyes wide and a little lost, anxious at the lapse. "Just lookin' at you." He says, fingers stroking across your belly, following them with his mouth. "Don't think I've ever seen something so beautiful." You giggle, and it's soft, like the chiming of bells, the kind of music that angels would make, he thinks.

"Should I-" you turn to roll, like you're going to go facedown, or maybe up onto your hands and knees, and he stills you, forearms coming up to frame your face, thumb stroking along your furrowed brow line.

"No." He shifts your hip, settling you into a better position, and then strokes his cock, nudging it against your entrance. "I want to see your face." He wants to see your face, your eyes, your mouth, more than anything else in this world. Wants to see it everyday, wants to see it crying with bliss when he makes you come around him, wants to see it when he goes to bed and when he wakes in the morning. He wants to see it on a little paper picture, tucked up into his tac vest when he's away, wants to see smiling, giggling, content... happy. Safe. There will be plenty of time for the other stuff, for when he bends you over the couch, bends you over his knee, fucks you in the kitchen, in the shower, on the table. He hovers for a moment, soaking you in, blood thundering in his veins, through his ears, throbbing into his cock, and he's so hard it nearly hurts, but he can't rush this. He has to get it right.

"Simon." You whine, hips flexing, thrusting up so he feels the heat of your body, the wet heaven of your cunt. He grits his teeth.

"Fuck, sweetheart." He grunts, and then pushes, your eyes going wide, matching the round o of your mouth, fingernails tightening into his back, fluttering pussy trying to accommodate the stretch. He's big, bigger than you in many ways, he knows, and when your back arches, legs involuntarily folding, knees lifting, he traps you there, holding them steady so he can look down and watch the way he sinks into your body, cock disappearing inch by inch.

"Ohmygod ohmy- it's too- you're-" you gasp, and he leans down, slicking his tongue against yours, stealing your whimpers and moans, greedily drinking them up.

"I know, I've got you." He thrusts a little deeper, getting closer and closer to his hips being flush with yours. "You can take it." He goes slow, working you open, getting you used to him for as long as he can stand it, watching every little expression that falls across your face, every moment of bliss. "Is that good, sweetheart?" He noses at you, and you nod with a gulp, still holding onto him, arms trembling.

"Y-yeah. So good, so so good." You babble, nearly incoherent, cock drunk, and it feeds the reckless, hungry drive inside of him, encoraging him on, faster, until he's fucking into you with enough power that you're starting to inch up the bed moaning out nonsense vowels.

He gets lost, for a second, thinking about if you didn't have an IUD. Thinking about what it would be like, if he was breeding you, filling you with his come every night until it took, until you were growing his baby, round belly underneath a sweater, cradled in his arms in bed, giving Emmaline a sibling, making you a mama again, with him, for him. It shatters across his brain like the ricochet from a gun shot, white hot light searing inside his eyes, nearly making him come inside you right there until he pulls out with a deep breath, letting the head of his cock rest just inside your body as he collects himself, and then thrusts back in.

"Fuck!" You gasp, a little too loud, and you wince, eyes shocked. He puts his hand over your mouth, kissing your nose between where it pokes out between his thumb and forefinger.

"My good girl." He thrusts, and you moan, licking the salt of his palm. "My good," He's so deep, can feel where you end, where he's pressed against your cervix, and your eyebrows crinkle, tears gathering on your waterline. "sweet, mama. Doin' so good, taking this cock." Your eyes roll, and he drags himself along the silky heat of your walls, before plunging back in. "Is this what you wanted, sweetheart? This what you needed?" The word daddy almost slips, almost falls out like- 'is this what you wanted, for daddy to take care of you? Is this what you needed, for daddy to take you home and take care of this pussy- but he holds it in, reels in back just in time for you to nod as answer to his voiced question, and he pulls his hand away, rubbing his thumb against your bottom lip. "Tell me."

"Yeah, oh- Simon, yes-" you pant, a little squeaky, tear rolling down your cheek. You saying his name like this, with him so full inside you, fills him with fire, roaring heat racing through his muscles, and he grinds his hips against yours, making you groan, bucking against him when he finds your clit and glides his thumb across it, over and over.

"Do you wan' be my good girl?" He asks, pumping harder, pushing you the limit, and you cry out against his hand, nodding frantically, which he rewards with a smile, and another swipe across your clit. "Come for me. Let go sweetheart, I'm right here." He coos, still swirling your swollen bud in a circle, your legs practically steel around him, eyes brimming with tears. He'll take care of you. He'll give you everything. He'll never let you go, he swears, he swears, he swears... he doesn't stop, just keeps going relentlessly, fucking you as deep as he can as you come around his cock, exploding like a bomb, silently screaming into his palm. He's following you over the cliff of your orgasm a second later, nose pressed to your cheek, whispering insanity into your skin, half praying you won't be able to make sense of it. Whispers and vows of love, and protection, of care, promises and secrets, until the two of you are limp against one another, basking in the glow and heat of your bodies.

He closes his eyes for a moment. Just for a second, just to take a deep breath, preparing to pull out, to move on to what's next, cleaning you up, getting you in a bath or a shower, making sure you're comfortable, you're cared for, you're cherished as you ought to be. He closes his eyes, and it's just long enough for him to feel the shaking of your chest under his. Just long enough to hear the sniffle, the hiccup, his eyes opening in confusion, concern, cradling your face between his palms. "Sweetheart? What's wrong, what is it?" Panic stirs in his gut, and when you don't answer, his mouth goes dry, fear dousing him in a cold sweat. "Did I... did I hurt you?" When the only answer is the sound of your sobs, fat tears that stream down your cheeks, his heart cracks wide open in his chest.

Maybe he could very well die in this moment. But not from happiness. From agony.

[somegrumpynerd]

HE'S GOT A COMFORT WOLF!!!!!!!!!!!

@somegrumpynerd :3c Cross getting his first toy ever

I think it's the kind of thing he brings everywhere cuz it's his comfort item.. and he's never had a comfort item before

[too-much-tma-stuff]

This idea sort of burst out of me like Alien so it's unedited. There will probably be more.

In short, Cas picks up on the fact that Danny is pregnant at a Wayne Gala and have the right idea but the wrong context.

Masterpost

------

Danny was barely holding it together and really he had been for a long time. It had sort of been fun and games at first when he became a hero. Sure his accident had hurt like hell but he'd sort of repressed that and for real? Lunch Lady? Box Ghost? Even Skulker was sort of a joke and he hasn't actually felt threatened. Sneaking around behind his parents backs and sneaking out with his friends had been fun. It had all felt like a game at first, and then somewhere in there things had gotten very real.

He'd known he couldn't count on his family to protect him but they couldn't even see Vlad was a threat. And he felt like he had lost the last of his innocence when he saw the clone Vlad had made of him melt. He hasn't been in time, he had panicked and he had only managed to save a couple by taking them into his own body to shield their still forming cores. Ellie and... should Danny name the other one or would he name himself when he was ready?

He kept touching his stomach over where he could feel the little balls of his mirror children hovering just below his own core. He was so tired all the time as they relied on his energy, he was eating more then ever and he knew his family was worried. He didn't think he could hide this and he couldn't predict when they would emerge. What if they did in front of his parents? They definitely wouldn't react well. And Vlad kept trying to use this against Danny. Promising to look after him and the babies if he was really insisting on carrying them, as if Danny could rip those tiny 'lives' out of himself now.

And no matter how many times he tried to tell his parents that Vlad was bad news, that he creeped Danny out and made him feel unsafe they wouldn't listen! Dad didn't even hear him and mom made sympathetic noises and then told him to bear with it for Jack's sake because he didn't have many friends.

So of course when Vlad had asked if 'Daniel' could accompany him to a gala in Gotham his father had agreed! Even his mother had agreed when Vlad promised it would be educational and safe! And here Danny was, hanging on by a fucking thread in a suit that felt uncomfortably tight around his middle, having just escaped being paraded around as Vlad heir like a particularly expensive watch. He was behind the snack table having piled a plate as high as he could and scarfing it down before Vlad could find him again and scold him for being rude. He hadn't noticed yet that a family of dark haired socialites kept giving him worried looks. A young woman with dark eyes signing frantically to a man with blue eyes and a dimpled frown.

It was the man who slid up carefully next to Danny trying not to startle since he seemed to have genuine food aggression.

"Yeesh kid you seem like you're starving! All those fancy Hors d'oeuvres are fun but not very cooling and I feel like I'd be a poor host if I didn't offer you something more filling! If you'll come me to the kitchen I'm sure our family butler would be happy to whip something up for you?" The man said with an inviting some that did nothing to sooth the way Danny's hackles raised instinctively.

He was about to say no on reflex when he spotted Vlad heading towards them with an expression like a thunder cloud. Danny's back went ridged and the other man followed his gaze with a frown. "You know what ya that sounds great let's go now!" Danny said dropping his half full plate on a nearby tray and dragged the stranger away with him as Vlad shouted after him.

"Daniel come back this instant! Unhand mister Wayne! Daniel this is unacceptable!"

'Mr. Wayne' took over leading them and spirited Danny through a back door as a bubbly blonde intercepted Vlad and a small woman slid in behind them like a shadow.

"So, Danial I assume?" The man asked, amusement crinkling around his eyes as Danny grimaced.

"Mr. Wayne I assume?" Danny returned, unaware of the way one arm was protectively wrapped around his stomach, but the girl noticed. It was Dicks turn to grimace.

"Okay ya, I go by Dick. What about you?"

"Danny," he said not reacting to the name, he'd heard far stranger. "And what about you?" He asked Cas, startling Dick a little because she was doing her 'shadow thing' and not many people would have noticed her.

"That's Cas, she has a hard time talking sometimes," Dick explained as Cas materialized and gave Danny a reassuring smile and wave.

The teen harrumphed but he did follow them down to the kitchen where Alfred was drinking a cup of tea, staying well clear of the foolishness upstairs. "Ah, hello young masters," Alfred he said, glancing between the three with a raised brow. Though the two who knew him could see the way his expression softened when Danny shrunk in on himself. "What can I do for you?"

"Hey Alfred do we have any leftovers from dinner or something filling we can whip up fast? Danny here is too hungry for just the fancy font for upstairs." Dick asked cheerfully.

Alfred raised his eyebrows again and looked at Cas who was standing behind Danny. Glancing at Danny to make sure he wasn't looking she grimaced then touched her stomach and mimed holding an infant.

Alfred's expression turned stormy for just a moment then smoothed. "Of course we do, Why don't you make our guest comfortable and I'll see what I can do. Do you have any allergies young man?" Alfred asked and Danny shook his head mutely.

"You're the best Alfie!" Dick said, hovering a hand over Danny's shoulder rather then actually touching him as he leas him towards the comfortable breakfast nook.

The boy seemed tight lipped and gaunt, his eyes flicking around them as if he expected a threat to pop up at any time. Dick slipped into the booth across from him. Trying to think of the best way to ask this kid how... why, and who hurt him.

Cas has stayed in the kitchen, but not for long. She came to them with a tray of mugs moments later and slipped into the booth next to Danny. Gently she took his hands and pressed the warm mug unto them. He blinked and focused of it, as if on autopilot he lifted it to his lips, Cas keeping a hand on his elbow to steady him as he drank.

The warm comforting drink, and hand on his arm, presence by his side as Cas slid imperceptibly closet and closer till she was pressed against Danny's shoulder, felt like they were taking him apart from the inside. Thawing out the cold numbness he shielded himself behind. Half way through his tea he glanced up, at the worried blue eyes so like Jazz, so worried and warm.

He put down the mug suddenly as a sob shook his body. Cas wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, cooing comforting wordless little sounds as she let him bury his face into her chest and just sob heaving, exhausting outbursts of repressed emotion.

"Are the babies okay?" She asked and he froze, his breath catching in his throat. She clicked her tongue and rocked him gently. "Okay, okay, not in trouble," she promised.

"They- I don't know, they were so weak, I’m trying, but I don't know if I can keep them alive." Danny sobbed lifting his hands to cover his face.

"The stress can't be helping," Dick pointed out, climbing across the table like it was nothing to sit next to them and rub Danny's back. Danny gave a little hiccupping hysterical laugh. "Do you have support, or like, do you know your options?" He asked awkwardly.

"I'm not getting rid of my babies! I don't care if the man who made them is an obsessive creep who drugged me! I love them they're MINE!" The feral protectiveness seemed to startle Dick even as Cas continued to make soothing sounds.

"Your choice, only yours," she promised. "Have help?"

Danny sniffled and shook his head. "Safe?" Another shake of the head.

"The man who... did this?" Dick asked as delicately as he could. Another hysterical laugh.

"I've tried! I've tried to tell my parents he's a creep, he's dangerous but they don't listen! My dad thinks he hung the fucking stars, mom says he's harmless. They don't believe me! I-I can't tell them about the babies. They'd make me get rid of them or worse! I can't." Danny sobbed and Cas soothed.

"Okay, okay, you don't have to." She promised. "You stay with us, you and babies safe, never have to see him again."

"Ya right. Wait, your serious? What" Danny asked, pulling back and looking at her with wide bloodshot eyes.

"She's very serious young master," Alfred said as he approached making Danny jump. there was a hard set to the old man's jaw and steal in his eyes that left no room for questions as he set a plate of eggs, sausage, and fruit in front of Danny. "Master Bruce has a foster license and is a mandatory reporter. I'm sure once he hears even a fraction of this he will insist you stay. I will prepare a room for you. Am I to assume the man who's shouting demanding your return upstairs is the source of this distress?"

Danny swallowed and nodded, Alfred nodded back and paused to rest a gloved hand gently on Danny's hair before walking away briskly.

"Eat," Cas said, nudging him gently to let go of her. "As much as you want. Still hungry? We raid Tim's secret cereal stash."

"Gasp! You know where it is? You've been holding out on me?!" Dick demanded with exaggerated betrayal and as the two started to banter Danny ate. He was glad of the distraction, of not having the attention on him as he devoured the healthy, and nutritious meal the butler had made for him. It had been a while since he'd had a good home cooked meal, it made his core feel warm and he could feel the two little echoes as his hummed.

The babies were happy too, he didn't believe these people could keep him safe from Vlad really, but this was nice. Maybe he would let them try, get a few more good meals, a respite, and maybe... maybe his parents would finally notice that something was wrong and actually stand up for him?

That was probably wishful thinking but he could hope right? there was no harm in that.

Part 2

[beomie3]

2am ☽༓･*˚⁺

bf!beomgyu x fem!reader

warnings: smut, reader is super horny n desperate for beomgyu at 2am, make out, oral f!recieving, face sitting, use of vibrator, safe(ish) sex, praise kink? cum eating, they are super messy lol.

wc: 4k

♫ title track: 2am - che ecru

･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

thunder rumbles overhead and you're still restless under the sheets, thinking about the way beomgyu looked in his tight jeans today; the way his bulge naturally poked out a little too much to go unnoticed by you. you just wanted to palm him through his jeans, see that fucked out half-open smile when he's falling apart under your touch.

you replayed scenarios in your head, imagining all of the dirty things you would've done to him when you two sat on the couch earlier playing charades instead of fucking, which you so needed right now. nonetheless, you still had tons of fun with him earlier, you were just horny as hell right now lol.

you rubbed your thighs together at the dirty thoughts replaying in your mind as beomgyu lay "sound asleep" next to you, not knowing that his eyes had fluttered open moments ago from your sudden squirming. he had fallen asleep a while ago, lulled by your warmth and the whir of soft thunder and rain at your window, but here you were wide awake.

he turned around from being little spoon, suddenly facing you with slightly tired eyes, lips puffy from sleep, heavy head propped on his sandwiched hands. you just wanted to crash your lips to his, press your body so tightly to his and tangle all of your limbs together. but you feared maybe he wasn't in the mood and you didn't want to wake him any further.

but oh hell, did beomgyu know that horny look on your face; the way your eyes slightly narrowed with unholy thoughts behind them, subtle flush on your cheeks, body warm and threatening to break out in a sweat.

if it wasn't for your squirming, beomgyu would probably still wake up because of how hot your body temperature was, practically screaming out for some sexual attention.

oh yes, he noticed all of these things about your current state but he remained innocent, acting like he had but a clue in the world to what you were experiencing. just staring at you with tired puppy eyes barely visible in the warm glow of your night light.

"what's wrong baby?" he cooed in his deep, sleepy voice, not intending to turn you on the amount that it did. your legs were shut so tight, slick wetness beginning to seep past your panties and onto your thighs. oh was beomgyu in for a wet surprise.

"i-" you struggled to find the right words to say without saying what you really wanted to say; fuck me right now beomgyu, i need you inside me at this instant!

instead you searched his eyes with a half open mouth, the words caught in your throat and having to clear it a couple times. noticing your struggle to admit your horniness, beomgyu began trailing his fingers up your thigh, feather soft, making it even harder to speak out.

"it's okay baby, just say it. say whatever you want to say," his pinky finger began lightly prodding at your hot and throbbing clit through the wet fabric, stifling a moan as he ever so slowly slipped his pinky past the elastic of your underwear.

"you looked so good today beomgyu. so fucking- hah," you were halted when he pressed his pinky to your absolutely drenched core, circling around your entrance without any added pressure.

"continue on my love, i'm interested," he was beginning to tease you, slowly inserting the tip of his pinky into you as you tried to form coherent sentences, already fucked out by his pinky. barely his pinky.

"i've just...been thinking about being stuffed with your cock all night and i thought i could make it through the night but i can't- i just can't gyu," you moaned out his name at the end, as he had slipped a hand under your (really his) baggy shirt and began circling your nipple with his cold fingertip until it was perky, pelting your entire body with chills.

"you need me to stuff you full of my cock? you could've just said that earlier baby," his deep voice trickled into your ear as he pressed a light kiss to your jaw in the dark, his entire hand already drenched by your juices as he hadn't even done much down there except prod at your clit and slightly finger you with one pinky. you nodded furiously.

"i can do that. i can do double that," he kissed your jaw again, reaching over you and into the drawer of the bedside table to pull out the pink vibrator you both kept there to use during frisky times like these.

he sensed just how badly you needed to be fucked, practically wetting the bed with your arousal and exuding feverish amounts of body heat with how horny you were. he'd be sure to give you the night you needed. give you everything he had in him; even bringing in the help of a toy, turning you on so much you nearly felt dizzy. beomgyu to the rescue!

and so he started out slow, leaning on his elbow next to you as he peeled back the sheets over your bottom half, rubbing the vibrator that had yet to be turned on over your underwear, making you whine out.

but you enjoyed the anticipation, moaning against his lips as you passionately made out. desperately tugging on the fabric of his plain black shirt. he got the memo and slid it off, running your hands down his warm, delicious skin, desiring to press your soon to be naked body to his so badly.

the pace of your make out was quickened as you sat up and he followed, pulling your night shirt off and abandoning it to the side, savoring your hot skin with his hands as he smoothed them over your chest, back, and waist.

you held his face as you kissed him, becoming rougher as you wrapped your arms around his neck, sucking at his plump lips. fuck- he was so delicious you just couldn't think straight, head buzzing with euphoria as you pressed your bare chest to his and felt the warmth seep from his skin, nipples perky against him.

you sat onto your knees with your ass in the air to help him slide your panties off, not noticing the strings of wetness clinging to the wet fabric in the dark, but then you immediately felt the cold air hit your wet thighs, making you aware of just how drenched you were.

"how are you this fucking wet? i love it," he nearly moaned against your neck as you leaned over him, collecting some of your juices with two fingers and placing them into his mouth, quickly crashing his lips back onto yours with sloppy tongue so that you could taste yourself on his lips.

"don't you taste so good?" he pulled away, gazing up at you starry eyed as you bit your lip and smiled, seeing his white teeth slightly peek through his lips in the dim light.

you were on all fours leaning over him, ass still in the air and he took advantage of this by sitting up on his knees, hand firm on your back to keep you in this position.

he turned the vibrator on but took his time nearing it to where you needed it most, watching you writhe as he placed it onto your leg, ass cheek, everywhere BUT your soaked and neglected pussy. you were on the brink of frustration, moaning and clenching around nothing desperately to notify beomgyu of how needy you were.

he was enjoying this; lip between his teeth, conscious of the throb in his dick as it lay flush against his stomach under his plaid pajama pants. he also couldn't wait to fuck you, but he wanted to treat you to as many orgasms as he could before it was his turn to stuff you with his cock as he had promised.

finally, the vibrator reached your clit as he held it between your legs from behind, your back arching as you let out a loud moan, head thrown back and hair messy over your face. it felt so good, especially the feeling of beomgyu's attentive eyes on you, controlling the speed and placement of the toy against your desperate clit.

wetness dribbled down your thigh, serving as beomgyu's cue to lick it up and savor more of your taste because he loved it, situating himself behind you and starting to lick up your thighs. you grew louder as he began to eat you out from the back, still holding the vibrator to your clit as he fucked you with his tongue, cursing at the sheer pleasure.

he too began to moan at how hot this was; you on all fours, ass in his face as he ate you out while double stimulating you, now triple stimulating you as his moans also vibrated against your entrance and had you nearly screaming.

you cried out incoherent sentences as he sucked the juices from your entrance, eyes rolling back as you were so close to snapping. you yelped when he turned the vibrator speed up a notch higher, right up against your swollen clit as you came hard, clenching around nothing but his tongue that was there to catch your juices as you rode it through your waves of pleasure.

so not to overstimulate you, he pulled the vibrator away from your wet folds and over to your nipples, perking up at the vibration over them.

you hung your head, nearly falling over from the instant fatigue after coming so hard. but he kept you there with a firm hand on your hip, kissing and licking your skin like it was an ice cream; tongue trailing all around your thighs, ass, and back, licking a long stripe to your ear as he gently nibbled on it and sent chills darting up your spine in small waves.

he rolled the vibrator off to the side, quickly sliding himself under you and helping you to straddle him, to which you immediately began messily undoing the strings of his pajama pants.

he lifted his hips and slid his fuzzy pants down along with his boxers, stained heavily with precum as he had grown painfully hard at the sight and sounds of you so needy for him.

the two of you were beautifully bare now, and you lowered your hips down to his, sitting on the underside of his warm, throbbing and rock hard dick, causing both of you to breathlessly moan out when you began to grind on it, whimpering when the rim of his tip perfectly massaged your aching clit.

slick sounds filled the room and you picked up the pace with the guidance of his firm grasp on your hips, already feeling the urge to come again just by the sensation of his warm cock sliding through your puffy folds perfectly.

"wait baby," he slowed your back and forth movements on his dick and looked up at you with his beautiful brown, doe eyes; both love and lust shining in their depths.

"come on my face?" he tilted his head slightly and you could just melt on sight. he was just too perfect and cute for this world, asking you for something so nasty, but sounding like the best idea in the world.

you smirked and leaned down to kiss him, his soft hand coming up to cup your cheek, tongue entering your mouth as it quickly got heated and his dick was prodding at your entrance. as badly as you just wanted to slide him inside of you, he made you wait for it which made it even better, like the cherry on top of all the foreplay.

using his hands to guide your hips, he groped at the plush of your ass, tracing little soothing circles over the red skin after squeezing it so hard. you crawled on your knees to position yourself over his pretty face, knees sinking into the pillows on either side of his dark head of hair.

he looked up at you like you were the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen, using his thumbs to spread your wet folds open as he licked his lips at the delicious sight, a low rumble in his throat as he groaned, hungry for you.

sitting down on his face with the guidance of his hands on your hips, he began to go at it; licking and sucking and slurping and making out with your lower lips, throwing your head back with a loud moan with how fantastic he was. sliding his fingers up and down your waist, pinching at your nipples to add to the pleasure.

while he was busy eating you out like you were the best meal he's ever had, you reached over to grab the vibrator, turning it on the lowest setting and reaching behind you to run it up the length of his cock, leaving it on his tip and he moaned into your folds.

he wasn't expecting to be teased back but to say he enjoyed it was an understatement. he fucking loved the sensation against his throbbing head mixed with your taste all over his mouth. and you loved it too, tongue stuffed so deep into you that you could feel his moans vibrate into you, lightly grinding your hips against his tongue to fuck yourself with it.

it wasn't long before you were completely riding his face, both fucked out of your minds as he mumbled incoherent words against your slick folds, lapping and flicking his tongue across your clit messily as he held it firm for you to use like a toy, so so close to unraveling all over him.

"how are you so fucking good beomgyu?" you moaned out, and you were sure the neighbors would probably know his name by now. the sound of you moaning his name like that, praising him and all, had him thrusting his hips up and into the vibrations on his tip, on the verge of exploding all over his own tummy.

all he could do was moan out, looking up at you with pleasure filled eyes, furrowed eyebrows as you rode his face, fingers interlaced with yours and palming your ass together as you felt your core reach its all time high, tightening around his tongue stuffed deep into you, coming all over his face as he sucked and lapped up your juices; the sounds of your lewd moans and whimpers having him drizzling warm cum all over and making a mess of his tummy and spilling over onto the sheets.

catching your breath and crawling in front of his thighs, you used your fingers to scoop up his cum, sucking your fingers clean of the slightly salty liquid, leaving him infatuated; eyes glued to you as he propped himself up on his elbows.

you licked his lower abdomen up completely, cum decorating your lips as you ran your tongue around to savor every last drop, his heart pounding at how hot you looked doing so. his body was about as hot as yours now, jaw slack as he stared at you in awe as you sucked your finger suggestively, intense eyes on his.

"you're so hot." he breathlessly mumbled, wetting his lips with the dart of his tongue over his open mouth, sweat beading at his forehead and daring to drip down onto his flushed, glimmering face. what a beautiful sight it was from your angle.

"says you," you still had your wits about you even after being drunk off of him, both looking at each other fucked out as ever.

he couldn't contain the sudden urge to manhandle you, suddenly sitting up and crashing his lips to yours as he secured an arm around your waist and hips, quickly flipping you over onto the bed so that you lay under him, pinning your hands down and above your head and interlacing them with his.

butterflies darted down your spine and into your stomach at his sudden assertion of dominance, melting against his warm body; willing to do anything and everything for this boy.

his sweet scent wafted into your nose and you felt right at home; arching your back up and into him to be as physically close to him as humanly possible.

"you wanna be stuffed with my cock hm?" he nudged your jaw with his nose and you could feel his smirk on your skin; moving your head aside to give him the access of your neck, blowing cool air into your ear and shivering as it traveled down your steaming skin. he just knew all the right things to do to have you so overcome with such hot arousal.

and holy shit, the way his voice turned you on was a whole other story; whimpering and squirming under his body and wrapping your arms and legs all around him. it simply melted you like honey, seeping into your brain and had blood rushing directly to your clit. so breathy and deep and amazing. and hearing his moans in your ear? you just couldn't wait to hear him moaning all loud like he always does when he's fucking you good.

"please gyu," you nodded, hair staticky against the pillow as your locks fanned out all over it. leaning down, he took your cute tits into his mouth, drunk on the way he swirled his tongue around each bud, subtly rutting his hips against yours; cock flush against your folds and threatening to slip inside at any moment.

he tapped his tip against your clit, releasing a mewl from your lips. you really thought he was going to fuck you in this position, but you thought wrong. suddenly, he picked you up and flipped you over again so that you lay on your stomach, hand firm on your lower back to keep you there.

he watched you for a moment from his vantage point, the way your pretty side profile was visible as you lay your head on the pillow, attractive back that just called his chest to lay flush to it, cute ass in full display as you slightly wiggled it in anticipation.

he palmed your plush cheeks with both of his warm hands, kneading the skin deliciously and sliding them up your back. pressing them by your sides as he lowered himself down, warm chest pressed to your back, lips right next to your ear now as his warm breath spilled into the shell.

he hooks your left leg so that the back of your knee is held with his the bend of his elbow, chin resting on your shoulder with gentle kisses to your skin. the moment you've been waiting for arrives; he takes his cock and circles the tip around your slippery entrance before sliding it into you so slowly, stretching you out deliciously.

you moan loudly into the pillow, ass pressing into his stomach as he's all the way in, so deep inside of you that you can feel the weight of his balls on your clit, walls clenching him so tightly; causing him to twitch and whimper into your ear. you bury your hot face into the cold pillow, heart racing at the sound of his sexy moans and whimpers melting into your brain.

he thrusts are deep and slow until he starts slightly picking up his pace into a rhythmic pattern, rolling his hips against the plush of your butt as the subtle sound of slapping skin and both of your moans fill the room in harmony.

"this what you needed baby?" he coos against your ear out of breath, voice sweet and fanning across your skin.

"yes beomgyu oh- fuck yes," you moan out repeatedly, so dumb on his cock that you could hardly form a coherent sentence. he has an idea that will get you even more fucked out, reaching over to grab the vibrator, placing it against your swollen clit, leg still hooked in his arm and lifted at the perfect angle.

your legs begin to shake as he simultaneously ruts his perfect dick into you, hitting your g-spot as he also satisfies your clit with the delicious buzz. you can't stop moaning his name; wanting to moan his name indefinitely because of how it rolls off your tongue just perfectly.

his brown hair is messy over his sweaty forehead as you turn to look at him; his mouth half open, lips glossy and half lidded eyes, absolutely pussy drunk.

he looks so fucking hot, so perfect and sexy that you don't think twice before pulling his neck to you with your free hand, sucking his lips into a hot make out, strings of saliva connecting you when you come up for a breath.

it's not long before sweat is dripping down his neck and down onto your back, slapping sounds against your ass and high-pitched moans loud enough to be heard well outside of the room.

he turns the vibrator up one more notch, eyes rolling back in your head as you feel overtaken with everything he's giving you, his moans growing louder as he can feel the vibrations through your walls and onto his cock.

"your pussy's so perfect baby. you're so perfect and you're all mine hah-," he deeply chuckles into your neck, sucking marks onto the skin, biting your shoulder gently but sure to leave a mark when he realizes just how close he is.

cursing against your back he holds your hip in place, judging by how loud and shaky you're growing, you'll come at any moment as well. his grip on you is sure to leave bruises in the shape of his fingertips, marking you his.

nothing but i'm so close with spews of filthy words and each other's names exiting one another's mouths fill the room. his tip kissing the deepest part of you with every single thrust.

"cum all over me gyu, decorate me in your cum," you moan out as you feel him violently twitch inside you, that being the last straw before you're gripping the sheets so hard you could rip them, vigorously fluttering and clenching around his cock as you orgasm, entire body shaking.

"yeah? i can do that, watch me." he moans out of breath as he turns your chin to watch him; giving you two final thrusts before he pulls out, releasing so much cum all over your ass and back, its warmth inviting chills to the surface of your skin.

his head is thrown back, mouth open and adam's apple bobbing up and down as he moans your name mixed with profanities and other incoherent words. a sheen of sweat covers his entire body that's on full display for you, stomach tensing as he finishes releasing onto you. your insides continue to flutter, cheeks flushed from both sweat and because of how sexy he is, simply not able to take it anymore.

you collapse onto the bed and he follows right on top of you, making a mess of his own seed on himself, smearing between your back and his chest, not giving a shit about it with how fucked out you both were.

you thought you might be done, but you were only getting started.

it's three hours later and the two of you have been fucking all night, going as many more rounds as you could both muster. him on top of you, you on top of him, sideways, legs over his shoulders and nearly behind your head, legs pressed to your chest, hands above your head, hands tangled in his hair.

soft, hard, intimate, catching one another's moans in your mouths, lips puffy and red by now with nonstop making out.

and by the time you collapsed on top of him with your nth orgasm, the birds were chirping outside as the sun slowly began peeking it's bright eye through the blinds, casting warmth onto your skin and onto the now disheveled and sticky sheets.

panting and absolutely out of it, a few final i love you's were all you could physically say before you were fast asleep, sprawled out on top of him as he lay with his eyes nearly closed, tucking your hair away before placing a gentle kiss to your damp forehead.

you knew you could always count on your gyu to satisfy your horniness; on top of all the other ways in which he satisfied you. you were smiling in your sleep as the sun bathed you, his eyes soon fluttering shut.

let's hope you can walk tomorrow... was all he whispered into the damp air with a soft chuckle before falling asleep, chin resting on the crown of your head <3

･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

a/n: if you made it this far, tysm for reading! i got this idea so late at night like... late-night gyu hours omg. nonetheless, i hope you enjoyed! :))

[snowsinterlude]

overprotective, lovesick, deranged.

(yandere coriolanus x reader)

summary: your ex boyfriend couldn't seem to let you go.

if i can't have you, no one can.

trigger.warning: yandere coriolanus, obslove (obsessive love), stockholm syndrome, drugging (no its not for sexual purposes), pregnancy, marriage, horror, depictions to murder (explicit), dubcon, p in v, cockwarming, extremely toxic behavior, unhinged coriolanus, this fanfic contains extreme toxic behavior and too much blood, if uncomfortable with that content, please, don't read it.

"This might get a little messy, I'm sure.

Heads rolling for the one I adore

This may become a little brutal if I'm honest

But it's any-anything for you my dear, I promise"

overprotective.

coriolanus snow was a man of ambition; one of those who won't quiet down until the moment he had what he wanted. this was something that happened to the women he got involved with too.

lucy gray baird was one of those. the moment your now ex-boyfriend was sent to district 12 you could tell something was wrong. you could not care less, though. he wasn't your boyfriend anymore and in your most honest opinion it was something good.

when he came back you were with a different man; one named valentine, who stayed with you when you saw coriolanus kissing lucy gray. who comforted you during this time and who hugged you everynight when the thunders during rain times echoed so hard that made you feel like being killed by one of those.

valentine, who's head was decapitated in front of you.

coriolanus, who was smiling to you as he opened the 'gift' he had prepared to you.

you, who couldn't help but throw up at the sight of your dead boyfriend. you, who passed out by the sick sight of his decapitated head, his eyes opened by strings of a red line, needled carelessly. the same eyes who used to look at you with so much affection and love, now weren't looking at you at all.

when you woke up, your hands were tightly wrapped up in a tight knot that he learned to do as a peacekeeper. strung up reasons.

"good morning, my love." he smiled, kissing your forehead. you were still in the kitchen, dressed in a white dress, you didn't remember putting it on. you didn't like the fabric nor the color of white- it would always get stained too easily. "you finally woke up."

you didn't had to think much to know that what happened wasn't a dream. it was real. he killed your boyfriend.

you opened your mouth, and the scream you left was enough for him to slap you across the face. once you begun to cry, he kneeled in front of you, hands cupping your face as you shaked.

"it's okay baby, snow's here for you,"" he kissed your face, making you melt into crying as hard as you could, sob after sob making your doll heart heavy. "remember you used to call me snowflake?" he asked, and you nodded cowardly, afraid of saying anything that might make him furious. "i'm still your snowflake."

and he hugged you, caressing your scalp as you ugly cried in front of him, but to him, you would never look ugly.

lovesick.

with your face pressed against the mattress, you stared at the gigantic mirror that covered an entire wall, watching yourself.

it's been three months since valentine died, and two months since snow untied you, carried you like a princess bride and bathed you, always murmuring the waltz that played when you both met.

maybe it wasn't so bad after all. he took extra care of you, never slapped you again- it was a relapse. he took care of the red slap mark in your cheek, apploed ointment on you everyday, prepared your favorite meals and left you to your own peace, let you mourn the death of that pathetic boy you decided to date.

it wasn't his fault, right? no- it was. why the hell were you thinking that the victim was the one to put to blame for their own death? are you dumb?

well, you aren't- but you're starting to become.

why were you smiling at him as he showed you the dress he brought you? why did your heart flutter when he made you desserts? c'mon now, he killed your boyfriend. ex-boyfriend?

he wasn't there to protect you now, was he? why would he be important in anyway? of course, he was the sweetest to you, never questioned when you moaned coryo's name instead of his, he knew how hard it was to you.

for fucks sakes, what were you doing? what were you thinking?

coriolanus entered the room he made to you after three knocks, a tray with golden white details on his hand, with two toasts, less than a dozen pancakes that he knew you liked, a cup of strawberry juice and a small bow of green grapes.

once you ate at least half of it and drink the juice, he was by your side, caressing your hair.

"bunny?" he called, taking you off your own state of blankness.

"yes?"

"do you hate me?" you wanted to say yes. wanted to spit on his face for asking such a dumb question after holding you hostage and killing your boyfriend, you truly wanted to.

but you didn’t. "no," and maybe you didn't hated him at all. maybe that juice with the truth-telling pill didn't had much of an effect on you

"hm." he hummed, lips curling into the pretty smile he had. "it's good to know that."

he put the tray aside, laying by your side. why have you been laying like a sick woman at it's death bed? ah. yeah, he didn’t liked the idea of you going away, he said he didn’t want you to leave him. how cute.

you smiled at the thought. then you had to gather all the senses you had left to scold yourself.

it didn't last long though, the moment his hands found your hips and started grinding on you, you felt aroused. you shouldn't be, this was the man that killed your boyfriend. this was the man who slapped you. this was the man who didn't let you go around the house with the excuse that he didn’t want you to leave him.

but of course, your cunt didn't had the same thought that you did. so, by the amount of teasing and the way his soft, slender fingers found your clit almost immediatly, you couldn't help but moan and grind back, feeling as if you were humiliating yourself.

"s-stop that, coryo. please." you said. "i'm still mourning valentine's death-"

"i'm sorry, dove, but your pussy doesn't seem to agree with that." and he rolled your nightgown up, pulled his pants down and finally his dick was grinding against your wetness, the tip teasing your clit as he didn’t went inside, why he wasn't going inside? you needed him in.

your breath hitched at the thought, your hand gripping the sheets as he slowly thrusted, but never inside of you.

"tell me, dove, do you want it in?" he asked, his index finger teasing your clit.

"n..no, i-i don't-" he chuckled at your own lies, you felt like laughing too, the exact moment he kissed your shoulder you had to close your own lips, aware that you would end up smiling at him.

"i don't think you don't want it. tell me, baby, what do you want exactly?"

your breath hitched, you could feel how harder your nipples were compared to before. you shouldn't be wanting this. and you knew that. but you loved him so much.

"y-you. please, i'm sorry, coryo." what were you sorry about? you didn't do anything wrong other than mourn and cry.

"you're forgiven, baby. now, just let me enter you, okay?" you nodded. you were pathetic, that nod was pathetic, looking at you in the mirror was pathetic, seeing how you surrendered so easily to his touch was pathetic- the fact that you were ovulating was pathetic. the fact he knew you were fertile was psychotic, and mostly pathetic cause it was you who let him know about it when you were both dating.

you slurred a long and low moan out of your mouth, your eyes closed shut the second your walls were slowly stretched by his dick, it wasn't as painful as the first time, but you felt like being ripped apart.

dubiously, you let his dick kiss your uterus like never before. you felt so ridiculous when his dick went further into you, when your warm walls squeezed his dick into you, when your pussy felt like gushing and you cockwarmed him with pleasure, and you fucked him back, moving your hips almost like you didn't want him to see you moving.

"you would look so good pregnant, don't you think, baby?" he asked, his hand going upwards and abandoning your clit to pass on your belly. "you'd be so pretty. more than you are already"

you shook your head, panic taking over you.

"p-please, coryo. don't do it, not inside, please. not inside" of course, he didn’t even cared about your mewls, thrusting harder into you, earning a bunch of moans out of your mouth, your voice echoing as he spread your legs and made you look into the mirror to see the mess you were.

your boobs bouncing out of your nightdress, your pussy beautifully welcoming his dick inside your cunt, his balls slapping against your clit due to the pose, and the more you concentreated on the pleasure, you were closer to cumming.

"yeah, keep squeezing me like that, dove" he said into your year, sucking on your neck. you moaned as an answer "i'm gonna fuck my baby's into you."

you squeezed him too tightly, your pussy gushing around him before finally cumming. too good, too good. were all that you could think of.

"such a pretty girl, baby. you will be such a good mom." he said, finally cumming inside of you, the hot seed flowing inside you and leaking a bit.

you turned to see his face, recieving a kiss that you promptly deepened.

you were doomed.

deranged.

his grandma'am was the one to acompany you to the altar. the entire panem was there or outside waiting to see the marriage of the new president snow.

you smiled at him under the veil, your swollen round belly being the one that claimed attention more than anything. you were in fact a beautiful mom, carrying his twin girls in your heart and stomach.

you still loved him after all, who would know?

not even him expected you to say yes, not in the marriage, not at the proposal, and not at any other situation, specially when he was impregnating you.

"do you, mr. snow, accept mrs. y/n as your wife?" the priest asked, a sweet smile on his elderly lips.

"i do."

"and you, mrs. y/n, accept mr. snow as your husband?" he asked to you, and you smiled, cherry lipstick covering your lips.

"i do."

you caved your own grave, and you knew it. but if you died, you would take him with you.

that's what love is about.

[raekensluver]

nightfall temptations (1)

introduction, part one

description: breaking up with your boyfriend, ethan landry, was too easy. he was too understanding, and now you're discovering why.

pairing: dark!toxic!ex!ethan landry x fem!reader

contains: 18+, Minors DNI, dark content, dubcon, slight knife play, name calling (whore), teasing (?), innocence/corruption kink, p in v, p in v from behind, squirting.

song rec: animals by maroon 5- "baby I'm preying on you tonight. hunt you down, eat you alive. just like animals"

w.c: 4.3k

an: sorry this took so long to get out!! this is not proofread!!

the cold steel of ethan's knife glinted in the moonlight, the sound of his voice, now raw and unfiltered, sends chills down your spine.

"you should have seen it coming," he says, his tone smug, "after all, i've been dropping hints everywhere."

your friends had always had a weird feeling about ethan, something they couldn't quite put their finger on. they'd whispered their concerns to you in the safety of your apartment, their eyes darting nervously towards the door as if he might overhear.

"he's just really into the genre," you'd assured them, "it's not like he's actually going to hurt me." but now, with the mask and the knife, their fears feel all too real.

his eyes, the only human part of his face visible through the thin fabric covering the holes in the mask, seem to bore into you.

"you look surprised," he says, his voice still distorted, "i thought you knew i was watching you." your mind reels as you try to process the betrayal.

you take a step to leave, but before you can even blink, his hand snatches you, his grip ironclad. your arm is yanked back, the phone flying from your hand and landing with a clatter on the damp cobblestone.

"going somewhere?" he asks, his tone deceptively light. you stumble, your legs refusing to move as his hand tightens around your wrist.

his touch is cold, the kind that feels like it could freeze the blood in your veins. you struggle, trying to pull away, but his strength is overwhelming. your eyes dart around the courtyard, searching for an escape, a weapon, anything that could help. the silence is deafening, only broken by the sound of your panicked breathing and the thundering of your heart in your ears.

his grip tightens, and you feel a sharp pain as his nails dig into your skin.

"let me go," you plead, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. but he just laughs, the sound echoing off the high walls like a cacophony of nightmares.

"not until you admit it," he says, "not until you admit that you're just like me."

you're frozen, unable to move, unable to think of anything but the cold steel of the knife that glints in the moonlight.

"like you?" you repeat, trying to buy time, trying to figure out what game he's playing.

"yes," he says, his voice low and menacing, "someone who enjoys the thrill of fear."

you bite your lip, tasting the coppery tang of your own blood. deep down, you know he's right. there's always been something about horror movies that's drawn you in, that's made your heart race and your adrenaline pump. but that's just it, you think, it's a movie. it's not real. you've never wanted to be the one running for their life.

"i'm not like you," you spit out, trying to convince yourself more than him.

but as you look into the cold, dead eyes of the ghostface mask, you feel a flicker of doubt. maybe there's a part of you that's thrilled by the danger, that's drawn to the edge of fear. maybe that's why you've been playing his twisted game for so long, hoping each time would be the last.

"prove it," he whispers, his breath hot on your neck. "scared, baby?"

his grip on your wrist is unrelenting, his knife now pressing against the soft skin of your throat. you swallow hard, feeling the cold steel against your pulse.

"no," you murmur, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. "i'm not scared of you." but your racing heart gives you away.

summoning every ounce of courage, you bring your free hand up to the mask, your fingers trembling as they touch the smooth, cold surface. he flinches, but you don't stop. with one swift move, you yank the mask up and off his head. ethan's face is revealed, twisted into a grin that's more terrifying than the ghostface ever was.

his eyes, now wide with surprise and excitement, sparkle with a crazed glint.

"you didn't think i'd really hurt you, did you?" he laughs, but there's a manic edge to it that sends your stomach plummeting. your hand, still clutching the mask, falls to your side. you realize you've been holding your breath and gasp for air.

without warning, he leans in and presses his lips to yours. the warmth of his breath, the softness of his touch, it's all a stark contrast to the cold, hard knife still at your throat. you try to pull away, to look anywhere but at him, but his grip on your chin tightens, forcing you to meet his gaze. the kiss is… nice. unexpectedly tender, like the first time you kissed, before the world went mad.

"don't deny it," he whispers,"you love the rush, the thrill of the chase." his hand releases your chin and slides down to your neck, his thumb caressing the spot where your pulse beats wildly. "we're the same, you and i."

you stare into his eyes, searching for the person you thought you knew. but all you see is the madness lurking beneath the surface.

"i'm not like you," you say, trying to convince yourself as much as him. "i don't want this."

his smile widens, his grip on your wrist loosening slightly.

"you don't know what you want," he whispers, his voice low and seductive. "you crave the fear, the excitement." his hand slides up your arm, sending goosebumps down your spine. "we can have so much fun together, just like in the movies."

despite yourself, you feel your resolve waver. the memory of your first date at the horror film festival, the way you clung to him in the darkened theater, the way your heart raced with every scream. was it just the thrill of the movie, or was there something more sinister lurking in those moments? "

we could be unstoppable," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "the perfect couple, the one everyone talks about."

his hand moves from your wrist to your waist, pulling you closer.

"think about it," he says, his voice a sweet caress. "we could rule this city with fear, become legendary." his words are intoxicating, spinning a web of dark allure around you. for a fleeting second, you consider it. the power, the excitement, the rush of adrenaline. but then you remember the reality of his actions, the fear and pain he's inflicted on others.

you push back, trying to break free from his embrace.

"no," you say firmly, "i don't want that." but he doesn't let go, his grin never wavering.

"you're just scared," he murmurs, his breath warm on your neck. "scared of what you could become." his hand slides up to the back of your neck, his thumb tracing lazy circles, sending shivers down your spine.

his lips are on your skin now, kissing a trail down your neck, the cold air making you shiver. you can feel his excitement, his hunger for fear, for power, and for you.

"stop," you say, your voice shakier than you intend. his kisses are gentle, almost tender, a stark contrast to the knife that's still dangerously close to your throat.

his mouth reaches your collarbone, his breath warm against the coldness of the night. you struggle against him, but his grip is firm, his kisses growing more insistent, more possessive. you're torn between the fear and the strange thrill that's building inside of you. this isn't right, you think, but your body seems to be responding against your will.

he chuckles darkly, his teeth grazing your skin as he whispers, "you had no idea how close i was, did you? all those nights you'd walk home from work, thinking you were alone. all those times you'd sit in your apartment, watching those movies, feeling so safe." his voice is a purr, his breath hot in your ear.

"i was always watching."

his lips move to the sensitive spot behind your ear, nibbling lightly, making you shiver.

"i'd sit outside, watching the lights flicker on and off, wondering what was making you smile, what was making you jump." his words are a seductive caress, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear. "you never knew i was there, baby, never knew that i was just a heartbeat away."

his hand slides up to cup your face, tilting it towards him. he kisses your cheek, your jaw, his teeth scraping gently against your skin. "every step you took, every breath you took, i was there," he whispers, his voice a soft serenade of terror. "i knew your routine better than you did."

his lips find yours again, his tongue probing, insistent. you can't help but gasp into the kiss, the fear and the exhilaration melding into something toxic yet tantalizing. his hands roam your body, his touch feather-light, but leaving a trail of fire wherever he goes. you know you should push him away, but there's something about his words, about the way he speaks of your fear as if it's a shared secret, that keeps you rooted in place.

his knife, cold and unforgiving, glides up your bare inner thigh, the fabric of your dress parting easily under its sharp edge. the sensation sends a shock through you, a mix of terror and arousal that you try to bury deep. "see?" he murmurs, "you love it. you're just like me." his voice is a siren's call, luring you closer to the edge of madness. "every gasp you make, it's like music to my ears."

you're trapped, both by his arms around you and by the sickening fascination his words stir in your soul. you know you should be disgusted, but instead, you're… intrigued. the thought of being part of something so twisted, so powerful, it's like a dark siren's call, beckoning you to embrace the chaos. "we could make them all scream," he whispers, his breath hot and hungry. "every last one of them."

his knife slides up further, grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, sending a jolt of fear and something else through you. something primal, something that makes your stomach flip in a way that's not entirely unpleasant. his hand is now around your neck, his thumb stroking the pulse point, a silent reminder of the power he holds over you. "say it," he murmurs, "tell me you want it."

you lean into his touch, the knife forgotten against your skin. his grip on your waist tightens, his kisses growing more demanding. your mind swirls with images of the horrors you could inflict together, the power you'd wield. your heart races, not just with fear, but with something more primal, more exhilarating.

"yes," you murmur against his mouth, the word slipping out before you can stop it.

his grin widens, his eyes gleaming with victory.

"good girl," he purrs, his hand moving up to your face, stroking your cheek. "you're going to love this." his knife slides away, but you can still feel the coolness of the metal, the promise of pain and fear that lingers in the air. your hands come up to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his cloak, pulling him closer.

his other hand moves to the back of your neck, his grip firm, almost painful. "say it again," he whispers, his voice a mix of excitement and demand. "say you're mine." you stare into the darkness of his eyes, the mask lying forgotten at your feet. something within you snaps, a part of you that you didn't even know existed.

you lean in closer, your breath mingling with his.

"i'm yours," you murmur, the words like a dark vow. his grin widens, his eyes lighting up with a twisted joy. he pulls back slightly, the knife once again pressed against your throat, but the threat is now a promise.

"prove it," he says, his voice a seductive purr.

you kiss him, your lips meeting his with a fervor that surprises even you. his hand slides down your back, pulling you closer, his tongue dancing with yours in a deadly waltz of desire and dread. the knife is still there, a constant reminder of the danger, but it's almost forgotten as the heat between you builds. his hand moves to the zipper of your dress, tugging it down, the fabric parting to reveal your trembling body.

his kisses become more urgent, more possessive, as if he's trying to claim every part of you with his mouth. your hands roam his chest, feeling the fabric of his cloak, the cold steel of his knife still in his hand. you should be terrified, but instead, you're alive with a mix of emotions you've never felt before. his touch is like a brand, searing away your fears, leaving only the thrill of the unknown in its wake.

you help him pull off the cloak, the heavy fabric dropping to the ground with a thud. underneath, he's dressed in all black - a stark contrast to the polos and blue jeans he'd always worn when you were together. it's as if he's shed his old skin, revealing the monster he's become. but instead of repulsing you, it only fuels the fire within. you realize that you've always been drawn to the dark side of him, the side that watched horror movies with a glint in his eye that was more than just amusement.

his hands are on your hips, pulling you closer, his knife abandoned to the floor. there's no gentle touch or sweet whispers - just raw, animalistic need. you can feel the heat radiating off his body, the muscles in his arms tense as he pushes you towards the cold, wet brick wall of the alleyway. you gasp as the roughness of the stones digs into your skin, but the pain is only a distant echo compared to the desire that's consuming you. he's rough, urgent - a stark contrast to the tender, loving embraces you used to share.

his kisses are bruising, his teeth grazing your bottom lip until you taste blood. your heart is racing, the sound echoing in your ears louder than the distant sirens and the patter of rain on the pavement. your hands are in his hair, gripping tightly, as if you could hold onto the last shred of the person you once knew. but this isn't about holding onto the past - it's about letting go, about giving in to the darkness that's been building between you for so long.

the alleyway is slick with rainwater, the smell of damp earth and rotting garbage mixing with the heady scent of lust. ethan's body is hot and solid against yours, his hands exploring every inch of your skin as if he's trying to claim you once and for all. his hands slide under your shirt, the cold air making your skin pebble with goosebumps that have nothing to do with the chill. his tongue traces the line of your neck, leaving a wet trail as he works his way down, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. you moan, the sound muffled by the fabric of his shirt, which you've pulled over his head in a frenzy.

his eyes are dark, the pupils dilated with desire. you look into them, searching for any trace of the boy you fell in love with, but all you see is a creature of the night - wild, hungry, and untamed. you know that you should be afraid, that this isn't what love is supposed to feel like, but you can't help the thrill that shoots through you as he pins you harder against the wall, his hips grinding into yours. it's as if he's marking you, branding you with the intensity of his need.

you can feel the cold brick against your back, the rainwater seeping through your clothes, but the heat between you is too intense to care. his hands are rough, but not painful, as they slip under the band of your pants, and for a brief moment, you wonder if this is what it's like to be claimed by the devil himself. you push the thought aside, lost in the sensation of his touch, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers things that would make any sane person run. but you're not running. instead, you're leaning into him, urging him on.

his fingers find their way inside you, and you gasp, your body responding to his touch despite the chaos around you. the sound is swallowed by the city noise and the darkness, the only light coming from the occasional flicker of a distant streetlight. it's as if the world outside the alley has ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you and the storm of passion raging between you. he moves with purpose, his thumb pressing against your clit in a rhythm that has you bucking your hips against him, desperate for more.

his words are harsh, whispered taunts that cut through the sounds of the alley. "you like it, don't you?" he says, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "you like the way i treat you like a dirty little whore." his voice is low and guttural, a stark contrast to the sweet nothings he used to murmur into your ear. every word is a challenge, a declaration of his dominance over you in this twisted dance. and yet, you can't help but arch into his touch, a whimper escaping your lips as he hits just the right spot.

his hand tightens around your throat, not enough to choke but enough to make you feel his power, his control. "you want me to fuck you like the slut you are," he growls, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "tell me you want it, tell me you're mine to use." the words should repulse you, but instead, they make you wetter, make you want to scream out in agreement. his grip loosens just enough for you to whisper, "yes," a sound that seems to resonate through the night air, a declaration of your newfound subservience to his dark desires.

his other hand, still lodged inside your pants, slows its tempo, teasing you mercilessly. you whine, desperate for the release he's been building, but he pulls away, leaving you trembling and exposed. "beg for it," he commands, his voice a seductive whisper that sends shivers down your spine. you bite your lip, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, but the need is too much. "please," you murmur, the word barely audible over the rain. "please, ethan."

his eyes flare at the sound of his name, and with a feral grin, he yanks your pants down to your ankles, the fabric ripping under his grip. the cold air hits your bare skin, sending a fresh wave of arousal through you. you're left in nothing but your soaked panties, which are quickly torn away by his impatient hands. his eyes devour you, lingering on the wetness between your thighs, and you can't help but feel a twisted sense of pride that you can still turn him on like this.

his own pants are barely shifted down, his cock jutting out, thick and hard. the sight of him like this, raw and unrestrained, sends a shiver of excitement down your spine. you want him, even though you know you shouldn't. even though every fiber of your being screams that this is wrong, that you're not this person, not anymore. but the desire is too strong, the need too overwhelming.

he flips you over, your back to his chest, pressing you against the cold, wet wall. your top rides up, exposing your stomach to the chill, but his body heat quickly envelops you, making you feel anything but cold. your hands come up to brace against the bricks, your breath coming in shallow gasps as he kicks your legs apart. the muddy rainwater pools around your feet, the ground sticky with mud and grime, but you can't bring yourself to care.

his cock nudges against your entrance, and you arch your back, eager for the feel of him inside you. he chuckles, the sound dark and sinister, his breath hot on your neck. "so eager," he murmurs, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. "you're going to take all of me, aren't you?" you nod frantically, the words caught in your throat.

you manage to find your voice, the words a desperate plea. "yes, ethan, please, i need you." it's a lie, but it's what he wants to hear, what will push him over the edge and give you the release you crave. his grip tightens, and with one sharp thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely. your eyes squeeze shut, and a strangled cry escapes your lips. the sensation is overwhelming, the pain mixing with pleasure in a toxic cocktail that has you gripping the wall for support.

he starts to move, each thrust punctuated by a grunt of satisfaction from deep within his chest. you can feel every inch of him, the way he stretches and fills you, the way your body clenches around him despite your mind screaming for it to stop. but your body has a mind of its own, betraying you with every pulse of pleasure. "you're so fucking tight," he murmurs, his voice a dark caress that sends shivers down your spine. "always so eager for me."

you want to talk back, to tell him that this isn't what you want, but the words won't come. instead, you whisper his name again, the only sound you can manage. "ethan," you gasp, your voice a plea that you're not sure he hears. but he seems to, his movements growing more urgent, his teeth grazing your ear as he whispers, "say it again, baby. say my name."

his hand is on your stomach, sliding up to cup your breast. the fabric of your shirt is soaked through, sticking to your skin, but it's no match for his strength. with one quick tug, he rips it away, the sound of the fabric tearing echoing through the alley. your tits are exposed to the cold air, your nipples tightening into hard points that he doesn't miss. his hand squeezes, his thumb rolling over the sensitive peak, sending a bolt of pleasure through you that's almost painful.

you say his name again, your voice a desperate whine. "ethan," you breathe, the word a prayer for release. his response is to drive into you harder, his hips slamming against your ass, the sound of skin on skin echoing off the alley walls. you can feel yourself getting wetter, your body responding to his brutal touch despite the horror of the situation. his hand moves down to your clit, rubbing it in harsh circles that have your legs shaking, your knees threatening to give out.

the sensation builds, a pressure that you know will shatter you, will leave you in pieces on the dirty ground. your eyes squeeze shut, trying to block out the sight of the grimy bricks, the smell of the rainwater and the garbage. but you can't block out the feeling of his cock inside you, the way he's claiming you, the way your body is betraying you. and then it hits, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave, your pussy clenching around him, your juices soaking his cock and running down your thighs.

his chuckles are low, deep in his throat, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine. he's enjoying this, reveling in your degradation, and the knowledge only serves to make your climax more intense. "good girl," he praises, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. "you always were the best fuck i ever had." the words are a slap in the face, a reminder of what you've become, what he's turned you into. but even as the reality of it stings, you can't help the moan that escapes you, the way your body continues to respond to his touch.

his hand moves from your breast to your neck, his grip tightening slightly, reminding you of his control. you're his, and as much as you want to fight it, as much as you want to be free of this twisted mess, there's a part of you that craves it, that wants to be owned by him. with a few more deep, hard thrusts, he reaches his peak, his cock pulsing inside you as he empties himself into you. the warmth of his cum fills you, a stark contrast to the cold that's seeped into your bones, and you feel a twisted sense of satisfaction knowing you've given him what he wanted, what he's always taken from you.

his grip relaxes, his body going slack against yours, and for a moment, you think he's going to hold you, to whisper sweet nothings into your ear like he used to do after sex. but he doesn't. instead, he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and used, the cold air hitting your sensitive flesh like a slap. you don't notice him leaving, the rain and the sound of his footsteps melding together into the background noise of the alley. it's only when he's gone that you realize what's happening, that he's leaving you here, in the dirt and grime, with your dignity in tatters.

slowly, you straighten, your legs wobbly and unsteady. the rain is coming down harder now, soaking through your torn clothes and mingling with your tears. you can't believe you let this happen, that you've sunk so low. but as the anger starts to build, so does the desire, a sick, twisted craving for more of his rough touch, more of his degrading words. you hate yourself for it, but you know you'd do it again if he asked.

taglist: @dreamzaremyrealityy @charvsz @buddhaslover14 @sxyves @r11k4 @jillgirlfriends

[astrophileous]

What about bau!reader who gets shot on a case and Morgan gets angry? like really angry. i leave the rest up to you but i’m kicking my feet and giggling to the thought of morgan getting all angry and mad🤭

if any of you saw this post I made abt agent anderson, it was about this blurb lmao. ty for the request sweetie! I hope this is to your liking 💞

Warning(s): gn!reader, injured reader, talks of gunshot, derek is angry 😠, profanities

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Heavy footsteps thundered along the white stark hallway. People scampered like hunted rabbits when they saw him, but Derek didn't care. Nothing else mattered to him right at that moment except for reaching the destination in his mind.

Emily Prentiss was the first person Derek saw in the pristine waiting room. The black-haired woman stood to her feet the second her eyes landed on him. Emily had never seen such fury in the man's eyes. She didn't think she would even recognize him in this state if it weren't for the familiar face drilling holes straight through her skull.

"Anything?" Derek bellowed, his voice echoing against every available surface in the room.

Emily shook her head.

"How bad is it? Tell me."

"I don't know," the brunette lamented. "They already ushered (Y/N) inside when I arrived. I don't know anything."

"Well, somebody has to fucking know something." Derek started to pace, his posture domineering in the middle of the room. "Where is—"

Before he could formulate the name in his mind, the person in question appeared from the hallway with Spencer hot on his heels. Agent Anderson faltered in his tracks when he spotted Derek in the waiting room, his countenance getting paler as the latter stalked towards him.

"You," Derek seethed. "You tell me what the fuck happened out there, right now."

Anderson couldn't even look at Derek's face without trembling. Spencer stepped in between the two, trying to push Derek away by his shoulder but the older man wouldn't even budge.

"Morgan, this is not the time nor the place," Spencer warned.

"I'm not doing anything. I'm just asking a question," Derek sneered. "Am I right, Anderson? We're just having a conversation, right?"

"R-Right."

"Good. Now tell me what fucking happened."

The atmosphere thickened in the room. Anderson's eyes darted everywhere as if looking for a reprieve. It was a futile attempt, really. There was nowhere that the man could run where Derek couldn't follow.

"It was supposed to be routine questioning. We didn't—we didn't know that the guy had a warrant against him. I only heard the gunshot before I found (Y/L/N) in the backyard."

"Where were you? Why weren't you two together?"

"We... we, uh, we split up."

"You what?"

"(Y/L/N) said—" Anderson stopped himself when Derek proceeded to glower, forcing the younger agent to backtrack and choose his words more carefully, "—like I said, we didn't think the guy was any threat when we arrived. He shot (Y/L/N) and ran while I was calling for help."

The muscles on Derek's face twitched. "So, not only did you put (Y/N)'s life on the line, but you also let the shooter go free?"

"What? I didn't—we weren't—the injury isn't even that fatal!"

Anderson regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. Spencer physically winced after hearing the sentence, and from across the room, Emily was frowning, shaking her head in disapproval as if she was reprimanding her young child.

"I see. It's not even that fatal, is it?"

"T-That's not what I—" gulping down, Anderson tried to scour for his voice, "—I just meant that the, um, the bullet? It didn't even go through. It only grazed (Y/L/N)'s side."

Spencer let out a tired sigh from between them.

"Yeah? You're lucky it didn't go through, Anderson." Derek stepped forward, his index finger blunt but piercing as it fell on Anderson's chest. "Because if the bullet did go through, I would've made sure that you'd fucking pay—"

"Excuse me? Anyone here for (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?"

Derek's threats were cut short by the doctor's appearance in the room. Anderson breathed out his relief as Derek approached the physician.

"I'm the fiancé, Doctor," Derek informed. "Can you tell us anything?"

"Well, I've cleaned and patched up the wound. The bullet only grazed the side so there aren't any shrapnels in it. Just needed a few stitches, really. It could've been worse," the doctor disclosed.

Derek nodded along during her entire explanation. "Can, uh, can I...?"

"Oh! Yes, of course. Just head down this hall. It's the second room to the right."

Derek barely managed to rush out a quick thank you before sprinting down the hallway shown by the doctor. He knocked on the second room to the right, hearing you yell a come in! before he went to open the door.

"Hey, you," Derek said once he was inside the threshold.

You were sitting on a stretcher, your shirt buttoned only at the top as your fingers deftly did the rest. Derek caught a glimpse of the bandage on your side and his heart was in a peril of jumping straight out of his chest. The harrowing feeling was eventually chased away by the sight of your blinding smile.

"Hi, handsome," you greeted.

Your voice was still the same exultant lull that he knew and loved all too well. In fact, if he didn't know any better, there was no visible indication to reveal the horrific encounter that you just went through a couple of hours prior. You looked the same. Normal. Derek allowed the relief to flood as this knowledge dawned on him.

"Why do you look like you just suffered through a massive heart attack?" you asked, bemused as you reached out a palm to his direction.

"Because it feels like I did just have a massive heart attack." Derek accepted your palm and kissed the knuckles before securing your joint hands inside the pocket of his jacket. "You scared the living shit out of me, sweetheart."

"I'm sorry, love. We were blindsided. Didn't mean to worry you."

"You're okay, though?"

"Uh-huh. Just a little sore. And it kinda hurts when I do this." You extended your arm, flinching when a surge of pain instantly ran down your side.

"Stop it. Don't do that. Why would you do that if it hurts?"

"To demonstrate," you replied nonchalantly. "By the way, you shouldn't have been so harsh on Anderson."

"What? How did you know?"

"I didn't. But I know how you are, and your answer just confirmed everything to me." Derek didn't know whether to feel deceived or impressed by what you just said. "You should ease up on him. It's not his fault, you know?"

"I don't know, sweetheart. When two people are paired together and one of them ends up in the hospital with a gunshot wound, I think it's fair to blame the other half of the pair for it, don't you think?"

"But it's the shooter's fault, Derek, not Anderson."

"The shooter may have pulled the trigger, but Anderson didn't have your back." Derek used his free hand to brush a knuckle against your cheekbone. "You wouldn't be here right now if he did."

You huffed an aggravated breath, detangling your fingers from his own in a rebellious act of frustration. "If the situation were flipped, and it was Anderson who lay here instead of me, you would've gone well out of your way to convince me that what happened to him wasn't my fault."

"If the situation were flipped, Anderson wouldn't even be lying on this hospital bed in the first place."

"You don't know that!"

"Maybe. But you don't know what could've happened, either." Derek's hand slipped along your elbow, tugging it gently as he shuffled closer to you. "C'mon, baby. We need to get you home."

"No." You shook his hand away from your arm, getting off the bed as Derek blanched in surprise. "I can do it myself."

Derek watched dumbfoundedly as you staggered towards the table where your jacket, gun, and credentials were stowed. He kept an eagle eye on you as you tried putting on the jacket by yourself, cringing internally when he heard the wretched hiss escaping your lips.

"Okay, baby, stop. That's enough. (Y/N)." Derek snatched the jacket off your back, rearranging its position before helping you slide each arm into the sleeves. "Just let me help you, dammit. Why are you so stubborn?"

"I don't need help from someone who berates other people for fun," you grumbled.

"That's what you think? That I'm doing it because it's fun?"

You paid Derek no regard as you teetered towards the lone chair in the room, sitting yourself down slowly before bending to fix your shoes that had become untied. It turned out to be an arduous feat to do with your injury, and for the next minute, you found yourself shifting into various positions to find one that wouldn't feel like a dozen knives being plunged straight through your flesh.

Across the room, Derek stared at every one of your movements in agony.

"C'mon, baby. Let me do that for you."

"No."

"You're literally in pain as we speak."

"I can take it."

"Why the hell are you doing this?"

"You know why."

Derek sighed.

"Fine," he relented. "I'll apologize to Anderson. Happy now?"

You stopped fiddling with the end of your shoelaces. Your entire face lit up like a kid in a candy store when you found his eyes from the distance. "Really?"

"Yes, really." Derek strode forward, kneeling in front of you so he could help you tie your shoelaces. "Just let me help you when you need me to, okay?"

"Okay!" you exclaimed, leaning down to leave a kiss on Derek's forehead.

Your fiancé had to contain his smile from your adorable but unexpected gesture. "You're lucky I love you, sweetheart."

Even as he said it, Derek knew that deep down, he was actually the lucky one.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Jack Howl: Fluffy is Justice

Me, expecting Jack to be in a tank top and sweat pants:

Twst: HAH, you thought 😩

He looks so cozy! Apparently the patterns featured are inspired by Nordic ones. This makes sense since Jack is from a snowy region in the Shaftlands.

Rise and Shine!

Early to bed, early to rise.

Jack followed his regiment rigidly. He tucked into bed at 10 pm sharp every evening and rose at 6 am every morning. A protein-packed breakfast and a morning stretch, job, and weight-lifting session with Vil later, then he was off to classes. (Ace sometimes poked fun at him and declared he may as well be an honorary member of Heartslabyl.)

But sometimes life didn’t seem to want to cooperate with him.

Peering into a washroom mirror, Jack scowled at his reflection.

He must have been tossing and turning in his sleep—his hair stood on end. It looked as though he had plugged his tail into an electrical outlet, frying his fur.

The teeth of his comb wove through his mane. As soon as the comb retreated, the hair sprang back up again, as if deliberately defying him.

Jack gritted his teeth, letting loose a low growl.

Frustrated.

He checked his phone and nearly jumped out of his cardigan. He had spent longer than he had intended tackling his hairdo. If he didn't hurry it along, he would be late.

Can’t have that, Jack sighed. Guess I’ll have to skip fixing the hair today.

He laid down his comb and turned on the facet. Cold water spilled out and onto his hands.

SPLOOSH!

Jack ran his wet fingers through his hair, matting it with the weight of the water. Tamed, at least for the time being.

He blitzed through the rest of his routine, peeling off his pajamas and shimmying into his P.E. uniform. Grabbing a protein bar and his duffel bag--crammed full of his school supplies and his track and field uniform--Jack rushed out. No tardies on his permanent record, not today.

He was fast. A wolf sprinting, unrestrained, out of the Chamber of Mirrors and thundering down Main Street.

"Like the wind," Coach Vargas would remark.

"I have to catch up," Deuce, his fellow club member, would say.

"Way too eager," Ruggie would snicker.

"Jack!"

He came to a half at his name, his ears perking. There, standing by the statue of the King of Beasts, was a familiar face. You waved at him as he approached, a hand fiddling with the strap of his bag. It snapped against his beefy shoulder.

"... Hey. You're up early," he remarked gruffly.

"I wanted to catch you before you met up with Vil-senpai for your usual workout," you grinned. "Glad I did--I have something for you."

Reaching into your backpack, you produced a water bottle and a small container. Inside were sandwiches sliced into triangles: leftover canned tuna (courtesy of Grim), ham and cheese, and vegetables.

Surprise sparked in his amber eyes. His tail jutted up, wagging excitedly. "You made this for me?"

"I figured you'd need to keep your energy up since you've got a whole day of lectures afterwards," you said bashfully. "Sorry, did I overstep?"

"No, I... I don't think so at all." Jack cleared his throat. "Really. I appreciate this. I didn't pack any real food today. The timing couldn't be better."

Relief washed over your face. You offered the water and the sandwiches to Jack, who stiffened slightly when he felt the warmth of you grazing his fingers. He quickly pulled away, avoiding your gaze, and busied himself with shoving the snacks into his bag.

"Oh....!" you suddenly gasped.

"What's wrong?"

"Your hair, it's..." You gestured to your own.

"Yeah, I know it's a mess," he mumbled, his ears flattening in shame. "Didn't have the time to style it right earlier. I had to compromise."

You shook your head.

"It looks different than usual, but that's not bad. In fact, it's kind of cute."

"What? Cute...?" He scratched his chin. "Not sure if I'm getting it."

"Yes! It looks super fluffy, like a cloud. Or whipped cream on top of ice-cream or cake," you suggested. "And cuz it's sticking up so much, it's like it's inviting someone to come along and pat your head to smooth it down."

"Pat my head?!" His hands flew there, as if to protect him from the terror that was an aggressive head pat.

"You don't like the idea?"

"I-It's embarrassing!" he snapped. "Only my family goes and does stuff like that. I'm getting too old for head pats, anyway."

"That's a shame then. Fluffy things should be cuddled more! Fluffy is justice, after all." You linked your fingers together and chuckled. "Fluffy means plushies, blankets, and coats. All the things that make us feel warm and protected. It fills our hearts with happiness. You're the same, Jack. So... I don't think it's anything to be embarrassed by."

He stared at you, bewildered.

The sun warmed his cheeks--or were they warmed from within? And there it was again, the telltale way his tail moved, back and forth and back and forth, like a metronome.

"I... I guess so," Jack managed to say. “A-Anyway, I need to get going. I can’t keep Vil-senpai waiting.”

“Alright, I won’t keep you for any longer.” You gave another wave and a smile brighter than the sun. “Good luck!”

He nodded before surging off.

His face aflame.

Maybe being fluffy wasn't so bad after all.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 48 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is just trying to make it to the weekend. When he realizes he needs to visit Meredith, he's starting to feel like his sanity is hanging on by a thread. At least he has you, and he knows he can trust you implicitly. And maybe this will give him the kind of closure he didn't know he needed.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, mention of abortion, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Afternoon rain clouds had rolled in, making the city look darker than normal. You noticed right away that the usual sunlight wasn't coming in the windows at work, and it was putting everyone in a strange mood. Even the tiny patients you were taking care of seemed to be crying a little bit more than usual. 

You needed to leave soon to pick up Noah which required you to cancel your nail appointment. Bradley didn't even tell you why he'd be late, he just said he would be. It wasn't that you didn't trust him, you just wanted to know that he was okay, but you hadn't heard from him again.

As soon as you walked outside and headed for your car, it started pouring rain. It was so unexpected, you started laughing. You couldn't even remember the last time you'd had a rainy day. Maybe if the lightning and thunder held off, you could take Noah outside to play in it. But as you opened your car door and ducked inside, a streak of jagged light went shooting across the sky. 

"Damn," you muttered, carefully driving through the parking lot. You thought about Skittles home alone in her crate. She must be terrified all alone right now, and at this rate, it was going to take you longer than usual to get to Noah. Traffic was backed up like crazy, because nobody knew how to drive in this. You sat at the same red light for three cycles before you were finally able to move at all, and by the time you reached Noah's daycare, it was almost time for them to close.

You dashed out through the rain and inside the building where you were confronted with Casey while you looked like a drowned rat. "Common sense would tell you to use an umbrella when it's raining," she said sweetly as you started to shiver in the air conditioning. 

"It's San Diego," you replied coolly. "It never rains here."

She made a production of leaning past you to look out the door. "I think you're wrong, but I can't be certain." She set the clipboard down on the counter and turned away from you as she said, "Poor Noah is going to get completely soaked."

You rolled your eyes as you signed your name a little bit aggressively. It's not like the child would melt. If Bradley came to pick him up instead of you, there was no doubt in your mind that Casey would have bent over backwards to make sure there was an umbrella for him to use. But since it was you, she just stood there with her arms crossed as you scooped Noah up.

"You ready to get a little wet, sweet Noah?" you asked him, kissing his cheek. "It's really raining hard."

He squealed in delight as you ran to your car with him, but you ended up getting a lot more soaked than he did. Your scrubs were clinging to your body when you finally closed the drivers' door behind you. "How about we go home, get dried off and snuggle under a blanket while we watch Mickey Mouse?"

"Yes!" cheered Noah. Maybe you'd just order a pizza later when Bradley got home. You were wet and tired and just wanted to relax. 

"Okay. Here we go."

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

Bradley was a nervous mess on his way to see Tracy. "Come on," he groaned, trying to fight his way through the traffic downtown to get to her office in the rain. He should have left base as soon as he was grounded for the rest of the afternoon, but everyone started talking shop, including the admirals, and he didn't want to leave too early. 

The array of invasive thoughts plaguing him at the moment was making his stomach churn. Every image in his mind was worse than the last. He was itching to call the First Bank of San Diego, but he thought he'd better talk to Tracy about it first. Reeking of jet fuel that was only made worse by getting his flight suit soaked in the rain, he rode the elevator up to her office. It was kind of late, and the building was mostly empty, but sure enough, the lights were shining brightly in her suite. 

When he walked through the first set of glass doors, Tracy leaned out of her office door with a completely neutral expression on her face. "Hi. Come on back."

Bradley closed the distance in a few long strides. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I really didn't want to have to see you today. And I don't have my checkbook with me."

Tracy shook her head and gestured toward the small conference table before she grabbed a Red Bull from her refrigerator. "I'm not billing you for this."

Bradley's heart took a nosedive as he sank down into one of the chairs. If she wasn't even collecting payment, this must be worse than he thought. "Just get it over with, please. What's going on? Did Meredith open an account in my name or something?" he asked. Then he gripped the edge of the table. "In Noah's name? Fuck! Did she figure out a way to fucking bankrupt me?"

He was about to be sick. Once again, he was kicking himself for never taking all of these precautions earlier, right after Meredith left him with a three month old. There would have been ways to safeguard both of them from this sort of thing, but he would have never believed Meredith was capable of doing what she did before. She probably took out a mortgage or opened a credit card. She would have had easy access to Bradley's banking information and social security number. It had been ages since he checked his credit score.

Tracy was offering him a Red Bull, but she slowly pulled it away from him like it was the last thing in the world he needed as he gripped her table so hard, the whole thing was vibrating a little bit.

"Take a deep breath, Bradley. It's nothing so extreme," she assured him in a calm voice as she pried his fingers away from her furniture. "Meredith opened an account right after Noah was born and put a few thousand dollars into it."

Bradley clasped his hands in his lap and thought back a few years. Meredith had been happy for a little while. She seemed to warm up to the idea of Noah, and after he was born and they had a tiny newborn at home, she was very involved. But as the weeks wore on, Bradley noticed her involvement slipping while he was the one picking up all the loose ends and working full time. 

"I don't remember anything about a bank account," he told Tracy. "What does this have to do with me exactly?"

She took a drink before she said, "You're listed as a custodian on the account. Technically the money was put in Noah's name, but since he's a minor, he can't handle it himself."

His brow was furrowed as he shook his head. "I'm still confused. Isn't it Meredith's account?"

"Yes and no," she replied. "Once she put your name and social security number on the line below hers, she made you liable for the money, too. And the bank must have uncovered that Meredith is incarcerated. This happens from time to time. When they couldn't reach her, they found her lawyer's information on the court docket. And then her lawyer called me. Apparently your address wasn't listed."

Bradley felt like his head was swimming with information. "So you're telling me I can go to the Coronado branch of the First Bank of San Diego tomorrow and get this money out?"

"Potentially," she replied mildly.

He thought for a beat before he asked, "Is Meredith still entitled to the money? Even though I have sole custody of Noah?"

"Sure. Her name is also on the account." She shrugged and checked the time. "It's not quite six yet. Should we call the bank and find out exactly what's going on?"

"Yeah," he agreed, reaching for his phone. It would be better to do this with her here so he could make sure he got all the information he needed. "Should I just put it on speaker?"

She nodded as she finished her drink and tossed the can into her already overflowing recycle bin. He tapped on the number of the missed calls from earlier and waited while it rang. "First Bank of San Diego corporate offices, this is Belinda. How can I help you?"

Bradley cleared his throat. "Uh, hi, Belinda. My name is Bradley Bradshaw, and I missed some phone calls earlier? I... was hoping you could answer some questions about an account?"

"Please hold."

He looked at Tracy who seemed completely unfazed by all of this as she examined her manicure. It was great that she was always able to stay so calm, but his heart was thundering up into his throat. He wasn't about to believe there weren't a thousand credit cards maxed out in his name until he investigated it all for himself.

"This is Barry."

Bradley didn't know quite what to say as he cleared his throat again. "Hi, this is Bradley Bradshaw. I'm actually here with my lawyer, and I missed some calls earlier?"

"Right, yes," came the man's voice along with the sound of him typing on a keyboard. "We were trying to reach you regarding an account that was opened with your minor child listed as a beneficiary. Information would have been mailed to you, but we did not have an associated address on file."

"Can you tell us more about the account?" Tracy asked, and Bradley was relieved that she knew what to do.

"Well, I can tell you that once an account reaches over $15,000 without any activity in the prior three years, we make a courtesy phone call to see if the owner wants to move any of the funds."

"Fifteen thousand?" Bradley asked, running his fingers through his hair anxiously. "That account has fifteen thousand dollars in it? And she never touched it?"

Barry was silent for a beat. "I really can't provide much more information unless you visit one of our branches in person, sir."

"Shit," Bradley muttered, leaning back in his seat and staring at the ceiling. 

"Sounds great, Barry. Thanks for your time," Tracy said before she ended the call for him. "You need to go to the bank. Can you go tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Bradley grunted. "So... there's money just sitting there that potentially belongs to Noah through me?"

"Sounds like it."

Bradley met her eyes. "And I can just take it out? And move it into a different account?"

Now she looked a little apprehensive. "I wouldn't advise you to do it quite that way."

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

You let Noah play out in the rain with Skittles for approximately five minutes while you stood inside the backdoor and watched. He had bugged so long and so hard, you caved. But as soon as you heard a rumble of thunder, you ran out and picked him up where he was splashing in a puddle in his dinosaur rain boots while the tiny pup barked. You got soaked all over again in the process, but you carried him inside as lightning flashed across the sky. 

"It's getting too stormy!" you told him over all the noise. "Time to go in!"

You grabbed a towel from the stack you left on the kitchen table, and Noah let you fuss over him. You wrapped Skittles in a towel when she started to shake from the cold air conditioned temperature inside, and eventually all three of you ended up on the couch under a blanket with cartoons playing. There was no sign of Bradley, but when you texted and asked him to bring pizza home, he agreed right away. 

Anything my Princess wants.

You smiled at your phone as you sat with Noah on your lap and Skittles on his lap. Every few minutes, you buried your nose in his fresh smelling hair and inhaled as you gave him a squeeze. "When's Daddy coming home?" he asked as the sky outside just got darker as the evening wore on. "I'm hungry."

"Soon," you promised him, but it had gotten so late, you were about to make Noah a snack when you finally heard a key in the front door lock. 

Skittles was the first one who jumped down from the couch. "Daddy!" Noah launched off of your lap and ran to the door as Bradley kicked it open. His hair and flight suit were basically soaked, but he was holding a pizza and a container of salad with a coffee cup balanced on the top. His handwriting on the cup was wet, and the marker was starting to run, but you could still read Princess. And he looked absolutely exhausted. 

"Hey, Bub," he mumbled, kneeling to kiss Noah while he balanced everything in one hand. "You having fun with Mommy?"

Even Bradley's voice was laced with fatigue that you could practically feel as you stood and went to him. You kissed his wet cheek and whispered, "Thank you," as you took the food and your coffee cup from his hand. He just looked at you and nodded, and you gave him a minute with Noah and Skittles as you took the food to the kitchen and got more clean towels. He was just taking off his boots when you returned and asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

He grunted as he took the towels from you and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can we wait until Noah's in bed?"

You really did not want to wait another hour, but you agreed anyway, and Bradley kissed your lips before he ran a towel over his face and hair. "Thanks, Baby," he whispered as you gave him a minute to get changed. You took Noah into the kitchen and started to cut up a slice of pizza for him. You were just adding a liberal amount of dressing onto the salad when Bradley walked in wearing gym shorts and a black undershirt that hugged his perfect torso, fresh from a quick shower.

"I love that about you," he crooned next to your ear, his hands soft on your waist as he nodded at the salad.

You laughed and said, "I know you do, Daddy." You were tempted to crawl onto his lap and try to make him feel better while he ate, because he'd clearly had a stressful day. With a quick glance at Noah where he was getting sauce all over his face, you decided to settle into your own seat with a piece of pizza and half of the salad. Bradley stacked two slices together and ate them at the same time in about ten bites. 

"You really had a bad day, huh?" you asked, breaking off a piece of your crust and eating it. 

He shook his head, brow scrunched in something like concern as he watched his son eat. "Not exactly. Just very long."

Once all the food was gone, you sipped your coffee while you cleaned up. Bradley would have normally done that, but when Noah asked to play blocks with him, you sent them into the living room. You could hear the block towers go clattering to the floor over and over again as Noah giggled. The rain hadn't tapered off, and you were already starting to yawn by eight o'clock. That's when Bradley poked his head into the kitchen with Skittles held in one big hand.

"Hey, Baby. I'm going to get Noah ready for bed, and then we can talk in the living room?"

You nodded and finished loading the dishwasher before curling up with the blanket on the couch. Bradley brought Noah in for a goodnight kiss and then vanished again. By the time he returned empty handed, you were half asleep, but you climbed onto his lap after he sat down. "What's going on?" you asked, your cheek cradled on his shoulder and your lips brushing his neck. You could feel his soft length against your thigh through his gym shorts, and you let your hand settle low on his abs.

He cleared his throat softly and whispered, "I need to go to Las Colinas Detention Facility either tomorrow or Wednesday." A chill rippled through your body even though you were tucked in his warm embrace. You jerked yourself back so you were looking him in the eye as he added, "I need to talk to Meredith."

All you could picture was the stress you saw on his face months ago when she dragged him through the court battle over Noah. You grabbed at your arm where you'd gotten all cut up when you fell in the parking lot at Meyer Park. You could practically still feel and hear all of the pieces of broken glass crunching beneath your feet when you found that your apartment had been broken into. 

"Why?" you gasped as tears stung at your eyes. A sick feeling settled into your belly, and all you could do was repeat the question, "Why?"

"Shh. It's okay, Princess," he promised, kissing your cheeks and the tears you weren't even aware you'd shed. "I'm going to make sure it's okay."

You were nodding and shaking a little bit as you listened to him explain that Meredith had opened an account when Noah was a baby. Apparently there was a substantial amount of money now, and Bradley's name was also on the account. "It makes me feel like, even just for a little while, Meredith actually cared about Noah," he whispered, and now you saw tears in his eyes too before he tipped his head back against the couch. "I have a lot of mixed feelings about this, but I guess it's not all bad."

You swallowed down the discomfort you felt and whispered, "You loved her then. And she loved you. And Noah. I mean... she was his mom."

Bradley lifted his head up and tightened his grip around your waist. "You are Noah's mom," he insisted, and you immediately burst into tears. "That's how I want it. That's how Noah wants it. That's how you told me you want it. And that's not going to change. But I just feel like Noah should have this money from Meredith."

You nodded as he wiped at your tears. "He should," you sobbed. "But why do you have to go to Las Colinas? Why can't you just withdraw it?"

Now Bradley let his forehead come to rest on your shoulder, like he needed the comfort associated with being close to you. "I could do that, but I stopped to talk to Tracy, and she thinks that would do more harm than good. There's a simple form I can get from the bank tomorrow after I talk to someone about the exact amount in the account. The plan is for me to take the form to Las Colinas myself, talk to Meredith, and ask her to sign it and effectively forfeit the funds over to me. That way there could be no questions asked."

"And what if she won't sign it?"

He kissed your cheek. "Then you and I can decide if I should withdraw the cash and move it to a different account or just leave it there and pretend it doesn't exist."

You were struck once again by the way Bradley made all of his decisions for you and with you. He treated you with respect when he made plans, and he valued your opinion. "Do you want me to come with you? To the bank or to see Meredith? So you don't have to do it alone?"

His lips and mustache were tickling your jaw as he said, "No. Tracy and I agreed I should go alone. And I really want you to take care of Noah after work so that's one less thing I have to worry about." He kissed you softly. "But thank you for offering."

And that's how you fell asleep, on his lap with his lips pressed to your skin.

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

Bradley couldn't be sure if it was his khaki uniform, but it definitely seemed to help his cause. When he got to the bank after work on Tuesday, he was called right back to a small office where an agent started helping him. "Okay, Lieutenant Bradshaw, let's check this account balance for you," she said as she typed in his social security number. "You are looking at $17,271.28. Would you like to transfer it to a different account?"

He just gaped at her. That could pay for a year of college for Noah. "Actually... I'm going to need to think about it," he replied, and a little while later he left her office with a single piece of paper. 

He started the thirty minute drive out of the city to the women's correctional facility. You were probably leaving work right now. Maybe you were pulling into the daycare parking lot. Either way, he didn't have to worry about his son when he was with you. Instead, he could focus on what he needed to do right now, because he was having some mixed feelings about taking this money at all. But if it was actually intended to be used for Noah, then he wanted to give Meredith the opportunity to do the right thing. 

After he parked, he waited in line to be searched before entering the building. Here, his uniform did absolutely nothing. In fact, he had to remove his belt and all of his pins and leave them in a little tray in the front office before going though another metal detector. When an officer asked who he was there to see, she looked surprised when he said Meredith's name. 

"Right," she replied, leading him toward a small waiting area. "Sit in here, and I'll call you in if she wants to see you."

He eased himself down onto a metal chair that was bolted to the floor and started to sweat. If Meredith wouldn't even talk to him, then he was going to have to leave the money where it was. He wouldn't be able to bring himself to touch it. He was starting to resent even coming here, because this week was supposed to have been a fun one with the air show coming up on Saturday and the hospital tour on Friday night. He could have just told Tracy and everyone at the bank that he didn't care about the money.

"Bradshaw?" called a different officer, and Bradley stood. Well. Apparently she was willing to talk to him after all. A door was held open for him and then another one. He was scanned into a narrow hallway, and once that door closed behind him, he was scanned into a room with a large number '3' on it. 

And there sat his ex in a gray jumpsuit with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her sleeves were rolled up her forearms, her hair was longer now, and frankly she looked a lot better than he was expecting. Her eyes tracked his every move as she crossed her arms over her chest and said, "Bradley."

He sat in one of the two chairs that were once again bolted to the floor, and his knees almost hit hers as he did so. "Meredith. How are things?" he asked for a lack of anything better coming to his mind.

"What are you doing here?" she asked immediately, leaning a little closer to him. "What do you want?" When he hesitated with his answer, she laughed and shook her head. "You wouldn't be here if you didn't need something from me, so just spit it out."

He shifted in his seat and withdrew the sheet of folded paper from his pocket. "You opened a savings account for Noah right after he was born? I had no idea it existed. The bank just started trying to reach out to me, because you put my name on the account as well," he stated as he tried to hand her the paper. 

She stared at him, eyes wide as her cheeks flushed pink, but she said nothing, and she didn't move at all. 

"I'm assuming you forgot about it," he added. 

Meredith finally took the paper from him as she said, "Why didn't you just take the money then?" She seemed to begrudgingly move her icy stare from his face to the page as she unfolded it and started to read. Bradley knew if she signed it, she would be willingly forfeiting the funds. She would know the exact amount of money and offer it up on her own. He knew he shouldn't feel guilty about asking her to do this, but he kind of did anyway. And now that he was looking at her, he knew he couldn't just do it behind her back if she didn't sign.

"I wanted you to know about it before I did it," he told her softly. "I wanted to ask you why you put the money in the account in the first place."

She refolded the paper and once again met his gaze. "I originally opened the account so someday Noah could go to business school like me instead of joining the Navy like you."

Bradley nodded and almost wanted to smile. "Makes a lot of sense." He took a deep breath and whispered, "You were excited when you were pregnant. You were excited when he was a newborn."

Meredith closed her eyes and shook her head as she held her hand up in front of her. She didn't look at him as she said, "I tried, but I couldn't do it. You were better at all of it than I was, and I fucking hated it more and more every day. I hate being at home. I hated having to feed Noah and change diapers while you went back to work. I hated it so much. The four months that I took off completely ruined my career, and I was never able to recover. And that's where I was happiest."

Bradley nodded and clasped his hands in his lap. Her next sentence hurt him to hear, but she had every right to say it. "I think it would have been better for me if I'd had abortion. I think I could have been happy right now if I did." She kind of shrugged, barely looked at him and then turned toward the corner of the ceiling. Bradley followed her gaze as she loudly said into a camera, "Can somebody bring me a pen? I swear I won't stab him with it."

Bradley was afraid to say anything yet, and nobody appeared with a pen right away. Meredith read over the sheet of paper again, and eventually she said, "This was the only account I added your name to. Don't go sniffing around my bank for more, because you won't get it."

"Right," he replied, finding her words almost comical since she was the one trying to fleece him earlier this year. 

"And every cent goes into a savings account for college tuition for him. A university or a trade school or something. Anything except the Navy. And none of it goes to that disgusting little slut you're living with now."

Bradley had to bite back his response as the door opened, and an officer walked in with one black ink pen. She handed it to Meredith and stood next to her while she signed the form, and then the officer collected the pen once more before leaving the room. He was honestly a little shocked, but he accepted the paper when she handed it to him.

"Thank you," he told her, deciding not to mention that you were going to be his wife and Noah's legal parent sooner rather than later if he had anything to say about it. She really didn't need to know about that, because she didn't have any say in the matter. "I'll save it for Noah for school. And if he wants to join the Navy like a real idiot, then I'll donate it all to your alma mater. But just... thanks for signing for it."

She nodded. "You were going to be able to take it anyway. At least now you'll cooperate with its original intended purpose."

Once again, he wasn't going to waste his time arguing with her by trying to say that he would have left the money untouched. He didn't need her to believe anything he said except that he'd save her money for Noah. "I will absolutely do that."

"I know you will."

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

Well, well, well. What do we have here? Proof that Meredith cared at one time? Please ignore any financial inaccuracies, I tried my best. Aaaaand, onward to the air show. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 49

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[redsrooftopprincess]

Gravity (Part 1)

Hi there! This is my first fic ever. I hope you like it. 🫣

Nothing spicy, gn reader x Raphael.

Part 2 Part 3

You look up as a heavy impact comes from overhead, heralding his arrival.

He'd called you at the beginning of the season to let you know that you couldn't see each other for a few weeks. He was hesitant to explain why, but relented when you reminded him that you've never blinked twice at his "fucked up turtle shit" (his words, not yours).

He'd said that emotions run high between the four of them and fuses are shorter than they would be otherwise. In reality, he knows that spending *any* amount of time with you during the season would make keeping a lid on his feelings that much harder.

Hormones suck no matter what species you are, and this year the season was hitting *hard*. It was making him think and feel and need things that didn't exist. That couldn't.

Despite what those weird romance novels would have you believe, mating season is less like Viagra on steroids, and more like cracking open your shell and exposing your heart to the raw unfiltered injustice of your existence. There was the physical need for release, sure, that was a given. But the other part of them, whatever part made them almost human, wanted more. Wanted a life. A real life.

Raphael wanted that life with you. He wanted to wake up next to you every morning, and hold you while you fall asleep every night. He wanted to make love to you with the sunrise, and see the dawn painted on your skin. He wanted *everything*. And he knew that if he were in that room with you right now he would tell you *everything*.

He's a realist. He knows what he is, and the reality of all the things that come with it. And you are not one of them. So, he tells himself he's content with how things are, that he doesn't want so much more. Most days, he believes it.

You pick up your phone and frown, concerned when you notice the time, before tapping his name. He's early. It takes him a moment to pick up.

"Hey," he rumbles quietly into the receiver. He sounds tired.

"Hey," you say gently, "slow night?" Your voice is slightly dampened. You're laying in bed. Raphael closes his eyes and breathes deep, trying to picture anything else.

"Distracted..." He says, and sighs, "Not safe to be out there when my head's somewhere else."

"Where's your head?" you ask, idly flipping through the pages of the book you'd been reading.

You almost miss it, it's so soft it almost bleeds into the night, but the weight of it falls like a hammer.

"Here."

You still. Your eyes look up at the ceiling as if you can see him through the concrete. He sounds resigned, shameful, as if the word spilled out unbidden. As if it held every word he never said. As if you hadn't been dancing around your own feelings for the past two years.

He was the best thing that had ever happened to you. After he'd crash landed into your world, for the first time in your life you'd felt safe and cared for and...

How did you not see it?

It takes a moment for you to find your voice.

"Raphael-"

"Don't invite me in," he interrupts. His voice feels like thunder, the promise of a storm, and you try to ignore the gooseflesh that scatters across your skin.

"Why not?" your voice is a whisper, and you almost hate how breathless you sound.

He hesitates, exhaling before taking a slow, measured breath.

"Because I won't say 'no.'"

[gce-hiiragimare]

Memory and magic are sealed (for now)

She's acting more and more like that person, and Emma had to in order to keep Gynger from ending up like that person.

Prior to that, Gynger had been missing for two years (since after Hogwarts graduation) One of the reasons Sebastian chose to become an Auror was also to find her. At first Sebastian's job wasn't all that special, some minor wizarding strife, some dark wizards who had gone astray, and so on, until slowly, more and more names of Valtyci's appeared on the list of dead people, and he'd even heard that the squib of the Valtyci's had risen from the dead, and that it was she who'd killed them.There'd also been some disturbances on the Ominis' side of the family, because the Gaunt family has been in a relationship with the Valtyci family for years, and now more people are dying, Ominis is being asked to find out what's going on.

Sebastian vaguely thinks that these things have something to do with Gynger, because during a pursuit operation, his magic was almost able to hit the murderer, but in a flash, his blood alliance vial with Gynger suddenly reacted, the chain tightly wrapped around Sebastian's arm, and the sudden tingling sensation caused Sebastian to stop the attack in his hand.Ominis was puzzled by this.Ominis was puzzled by this, they were obviously about to catch the culprit, why did Sebastian stop at the critical moment, "What are you doing? Why did you stop? It's not like you to do anything."

"I ......"Couldn't tell Ominis about the fact that he'd made a blood pact with Gynger. At least, not yet, "I might be a little dizzy, sorry."Sebastian apologised. His heart was pounding, could that be Gynger?

"I need your help, you're investigating this aren't you, one by one the Valtyci family personnel have been killed."Suddenly one day, Emma, a former champion of the Triwizard Tournament, came to the Ministry of Magic to find Sebastian.

"You know exactly who did this, don't you?"Emma asked Sebastian, "It was Gynger. although she did it at first to help avenge her mother, now she's gone a little too far and we need to stop her. You want to find her too, don't you?"

Of course, Sebastian wanted to see Gynger like crazy, he hadn't heard anything about her in the past two years, it was like she had suddenly disappeared from the world. He even tried to write to her as usual, however these mountains of letters simply wouldn't reach her. There was a time when he felt like he was going to break down, and instead of going to work at the Ministry of Magic for days on end, he lay in bed and kept stroking their Blood Alliance vials, and it was only when the Ministry asked Ominis to go to Sebastian's house to see how things were going that he managed to make things better.

"I'll help you."Sebastian immediately agreed to Emma's request, he didn't care what Emma wanted him to do, he would do anything to see Gynger.

With only the last branch of the Valtyci family now left on the list of surviving members, Sebastian and Emma arrived at their mansion early. However, it seemed they were still a step too late.

"Congratulations! My loves."A white haired woman sat on the stairs of the main hall, "I knew you would come, miss me?"

Sebastian looked over at the woman on the stairs, his heart began to beat wildly, he had a feeling that it was Gynger, but the likeness was a little different.

"Ah, you care about that?"The person seemed to notice Sebastian's gaze as she pointed to her cheek, "I like the look of my mother."As he spoke, a bolt of lightning streaked through the window, the harsh light of the thunder reflecting the original colour of the person's hair - a familiar, flame-like red. "I want all the Valtyci family to see that face before they die."

"Enough! You're looking more and more like that person, wake up!"Emma led the attack, but Sebastian froze in place. The person he had been longing for was right in front of him and he didn't want to perform any actions at all, there were so many things he wanted to say to her, so many questions he wanted to ask her, he even wanted to use the spell Accio to take the person into his arms and hold her tightly. Why did she leave without saying goodbye?Gynger used to be a very cheerful companion, but ever since she went on a trip to her aunt's house a few days before graduation, everything changed.Gynger started to be quiet, and didn't even attend the graduation ceremony, she just left Hogwarts without a word. What the hell happened?

"What are you gawking at?"Ominis's voice came to her ears, it turned out that Emma had already known that Sebastian and Gynger had made a blood oath (Emma's divination ability was excellent, she had foreseen this scene in her crystal ball), she knew that Sebastian probably couldn't move, so Emma contacted Ominis as well.Ominis's eye disease was still not getting better, but his hearing was excellent, andhis wand, having been subjected to more refined adjustments after graduation, Ominis was now no less capable than an accomplished Auror.

The intense magical duel continues, and even with Emma and Ominis' excellent abilities, they still struggle to resist Gynger's ancient magic. Sebastian also finally came back to his senses, but it seemed that he chose to side with Gynger. After all, he can't attack Gynger, and he doesn't want to send Gynger to Azkaban. But facing his former best friend, he couldn't do anything to kill him, so he could only try to create a magic shield for Gynger.

"Sebastian? What are you doing?"Emma looked at Sebastian who was standing on the opposite side, "We're losing!"

"Ah, you're really going to help me after all, I'm so happy!"Gynger looked towards Sebastian who was walking towards him And just then Emma aimed for the opening, she pulled out a small black crystal and used the shockwave of magic to hit Gynger with it The moment Gynger was hit the space around her began to distort and a piercing noise began to emanate from her surroundings. She began to hold her head and scream in agony, it seemed to be an unbearable magic, like the crucio spell. She fell through the air and onto the marble floor Seeming to pass out, everything was calm again, except that the objects around Emma and the others seemed to start disintegrating and dissipating.

Sebastian saw Gynger fall to the floor and rushed over to her, taking her in his arms, "What did you do to her?"Sebastian questioned Emma

"I sealed her memories and magic."Emma seemed a little helpless, "I'm sorry, it's all I can think of at the moment. Her soul seems to be gradually on the verge of being taken over by another, and it's the only way I can find a way to change her back to her old self."

"You mean ...... she doesn't remember me?"Sebastian froze, he looked again at the passed out person in his arms, the one he had longed for, his once best friend. They had been through so much and now they were all going to forget?

"It's only temporary, I'll try to restore her memory when I find a better solution, it's just ......" Emma hesitated a little, "The Ministry of Magic will make you hand over the prisoner while I'm gone, right? "

"Can't let the Ministry of Magic take her."Sebastian lowered his head and hugged Gynger tightly, "She'll be fine with me, don't worry."Just as Gynger didn't turn him in back then, this time, he wouldn't turn Gynger in either, and more importantly, he didn't want to be separated from Gynger. The longing for two years had finally been relieved at this moment, and he wouldn't let her go again.

[yan-lorkai]

Hi Lorkai! I really like your work! I hope I'm not breaking any rules, but could I request something?

So, Malleus hatched from an egg, right? I was thinking about a dragon egg magically appearing in his bed while he sleeps. When he sees it, he knows it's his and his darling's baby. Like, the egg manifests because he loves his darling VERY MUCH.

What do you think he would do next? Would he tell his darling about their baby, or keep it a secret? Would he use the egg to baby-trap his darling?

If you're uncomfortable writing this request, feel free to ignore it! It's alright, I understand. Have a great day!"

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Hiii darling (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ~, thanks for your gentle words. Wrote a little drabble and some hcs for you, hope you like it and have a good day /night too!

It was almost like a dream coming true, albeit a bit too early. Malleus was still courting his beloved, slowly expressing his interest through his gestures and words, but he loved his beloved so much that his feelings simply gave life to a whole new being. And as soon as he wakes up in the morning, his eyes water when he sees the egg, when he holds it and feels life pulsing inside. Malleus doesn't usually cry but he cries a waterfall while he holds his unborn child. He is just that happy.

His and his darling's child. Your child. He already imagine they would look. Would they look more like you or more like him? Would they smile so sweetly like you? Would they be sassy and funny like you? Gods, he already wished to meet them. Alas, dragon faes take a while to hatch.

Thunder rolls across the dark skies as a sea of ​​feelings passes through him. And while he holds the egg against his chest, Malleus sets out to find you and tell you the news. He knows where you are, he can feel it and in a shower of green fireflies he appears in front of you. Eyes still shining with tears and a light blush over his face.

"Meet our child." He says softly. Softer than anything he's ever said, so happy that he hands you the egg to hold while he explains to you how dragon fae are conceived.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Now, how Malleus act depends on how you react to the news. He could be a doting boyfriend (and someday in the future a husband) to you and an amazing father for the child. If you are happy with the news, he's going to be delighted, already planning your marriage and life in his mind, discussing names for your child and the color palette for their room. Overall the next days he's spending each and every minute by your side.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Though the moment the child is born, all of you are going home. A school is no place for a baby to grow up, if you still want to pursue your education then Malleus is going to hire the best professors to give you private lessons in the castle. And also to help you adapt to fae society if you are human.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ But if you are to reject him or deny being the other parent, Malleus will not take this lightly. The child is yours, no amount of denying will work. You may just be scared but this is no excuse to sprout lies, a new life was born for his love for you and dragon fae needs love from both parents to exist, or so he says. He'll guilt trip into becoming the other parent and to stay with him. He didn't have his parents growing up and he was so so lonely, his child will have both parents present, even if he has to use his magic on you for you to cooperate.

[sapphossparenoterbook]

Hiiii! You said you're writing for AAA, so like a moth drawn to the light I came. 😆 Can you write Lilia x Reader? Reader being the vampire Carmila who inspired the book of the same name and even the Dracula book. 🥰

Crimson Secrets

Lilia Calderu x Vampire!Reader

(This book looks so so cool, I am definitely putting it onto my reading list!)

You’d done this thousands of times before… it was getting old, honestly, but alas, the appeal of sinking your teeth into young maiden’s necks won’t ever be truly boring. It’s just the process leading up to it that makes you suffer with bouts of ennui. 

Walking down a dirt track, you feel your body weaken. You hadn’t drank any human blood in around a week, and the rodents and livestock you find while stumbling along the Romanian country roads. 

Hopefully, no one here has heard the stories of the vampire in Austria that claimed to be in a carriage accident, mainly because you’re about to try that main trick again. One would say that the repetitiveness of your manipulation schemes was getting dangerous, but a vampire lacking their horde often gets desperate to survive. It’s easier to manipulate rather than overpower when you’re alone. 

A bolt of lightning in the distance illuminates the skyline ahead for a few seconds, making the dark bricks of a large looming tower visible to the eye. A tower that high means a castle, and a castle means food, company, and a good night's rest. Annoyingly, the lightning was a late warning for buckets and buckets of rain, but at least now you know where your next meal is. 

It doesn’t take you long to arrive at the castle, your metamorphosis into a bat proving useful once again. Except for the occasional rain drop hitting your wing too hard and knocking you off of your course and into the mud. 

Adds to the appeal of damsel in distress when you knock at the large front door, and a servant–or a butler?-answers the phone and stares at you with an indignant look on his face. Poor guy looked like he was fast asleep right before you knocked, but then again, he wouldn’t have answered as fast as he did if he was asleep…

“Hello… Could I… come in, only until morning–please sir, I promise not to bother anyone–” You say, hoping the damsel in distress act works just as well as it always does. 

“Why are you this far from the village at this hour? These roads are dangerous. Ridiculous girl.” The server-or-maybe-a-butler tells you, god, I hate when they’re grumpy. 

“I apologise, sir, I think there has been a misunderstanding… I was travelling, and I guess the horse was stressed? The thunder struck and he just– collapsed!” You say, feeling tears well up in your eyes before spilling down your face. 

Who was it that taught you how to do this? Irrelevant now, really… they’ve probably burned alive or choked on garlic for all I know…

The butler hands you his handkerchief and you wipe your eyes, pretending not to notice his grimace as the splashes of mud on your face smudge into the white fabric. Yeah, that stain isn’t coming out… 

Just then, a young woman and her mother walk out into the hall, watching as you cry and then rushing forwards to let you in. These are definitely the ladies of the house. 

The woman is dressed in a nightgown, with her grey hair tied into a bun. Her tense pursed lip slightly relaxes as she frets over you. 

Meanwhile the younger woman is still dressed in her full outfit. A large, orange dress, ordained with yellow embroidery, and her brunette hair in a plaited bun, similar to her mothers but with much more time put into it.And her smell–oh god, her smell… It's like rose petals and blood, gorgeous. The sound of her heart beat reaches your ears, and you can’t stop yourself from shivering as she grabs at your arm. 

“Oh, god–you’re shivering, mamma, she’s shivering! Come in, come on… come to the fire…” She says, and tightens her grip on your arm to drag you into the lounge of the great big castle. 

You’re here for days, then weeks… the girl, Lilia Calderu, has bonded to you very quickly. So much that they moved you from the empty maids bedroom next to the kitchen into the grand guest room next to hers. Which makes it much easier for you to slip into her room at night and bite into her pretty little neck, the pale, pure expanse of skin is warm to the touch, and the taste of the crimson liquid that spills into your mouth while she sleeps has quickly become addicting. She’s the best you’ve ever tasted. 

She’s getting sick, most likely from the frequent loss of blood,  so some nights you just spend waking her up and talking to her instead of biting into her sweet flesh, and tasting that lovely blood. This is one of those nights, before this, you’d thought she was just like any other of your victims. 

“Stop biting me!” She yells as she turns to face the other wall, freezing up for a split second. But how would she know? And why would she only react now, when you most definitely were not biting her? 

“Lilia? Are you okay?” You say as she turns back around, she’d grabbed an old book from her shelf that she was previously talking about, and carried on as if nothing had happened. 

“What? I’m fine… why?” She said, and as you look into your eyes you see no ounce of year, and no sign of any deception. Strange, you’d seen people phase out like that before, but only ever divination witches, and they had a much better control over when they’d predict something happening. 

You grin, this is a good, but also bad sign… you could keep seducing Lilia, run away with her if she ever gets caught… sex while drinking blood is always really, really lovely and all. Or, it could always backfire like crazy and she might have a divine intervention about you halfway through dinner with her parents tonight, or something dramatic like that. 

“Nothing, Lilia.” You say with a smile and pat the space on her bed she was occupying earlier. “Come back to bed, read me the book” Your smile widens as she blushes, and gets back into the bed next to you, and you pretend not to react as you rest your head on her chin, oh so close to her neck. 

There’s the telltale sign of lust when she hears Lilia’s heartbeat increase, and she starts to read that book. You chuckle, and kiss her shoulder, slightly dragging your teeth across the skin and hearing the girl stutter. 

Scratch what you’d said before, the lead up to drinking blood from cute young maiden’s necks was definitely not getting old, especially when they act all sweet like this.