#I wonder why they didn’t feed me dinner ghost says to his dinner

[captainmaxatx]

Late Mermay idea!

Orca mer Ghost in an aquarium but he is almost always hiding and quite depressed so the aquarium decide to give him a little more enrichment.

With humans lack of mer knowledge they come to the conclusion that because orcas eat seals then surely an orca mer would eat a seal mer. They decide that during closing hours (to avoid guests seeing the blood bath that will surely follow) they will drop a live seal mer into ghosts tank so he has the natural experience of hunting instead of just being fed slabs of meet.

But mer’s don’t eat other mers, regardless of secondary species.

So when seal mer soap is dropped into his tank, ghost just thinks he’s being given a very energetic handsome roommate.

And the humans are confused as to why ghost hasn’t eaten the seal mer yet

[orphicdreamers-wp]

When Emma Falls In Love — Luke Hughes

Summary: In which watching your roommate Emma and her trials of love, makes you realize your in love with your best friend

Content Warning; Heartbreak, Insecurities, Pining Luke & Oblivious Reader, UMich Luke

Pairing: Fem Reader & Luke Hughes

You were sprawled across Emma’s bed scrolling through your instagram feed as Emma tried on various outfits for whatever date she was going on tonight. You spoke as you tossed your phone on the bed beside you, “You barely know this guy Em, why are you stressing over your outfit?” Emma shrugged, “It’s easy to go on dates, keeping guys is hard. I don’t know how you and Luke do it.” Your cheeks flushed red, “I’ve told you a million times me and Luke aren’t a thing.” Emma shrugged, “Maybe you should be.”

You sighed and rolled off the bed, “He’d never see me like that, wear the pink dress and the silver heels. Hair down pink lipstick no lashes.” You walked out of her bedroom and laid on the couch and turned it on to whatever old timey movie was playing. You scrolled on your phone debating on what to doordash for your dinner. Emma walked out of her room and struck a pose in front of you.

You looked up from your phone and smiled, “You look amazing Em. Have fun.” The doorbell rang and Emma scurried to the door with a huge grin on her face as she opened the door. James or Jake stood on the opposite side of the door holding a bouquet of flowers. Emma smiled and placed the flowers in a vase by the door as she waved bye to you and headed out.

Two weeks later you were in the same position, laying on the couch as Emma slipped on a pair of UGG boots. You looked up from your psychology textbook, “What’s tonight’s occasion?” Emma smiled, “One of the hockey guys asked me to go to some ice skating rink with him and some hockey guys. Didn’t Luke ask you?” You shook your head, “Nope, he’s been ghosting me anyways.” Emma smiled as she slipped her coat over her shoulders, “You have to put yourself out there honey.” You shrugged as you shut your book, “Maybe someday.”

Luke let out a deep breath as he paced outside your door, Dylan had tried to get Luke to ask you out to the ice skating rink tonight. He was sweaty and panicked as he stood on the other side of the door holding flowers. He rang the doorbell and turned around in panic as the door opened. Your voice filled his ears, “Em, your dates here!” Luke felt his hands clam up, “No Y/N wait, I’m here for you. I was wondering if you’d go to this thing with me tonight?”

You smiled at your best friend, “Sure Luke, what are friends for?” Luke felt his mouth dry up, “Okay. Do you want me to wait for you or do you want to meet me there?” You smiled, “You can come in Luke, I’ll be like 10 minutes.” You went to your room and pulled on a pair of jeans and a UMich hoodie. You pulled your hair out of your face and slipped on a pair of boots. You entered the living room where Luke sat on your coach awkwardly.

You smiled, “Let’s go.” Luke smiled as the two of you headed for his car. The drive to the ice skating rink was awkward to say the least. You had gotten to the ice rink and in record time you, Emma and Rutger’s girlfriend Parker were off skating away from the boys to regroup. Parker smiled at you, “So Y/N, you and Luke?” You shrugged, “I don’t think so. I don’t think he sees me like that.” Parker shrugged, “Well your boys on his way towards us. Better find out.”

You smiled softly as Luke approached you and held his arm out, “Can we talk?” You nodded, “Sure Luke, let’s skate for a bit.” Luke intertwined your hands as you skated around for a bit and eventually stopped near the center of the rink. Luke spoke breathlessly and rushed out, “I love you.” You looked at your best friend confused, “I love you too Luke, your the best person I know.” Luke shook his head, “No, you don’t understand. I’m in love with you. I mean I wake up and I think about you. I go to sleep and I think about you. I just am so in love with yo-”

You cut him off by smashing your lips against his. His lips immediately were on yours. You pulled away breathlessly, “I’m in love with you too Luke Warren Hughes. You are the one constant in my life.” You pressed your forehead against Luke’s as you held his face in your hands. You were broken out of your daze by Emma’s loud squeals. You looked up at the falling snow around you. Luke grinned sheepishly, “How’s that for a first kiss?” You smiled up at him, “With you? It’s perfect.”

[disgraceful-writings]

Meant To Be

Chapter 6

Y/n and Aegon were born on the same day, with velvet eyes and white crowns. Y/n is sent to Oldtown by their mother to keep her pure. What happens when she doesn't return so? How will her twin react?

Y/n was laid in a field of wildflowers. The wind dancing through the tall grass and flowers. The sun kissing her cheeks. Suddenly, a tightness overtook her throat. She began clawing at her throat in an attempt to relieve the pressure, but it seemed in vain. When her vision went black, she rose in her bed, sweat dripping from her hairline. She gasped and looked around her room for reassurance. When she realized she was in her room back at the Keep, she relaxed a bit. Still, she decided to request some wine be sent to her room and put her housecoat on to speak to the guards. However, when she opened the door, Xavier was waiting for her. She screamed and stumbled backwards, crashing into the table. He lunged at her and his hand encircled her throat. “You will never escape me”, he whispered in her ear. 

The princess bolted upright to find a maid trying to shake her awake, “Your grace, are you alright?” Y/n pushed her hands away and tried to adjust her eyes to the morning sun. “How long was I asleep”, the princess asked, while the maid wiped her forehead with a cool cloth. “You slept through dinner and the night, your grace. Your mother asked we let you rest.” Y/n nodded and stood up to be washed of the sweat and dressed by the maids. Afterward, still shaken from her dreams, the princess visited her mother’s chambers. “Y/n, how are you, my love?” Alicent raised both arms to her elder daughter. Y/n sunk into her mother’s hold, “y/n? You look white as a ghost.”

“Mother…I-”, y/n was interrupted by a guard entering the room. “Your grace”, he bowed, “the maester has asked for you in the king’s chambers.” She nodded and looked to her daughter, caressed her cheek, “We will speak later, dear.” Alicent kissed y/n’s forehead and stood to follow the guard to Viserys’s chambers. Y/n watched her walk out of the room and sighed. Will he haunt her forever? She knows she is safe, her uncle made sure of his death, and now she is with her family. Her mother wouldn’t let anything happen while she is within her grasp. She decided to go to the Sept, maybe the gods will bring a sense of calm to her. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid”, Aegon gradually shouted in his chambers, kicking a candle stand over, then falling onto his bed face first. Why did he have to open his mouth? It isn’t like anyone was asking him to say those things, especially y/n. Y/n…he doesn’t deserve her. She’s too perfect and proper for him. He should just put an heir in her and stick to the whores of flea bottom. That’s all he’s good at. He looked over to the drawer that held his peasant clothes. Not that he needed them, with the white hair and all, and the whores always welcomed their favorite cock…at least the coin that had come with it. He rose from the bed and changed into them. Before climbing out of his window, he secured a pouch of coins to his belt. Tonight, he was going to do as he pleased. 

The prince made his way to flea bottom, specifically one of the more curious whorehouses. After fucking two women, he laid on his back with them cuddled up to his sides, feeding him and keeping his goblet full. He was curious of the woman on display, nude, and inserting the handle of a blade into herself. She was loud and fake, but that didn’t stop his mind wondering how y/n was in bed. “Shall I suck your cock, my prince”, one of the girls asked. He grabbed her by the throat and kissed her deeply, when departed, he whispered, “I’ll put a prince’s bastard in you.” At this she climbed onto his lap, lined him up, and sunk herself onto him. She let out a fake moan like the other girl had been doing, and Aegon huffed, putting his hands on her waist to quicken her pace. When she let out another exaggerated moan, he picked her up off of him and shoved her to the floor, where he stuffed his cock down her throat. 

“Now I don’t have to hear you”, Aegon grunted out, the sounds of her choking being music to his ears. When he finished, he pushed her off of him, collected his clothes, dropped a bag of coins, and left the whorehouse into the morning sun. “Always happy to house our favorite prince for the night”, the madam said as he walked out. He walked towards the Keep, however, he felt the need to go to the Sept. He had never cared for the gods, why would they be calling him of all people? At the last turn, he decided to go to the Sept. The room was dark and musty smelling. People shuffled around like they couldn’t make noise for fear the gods would strike them where they stand. Then he saw her, y/n was on her knees, praying to the gods. What would she need to pray to the gods for? 

Then he noticed the tear stains on her cheeks and the quiet sobs threatening to leave her mouth as she whispered her prayer.

Y/n heard someone walking in her direction and suddenly turned to them. Aegon. What is he doing here?

“Y/n”, Aegon looked puzzled, “are you alright?”

Y/n hadn’t noticed she was crying until he changed her thoughts. She turned back to the candles and said, “yes. I just felt the power of the gods come over me.” She wiped her tears with the backs of her hands. 

“I don’t believe you.” She looked scared and small to him. He decided to sit beside her with his back to the table holding all the candles. She looked into his eyes, but stayed quiet. His hand reached to wipe her cheek of a fresh tear, and she fell into him, sobbing. He just held her, not knowing what to do for her. 

When she had calmed a bit, she pushed herself off of him, “Sorry, I-.” She couldn’t finish her sentence, or she would cry again. She stood and started walking back to the keep. Aegon quickly rose and caught up to her quickly. Holding onto her arms, out of breath from getting up so quickly, “Y/n, what’s wrong?” She opened her mouth, however, no words could exit. She just stared into his eyes. Could she trust him? With her mind intact currently, she decided to get a proper look at him. He smells of wine and sex, he just came from flea bottom. Maybe he is as cruel and sick as the people say. “Prince Aegon, Princess Y/n, your mother has requested your presence”, the guard who had come with y/n said after receiving word from another.

Taglist : @watercolorskyy, @xitsemm, @d3nny,

<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

Masterlist

[leviathans-watching]

chhw - 10

intro post/m.list | wc: .9k | next

get added to the taglist

a/n: so i actually completely forgot about this series.... my b lmao

taglist: @marie-morningstar @mynutsinurmouth @mewchiili @ghost-mint @traumamakesmefunnier @sugar-sweet14 @duhsies @bontensbabygirl @bunny416

The girl grinning at you is unlike anyone you’d ever seen. Dressed in a skirt that fell well above the ankle and quite a bit of décollage, she looks more like a lady of the night than a new member of the diplomacy program. She is utterly wonderful, you decide, shaking (shaking!) her hand. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say, giving her a wide smile. “Welcome to the Devildom.” 

“Thank you,” she murmurs, gazing at you with those peculiar eyes. “I’m excited to be here. You may call me Thirteen.” 

“Thirteen,” you repeat, the name twisting on your tongue. This reaper is quite possibly the oddest creature you’ve met in your time in the Devildom, which is saying something. “Have you met the others? I believe Sir Solomon is present, as is Levi- I mean, Lord Leviathan, if you’d like to be introduced.” 

“Oh, no need,” she replies, waving her hand. “Solomon and I are acquainted already.” 

“I had no idea. Are you close?” 

She snorts, a decidedly unladylike sound, and you love her even more. “Not at all. I quite dislike him, to be honest. He tried to poison me once.” 

“Solomon did?” you gasp. “And why, may I ask?” 

“I’m not sure.” Thirteen rolls her eyes. “I thought I was just coming over for dinner and yet when I arrived he tried to feed me something quite obviously inedible. It was horrible!” 

“Oh,” you say, after a moment. “I’m afraid that’s just his regular cooking. He’s quite alright, aside from that. Even Lord Beelzebub can’t stand to eat the, erm, delicacies he prepares.”

Thirteen’s brow wrinkles at the mention of Beel, and you want to take back your words. You only hope she’s over the whole record incident and will continue to let his candle burn normally.

“I see,” she finally says. “Well, that’s a relief. I thought he was trying to take the cowards way out of our game.” 

“Game?” 

A vicious glint enters her eye. “Ah, yes. Solomon and I have a little thing going. If I beat him at a game or catch him in a trap, I get his soul.” 

You doubt Solomon would ever enter a deal like that if he wasn’t confident in winning. “And how is that going for you?” 

“I’ll get him one of these days,” Thirteen insists, stepping closer. “Why are you asking? Did he send you here to spy on me?” 

“No, I didn’t even know you two knew one another,” you reply reasonably. “And please, Sir Solomon is more than capable of winning his own games. Plus,” you add after a moment, “I’m not that stupid, to get mixed up in all of the shenanigans that seem to surround him.” 

“I guess,” she admits, scrutinizing you for another few seconds. “But if I find out you’re lying to me…” 

“Yes, yes, my life will get cut short. Save the speech, I’m sure I’ve heard it all before.” You give her a little half-smile. “Should I take you to Prince Diavolo now? I’m sure you’re eager to get settled in. I believe he’s got a room prepared for you at Purgatory Hall.” 

“And where is that?” she asks. 

“Oh, it’s just down the street and to the left,” you reply. “Sir Solomon, Lord Simeon, and little Lord Luke all live there at the moment.” 

Thirteen shudders. “I will not be staying there,” she says decisively. “I’d rather be out on the streets!” 

“It won’t come to that,” you promise, resisting the urge to smile. “I’m sure the prince will be more than willing to set an alternative up. Come, I’ll lead you to him.” 

*

“So,” a voice calls, and you look up from your work. “I heard you met our resident reaper.” 

“That I did,” you reply, motioning for Solomon to sit. “She’s quite a character.” 

“Yes,” Solomon agrees. “She is.” 

“She mentioned you knew one another,” you say. “How ago was it you met?” 

“Oh,” Solomon blows out a breath, thinking, “several hundred years at the very least. It’s been a long time.” 

“I see,” you say, and it grows quiet. 

“Are you jealous?” Solomon asks, breaking the silence, and you gape at him.

“Jealous? Whatever of?” 

“Thirteen,” he says, as if it’s obvious. “I just thought that perhaps you’d be feeling a little threatened.”

You stare at him for a long moment before realizing he’s merely teasing. 

“Well,” you say, looking down as if you’re embarrassed, “maybe a tiny bit.” 

“Really?” Solomon asks, and you hit him in the shoulder. 

“No, you buffoon. I think she’s perfectly nice and cannot wait to get to know her better. Jealous,” you repeat, laughing to yourself. “As if.” 

“I was just making sure!” Solomon defends, holding up his hands, and you soften.

“I know, and thank you for that,” you say. “But if I felt threatened by the mere presence of another lady then I’d be the worst sort of insecure. I’m much better than that. Rather, I’m quite relieved. I look forward to getting a break from all of you and enjoying some time with her.”

“Argh, now I’m the jealous one!” Solomon says, and you laugh. 

“Don't be. You’re a special one, Solomon, so no one can even come close.” 

He raises his brows. “Is that a compliment?” 

You shrug playfully. “Maybe.” 

“Infuriating woman,” Solomon growls, but he’s smiling. And okay, yeah, maybe you’re smiling too. 

(He doesn’t have to know it’s partly because you remembered that you and Thirteen are taking tea together later in the afternoon.)

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[witchersmistress]

The Damned and the rage

Happy Monday, i'm back in action, so buckle up i guess

Trigger Warning: , swearing, anger and insanity

Word count: 4.2K

  Harper’s POV

* A few weeks later*

Every week is the same. I go through the motions, but I’m frozen inside, as if it’s not really me there at all. There’s a Harper-sized doll in my place, someone I used to be but am no longer. The world has forgotten my existence.

Only the Phantom remembers. I wait for him, for the clean smell of his house, the polished hardwood, the curl of his hard body around mine, the detachment I feel when he’s inside me that’s the closest thing to freedom I can imagine. When I’m not there, I’m a ghost walking the street at night, waiting for him to come back. He always does. Two days a week, he takes me home, feeds me. He fills half his closet with new clothes for me, shoes, jewelry, an expensive purse to carry my phone and keys and wallet. Everything comes to his house in boxes or bags delivered to the door, so he doesn’t have to leave the house except to get me and take me home. He checks the ring he put through my bellybutton to make sure it’s healed, puts dark-colored contact lenses in my eyes, touching my eyeballs like they are his own. I think maybe he’ll pluck out my eye and replace his blind one. But I don’t move, don’t try to stop him when he reaches between my lids and sets the thin lens over mine. “Good girl,” he says, stroking my cheek. “Beautiful.” He opens the closet door and sets me before the mirror. He tells me I’m perfect now, that I’m ready. I stare at the stranger in the mirror with dark eyes and dark lips and brown-black hair, and I think she looks ready, so he must be right. I don’t ask him what I’m ready for. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters.

A few weeks later, I notice the dark green field outside the Phantom’s window turning hay colored as the grasses droop in the late summer heat. Daisies and Black-Eyed Susans and w8ild asters dot the grass now. The Phantom stands there, looking out with his hands clasped behind his back, like he’s looking over an empire and not an overgrown field of weeds. “Have the Walkers contacted you?” he asks. I have the same phone number, but no one ever contacts me. Why would they? I haven’t contacted them, either. Everyone texted on the OnlyWords app, and I didn’t download it on my new phone. I didn’t have friends, anyway. Only the Walker boys and their friends got close, and they left me to die. They washed their hands of me, and I have no need to change that. I give my head a single shake, then realize he won’t see it. “No.” He rubs his jaw. I can hear the rasp of stubble. “It’s not enough,” he mutters. At dinner, he gives me a little black dress and tells me to put it on and do my hair. The dress is low-cut but not too revealing, and it hugs my curves and falls around me like it must have cost thousands of dollars. I roll on the stockings and garters he left with it. I put in the diamond teardrop earrings he left sitting on the dresser. I put my hair up the way he instructed and dab on some of the makeup he left sitting there for me. The lipstick is too dark, but I smear it over my lips anyway. I’m no longer startled when I see a stranger staring back at me from behind the closet door. Does it matter who she is? I know she’s a good girl.

The Phantom walks behind me and puts a necklace around my neck. I can feel it resting cold against my chest, and it makes me shiver. I touch the charm, a diamond ballerina. He runs his knuckles up the back of my neck, skims his fingertips along my bare shoulders. “You look like…” He bows his head, so I can only see his golden hair, not even his eyes or mouth to give away what he’s thinking. I’ve never wondered what he’s thinking before. It never mattered. After dinner, he orders me to the bed without the usual shower. He doesn’t undress me, just commands me to lie on my back while he pushes up my dress. Then he picks up his phone, angling it so it gets my whole body. “No faces,” I cry, my voice echoing in the high-end apartment. I throw my hands over my face, surprised I can still react that passionately to anything. He’s shot dozens of homemade porn clips of his dick going into me, but he promised me no one would know it was me. Usually he fucks me from behind, anyway. I feel exposed on my back, vulnerable and scared in a way I haven’t felt with him before. Suddenly, I’m shaking all over. “Keep your hands over your face,” he says, laying a reassuring hand on my thigh. “No one will know it’s you.” He plays with my underwear, rubbing his cock against the outside of them, pulling them between my lips, then down my thighs. I pull a pillow over my face. He tugs it a little higher, setting my necklace straight before going back to work.

I try not to feel what he’s doing, rubbing his cock between my lips, getting me wet. Finally, he pushes inside me. He lifts my leg and swings it around so I’m lying on my side, so he’s filming my hip with the tattoos. Someone could definitely recognize that. Above my hip, there’s a D branded into my skin. What if my attackers see it and come back for me? “Stop,” I gasp. “I’m almost done,” he says, moving my leg back where it was, so I’m on my back. He cums quickly, shooting once over my belly before pushing back inside me to finish. He doesn’t lower his phone until he’s gotten the whole messy scene. “Good girl,” he says. “You were perfect.” Then he steps into the bathroom, and I hear the shower running. I get up, my limbs shaking, my pulse racing. Something’s happening to me. Something awakening, some horrible monster that’s rising like a tidal wave inside me, like Godzilla emerging from the ocean. I can’t breathe. I want to race up the ladder onto the roof, to suck in the night and shriek into the sky. I want to sail over the edge, arms and legs wide, and soar to my death below. Some impulse in me rebels at the expensive silk constricting my waist, the heavy pads of the bra. Suddenly, I’m revolted by the body I’m in, by what I’ve allowed to happen to it. I yank off the dress, tearing at the strangling fabric, kick off the heels he put me in, rip off the garters and stockings. I throw them aside and pace the floor in my bare feet, naked as an animal. My heart is skittering erratically around my chest.

I feel trapped, caged, though he’s never once told me I couldn’t leave. In fact, he made me leave. I’ve been free all along, and yet, I’m not free. He’s treated me better than anyone ever has, than anyone should, and yet, I think I’ll scream if I see his mask again, if he calls me his good girl one more time. I pull off the earrings and reach for the box they were in, my fingers shaking. I lay them in the jewelry box. There’s a sleek black paper bag with the jeweler’s name on the side because he bought them just for me, maybe just today, and had someone deliver them. There’s a little tag stapled to the bag, the kind that comes on flowers. The kind that tells a delivery person where to send them, since the Phantom never leaves his apartment. There’s a name written on the tag. In looping cursive handwriting, the words Mr. D.

[wellpresseddaisy]

Long Ago (and far away) pt. 22

Potter and then the Headmaster. He only had to keep himself from going completely to pieces for another few hours.

Wonderful.

He would rather have his teeth pulled without painkillers than be privy to the conversation about to happen with Potter. A complicated mix of feelings left his stomach twisting. The elves, bless them, had given him a light meal that evening, far removed from the stodge they served to the children. At least the headmaster took under advisement serving fresh fruit and vegetables that weren’t boiled until even the last ghost of a vitamin fled. Despite his own dietary habits, he kept a keen interest in properly feeding the young people in his care.

Pity he used such woefully old-fashioned sources. Perhaps he could encourage the man with something published after the turn of the twentieth century? He could ask, in any case. One of his neighbors had a granddaughter who did something with nutrition, he thought. Mrs. Abernathy would be pleased as anything to pass on questions, if only so she could brag about her daughter.

The hospital wing doors loomed ahead of him. Why was he always party to these conversations? He sighed. He was party to them because out of all the professors he understood what those children felt. The anger, the terror, the moments of complete despondency, the hopelessness…he knew all of it and could, mostly, predict a student’s reaction. It allowed them to have a conversation with the least distress to a child.

Potter should prove interesting, at least. Severus couldn’t even begin to predict the boy’s reaction. He could be furious at having his privacy invaded or relieved that someone noticed and knew.

Thankfully, these situations remained few and far between. By and large, magical parents overindulged their children more than anything else. He set his shoulders and opened the door. They would fix this for the child.

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

Harry knew that Madame Pomfrey and his professors knew. They knew about the Dursleys and Aunt Marge and the cupboard and all of it. All the things he’d tried so hard to hide would be dragged out and talked over (and over and over) and in the end it wouldn’t help at all.

He might even wind up back in the cupboard if his aunt and uncle were angry enough.

But maybe…Professor Snape knew Aunt Petunia and he thought the professor also knew how awful she was. If he did…maybe he could tell the truth. Maybe someone would believe him, finally. He thought maybe Mrs. Weasley believed him without even asking any questions. A bit of hope, hope Harry didn’t even know he had anymore, flared to life inside him.

Maybe there was a way out. He just had to be brave because he had to tell them. Whatever they asked. He hugged the blanket his mum made for him and buried his face in it.

“Mr. Potter, could you come back to my office? Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape are both here.” Madame Pomfrey called for him at exactly eight.

Harry swallowed, wishing he hadn’t had so much dinner, but got up and put on his dressing gown anyway. He followed Madame Pomfrey into her office and stared when he saw Hedwig perched on the back of one chair.

“Good evening, Mr. Potter. I thought you might like some company tonight.” Professor McGonagall smiled at him, but it looked a little sad. “Could you sit?”

“Thank you, professor.” Harry sat and let Hedwig preen his hair. “I’ve missed her.”

It didn’t escape his notice that they left him the chair nearest the door. He could get up and leave at any time without one of them between him and the Infirmary. Something tight and twisted under his breastbone eased just a little bit.

“She’s missed you, as well.” Madame Pomfrey shook her head. “Tapping at my office window all hours.”

Hedwig just hooted quietly in response, as if to say “Well, let me in and we won’t have a problem.”

“Mr. Potter, before we begin this evening, I’d like you to keep one thing in mind: you are never going back to your aunt and uncle’s dubious care. We will find another place for you, where you’ll be cared for properly.” Professor Snape started, looking as fierce as Harry’d ever seen him.

“Yes, Professor.” He managed to speak around the lump in his throat. He wasn’t going back? Not ever? “But the headmaster said I had to go back there because of the protection from my mum.”

“I’m going to speak to him directly after we finish here. I think he’ll agree that living with your aunt and uncle isn’t good for you, especially once he hears what I have to say. If it comes down to it, Mr. Potter, we can send an adult from our world to live in their spare bedroom, but I don’t believe it will be a problem.” Snape looked as if he'd enjoy being that person.

Harry kind of wanted to see that.

“Now that you know, we need to talk about what happened to you in that house. After that, we’re going to discuss your health assessment and why we needed to call on specialists. We all thought you would do better having more information than less.” Madame Pomfrey explained. “Professor Snape is here in part because he'll need to brew some potions for you.”

It helped, Harry thought, knowing what they wanted to talk about. He thought he could manage two things. They were big things to talk about, but it was just two of them.

“All right.” Harry took a deep breath. “What…”

“Can you tell me what an average day was like before you got your Hogwarts letter and what changed after? There’s a Dictaquill and parchment on my desk and it will write down questions and answers so you only have to answer once. We don’t have many questions, Mr. Potter, but we do need to hear this from you.”

That helped even more. He could do that. And he would only have to say it once. He hoped no one interrupted.

“Before the letters came…” Harry trailed off, staring at his knees. It was easier if he didn’t look up. “Before, my room was the cupboard under the stairs. Aunt Petunia woke me up early every morning to help with the breakfast. I can’t remember when I didn’t have to do things like that. They had a step for me when I was really tiny, because I couldn’t see the pan and kept burning the bacon. Uncle Vernon likes a proper breakfast every day. I…I usually got to eat something for breakfast, but not much. I got school dinner, though, when we were in school. I, er. I wasn’t allowed to do better than Dudley. He threw a tantrum when we got our first reports and I spent a lot of time in the cupboard after, so I had to do either the same or just a little worse. He liked it when I did worse.

During the summer lunch depended on whether or not I did my chores to Aunt Petunia’s standards. She didn’t like me touching much in the house other than in the kitchen, so it was mostly doing the floors inside and the garden unless she was having people over. Then I did the bathroom and the floors and made the snacks. She didn’t like that I was better at pastry, but she had me make all the little fiddly things anyway. I didn’t mind too much, because I could be out of the cupboard, even if it was hard.

I had to help with dinner, too. Aunt Petunia didn’t make me do all of it because she didn’t trust me not to poison them. I usually got some dinner, at least.

I…I spent a lot of time running away from my cousin and his gang. My aunt and uncle didn’t like to touch me, but they encouraged Dudley to…to beat me up when he caught me. Or…they didn’t get angry with him and Uncle Vernon would praise him for being so strong. The only time Aunt Petunia got angry was when he smacked my face into the pavement. She didn’t like having to explain that.

When…when I did something ‘freaky’, they would lock me in the cupboard for a while. It could be just a day or go on for weeks. If it was during the school year they’d let me out to go to school. In the summer, I’d get let out twice a day for…for the bathroom. Aunt Petunia didn’t think a bucket was hygienic so I got two minutes twice a day.” Harry stopped as Snape stood suddenly and slammed out the door.

A metallic clang rang through the Infirmary, and Harry could just make out ‘horse-faced, walrus-fu…’ before McGonagall hastily shot a spell at the wall, silencing him.

“We’ll just let Professor Snape have a moment. Would you like some water, Mr. Potter?” Madame Pomfrey poured a goblet for him from the pitcher on her desk even before he nodded. “There you are. I’m afraid I’m going to need a new wastebasket. We lose more wastebaskets every year to Professor Snape than even the Weasley twins, you know.”

She shook her head, smiling conspiratorially, and Harry found himself smiling back. He didn’t have much more to say. He could wait a few minutes. Professor Snape finally returned, much more quietly than he left.

“I apologize for my lapse in temper, Mr. Potter.” He spoke gravely.

“It’s all right.” Harry answered quietly. “Can I finish? I’m almost done.”

“Of course.” Professor Snape nodded at him.

“They…they didn’t hit me much.” Harry continued. “Not like every day or anything, and Aunt Petunia only tried to hit me with a frying pan once. Other than Dudley, they didn’t want to touch me. It was mostly even less food or none at all and the cupboard. If they really didn’t like what I’d done, they took the light bulb out of the socket. That’s…that’s probably about it. They moved me to Dudley’s second bedroom after the letters came since they had my cupboard on them. It was better for a bit after the letters, then they found out I couldn’t do magic at home. Being locked in a room wasn’t as bad as the cupboard, not really. I was just worried because Hedwig wasn’t getting enough to eat.”

He stared at his knees, wishing he had mum’s blanket. Hedwig hooted softly, tapping her beak against the side of his head.

“Just a few more questions, Mr. Potter. You’ve done very well. How did they usually speak to you?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“As little as possible, Professor. Er, Uncle Vernon usually just called me ‘boy’ and they all said freaks like me shouldn’t be around normal people. They really don’t like magic.”

“Thank you, Mr. Potter. One last question, if you would. What happened when you were about eight?” Madame Pomfrey asked that one. “It would have been accidental magic, most likely.”

“I…I apparated to the top of the school when my cousin and his gang were chasing me. I went to jump behind the dustbins and then I was on the roof. They had to get the fire department in. It was right before school let out and…and I was shut up in the cupboard all summer. Uncle Vernon liked to stand by the door and talk about how he wanted it locked, permanently. How they could just keep me in there forever and no one would care. He took the bulb for that one, too.” Strangely, he felt no shame as he once would have while talking about his relatives. Telling the truth felt like breaking free. Maybe knowing they believed him before he even said anything helped?

“Thank you, Mr. Potter. You’ve been very brave this evening.” Professor McGonagall looked rather sad at that. “From what Madame Pomfrey has told me, it seems you being locked in that cupboard triggered something in your magic.”

“It’s a condition called Complex Magical Trauma, Mr. Potter.” Madame Pomfrey picked up. “When you’ve been through something like being locked away with the worry that you won’t be let out, your magic can manifest in strange ways. With CMT, it usually halts your growth at that point until you feel safe again, or your magic decides that you’re safe. For you, worried that you’d have to stay locked up in a small space, your magic decided that you needed to stay small enough to fit. You haven’t actually aged since eight. It’s why you’re so much smaller than your classmates.”

“But why would…” Harry started, horrified. It answered a lot of questions, but he had no idea magic could do that.

“Because sometimes, Mr. Potter, our magic is very, very stupid when it’s trying to keep us safe.” Madame Pomfrey sounded about as done as Harry felt. “It’s quite a rare condition, and it’s something you’ll have to manage, but we can discuss that more this week.”

“How can I get it to stop?” He asked. “Will it stop?”

“It will stop, Mr. Potter. For a start, you need to be well away from your relatives. Professor Snape has a plan for that.”

Harry appreciated that they didn’t just him that the adults would handle it, that they thought to tell him what was planned for him.

“One of the upper year classes will be brewing a genealogical potion similar to the one Gringotts uses. The second years will be the test subjects this term. The goblins agreed to spot check a few of the results with their own potion and treated parchment, mostly as they have been trying to reach you since your eleventh birthday.” It didn’t seem like the professor blamed him for anything, but Harry found himself bristling.

“Well, no one said anything when I was there.”

“They don’t shout your business through the bank, and both the teller you saw and the cart manager missed the notice on the board, apparently. You have what’s called a post ward on you right now.”

At least one person in the magical world didn't expect he’d know everything.

“Can it be removed?” he asked cautiously.

“If you wish it to be. Right now it might be better to keep it.” Professor McGonagall took over. “You wouldn’t want fan mail following you everywhere, would you?”

“What?” She didn’t just say fan mail, did she?

“Surely, Mr. Potter, you don’t believe that only Hogwarts, the bank, and your friends would send you post?”

“Er, yes? Why would anyone send me anything? I only really know a few people. Who writes letters to people they don’t know?”

Professor McGonagall muttered something about self esteem. It wasn’t like he didn’t hear that from Hermione frequently enough.

“The post ward means that anything sent to you, aside from specific senders, goes to the central post office first. They have an entire staff dedicated to this sort of thing. Your post is checked, the safe items are stored for you, and they send a thank you note to the sender. Anything financial in nature is sent to your account manager at Gringotts. Letters from your friends or to people you’ve written to first are allowed through as a matter of course. It’s quite a neat system and it protects a large number of people.”

If Snape ever explained potions concepts like he did the post system, Harry thought he’d get much better marks. Although that new book…

“Er, yes, I’d better keep it, then.” He had visions of being bombarded with owls.

“Once we have your genealogical information, we should be able to find a suitable guardian. We are not making this publicly known, Mr. Potter, as a warning. If it got out that you needed a new guardian…” Snape trailed off.

“The political climate is such that it could be dangerous for you.” Professor McGonagall finished. “Don’t give me that look, Poppy. I won’t beat around the bush with this. If it were up to me, I’d send you right off to the Weasley family. Unfortunately, there may be some with closer ties and better connections at the Ministry who could interfere.”

“Oh.” He never really considered himself a political anything, but he supposed it would make someone look good if they were ‘Harry Potter’s Guardian’. What if it was Lockhart? Or Fudge? Or the Malfoys?

It could go so horribly wrong.

“In terms of your overall health,  Mr. Potter, I’ll need to see you weekly for at least the rest of term. You have some worrying vitamin deficiencies and you need all your inoculations. Your magic has been working overtime trying to keep your system going. And…the scar. It appears that it retained some kind of residue of whatever was done to you that Halloween night. It’s gone now, but you’ll need a weekly potion to fully remove all the after effects.” Madame Pomfrey seemed as if she couldn’t say too much. “You’ll need to be careful of cold and damp going forward, as well as being extra careful during cold season. Your lungs were damaged at some point and you’re going to be more susceptible to bronchitis and pneumonia as a result. The end goal, of course, is to get everything working as it should so your magic isn’t working to heal you. As your body heals, you’ll find that your magic might feel a bit overpowered for a time. You’ll finally have access to all of it, though.”

Harry blinked at the barrage of information. “Could I have this written down?”

“Of course you may. I’ll make up a schedule for you so you know when to come and write down everything we’ve talked about.” From Madame Pomfrey, that was as good as a promise.

“Thank you. It’s…a lot…with everything.” He’d known he wasn’t in the best health, but hearing it together made the situation seem dire. “Could I…” he looked to the door.

“Go right ahead. Try not to fall asleep, though. I have a few potions for you before bed.”

Harry escaped gratefully back to his bed with his head swirling with information. He needed Hermione and Ron. And maybe Bulstrode, since she seemed to know everyone. But mostly, he wanted a little bit of quiet and his yellow blanket.

[books-and-catears]

I liked the one about a ghost MC it was a really cute idea! I wanted to request something similar, where the MC who has a the appearance of the Japanese slit mouthed woman. She is a regular human and you can decide if she got the scar's from an accident or not, but she always where's a face mask to hide it and eats alone rather then with the brothers. When she's asked why they say "People can't eat when I they see my face." But one day she finally trusts the brothers enough to show her face.

OH MY GOD I KNOW THIS GHOST. If I'm not wrong, this ghost is called the Kuchisake Onna, kuchi meaning mouth.

This is so wholesome I love it. Your asks are so adorable :')

It has been forever since the accident. And yet the scar makes it feel like yesterday. Two scars running up towards your cheeks, making it look like you're constantly smiling. You hated mirrors at this point, without your mask especially.

You hear loud talking from the dining room downstairs as you stare at your meal on your study table. When was the last time you ate a meal with other people?

"What do you mean you won't eat with us MC?" Mammon and Asmo parotted every other day.

"People can't eat when they see my face." You left with that reply, refusing to answer the follow up questions.

Yours was a face only a mother could love, they said. Some screamed, some smiled sympatheticallly, the others nervously scattered away from the last time you tried to eat out by yourself. The restaurant requested you to leave since they were losing customers.

You walk up to the stairway, watching the brothers in their usual chaos. Maybe - just maybe, they won't be repulsed. Surely they've seen more horrifying things than you?

"Um..." You cleared your throat loudly. All of them stopped and looked at you. You usually never showed up until half an hour after meals.

But today you called out to the one of them. "Would you mind eating with me tonight...?"

Lucifer

"Of course I wouldn't mind MC."

He promptly got up with his plate as if he was already prepped for this day. Swiftly follows you into your room.

He sat down across you and began eating normally. "Thank you for inviting me in MC. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Nothing just..." You said untying your mask. "It felt like a good day." The mask fell off your face into your lap.

You paused and stared at Lucifer. He only looked shocked for a split second before a hidden rage clouded beneath his eyes. "Did someone deliberately-"

"No it was an accident. I was getting my teeth fixed when the lights went out and I moved. And something cut through my- well you can see." You explained.

"I see. Well that's quite unfortunate." Lucifer said and began picking at his plate.

You felt uneasy as chewed your food."You can leave if you feel repulsed. I wouldn't force you to-"

"No such thing MC. I was just thinking of consulting Satan and Solomon. Surely they know of spells that can heal your scars if you want them gone." Lucifer replied promptly. "And it's going to take a lot more than scars to scare us demons away."

"Lucifer...thank you." You said quietly.

"If possible I'd like to eat dinner with you from now on, MC. Frankly it's much calmer and it's a relief from my brothers."

After a long time, you laugh without your mask on.

Mammon

"I'll be right there, MC!"

Hurriedly grabs whatever food he has making a mess and jumps to his feet. He is in such a hurry, it's a miracle he didn't drop half of his dinner.

He plops down across the table from you, grinning ear to ear. "Of course you'd choose the Great Mammon to eat with ya!"

You nodded and chuckled, "Of course. But would you choose to eat with me?" Your pulled your mask away from your face.

His eyes went wide and then watery in the same instant. Is he..crying? "I-Im sorry..." You feel horrible so you hurry and tie the mask back up. Mammon grabs your hands and holds them down.

"I'm not crying stupid human! I'm just...you..you must have been in pain..when that happened." He said. "Who did this to you..."

"It's okay it was an accident, Mammon." You try to calm him down.

"Then why do you hide it? It's not even your fault!" Mammon said pouting. You looked down, "People get uncomfortable..."

Mammon shot up from his chair. "WHO DARE MAKE YOU FEEL BAD ABOUT IT? Show me I'll get them all! Noone messes with my human! I'm yer protector ain't I?! You never have to wear that thing around me!"

You blushed as he moved forward and hugged you, burying your face into his shoulder. "Mammon..."

You knew he was the best protector out there.

Leviathan

"I'm coming right away, don't worry MC!"

Stumbles around with his plate at your sudden invitation. His day has come. He is the chosen one.

He struggles to sit down, feeling estatic and nervous at the same time. "I didn't think you'd want to eat with me of all people, MC..."

"After tonight, maybe you'll feel that way about me Levi..." You said, taking off your mask. His face lit up as he let out a loud "Woahhh!"

Thinking he was scared you tried to hide it again before he screamed, "MC you look just like my favourite character from that horror romance anime "I fell for my best friend's scarred smile! That's so cool!"

You blink at him, blushing. What is with him and his oddly specific anime names!? Levi was oblivious to your shock ,going off at his own tangent. "You could pull off the perfect cosplay, come to my room tomorrow I can design it for you and then I'll make my own to go with it and we can go to the next convention-"

"Levi Levi calm down you'll run out of breath!" You couldn't hold in your laughter.

He stared at you awestruck,"So cute...why would you hide that cute face MC?" You shake your head, "Not everyone sees it as cute Levi."

"Well sucks for them to be such stupid normies." Levi blushed and scoffed.

Levi was the best friend everyone deserves and you were glad to have him.

Satan

"I'd be delighted to join you MC."

Was slightly taken aback at first but quickly composes himself and his dinner and follows you. His pace faster than usual.

Pulls out your chair for you like a gentleman and sits down himself. You smile and blush at the action. "So how was your day MC?" He asks like a gentleman, avoiding the elephant in the room, choosing it normalise it. You let the mask fall off your face.

"Oh..." Satan sat up straight, his shoulders stiff, his eyes going wide in anger. "Who dared to-"

"No no no Satan it was an accident!" You had to explain the whole thing for him to calm down. Then he nodded and held out his palm. "May I see how the deep the scar is MC?"

That was new. Noone has wanted to touch your scars before. When you nod, he reaches out and runs his fingers softly across your scars. "Hmm don't worry. They're not too deep. I can have them gone in a matter of days. That is if you'd like to me to."

It's like he knew. As much as you hated that scar, it kind of helped you see people's true intentions. You looked down unsure. Satan held your hand. "It's normal to get attached to scars you have for too long. None of us here will treat you any differently with or without it."

You smiled at him and held one of his fingers playfully. He laughed, his cheeks turning pink. "Ah now that's a smile I'd love to see everyday. May I have dinner with you more often MC?"

"Of course." His words and his presence were always calming to you.

Asmodeus

"I was wondering when you'd ask MC!"

Daintily picks up all of things and paces after you. He was excited but he restrained himself but he didn't want to scare you off.

Sits down close to you, smiling gleefully. He's just happy to be there with you. Grabs something off your plate with a fork and holds it upto your mouth. "MC come here let me feed you!"

It was probably the most nerve wracking to open your mask in front of him. The Avatar of Lust, the most beautiful being in Hell, and you- ugh, what's the point? You've come this far, let's get it over with. You put your mask down, bite off the potato off his fork.

You'd think Asmo would probably gasp and act all dramatic and hysterical. But instead he cupped your face, his eyes filled with worry and tenderness. "MC how long have you had this...?"

"A little over three years." You answered honestly. Asmo looked like he was about to cry. "You've been hiding away your pretty face from people for three years..." Asmo pulled you in a hug. "Noone deserves that. It's too lonely."

"Oh I'd hardly call it pretty-" Before you can even retort, he is glaring and pouting at you, holding your shoulders.

"I think I know beauty a little better than you, MC. And I say you're gorgeous and I'm going to eat with you everyday now." Asmo huffed to which you laughed.

Everyone deserves a hypeman like Asmo in their lives.

Beelzebub

"Oh? Me? Sure MC!"

Is surprised but happily goes along with you with all his food. You know he loves you when he gets midway from eating just to eat in your room.

He sits across, already muching away at his food. "Thank you for asking me to eat with you MC." You nod and tentatively take your mask off, trying not to draw too much attention for it.

Beel looks up shocked, his mouth full of food but he stopped chewing. He involuntarily reaches out to touch you, "Does it hurt MC?"

You shake your head. "It's years old Beel. It's okay. " Beel looks genuinely relieved at that and goes back to eating again. He doesn't seem bothered by it at all after that.

"Say MC will you be free next week? I could use your help in the new workout I'm doing. I need to train particular muscles for the big game they said." He switched to a whole new topic just like that. "Also this means I get to eat with you every day right?"

You felt warm inside. You were more than just your scar and Beel made you feel like that by hardly saying anything at all.

Belphegor

"...me huh? No I wouldn't mind."

Has a smug grin on his face as he gathers up his meal and slowly heads upward with you, making sure his brothers see how you chose him over the others. Cheeky cow.

He sits leaning into you cause he's too lazy to sit up straight. "So what's the special occasion MC? A face reveal?" Wow this one is direct.

He is staring right at you, as you pull off the mask slowly, thinking if it was a bad idea. His eyes grow wide for a split second before his fingers are already near your mouth feeling the scars.

"Deliberate or accident?" He asks. "Accident." You answer. He nods, "Good. I'm too tired today, wouldn't be able to take appropriate revenge." His fingers never leave your face.

"Is that why you keep it covered? You're embarrassed of it?" He asks. You think about it for a while. "I think I accepted it, it just seemed to make people uncomfortable and scared, if I smiled or opened my mouth to eat." You answer.

He smirked. "Then smile more. Let their cowardly selves feel uncomfortable. It's their problem that they can't see how cute your smile is."

That was surprisingly thoughtful. You smiled at him. "Thanks..."

He smirked back, "Also I'm going to be eating here from now on. My brothers annoy me."

He's cheeky but he has a good heart. Smiling never felt so easy.

[moemammon]

Hey! What if their human happens to bring a Ghost Pepper from the human world and each of the brothers are dared to eat it. What would be their reactions? Would it show on their face? I enjoy your blog!

The Demon Brothers vs The Ghost Pepper

(Will it send them to the afterlife?!)

Lucifer

He reminds you that the food in the Devildom is way stronger in the flavor department than human foods, and that your little ghost pepper will be nothing.

Though, he indulges you anyway and take a bite, then gives the rest back

Immediately fucking chokes midway into chewing, but the look he gives you keeps you from laughing (probably-)

"So it seems not every human food can be taken for granted... But I trust you're smart enough not to tell any of my brothers about this, hm?" "...I can tell you're holding your laughter in."

Mammon

No way is he gonna get weak knees over a dumb little pepper! He'll pop the whole thing into his mouth to assert his dominance and try to impress you

Mammon eats spicy foods on the reg, so a ghost pepper is nothing. Tbh, he's had spicier.

Honestly likes it tho, so he wants to incorporate it into the house's cooking. He’d even eat them a snack if he could. Could you do him a favor and bring some more next time?

"Woah, this thing's got a nice flavor, and a great kick! Think I could get a couple more o' these? I bet they'd be great on some Hell-sauce cup noodles!"

Levi

He's not a stranger to trendy food challenges, so he already knew about the apparent dangers of eating ghost peppers

But he's not a coward either..! Besides, going outside of your comfort zone and eating new foods can be fun with a friend!

That being said, he makes you eat the other half so your can suffer together. And BOY does he suffer-

*various choking noises* "What IS that?! Can any human seriously eat the whole thing?! M-My mouth is on fire, and this ramune is making it worse!! Water! I need water-!"

Satan

He's pretty curious about one of the human world's 'spiciest' peppers, so he’d happily take a bite

And like Mammon, he doesn't think it's all that bad. Doesn't like the flavor though, but the spice level is nice

All you wanted was to watch him suffer from the heat, but now he's contemplating how to cultivate the peppers, how to use them to harass Lucifer, why the human world has such wimpy foods, etc.

"I wonder how a human would react to OUR spiciest pepper. They say it's so hot, it could melt your tongue off. I wonder if we should cook with it..." "Haha, I'm just joking."

Asmo

Hella reluctant, because he's NOT a fan of spicy foods. Sweets are his go to, than you very much!

Don't get him wrong, not all of them are bad, but he's got a sensitive tongue! No one likes a spicy aftertaste!

Takes the tiniest baby bite known to man, and is instantly dramatic as hell. Acts like he's gonna die

"I can't BELIEVE you made me eat something so terrible! The taste is going to linger for week unless I can get it out! That being said... are you interested in helping me with that~?"

Beel

He eats the pepper straight out of your hand before you can even finish telling him how spicy it is

Doesn't even notice the spice until he's already swallowed it. It must not be that bad to him, because his only comment is "it was tasty", and he's got that sparkly look in his eyes.

Then again, Beel has eaten just about everything, so there's no way he’d be phased by that. Proceeds to give you a list of things that would taste good with ghost peppers

"Do you have more? I'd like to pair it with curry. Or maybe spicy dumplings? A burger topped with ghost pepper sauce would be nice, too... Maybe we can ask Satan to grow them here?"

Belphie

Didn't even realize what you were feeding him, because he's half asleep.

This boy just slowly eats the entire thing, and doesn't react at all. You could've given him an eraser and he’d probably be eating it

Like, is he even registering the taste?? He's just crunching away like it's nothing, eyes still closed and everything-

"....Isn't it a little early for dinner..? Well, I guess I don't care... But can you tell Mammon to lay off on the hell sauce next time..?"

[rere-the-writer]

Title- 'To win her back'

A part two to this request

a part three - ????

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Protective Mikaelsons

You were surprisingly happy after a good cry when the Mikaelsons left. You thought over Elijah's words wondering if you could truly forgive them. You stood huffing as Ryan rush to your side worry written over his face.

"You okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine I am just tired." You tell him as Ryan smiled softly taking you to bed. Marcel thought it would be a good time to visit you a month after your lovers found you.

"So all that is from them?" Marcel asked taking the cup of tea from you as you sat down looking at the boxes. Since the Originals found you and did as you asked it didn't stop them from sending gifts and things for your baby. Rebekah sent baby clothes, Kol sent toys, Klaus would send paintings he did while Elijah began paying your bills not trusting Ryan to keep you living comfortable.

"Yes. Their way of apologizing, showering me with gifts." You said having not open any of them though you couldn't stop Elijah from paying the bills.

"How is the little guy?"

"Heathly, him and his twin brother." You tell your best friend watching him light up touching your belly smiling.

"Wow twins. That amazing."

"It is....how are they?" You couldn't help but ask as Marcel leaned back thinking how things were back in New Orleans. Things were tense between the Mikaelsons and Hayley as they blamed themselves for you leaving and Hayley was trying to get them to let you go.

"Well they are tensed with Hayley and a little jealous that you let Freya visit." Marcel tells you as you sighed it was true you only allowed Freya to come up to see you so the only way your lovers knew that you were okay was though her and Marcel.

"Tense with Hayley? Why?"

"Well other than blaming themselves for you leaving, they also blame Hayley." Marcel says as you thought over what he said. You knew from what Freya told how they were doing Klaus dosen't really leave his art studio, Rebekah and Kol sleeps in your bedroom and Elijah ignores Hayley spending his time looking though your photo album.

"I see. Well I got a doctor's appointment."

"Right. See you again soon." Marcel said hugging you walking out with you.

"Yeah Mar."

You huffed feeling annoyed seeing dozen red roses on your door and picked the box. You reading the card seeing it was from Kol and you put the roses in a vase while doing so you noticed two empty glasses of wine.

"What the?" You muttered walking seeing pair of women panties that you knew wasn't yours. You realize what was happening as you marched to the the bedroom finding Ryan in bed with his secretary.

"RYAN! Are you fucking kidding me!" You shouted surprising the lawyer and his secretary. You eyes narrowed seeing the gorgeous necklace around the woman's necklace and realized it was one that Rebekah sent as an apology.

"Gifting her my jewelry?!" You shouted at him throwing a picture frame at him as the secretary ylep.

"Baby listen it was an accident."

"An accident?! Get the fuck out of my home and you take my jewelry off!"

"Baby! I'll be out on the street!" Ryan said giving you a puppy dog look as the secretary scrabble to take the jewelry off and got dress. You crossed your arms glaring at Ryan who look pathetic pleading for you to not throw him out.

Elijah was walking down stairs knowing how quiet it was with Klaus up in his art studio, Kol spending all his time with Freya and Rebekah had yet to really leave your bedroom. Hayley came in stopping seeing Elijah and made an attempt to talk to the Original as he had been cold to everyone that wasn't family.

"Elijah, you can't keep ignoring me."

"What do want me to do Hayley? Come running to you? Seek comfort from the one thing that reminds me of the pain I cause to the woman I truly loved?"

"Wow. I hope you say it to her face." Elijah looked up seeing you standing there with a baby sling that held twins. Elijah's breathing hitched finding you just gorgeous dressed in a long sundress hair cut short.

"Y/N?" Elijah whispered finding it hard to believe you were standing there as Rebekah had heard Elijah say your name with Klaus and Kol.

"You guys act like you have seen a ghost." You teased as Rebekah reached you first worried you'll pull away but was glad you let her hug you.

"Are you back for good?"

"I sure hope so because I didn't drive a truck load of stuff for nothing." You said noticing how nervous they were around you as if it was your first night with them all over again.

"You came back to us." Elijah said watching you being lead to the den by Rebekah. They followed after as you frowned noticing the dust on things as you took a good look at your lovers.

Marcel and Freya wasn't kidding when they told you that the others weren't doing well. Each of them looked as if they weren't really feeding, Elijah wasn't dressed in a clean suit, Rebekah looked a bit duller, Klaus looked scruffy with paint on his clothes and Kol was just as dull as Rebekah.

"Well I thought seven months in your mistake was enough." You say sitting down with Rebekah sitting next to you. They looked seeing the twin boys that was asleep.

"So you came back to throw it their faces that you are happier."

"No Hayley. Truthfully I missed you all so I came home it would be unfair to keep Oilver and Henrik from their family." You said as they stared and Elijah swallowed walking over kneeling letting Kol take the other side of you and Klaus stood behind you.

"You named one of our boys after our little brother?"

"Yeah to honor Henrik." You say softly letting them get a better look at the sleeping boys. Hayley crossed her arms staring at you.

"So what hoping to move back in like nothing happened?"

"No. I bought the town house across the street. I forgive them but I am not ready to move back in." You tell Hayley as Oliver woke whining getting your attention. You had Rebekah take a still sleeping Henrik as you fed Oilver.

"How old are they?"

"A month in a half." You answered Kol watching Oliver latch onto you to eat. Elijah was in awe staring at his sons noticed how much Oliver and Henrik looked like him but he was glad they had your nose.

"Baby, as much as we would love for you move back in if there was one thing we learned was. Let you do what you need."

"I am not going to keep the boys from you all unlike some people but I need time before we jump back into this."

"Take all the time you need love. We can wait a thousand years if needed." Klaus says softly rubbing your shoulders. They were happy you let them touch you and was every willing to go as slow as you wanted.

"You want to hold him, Elijah?" You asked when Oilver was done and Kol fix you up. Elijah held his arms out as you placed the wake Oilver in his arms.

"Henrik is smaller than his brother." Rebekah said handing you the sleeping baby as you smiled softly.

"There was a bit of trouble during childbirth. I mean Hen is heathly he'll be fine." You tell them noticing the worry on their faces.

"Are you guys really okay with her just coming back?! After all the pain she put you all in?" Hayley walking in as you stood up getting the twins comfortable in the sling.

"Clearly you guys need to work things out with Hayley. I'll be across the street." You said walking out missing the glares the Mikaelsons gave Hayley. Marcel helped you bring your things inside with Josh and Davina.

"They are cute." Davina said watching over Henrik and Oilver who were wake in baby swings. You smiled opening boxes looking at your boys.

"Yeah they sure got the cute Mikaelson baby genes." You tell Davina as Josh and Marcel brought in the last of the boxes.

"I'm glad you're back. Me and Josh missed you."

"You guys could have visited with Marcel."

"Yeah but someone had to make sure the Mikaelsons take care of themselves."

"Was it really that bad?" You asked looking at them as Davina sighed.

"I am not going to lie to you. Yes it was Y/N, they were a mess. Marcel had to watch over the city."

"Hell they barely let Hayley in the Abattoir unless she was dropping Hope off." Josh tells you as you looked out the window looking across the way staring at the Abattoir.

"Freya never told me how bad it was."

"Because we agreed that you should come back home on your own not because of guilt." Marcel tells you as you looked at them while you were glad that they wanted you to come back on your own. You wished they told you how they really were doing.

Later that evening Klaus stopped by with Elijah and you let them in as they noticed you were in one of Klaus's old shirts and sweatpants.

"Unpacking love?"

"Yeah if you guys didn't send so much I wouldn't be still unpacking." You tease lightly as Klaus smirked while Elijah knelt down in front of the boys. Oliver was reaching for Elijah's hand and he let the boy grab his hand.

"Where is Kol and Rebekah?"

"Getting you dinner." Klaus said moving to help you unpack while Elijah was playing with boys.

"Where is Ryan?"

"Back in New York. Caught him sleeping with his secretary."

"Sorry to hear the love." Klaus says rubbing your back as you chuckled leaning into him.

"It's okay. Ryan wasn't you guys...he didn't have that same warmth."

"We brought food my beautiful righteous Queen." Kol said making you laugh which made the babies laugh. The Mikaelsons were happy to hear your laughter again and this time they were going to do their best to be sure you felt loved as they weren't going to let you go this time.

[nightowlfandom]

Noctis Lucis Caelum- Anything For You

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

More Final Fantasy content....YYYYYYAAAAYY

Leggo

...

“Good girl.” you smiled as the yellow feathered Chocobo ate from your hand. “Eat up, you need your energy.” you scratched the top of her head as she squawked gratefully.

“Y/N are you still here?” the farmhand, Faye emerged from the stables to find you. “Do you not have any other plans?”

“Trust me.” you began to laugh. “I’d much rather scoop up giant bird poops than deal with my personal life right now...or lack thereof.”

“Well isn’t that somethin- Is that the crown prince I see?” she looked past you which made you follow her eyes. “It is?! Prince Noctis on my Chocobo farm. Quick! How do I look?” 

“Like a farmer.” you laughed in reply. “Perhaps get the shit off your boots.”

“Damnit! I should have worn my new ones.” She began wiping the bottoms of her shoes against the grass. 

“Faye, he’s just a prince. I don’t know what’s so great about him anyways.” you rolled your eyes. “He seems like an asshole from what I’ve seen of him.”

“You’ve never even met him.” she put her hands on her hips. “Maybe you’ll like him!”

“Sure, whatever you say, Faye.”  you laughed. “That’ll happen.”

...

“Ugh why are we here anyways?” Noctis rolled his eyes as Ignis pulled up to the famous Chocobo farm.

“Because!” Prompto snapped in reply. The blond male didn’t even wait for the car to fully stop before he jumped out. “The eggs are supposed to be hatching today and I want to be the first to capture a picture of those featherless faces!”

“Of course.” he scoffed. Noctis liked Chocobos, sure. He just didn’t think an idea of a good Saturday morning was to spend the day at a bunch of dirty, smelly, stables, for a bunch of unhatched eggs no less. “Great.”

“I suggest you fix your face, the farmhand is here.” Gladio grunted, hopping out of the car. “Wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“Whateve-” Noctis turned his head towards the loud squawking when his eyes landed on you. You were feeding a random Chocobo while talking to that farmgirl who ran the stables. “Woah.” he felt his heart flutter. Who were you?! He heard you laugh from where he was and felt his heart stop. Your laugh, it was beautiful.

“Yo? Who is that girl?” Noctis scrambled out of the car, nearly falling on his face. He tried desperately to fix himself up. “Specs?”

“I believe she frequents the shops not too far from here.” Ignis replied in his usually cool manner. “I believe she is also a friend of that Dino character we run into from time to time.”

“No way. Her?! Friends with that-” Noctis shook his head in disbelief. He found it impossible to walk forward. Gravity was stopping him. He didn’t even notice everyone else walking ahead of him. He had never seen you around before but he wished he had. “Woah....”

...

You were still chatting with Faye when a group of guys ran up. One of them held a camera and looked as if he were about to explode. You had no time to register the camera flash. Good think he captured your good side.

“I AM HERE FOR THE EGGS!” he declared. His abrasiveness surprised you. Was he talking about the new hatchlings? 

“Ummm-” Faye looked scared. “You here to volunteer?”

“Heck yeah I am!” he explosive blonde looked as if he was about to piss himself from excitement. “I WANT TO HOLD YOUR CHOCOBOS!”

“Alright! Keep your pants on. Follow me. Y/N, you’ll be good here right?” Faye asked, seemingly frightened by the giddy young man. 

“Yeah.” you stifled a laugh. “I’ll be just fine here.” you shook your head as the man ran full force for the stables. You were about to go about your business when a black haired boy stumbled up to you. “For a royal, you’re pretty clumsy.” you stifled laughter.

“Huh?!” he looked taken aback. “You know who I am?”

“...I mean aren’t I supposed to?” you turned back towards the Chocobo. “Prince Noctis?” you tried to hold in your distaste, but he caught up on it instantly.

“Is there an issue with me-”

“As a matter of fact there is. Don’t think I didn’t notice that face you were making when you pulled up with your friends.” you cut him off. “Big and bad prince man can’t be seen around a few Chocobos?”

“Oh, no that’s not it at all.” Noctis tried to explain himself in the best way he could. 

“Then what exactly is it?” you turned towards him again. “I mean really?”

“Okay so I admit my attitude isn’t the best-”:

“So you admit it?” you held back harsh laugh. “Hm, It’s a start.” you shrugged.

“I mean, you aren’t really giving me a fair chance. You only know me from the papers.” he explained. “You don’t really know me as a person. For all I know you could be a stalker.”

“I am no a stalker!” you looked him up and down. 

“I wouldn’t know that.” he winked. “So maybe we both have it all wrong.”

“And what do you wanna do to fix that, go on a date or something?” you scoffed.

“Yes!” he replied honestly. “Let me prove I’m not some asshole!”

“Is it that imperative that you go out of your way to prove to me that you aren’t an asshole?” you raised a brow.

“Yes!” he nodded quickly.

...

You boredly sat at the restaurant table. He was late. 15 minutes to be exact. 

“I knew this was a load of-” you prepared yourself to stand up when a man frantically rushed in.

“I’M HERE!” Noctis yelled, grabbing the attention of the other patrons. He practically fell into the chair right across from you. 

“Nice of you to show.” you sat back down. You decided to humor this guy. “Care to explain?”

“Sorry! Stupid Prompto gave me the wrong address and...woah...” he nearly drooled all over the place seeing you in your tight black dress. “You look...amazing.”

“Sure I do.” you scoffed. “I’m sure I still have dried up chocobo shit in my hair,” you turned away from him, feeling your insecurity creep up on you, tons more than usual. “But thank you.” you relaxed in your chair.

“No I mean it! Even when I saw you...I thought you were beautiful.” he expressed.

“Really?” you paused to look him in the eye. 

“Really.” he smiled. “You’re the best looking girl here.” 

“I definitely don’t believe that...but thank you.” you said shyly. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. 

....

“What about that one?” you pointed to a random star.

“That one, there’s a legend that it’s a parallel version of this world.” 

You both sat at the edge of the lake, staring into the moonlit sky. After dinner, Noctis had taken you to the docks on Galdin Quay. 

“No way. “You stared at the star in wonder. “How many worlds do you think there are?”

“Infinite, my dad says so.” Noctis replied. “All different versions of us doing different things.” he smiled to himself. “Maybe there’s a version of me that...is actually proud to be a prince.” he glowered. 

“Maybe there’s a version of me whose the royal instead.” you nudged him. That made him chuckle a bit. 

“If that’s the case...I’d be happy to bow down to you.” he flirted. He looked back at the sky. “Try that one.” he pointed.

“I know that one.” you beamed a little. “There’s a legend called the Lover’s Star, if a couple sees it on their first date...they’ll be together forever.” you mused romantically. It was only then you had realized your fingers had laced into Noctis’s. 

“Maybe today was our lucky day.” he winked. After a second of silence, you decided to confess.

“I was wrong about you.” you said honestly a while. “I think you’re pretty amazing, Noct.” you chuckled. 

“So...” he smiled deviously. “Are ya gonna say I’m sorry?” he mocked.

“You wish. You’re still a stuck up prince to me...you’re just not an asshole prince.” you stuck your tongue out at him. “You’re not like most guys around here.” you shyly looked away from him you dug your toes into the sand. 

“Well I’m not from around here.” he replied. “You’re different from everyone around here. You’re not all into me because I’m The Prince Noctis- that’s all I want. I want someone to see me for who I am...not what I am.”

You shyly kicked your legs in the water, looking at the ripples in the water.. “I’m glad I could be that person for you Noctis.” you smiled.

“Guess this means you’re gonna be part of my team now?” he bit his lip. “You’ll be my...ummm...I’ll think of something.”

“I look forward to it.” you giggled. 

“Hm for now...come here.” he winked, gently holding the side of your face. Noctis kissed you. You felt your senses go off. You instantly grabbed his face, kissing him back.

...

You fell back on the hotel bed, refusing to disconnect from a feverish prince throwing himself at you. He kissed you with urgency, as if you would disappear before his eyes. He tore a rip up your dress hastily. 

Your tongues clashed together as you kissed, the air was getting heavy. You helped Noctis out of his jacket. Your dress had turned to ribbons and your panties weren’t too far behind. 

“N-noctis..” you hissed, feeling his hands explore every inch of your body.

“You feel even better than I imagined you would.” he kissed your bare stomach. “You’re so beautiful.” he moaned. It was like you were the goddess, the royal, and he was the peasant.

You felt shy under his gaze. He stared up at you, biting his lip. “I don’t think I can wait...” he groaned. “A-are you okay with this?”

“God, yes.” you mewled as he kissed your thighs. 

“I wanna worship you.” he moaned, ghosting his lips over your center. You shyly stared down at Noctis who looked up at you with a shit eating grin. 

He sunk his tongue into you, lashing against your pussy. You instantly grabbed a fist full of his hair. You and him both were a mess. Hisses and prolonged moans escaped your lungs along with his name. You were sure the people in the next room could hear you. 

Noctis crawled over you again, a predatory glare in his eyes. He bit his lip, staring down at you. “You’re so fucking cute...”

...

“I’d do anything for you.” he moaned against your lips. “I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life.” he whimpered, his thrusts growing sloppily. He bucked his hips rhythmically, your bodies moving and grinding in sweet friction. His cock twitched inside of you as he grew near his release, but he wanted to wait. He wanted to cum to the sounds of your cries and screams. ”Gonna make you my queen and w-we’ll rule together until our hearts give out baby. F-FUUUCCKK.”

“Noctis.” you croaked. Hearing his words in your ear made you hiss in delight. This alone caused him to dig his nails into your sides and thrust even deeper into your heat. You didn’t know what else do you but let a stream of cries escape your lungs. 

“I love it when you say my name.” he grunted. “Say it again.”

“N-noctis.” your insides lurched as you tightened around his length. “I wanna- I’m gonna-”

“Again.” he barked. “Never stop saying my name. Never say another man’s name!” he sank his teeth into the crook of your neck. “You’re mine, baby. You’re all mine.” he growled.

“Noctisss.” you arched your back. “F-fu-” you whimpered, at the impact. “S-shit!”

Noctis yanked himself from you, spraying his cum all over your stomach. Shortly before, you came too, feeling your water run down your leg. He fell forward, burying his head into your neck. “Baby, I’d fucking do everything for you.”

You shook under his body, whimpering at his gentle touches. You felt him kiss your need lovingly as you both drifted off to sleep.

...

[wormstacheangel]

Suptober Day 1: Harvest

wc: 1.7k tags: fluff with the side of tiny case fic, established relationship, spoilers but cw they are drugged with cider,

It was a long hunt. One that they accepted as their last one, but, of course, they can never sit still enough not to take an easy local hunt. By local, he means a two-day trip away, but still, they saved a couple of old folks from a ghost, which was fun. Dean sure enjoyed getting thrown around until Cas finally burned the dentures.

Like he said, long hunt.

They stayed at a nice little Airbnb overnight. During breakfast, their waitress told them of the Harvest Festival a town over. Cas was still a little bruised up, but Dean convinced him to go, at least to try their famous apple cider.

“We’ll make a day of it! Just me and you.” With that, Cas agreed, taking Dean’s waiting hand across the table.

The festival was lively when they arrived in the afternoon, with more people than they expected considering the small town they were in but apparently when they say famous they meant it. The tents lined up with food from funnel cakes, donuts, chicken, and some pumpkin spice beer that Dean chugged down even though it tasted like shit.

They eventually ended up with bags filled with treats and souvenirs to take home to the kids--Sam and Eileen fall into the kids’ category. They each held a bag while Dean held Cas’ hand tight in his own, dragging him around from seller to seller, buying and tasting as he went.

“We should start heading home, or soon you’ll be too full to drive.” Cas teased as Dean finished off their bag of apple crisps. “You think we’re feeding an army.”

“Considering how Jack eats, we might as well be.”

“He gets that from you, you know.”

They continued their banter as they made their way out of the festival and to the parking lot.

Then they were stopped by a woman wearing a volunteer pumpkin shirt, “Aw, leaving so soon? Don’t ya wanna stay for the fireworks?”

That quickly took Dean’s attention, brightening up his whole face so much that once again, Cas couldn’t find it in himself to refuse. Instead, earning himself a small kiss on the cheek as a thank you before being was dragged to the car to drop off their items.

Once back in the festival, they walked around until another volunteer told them about the amazing view of the fireworks at the middle of the corn maze.

“It’s a small maze, but in the middle is a little hill. So it’s usually first-come, first-serve. But I haven’t heard of anyone taking it as of now.”

Once again, Dean was easily hooked in and took Cas along for the ride. Not that he was complaining. He enjoyed watching Dean get excited over small things, things he wouldn’t have permitted himself to get excited for before. Of course, it helped when Dean hooked his arm around Cas’s waist to tug him close, whispering, “Ever kissed someone in a corn maze, Cas?”

“You know I haven’t, Dean.”

That did it for Cas. A promise of a spectacular kiss that will put the fireworks to shame.

At the entrance of the maze stood a cider cart, and Cas made a beeline for it. “I at least wanna be warm if you are going to make me walk around in the cold.”

“On the house.” The saleswoman winked at them, and something uneasy passed through them, but they ignored it as she motioned them to go right on in that the fireworks should be starting soon.

They took their hot cider and walked right in, taking hold of their hands as they walked through the maze in comforting silence. Watching the sky above them change from orange and pinks to the dark night sky.

When the maze opened up to a clearing, Dean started to run—taking the small space on top. It was tall enough to see over the cornstalk and watch the lights twinkle from the festival up ahead. They could even see groups of people exiting the maze from their left, and for a second, Dean wondered why they didn’t run into anybody on their walkover. It looked like a lot of people were going through the maze, but nobody passed them.

That thought was quickly dismissed as the first firework lit up the sky, cheers from the crowd echoed the loud boom, and Dean felt secure with an arm hooking around his shoulders to bring him in closer. So they sat there watching the firework show and polishing off their now cold cider until Cas couldn’t wait another second.

Gently, he turned Dean’s face just enough so they could start the kiss slowly. The snap crackle pop of the fireworks above their heads just kept lighting up the fuse between them until Cas asked for them to find another place to spend the night.

“Should we go now?” Dean kissed down Cas’s jaw, feeling the hastily nods instead of seeing it. “Okay. Okay, let’s go.”

They both stood up and took one last look at the view before they got down. Turning left, where they were sure they saw the other folks exit from before. Every few steps, they pulled each other for another kiss-- smiling into them like giddy newlyweds--until they started to realize they’ve been walking for way too long.

The fireworks had long been over, and they soon realized it was their only source of light. It soon became so hard to see anything that they didn’t dare let go of each other’s hands. They tried to go back to the hill to see if maybe they could see the trail from there, but it was like it never existed in the first place.

“Fuck!” They turned the corner to find another dead-end. “Isn’t this shit for children!”

“You know we haven’t seen or heard anyone in a while. Not since-”

“We came in here. I know. I was thinking the same thing earlier when we were on the hill.”

“Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“Cause you stuck your tongue in my mouth and impending doom took a backseat.”

They started to run, calling out for help as they did, but it only felt like they were going in circles.

Then Dean yelled, “Hallelujah!” When a flashlight shined into their faces.

“There you two are. It’s time to go.” The old man sounded so relieved to find them. He didn’t look sinister. He didn’t even make it sound like they were gone for that long. “You two okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. We got lost, I guess.” Dean shrugged, watching as Cas stared ahead of him.

“Many people do. But they always find their way out, though.”

They followed the man out of the maze while Dean’s knuckles brushed alongside Cas’. They were listening to the man recite a memory when suddenly Cas tugged at Dean’s arm.

“Dean.” It was a shocking gasp.

“Cas?” Dean turned around to watch; Cas’s eyes rolled to the back of his head before dropping like a ragdoll. “Cas!”

And just like that, Cas was out to the world.

Dean fell to his knees to take Cas into his arms, but it was useless. He was heavy, and Dean’s body was starting to tingle, his muscles becoming weaker with every passing second.

“Don’t you worry about your little friend.” The man flashed his light on Dean’s face. Blinding him, but Dean kept glaring up at him. “Just like you, he won’t feel a thing.”

“What did you do to him?” He tried to growl, but it came out too breathless for it to be threatening.

“Same thing we did to you. Same thing we do every year to a couple of tourists.”

Dean could feel himself slipping out of consciousness, but he kept trying to shield Cas from whatever was coming.

“Don’t fight it, boy.” The man walked over to him, raising his flashlight high above his head. “Hate it when they struggle.”

And with a single hit, Dean was knocked out. Falling over Cas. Hoping that at least he gets killed first this time around.

Dean woke up again when he felt someone kicking his legs with little to no effort. His arms were numb, and he realized it was because they were pulled back and tied around some huge boulder.

“Dean?”

Dean recognized the voice and happily groaned out a complaint. “Hate small towns. Creeps. All of them.”

Cas chuckled in relief. “Glad you’re okay.”

Dean blinked a couple of times before his eyes focused, looking across from him to find Cas in the same position as him. Cas looked dirty, a few scratches on his face from being dragged, which made Dean furious—tugging at the ropes that hold him back from checking for any more injuries.

“Fuck! Shit! You okay? They hurt you?”

“Not as much as they did you.” Dean didn’t feel much pain besides the stretch on his shoulders and a raging headache. “I guess that’s not true. You have a swell on your head.”

“Yeah, well, I went down swinging. Unlike you.” Cas didn’t look amused, but he looked concerned. Dean followed his gaze, looking for an explanation or a way out. “I guess we’re either bait or dinner.”

“I’m used to being bait.”

“And I’m used to being dinner. Well, aren’t we a match made in heaven?” This time Cas glared, and weirdly enough, it made Dean relax a little. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”

The plan was simple, while Cas may not be a full-powered-up angel, he was still an angel. And he was stronger than an average human. So with a little more force, Cas had his arms free, rubbing his wrist while shrugging at Dean, “I always see humans do this.”

“Yeah, cause it hurts, so if you can just-” Dean motioned for his arms and Cas quickly reached to untie him. Then, when they were both free, they once again started to look around the empty cornfield. “I say leave now and call for backup; come back in the morning.”

“Considering we have no weapons, I think that would be for the best.”

“So much for date night.” Dean took Cas’s hand, and they quickly started to get themselves out of there. Running like maniacs as they pushed through the endless corn.

“I actually enjoyed myself today. You know, before the whole being drugged and left for dead part.”

“Really? That was my favorite part.” Dean joked, squeezing Cas’s hand as they made their way to safety. “You think all the stuff we bought was drugged?”

“Won’t stop me from having another donut.”

“Man, I love you.”

[forever-rogue]

Feels Like Home

Summary | Bucky just seems a little out of sorts lately, so you decide to do something special for him. 

Pairing | Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2k

Warnings | none

Masterlists | Bucky, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Bucky had been different lately. Not bad or mean or anything just...different. Off. 

No matter how hard you tried to figure it out, you just couldn’t. That left you with the only logical conclusion you could think of. 

“Buck?” you were sitting at the kitchen table, silently eating dinner as you sat across the table from each other. About halfway through your meal, you’d lost your appetite and set your fork down before pushing your plate away. That garnered his attention as he turned to look at you with a weak little ghost of a smile. You couldn’t take this anymore so you just decided to go ahead and ask, “are you upset with me?”

“What?” he set his own fork down as his brows narrowed and he gave you a quizzical expression, “what are you talking about, Bub? W-where did you get that idea?”

“Have you really not noticed?” you asked softly as he leaned closer. You could see that there were darker than normal circles under his eyes, and he just looked...tired. Exhausted even. He shook his head slowly as you sighed lightly, “you’ve been different. We’ve been different. Did I...did I do something? Are you going to break up with me?”

“I...no - never. I would never break up with you, Bub,” he insisted, wondering where all of this suddenly came from. You just shrugged lightly as tears pricked at the back of your eyes and you focused on your plate, “I love you, you must know that.”

“Then why have you been pushing me away?” your voice was small and shaking as a single tear rolled down your cheek. Bucky made a small sound in the back of his throat as you swiped at the wetness before looking back up to meet his eyes, “the past couple of weeks, I just feel like you’ve been shutting me out. If I did something, please just tell me. I just want you to be okay - for us to be okay.”

“Bub,” he slowly stood up and walked to your side of the table before sinking down on his knees, turning your chair towards him with no effort. He reached for your hands and gently took them in his, his larger ones easily engulfing yours. You held back a sniffle as you met those ocean eyes you loved so much, “I’m not upset with you, or anything. I’m sorry, so sorry if you think that’s what’s going on. I love you a little more every day - this is...it’s just been rough lately.”

“Is everything okay? Are you alright, Bucky?” you dropped one of his hands and brought yours to his face, gently stroking his cheek. He closed his eyes and keened lightly into your touch, “what’s going on?”

“I just...this feels so silly,” he admitted softly, “but sometimes I’m just reminded by how out of place I am. I’m a hundred and six-year-old man in a modern world. It feels...odd sometimes.”

“Oh Bucky,” you whispered softly. You couldn’t lie and say you understood what he was going through or feeling, but you’d always be there for him. That much you did know, and he knew it too, even if there were times that were harder, “I’m sorry, my love. I know it must be hard sometimes, I can’t even imagine, but I’m always here for you. You can tell me anything, even the most mundane thing. But you do belong here - you belong here with me, and Sam, and Sarah, and everyone else. You’re right where you’re supposed to be, even if it doesn’t feel like it. If there’s anything I can do to help, whatever it is, just tell me, okay?”

“Yes,” he whispered softly, giving you a gentle nod before he took your hand and pressed a kiss to your palm, “I love you. I’m sorry I’ve made you think anything but. It’s not you at all...just me.”

“Hey,” you put your hand under his chin and tilted his face up towards yours, “I love you, James. Always.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was an interesting thing to be with Bucky. He was a man that, if you didn’t know any better, was very much a man of the times. He dressed, acted, and felt the part. But underneath it all, you knew there were times when he was still left in amazement or awe. You’d say something and he would look at you with that expression. 

But now that you knew better, there were times when you could see something flicker across his face. There were times when you could sense that he was missing something. Even if he didn’t mention anything. 

So when you saw something interesting cross your social media feeds that piqued your interest, you came up with a plan. You hoped he would like it - it wouldn’t be much, but you hoped it would be good enough either way. Maybe a little surprise for your lover was a little push in the right direction to get his mood up a little bit.

Whatever happened, you were willing to try. Anything to put a smile back on his sweet face. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The whole apartment smelled of delicious cooking; you’d been hard at work for the last several hours, attempting to perfect this evening’s meal and dessert for him. You weren’t a huge natural when it came to the kitchen, but you’d watched enough TikToks on how to make meals you knew were a part of his childhood and practically committed them to memory. 

You’d turned on some light jazz that you knew he’d like - and you did as well - swaying slightly to the music as you worked on finishing everything up. Everything did look good, and you hoped that he would like it. If nothing else, you knew he’d appreciate the effort. You could do something as simple as pour him a cup of coffee in the morning and he’d be over the moon. The man really did love you more than you thought was ever possible. For once you wanted to turn the tables around and make him feel as special as he always made you feel.

“Bub?” Bucky’s soft voice surprised you so much that you almost jumped out of your skin. You were putting together a salad and had been so focused on chopping and singing quietly along to the music that you hadn’t even heard him come in. You turned around and gave him a giant smile before almost running over to him, “what’s all this? Smells good.”

“James,” you whispered softly before gently touching his face and carding your hand through his hair, “you’re home just in time. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he promised softly, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, “what’s going on?”

“It’s just...it feels silly now, so don’t laugh,” you insisted as he raised an eyebrow at you, “I wanted to do something special for you.”

“For me?” he asked softly, immediately overwhelmed by the idea that you went through any trouble for him. You bit your lip and shyly nodded, “what for?”

“I just...you mentioned you’ve been having a bit of a hard time lately and I wanted to do something special for you to maybe make it a little better,” you admitted, as you took his hand and pulled him further into the kitchen, “now, don’t get too excited because it’s nothing super special but I hope you’ll like it.”

“You gonna tell me what it is, Bub, or am I going to have to guess?” he asked softly as you realized you hadn’t exactly told him what was going on. You pointed to the various dishes on the counter and food still on the stove that was warm and ready. Bucky looked around and inhaled the familiar smell of the foods he had grown up with back during his childhood. A lump welled up in his throat as his heart felt like it was about. You were beaming at him, waving your hands in a small ‘ta-da’ motion, “you did all this for me?”

“I did,” you admitted, “hopefully the recipes are somewhat real and the food somewhat good? There were a few things that left me wondering what the hell you guys were eating back then! But...I just wanted to do something to make you feel a little more, at home? I dunno. Like I said, it’s not much, but it’s a little something.”

“I love it,” he admitted softly as he turned to you, his blue eyes soft, “I love you. This is...this is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.”

“Wow,” you whispered as he pulled you into his arms, “that’s saying a lot for a man that’s been through hell and back multiple times. You sure about that, James?”

“I am,” and then he kissed you. Softly and slowly, wrapping his arms around your body as he held as tightly as possible in his arms. You threw your arms around his neck as you held him back, “no one has ever seen me like you do, has treated me like you. You are everything. I love you so much. I’m sorry I ever made you doubt for even a second.”

“I love you too, James,” you whispered as you pulled back and cradled his face in your hands, “so much more than you’ll ever know. I would do anything just to see that sweet smile back on your face. Even if it’s something little like this.”

“Little?” he asked, looking around at the mountain of food and dishes you’d prepared, “by the looks of it, this took you some time!”

“Okay...maybe most of the day,” you admitted, “but it was worth it. You are worth it, my love.” 

“As much as I want to eat of all this, will you do me a favor first?” he asked softly, taking a step back and admiring you. It was funny, how he still managed to make you feel this shy and nervous, even after being together for years.

“Anything.”

“Dance with me?” he asked as you realized you still had the music playing in the background. You laughed lightly but nodded, taking his outstretched hand and letting him take the lead. It was quiet for a while, the only sound was the gentle music and the soft whispers of adoration you exchanged, “I love you, Bub.”

“I love you, James.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Marvel Taglist (add yourself to a taglist here!)(strike-through means I couldn’t tag you - please check your settings!)

@qhbr2013  @greeneyedblondie44  @april-showers-and-flowers  @softboiipascal @im-an-adult-ish  @patzammit  @niki-xie  @xxlovingfandomsxx  @startrekkingaroundasgard  @welcometothepedroverse  @actual-spawn-of-satan  @punkerthanpascal  @lazybeeches @someday-when-you-leave-me @justgivemethekeys @salome-c @rosiefridayrogersunday  @neptunesglow  @artsymaddie @haildoodles @amneris21 @star017 @irepostthingsiwanttoseelater @its–fandom–darling @ayamenimthiriel @alyispunk @djarinbarnes @edencherries @ashamed23 @sunsetskywalkerr  @nikkixostan @spookispunk @cable-kenobi @ironicfoxes  @cc13723things @gooddaykate @natthebattygeologist @sociallyantisocialbutterfly @n3ssm0nique @daughterofthenight117 @riddikulus-obsessions @imaginelover88 @saint-bvcky  @sleep-tight1 @missstef23 @moonlacebeam @asylummara @wakandabiitch2 @hoodedbirdie @mysweetlittledesire @reallyloudstarlight @vintagepigeon @froggyy06 @fleurydelacoury @veil-of-time @queenbeean @deedepee @kenzieam @luxeavenger @dobbyjen @bbl32 @frickin-bats @caprisunsister @spacedadmando @bucks-bunny @starlightcrystalline​

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Aaron Hotchner / Worth Your While

Prompts: The Beard Hotch Fic™ - inspired by that one episode where hotch has a beard and all of us collectively lost our minds 

Word count: 3.728

Warnings: E, phone sex, mutual masturbation, beard kink (i guess that’s a thing??), oral (f receiving), i don’t know just smut

Image Credit: @agenthotchner​

“Still don’t know when you’re coming back?” 

A sigh floated through the phone, “Not yet,” you hum, climbing into bed on top of your covers, your legs folded underneath you. You hear his cot creak underneath him. You hummed, as you placed your pillow beside you, if you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine that he was lying there beside you. 

“Enjoying the hot Pakistani desert a bit too much, Hotch?” a small chuckle leaves his throat, voice gruff over the line. 

“I would enjoy it a lot more if you and Jack were with me,” your chest aches at the sound of the weariness in his voice. He was so tired — and now you couldn’t even take care of him. Another sigh leaves his lips, before he adds, a ghost of a laugh in his voice,  “although he’s not a fan of the beard.” 

You raise your eyebrows, “Really?” 

“His exact words were, ‘do they not sell razors there, Dad?’” you snort, turning onto your side, “I think I’m going to shave it off before I get back.” 

“Ah let’s not rush it,” you bit your lip, running your fingers over your bare neck, “why don’t we ask for some other opinions before we jump to conclusions?” 

You could practically hear his eyebrow raise over the phone, “And what’s your opinion, sweetheart?” his voice is low and scratchy, and you can almost imagine his fingers tucking your hair behind your ear as he murmured the question against your neck. 

You feel a heat begin to climb up your neck, and down your body, “I don’t think you should shave,” 

“You don’t think?” he presses, and you hear the cot groan again as he shifts, “or I shouldn’t?”

“You shouldn’t,” you swallowed, fingers drifting down to the waistband of your shorts, “not until you see me again.” 

“And what are you going to do when you see me again?” you whimper, fingers past the elastic of your shorts, your fingers drift against your soaked panties, “answer me.” You gasp his name as your fingers circle your clit, “are you touching yourself?” 

“Yes,” you say, breath uneven as he shifts in his cot again, more this time, “I need you, Aaron, I—” 

“Call me on video call,” he hisses, and you know his fingers are around his length, the video call feed only confirming it, “see what you do to me,” his pants are gruff and short, “show me what you’re doing.” You flip the camera from your face to the middle of your thighs, your hand hidden beneath the fabric of your obviously drenched underwear, “Pull those off, I want to see you. I want to see exactly what I’m doing to you.” 

Your underwear slides down your thighs, slowly, as you lift your hips for the camera. And his breath hitches when he sees you — soaking wet and two fingers deep in your pussy, “Aaron, fuck, I miss you—” 

“What do you miss?” there’s an edge to his voice, an urgency, but still, his voice is hushed and quiet, tension thrumming in the air, “tell me what you want me to do to you.” 

“Is that an order, sir?” and you hear him groan quietly over the phone that hangs in the silence of the desert. 

“Fuck, yes, it is,” he growls, and he hears a quiet hum leave your throat, and he knows you’re enjoying this — all too much, but not as much as if he were actually there. If he had two thick fingers pressed inside of you. His mouth swallowing all the little noises leaving your throat, until his lips sucked dark bruises against the hollow of your throat. 

“I would want you to pin me down, your fingers parting my thighs,” quick gasps part your lips, filling the silence of his tent, and you wonder — could someone hear you if you were just a little too loud? Could a colleague hear your desperate cries of his name, you begging him for his cock, his mouth, his fingers — anything, “feel your beard against my thighs as you wrap your tongue around my clit, fingers inside me, like mine are now—” Your fingers sink deeper, adding another with a loud gasp, your hips rolling against your hand, “and I’d cum all over your face.” His beard slick with your cum, as he kisses you again, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. 

“Then, you want me to fuck you hard, don’t you?” a helpless whine parts your throat at his words, low and sharp, “But still, I’d sink into you, slowly, let you feel every inch of myself part you — wet and tight — for me.” 

You arch your back against your bed, Only for him. 

“Aaron, please, I need to see you — see your face—” You’re close — he doesn’t need to see your face to know that. And you know he hears it — hears you preen against you, and in the quiet silence of your bedroom, and his hand squeezes his cock. Fuck, and he abides by your request — shows you his face contorted in quietly controlled pleasure, his teeth against his bottom lip, until he hears you. 

“Aaron, I’m—” he groans, far too loud for the quiet desert and conscious colleagues that surrounded him. But it only further pushes you over the edge, thinking about that groan in your ear, pressing kisses against your neck, fucking you hard and fast until your walls tighten around your fingers, phone falling from your hand. But not before you hear him say your name, reverent and breathy.

Your fingers begin to still, the feeling of your fingers carrying you through your orgasm, chest rising and falling in quick pants. Your body slumps against your mattress, boneless, eyes squeezed shut. That is, until you hear a voice on the phone. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, reaching for the phone, “sorry, did you say something?” 

“I love you,” he murmurs, voice deep and blissed out — and you can almost feel the words of love vibrate against your skin, “I miss you, so much.” 

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder?” you offer, flipping the camera so he could see your face, “but phone sex definitely helps.” 

A smile pulls at his lips, “It does, but it’s not enough.” 

“No, nothing compares to the real thing,” you sigh, rolling over on your bed, “but luckily, the real thing is waiting for you when you get back,” and then you add, “Just don’t shave the beard.” 

He runs a hand through his beard, “Yes ma’am. You’ll make it worth my while?” 

You grin, tilting your head, “Don’t I always?” 

~~~

Hotch leaned against the headrest of the airplane seat, stuffed between two sleeping passengers — this was certainly different than using the jet. Not that he was complaining — he needed to get back. He resisted the urge to drum his fingers on the arm rests. 

Ian Doyle. That was a name he had spent several months trying to forget. The events of what happened still haunted him, but even more than that, the lies he had to tell the team wore away at him. Guilt gnawed at his insides, a pit in his stomach that he was sure would give way. 

He had to do it. He had no choice. He was the team’s leader. He had to make the hard decisions. He had to bear the burden. But he only wished he didn’t have to do it at the team’s expense. 

He rubbed at his eyes. Watching them cry and mourn, listening to them grieve right in front of him, as he evaluated each of them for field work — it had killed him. And now it would all come out. Prentiss was alive. And they had kept it from them. He had kept it from them. 

But there was no use thinking about the fallout. Not when he was on a plane miles away from its destination still. No, he needed to think about something else. 

He glanced at his phone, smiling at the picture of you and Jack smiling back at him. He remembered the day they had taken that photo. It was your first time spending time with Jack. He never met someone who clicked so easily with Jack — after everything that had happened with Haley, Jack was a little quieter, a little more reserved (not so dissimilar to himself, you had pointed out to him). But with you, it was different. He would smile. He would laugh. He understood. He knew you and you knew him. And he was so grateful for that. 

And he was so grateful for you. 

His fingers rubbed at his chin, still prickly with his beard. He had kept his promise — he had kept it for you. Even though Jack would be less than pleased. He would be staying with Jessica either way while he dealt with the situation at hand. He wouldn’t be getting much sleep the next few days — he knew that for sure. But even so, the prospect of seeing you soon made his chest feel a little lighter. No longer would date night consist of a hurried dinner and possible phone sex. Now, he could hold you, he could touch you, and he could fall asleep to your quiet breaths, instead of to a far too hot desert and a lonely cot. 

And the best part? He hadn’t told you that he was coming back yet. And he didn’t think he was going to, until he was at your doorstep. 

~~~

“How was work today?” Hotch gave a heavy sigh over the phone, and you put down the bowl of dough you had been stirring, “Aaron?” 

“It was a hard day,” he cleared his throat, “we saved a kid, but he saw his father die in front of him.” 

“Aaron,” you wished you could touch him, could comfort him, no words were enough for times like this, “you couldn’t have done anything more. You saved his life.” 

“I know, I just—” he clicked his tongue, “I just wish it didn’t turn out that way.” 

“And that’s why you’re one of the good guys,” you smile at your phone, “and that’s why you can’t let it eat away at you — you still have your own little boy to come home too. Not to mention, your very patient girlfriend.” 

He laughed, a soft noise that made your heart stutter in its chest, “You have been very patient, haven’t you?” 

“I have,” you hummed, perking up at the tone of his voice — appreciative and teasing — “got something to reward me with?” 

“I actually might,” and you bit your lip, “but you’ll have to do me a favor.” 

“This is my reward, and I have to do you a favor?” you clicked your tongue, “doesn’t seem very fair, Agent Hotchner.” 

“I know all about fairness, sweetheart. After all, I did study it in law school,” you could almost see him shaking his head, a smile dancing across his lips, “I just need you to open your door.” 

“Open my door?” you wiped your hands clean, before grabbing the phone off the counter, making your way to your door. You spotted the back of someone’s head through the peephole. Locks clicking as you undid the lock and the deadbolt, you held the phone between your shoulder and your cheek,  “Aaron Hotchner, did you order me dinner again? Because I told you I already—” 

You gasped, your phone clattering against your hardwood floors. Aaron stood, hands in his pockets, a smile on his lips, as he tilted his head, “No, but I did bring dessert.” 

“Aaron!” you ran into his arms, hands on his shoulders, face buried in his chest, “I can’t believe this. You’re back. You’re here.” 

“I am,” he whispers, running his fingers through your hair, “and I’m not going anywhere now.” 

You pulled away, “You’re back for good?” and he nods, as your fingers cup his face, thumbs running over his cheeks, and you note the bristle underneath your fingertips, “and I see you kept your promise.” 

“Of course, I’m a man of my word,” he breaths, leaning closer as your breath hitches, his lips pressing against yours. It had been months, and you had nearly forgotten how he tasted, lips moving firmly against your own. His teeth grazed your lip, as he eagerly swallowed your moan, as your hands tangled themselves in his hair, walking backwards, as he shut the door with his foot, “I missed you so much,” he says in between kisses that stole the air from your lungs. 

Your hands pushed the jacket from his shoulders, “I missed you too,” his hands squeezed your hips, before his hands slipped your thighs, lifting you against him, as he carried you to your bedroom. No longer could you tell where you began and he ended, but you didn’t care — not when his teeth grazed against your pulse point like that. He had you pressed flush against your bedroom door, lips burning a trail of kisses down your neck, fingers toying with the straps of your camisole. 

“Take me to bed,” you whispered, and he did — placing you on your bed, and in a second, he was on top of you. 

Your fingers busied themselves with undoing the buttons on his button down, while his slid the hem of your camisole higher and higher. You undid the last button and the shirt slid off his shoulders, and he lifted his arms as you did away with the undershirt immediately. Your fingers traced over the broad expanse of his chest reverently, enjoying how his muscles reacted to your touch and how his breath stuttered his chest when your fingers grazed him. The same man who stayed calm under pressure crumbled under your touch. 

You raised your arms and he slipped the camisole from your body, groaning when he realized you had no bra on underneath. His fingers teased your nipples, mouth wrapped around one of them, “Aaron,” you arched your back into his touch, your fingers slipping between your bodies, trying to undo the button on his pants. His teeth grazed your nipple, soothing the sting with the flat of his tongue, “please,” 

You undo the button of his pants, and pull them down, helping him kick them off. He whispers your name, pressing a kiss to the skin between your breasts, before tucking fallen strands of hair behind your ear, “What do you want, baby?” 

Your eyes fall to the prominent bulge in his boxers, “Fuck me,” you look up at him, thumb brushing his lips, and he smiles, pressing another heated kiss to your lips. 

“Not before I taste you,” he says, voice husky, as he burns a trail of openmouthed kisses down your body, re-familiarizing himself with every curve and dip of your body, until the fire in the pit of your stomach all but engulfs you. He tugs your sleep shorts down, as you lift your hips to help him, kicking them off. His calloused hands part your thighs, as he settles between them. You watch him with lidded eyes, breath stuck somewhere in the back of your throat. A low groan rumbles in his chest at the sight of your obviously soaked panties. You hiss as his beard scratches beautifully against your thighs, friction making you squirm, until his large palms steadied you. Fingers splayed over the soft skin of your inner thighs, his nose brushing far too close to your soaked center, as he kisses right below the waistband. 

“I had forgotten how good you smell,” he murmurs, another kiss, this time right on top of the wet spot on your panties. 

He spreads you wider, hips jumping as your heart does in your chest, when his fingers brush your slit through the thin fabric. He doesn’t remove them, no, instead, he slides the crotch aside placing you on full display for him, half wrapped in that silk fabric. You hiss when you feel his warm breath mingling with the cool air of the room. His tongue darts out across his lips, looking at you with half-lidded eyes, before leaning down to press a kiss to your warmth. 

His moan vibrates against you, a reverent noise of unrestrained passion and you know that this is just as much for him as it is for you, sending shivers down your spine of what’s to come.  A single finger begins to part your folds, as his mouth presses butterfly kisses all around your clit, his beard deliciously grazing against your thighs. And finally, he takes a single broad swipe up his tongue up the length of your weeping cunt. A gasp blooms into a moan, as your fingers grasp at him, traveling the length of his shoulders, until you are able to card your fingers through his dark strands. 

His tongue moves in tight circles, your muscles squeezing his thick finger, as keen against him, eager for more, more. As you always were for him, and only him. Desperate for his touch, even when he couldn’t provide it. His beard only stokes the fire coiling in your stomach, now burning against your cunt. 

The phone sex seemed like a distant memory, a cheap imitation of the real thing. Nothing, nothing could compare to his lips, his tongue, his teeth, his touch. Nothing could compare your fingers threaded through his hair, his moans quietly reverberating against your slick folds. Nothing could compare to him — the sweet man who had just come back after spending weeks away from his home, his family, his friends, his life — but he chose to spend this night with you. 

Another finger parts your folds, and a broken whine leaves your throat, as your head falls against your plush bed, “You take me so well, sweetheart,” he mutters, tongue flicking against your clit, as you lift your eyes to meet his gaze, “so good to me. So patient. So sweet.” 

And that’s when his mouth closes over your clit. Your hips rock against the flat palms of his hands, as his tongue flicks against it. And the coil in you snaps, his name a ghost upon your lips, a soundless scream on your lips. You feel him hum against you, far too pleased, but you barely notice, lost in your own high. But he does not relent, pulling your orgasm from you as his fingers scrape against your shuddering walls, tongue eagerly tasting all that you offer him. 

He drags himself back up to you, his hardness brushing the inside of your thigh. His fingers trace your jawline, as your eyelids flutter, watching his tongue dart across his chin, still glistening with your release. His lips quickly follow the paths scorched by his fingertips. His lips find yours again when your breaths are even, and even now you can’t get enough of him. 

You arch towards him, fingers sliding down his chest to the waistband of his boxers, “Sweetheart,” a strangled groan of your name on lips still sticky with your cum, and he stares at you, eyes black as the darkness that surrounds you, as you slide his boxers down finally. 

You both groan in tandem, as your fingers close around his length, flushed and weeping. His hips lean into your touch, the head of his cock brushing your folds. 

“Aaron,” you shake your head, “I need you.” 

“Where do you need me?” his voice barely above a rasp. He rips your hand from him, pinning both your wrists to either side of your head. He presses another kiss to your skittering heartbeat. 

“I need you to fuck me—” you gasp, as his teeth scrape against your neck, pressing soft kisses against its length, before sucking a pretty bruise against the hollow of your throat, “please.” 

He sinks into you then, sliding into your warmth, murmuring in your ear. Your mouth falls open, “Even after all this time, you take me so well,” his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thigh as he lifts your leg over his shoulder, “I love you.” 

His name is a prayer, his touch is your salvation, as his nails dig crescents into the curve of your hips, “Missed you so much—” his own snap against you harder, deeper,  “needed you so bad. I love you. I love you.” 

“I want to feel you cum for me, sweetheart,” his fingers skim your clit, and that’s it. You come apart underneath him, veins no longer filled with blood, but with pleasure. His hips stutter as your muscles flutter around his cock, still fucking you through your orgasm, as his fingers make you jump against him, “Say my name,” he growls, as your arms wind around his shoulder, tugging him closer, closer, closer, “say it.” 

 And you do, just as he cums inside of you with a groan of your name in your ear, nearly collapsing on you. He presses into you, and it’s much too warm, the sticky heat and smell of sex pervades, but you don’t care. Still you tug him closer, chest to chest, as your eyes shut. You feel him come down from his high, his breath slowing. He pulls himself out, and your body mourns his absence. He curls up beside you for a moment, his finger drawing absentminded circles on your thigh. You look at him, a smile pulling at your lips as you find him staring at you. And you press kisses to him — to his shoulder and neck, your fingers sweeping his hair out of his eyes. 

But his gaze still persists, “What?” you ask softly, your fingers tracing his jaw, enjoying the scratch of his beard against your fingertips. 

“Should I keep the beard?” and you laugh, shaking your head, as you lay back on the pillow. 

“I think you should do whatever you want to do,” and he kisses you again, full and warm and happy, “and I think you should definitely take Jack’s opinion into mind.” 

He raises a brow, a smile on his lips, “Will you still make it worth my while?” 

You roll your eyes, fingers cupping his cheek, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, “I will always make it worth your while.” 

Tags: @bucky-of-the-opera, @agenthotchner, @sammy-babes, @hommoturttle, @flightsoffandom, @penelopecult, @good-heavens-chris-evans, @tgibstan, @ssacandi-ass-prentiss, @daddy-hot-chner, @ilytgibs, @spencerreidisgodly, @aquila-leo, @gabile18, @kurtsieforlife, @kinkyassvampire, @aaronelishotch, @spooky-muldy, @thecharmingart, @emma-alysee, @honeyshores, @tegggeeee, @evee87, @missbrightside13, @antmnwasp, @stardust-fray, @pansexualh, @hearmecallinyou, @arabellathorne, @llemmapie, @hecklleandjyde, @anonymous-0tter, @jdougl-love, @musiharrystyles, @spencerhotchner, @purpleturtle31extra, @blatant-attitude, @nuiboo, @shamelesslyf, @just-a-nat, @genevievedarcygranger​, @captain-christopher-pike, @natienerd, @unsocialized-nerd​, @zoerayne2426​, @hp-marvel-starwars-kotlc​, @aannamaria98​, @infj-slytherclaw​, @i-am-addicted-to-tea​, @lghenry4​, @geekgirl007​, @rintheemolion​, @m00sethemurderer​, @justevraimentconfus​, @elite4cekalyma​, @soloriormora​, @b-is-for-brynn​, @willows-studies​, @dreila03​, @skittle479​, @kalexp​, @peachymomosblog​, @retromami​, @ijustwantanapandtocallitaday​, @a-disaster-bisexual​, @daydreamingandbooks​, @joemazzello-imagines​, @wargoddesss​, @pann1247​, @giveusbackourbucky​, @justanotherbrunette​, @1mailefigueroa1​, @yes-sir-hotchner​, @kitachan21​, @smiles1994​, @criminallyfanatic​, @ange-must-die​, @lotties-journey-abroad​, @marvels-agents100​, @criminalmindsgonewrong​, @captain-christopher-pike​, @therestisconfettis​, @asuckerforyou​, @ephemeral-barnes​

[cherryskyies]

The slashers reacting to their s/o passing out.

This was requested by anon!

Includes: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger, Pennywise, and Ghostface!!

“I was wondering if I can have hcs with Michael, Jason, Freddy, Pennywise and Ghost face reacting to their female!s/o passing out? Thank you”

I hope you and everyone else who reads this enjoys it!

Warnings: Suggestive nsfw with Michael. Not any actual nsfw though.

Main Masterlist

(Take this gif, it’s all I can offer photo wise)

Michael

Confused. One minute you were standing in the kitchen cooking dinner, Michael beside you leaning against the counter, and the next you were on the ground. I mean, honestly, he should have known you were going to pass out but he took your slow and wobbly self as the aftermath of last night (wink wOnk)

Stares at you. Michael will watch you for a second before taking any action. Once he realizes you aren’t getting up, he takes it upon himself to lift you and drag you to your shared bedroom. Michael couldn’t just leave you there, he isn’t a total monster.

Finishes cooking, kind of. This man can not cook, so instead of finishing up what you started, he takes it off the stove and stores it away for when you wake up. He might clean up a little, only if he’s feeling generous though. You were lucky he didn’t just leave you on the kitchen floor and eat some snacks while he waited for you to awake and finish dinner.

Jason

You knew what was going to happen before it actually happened. This isn’t the first time you’ve passed out, but it’s definitely the first time Jason has. You were on your way to the bathroom when the dizzy spell and black dots hit. You tried supporting yourself on the wall as you walked, hoping it would pass. Instead of it passing though, you passed out. The thump alerting Jason.

Freaks out. Jason freaks the fuck out. All he knows is one second you were getting up to use the bathroom, and now you were in front of him unresponsive and lying on the floor. Thank god for his mother though, she calmly informed him that you probably passed out, and to check your pulse and place you on the bed till you wake.

Doesn’t leave your side. For the 5 whole minutes you were knocked out, Jason didn’t leave. Hell, he almost crushed you with a hug when you did wake up. ‘You had him worried sick, (Y/N)!’ Next time, try to inform him that you feel like passing out so he doesn’t freak again.

Freddy

One of the few times he was in the real world with you. He was rarely ever in the physical world with you. Usually, he preferred when you two spent time together in his world. But sometimes you’d convince him to join you and he’d agree. This was one of those nights.

You were happily making popcorn out in the kitchen when it hit. You didn’t want to alarm Freddy or anything, thinking that it would just pass and you’d be good for the movie night you two planned. Well, you were wrong. Just as the microwave signaled for the popcorn being done, you fell. It wasn’t a long-lasting pass out, your vision cleared and you were awake once you hit the ground. That still didn’t stop Freddy from rushing in worried.

Scolded you for not telling him right away. “I may not show it as much as I’d like, but I really care about you darling and if you get injured because you didn’t tell me you felt sick or something, I might just have to keep you in the dream realm where you can’t get hurt.”

Pennywise

He was out doing his usual scaring and killing business while you were “home” cooking. The food was mainly for you as Pennywise didn’t need to eat human food. Every now and then he would eat some just to taste though. You were going for the spices when you slipped on a water pile and crashed against the floor, your head hitting against it hard causing you to pass out.

You were out for around 30 minutes, the feeling of someone shaking you awaking you. When you opened your eyes, you were met with Pennywise’s yellow ones. He was obviously worried and why? You had no clue as you were just starting to regain your senses. “Oh, hey Penny.” You greeted, to which he frowned. “Why are you on the floor, love? And why do I smell blood?”

That’s when it hit you. ‘You were cooking dinner and when you went for the spices and slipped on a water puddle.’ You groaned, the ache in the back of your head making itself known. “Haha, yeah I fell earlier when I was cooking. Sorry.”

It’s safe to say he was not impressed and contemplated banning your kitchen privileges, the only thing stopping him was you being the only one that knows how to cook.

Ghost face

You both should have seen it coming. He had scolded you multiple times today to eat, and each time you would nod and say “Yeah yeah, I will after I complete this.” You’ve just been so busy today that the thought of food totally slipped by you and he would always scold you about it when you were busy.

By the end of the night, you were finally done with work. And planning to keep your promise that you would eat something by the time he came home, you set your laptop down and got up to walk to the kitchen. Halfway to the kitchen, you felt light-headed and black dots blurred your vision. Too busy trying to stay up and walking, you didn’t hear the door open or your name get called.

Disappointed. He was disappointed, but not surprised. This wasn’t the first time (and it won’t be the last) you were too caught up in work to eat, even with the hourly scolding he’d give. This was the first time it got so bad you passed out though. Even though you were out maybe 20 seconds, he was still scared and promised he’d force-feed you soup the next time he had to tell you to eat more than once.

[seokiie]

𝚆𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 (𝙼)

+ 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 (𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯) 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

+𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2.2𝘬+

+ 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬/𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

+ 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘫𝘰𝘣, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘴' 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵

It wasn't every day that you were invited out to a dinner party.

It wasn't every day that Jungkook himself invited you out to a dinner party.

As soon as you'd gotten the call, you searched through your closet for your nicest dress. It just so happened that your nicest dress was also your skimpiest. Welp, you had plenty of cardigans you could wear.

The reason Jungkook inviting you out to a dinner party was such a rare deal was simply because he liked keeping his work life and personal life separate. During the duration of your year-long relationship, you'd only ever met his six other bandmates three times. Three times. Of course, you knew it was in his best interest to keep you as far away from his busy idol life as possible. You only really met up in private to avoid prying cameras and invasive fans. He was also a bit possessive and uncharacteristically jealous for someone as hot as himself. He's always said things like, 'you're mine, don't even think about looking at other men'. You never had any complaints, though - a possessive Jungkook never failed to set your skin on fire.

"Wah, this is what you're wearing? You're really trying to make dinner difficult for me, huh." Jungkook looks up at you as you slide into the booth next to him, a wide smirk on his face. You'd arrived at the fancy restaurant via private car. It was safer if no one saw you arrive. When you're seated at the table with the seven men, you look around and realize that the whole establishment is empty, not counting the few bodyguards and waiters littered around.

"I couldn't find anything else under the lines of 'fancy but not too fancy, but still fancy enough for a fancy restaurant'." You laugh quietly and scoot closer to him till your thighs were just barely touching. You haven't seen him in almost three weeks. He had a busy schedule along with some overseas promos but you're just glad he's finally back.

"Regardless you look fucking delicious- I mean, that isn't quite appropriate for this setting..." You watch as his eyes roam over your frame hungrily. A familiar warmth curls through your body when a big hand covers your bare thigh. "You look fucking delightful."

"Ah, look at our Jungkookie! He's flirting, cute." Jimin giggles from where he's sat on the other side of Jungkook. You and a few of the other members laugh. Jungkook can't help laughing as well.

The dinner carries on nicely. You'd been a bit nervous at first because you didn't know the other members too well, but it seems you were nervous for no reason. Hoseok in particular managed to break you out of your shell the most with his antics and smiley demeanor. Somehow just sitting across from him made you excited.

A few minutes after placing orders, some appetizers are brought out while dinner is being made. While you were drifting between quiet and sociable, you weren't too fond of the fact that Jungkook had only said two sentences to you over the past thirty minutes - and that was when you arrived. Maybe you were just being overly clingy. You weren't gonna lie, you were pretty touch starved after going Jungkook-free for a couple of weeks.

You place a hand on his leg, just above his knee under the table. You were rightfully seeking attention in your opinion.

He doesn't seem to notice the hand on his leg and continues his conversation with Seokjin who was sitting across the table. Fine. You'd turn it up a notch.

"Y/n, it's been so long since we saw you. It's been three months I think." You look up to meet eyes with whoever was talking to you. It was Hoseok.

"Oh, yeah! I know how busy you guys are. You all work so hard."

"Ah, we try. By the way, if you're comfortable, you can talk casually. We've known each other long enough... even if we don't talk often." Hoseok gives a warm smile and you're dully aware of Jungkooks thigh tensing under your hand slightly. When you look over, he seems to still be conversing with Jin. You smirk.

"If it's alright with you. I heard working overseas was stressful, I was so worried when Jungkook called me..." You continue talking to Hoseok for a bit.

Jungkook was doing a good job ignoring the conversation going on to his right, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little frustrated. He knows he shouldn't get mad at his friend talking casually to his girlfriend but come on. Everyone knew he had a little green monster sitting on his shoulder, especially you.

It isn't until he feels your almost searing hand crawl up his thigh that he fully grasps the situation. You knew he had a little green monster sitting on his shoulder. You knew this and you were talking to his hyung casually while touching him deliberately under the table. Did you want his attention that bad?

Sometimes Jungkook seriously wondered how his relationship with you worked out because you were so petty and holy shit, he was petty, too. So, so petty. If this was a game, he was not going to back down. He'd make sure you wouldn't get an ounce of his attention tonight.

That proves easier said than done because not only five minutes later, your hand is rubbing teasingly slow up and down his thigh, dangerously close to where his cock is nestled safely inside his dress pants.

Jungkook barely notices the way his legs open a little wider, inadvertently asking for more of your touch. Whatever Seokjin was talking about, Jungkook can't remember. Half his brain was focusing on trying not to get hard and the other half was trying to keep a straight face. Luckily, he was a good actor.

His dick? Not so much.

A minute passes before the teasing stops and suddenly there's a hand palming him through his designer clothes. Mid-sentence, he cuts himself off with a gasp. It's been so long since someone has touched him - since he's touched himself.

"You okay, Jungkook?" Jimin asks from beside him and Jungkook has no choice but to twist his startled expression into a small smile.

"Fine, just hungry. Can't wait for the food to come out." Jimin makes a sound of agreement. Thankfully, he doesn't hold his attention for long. Jimin turns back around to continue talking to Namjoon after giving him a concerned look. As soon as he's sure there are no eyes on him, Jungkook grabs your arm tightly and yanks you closer to him a little too roughly. This wasn't entirely uncommon. Jungkook was really, really strong and sometimes he forgot that he was... really, really strong. He had the tendency to drag you around and expressed guilt a few times thinking he's hurt you. In reality, it wasn't too bad and for some reason, you kind of enjoyed having Jungkook jerk you around. Especially in bed.

"Fuck do you think you're doing?" Jungkook says in a tone you can only describe as yelling as quietly as he can. His lips just barely ghosted over the shell of your ear and in an attempt to regain authority, you rub him a little harder through his pants, digging your palm slightly into the obvious bulge forming there. You can feel his cock twitch under your hand and he bites back a gasp.

"Nothing." You comment almost nonchalantly.

"Do you want to die? I'll give you a chance to let go, maybe I'll go easy on you when we get home." Jungkook hisses in your ear and now it's your turn to bite back a gasp. Negligent of his proposition, you continue touching him. Surprisingly, he had managed to get fully hard already, his cock having thickened up and now left a visible mark in his pants.

"Ah, foods here. Jungkook, your steak." At the sound of his name, Jungkook lets go of your arm almost as if your skin burned him. Seokjin takes the plates from the waiter and hands them to the respective member with Namjoon's help. Your food is placed in front of you but you barely pay any attention to it. How could you when there was a way better meal sitting right next to you?

The dinner continues like this for a bit. You stop touching him for a little while, waiting till he lets his guard down and brings a fork full of steak up to his mouth before returning your hand to his clothed length. He lets out a surprised, almost choked out moan only to slap a hand over his mouth. You have to hold back a snigger.

"Kookie, you sure you're okay?" Taehyung is looking at the maknae expectantly now, humor evident in his tone.

"Mmh!" Jungkook chokes back another moan when your hand unzips his dress pants and dips past the material. Why was he so sensitive all of a sudden? "'m alright! I'm- this steak, mmh, it's so good..."

"Is it really that good? Maybe I should've ordered that one..." Taehyung pouts slightly before poking at his salad. Whenever they went out to eat, Taehyung would order the coolest sounding thing on the menu, end up disappointed, then it would result in him eating the other member's food. Of course, they all happily offered to feed their precious Taehyungie - things like this always worked out in the end.

You continue your assault under the table, getting accustomed to Jungkook's length after weeks apart. There's a familiar curl of warmth under your skin when your thumb brushes over the thick head of his cock, his boxers wet with precum. How was he leaking already? The Jungkook you knew prided himself for being able to last almost five hours in bed, yet here he was, keening, thick and hard, dripping with precum after a little bit of fondling through his pants. There's a distinct feeling of power that flows through your blood at that thought.

"Hm, Jungkookie? Is it really that good?" You say quietly enough that only the man next to you can hear. Your tone was awfully smug and Jungkook didn't like that at all, not one bit.

"I'm going to fucking wreck you later, do you understand? Doing- shit- doing something like this in public? Ah, I didn't peg you as an exhibitionist." Jungkook's legs open a little wider and you really can't tell if it's subconscious or if he's doing it on purpose. Either way, it was clear he was enjoying it just as much as you were.

"I didn't peg you as an exhibitionist. You're so hard..." You say in awe. At some point during this whole encounter, you'd managed to forget just exactly why you were doing this. To be completely honest, you didn't really care.

"Wait, hah, y/n-ah..." Jungkook sputters out as quietly as he can. He had one hand on the edge of the lavish wooden table, gripping it with so much force his knuckles were turning white. You ignore his quiet pleas and instead slide your fingers over the sensitive vein that bulged on the side of his cock. You recognized it almost immediately even if you couldn't see it. Why wouldn't you recognize it - especially when you'd dragged your tongue over it so many times before. It never failed to make him go crazy.

"Y/n-ah, seriously... it's too- you're gonna-" Jungkook's legs open a bit more, his body aching for more stimulation as he bucked his hips up slightly. His cock twitches strenuously and before you can even think to pull your hand away, he's coming hard into his boxers.

Almost perfectly timed, his hand slips on the table and he knocks his wine glass over, spilling expensive alcohol all over the fancy wood and all over Taehyung's salad. The clanging of the glass on the table along with the way everyone gasps in shock overshadows the throaty moan that Jungkook lets out. He couldn't restrain it even if he tried.

"Ah, my salad!" Taehyung curses despite the fact he hasn't touched the salad more than once since it was served. Hoseok laughs at Jungkook's clumsiness and Taehyung's waterboarded salad.

"You weren't eating it anyway." Namjoon rolls his eyes and raises his hand to get the attention of a waiter. "Can we get some napkins? Or paper towels, please?"

As Namjoon and Jimin make an attempt to wipe up some of the spilled wine, you remove your hand from your boyfriend's pants. His cum had soaked through his boxers and there was a majority of it on your fingers. You didn't mind one bit.

Jungkook's eyes are far away for a moment as he comes down from the high of his first orgasm in weeks. As soon as his vision clears, you make sure the first thing he sees is you cleaning his cum off your fingers with your tongue. His eyes darken impossibly.

"I leave for a few weeks and this is what you do? You can't even wait till we're alone? The audacity of this girl." Jungkook mumbles, dialect peaking through. He quickly zips up his dress pants and he shivers at the uncomfortable feeling of cum in his boxers. He needed to get home and change asap.

"And you're laughing about it, too?" You giggle and nod. He sucks his teeth.

"I wasn't lying when I said I'd wreck you, princess." An almost sinister smirk pulls at Jungkook's lips and your smile all but falls. "Clearly, I need to give you some obedience training."

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

[© seokiie]

[I do not allow any translating, editing, reposting, or use of any my work!!]

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 15: Silk and Salt

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

A real date.

Mulder hasn’t been on a blatant, show-up-with-roses, ‘I’m into you and would like to get laid maybe’ date in a good five years. Possibly longer; he really doesn’t remember at this point. His life before Scully seems strangely two-dimensional in memory these days.

Part of him thinks that fancy dinners or elegant nights out don’t really seem like their style, but he figures they can decide together after the fact. They have to try it at least once, right? God knows she deserves it.

They’re busy with Mulder’s Gettysburg ghost case for the next few days (he was right, which Scully would not accept), but by Wednesday things have settled down, and he’s able to plan.

“Saturday, May sixteenth, at five,” he announces without preamble on Thursday morning. “I’ll pick you up. And don’t be alarmed, but I’ll be wearing a tuxedo.”

“Okay,” she says, surprised. “I take it this is the date I requested?”

“Yes it is,” he replies. “But that’s all I’m going to reveal. The details are a surprise, and if I recall correctly, somebody wanted to keep personal discussions outside of working hours, so by that metric I’ve already said too much.”

Scully presses her lips together, nodding. “Say no more,” she says. “Now where’s your report?”

He’s not nervous. He’s a grown man; a federal agent, for fuck’s sake. This is nothing compared to some of the tense situations he’s been in throughout his career. Knocking on his partner’s door with a bouquet of red roses under his arm doesn’t even make the list.

Regardless… he’s a little nervous.

Scully opens the door in a flurry of dark blue silk and delicate perfume. “Wow, hi,” she breathes, stepping back and opening the door wider. “Nice tux.”

“Thanks,” he says faintly, drinking in the sight of her.

She’s wearing a silky floor length slip dress with teeny little straps, and he has the fleeting image of snapping them with his teeth, leaving bite marks on her smooth shoulders. She sees him staring and smiles.

“Navy blue; exciting, isn’t it,” she says, gesturing sheepishly to the dress. “I can only handle one fashion adventure at a time.”

His eyes travel her body, appreciating the way the fabric skims her hips. “You look incredible, Scully,” he says, voice oddly hoarse. He clears his throat. “These are for you,” he adds unnecessarily, holding out the bouquet.

“Thank you,” she says, taking the roses. “These are gorgeous, Mulder. Let me put them in water.” She steps into the kitchen and sets the bouquet on the counter. “You know, the last time somebody gave me flowers, I was dying of cancer,” she says conversationally, bending to retrieve a vase from the cupboard under the sink. “Needless to say, this is a preferable occasion.”

“Mark didn’t…?”

“No,” Scully replies, filling the vase under the tap. “I think flowers happen less in real life than they do in movies, at least in my experience. I can count on one hand the number of times a date brought me a bouquet.”

“Nobody’s ever gotten me flowers, so I think I have you beat,” Mulder says.

“I’ll get you some sometime,” Scully says, and it doesn’t seem like she’s joking. She unwraps the stems and places them in the vase. “I’ll give them food and a fresh cut later,” she says, and Mulder nods as though he understands flower care. So water’s not enough…?

“So where are we going?” Scully asks, taking her wrap off the back of the couch and draping it over her shoulders. “I’m assuming - actually, hoping - there’s food involved.”

“I would never neglect to feed a lady,” Mulder assures her. “We have reservations somewhere, but that’s after this.” He withdraws an envelope from his jacket and hands it to her.

Scully peeks into the envelope and pulls out two tickets, scanning the tiny print. “The Kennedy Center?” she says in surprise.

He nods. “The National Symphony Orchestra is playing a selection of Vaughan Williams,” he replies. “Thought you might like it.”

“Mulder, this is amazing,” she says. “I haven’t heard live music in ages. It’s one of those things that’s hard to prioritize.” She slips the tickets back into the envelope and hands it back to him. “So, are you ready to go?” she asks, picking up her little evening bag, gathering the long chain in one hand. She loops the other around his elbow.

He tucks the tickets back into his jacket pocket. “Let’s go paint the town.”

In Mulder’s estimation, one of the best things about going to the symphony is that there’s not much to watch aside from the waving arms of the conductor. Therefore he feels free to close his eyes, absorb the music, daydream a little without risking missing anything important.

The most important thing, after all, is sitting right next to him.

He glances at Scully often, taking in her beautiful face, the rapturous look in her eyes, the elegant curve of her nose, her tender mouth. He loves the way she wore her hair tonight; it’s shiny and wavy, pulled back on one side with a little comb. He fantasizes about slipping the comb out of her hair, sifting his fingers through crimson strands as he draws her in for a kiss. Feeling tendrils brush his face as his lips travel to her earlobe, her neck…

She’s looking at him now, an eyebrow arched. He shrugs, heat in his cheeks as he faces forward again.

He feels something brushing his finger and glances down to see her small, manicured hand creep on top of his, their little fingers intertwining.

The music soars, and he floats away with it.

“That was wonderful,” she says as they walk out of the theatre. “The last piece especially, The Lark Ascending,” she notes, glancing at the program. “It was magical. I’m so glad we did this.”

“Not bad for our first real date?” Mulder asks, hand on the small of her back. He secretly relishes the slip the fabric beneath his palm.

“Not bad at all,” she replies, smiling up at him. God, what did he ever do to deserve that smile? He’s grossly inadequate.

Mulder glances at his watch when they reach his car. “I expected the concert to be longer,” he admits, wincing. “Our reservation isn’t until eight, at that French place on northwest M Street.”

At that exact moment, Mulder hears Scully’s stomach growl.

She looks up at him apologetically. “You can ignore that, can’t you?”

“How hungry are you, Scully?” he asks, leaning against the car. She grabs his elbow and pulls him forward. “Mulder, you’re going to get dusty,” she warns. “And I’ll admit I haven’t eaten much today… I’ll admit I was a little nervous.”

“You were nervous? Why?” he asks, concerned.

“Well, nervous and excited. Because this… this is new. It’s a good thing,” she explains, “But it’s going to take some time to get used to.”

He nods. “Adjusting.”

“Exactly.”

Her stomach lets out another rumble.

“Scully, we should eat now. We can save the restaurant for another time,” he says. “I can’t have you passing out on me; you’re the doctor in this partnership. What’re you in the mood for?”

She licks her lips. “Don’t laugh,” she warns. “Actually, let’s just start walking,” she says, looping an arm with his. “There’s a spot not far from here that I really like. It’ll be a surprise.”

This is incredible.

Mulder wasn’t aware that it was possible to fall this hard for a person, but Scully never ceases to amaze him. Of all the places she could have picked, she chose an ancient, cramped little fish and chips shop down by the Potomac. So here they are, dressed to the nines at a tiny table with two heaping baskets of fish and chips between them. Their ten minute walk had made them both a little warm; his jacket is off, shirt sleeves rolled up, bow-tie undone and hanging loosely around his neck. Scully’s shawl is draped over the back of her chair, her arms enticingly bare as she cuts tender sections off of a slab of crispy battered cod.

“People are staring at us,” she says in a low tone, dipping a bite of fish into the saggy paper cup of tartar sauce. “You think maybe we’re overdressed?”

He grins at her. “Might be. They’re all looking at you,” he insists. “A gorgeous redhead in a silk gown, chowing down on greasy seafood? It’s like spotting Halley’s Comet,”

She locks eyes with him as she chews, a smile quirking her lips. “You think I’m gorgeous?” she teases.

“Of course,” he replies easily, pouring ketchup over his chips. “And brilliant, and compassionate, and adorable, and-”

“Stop,” she implores, holding up a hand. “I can only handle one compliment at a time.”

“Then we gotta increase your stamina, Scully, because I could easily go on.”

“Oh could you?” she says, raising a brow. “I’d like to see that sometime.”

“I’m ready when you are,” he replies.

“Mm,” she hums, busying herself with her fork. “I’ll keep you posted.”

He leans forward, knees bumping hers beneath the postage stamp-sized table. “Can I confess something?”

“Sure,” she replies, popping a chip into her mouth and brushing salt off her fingertips.

“I can’t stop thinking about kissing you again. I would have earlier but your lipstick looked really nice and I didn’t want to smudge it.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Wow,” she says softly. She drops her hand to the table, runs a fingertip over his knuckles. “Well, when we get out of here…” she trails off suggestively.

He hopes she doesn’t notice him start to chew faster.