#but I don’t think she’s very touchy-feely. or comfortable voicing her feelings

[softfuzzyships]

oops. sorry was that too forward

[coryosmin]

ok, picture this:

coryo x shy!innocent!fem!reader who desperately wants to know what it's like to be eaten out :( but of course she's too nervous to say anything because she feels selfish wanting to be eaten out until she can't form words 🙄 but coryo is determined to make her see stars!!!!!

-🛀anon

yes yes 100% yes

nsfw | mdni

okay so like imagine this as a part two of innocence

you and coryo are in your bedroom, just hanging out together as you’re talking about anything and everything under the sun. it’s been a few days since you lost your virginity to him and you both remained the same afterwards, though coryo was definitely much more touchy feely than he used to be. and randomly, you begin to think about his lips and how plush they are.

and suddenly you’re thinking dirty thoughts about your best friend. like how his lips would feel on your pussy and how his tongue would inside of you. and now you’re blushing as you look at coryo, who’s telling you a story about something stupid that Festus had said earlier in the day.

“did you hear me?” coryo asked, snapping in front of your face.

“huh?” you said, blinking for a few minutes as you processed what coryo had said. “sorry, no i didn’t.”

coryo frowned, looking at you with concern. “what’s on your mind?”

your cheeks were red and you shook your head. “n-nothing,” you murmured shyly.

coryo quirked an eyebrow. “well clearly it’s something if you’re spacing out on me, princess.” that was another thing. he’s been calling you pet names frequently. you actually love it a lot. you won’t admit that though.

biting your lip, you didn’t know how you should respond. “i-well i was looking at your face,” you started.

“yes i could tell that much.” coryo replied.

“your lips just look so soft and plush,” you murmured, looking down at your lap in embarrassment. “i- i don’t wanna say.”

coryo tilted his head, grabbing one of your hands. god you’re so cute. he wanted to just take you again but he didn’t want to push you. “it’s just me, my dear, you can tell me anything.” coryo’s voice was so soft and comforting as he gently massaged your knuckles.

you pouted, unsure of how to bring this up. you felt dirty wanting to have his mouth on your cunt. isn’t it like not sanitary? you sighed, knowing your best friend had a point. “i was thinking about your lips…on me,” you whispered.

“like kissing you?” coryo asked, leaning in slightly.

you shook your head. you didn’t want to have to say it out loud but you knew you had to. “on-on my,” you cringed as you tried to say it, resorting to just pointing at your pelvis.

coryo’s eyes widened as he realized what you meant. instinctively, he licked his lips. oh my god you wanted him to eat you out. he was immediately hard. god you were just so adorable and innocent. he wanted you to be his completely. he wanted nothing more than to taste your pussy, to feel your juices on his face. “you want me to eat you out?” he asked carefully.

you bit your lip, nodding your head shyly. “if that’s what it’s called,” you whispered.

fuck he could cum in his pants by your words. “all you have to do is ask, princess,” coryo’s voice was thick as he spoke, already moving to kneel in front of you.

you whimpered at the sight of coryo kneeling in front of you. your feet were on the floor while you sat at the edge of your bed. “coryo, c-can you-“ you stuttered, very nervous and embarrassed. he reached a hand to caress your thigh. you cleared your throat, taking a deep breath. “can you eat me out?” you finally said.

coryo smiled. “of course i can, princess. good job on asking.” he complimented, kissing the skin of your thigh. you were wearing a dress. coryo hiked your dress up, revealing your pink lace panties. he glanced up at you. “did you wear these for me?” he asked.

you bit your lip, nodding your head.

coryo was definitely going to cum in his pants today and he’s not even mad about it. oh my god. coriolanus grabbed the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down for you and putting them into his pocket. he needs something for his thoughts later, right? coryo began to kiss up your leg, warming you up to him. and as he reached your thighs, he spread them carefully. you took a deep breath, looking at coriolanus. “gonna take such good care of you, okay?” he said, looking up at you with those soft baby blue eyes.

you nodded your head.

coriolanus looked at your glistening pussy, unable to help himself when he just dives in, licking your cunt. you let out a yelp that turned into a moan, your back falling onto the bed as you spread your legs more for coriolanus. coryo didn’t apologize. he couldn’t feel bad for not taking it slowly.

your cunt was delicious.

coriolanus lapped his tongue over your clit, sucking on it. you whined in pleasure, a hand gripping the sheets while the other gripped coryo’s locks, causing him to moan at the sensation. “oh my god!” you moaned.

coryo smirked against your cunt, taking in the beautiful sounds of your voice. your cunt was absolutely delightful and coryo was determined to make you cum at least two times on his tongue. he continued his assault on your clit, licking, sucking, nipping at the nub. and soon, you were clenching your thighs around his head, quivering as your orgasm hit you quickly.

but he didn’t stop.

even when you started whining from the overstimulation, saying “too much, too much,” coryo continued, moving his tongue to your hole. and while you may be saying it’s too much, you definitely pushed his face closer to your pussy, making coryo moan. his nose rubbed on your clit as he ate you out sloppily and messily. it was much different than the composed coryo he usually was.

but when coryo ate cunt, he ATE CUNT.

coryo couldn’t help himself when he began to rut his cock against the mattress, desperate for release as he ate you out. and when you’re cumming on his tongue again, he’s cumming too, inside of his pants.

and when he’s done, he’s looking up at you so prettily. your best friend looked much different like this. his face was glistening with your juices, his baby blues were glazed over, and his lips were plump and swollen. his hair was an absolute mess from your hand. oh my god, he was just so hot.

and let’s just say, he made you cum at least two more times that day.

[seancekitsch]

ok im resending cause i either forgot to send or tumblr ate it! so i know versions of this concept have been done before im eternally weak for jealous/possessive/dom adrian chase fics.

i wanted to request something where adrian and the reader are bffs they're very touchy feely and flirty but it never goes anywhere. reader gets frustrated waiting for adrian to make a move and sets out to make him jealous...it works a little too well, he snaps, smut ensues.

hehehe sorry this is late my entire house and life fell apart but here it is!!!

This doesn’t really feel the way you thought it would. It was a bad idea really. You know Adrian better than this and you’re fucking stupid for thinking this would work. 

Adrian Chase, your best friend of the past five years, the man you share a bed with more often than not because you get sleepy after long hours hanging out, your partner on any missions, your defacto person to make up ridiculous and convoluted bits with on your very limited down time. 

But the flirting banter and the touching have gotten more intense, and you find yourself almost miserable when he gets up in the morning and leaves your little cuddle pile of blankets and limbs. Every time you think he’s going to make a move, to do something, he just… doesn’t. 

Now that you think of it, you could have made a move at any time. You could have been the one to pull him in for a kiss at any time between your constant bantering and snuggling on his couch. You absolutely did not need to be trying to make him jealous right now and having the worst conversation of your life.

Adrian’s eyes are set with pure anger at the back of the head of the guy youre talking to right now, and you keep trying to avoid looking at him. This guy… Angelo? Papa John? Something Italian, you think, is a bro in all senses of the word. He offered to buy you a drink and brought you a vodka cran, something you never drink but if it means you can talk to him without gagging in disgust, so be it.  He’s talking about his old frat days and you’re nodding and giving your best “wow, that’s crazy!” where it feels appropriate. But now he’s trying to put his arm around you and lazily waving at the bartender to get you another drink. 

“She doesn’t need another drink,” A voice cuts in, this one somehow both a needed comfort and a spike of unease. 

“And you are?” The guy asks, and it gives you the distraction you need to sneak out from under his arm. 

“That’s my girlfriend, actually. Yeah, I know I look like a late bloomer but some chicks actually go for that,” Adrian retorts, looking proud of himself as he definitely flexes his muscles. You don’t even have time to think about the fact that Adrian upgraded you to girlfriend because the guy’s voice cuts through your train of thought.

“You with him?” he asks you, pointing at Adrian in disbelief before turning to him, “Well she let me buy her two drinks and get cozy, so maybe next time keep your bitch on a tighter leash.”

Oh fuck no. 

Adrian looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. Anger isn’t really an emotion he holds, and if he does it’s very brief. You’ve seen him kill a room full of people while smiling before. 

“I hope you didnt actually say that, bro,” Adrians voice drips with venom, “because that was really sexist of you. And while thats not against the law, it’s fucking gross and you don’t talk to her especially like that.”

And with that, Adrian doesn’t wait for his response, he just shoves him against the bar and stalks off. Adrian is certain to get your group banned from the bar sooner rather than later, but at least he didn't hit him. You don’t spare a glance at the guy to chase after your friend. 

“Adrian!” you shout, trying to catch up to him as he marches into the parking lot. He doesn't slow his pace for you.  

“Adrian, slow the fuck down,” you pant, jogging the rest of the way to where he’s fumbling with his keys at the door of the Vigilante-Mobile. 

His jaw is still clenched when he turns around, the anger still rippling under the muscles of his handsome face, distorting and changing him. 

“Why? So I can keep watching you let men that don’t respect you and smell like salami touch you? Then what? By the end of the night you’re going to go home with them and I don’t get a sleepover buddy and you’re going to fuck them and smell like salami too.” he’s ranting, and there’s hurt laced into his voice there. You ignore the slight offense you feel at him thinking you’d let that guy fuck you. 

“No,” you scoff, “I was going to thank you. You know, for standing up for me.”

“Oh,” he seems genuinely surprised by that, “You’re welcome.”

His face doesn’t soften though, your goofy friend doesn’t ease up. 

Fuck, this is weird. 

“Do you wanna… go back inside?” you offer, and your voice does nothing to hide how unsure you are. 

“You can,” he answers, finally finding the right key on his keyring. 

“Adrian, cmon, I’m sure we aren’t—“ kicked out. Kicked about is what you were about today. 

“If you’re just going to let someone else put their arm around you or buy you drinks then I want to go home and watch Kill Bill,” Adrian is serious. Fuck.

And what feels like a missing puzzle piece falls into place. 

“Adrian… are you jealous?”

“What?” his voice jumps half an octave, and you’ve got him. 

“No.”

“Seemed like it.”

“No!” he gets a bit more indignant. It’s cute.

“So if I went back in there…” you trail off, finding it hard to hide your smile as you continue to poke the bear.

“Do whatever you want!” 

He yanks the drivers side door open and you realize just how much you fucked this up. 

“Oh shit Adrian wait don’t leave!”

He stops mid sit, freezing in a goofy squat. 

“I was trying to make you jealous,” you admit. 

“Well that’s stupid, you can’t make me jealous.”

Fuck it, you have to explain it. You were hoping he’d just get so mad he’d bend you over the hood of the Sebring, but now you have to explain your sexually frustrated thought process. 

“Shit, well. I thought if I made you jealous you would…” you shrug, and he stands back up, “I don’t know, make a move or something?” 

You have literally never wanted to curl up and die more than you do in this moment. 

“I thought you were the smart one out of the two of us,” Adrian says, crossing the distance between the two of you. 

You furrow your brows at him, worried that if you speak you might end up saying something even worse… or crying. 

“If you wanted me to kiss you or something you should have just asked! You know I don’t understand social cues.”

Okay, he’s right. Thats on you. 

You nod, and Adrian reaches out to grab your arm. 

“So, I guess this is me asking,” you weak confirm, focusing your eyes on the glare from the streetlight on Adrian’s glasses. 

“Thank god,” Adrian breathes a sigh of relief, “It was so hard to hide all those boners!”

An unintended bark of laughter leaves your lips, all of your anxiety and nerves immediately melting away as he pulls you in for a kiss, not giving a shit that you’re laughing against his lips. He kisses you hungrily, sloppy and wild and his hands are all over you. You’re on autopilot with your hands finding their way to the back of his neck, balling your fists in the material of his sweater. His hands reach lower, and you break the kiss with a gasp when he squeezes your ass hard. 

“Let’s go,” you pant, and he nods, only letting go of you to slap your ass while you practically run to the passenger side of the car.

You don’t even remember the drive from the bar to his house. No, you only remember his hand firm at the top of your thigh, his middle finger dipping between your thighs every so often to tease you. He has you whining and hot all over by the time he’s parked at his apartment complex and leading you up the stairs. 

He moves the same way he does through a mission, his front door slamming against his entryway table and shaking it, practically knocking over the key bowl. 

“Get on the bed,” he commands, not at all hiding his desperation as he kicks off his sneakers, “get on the fucking bed.”

You waste no time yourself throwing your jacket and purse and shoes into a corner and then throwing yourself onto the bed face first. 

By the time you’re rolled over onto your back Adrian stands in the doorway, flicking the lights on. 

“Ready?” he asks, and you nod. Immediately, he climbs himself onto the bed on top of you, pressing his hips into yours.

“Been ready,” you confirm, and he pulls at his sweater, shrugging it down his shoulders as he captures your lips in a kiss again. This kiss is no less desperate than the first, as if Adrian is trying to consume everything that is you. 

He wrestles with your clothes, gripping and pulling until youre bare beneath him, your bare legs parted around his jean clad thighs.

“Thought you could make me jealous,” he laughs, his glasses sliding low on his nose as he smirks. 

“I’m sorry,” you whine, his hands leaving trails of fire in their wake down your ribcage. He gropes at your chest, tracing every swell and expanse. 

“Are you?” he asks, and you nod profusely. His hands dip further down, tickling at your navel before teasing at your core.

“Are you?” He repeats. 

“Yes,” you gasp, his hand dipping down further and just barely touching where you want him.

“Making me jealous isn’t very nice, is it, baby?” he asks, and there’s something predatory in his eyes. You fucking love it. 

“No,” you answer him as he ducks his head down and starts pressing sloppy kisses into the underside of your jaw and the pulse point of your neck. Fuck, you feel white-hot on fire, everything too much and not enough. 

“You gonna be a good girl for me now?” he asks, his breath hot against your neck. You can only nod. 

“Better be,” he demands, his hands leaving where they tease you to unbuckle his belt and push his pants and boxers down in a fluid motion. You curl into yourself a little to look at him, not at all feeling ashamed at wanting to catch a glimpse of Adrian’s dick. 

"M' Gonna be so good for you," you sigh, desperate as he presses his now bare thighs back against yours, his rock hard length brushing against you.

"Shut up," he grunts, and then back tracks, "Not in a sexist way, but god I can't concentrate when you sound so hot."

You listen, and obey, nodding again before kissing his neck now, smooth from a fresh shave and reveling in the happy hum from his lips when your lips and tongue get to work.

“That was so mean,” he gasps, struggling to talk as you give him the same treatment he gave you, “Earlier tonight. Didn’t have to flirt with a ninja turtle. I woulda kissed you so many times if I knew you wanted me to.” 

You moan against his skin at his words, and let his hands drift low again. Your hands graze against his nipples, his abs, his hips. 

“Fuck me,” you whisper, daring your fingers to go lower, but wanting him to go lower first. 

“You want me? Not him?” 

You nod. 

“Gonna make you forget his name.”

You don’t bother telling him you don’t remember the guys name anyway, not when he pushes in ever so slowly and letting you feel every centimeter of him a he sinks himself into you. You sigh in delight, a dazed smile overtaking your lips as he bottoms out. 

“That’s a good girl,” he breathes, not at all hiding how you’re effecting him either, “So right for me.”

And he's right, you're so right for him, he's so right for you. Everything about this feels so correct and perfect.

“Move, please move, please,” you beg, breathless and almost delirious in pleasure. You’ve never felt so full in such a lovely way, in a way that fits you and feels so good that you could scream from this alone. 

He obeys, finally pushing his glasses up as he can focus in on your face and watch what he does to you.  Adrian leans up, opting to grab your hips as he gets on his knees to tilt your hips and snap into you. He holds you in place, his thumbs digging into your hips in a way that’s sure to bruise but you’ll wear those bruises with pride, happy to carry him with you even after this. 

“Adrian!” you shout, your breath trapping in your throat. 

“That’s right, this is for me,” He grits his teeth as he answers you, forcing all of his strength into the snapping of his hips, the force of him fucking you. 

“All—All for… you,” you struggle to get out, the angle leaving you short for breath but god, you could never imagine your first time fucking Adrian better than this. 

“Fuckin right you are,” his lips curl up into an almost sneer, but his eyes are full of love. It’s so hard for him to hide himself from you, even if he says he doesn’t understand emotions, he shows them. 

You pull him down to kiss him, even if this puts him at an awkward angle, he kisses you happily; like a man drinking from a fountain after walking through a desert. He kisses full of love and passion and his hips never slow their pace, always hitting the spot that makes you gasp, always pushing you closer to the edge. 

“I—,” your breath hitches, and with a particular harsh thrust from Adrian you can finish the thought.

“I love—,” he starts to respond, and then stops everything. His speaking, his thrusting, everything. 

“Shit, sorry, forget I said that!” he urges.

But you’re stuck, frozen. You heard the end of that sentence even if he didn’t want you to. 

“I’m sorry; fuck. Sorry.” He moves, as if he’s going to pull out, and then you snap into action.

“No!” you shout, startling yourself and him. You anchor your ankles around his back and hold him in place. 

“I love you!” you blurt out. Adrian relaxes, only slightly. 

“Adrian I love you so much I tried to make you jealous to get you to kiss me please please don’t leave,” you beg, ready to do anything in your power to keep him where he is. 

“You… do?” he asks, and again tonight, you nod profusely. 

“Fuck yeah,” he whispers, and resumes his position. 

You think you hear him say “I knew it” but you can’t be sure over the rush of blood you hear in your ears as he resumes his pace and sets every nerve in your body on fire. If you were ready to come before, you’re on overdrive now. Adrian spares no inch between your bodies and kisses everything he can reach, ever practically folding you in half to do so. 

“Fuck I’m—“ 

“Do it,” he answers, giving you permission for everything to want. It only takes a few more thrusts, the drag of his hips against you, the friction between you, to drive you to oblivion. You come in staccato, your body seizing and shaking quickly in succession, your breath and moans stifled and punctuated as if by impossible beats; Adrian guides you through all of it. For a supposed late bloomer, he knows what he’s doing to take care of someone. 

He slows, but never stops his pace, until you come back to him. Adrian kisses your face all over, holding you tight to bring you back to your senses. 

It’s not until you start kissing back that he starts up his pace again. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna… soon,” he works out between thrusts, hoping for your guidance. 

“Do it, do it please,” you beg, wanting everything he can give you. “Where should I…?”

“In… Fuck, inside if you want.”

“What do you want?” he asks, so gentlemanly it makes you want to punch him. 

“Inside!” you almost shout, the word comes pushed out through a moan because he hits that spot inside again that drives you wild. 

“Fuck…” he stalls, and then his hips stutter, and it’s hot. He releases full into you, all over warm like the first sip of soup. You feel safe as he stills again and the lowers himself on top of you, kissing your jaw and neck. 

“Adrian, fuck, Ade,” You whisper, not sure what you’re asking. 

He picks his head up immediately.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“This won’t change sleepover night, right?” you ask, in the lamest way possible.

“Is this sarcasm I should pick up on?” 

You only hug him closer as you laugh.

[weirdmageddon]

Cumpleaños chica, no hay que preocuparse

AO3 MIRROR

Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Rating: T

Relationships: Link/Zelda, Link & Zelda

Summary: Now seventeen years old, Zelda is finally able to step foot on Mount Lanayru. Link keeps a close eye on her at the Spring of Wisdom, the final spring she has yet to visit to hope at awakening her sealing power. Once again, she is unsuccessful. Canon compliant imagining of events earlier in the day before Calamity Ganon awakens as seen in Memory 15. One-shot.

Tags: Canon Compliant,  Pre-Calamity,  Selectively Mute Link,  he talks a little bit but he’s mostly quiet and terse when he does,  Developing Relationship,  Hurt/Comfort,  Zelda Needs A Hug,  Non-Explicit Intimacy,  Cold Weather,  Huddling for Warmth,  Character Study,  POV Multiple

Author’s notes: Inspired by a conversation I had with a friend. It tickled my brain that Zelda wore her bare-skin ceremonial robes on a freezing mountain, not to mention in the freezing water. The expression and movement Link makes towards Zelda when the Calamity awakens in the memory gave me the impression that he was worried about her state earlier in the day as well. This fic arose tying the threads of what scenario was most likely to have reasonably happened earlier that day, as well as whatever caused them to be suddenly comfortable being so touchy-feely with each other that entire day as seen in the memories.

Beta read by another friend. I hope you enjoy. I don’t write a lot, but I like to think that I have a talent for grasping the “voice” of characters.

Title is most people’s interpretation of a nonsense lyric from Tears for Fears - Listen. Give it a listen if you haven’t. Give it a listen even if you already have.

Today is her birthday.

However, instead of celebrating her seventeenth over fruitcake with friends and family, she’s standing with her skin nearly bare in frigid waters. Her white robes blend in with the snowy landscape of Mount Lanayru. She has goosebumps all down her arms, partly from the below freezing temperatures, and partly from the premonition she feels in her bones.

Her silent but loyal guard stands at the entrance of the spring, his back turned away from her to give her privacy. She still doesn’t feel that she has much anyway, for she knows he’s listening to her. He always has, but doesn’t make it known.

Zelda stands small in front of the stone statue of Hylia, smiling down upon her in a way she feels is patronizing at this point.

“Hear me now,” Zelda articulates with a tone of resignation, “Goddess of Wisdom, Nayru. I come seeking your strength. The spirit of your sisters have not answered my plea. I fear that you may be my last chance... and I hope that it won’t be too late.”

As Link looks back down the mountain, his mind isn’t empty. It’s filled with thought he tries to push out to numb himself, but today he’s stirring on a few things.

Before their ascent to the Spring of Wisdom, Link offered Zelda her winter coat, but she refused. She said that she needed to fortify her spirit by braving the cold as a display of her devotion. He remembered what Zelda had said to him the day before:

“Lanayru’s decree is very specific. It says, ‘No one is allowed, under the age of seventeen, for only the wise are permitted a place upon the mountain.’”

Her decision to forego her coat did not seem very wise, but he knew better than to argue with her. He packed it with him just in case. He does not enjoy seeing Zelda push herself like this to what seems like self-enforced punishment. Her actions appear to be out of desperation at this point.

Link’s nose is running and he wipes it on his sleeve. His ears are warm and snugly tucked into his hood. He briefly glances over at Zelda’s ears and observes that they are pink and raw.

“Today is my seventeenth birthday. Father made me begin my training ten years ago to this day. And today is the first time I pray to you.“

She gives a gentle chuckle, but it’s not one that makes Link feel warm inside.

“Ten years...” she says. “Ten years of my childhood wasted to being ordered to do something as fruitless as this. The Calamity draws ever nearer. It could awaken at any moment, and yet...”

Zelda looks down at her hands and examines their lack. Her fingertips are pink and raw.

“Nothing...”

She’s silent for a moment. The wind blows steadily and the water laps as she puts her hands back down.

“I have great knowledge of the ancient Sheikah relics that legends say brought Calamity Ganon to its downfall ten thousand years ago. If only Father would let me learn more about them I could help... since I can’t seem to do anything else of any good. Surely it’s better than naught?

“If so,” Zelda fumes indignantly, “wouldn’t this be a wise thing of me to do, then?!”

Zelda’s frustration is understandable and justified. Link has seen it evolve every time she visits the springs to pray. He assumes that they could have started as prayers, but since the time he’s been tasked with accompanying her, she seems to end up talking her personal thoughts aloud and venting.

“At this point, I honestly don’t even know if you’re real or not, but please. Give me a sign... a hint. Illuminate my path.”

It’s year ten and Zelda is met by silence yet again.

She balls her fists and curses under her breath. Even with a new spring, she didn’t have her hopes up. Her color looks paler against the periphery of her skin being tinged red from broken capillaries. Zelda begins to sigh, but stops when the frigid air burns her airway.

“This was my last chance...” Her somber tone hangs heavy in the air.

“So, I failed then.”

The silence upon the mountain is broken when a powerful, freezing gale of wind from the north blows Link’s hood in front of his face and causes Zelda to halt in place, grabbing her own arms with her hands for warmth. Link whips his head around, the wind chill making him finally decide to make a break for it. He wades into the freezing water and grabs Zelda’s hand.

“Link,” she snivels, either from the cold or her misery, he wasn’t sure.

Link responds with a soft affirmative grunt and pulls her towards the stone landing, indicating that she get out of the water.

Zelda doesn’t even bother trying to fight against his urges to get her out of the cold water. She knew this effort was futile. She hates herself for being so useless to everyone. For, in all her wisdom, not figuring out a way to her power by now, ten years later. The heir to a throne of nothing.

The water insulated her legs from the air, but now that they are exposed, her legs are frozen in place. They’re mottled from poor circulation.

Zelda chatters, “I... I can’t move them.”

Link’s eyes widen and he lets go of her hand, and instead kneels down, reaching his arms behind her back and knees, and slowly lifts her with a grunt. Carrying Zelda, Link walks her down the steps of the landing and places her on the flat frozen grass. He takes his hood off and gives it to her.

Link then grips the hilt of his Master Sword and lifts it out of the sheath. He runs to the nearest tree and plows his sword into it as hard as he can, gathering wood bundles and bringing them back to Zelda.

The bag that he packed for the trek sits on the ground next to Zelda. He pulls out one of the towels that’s been kept warm by red chuchu jelly. The towel is white and the royal crest is embroidered in the corner with golden thread. He quickly takes it out and wraps it around her. He takes the other warm towel that was packed and places it on the ground for her to sit on, which she does.

Link takes the red chuchu jelly that was warming the towels and places it on top of the bundle of wood he set on the ground. He removes the bow from his back, takes an arrow from his quiver, and shoots at the substance. The arrow piercing the jelly creates a small explosion of heat that sets the wood alight. He looks back at Zelda expectantly, and the two move closer to the fire, sitting beside each other. He holds her hand. Her hand is so cold.

A rare occasion, Link gently voices his thoughts. “It’s dangerous to stay in your wet clothes in this weather.”

In any other situation, he would be bashful about insinuating she undress with him nearby, but he’s dead serious on making sure she doesn’t get hypothermia, if she hasn’t already. He glances at her with a pleading expression.

Zelda understands. “Please don’t look.”

Link’s expression shows exasperation, as if he wouldn’t even think of it. He turns and covers his eyes.

Out of his sight and by the warmth of the fire, Zelda undresses out of her wet gown. She quickly wraps herself back up in the warm white towel.

“Okay.” She sits next to him again, her arms and legs shaking.

“...So that’s it,” she laments with a pause. “After all this time... it was a failure. I’m destined for nothing.”

Her thoughts guide her away from the present, remembering how cold she used to be towards Link because he executed his skills seemingly without flaw or issue. He was naturally talented at harnessing what he needed for his destiny from a young age. Even now knowing Link’s hidden struggles he confided in her, and knowing that he doesn’t despise her for her inability to harness the sealing powers of the Goddess, it doesn’t change the fact that she remains unskilled and aimless at unlocking them at seventeen. She thinks on how if this had happened back then, she would have rather frozen to death in her pretty white robes. Link is so warm, however. He always was, in hindsight. She was just plagued by her own shortcomings. Even if his expressions were cold, his heart was always warm.

Link brings her train of thought to a halt as if on cue, pulling her back to the present when he wraps his arms around her body and holds her close in the warmed towel. He doesn’t say a word, because he doesn’t feel the need to, but he also just doesn’t know what to say. He presses her icy arms close to him. His body is so warm.

Zelda breathes out, with a cloud of steam, “Link... I...”

Making a quiet questioning noise, Link pulls back slightly to meet her eyes.

“...Thank you. I’m sorry for my reckless behavior. I don’t want to be a burden on you.”

Link doesn’t respond in words, but he blinks; his eyebrows lower, and he has a pensive look in his eyes. He then rests his chin over her shoulder as he holds her. Clearly, whatever apology she’s given, Link has already forgiven before she even stated it.

Link quickly grew to care about Zelda beyond the scope of his bare minimum duty to protect her as ordered by the king. Despite being fearless and formidable in the face of physical threats, Link was afraid of one thing: getting pulled into any drama or causing anything that could foster gossip of his relationship with the princess. A random swordsman born to a line of soldiers from Hateno entrusted with being not only the captain of a royal’s personal guard, but being the exclusive one chosen to accompany her on her escapades was enough to get him looks, so he kept his mouth shut and kept a few steps behind her. It pains him that he can’t show her the affection he feels towards her due to the hundreds of eyes boring into him every day. He’s never been close like this to her before.

But right now, the moment is only between him, her, and the Goddess.

Link still feels her muscles are stiff and quivering. The towel may not be enough. He pulls out of the embrace and puts his palm out to signal her to wait a moment. He stands up and starts performing bodyweight squat-jacks.

Zelda stares at him in disbelief.

“What... are you doing?”

Link is silent and focused on moving, engaging his entire body. He continues the squat-jacks until he feels himself begin to break a sweat, grunting during the last one, at which point he stops.

“Generating body heat,” he huffs.

He stumbles, taking a seat beside Zelda again and removes his coat, panting out puffs of steam. He takes off his belts and blue tunic, now only in his off-white long-sleeved undershirt. This should transfer heat better, he thinks. Over his undershirt, Link puts the coat back on and wraps the sides of it around both him and Zelda to form a seal with it so that the air is contained. Link again closes the distance with a gentle but firm embrace. She can feel his heart thumping in his chest from the exertion against her arms which makes her a tad lightheaded and giddy, but his idea is working. The sum of the fire, the insulation from the warm towels, the heat radiating off his body as well as his breath confined by the coat, is warming her.

“Oh. Of course...” Zelda responds sheepishly to the situation, internally justifying his actions with reason. “Yes, that makes sense.”

He tucks his face into the towel over her collarbone and exhales heavily.

Even with his back turned when she prayed, Link always kept an ear open to what Zelda would say. He had escorted her to the Spring of Courage just a few days prior; he vividly remembers hearing how her voice broke as she asked the Goddess what was wrong with her, and it made him deeply uncomfortable to hear her so miserable. He had turned to face her and gently counseled her to wrap it up for today, with his superficial reasoning being that it was getting late, but the deeper reason being that he didn’t want to listen to her hurting. He wanted to hold her tight at that moment but was still worried about professionalism and politeness. There wasn’t much he could do. But currently, Link is feeling catharsis for that missed opportunity.

The two stay like this for a half a minute before Zelda breaks their silence.

“Link. I need to tell you something,” she says gravely.

Link’s ears perk at her tone. He nods, softly grunting in acknowledgment. His breathing is still short.

“Two nights ago, the night after we returned from the Spring of Courage, I had an unsettling dream.” Zelda’s eyes become distant, moving up and to the left, as though she were recalling the scene. “In pitch darkness, there was a lone woman haloed by a blinding light. She was beautiful. I could sense she wasn’t of our world. Her lips spoke urgently, but I couldn’t hear what she said. Her words failed to reach me.”

She looks back down to the top of Link’s messy head and frowns.

“I woke up from it filled with a feeling of dread... dread like I hadn’t known before. Since that dream, I haven’t been able to shake this sense that something terrible is about to happen. And whatever it is, I’m not prepared.”

A lump forms in Zelda’s throat. “And I’m not sure why anyone would believe this sense of urgency coming to me. After all, what have I to prove successful communication with the Goddess? Nothing. And yet...”

“I believe you,” Link replies.

He is actually biting his nails internally, but he tries to numb himself to it and it doesn’t show. After accompanying her countless times, he knows how observational Zelda is and can’t help but trust her intuition.

“Are you afraid?” she asks waveringly.

Link bites his tongue, unsure what Zelda wants to hear. If he says he’s not afraid, will she feel like she’s being undermined and overreacting to a major threat? If he says he is afraid, will she lose confidence in his ability to protect the kingdom? The pressure is also on him to perform, just as it is for her. Hesitantly, Link confesses to his stress with a whispered humph. His arms are still wrapped firmly around Zelda’s body, and he rubs her back comfortingly, feeling the beads of the towel’s fabric under his hands. The sensation of his chest rising and falling makes her feel safer.

Zelda instead seems relieved at his response. That he knows how she feels.

“I just feel that—it feels that at any moment something awful could happen.”

Link pulls back to look her in the eyes, hands on her shoulders for coat insulation. He wants to tell her they’ll get through this together but he is unable to speak, or even know if what he’d say would be the truth. Zelda’s too penetratingly critical to believe it, and he’s not sure he truly believes a pointless platitude either, to be honest.

Zelda also looks into his eyes. After being accompanied by him countless times, she has learned to read her taciturn escort’s subtle expressions. His tight-lipped face communicates worry and pensiveness, which paradoxically feels reassuring to her. Her face heats up when she begins to feel her eyes involuntarily water. She’s always been a strong girl. She held herself with dignity when her mother died eleven years ago. She can’t remember the last time she felt hot tears stinging her eyes, at least not in front of anyone else.

At least the fluids in her body were warm again, she tells herself.

Link notices. He wipes her eyes with the towel. She takes the towel in her own hands and lowers her chin, hiding her face. He pats her back gently as she gives a hefty sniff from her runny nose.

“Let’s head back,” Link says softly. She nods, face red from both embarrassment and the cold.

Beckoning Zelda to her feet, he hands Zelda back her dress. Unfortunately, she has no dry change of clothes besides the coat by itself, and neither of them want her to present herself naked in a towel in front of the rest of the Champions.

“Put it back on,” Link gestures to her ceremonial gown. “I’ll keep you warm on the way.”

With Link’s back turned and eyes closed, Zelda dresses back into her white gown. It’s still damp, but it is not dripping wet. A good portion of the water has evaporated next to the heat of the fire and in part due to the type of fabric it is woven from. The smoky scent of embers still lingers in the cloth.

At the same time, Link puts his own clothes back on; he dresses back into his blue tunic and fastens the belt around his waist and chest. Once Zelda gives him the okay, he turns around, takes her dry winter coat out and slips it on over her gown. He takes his hood back, packs away the towels into their bag, and stamps out the fire.

He glances down at Zelda’s open-toed sandals, her poor toes red. “Can you walk back in those?” he asks. Even down the slope of the mountain, the Naydra Snowfield poses as an obstacle before the clearing to Lanayru’s East Gate where the Champions await their return.

“No,” Zelda simply states, shaking her head. She knows she won’t be able to. She was able to power through open-toed footwear in the snow earlier out of a sense of expectation that her devotion would be heard. But that thread of hope has gone nowhere, and she has since emerged from the Spring of Wisdom with a slightly more impoverished state of mind from their initial trek up the mountain. Her feet are also icicles.

Guilt hangs heavy in her chest for telling him that she isn’t able to walk in her sandals through the snow now, though she could earlier. Even when she had just told him she doesn’t want to trouble him, and even when he addressed her worry in his typical silent way. When will she just accept the seemingly endless lengths he’d go for her? It’s literally his job, she reasons to herself. Get a grip.

Link doesn’t seem to give away what he feels about a situation. Directly knowing how people feel about states of affairs is how Zelda naturally feels at ease with others. Even now she still sometimes finds her imagination running wild at what his attitude is for any course of action or situation, wanting to make sure she doesn’t accidentally step on his toes if he truly dissents but never voices it. Since meeting Link, she’s had to learn to understand that he is actually a very simple person, much simpler than she had initially believed. He holds no strong opinions either way and seems fine, even functioning at his best, when sailing wherever the wind may take him. She’s amazed and even a little envious at how ‘okay’ he seems with things all the time, but her slight envy backpedals as she wonders if an existence like that ever feels aimless and numb.

Numb like her toes right now.

Shouldering the bag, Link kneels down next to her and slowly hoists Zelda up in his arms with a guttural grunt, holding her in the same bridal carry as before: his left arm supporting her back and his right arm behind her knees. When lifting her, he adroitly puts a slight twist on the fabric of the dress around the contour of her legs so that the cold air doesn’t have many opportunities to blow in from under.

Link’s stature is slightly shorter than Zelda’s by about ten centimeters, but he is still strong enough to carry her. She is repeatedly impressed by his physical strength for such a small, lean little Hylian.

“I hope I’m not too heavy,” Zelda coos, “I’m so sorry to make you do this, Link.” The guilt of burdening him with more labor just won’t quit no matter how much she knows he probably doesn’t care.

Link gives her a look, a mild but confident one accompanied by an almost imperceptible grin. More readily does Zelda identify his smiles from his eyes than his mouth—the way his bottom eyelid just ever so slightly moves upward. Seeing his expression brings her a faint sense of relief, showing her that he has it under control and isn’t struggling, and also that she needn’t worry about apologizing.

He kind of likes doing it, anyway.

After taking one last glance at the Spring of Wisdom, Link turns his back to it and begins to move down the mountain with Zelda in his arms. Zelda doesn’t look back.

                                                      • • •

The two continue their journey through the snow in silence. They’ve descended down Mount Lanayru from the Spring of Courage now. The late afternoon sky reflects off the snow-capped mountain behind them and the snowfield before them with a gorgeous pale orange glow, accompanied by contrasting blue-tinted shadows.

Link glances at Zelda, and notices her eyes are closed. He thinks about how exhausted she must be, yet so determined to get the answers she needs. He knows she will continue to push herself, and he is determined to keep up with and protect her. Under it all, his heart breaks for Zelda. It’s not fair. Time after time, she dedicates herself fully. Just like him. She puts just as much effort into her training as he does, yet gets nothing out of it but reminders of her inadequacy. Link was naturally born with a gravitation towards swordsmanship. He enjoys the thrill, making sense of and creating his own techniques, and seeing how he has improved. In this way, he thinks Zelda is even stronger than he is for having to put up with training she loathes and sees no progress out of for ten years. If she were able to freely chase her intellectual pursuits instead of being required to play her role as princess for the kingdom, Link is certain she’d have as much skill in her own niche as he does in his own, and would actually be satisfied with her own accomplishments. And doing this on her birthday no less? He wants nothing more than to cook something delicious for her today in comfort and safety. She deserves it. She deserves it so much. She pours hours into dedicating herself to the benefit of everyone. And for that, he feels himself bonded to her, and especially after today, a deeper sense of devotion and protectiveness towards her than he has ever felt before.

Without much thought, he holds her closer as he carries her through the afternoon-lit snowfield, hands squeezing her back and legs which causes her eyes to flutter open. The air is gradually getting warmer and the snow is thinning under his boots. He’s starting to tire a bit, but continues forward.

With grass now under their feet, Link puts Zelda down. The air is warmer here and Zelda is noticing she’s getting sweaty with anticipation. She takes off her coat and hands it to Link who promptly bags it.

Approaching the east gate, her expression becomes more and more pensive at the prospect of informing the Champions of her failure again and squashing their hope. They’ve given her so much encouragement. It’s only fair that they get something in return for the time and hope they’ve invested into her endeavors. She feels herself to be a hope sink. Not to mention, what is she going to tell her father back at the castle...? From behind her, Link sees her head bow slightly.

“Zelda,” Link speaks with that gentle breathy tone of his that he rarely uses. He knows Zelda doesn’t care for him addressing her with formalities such as Princess.

She stops and turns her head to him, knowing that it’s important enough for him to speak about. His expression is neutral but there’s an inhibited fondness behind it. “Yes?”

Link saunters until he’s caught up with Zelda, stopping next to her. He reaches from below and holds her hand, lacing his fingers between hers.

“Happy birthday.”

[general--winter]

Could we please get general relationship headcanons for Ann from Persona 5?

author's note: Ann my beloved. My best friend in the whole wide world. I see a lot of myself in her actually, if I wasn't so reserved lol. I bestow upon you the headcanons. Please, enjoy and thank you for the request!

rating: general

fandom: persona 5

pairing: ann takamaki x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of objectification of women's bodies

word count: 671

summary: What would Ann be like in a relationship?

Oh gosh Ann, I love her with all my heart. There’s a reason her element alignment is Agi (fire), she’s a passionate and driven woman who will stop at nothing to see her way to her goals. So, I imagine that when her mind is set on pursuing someone romantically, she would be the one to pull out all of the stops, but only if she’s already comfortable around them. Perhaps as a friend or acquaintance she has a positive history with, that she can trust. I definitely don’t think she would want to be in a relationship before being friends with someone, just to make sure their vibes are proper.

Chocolate on Valentine’s Day? She’s suave as all hell about it. Flowers? Any time you meet up to hang out, she’ll sneak to the florist and get you a single rose (or whatever your favorite flower is when she figures it out). A nice night out? I’d imagine once her modeling career takes off, and why wouldn’t it, she would treat you to a delectable and fancy all-you-can-eat buffet and take you on a walk through Inokashira Park.

Her love language is acts of service and gift giving, these two especially going hand in hand. She loves to do things for people, to show them that she cares about them through what she does. That doesn’t mean that she doesn’t also appreciate a good gift though. Perhaps buy her that makeup collab set she’s been talking about all month? Or the new album from her favorite band that just came out? Just to show you listen to her and care about her interests as much as she cares about your own!

Despite her forward nature when pursuing a romantic interest, she’s pretty shy about physical contact. The first time you hug her, she’s stiff as a board and takes a minute to relax into it. You initiate your first kiss together, and it flusters her beyond all belief. This stems from her negative experience being objectified as a model, especially as a woman with traditionally Western features (naturally blonde hair and blue eyes) in Japan. She definitely has to be eased into it very gently, and reassured consistently along the way that you’re not there just for her physicality, but for her as a complete person. Either way, she’s not really touchy-feely, but if your love language is physical touch, I guarantee you that she will do her best to make sure you feel as loved as you make her feel.

I think the Phantom Thieves would all really enjoy your presence when you’re introduced to them (if you don’t already know them), except the way you make Morgana bicker way too much. If it is your first time meeting Ann’s friends, their opinion is incredibly valuable to her; she trusts their instincts as much as she does her own. It would be best to make a good impression! Especially with Shiho too, I imagine that she’s Ann’s personal shadow defender and will hurt you if you do anything to Ann. (Don’t let the kind and outgoing facade fool you after her recovery from depression, Shiho can and will throw hands for Ann for playing such a huge role in saving her life.)

Overall, day-to-day with her I imagine to be very exciting and fun. Ann is always down for an adventure to the beach or the amusement park to spice up the day, but she’s more than content staying bundled up inside or just hanging out at Leblanc all day with you. Her personality is unpredictable and she can have an incredibly short temper, but overall it's usually in jest. It’s easy to tell when Ann is being sarcastically pissed off for comedic effect or when she’s really angry by the tone of her voice. She’s incredibly impatient, and you catch yourself teasing her until she’s incredibly flustered and “enraged” about her overreaction to the crepe stand’s wait times. She secretly enjoys it, not that she’ll ever admit it.

[damniamgay]

so upon some analysis: (this is a long leatin post im ngl so apologies besties if you don’t wanna read a self indulgent rant) also season two spoilers cause obvs

fatin definitely speed ran the enemies to friends to lovers with leah.

like in my head she knew who leah was, and kinda what her deal was, especially with that field note about that silly little tampon joke leah made.

fatin just gives me the vibes that she wouldn’t obsess over it as much as leah did but she definitely thought about it more than once, and she knows her through that.

then at the start of the island when leah’s pretty much insane from the offset fatin is like bestie no.

i also think that the more she spent time with leah and the more she got to understand her it clicked to her that yeah, they could be friends. and fatin who very much doesn’t do feelings is like ‘we must be best buds’ (hence the, “I’m gonna try something” hug)

and then seeing how leah sought her out for comfort and was so different around her than the rest of the girls she was like oh fuck, and then season two and she’s just realising all these things about leah that she likes

(do I even have to mention how fatin is legit the definition of heart eyes around leah for all of season two)

whereas i think leah was definitely more of a slow burn (see analysis below)

she didn’t immediately hit it off with anyone on the island cause she had her suspicions pretty much straight away (no pun intended)

and she seems to find herself spending more and more time with fatin just because of that familiarity, I think leah found herself going insane so quickly is because she’s a creature of comfort and was immediately thrown out of everything she knew

she could give back as much as she could take and it almost earns her brownie points with fatin, and I think maybe leah’s never had a proper good friend before and so fatin slowly becoming more touchy feely and flirty with her she just assumes that’s what friends do, especially because fatin flirts with everyone (especially dot)

and she finds herself confiding more and more in her theories with fatin cause she seems like a safe space and she’s honest and trustworthy

and in season two leah finds herself coping a little bit more with ‘going dark’ because fatin just gets her and she’s able to be more herself (that whole scene with rachel and the rendition of home)

and then we get them acting more like real friends, and leah gets more bold (the water scene with fatin) and I think fatin doesn’t know how to deal with that either

then leah, ever the overthinker, starts questioning her and fatin’s relationship and all of a sudden…fuck, she likes her, like really likes her

(hence the “voices of people you love the most”)

and so leah’s doing everything she can to help fatin so they actually have this chance because at the beginning of it all fatin was the only one to listen to her and be completely honest with her and eventually believe and back her up

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Little Bones 6

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, anger, humiliation, control.

This is dark! (biker) Thor x chubby!reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: You’re a city girl stuck in a small town, but Birch isn’t as sleepy as it seems.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown and When the Weight Comes Down

Note: This is likely the second to last chapter in this series! I’m excited to have another Birch series finished in the near future! And then I can work on Loki’s installment because you all are so dang convincing.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

MASTERLIST

Chapter 6: I can cry, beg and whine

Thor was insatiable. That was the only word you could think to describe him but it didn’t feel strong enough. His hunger, his persistence, his complete control over you was indescribable. He held your apartment, your job, your very existence in his grip. 

You woke up to him beside you in your double bed, too small for both of you but it only gave him a reason to be on top of you. You went to work late more days than not that week. And even when you didn’t go home to find him on your couch, he wasn’t long behind. 

There was no hiding from him in Birch and there was no way out. It was a truth you denied for too long because you weren’t from there. But it wasn’t about the town, it wasn’t the town that trapped you. It was the people, it was the attitude. It was those bikers.

Friday came and he was there waiting but he wasn’t sprawled out on your sofa as usual. He wore his colours, ready to go somewhere. 

He combed his fingers through the tails of his blond hair as you unzipped your jacket and set your bag on the shoe rack. He checked himself in the mirror that hung along the entryway and planted his hand on the wall as he leaned over you.

“Put on something nice,” he purred as he grabbed your chin and tilted your face towards him, “if it wasn’t so cold, I’d say something slutty.”

You didn’t have a chance to grimace before he kissed you. You swallowed your revulsion and waited for him to let you go. As you knelt to remove your boots, he tickled along the back of your head.

“Mmm, I’m almost tempted to let you stay down there,” he taunted, “but we’re already late.”

“Late for what?” you stood and brushed past him. He followed closely and groped your ass. You were almost used to his incessant touching.

“I got business tonight,” he said.

“Your business,” you insisted as you entered the bedroom. You made no move to change and sat on the bed as you rubbed your eyes, “I have no interest in whatever it is you deal in and I’m dead tired.”

“I know I’ve been… hard on you,” he smirked as there was no true remorse in his tone, “but how am I supposed to help myself?”

You looked at him sharply and snarled. “I really don’t feel like going to the bar--”

“We’re not going down there,” he interrupted, “but the girls are expecting you.”

He went to the closest and slid open the door. You shook your head at the wall and didn’t move. You knew there was no arguing with him. It made your blood boil. You hated that feeling of helplessness. You hated his kind of men and how they used women like things, painting their desires as your own.

“This is nice,” he tossed a forgotten pair of leggings with leather strips along the side on the bed and a silver top with trumpet sleeves slit along the inside, “bet your ass looks wonderful in those.”

“Can’t I have one night--”

“It’s business. The women have their time and we have ours. Get up.” He said sternly, “though I don’t mind helping you into these.”

He lifted the leggings and stretched the high elastic waist and bit his lip. You stood and snatched them from him. He did not leave, didn’t even back away as you turned and dropped them back on the bed. You stripped off your wool pants and the striped blouse. 

You wiggled into the leggings, embarrassed at how your ass jiggled and he purred in response. The top was tight across your tits and pushed them up dangerously against the neckline. You never wore it because that very reason; too much attention where you didn’t need it.

“See,” he snapped his knuckles against your ass, “sexy as hell.”

“You gonna tell me where we’re going?” you asked as you crossed your arms.

“Just a little get together,” he framed your face with his large hands, “with your Birch boys.”

He said nothing else as he latched onto your arm and turned to drag you behind him. You barely lifted your feet in your reluctance but you sensed his impatience growing. You contented yourself that in the least he would be distracted by other people long enough to leave you alone for just a few minutes.

💀

The motorcycle ripped through the early evening air and you shivered against his back. The air was still bitter but the roads were cleared of snow enough to maneuver the steel beast. He drove out of town and along the country roads, those were more treacherous than the main row.

You pulled up to the farmhouse, the old lot recently renewed as the house shone from within. Thor slowed and killed the engine. He flipped out the kickstand and nudged you. You climbed off and he followed your lead. He shoved the keys in his pocket and unstrapped his helmet as he let out a ‘brrr’.

“Come on,” he nodded to the porch steps as you undid your own helmet. 

You walked up to the house and he knocked. He took your helmet from you as you waited for an answer. You heard voices and the approach of footsteps from the other side. The door opened and Steve’s girl smiled out at you and pushed open the screen door.

“Oh! You’re here!” She chimed, “I used your mother’s lemon meringue recipe. And oh,” she beamed at you, “we haven’t seen you lately.”

“Work,” you said, it wasn’t exactly a lie, “it’s nice to see you, too. I’m sorry I didn’t bring anything, I--”

“I have everything under control,” she clapped her hands, “we’re just trying to figure out the shaker. Come in.”

She backed up and Thor held the door as you passed through first. You took your boots off at the mat and she beckoned you further in. “Thor, the guys are just in the living room,” she pointed to her left, “we’re in the kitchen,” she motioned behind her, “working on dinner.”

“Mmm,” you grumbled and nodded. Before you could step forward, Thor caught you and drew you back to him. He kissed you and you bore it in simmering humiliation.

“Have fun,” he squeezed your ass and let you go as he turned to find the other men.

You huffed and turned your attention to Steve’s girl as she waited awkwardly. She rubbed her hands together as she walked with your down the hallway. “Steve’s like that, you know? Touchy feely. I get so… embarrassed…” her voice trailed off, “sorry, I shouldn’t--”

“I always wondered about you and him. You’re an odd pair,” you said.

“Well, it’s not anything I expected but, um… well, this is our house--” she gestured around her as she led you into the kitchen, “you know, he bought it for me.”

“Hey, don’t change the subject,” you said a bit too tersely, “you said Steve embarrasses you but you--”

“And Thor does it to you so… you know that’s how they are,” she squeaked.

“All of them,” Bucky’s girl said and you only noticed her as she shook the metal shaker, “it’s why we need alcohol.”

You exhaled and came up to the counter as Steve’s girl went to the stove and lifted the lid on the skillet to stir the contents, “please, don’t put a lot of gin in mine. I don’t do well with alcohol.”

You leaned on the marble as you watched the other woman pour the bright pink liquid into a finely shaped glass on a stem, “looks better than last time.” She turned and set it beside the stove for the hostess.

“So…” you frowned as you thought and she began to measure gin and all the other ingredients before her, “why are you with them--”

“Why are you with Thor?” she interrupted, “we saw how much you hate him at the bar. We felt the same but don’t act stupiid like you don’t know what’s going on. These men are given everything they want and when they aren’t they take it anyway.”

“He takes care of my ma, though--” Steve’s girl intoned.

“And that makes it all hunky dorey,” the other sneered, “she sucks at saying it out loud but she can’t stand Steve as much as we can’t stand the rest of them.”

The other woman was quiet as she replaced the lid and reached for the drink. She fidgeted and looked down at her frilly apron. She was dressed like some housewife out of the suburban fifities, although her dress was still uncomfortably short.

“What good does it do to say it?” she mumbled.

Bucky’s girl mixed another cocktail and poured it pristinely before she slid it over to you, “I’m getting the hang of this but I’m happy the men are sticking to beer. My arm’s getting tired.”

You took the glass and tasted the drink. You hummed as it surprised you. “Aren’t you a bartender?”

“Server. I open beers and believe it or not but they don’t serve margaritas down at The Asp.”

You shrugged and kept drinking as she made her own drink and turned to rest her elbow on the counter lazily.

“I should’ve warned you. Not that it would’ve helped but I could’ve,” she said.

“No, it doesn’t matter. It’s like you said. They take whatever they want. Nothing we can do, is there?”

You were silent as you all sipped. The gin warmed your chest and you let it sink into your veins. Your commiseration was grim but comforting. To think that you weren’t entirely alone was as heartening as it was saddening.

💀

The alcohol heightened your irritation as dinner ended. You were left to help clear the table in your matronly duties with the other women. You were insulted at the outdated binary of the arrangements and it felt less like a get together and more of a job.

The men, Steve, Bucky, Thor, and Loki returned to the living room and their voices threaded the air as the dishes clinked in your grasp. The blonde biker’s brother was unexpected but he seemed just unhappy to be there as you. There were a few minutes during the meal where you sympathised with him as he rolled his eyes and failed to hide any ounce of his spite for Thor.

When you finished up, Steve’s girl took several more beers to the men before she returned to grab her glass of water. You took the vodka cooler, your third drink of the night, and went along with them to the living room.

You hung back as Steve’s girl neared him and was drawn down beside him impatiently, his arm around her shoulders as he almost spilled her water. Bucky’s girl sat beside him and tolerated his arm around her waist though he was less clingy than his accomplice. Loki stood by the window and stared out into the dull snow as Thor perched in the cozy armchair.

You went to sit beside Steve’s girl but you were stopped by a tut. 

“I’ve got a seat for you, kitten,” Thor slurred. The beer was thick in his voice, as potent as the liquor in your stomach. You turned to him as he rubbed his thigh.

“I’m fine, here,” you insisted and his smile fell.

“You know I wasn’t asking, kitty,” he warned, “come on and be a good girl. We’re guests. Let’s not make a scene.”

You stood in front of the couch and glared at him. You sighed softly and pushed your shoulders back. You marched over to him and turned your bottle to splash it over his front. You acted surprised at your feigned clumsiness and took a step back.

“Oops,” you uttered coyly, “how careless--”

He was up on his feet in a moment as he slammed his own bottle down on the small table beside the chair. He knocked yours from your hand entirely and the air stilled with tension. His blue eyes flared as he grabbed your wrist.

“Better help me get cleaned up,” he growled and looked over your shoulder, “excuse us.”

You resisted him for a moment but he yanked and nearly took you off your feet. He spun and kept hold of you as he forced you after him and stormed from the room. You stumbled out into the hall behind him and he flung you ahead of him. 

He gripped the back of your neck and ripped open a door to his right. He shoved you inside and you hit the sink as the clasp clicked loudly. He crowded you in the half bath as you braced yourself against the porcelain, the scent of beer tingling in your nostrils. You stared at his dark shirt, stained with his drink.

“I thought I trained you better, kitten,” he snarled, “just when I thought you were starting to purr.”

“Fuck you,” you said as the alcohol thinned the filter between your thoughts and your words.

“Oh, I can make that happen,” he hissed as he lifted the hem of his shirt and tore it off. He hung it over the towel bar and felt along his damp torso, “I can’t let you bite and not give you a good swat for it.”

“Don’t be an ass. It’s a drink. You can’t just talk to me like that. I’m not some animal--”

“Shhh,” he hushed as he covered your mouth and pushed you against the sink, “I’m not listening. That’s not how this works…” he leaned in and lowered his voice, “you realise how bad this is? You challenged me in front of men; I won’t have it. We’re past niceties, kitten.”

His hands slipped over your hips and to your ass. He scooped you up and rested you atop the porcelain as he crushed his body against yours. He grabbed your chin and smothered your lips with his as he rolled his pelvis against you.

His hand fell and crawled along your throat. You turned your head away and gasped as his fingers hooked under the elastic of your leggings.

“What are you--”

“Don’t play dumb,” he nipped at your throat, “we’ve done this enough.”

“Not here,” you pushed on his shoulders, “you can’t--”

“I can do--” his other hand fell to your waist and he gripped the elastic, “whatever--” his hands snaked around you as his fingers slid between the fabric and your skin, “I want.”

He ripped your leggings down with your panties and forced them down your legs. He pulled until your legs wet bent in front of you and you were curled awkwardly atop the sink as you struggled with him.

“Stop-- I’ll be good--”

“Too late,” he shoved his hand between your legs and felt around roughly. 

The fabric of your leggings trapped your thighs and kept you bent against him painfully as he hunched over you. He pulled his hand away to fumble with his fly and shifted as he pushed down his zipper. He set his feet firmly and hooked his other arm around you as he pressed his tip along your folds.

He guided himself blindly over your cunt, his beer-laced breath choked you as your head spun. He rested his forehead against yours as your head was propped up against the mirror. He lined himself up with your opening and thrust bluntly inside of you. You exclaimed in surprise as the intrusion blazed through you.

You were drunk enough that it felt good but you were aware enough of what was happening. You slapped him and his head snapped to the side. He pulled back and slammed into you even deeper. He brought his lips to yours again and kissed you sloppily as he rocked against you. The counter groaned under both of your weight as you tried to hold in your voice.

He sped up as your breath quickened in time with his. You closed your eyes as he once more descended to your through and kissed and nipped at your skin. His hips tilted into you steadily as you wriggled against him.

He pushed his hand between your bodies and pressed two fingers to your clit. He rubbed as he kept his pace and you murmured as your drunken body responded. You dug your nails into his shoulders and your feet arched as the ripple began to flow over you. Your peak rose fast and you cried out without restraint as it took you off guard.

His own grunts added the furor and he moved faster atop you. His knee hit the front of the counter and he sunk to his limit as he quaked. He stopped and held himself as deep as he could, sliding back slowly only to ease back in as he came in long strokes.

He stopped and rested his head in the crook of your neck, his blond hair falling forward as he caught his breath. You shuddered and nudged his shoulders until he stood. He slipped out of you and sent a chill up your spine. Your body fell limp and you dropped from the counter onto shaky legs.

You felt his cum trickle down your thigh as he reached for the toilet paper and wiped himself clean. Your vision hazed as you reached for some as well and kept the mess from dripping into your panties. He cleared his throat and turned to examine his wet tee shirt. You pulled up your leggings and sniffed.

 It was all so sudden it was as if nothing had happened at all. You held yourself up against the wall and a knock came from the door. He opened it without pretense and greeted Steve’s girl as she peered inside nervously and glanced at you briefly. 

She held a folded shirt in her hands as she blinked meekly. She knew, they all knew. You had no doubt that they’d heard it all.

“Um, hopefully this fits,” she said as she handed the tee shirt to him, “and, we… we’re just about to have dessert.”

“Great. I’ve got quite the appetite,” he replied, “we’ll be out soon.”

He closed the door and turned back to look at himself in the mirror. He brushed past you so you were flush to the wall as he pulled on the shirt. It was too tight around his thick arms and his broad chest. He tidied his hair and rolled his shoulders as he admired his reflection.

“I think now you’ll be good, kitten,” he winked and reached to touch your cheek cloyingly, “best not to get my hackles up again.”

[uwurakax]

another day ♡

pairing: oikawa x f!reader ♡

genre: angsty // exes // mutual pining ♡

summary: after the constant fighting and bubbling insecurities, you and oikawa both decide that breaking up is probably for the best. too bad that it wasn’t what either if you had wanted ♡

♡ read part one ‘save your tears’ here ♡

word count: 2k ♡

author’s note: super tired, i should be packing but im not lol, 4am gang ayyy. as always not proofread because i cannot stomach the idea of rereading what i wrote. this was what originally ‘save your tears’ was going to be, but part one got too long so haha. spoils of part one, so if you haven’t read it go ahead, or don’t lolol it could be read alone ig hurr hurr ♡

♡ (inspired by save your tears - the weeknd/ariana grande) ♡

At one point in time, you would’ve enjoyed an atmosphere like this; the blaring lights, pounding music, and even the heat radiating off warm bodies in a cramped space. It was much more enjoyable when you had the familiar, comforting presence of him.

Yes him: Oikawa Tōru. Also known as the the guy who broke your heart less than two months ago. You hadn’t seen him since the week after, finally being able to pick up everything and go. It was scary how silent it was between you two. The unit the both of you had made a home, your first home with him, just a little more barren. Just a little more bare.

Just a little more empty.

Once homely rooms were now plain. To anyone else, it could be called minimalistic or modern. Sleek if you were to exaggerate it. To the both of you however, it was just stone cold. A lifeless corpse. One poor imitation of what it once was.

And seeing it like this was almost enough to have your heart break for a second time. It was a physical representation of your relationship. The feelings of warmth, comfort, admiration, any and every word any literary body could ever akin to love was once found here. It was sad to see it gone, almost like it was never there. However if you looked past the surface you’d see all the small details of things that once occupied the room. The once full drawers now easily fitting clothes with plenty of room to spare. A countertop with products only to one half of the sink. The minuscule dust imprints left behind on the shelves that once housed your books.

The lingering smell of your perfume that was once so prominent.

You couldn’t tell, but Oikawa could. In the week you were gone, it slowly started to fade. The first night Oikawa was drowning in it. It clung to, what once was, your pillow and on the blanket. Choking and suffocating him with the sweet smell. He couldn’t bear to see the bed without you in it, and hated the God awful smell. Opening the window and facing away, he had a dreamless sleep that night.

And as the week passed, so did the scent of you.

He couldn’t explain why, but the moment he opened the door, his body felt at ease. His eyes blessed, even if you had those dark circles and slightly red eyes with unkempt hair. It was as if it was instinct to feel relief at being near you.

It was the longest few hours of Oikawa’s life that day, and somehow it was still just too short. Helping you gather your things, putting them into boxes and loading them into a tiny hired truck until eventually there was nothing left.

You were gone from the apartment, and now Oikawa’s life.

It was awkward the second time, saying goodbye. The finality of it all dawning on the both of you. You at least had this excuse to see each other once more. After this, there was nothing. No more reasons to come back, to call, message or even see each other again.

This was officially the last time you’d ever get to see Oikawa Tōru.

You’d both stood there for a few moments, only the wind against leaves and the occasional car offering any sort of background noise. Neither of you wanting or willing for this moment to end. Despite it all, it wasn’t hard to see that you both yearned for each other. Just how cruel it was that you couldn’t see it.

Oikawa kept your pillow close that night. The smell of you was so faint, he was sure that it wouldn’t be too long before it completely faded. As he held the plush item near his chest he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of life he could’ve had with you if he wasn’t so prideful? All the fantasies and white picket fences surged in his mind, and so he finally drifted off to sleep, thinking of you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Here”

You turned to see your best friend handing you a glass of, well you weren’t sure exactly but anything to dull your senses at this point was okay in your book. Yes, almost two months since your breakup and you were still so torn. It was what he wanted right? Your lives are better this way. You’re sure his is. He wouldn’t have to hear you “nag” as he so put it, and you didn’t have to feel the exhaustion resulting because of it.

It was better this way. You knew it. Oikawa knew it. Your friends and family knew it. Heck even the old ladies down the damn street knew it.

So why did it feel so shitty.

You downed the drink quickly, not wanting to go through the spiral of emotions you were sure you were going to experience. You’d deal with the pain and hangover tomorrow like the adult you were. For now you just wanted to dance till your feet hurt, and then drink until they stopped hurting. A quick descent into self destruction that you’re sure you’d regret.

Or maybe you wouldn’t.

The moment you turned your head to get back to the dance floor you locked eyed with him.

For a moment you stopped breathing. The music faded out quickly and the patrons of the club disappeared. Suddenly it was just you and him.

He looked good this time around, nothing like the last time you saw him. His perfectly fluffed and styled hair that was just so effortlessly Oikawa had become messy bed head. His bright chocolate eyes that twinkled just a little with mischief when he smirked had become sunken. His whole demeanour had completely drooped into a depressive state. It hurt to see.

He wasn’t like that now. He looked like how he had been before. No longer were the remnants of a heartbroken man. Oikawa Tōru had gone back to his charming self once again.

A cute girl with silky, long black hair approached him and just as quick as they went, everything came flooding back; the music, people and you found yourself being able to breathe again.

She touched his arm and laughed. The look in her eyes filled with the glimmer coyness. Her body language oozed with flirty persona. It was all too familial.

You should’ve guessed that he’d date again. It wasn’t like he couldn’t. The moment you both severed the relationship he had every right to do what he wanted. You did too. Sure you were seeing someone, but it wasn’t like that.

All too, touchy-feely.

It hurt to see, you weren’t going to lie. Seeing the way he touched her, held her, danced with her. For a good portion of the night you saw it. Seeing him be with her, the way he used to with you. No longer being the main character in his story; you were in the audience, watching.

You didn’t want to stay until the ending.

Without a word, you briskly brushed passed sweaty bodies, being bumped a few times before you finally made it to the door and opened it.

You walked a couple paces to the middle of the footpath, deeply inhaling the fresh air. It wasn’t suffocating anymore. You fumbled with your purse, reaching inside to pull out your phone. With the glow of neon lights emanating behind you, you saw a stray tear on the blackness of your screen.

Fuck, when did that happen?

You wiped it with the palm of your hand, and went to unlock your phone. As you prepared to send a text you heard the call of your voice.

“Tōr-Oikawa?”

He mentally winced at this, the formal tone of using his surname struck something inside. He didn’t like it, not at all. It wasn’t right, it felt strange.

“What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here? You followed me”

“Right... I guess I just wanted to see how you were, that’s all” he looked away, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. You softened at this. It just took you back to why you fell for him in the first place. The little things like this, that made you feel cared for and loved. Perhaps for a few minutes you could be delusional and pretend that Oikawa still cared for you.

“I’m fine, what about you? How is everything going?” Yikes. You cringed at how awkward you were being. You supposed that that’s how it was, not exactly friends and not complete strangers either.

“Yeah fine too...” he trailed off, and just like that you were brought back to that time before you left. Before the official goodbye. Not ready to end things just yet, but neither knowing what more to say.

Just for a little while, let me remember every trace, curve and detail.

You didn’t know what came over you, but soon enough you found yourself drawing closer to Oikawa. He looked at you with half lidded eyes, not daring to move a step, almost afraid if he did it would ruin this moment with you. Yes, it was selfish but...

You lifted your hand to cup his cheek, just like a memory from before. Using the pad of your thumb, you gently brushed over the soft skin. Ever so delicately, you traced down his jaw. The intimacy of your movements crossed a boundary between you. You knew it and he did too. You’d let yourselves be greedy though.

Oikawa raised his own hands to touch your face, perfectly ingraining it into his mind and body. His fingers slowly going over your features. He wouldn’t allow himself to forget any part of you.

It wasn’t long until you both wanted to overstep more.

The longing between you too great to try and stop. Eventually you both moved closer, faces and soul alike reaching for the other. Just a bit closer.

“Y/N?”

“Oikawa?”

You both frantically pulled away, heart racing now.

“Kageyama..”

“Tobio”

Oikawa tried to hide the venom in his voice, he really did, but when he saw Kageyama make his way beside you he couldn’t help but see red.

It didn’t seem like life was playing a very fair game.

“Oikawa are you alright?” He looked down at the petite girl beside him, now clinging to his arm. He threw on one of his brilliant smiles and told her it was okay.

“Are you cold? Here” Oikawa couldn’t keep up that smile for too long, not when he saw him putting his jacket around you. How you snuggled into the warmth. How it showed Oikawa that you were no longer his, and that you now found solace in another.

He couldn’t blame you, he knew that deep inside. He did the same, why shouldn’t you? It didn’t stop the burning hatred and envy he felt. The overwhelming sadness that enveloped him. All a heavy dump of emotions thrown on him within a few seconds.

You felt it too though. That girl hanging off his arm. Getting to parade around that Oikawa was hers. It was totally unreasonable to feel this way. You both ended things. It was mutual right? You would’ve told him and he would’ve told you if this breakup was a mistake right?

Right?

“Wanna go?” Kageyama whispered in your ear. You nodded.

“It was nice seeing you again T-Oikawa” you smiled sadly.

“You too Y/N...bye” you both turned away, walking in opposite directions. With every step, your heartache grew just a little more. Almost like your body needed to be near his, the memories it held being more truthful than your head could ever be.

Your heart, body and soul wanted Oikawa.

Your mind told you to let him go for his sake.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Hey Oikawa?”

“Yes Kageyama?”

“Hmm?”

“He was your ex right? Oikawa?”

“That girl back there, is she her? The ex?

“Yeah he was”

“Yeah, she was”

“Do you still love him?”

“Do you still love her?”

There was a pause and you both stopped, mulling the question over.

Did you still love each other? It wasn’t hard to tell, everyone knew the answer. Ask any stranger but...

“No”

..

...

..

You both lied.

[thran-duils]

Lost in Zero Gravity (P.24, FINAL)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Twenty Four, FINAL) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 2,768 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior, drug use

Author’s Note: This took a couple more days than I planned. I had started writing and got to like 1,200 words and then I was like mhm... abandoned that doc and started another. I was grappling between two different paths and I went with the happier one. We’ve had enough angst!

Part Twenty Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

ALT ending (not complete, will not be completed)

Balancing the bowl on your stomach, you laid back eating grapes in silence. You were alone in the apartment. Again. Tony had been acting more distant now that you were really starting to show as you came into your sixth month. It smaller things at first, like you caught him staring at your protruding stomach and he looked away quickly when he noticed you saw or sex being from behind more often than not now. But now it was apparent something was wrong. He slept at home half the week now.

It should not be a shock; he had voiced his opposition to the whole thing from the start and you knew that is what was driving the wedge.

The grapes were doing little to satisfy your craving for French fries. You had just had some yesterday and you were trying to be good today. It was proving to be very difficult when you could just have them delivered and Wylan could bring them up for you.

As if on cue, the apartment door open and the smell of fried food hit your nostrils. You moved the bowl and sat up with some difficulty, spotting Tony walking towards the kitchen with a bag. Your mouth was already watering.

He tossed a look over his shoulder and asked, “Still having the craving?” He took in the look on your face and he cracked a smile. “Looks like it. I see I’ve brought you over to the dark side with it being a comfort food.”

“I don’t want this to last,” you said as you stood up, leaving the grapes behind on the coffee table. “I’ll be hundred pounds heavier if it keeps up.”

You sat down at the table, thankful that you had ordered the pillow covers for the chairs; they were far more forgiving on your backside than the plain hardwood. Tony placed a plate in front of you and handed you the ketchup and mustard before going back for his plate. He sat back down at the table in the chair across the table and began to eat.

Silence fell over the table as you ate some of the fries, paying more attention to them than the burger.

After a little while, you could not stand it anymore and you had to ask.

“Are... are we okay?”

Tony stopped eating and looked up at you with a concerned look. He placed his burger down and gave you his full attention. “What do you mean?”

“You seem… off. You have seemed off. The last couple of months. Like you kind of don’t want to touch me.”

He sighed, rubbing at his face. He looked like he was gathering his thoughts and you stayed quiet.

“It bothers me.” You looked at him expectantly, wanting him to say more when he paused. “You’re pregnant, for one. It’s a... thing for me. Just thinking about the baby in there and my dick around it.” You did your best to not crack at that, even the slightest of smirks. You wanted him to explain himself and not interrupt. “But you’re also pregnant with Steve’s kid. It... it makes me uncomfortable.” He paused and chewed on his bottom lip before meeting your eyes. “I don’t like watching him watch you. At the appointments I mean. He’s just... I know how he is and it’s not a good look that he’s giving you. And he’s so touchy feely about it and it makes me angry. Yeah. It makes me angry. That’s it. I hate it. I hate what he did. And he still wins and gets what he wants.”

“He doesn’t have to suffer through any of it and meanwhile you’re over here with body aches and looking down the barrel of the gun of childbirth. And it stresses me out because Steve told me he wanted to be there at the hospital, and I don’t think he should be in the room with you. He doesn’t deserve to be. Because I was done dealing with him after I learned what he had done.” He hesitated and saw you were still listening with rapt attention. He swallowed sharply before his eyes softened and he said calmer, “And it made me angry you gave him this satisfaction. Rewarded him for his behavior in a way. I wish you would have listened to me and just let me pay him out so this wouldn’t be a thing. And now we both have to deal with.”

You were quiet, staring down at your hands.

“I... I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I think about it too. He didn’t even ask if he could touch me when I was on the table the first appointment, he just did it. And I didn’t make a scene. And he just ran with that as permission for whenever he was around me in the room at the appointments, he could touch me however. And still, I didn’t cause a scene because there was a nurse or a doctor in there all the time, and he seemed to know them all, and I didn’t want to have any bad blood with them myself. Just for the baby’s sake. I might not be keeping them but this whole thing isn’t their fault and I want them to have good treatment.”

“And as far as you paying him out… I didn’t want you to do that. I wanted it to be me. I wanted him to get that payment from me so he couldn’t write it off as someone else just taking care of me. And not take me seriously when I said I wanted to be done. It means more coming from me. It sucks, this whole thing is not a cakewalk. But, I think it’ll be worth it in the end. I didn’t have control of the situation at the beginning, but I do now. I made the decision.”

Tony was letting what you said sink in. He grabbed a fry and ate it slowly, looking lost in thought. He finally leaned back and met your eyes again.

“I get that,” he said sounding sincere. “It always means more if you’re the one that made the effort. Not just for them but for you.” He nodded and then said, “And I’m sorry for making you feel lonely.”

Trying to joke, you said, “I’ve got Luna.”

“I hope I’m not that easily replaced.”

“No. You’re not.”

He smirked briefly before saying, “Only three more months.”

“Or less.”

“Or less. Way to be hopeful.”

<><><>

You had had false contractions before, but these were stronger. And they were going on for longer than they had before. Gritting your teeth, you wobbled to the door and opened it.

“Terrence!” you called down the hallway. He was there quickly, and you leaned against the doorframe. “It’s bad.”

“What’s bad?” He asked sounding worried.

“The contractions. They’re longer and hurt. I think it’s time!”

“Let me call Tony.”

He whipped out his cell phone and dialed. He was speaking to him quickly. “Hey, Y/N says she thinks it’s time? I’m not sure. She said they’re longer and hurt more?” You gasped as you felt a pop internally and then wetness. You grasped at your crotch and felt dampness. Terrence had followed your hand and he looked slightly more pale. “Anddddd, I think her water just broke. Do you want me to take her?”

<><><>

A soft cry greeted you as you woke up. When they had brought you into the room, you had fallen asleep almost immediately, exhausted. How long had you been sleeping? You turned your head to the right seeing the baby next to your bed, fussing weakly. There was a nurse there and she noticed you were awake.

“Perfect timing, momma. I think he’s hungry.”

“It’s still here?”

“Yes?” The nurse said looking completely confused by your reaction and probably more so that you called him ‘it’. She watched you closely, looking suspicious.

Clearing your throat, you adjusted in the bed and asked, trying to sound calm, “Has... has the father come yet?”

The nurse shot a look in the corner, looking even more confused than before. You did not have time to follow her gaze before Tony’s voice sounded, “I only texted him five minutes ago.”

He was sitting on the built-in bench along the window. You had not even noticed him, all your focus on the small life next to you.

“He’s probably trying to get away from whatever he’s doing and get through traffic,” Tony continued.

So, Tony had not called Steve while it was happening. You had been in labor for five hours. Steve was not going to be happy that Tony had not contacted him, and he had missed the birth while Tony had been there instead. But you were relieved that Steve had not simply blown it off; when you had been in the delivery room, the thought had flashed through your mind.

The nurse raised up your bed and helped you open your gown. She adjusted a pillow to rest on your stomach and went back to grab him. You were hesitant but you held out your arms all the same, taking him gently from the nurse. She helped push his blanket so he was bare against you. You were trying to not be stiff feeling the contact.

“A little closer. The skin-on-skin contact is good,” the nurse encouraged.

Doing as she said, you forced yourself to relax more. His mouth was wet, and you shivered, causing the nurse to chuckle softly, saying to not worry, you would get used to that.

No you wouldn’t, you thought instead of saying it out loud.

Your finger traced along his cheek as he sucked, his little hand resting on your breast next to his mouth. He was calm now, serene in his eating.

“Looks like you’re a natural,” the nurse commented happily. “Be thankful for that!”

“He’s fine, then?” you asked her, looking up.

She nodded, “Healthy as can be.”

“Good,” you said quietly, looking back down at him. You searched his small face, trying to see any part of Steve. The nose maybe, but it was a little wide. His eyes had not been open long enough for you to see and you were not going to disturb him, choosing to keep him comfortable as he fed.

<><><>

You were woken again when you heard people speaking. Blinking awake, your vision cleared to Steve and Tony talking in low voices by the door.

“You fucking prick,” Steve was saying, sounding pissed. “I told you—”

“I was a little preoccupied as you can imagine,” Tony retorted quietly.

Steve spotted you were awake over Tony’s shoulder, and he sucked his teeth before clearing his throat. Snapping his head back to Tony, he said in a dangerous voice, “I’d like the room. If you can find it in yourself to back off for just a while.”

Tony looked over his shoulder, seeing you watching, and sighed before walking back over and grabbing his coat, sunglasses, and phone. He leaned over you and said, “I’ll be back.” He gave you a quick peck on the top of the head before moving past Steve, the two of them sharing a cold look.

Steve walked further into the room, and you were fixated on him for a moment before you turned your attention towards where the baby was sleeping. He approached and looked down at them, a small smile painted on his lips. Reaching out, he touched their cheek, his smile growing.

“Look at him,” Steve said quietly. “Perfect as can be.” He met your eyes and asked, “No complications?” You shook your head. “Good. And he fed?” You nodded again. “Look at you. Perfect as can be too. Though I am not surprised about that.”

Always with the flattery.

He collapsed into the chair beside the little bed and yours. He looked disappointed when he said, “I wanted to be here.”

“Sorry,” you apologized. “I was a little busy.”

“I’m not blaming you. I should’ve known Tony would be an ass about it. Always has to get a jab in. This one was taking it a little too far but I’m just glad everything went okay and you’re alright.”

“I was surprised he was still here when I woke up afterwards,” you told him honestly.

Steve told you, “I’ll take him when you are ready to discharge. It would look odd for me to take him before. Would raise a lot of questions that I don’t feel like getting into with the hospital.” That made enough sense to you. “Plus, let him get as much milk as he can from you before he switches over to formula and my wife’s. I’m worried he won’t take to hers but maybe he won’t be picky.”

He had never told you the specifics about what was going on with her child and you had not asked. You were sure you did not want to know.

“Well, he latches well enough to me. I hope she doesn’t have any trouble,” you said sincerely. Steve was watching you intently and you asked slowly, “What?”

His voice was soft, “Don’t you want to know what his name is?”

“No,” you told him sharply.

“Don’t want to get attached? I know a name can do that.”

“I don’t want to know,” you repeated firmly.

Steve looked sour for a brief moment before he remarked, “I’ll fill the paperwork out then, so you don’t have to see it. Have they dropped it off yet? The birth certificate paperwork, I mean.” You shrugged and he said, “I guess I’ll have to ask one of the nurses when they come in.”

“I’ll be staying here,” he continued on. “Just to make sure I get that paperwork and I’m here when you discharge. Won’t be leaving that up to Tony again. Unlike him, I’ll text him when you’re ready to go so he’s here to get you and you aren’t stranded here upon discharge. I’d take you myself, but Cecile is going to come to be able to go home with me and… the baby.” He had almost slipped up and you had a feeling he had done it on purpose.

He sat forward again, pulling the little bed closer to him, peering over at the little bundle.

“You did good, dove,” he murmured, his eyes fixated on his son. “I never doubted you for a second.”

<><><>

You stood up from the wheelchair and stood up, stretching a little. “Now that that’s over,” you muttered as Tony opened the passenger door. You had been annoyed they had insisted that you had to take a wheelchair out of the hospital. You had been in there for two days and you just wanted to walk more than just around your room, although that had not been recommended. You needed to take it easy while your body healed.

Steve’s voice sounded from behind you, and you turned your head, seeing him walking out with a woman. Your eyes snapped down to the bundle in her arms, seeing the little boy she was cradling. As if she sensed you, she looked over, locking eyes. You saw her eyes flick to Tony and you saw in real time the realization wash over her features before her eyes snapped back to you.

“Come on, Y/N,” Tony said at the same time as you tore your gaze away from her. His hand was around you, guiding you into the car.

The door closed behind you, and you waited for him to get inside. He was quiet when he did, pushing the start button on the car.

You snuck a glance in the side mirror and saw they were gone, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Could’ve done without that,” you exhaled.

“I’m sure she could have too,” Tony replied as he pulled away from the curb.

The city passed by as he weaved in and out of traffic. Your hands rested in your lap, watching the buildings go by. Your hand slipped up and you felt a small pang of loss at the flat abdomen you were greeted with. Your fingers flexed in, trying to force yourself to remember this is what normal was.

You startled slightly, pulled from your thoughts as Tony’s fingers slipped around yours, coming in between yours and your stomach. He closed his grip, holding your hand tight, bringing it back down to your thigh. He was quiet but he squeezed your hand reassuringly.

It was going to be okay, you told yourself.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick @holl2712 @here4thefanfics @agustdowney @fanofalltheficsx @buttercandy16 @last-saturday-night @woohoney

[slippinmickeys]

The Annapolis Grant, part 3/?

Despite being in first class and further away from the engine noise at the wings, the throttle up when the engines went to full on the runway never failed to wig her out. She gripped the armrests and closed her eyes, willing her pulse to go down. She repeated safety statistics silently in an attempt to remind herself that flying was still the safest way to travel, but it did little to assuage what she fully admitted was an irrational fear.

“Are you a nervous flyer?” Mulder’s voice rumbled at her shoulder. She opened her eyes to look at him, and he was leaning toward her, a look of concern in his eyes. She wanted to ease her grip on the armrests and give him a reassuring smile, but found she couldn’t. She nodded at him, pulling her lips into her mouth on a breath.

“Would it help to hold my hand?” he asked, rather sweetly holding out the palm of his hand toward her. She was about to refuse when the plane tilted sharply left. They’d opted to fly out of National rather than Dulles, which meant the aircraft had to bank more steeply at takeoff to avoid the no-fly airspace of the Capitol. Before it had even leveled out, Scully found she was gripping Mulder’s hand tightly, which he squeezed and pulled to rest gently on his knee.

His hand was warm, dry and soft, and he twisted it to interlace their fingers, his own long and elegant. Piano-playing fingers, her mother would call them.

“I’m not sure how much of a touchy-feely person you are,” he said after a couple of minutes, “but this is probably good.” He nodded toward their interlaced fingers. “How much public affection are you comfortable with?”

“Honestly?” Scully said, “Not much. But… I think I need to get over that for the purposes of this week. If we’re going to pull this off, we need to be convincing.” Mulder nodded and squeezed her fingers. “I’m not saying we need to lay it on thick,” she went on, “but, you should feel free to put your arm around me or hold my hand, or…” her voice trailed off as her thoughts spun.

“I’ll follow your lead,” he said, then lifted her hand and placed a soft kiss on it.

She felt her stomach dip. What was going on with her?

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself,” he said, “and I’ll do the same.”

“Good idea,” she said, and leaned back in the plush comfort of the first class seat, telling him everything she could think of about herself, starting at the beginning of her life and going onward. He was attentive, occasionally asking questions, and several times made comments that made her outright laugh. “And that’s… me.” She finished, “I work long hours, I practically live in my lab-”

“-and you recently acquired a devoted and loving fiance,” he finished for her.

She chuckled. “Yes,” she said, “and that.”

She looked down at their laced fingers, realizing that somewhere along the way, she’d forgotten to be scared of flying.

“So what about you?” she asked him. “What should I know about you for this week? What will we tell McKay?”

“I’m going to pivot a bit here,” he said, “go with it?”

“Okay...” she was curious.

“Do you have a ring?” he asked her. “An engagement ring?”

“You know, I’d thought about that,” she said. She remembered the first thing McKay had done when she’d mentioned a fiancé, was glance at her ring finger. “I told McKay that the engagement was new and that we were having the ring sized. I went to a couple pawn shops and an antique store this weekend, but I couldn’t find anything that would really work.”

“I may be able to help with that,” he said, letting go of her hand so that he could reach into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet pouch. He set it on the tray table in front of her.

She reached forward and pulled open the drawstring, shaking out its contents onto her palm. She gasped quietly. The ring was gold with an aged patina, a large diamond solitaire sat in the middle, flanked by two emerald cut sapphires.

“Mulder…” she said, looking up at him.

“It was my grandmother’s,” he said. “I find in these… situations, that sticking as closely to the truth as possible can help, well… sell the story. I’ll obviously need the ring back at the end of our arrangement, but little details might help this McKay to…”

“Believe the lie?” Scully offered.

“If you like,” Mulder said kindly.

Scully slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly.

“Good fit,” he said.

She smiled at him and met his eye. “So stick as closely to the truth as possible?”

“Whenever you can,” he said, tucking the empty pouch back into the inner pocket of his linen suit. “So. I’m going to tell you about myself -- things you should be comfortable sharing with McKay -- that way we won’t talk ourselves into any corners.”

“That sounds sensible,” she said, “one thing though.” He raised his eyebrows inquiringly. “What should we tell him you… do. For a living.”

He shrugged. “The truth.” It was her turn to raise eyebrows. “I’m pursuing my PhD,” he clarified. Her eyebrows went up even higher. “I was midway through my degree when my parents were killed in an accident. My sister was badly injured. She was in the hospital for months. I had to sell my parents house, move back… It cost a lot of money to get her where she is today. I do this job to finance my degree and to take care of her.”

Scully’s heart went out to him. Whatever she’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that.

“Is she okay, your sister?” she asked him.

“Samantha,” he said. “She has good days and bad. We’re getting through it.”

For the first time he seemed to clam up and his openness closed off a bit. She wouldn’t pry.

“What degree are you pursuing?” she asked him.

“Psychology,” he answered.

“Where?”

“Oxford, until the accident,” he said, “now Georgetown.”

Scully looked at him. He was absolutely full of surprises. She looked down at the ring on her finger. It was exactly the kind of thing she would have picked out for herself.

“I’m… I was not expecting…” she started to say before she was aware she’d even opened her mouth, she stopped herself before she insulted him, “this level of service,” she finished lamely.

Mulder stared at her baldly. “We’re a full-service boutique, Dr. Scully,” he said.

Scully felt her face flush.

The flight attendant came by then with hot towels, and Mulder turned from her to politely thank the attendant.

“Mind the prongs on the sapphires,” he said as Scully shook a little heat out of her own before using it, “they have a tendency to catch on sweaters and towels.” She looked over at him and he gave her a quiet smile.

Xx

They were the first off the plane, out of the jetway and snaking into the masses -- LAX was absolutely packed, filled with travelers either coming or going for the Independence Day holiday. As they passed a gate that was about to board, a man wearing a huge backpack turned around, not paying attention to the added bulk strapped to his shoulders and bumped roughly into Scully, who stumbled. Mulder smoothly grabbed her elbow, righting her. From that point on, he led her gently through the busy terminal, one hand resting on the small of her back and the other held out to keep people out of her space.

He collected their luggage as it came off of the carousel, taking her suitcase and his own garment bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He then nodded toward an area near the exit doors.

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand, “I think that’s our driver.” There was an impeccably liveried older gentleman standing with a sign reading “SCULLY.” When she looked up at him, his eyes were bright and focused on her.

It was odd. She'd dated men who'd been sweet and conscientious. She'd had boyfriends that made her feel safe and taken care of. She'd met men (and a few women) who made her feel wanted -- who looked at her with a hunger that made her skin feel tight around her bones. But she'd never experienced all of those things at once, all from the same person. An odd feeling that crept up her spine, but she shook it off, following the driver McKay had sent to their waiting limousine.

XxX

She had forgotten about the traffic in LA. Despite the fact that the airport was very near where McKay’s yacht was docked in Marina del Rey, it still took forty five minutes to get to the marina, enough time for Scully to have second thoughts. And third. And fourth. By the time the limo crawled to a stop in a narrow parking lot adjacent to the docks, Scully was as tense as a tightrope, ready to snap.

The driver opened the door nearest Mulder, who rose confidently onto the hot asphalt and held out a hand to help her out.

“This way, please,” the driver said, turning on his heel to lead them toward the docks. Scully turned back to the car to inquire about their luggage, but there were already two -- what Scully assumed to be dockhands or porters, pulling their baggage out of the trunk -- they were dressed alike, each in navy shorts with a walkie talkie clipped to their waist, and a crisp white polo shirt with the name “Dominus” embroidered on the front.

When the driver led them to the plank leading to the boat, she heard Mulder’s small intake of breath. She was bowled over, herself. She’d expected it to be big, but the Dominus was massive. She could see various crew members darting about on the various decks, and there, standing at the top of the teak and chrome boarding plank was Alexander McKay himself. She took a deep, steadying breath.

A man and woman dressed in the crew uniform met them at the bottom of the plank.

“Hello,” the man said, extending a hand. “I’m Greg, I’m the head steward for the Dominus. This is Krista,” he gestured to the woman, who smiled at them warmly, “she’ll be your personal steward. Anything at all you need, find one of us. We’ll be sure your baggage gets to your stateroom. Welcome aboard.” He gestured them toward the ship.

Mulder and Scully both gave them their thanks and then turned to… well, to walk the plank, thought Scully. Into the depths we go.

Just as she was about to take a step, Mulder put a hand on her shoulder and leaned down to place a kiss into her hairline. She looked up to see McKay watching, a smile she couldn’t read playing about his lips.

With Mulder close behind her, she stepped aboard.

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

Unhealthy Obsession

Pairing - Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax x Reader

Warnings - Violence, yandere undertones, stalking, gore (this seems to be a running theme in my works huh). The reader is scawwy ><

Other Comments - I’ve seen so many of these types of fic but it was always Childe being yandere, so why not yandere reader??? I put this in a time line slightly more recently so there is actual like technology like phones and stuff in this. Oh and the reader had a bow for a weapon in this hehe.

      Childe was infamous for his charm, having the ability to have the entirety of Liyue under his thumb if he so pleased. Of course, he was able to use this to his advantage when collecting debts and manipulating the people he needed to. Childe’s newest person of interest was the daughter of a shop owner who was indebted to the Fatui. 

      You had also found yourself enthralled by Childe’s charm, but unlike the many others he used it on he had actually considered you a genuine friend. One close enough to him for him to reveal his hidden agendas and dirty work plans. Now of course you unfortunately found yourself with the semblance of a crush on the copper haired man; which at first wasn’t the worst until you began witnessing the actions of the girl.

      Much to Childe’s ignorance, you had been watching his movements for a while now, which also means watching the touchy feely actions of the girl. She loved to give him hugs was they took their separate ways, or would lean on him any chance she got really. It was starting to piss you off but you also found it quite humorous. This girl was so stupid, thinking Childe was actually interested in her; of course you couldn’t really blame her since Childe was so good at his job.

      Things were beginning to get out of hand though, as now not only did you feel the need to keep some tabs on Childe’s antics; you know had to keep track of the girls actions. And tonight was an eventful one to say the least. After quietly watching Childe from the shadows for quite some time, you could say you were quite skilled in stealth so it was incredibly easy to follow around the girl without looking suspicious, as you watched her walking along the shops of Liyue Harbor.

      Tonight you could see her heading towards the Scent of Spring perfume shop, so you decided to follow a little ways behind and then find yourself a good spot within earshot. You decided to lean against a wall and look to be occupying yourself on your phone so as to not look odd.

       “Well hello, you're looking rather fetching today. Care to take a look inside Scent of Spring? I'm sure you'll find something unforgettable~!” Ying’er was a lovely woman, as well as being incredibly skilled in the art of creating perfumes.

      “Ah hello! Uh I was looking for something that could get a guy to fall for me?” The girl spoke hurriedly, almost as if she was embarrassed for making such a request. You grit your teeth, silently groaning, as Ying’er giggled before responding.

      “Oh young love, how cute! Of course you look to be the lady who would enjoy Valley Weaver? Or maybe Golden House Maiden if you’re looking for something a bit sweeter and more candy like? Would you care for a sampling?” The girl nodded enthusiastically and Ying’er brought out the two previously mentioned scents, handing both over to the girl.

      “They both smell so amazing! But I think Valley Weaver is a little bit more endearing.” Ying’er hummed in response as she stored away the other perfume. While she was doing this the young girl brought out a small bag of mora. You rolled your eyes shaking your head. Your phone quickly took you out of the interaction as it buzzed in your hand. Your mood immediately brightened as you saw you had received a text from the one and only Childe.

      “Hey babe! Where are you? I let myself into your apartment, hope you don’t mind too much :)” You giggled to yourself before rolling your eyes and shooting back a text.

      “Of course you did. Well I just went on a little walk around Liyue, I’m heading back now; of course make yourself at home but I’m sure you already have.” You shook your head, still smiling to yourself. You had to say, this was great timing as it gave you an excuse to leave. Leaving the same time as the girl would’ve been far too suspicious so this was convenient.

      You made sure to take all of the shortcuts to your apartment and tried your best to walk as briskly as possible. You didn’t want to keep the man you were doing all of this for in the first place waiting after all.You didn’t even have to announce your arrival since the loud squeak of your door did it for you, allowing Childe’s familiar cologne to fill your nose.

       “Hey babe! How was your walk? It’s awfully late for a walk isn’t it?” You smiled, as Childe’s comforting voice filled the room, the only other noise being the muddled voices leaving your old tv in the living room.

      “Well it was a nice night out tonight, plus I enjoy looking at the shops; they always have such nice stuff.” You quickly took your place next to Childe on the couch, not too close to consider it borderline cuddling but close enough to feel his warmth. Childe placed his arm behind you, almost allowing it to fall onto your shoulders.

      “That being said, you have yet to reveal to me what the motive is behind gracing me with your presence, unannounced might I add.” You heard Childe chuckle next to you, as you found yourself absentmindedly watching whatever the hell he had playing on the TV.

       “Well, I’ve been pretty busy for the time being, and I guess I found myself missing your company.” You screamed mentally, the butterflies in your stomach dancing around excitedly.

      “You have been quite busy, unfortunately for you though, the same cannot be said.” Childe let out a boisterous laugh, playfully nudging you with his side. You giggled as well, shaking your head before looking up at the taller man. Both of you stared at each other for what felt like ages, before you felt Childe’s arm wrap itself around your side pulling you closer to him. Suddenly your lips were pressed against his, as he pressed you against him. You allowed yourself to tangle your fingers into his copper hair.

      This sparked a make out, bordering on heavy petting as both of you were pressed as close together as humanly possible. Childe’s hands had found themselves comfortably resting against your ass, as he would occasionally squeeze. All too soon though, he pulled away; a shit eating grin plastered onto his face. You blushed bright red before lightly smacking him in the chest with the back of your hand. You watched him snicker before pulling out his phone and looking at the time.

      “Well it’s getting really late, and as much as I would like to stay here and keep you up, I should probably head out.” Childe ended his statement with a wink causing you to become an even more flustered mess. He was the first to get up, help you up as well before pulling you into his chest. Neither of you usually participated in hugging as a farewell, but it’s not as if you were complaining about being pressed against his firm chest.

      With at, Childe was gone; casing your apartment to feel far too empty. Though, this gave you the opportunity to excitedly jump around and quietly scream as you relived the actions that had just transpired between the two of you. He was right though, it was incredibly late and you had just now realized how tired you were. At least this would send you off with some interesting dreams.

      And here you were again, in the familiar situation of carefully watching this annoying girl. You had overheard her on the phone with presumably no one other than Childe. She had asked him to meet her around the pound by the shops in Liyue tonight, which after hanging up she excitedly clapped for; confirming that Childe had said yes. You knew it was going to be too risky to go there in your normal attire, as you couldn’t be recognized by Childe under any circumstance so you decided you would go home and get changed.

      You felt like a genius for changing into black clothes, as you had found yourself a pitch black alleyway to hide in that gave you a clear shot of what was happening. Sure you couldn’t hear what they were saying but that was the least of your worries for the time being. You watched as the girl flaunted herself and flipped her hair around, clearly trying to get her money's worth out of that perfume she had bought the night before. It all made you feel sick. She was nowhere near Childe’s league.

       For the most part, everything was fine; just them having a boring conversation until the girl did something unexpected. She reached for Childe’s arm, and pulled him down into a kiss. You had never been so enraged before, seeing red and acting without thought. Before you could think twice you bow was drawn and pointed directly at her.

      It all happened in a flash, an arrow flying out of nowhere, the puncture into the girls head, her falling back as Childe stumbled back as well, all of the guards rushing towards them. Childe’s eyes were blown out wide looking around wildly for the source of the arrow. Right as you were beginning to turn back your eyes met his. Fuck.

      You began sprinting back to your apartment, hopefully if he came by your apartment you could be changed into something different so you could try and persuade him into thinking he saw someone else. And thank the gods time was on your side; you had managed to finish getting dressed into your sleepwear right as you hear a knock on your door. Your heart was racing but you knew if you took too much time answering the door, it would be even more suspicious so you needed to act as normal as you could manage. You cracked the door open like usual and were greeted by a familiar face.

      “Oh my god (y/n) you will never guess what just happened.” You stepped aside as you opened the door for Childe.

       “What happened?” You tried your best to not sound very interested hoping that would throw him off.

      “So you remember that girl I had been telling you about? The daughter of that one shop owner?” You nodded in confirmation as you headed to your small kitchen to put on some tea for the both of you. Childe stood on the other side of the counter.

      “Well she had called me earlier today and asked if I could meet with her tonight. Of course I accepted and we were in the middle of a conversation when she had pulled me down to kiss her! That's not even the worst part though, she was shot immediately after!” You feigned surprise as you gasped looking up at him.

      “Oh my god what?! That’s awful! I imagine the pond was quite a mess with all the guards?” You hadn’t even realized what came out of your mouth until he began to speak again.

      “Huh… That's strange, I never told you where it happened.” Your eyes widened as you quickly looked back down to the teapot that was now whistling at you.

      “You know what else is strange? I think the arrow looked really familiar; and that’s not even the weirdest part. I could’ve sworn I saw someone who looked identical to you who was in the same place the arrow came from. Your blood ran cold. He knew and there was no way you could persuade him otherwise.

      “You know I don’t like when people lie to me (y/n) so I am only going to ask this once. Were you the one that fired the arrow?” You had just finished pouring the water over the tea leaves when he asked you. Your clenched fists were now resting next to the two cups, as you struggled to hold back the tidal wave of anguish. But in the end you couldn’t.

      “She fucking kissed you! How could I sit there and do nothing about it! I have been putting up with her touchy feely bullshit for weeks now! I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing as she kissed what was supposed to be MINE!!!” You were breathing heavily, your face red and chest tight. Childe was silent and you refused to look up to meet his gaze. After what felt like hours, you heard his heavy footsteps move towards you. You screwed your eyes shut too scared of what his reaction was going to be. Only when he gently put his hand under your chin and tilted your head up did you open your eyes.

       “I am yours (y/n). You didn’t even give me the chance to push her away. You’re a really good shot though.” Your eyes were blown out wide as he smiled down at you.

       “You’re not… Disgusted with me? Or enraged?” Childe chuckled.

      “(Y/n) I’ve done much worse things than this, it would be hypocritical of me to be mad at you. But if that situation ever happens again, at least give me some time to push them away before taking it into your hands alright? I might admit I do find it endearing that you would kill someone for me; but let me be the one to have blood on my hands alright?” You smiled and nodded before he pulled you into a hug.

      “Now, shall we have that tea?”

[the-hopeless-haze]

I hope he’ll be a beautiful fool that takes my spot next to you

Pairing: Sonny Carisi/reader, past!Rafael Barba/reader

Warnings: lots of angst (I bring up Undiscovered Country.... soooo...) smut (it’s NSFW people lol)

Word Count: like 5k words? Idk it’s a long one folks but I deliver

Summary: Based on “exile” by Taylor Swift for @thatesqcrush​ ‘s Valentine’s Day Bingo! Basically the reader used to date Barba until she didn’t and ended up with Sonny. Rafael is less than pleased. This is a cliche pairing (for good reason! It’s so fun to write!) but I like to think I added a fun twist... Sonny is an absolute mess, Rafael is very jealous, reader is a tad bit vindictive. This can be read in conjunction with “Being Alive” but it’s really a detour and a very loose association... there are just references because it’s so hard for me to write for these characters outside of that lens since I’ve been writing it for so long. That being said this can absolutely be read by itself and this only works if Rafael and the reader didn’t progress as characters in BA anyway lol

Murderous rage doesn’t even begin to describe what Rafael feels right now.

Behind the anger, there’s a sadness, cold and hard as stone, but he won’t touch that. It’s so much easier to be angry at Sonny than deal with anything that has to do with you. And that’s fair, isn’t it, anyway? Sonny swooped in the second things turned sour between you and Rafael and didn’t even give the two of you a chance to patch things up.

Or you went to Sonny of your own accord.

Maybe that’s more likely, but that hovers too close to the ache in his chest and he doesn’t allow himself to dwell there. Instead, he lets his ire build up until it consumes him, shooting daggers at the two of you across the bullpen office.

The two of you had always been touchy-feely - you were partners after all, very close, but you’d trained Rafael to swallow his jealousy. Told him you didn’t see Sonny like that. And for the most part, he learned to believe you. So now, he has to wonder how much of that was a lie, how much he didn’t see between the two of you, because there’s no way in hell you’d allow Sonny to touch you like this if it weren’t precedented.

Yes, at work, no less, you and Sonny are sitting at your adjoined desks, but you moved your chair to squeeze as close to him as possible. His arm is slung across your shoulder, a relaxed grip, because he knows there’s nothing Rafael can say or do that would make you leave him. Your head is resting on Sonny’s vested shoulder, and you’re laughing at something he said, no doubt a stupid joke that only you would find the humor in.

Death would be more welcome, Rafael thinks, then curses himself for being overdramatic. Still, when was the last time Rafael had been able to make you laugh?

Olivia had warned him of this new arrangement, but nothing could prepare him for this. Didn’t Rafael matter at all to you?

You lean up to kiss Sonny and Rafael thinks he might puke. —- Maybe Sonny should feel more guilty for kissing your mouth like you’ve been his this whole time, but he doesn’t. Because now he knows without a doubt in his mind this is where you belonged. He can feel the weight of Rafael’s gaze across the room, but he doesn’t mind carrying it, shielding you from it.

He did feel awful the day you came to him, your touch freezing and clammy from the inclement weather that you traveled through to get to his apartment, and then you practically pounced on him, told him you wanted him - and what was Sonny to do? Say no? No, after asking you a million times if you were sure, he gave into a temptation he’d be lying if he said he never thought about before. Of course, Sonny always imagined being between you and Rafael - he loved both of you in different ways, and the two of you seemed like a package deal at the time his original fantasies started to occur - but if you alone were going to come onto him, he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to oblige.

Don’t sleep with your partner was probably the first unwritten rule in becoming a detective, but it’s not like Sonny was going to stay at the precinct, anyway. He’d take Rafael’s place in the courtroom, too.

Still, when you first came onto him, he did feel a twinge of guilt, like he was hurting Rafael and you at the same time, in different ways, but then you explained it all to Sonny. How you always felt insecure around Rafael, that you weren’t sure if he really loved you, that you weren’t sure if you really loved him, that both of you had so much pressure to make this work that it started to fall apart under the weight of all your expectations.

You didn’t have to wait for Sonny to say he loved you, and you didn’t have to doubt it, either. He said it for the first time that same night, and he said it so fervently that you pulled his body back into yours, moaning your own declaration of love back to him. Maybe it was too soon, but he’d spent over a year pining for you (and Barba) in secret, and... well... he wasn’t going to waste what would be his only shot with one of you. He wanted you to know you would be well-cared for in his arms.

If looks could kill, Sonny would be dead on the spot and he knows this. But he also knows that jealousy is a cross Rafael has no right to bear. He had his shot, and he blew it. He should’ve let you know what you meant to him instead of clouding everything in his anxieties, his anger, his burdens from his past he never could let go of. Whatever he did now was too little too late, and even if Sonny had feelings for the lawyer, you always came first, and those said feelings would now never be stated out loud unless he got enough liquor in him and he was feeling sentimental that day.

Sonny used to root for you and Rafael, but he was always an embittered cheerleader, standing on the sidelines wishing someone could love him the way he thought you two loved each other. Appearances meant nothing, though. Now that you’ve let him in, he knows what you had with Rafael was far from the heaven you deserved.

And Sonny is all too keen to give you what you deserved.

As you lean up to kiss him again, he stops you for a moment, smiles down at you in adoration, and you giggle, “What?”

“Nothing,” he grins. “You’re just so beautiful, doll. I love you.”

Rafael’s gaze strengthens in intensity, and you almost turn to look in his direction before Sonny kisses you firmly, a smirk playing against your lips. This has to be killing Rafael, and Sonny isn’t usually that vindictive, but it gave him some sort of sick satisfaction that he was hurting Rafael just like Rafael had hurt you. And, you know, show Rafael what he was missing.

——

Sonny’s kiss is so warm, so comforting, but it doesn’t stop the ice running through your veins - you know Rafael is here despite Sonny’s best efforts to distract you from him. And you meet his eyes across the room for the first time since the night the two of you fought with each other for what would be the last time, the night you found yourself in Sonny’s arms instead. Those eyes add insult to injury, because you still know Rafael, and even if he’s standing across the room you know what he’s feeling. There’s anger there, but deep down you know he’s crushed at having seen you move on so quickly, and with someone he suspected you might leave him for in the first place. And he’s trying to drag you down to his level, get you to sit here in his misery with him.

This could break you if you don’t steel yourself, so you squeeze Sonny’s hand for support.

Sonny’s in tune with your body language, having been your partner for so long, and he stands to full attention, asking you if you’re alright.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, staring down Rafael until he makes his way over to your desk. You swallow thickly. Rafael when he was angry was never pleasant.

“This is cute, hmm?” he says bitterly, nodding sharply at the two of you.

“I like to think so,” you reply coolly, smiling at him.

“Barba, I know you’re waiting for Sarge, but can you please go wait somewhere else? She’ll be out any minute and you’re bothering (y/n),” Sonny asks, forever trying to be the peacemaker.

“She can handle herself,” Rafael says, chuckling sardonically, rolling up his sleeves nonchalantly. “Clearly. She doesn’t need you to fight her battles. But if you’d like to...”

“Mm, please, Rafael, like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me?” you snap. “Grow up. Everybody moved on. It’s time you do too.”

Rafael’s visibly taken aback by your verbal assault but he only lets it faze him momentarily. “Right. Moved on. Only took you five whole minutes to pack us up and leave me with it and you’re out here spreading your legs for someone else,” Rafael hisses, and you can see the moment when he realizes he went too far, the moment the wrath in his green eyes fades into regret.

“Get out,” Sonny says firmly, raising his voice enough to turn Amanda’s and Nick’s heads. “Get the fuck out. I don’t care how hurt you are, get out. You don’t talk to women like that. I’m honestly... I’m disgusted.”

“I... I am sorry—“ Rafael fumbles.

“A bit too late for that. I’m not your problem anymore, Rafael, so who am I offending now?” You ask. You weren’t upset by his statement - you did move fast with Sonny, faster than even you were immediately comfortable with, and you know how it must look to Rafael, how it must feed the flame of his absolute deepest and darkest insecurities.

Rafael glances around the room and realizes he’s caused a scene. Without a word, he leaves out the side door, forgetting his meeting with Olivia. He’s seen this film before, and the ending? It’s not worth sticking around for.

—-

Sonny could spend hours with his face between your legs, and he did. It was almost like the man never stopped talking because he wasn’t nose-deep in pussy - but you kind of chuckled at that thought because he wasn’t quiet even then. He’s always moaning, making obscene sucking sounds on your clit, talking to you, sending delicious vibrations straight to your core.

You come again, moaning and tugging at his hair, and Sonny adds to his total, grinning up at you, his face sinfully wet with your juices running down his chin. “That’s two down. Think you can give me one more before I fuck you?”

“Sonny, fuck,” you whine breathlessly as he runs his tongue over your now swollen and overstimulated clit. “I need a break.”

You love it. You’ve never had anyone this enthusiastic about pleasing you like this before, and you’ve never exactly been a pillow princess either, but Sonny protested if you even moved a muscle when he was going down on you, instead he’d chuckle and tell you to save your energy for when you ride him later. Not that he needed to be in you at all - you swear he could get off just eating you out. You never would’ve pegged giving oral as Sonny’s biggest kink, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

Sonny laughs heartily, crawling up the length of your body to kiss you deeply, the taste of you branded onto his lips and tongue. You moan as he rolls his hips against yours, the cloth from his boxers creating a tantalizing friction and you buck up against him on instinct.

“Ah-ah,” he tsks, moving off you to lay beside you. “I thought you needed a break, doll.”

You sigh, nodding, trying to catch your breath, but how could you, when he was still on the side of you, whispering dirty things in your ear? God, he really did never shut up.

“He ever fuck you like this?” Sonny asks, a devilish glint in his eye. For a second you think he’d take it back, apologize for asking such an intrusive question, but he doesn’t, and you know it’s because he’s just gone down on you for half an hour already and he’s got enough testosterone running through his veins he could kill anyone who glanced at you. Of course he was in competition with Barba, especially when he was this riled up.

“No,” you murmur, and you’re not lying. Sex with Barba was great, obviously, he’s very attractive and he knows what he’s doing. Rafael was a damn tease, but Sonny? Sonny was so much of a sap he couldn’t bear to hold anything back, couldn’t bear to see your lip tremble in want for even a second. And no one had time to fuck the way Sonny wanted to, drawing everything out and making you come so many times with his lips and tongue before he’d finally enter you. It’d always take a few hours, so this was usually saved for Monday mornings when the two of you didn’t go in until 3, or Friday nights when both of you were too wired to sleep anyway. Sure, there were days you were pressed for time and he needed to have you so more often than not he’d settle for making you come quickly on his face before pounding into you, but...

Rafael was a good, thorough lover, and god, you’d probably miss his hands for a long time to come, but Sonny’s tongue was such a good replacement.

“You just saying that, doll?” Sonny asks gruffly.

“No, honey, of course not,” you giggle. “No one’s as generous as you.”

“Generous? Huh. That’s a good one,” he laughs, and it seems like that comment brought out the underlying sap in him. His clear blue eyes soften and he smiles at you. “Nah, doll, I just love you so much, and making you feel good? What better way to show it, you know?”

This was a complete mess, you realized that, but you were blissfully happy in spite of it. How could you not be? It’d been an amazing three months. On nights the two of you didn’t work, you were treated to home-cooked dinners, bottles of wine, heated makeout sessions that always led to something more. If you worked, you’d take long showers together, massaging the knots out of each other’s muscles until you were both too dreary-eyed to stand.

Sonny was clingy, sure. You knew he would be, of course, and you weren’t used to that - sometimes you questioned if Rafael even wanted you in the same room - and it’s with a sudden realization that you come to terms with the fact that none of your relationships worked out because you needed that constant reassurance that Rafael and so many of your exes were reluctant to give.

It’s so easy to paint Rafael as a villain now that it was all over, but he wasn’t. You truly, truly loved him, even if he never took the time to learn your love language or make you dinner or marathon-fuck you. He showed his affection for you in other ways, but they weren’t as overt and it always left you questioning what he really wanted from you.

And anyway, it wasn’t enough to counteract the wrongs he’d done to you. Always making snide comments about how close you were to Sonny, to Amanda, to Nick, even... and it was in those moments you wish he didn’t love you so much, that he’d let you breathe instead of keeping such a constricting hold on you. You knew what he was scared of, he’d been cheated on before... but you hadn’t done anything.

He tried so hard to snare you down without taking into consideration that you already were his. Or, at least you had been.

When he got down on one knee you knew it was over. For him to be that insensitive, after you’d just gone through an accident and were barely coming back to life through damn near mandatory therapy and rehab... you couldn’t take it anymore. Didn’t he see the signs? You gave him so many, but he just never learned to read your mind after all that time.

And you didn’t want to be his, at least not in that regard. He wasn’t asking you for the right reasons. He was making up for lost time.

You never told Sonny that Rafael asked you to marry him, because that would wreck him and make you seem vindictive, but you have a feeling that Sonny knew anyway. Maybe Rafael mentioned it in passing. It doesn’t matter. You’d never be his wife now.

You didn’t intend this to be a long term thing with Sonny, but now you were used to him being in every facet of your life, and you supposed you did love him underneath everything. It was always Sonny who was there on those cold nights equipped with hot chocolate and cannolis, always him making you laugh when you were miserable about a spat you’d gotten in with Rafael, always him damn near reading your mind to give you what you needed.

Maybe it wouldn’t last. Maybe the two of you would go down in flames, too. Maybe he’s only being this amazing because he’s wanted you this long and he wants to show you what you’ve missed the time you wasted with Rafael, and it’ll fade once you’ve stuck around.

But you don’t think so, because you know he’s always loved you like this. The only things that have changed since you let him in is that he fucks you now and he’s practically moved into your apartment. He’s never quite kept his crush for you under wraps. On the off chance this is just a honeymoon phase... you’d still take it. It was bliss for now, and that’s what mattered.

“You ready for round three, doll?” Sonny asks. “Or you wanna sit there and daydream about Barba?”

“W-what?” you stutter, looking at him dumbfounded. “I wasn’t—“

“Don’t play dumb. I know you, (y/n).”

“Are you mad?” You ask, making your voice small.

“No. It’s only natural, right? I probably shouldn’t have brought him up in the first place,” he says, shrugging. “Still...”

“Don’t, Sonny,” you protest. “You’re not his understudy. I love you—“

“I know. That’s not why I’m saying that,” he says, kissing you gently. ——

Sonny would never tell you why he was saying that; why he brought up Barba in the first place. This was a fucked up mess, Sonny knows that, but he can’t help imagining you fucking him like Rafael used to fuck you. You and Rafael both have such dominant personalities, and it makes sense why you’d always be at each other’s throats in hindsight.

One of you had to be more dominant, though, and Sonny gets the sense that more often than not Rafael won your battles. But Sonny won’t even put up a fight against you, and for a woman who was so used to losing... maybe Sonny was doing you more of a favor than he realized. You’re an absolute tease, brutal, really... Sonny doesn’t know where you get the sadism because you’re so kind-hearted outside of the bedroom... but he’s never quite had orgasms like the ones you draw out of him either, so he’s not exactly complaining.

Okay, maybe he whines a little when you don’t let him come.

Or a lot. Whatever.

It’s so worth it, for both of you, even if Sonny can barely take the heat sometimes.

Sonny imagines Rafael doing that to you, too, getting you riled up and soaking wet just to say you can’t come until he said. Or teasing you while you were working (he’d seen that happen a couple of times) just to leave the precinct and leave you rubbing your thighs together in a vain attempt to relieve the ache between them.

Sonny could just never do that to you, lord knows. For one, he can’t stand to see you ache for him while he’s right there, while he can just give you what you need from him. For him he takes pride in the number of orgasms he can draw from you, not how explosive or mind-numbing they can be (although he likes to think he gives both in quantity and quality). Sex is all about giving to Sonny. It always has been. Besides, seeing you fall apart on his tongue? It drives him insane. Maybe most men don’t get as enthusiastic about going down on their girlfriends, but Sonny truly doesn’t think he could ever live without it.

Still... didn’t you take a little bit of your partner with you, even if it was over? In a way, Sonny realizes, he does have both you and Rafael now. Just like he always wanted. Because when you maneuver him where you want him, get bossy in bed, that’s Barba talking. When you drag his bottom lip between your teeth, fiery lust in your eyes, he can just imagine Rafael doing the same to you, you looking up at him with hooded eyes.

His favorite’s got to be when you speak to him in Spanish, whisper “te amo” to him under your breath, because that’s purely Rafael’s influence and nothing else.

Still, you’re mostly you- and that’s fine. Sonny always loved you more, anyway, he’s always been closer to you, always been head over heels for you the second he stepped foot in the precinct and Liv told him you were his new partner.

Sonny didn’t see a point in hiding your relationship from the squad. You were wary at first - everyone knew you just broke up with Barba, and making this public so soon would be a source of gossip. But he convinced you... through questionable means (make a girl come enough times and she’ll do anything you ask). At the end of the day, he doesn’t think anyone truly cared, even if Amanda made a comment; “Guess she’s a hot commodity around here. When’s my turn to date her?”

“I’m never letting her go now that I’ve got her,” Sonny had replied with a grin. “You missed your shot.”

“I was kidding,” she chuckled. “Good for you, though. You’ve been in love with her for a long time, puppy dog eyes and everything.”

Sonny just beamed back at her, but he wonders how obvious he truly was in his affection for you before the two of you started going out. Was it enough to make Barba jealous? Possibly. Maybe that’s why Barba was being so absolutely vile and hostile toward Sonny now, refusing to let him sit in on his closing argument rehearsals and making sure to send more snide remarks his way whenever possible. Sure, Sonny expected that, but if only Rafael knew Sonny loved him too.... Maybe the wound wouldn’t sting as badly as it did. There wasn’t a chance in hell Sonny would say anything now, especially with the way he talked to you the other day (you’d think a lawyer who handles mostly sex crimes would refrain from slut-shaming his ex-girlfriend, but, apparently his anger truly did get the best of him). Still, he’d always love Rafael just like you always would.

Sonny knew there was always a chance that he was just a rebound, that you’d leave him to go back to Rafael, but time goes on and you stay with him and Rafael stays bitter, barely looking at the two of you. Years pass and Sonny tries to extend an olive branch every couple of months, but Rafael would rather eat poison, it seems.

Fair enough. You couldn't say Sonny never tried. ----

Rafael spent a few years feeling like an exile every time he stepped foot into the precinct - and it wasn’t fair in the least. He was A.D.A. before you even got your badge. If anything, you should be feeling like the odd one out now that the two of you were over. This was his city.

But you’re not his homeland anymore. You haven’t been, not for a long time.

It was a new kind of torture every day, watching you and Sonny get closer, closer, closer… Rafael kept searching for reasons to leave New York City that wouldn’t have to do with you.

And then he found one.

Rafael’s standing outside the courthouse, where he just got acquitted for infanticide. It’s bitterly cold, he’s wearing his tan coat that you’d rarely see him out of this time of year. And you come up to talk to him.

It was rare that you did that, anyway, you did your best job to ignore him unless you absolutely needed to speak with him. But now he gets the feeling it’s time for confessions, words you always wanted to say to him all these years now that he was leaving out the side door of your life for good.

It’s a strange kind of sickness, watching you move on more and more, seeing your stomach swollen with Sonny’s child, your finger gleaming with Sonny’s ring, your last name changing to Carisi.

“You’re really leaving?” you ask, pulling your coat across your belly - it wouldn’t stay closed with the buttons anymore. You shiver, sip at your coffee.

“I can’t exactly stay now, can I?” he asks brusquely. “You really shouldn’t be drinking coffee while you’re pregnant.”

You snicker. “It’s not your baby, is it, Barba? Good thing, too. Wouldn’t want her to come out wrong. You might kill her.”

“Oh, fuck off. I don’t need this to be rehashed,” he snaps harshly, bitter tears leaving his eyes. “Did you have anything else to say?”

“It’s decaf coffee, anyway,” you mutter. “I really thought you’d have left a long time ago.”

“Why, because of you?” he asks, laughing bitterly. “Are you really that arrogant?”

“You still look at me like you want to kill me half the time.”

“Just… I still don’t understand what went wrong.”

“If you don’t know by now… I really don’t know what to tell you, Rafael. I gave so many signs. And Sonny… he treats me well. He gives me things you were never ready for, and I… The way things happened… they truly were for the best.”

“For who?” Rafael asks, fighting against his body’s overwhelming desire to break down and sob. Hadn’t he learned by now, though, that there was no amount of crying he could do for you? Still, when you left him, everything went to hell. He tried to pour himself into his work, and this… watching you get and stay happy was salt in the wound.

“I think leaving will be good for you,” you say, ignoring him. “You can move on. Meet someone new. Get a new job. New start. You know?”

“I think I’m too old for new starts,” he scoffs, shaking his head.

“Won’t know unless you try, hm?” you ask, nudging him in the side. “You’ll make it. You always have.”

“Not with you,” he murmurs.

“No. But you didn’t need me. You don’t need anyone.”

“Is that what you tell yourself, to make yourself feel better for what you did to me?” Rafael asks, his voice breaking a little. He was always so desperate not to show vulnerability, especially not around you… but what did it matter now?

“Rafael… we always walked a very thin line. You have to know that we weren’t going to stay together even if we tried to. And why should I have to be miserable just because you are?”

He stays silent because you have a point and he’ll be damned if he lets you know that.

“Sonny loves you, you know,” you say abruptly, and Rafael quirks up an eyebrow. You laugh. “Yeah. He’s very testy about it, but I’ve been with him long enough. I know he does. You should’ve jumped on him before I had the chance. He would’ve taken you. He would’ve taken both of us, but… you and I couldn’t share.”

“You can have him,” Rafael says, rolling his eyes. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“It’s just… you didn’t have to spend all these years hating us, feeling like a foreigner in your own city. We would’ve taken you back. You just didn’t want us.”

“I didn’t want the Carisi package deal. I wanted you. I dated you, not him. I loved you, not him.”

“First of all… I meant as friends. But also… Like you’ve never thought about it,” you tease, grinning at him.

Rafael rolls his eyes. “See, this is why we had problems. That’s not funny. Wandering eyes… that’s a problem.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” you say, shrugging. “Sonny’s surprisingly liberal. But that’s great that you were finally able to admit that your jealousy made me feel like I couldn’t breathe.”

“I’d argue my jealousy was warranted. I find it hard to believe that you didn’t fuck Sonny before you broke up with me,” Rafael scoffs.

“I didn’t!” you protest. “I’m not having this argument with you, because at this point, it doesn’t matter if I did or not, but I was nothing but faithful to you, Rafael.”

“Then how could you just move so fast?"

“It’s not like I just picked him up off the street. We’d been friends before.”

“Right. Friends.”

“Yeah. Friends,” you repeat sarcastically. “You see why we didn’t work out now?”

“Guess so.”

“You know, I do wish the best for you. Honestly. You deserve better than the cards you got dealt here.”

“You can say that again,” Rafael sighs. “I did really love you, you know.”

“Yeah. Sometimes that’s not enough. I loved you too.”

He takes a deep breath. “I wish you the best too. You’ll be a good mother.”

“Thank you, Rafi,” you whisper back, leaning over to hug him softly. There it is again; that cold bitter ache - when’s the last time you referred to him by that nickname? And now it would be the last. “Goodbye and good luck.”

"Yeah, you too," he says, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly, remembering a time when touching you was second nature. He watches you, your eyes make contact with Sonny's, and you turn back one last time to give Rafael a sympathetic smile... and that's the last time he ever sees you.

Taglist (lmk if you wanna be added!): @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes @thatesqcrush @law-nerd105 @blackeyedangel9805 @moon-river-drifter @dianilaws @xecq @lv7867 @teddybluesclues @averyhotchner @houseofthirst @stardust-fray @lapaquerette @wanniiieeee​ @altsvu​

[insufferablelust]

Hey I absolutely love you’re writing, and I love your writing style. can I request a Spencer Reid x sub!reader fic where she is out with him and his friends for dinner and she keeps teasing him infront of them and then he gets frustrated and punishes her in the restroom ? Can you include degradation,(name calling and dirty talking), choking and exhibitionism.

hi love! thank you so much for req, sorry it took me such a long time to get to it, i was in a bad place for couple of days. And i changed the settings a bit to fit the pictures in my imagination i hope you don’t mind. thank you once again, enjoy! and for those who have been patient enough for me to write their reqs, dont worry it’s all coming soon! MASTERLIST HERE!

WARNINGS : Dom!Spencer x Sub!Reader, Smut obvi, Fingering, no penetrative sex, Degradation by name calling, Exhibitionism, Pretty intense breath play by choking, Spankings, brat tamer-esque!spencer, bratty!reader, umm fluff??? thats it i think

You must admit that teasing Spencer wasn’t really your intention tonight, you really tried your best to behave especially after being so reckless going after an unsub alone without waiting for back up, but you got lucky and the unsub was caught. Although, Spencer still can’t help but to be mad at you, you were careless and he didn’t like that.

The entire jet was silent, mostly asleep except for you and Spencer. Right after you caught the unsub, Spencer pulled you into a secluded area far from prying ears of their teammates and scolded her, “You could’ve gotten yourself killed, Y/N?”

Then and there you should’ve known not to get bratty, should’ve just apologized and said that you were trying to save the girl but your adrenaline rush got the best of you, and that led you to gave him two things he hates most, an eye roll and remark, “Oh! give me a damn break! i saved the girl, and caught the asshole too, you’re so insufferable.”

He was taken aback of course, even you were too. Your lips trembled as you thought back to his face, there was a slight pain that crossed his eyes, but mostly you knew that deep down he knows you didn’t mean that. But does he? because right after that you two separated your ways to the jet up until now.

“Spencer..” You whispered, he sat opposite of you besides Alvez and you beside JJ. He looked up momentarily from his book before shaking his head and hold up one finger, oh great your dominant boyfriend is seething and he’s giving you a time out.

You pouted as you sank deeper into the seat, before reaching to tangle his legs with yours as a sign that you’re sorry. To your delight, he hummed, leaned forward and pat your knee— it was his way of saying “yes i’m not mad but that doesn’t mean you are out of punishment.” Then you fall asleep after that, drifted off to the thought of what he’ll do to you later.

—————

Spencer groaned lowly as he heard the team are planning a celebratory dinner after they had done their paperwork, it’s not that he hated his teammates, they’re his family after all. But right now, all he wanted was to leave bruises on Y/N and to make sure she had learned her lesson, he was so frustrated that his palm was twitching at the thought of her being so reckless like that.

He was pulled out of his thought when she tapped his shoulder, innocently batting her eyelash and leaned on his desk “Are we going tonight?” She nervously asked, eyes won’t meeting his directly which he frowned at. Gripping her wrist, “Y/N, look at me.”

Y/N instantly turned her head to him, eyes looking directly into his, before apologizing “I’m sorry.. sir i’m really sorry..” She muttered, dropping her head in shame that brought extreme sadness to him, instantly pulling her into a hug and cradled her. “Shh, i know you wanted to save her but that was careless, can’t go running around and risk your life like that.” He wasn’t a fan of PDA but when he needs to show you what he meant, he’ll do it even if he has to show bits of their romantic life.

“I know, that’s why i’m sorry.” She pouted up at him, earning a soft smile and a kiss on the lips. “Lovebirds, you two coming?” You heard Rossi snickered beside you, as you blushed and looked up at your boyfriend for answer,

“Yeah, yeah we’re coming.”

Oh how wonderful, your bratty little mind thought.

——————

During the entire ride to the restaurant, you and Spencer engaged in small conversations mainly about how weird New York was when you seen it last, and pointing similarities about stuff. It was all fun and good until your hand started to creep up on his thigh, fingertips dancing against the fabric of his pants. He didn’t pay you any mind at first, no he thought you were just being touchy feely with him.

Oh but that changes quickly when your fingers ghosted over his clothed crotch, earning herself a warning from him, “Y/N.” Your eyes peered at his as you grinned, hands still running up and down his thigh sometimes getting closer to his crotch.

“Yes, Doctor?”

There it is, she has drank the poison and now she’ll deal with the consequences.

————

Throughout the dinner Y/N kept on continuing her devious acts, brushing his calf, running her fingertips directly on his crotch, moaning at the taste of the dessert, and even go as far as whispering stuff on his ear, stuff that made him itch to bend her over the table.

The first warning she received from him was a tap on her knees and a slide glance, then she shrugged and brushed it off. The second warning weren’t so kind, he had shoved her palms below her thighs and knead her thigh with his nails with a low drawl “Y/N..” She whimpered then and promised she won’t do it again, and he believed her, only because he knew they were getting suspicious.

Oh but the next time Y/N teased her boyfriend, was the last time she will ever sit nicely in awhile, Spencer saw red, tugging on her wrist as he bids farewell to their teammates, saying stuff like “We have an appointment tomorrow.” Not really caring on how they took it.

Y/N felt the insides of her belly swarmed with butterflies and intense warmth, as his bruising grip tighten around her wrist— making an indent on her skin. They stormed outside and went to their car while Spencer pushed her against it and wrap his hand around her throat, gripping ever so tightly— making sure his fingertips were on the very pulse.

“You’ve been testing me the whole day and night, you mindless little brat. I’ve had enough of your reckless behavior and attitude. If a punishment is what you want, then a punishment is what you’re going to get, but don’t fucking cry out when i make you writhe in pain.” He muses on her ear, whilst she nod desperately, trying to find enough oxygen, “P-please..” Her eyes watered as he pressed his knee right between her legs and then release her throat, watching her gasping for breath.

“Turn around.” He demanded, she instantly obliged not wanting to damage the situation anymore. Spencer pushed her against the car and one hand around her neck, the other slip his hand under her dress to squeeze her ass tightly, then leaned in to whisper “You look so pathetic you know that? we’re in a restaurant parking lot and yet you never told me to stop. Do you want me to punish you here? where everyone can see what a nasty mindless brats get when they act recklessly?”

All she can do is moan as she grind harder against his knee, whilst holding onto him with dear life. “Get in the back seat.” He ordered, taking a step back from her so she could get in and climb in after her.

“Over my lap.” He demanded, all Y/N could do now is to oblige everything he said, not more not less so she laid ass up over his lap and then brace herself as she felt the roughness of his palms against her ass— dress yanked up long ago.

“How many, princess?” He ask condescendingly, fingers gripping her hair tightly as she moaned out loud when his other hand graze against her covered cunt. “as many as you want, sir.” she choked out, which seemed to please him judging by how he hummed to the tone.

“We’ll do 20, with different intensity. What’s your safe word?” That warmed her heart, even if he’s mad, he never forgets how important communication, safety, and comfort is. “Lilac.”

“Good girl, shh i don’t wanna head anything coming out of that mouth unless its to count, safe word, or thank me. Understand?” It was a trick question, normally she would answered but then she remembered it’s not allowed so she looked back at him and nodded sweetly.

That seemed to both please him and make him the more eager, he delivered the first slap making her broken out a cry “O-One! Sir thank you!” He took a deep breath before slapping her covered ass once again earning more broken sobs and moans.

By the time they reached 15, her ass was so sore, yet the burn intensified everything, her soaked panty could agree. She was soaked through. “5 more, minx. Come on don’t be pathetic now.” His tone made her shivered, she sucked on his thumb preparing herself for the last five.

“Oh fuck! 20! thank you please no more...” Y/N cried out as she sob into the leather seat, her covered ass was burning, his handprint left her squirming on his grip as he soothe her, gently tugging her hair up, turn her around so her head is laid on his lap.

“Shh.. it’s over now, baby. You’re okay.” He rub her tummy as she evened out her breathing, eyes looking up at his, even through the darkness of the car he still looks dashing. “T-Thank you for teaching me a lesson.. i’m sorry i was a brat..” Her voice was barely above whisper which meant she was deep in her subspace, which made Spencer becomes more protective of her.

“It’s okay bunny. You did great, i’m not mad at you.” He whispered, his hands that were on her tummy trailed down slowly before slipping it inside her panties, he gently graze his fingertips on her labia, feeling it soaking with absolute need.

“Oh princess, look at you.. Soaked hm? you really love being taught a lesson didn’t you?” his fingers slowly rub circles on her clit, pressing on it with enough force that it made her shudder to no end, her moans were loud.

“Spencer.. please!”

“What do you want, baby?” Spencer chuckled, using his palm to rub her sensitive nub as his fingers brushes ever so slightly against her opening, smearing the sweet nectar all over her cunt.

“Fuck me, Dr.Reid..” She groaned, using the last bit of bratty-ness left in her, her hips bucking as he hold her neck with one hand and finger her cunt with the other.

“You never learn do you? you desperate needy little baby.” His mocking tone turned her on like nothing else, trails of ‘uh uh uh’s left her mouth and her hips keeps on grinding upwards, leaving Spencer no choice but to clamp his hand on her neck and muttered lowly, “You won’t get my cock tonight so don’t bother to ask. If you don’t behave, i won’t let you cum for weeks, i will edge you during those weeks, giving you ruined orgasms, and make your life a living hell. So if you still want that orgasm you crave, stop fucking squirming.” His words might as well make her orgasm, the way he commanded her, owned her— just the biggest turn on of her life.

When her eyes watered, he released her neck then continue to finger fuck her with force, so much force that she can’t help it but to scream. “Oh! S-Spencer! i’m going— may i cum sir?”

“Hold it.” He ordered sternly, his palm grazing against her clit, giving her the umpteenth intense pleasure of the night. She tried so hard not to cum, but the need still outweighs her desire to not disobey her boyfriend. “P-Please.. Cant.. cant oh god..”

“Now, cum now pet.. go on.” Her eyes snapped shut at his command making sure to moan out strings of ‘thank you sir! thank you’ when she came all over his fingers, practically soaking the expensive leather as well as her dress. He worked her through her high, before drawing his fingers out when she flinched due to sensitivity.

Y/N’s eyes opened slowly to find him smiling looking down at her which she returned. Spencer pressed his wet fingers on top of her lips, she greedily suck on it, making him groan. “Fuck love, do you know that you made me bust in my pants?”

You released his fingers, eyes widen “What? Really?”

“See it for yourself, you brat.” He scoffed, seeing her turned her head to looked at the mess on his crotch which made her sit up in excitement, and smiles. “But when?!”

“The moment you came, you look so gorgeous i cant help but to cum.” He whispered, his cheeks warm with a hint of flushness which made her giggle. “oh wow the effect i have on you...”

“Y/N i swear to god, i’ve had enough of your brattiness for one night.” Earning a laugh from her, he shakes his head, before cleaning them both with the tissues and sprayed the car with disinfectant which made Y/N laugh loudly,

“What a genius germphobe.” She teased, which made his head turned to her side and glared.

“Okay okay! i won’t tease...” She bit her tongue at the last part before muttering a seductive “Doctor...”

“That’s it! No cumming for a month.”

“No Spencer!”

“Nope.”

You really do love being a brat.

—————————

SORRY THIS SUCKED IM NOT FEELING WELL SHSKSK, anyways requests still open so send them away! thank you for supporting.

[alfredosauce50]

She’ll never know [Yandere! Iceland x reader]

Synopsis: Everybody’s pumped for the week-long skiing trip in Switzerland. While Emil and you are back to showcasing your weird relationship— “platonically” holding hands and sharing beds, Mathias never catches the drift like everyone else does and demands the same treatment from you. Emil eventually gives in to jealousy and denounces his friendship with you the first night in. He thought he was satisfied with these developments, all until he overhears a conversation between Mathias and Lukas two days later. Seems like he wasn’t the only one pining for you. His chance at revenge arrives when he finds the Dane unconscious in the snow after a freak accident. Wordcount: 4,288 The reader is referred to as she/her.

It was supposed to be a drama-free ski trip. 

You were tagging along for the first time, sitting with him on the plane and sharing a room at the resort. Getting a seat next to you was a wildcard, for sure. But the latter was a given, considering it was Tino who made the sleeping arrangements. Out of everyone in the group, or anyone for that matter, you had always been the closest to Emil—the Finnish man was well aware of that.

Even then, he planned on sticking to you like a tattoo. For seven straight days, being with him also meant you would be in the company of a loud-mouthed Dane. And sometimes, he could be all up in your business. But he was safe for now, so long as he didn’t try anything on the plane. 

The soft murmuring of passengers and white noise of the cabin filled his ears as he walked down one of the aisles. Once you found your seats, he didn’t waste time to buckle himself in and get comfortable, all so he could pull out his phone. The last time you were with him, you both watched Interstellar. Well, most of it. 

“Em, this flight is a little over an hour. Why not take a nap instead?” You suggested, but he never slowed his movements to open Netflix.

While the downloaded video loaded, he pulled off his sweatshirt to ruffle up his silvery-white hair. Under that was a black graphic T-shirt with a cat on it. “Mm... No. We have to finish it while it’s still fresh in our memory.”

“Okay, fine. I didn��t wanna watch it right now because I’ll cry again.”

“So? Nobody’s gonna see.” 

Nobody except him. But you never minded, as you were already leaning over to finish the movie with him. His taste in sad movies rubbed off on you, and you were quick to tears. That, he was very familiar with. But besides crying, you also had a habit of falling asleep in his bed after staying up to watch things or play games. So it wasn’t weird to know how often you slept with him. 

Eventually, a strange chemistry started to brew between you both. 

A physical and emotional closeness so intimate, it was comparable to that of a relationship. But Emil never thought of things like that. Best friends could do this stuff, couldn’t they? Holding hands and sharing clothes was the norm. 

Drinking from the same cup was just a regular Tuesday.  

“Gimme some of your apple juice.” You whispered, feeling a little dry in the mouth after tearing up. Reaching out for his cup to take a few gulps, he furrowed his brows and grumbled. He was left with nothing but backwash. 

“I was gonna drink that.”

A few mischievous laughs fell from your lips. “There’s still some left.” Picking the cup up, you swished around the remaining contents, which wasn’t much. 

“This should be more than enough for you, you dehydrated gremlin. I’d encourage you to have more, but we both know you’d only have a sip whether I drank from it or not."

A light blush dusted his cheeks and he frowned. “No I wouldn’t.”

“You would. That’s why I left you a sip.”

“... Shut up.”

The plane landed not long after, and your spunk died down near the conclusion of the film. Yes, it was sad. And yes, you cried. Like Emil expected, you were going to be silent for a while. When everyone regrouped to walk around the airport, you stayed by his side and held his hand. At the platforms to wait for the train, you and him were inseparable—head on his shoulder and all. But in your defence, you were tired. And this wasn’t the first time.

If anybody else did this to him, he would be shoving them off. They could hit their head for all he cared. And that was precisely why Tino and Lukas were giving him funny looks in the carriage. 

Laughing quietly to themselves with a hand covering their mouths, they watched on with a devilish expression. “Huhuhu,” was what Emil heard as he sat comfortably in his seat, but he knew what it translated to. Look at you, holding her hand while she’s asleep. He simply turned away with rosy cheeks. He didn’t know what they were on about. This wasn’t weird at all. 

Yes, he wasn’t exactly the most touchy-feely with people, but you weren’t just anybody. And he knew he liked you, a lot at that, but it was perfectly platonic. 

Nobody was convinced, however. All except for the Dane who practically came bounding over from a few rows down. But it was likely he never even got the gist.

The train finally reached a slower, constant speed, so he was prepared to join the group for some small talk. Leaning down on the backrest, he laid his eyes on you and Emil with a grin. “Well, well, well. Don’t you two look cozy.” He commented, his voice making the boy glance up. “Don’t get too comfortable, though. We’re going skiing today!”

“But hey—”Combing a hand through his wild and unruly locks of blonde, he smiled sheepishly. “Do you think I could sit with her on the way back?”

Just when he thought nothing could ruin this vacation, he was proven wrong. That was right. Mathias was the only other person present who actively showed you affection, and it always bothered him. God, the thought of you sitting with him for hours made him sick. 

“... Only if she wants to.” He mumbled, sinking lower into his seat to cause his hoodie to ride up. Since it was already on his head, it came drooping over his face to hide his dark purple eyes. There, he could read the other’s expression.

He could take a few things away from it. Right now, he was rubbing the nape of his neck while watching you snooze. Every time Mathias was expectant, he wouldn’t stop moving his hands. The sight made his frown deepen. When Lukas and Tino witnessed this, they looked away and shared the same thought. 

Just let him be, you idiot.

But Mathias didn’t quite get the memo, let alone read their minds.

So he stood up and responded with this. “Well, of course she’ll want to! Who wouldn’t sit next to me?” A brief silence fell around the group. Lukas coughed. Berwald continued to watch the mountainous landscape outside the window without a word, trailing his icy blue eyes over the snow that glowed purple at dawn. “Seriously, guys? This is why I like (F/N) the best. At least she’s nice to me.” 

Emil squeezed your hand as you slept. The tightness in his chest only seemed to worsen by the second. And it showed in his visible discomfort. Lowering his head, he let his fringe fall over his eyes.

“... She’s nice to everyone.” 

The blonde shrugged while closing his eyes in a look of satisfaction. 

“If you’re gonna be train buddies, then we can be skiing buddies. Right, (F/N)?” Reaching down to your head, he tipped it gently in a nod before saying this. “Of course, Mathias! You’re my favorite.” 

As if. 

“That was a terrible impression.” 

“What impression?” 

He huffed under his breath. They hadn’t even arrived at the resort, and he was already dreading the next seven days. This gut feeling turned out to be right, because it only seemed to get worse. 

***

Shortly after arriving, everyone dropped off their things before leaving to get right into the sport. After napping for nearly two hours, you were replenished with the energy to go skiing. Despite being quite the skilled skier himself, Mathias was kind enough to accompany you on the easier slopes. More accurately put, he was jumping at the opportunity to teach you. 

Hell, he’d been waiting outside your room to take you to the ski lifts. The moment you opened the door, you were greeted by the man all geared up, with goggles on and all. 

“Morning. You ready to roll? Or, slide?” He asked. 

Seeing him so eager was cute, so you were obliged to follow, leaving Emil alone in the room. When said boy left the bathroom after freshening up, he saw the door close behind you. “Sorry, Emil! I’m gonna go ahead! I’ll see you outside!” 

And just like that, you were gone. Dropping his face towel off on a chair, he dug his hands through his hair and breathed in deeply. Since when was the last time he felt this much anguish? Yes, he was rooming with you. But that was only at night. Daytime meant you would be with Mathias. He had no place complaining, considering he wasn’t the best at skiing. Nothing he could do about that. 

He changed out of his T-shirt and into his snow gear with a sigh. 

His excitement to go skiing was gone. 

And if he wasn’t going to ski, he’d be holed up in his room. His logic told him this was selfish, but he wanted you to stay with him more than anything. 

You returned late in the afternoon as the sun was going down, but he’d been staying inside ever since lunch. Perking up at the sound of the door creaking open, he forced his head down and popped his earphones in. After you set your things down and changed to more comfortable clothes, you walked over to the bed and found a bump under the blanket. Lifting it up by the hem, you found him curled up with his phone. 

His earphones fell out. “(F/N)?” 

“Who else would it be, dummy? I was wondering where you went.” You kicked off your slippers and slid right in. He didn’t know how much he’d been longing for this until now—the feeling of you laying next to him in bed. But he couldn’t get carried away yet. It wasn’t even night yet.

A displeased expression contorted at your features, but it melted away as you pulled his phone away. 

“H-Hey!” He tried reaching out for it, but it was already on the bedside table. 

“No more screen time for you.” You tapped him on the nose. “How else am I gonna get your lazy ass out of bed?” He knitted his brows together and rolled into you to hide his face. Then, he curled two arms around you, albeit slowly.

“To do what?”

“To ski, duh.” 

He squeezed you. “But I don’t want to.” Emil’s wintry white locks were soft against your chest, and you felt his body heat waft over to yours. It was a sure fire sign he’d been under the covers for too long. That was when an idea struck him. This would definitely get you to stay with him for the rest of the day, and maybe tomorrow if he was lucky. “I... feel kinda sick.” 

Your smile fell and you immediately reached out to cup his cheeks, then clamp a hand over his forehead. When he felt your touch as you checked his temperature, his heart rate escalated. He was on cloud nine. 

“... Oh no... You’re a bit warm. I think it’s best that you stay in bed. But don’t use too many blankets, or your fever will get worse.”

The sensation of your hands on him was to die for, and the thought that you were worried about him made it better. Nobody would have expected this trait from the usually detached boy, but he was secretly clingy. And he had the most subtle ways of showing it. An example would be lying about feeling unwell, but he didn’t feel bad about it at all. 

A headache was pounding in his skull, and it wasn’t wrong to say he was upset. And plus, if this worked, you could stay with him. He could practically feel a smile creeping to his lips at the thought, but he hid half of his face with the blanket. “... Are you gonna ski tomorrow?” He asked quietly. 

You craned your head to the side in thought. 

“Only if you can. Who’s gonna look after you when I’m gone?”

Blood rushed up to his face and he nodded. “Okay.” 

Reaching out to his cheek again, you groaned. “Oh my god. Why are you so hot? Hold on. I’m gonna find you an ice pack.” You slid off the bed, but not before giving him an affectionate pinch. He made a soft noise in protest. “I think this is a sign for you to fix your sleep schedule and stop eating instant.” 

Before you left, he reached out to grab your wrist. 

“What is it?”

He released you after a few moments. “... Nothing...” 

You smiled weirdly. “Okay, hun. Give me a ring if you need anything.” 

A couple hours later, the group gathered for dinner in a nearby restaurant. Despite the freezing temperatures that dropped significantly at night, Mathias insisted to sit outside at the balcony to enjoy the views. The views in question weren’t even that visible with how dark out it was. There was nothing but faint outlines of mountains stretching on for miles into the horizon. 

Much to Emil’s displeasure, you insisted that he sit opposite you. Understandable, because it was closer to the indoors where the warm air was wafting out of. But that only meant you’d sit next to the Dane, and he was quick to notice you shivering lightly in the cold. 

Like him, you had a sweater on, but he was the human heater, not you. Curling an arm around your shoulders with a softened gaze, he rubbed your arm up and down. Almost like how a boyfriend would to their girlfriend. 

And Emil witnessed it all happen. 

“You’re shaking like a leaf, min elskede. Do you want my sweater as well?” He laughed, to where you shook your head profusely. 

Did he just call you ‘my love’ in Danish? Since when did he start calling you that? And he was offering his clothes to you as well? He thought only he did that. Gripping the hem of his hoodie with clammy hands, he lowered his head as his heart started to sting. Fuck. He hated this feeling. 

But what he saw next made it unfathomable. 

“No, of course not! I can deal with this. You’d be crazy to take it off—" He lifted his sweater up and threw it over his head, the action making his t-shirt ride up. “—and, you’re taking it off.” He fixed his top before sliding the knit over you. Pulling it down so you could fit your arms through the arm holes, you were overwhelmed with his smell, and not to mention, completely encased with warmth. 

He was now left in nothing but a T-shirt.

“That better?” Mathias grinned.

“Yes, you idiot. But if you catch a cold because of me, you won’t be the only sick one in the group.” You grumbled under a blush, a little embarrassed he actually gave you his sweater. “Thank you, though.”

His stomach churned. His breathing deepened. Unbeknownst to you, or anyone for that matter, he started to spiral down a path of self-destructive thoughts. Did he always like you that much? He lifted his gaze to you, and found you carrying on with your usual banter with the Dane. Did you always like him that much? You laughed. Emil bit his lip. It always made him euphoric to hear you laugh, but knowing it wasn’t him that was responsible for it made him feel an unpleasant mix of all kinds of things. Sadness, anger, and a violent kind of jealousy.

So shortly after finishing his food, he stood up and left without a word. That silenced the chatter at the table, and everyone called out to him. But he was too quick on his feet.

You’d never seen him do something like that. Either he was nauseous, or something was really wrong. “He’d got a fever, so maybe he’s going to... You know. I’ll check on him.” With that said, you stood up and took Mathias’s sweater off. “Here. Just in case I don’t come back.”

Jogging up to your room, you were relieved to see that your instincts were right on the mark. Emil had retreated back here, and was currently hiding under the covers. Nearing his side, you lowered yourself to your knees. "Em? Are you okay? Did you puke?”

“... No.” His voice was thick and nasally.

And that pointed to one thing.

The poor boy was crying.

Breathing out a soft sigh, you removed all your layers until you were in your undergarments. Lifting up the corner of the blanket, you joined him before wrapping your arms around his form. “I know you don’t like talking about yourself, but I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wrong.” You murmured, rubbing soothing circles into his back. “You can tell me anything. I won’t be weirded out or judge you. I’m just worried about you, okay?”

He popped his head out from under the blanket to reveal his flushed face stained with tears.

“... Anything?”

You hummed. “Mmhm. Anything.”

Emil paused for a moment. Frankly, he had no idea why he was feeling like this. Perhaps he did, he just didn’t want to say it. That maybe, everyone was right about him. That what he felt about you was anything but innocent. The signs were all there. He’d never been this attached to anyone, ever, and even if he was, he would’ve hid it to some degree. But not with you. He’d been all over you since the start of the trip, and even now, he had his arms looped around your neck. And when other people decided to do the same to you, he was choked with turbulent emotions.

It even got to the point of intrusive thoughts. Back at the dinner table, all he could think about aside from worrying about this relationship was this—something terrible happening to Mathias. He didn’t want him to be there. He just wished he’d disappear, even for a little while.

When he realized these desires, he knew he couldn’t tell you. But there was still something he wanted. “... I’m fine now. But I just wanted to ask you something.”

You frowned. “Doesn’t look like you’re fine. You can’t keep brushing it off and expect me to let it go.”

“You’re right. But I promise I’ll feel better after this.”

“... Alright. But the next time this happens, I’m not letting you off the hook.” You murmured, reaching out to give his cheek a pat. “What did you wanna ask me?”

He flickered his eyes down to your lips. Then, he returned his gaze, but his stare felt a little hot on you for some reason. It never crossed your mind that he was hugging you around your neck, but it did now. “Would you ever...” Emil blushed darkly. “... Kiss me?”

You blinked at the unexpected question, but reacted nevertheless. The red flushing his cheeks spread to yours as you strung together the words to respond. “Well... I’m not disgusted or anything. We’re really close, so I wouldn’t mind kissing you.” You answered honestly, but that didn’t change the fact that you were curious why he even asked such a thing. “... Why?”

“I just wanted to know.” Emil mumbled. “Would you kiss anyone else?”

“No. That would be weird, wouldn’t it?”

His heart started to pound in euphoria. But the longer he lingered on what you said, his heart began to pound with another emotion.

“If you’d kiss me, then would you kiss me now?”

You had a feeling things would pan out this way. But you didn’t mind it in the least, in fact, you kind of wanted to do this. Leaning in to him, you heard his breath hitch from the close proximity. “... Maybe. But only a short one, because you’re sick.” Pressing your lips to his for short and sweet peck, he squeezed his arms around you and pulled you in again. Attaching his mouth to yours for a deeper kiss, he caught you off guard by the sudden build-up in intensity.

His coils around your neck tightened, and for the next few minutes or so, he kept kissing you. He just couldn’t stop moving his mouth with yours, nibbling on your lips ever so often. It felt too good. He never thought he’d ever be able to do this, but he was never going back now.

Everything he’d ever done with you now felt like child’s play. How could he have resisted these feelings for so long? Rolling you onto your back, he loomed over you and continued to make out with you on the bed. The connection between your mouths was starting to feel hot. The taste of yours only grew more prominent, and that was how he knew he was denouncing everything he used to have with you. He couldn’t take it, being friends with you. Emil had always been clingy. Jealous. And he was facing the truth—the reason.

He liked you. In every way you could like someone. But that wasn’t all. He was obsessed with you.

That night, you fell asleep on his chest.

To say he was satisfied with these developments was an understatement. He always thought of himself as your best friend, nothing more, nothing less. But he was relieved he finally accepted he really felt about you. So there was no need to pretend to be sick anymore.

He felt like skiing again, especially when you had another reason to be with him instead of Mathias.

The next day was a blast.

He finally got to try the intermediate slope thanks to your encouragement, and he could officially say he wasn’t terrible at skiing. And he continued to explore the harder slopes the day after as well.

Sometime in the afternoon, he returned back to the resort for a hot drink break. Taking a seat in the dining hall, he overheard two familiar voices. He swallowed down what he had in his mouth before listening in to their conversation. Hm. Was that... Mathias? And Lukas? Those two have always been pretty close, so he could already guess that their conversation would include pretty confidential contents. But it wasn’t his fault they held it in his earshot, right?

“Hey, so I’ve been thinking. I really like... You know. And I wanted to ask her out.”

“You mean (F/N)? Good luck trying to separate her from Emil. If they somehow don’t already like each other, then maybe you’ll have a chance.”

“Nah, it’s worth a shot! He isn’t the type to be in a relationship, anyway.”

Emil froze.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

The memories of that conversation replayed in his head like a broken record. Even while he was enjoying the cold night air as he skied later that day, he couldn’t stop lingering on it. Fuelling the anger he felt a few days ago. So that was why he gave you his sweater. Gliding through the soft blankets of snow, he never slowed down. Nobody knew you were dating him yet, but that only reinforced the fact that this relationship was new. Nothing was set in stone yet. And that only meant things could change, wouldn’t it?

His chest tightened and he slowed to a stop. He couldn’t let that happen, no matter what.

As if the world wanted to test that statement, his attention was stolen by a gap in the snow fencing. It looked as if something shot through it, or more accurately put, crashed into it and broke it. Sliding himself closer to take a better look, he was shocked to find a body outside the barriers. A skier. He must’ve swerved too hard and passed out from possible head trauma.

But Emil soon discovered it wasn’t just any random ‘he’. The clothes and gear were all too familiar. Could it be? His blonde hair gave it all away. This skier wasn’t a stranger. It was Mathias.

He was laying on his side with half his head submerged in white.

Upon realizing their identity, the fear-induced urgency to call for help suddenly subsided. Instead, he turned around, and skied away, slowly, back to the resort. What was he doing? Was he seriously going to leave him out in the snow where he could easily die? Emil couldn’t stop himself from moving. Was he seriously that upset? It was clear. He was.

But he knew he didn’t want him to die.

Even then, he couldn’t bring himself to tell anyone, not until an hour later, at least.

He didn’t know what was going through his head. But he knew what he felt. He wanted him to get sick at least. That would incapacitate him for a while, but not forever.

Sure enough, when the search and rescue found him, he was down with a bad case of hypothermia. He was immediately tended to by medical professionals, and it was revealed that he wouldn’t have made it if Emil never brought up the matter that Mathias had been missing. The color drained from his face when he heard that, and he never felt this guilty in his life. But it was short-lived. After all, he was still alive, wasn’t he?

He secured you in his arms as you cried softly into his chest. Nobody had to know about this. Especially not you, who warbled out how thankful you were that he remembered Mathias’s disappearance.

As he kissed your tears away, the only thought that repeated in his head was this.

She’ll never know.

[dreamties]

Slashers W/ a S/O Whos Afraid of the Dark

A/n - I have BIG IRRATTIONAL FEARS and I just WANT TO BE HELD. So, I’m writing this. Hope y’all enjoy.

...and sorry for everyone new to my blog, and for how unneeded-ly long some of these are.  

I may add Daniel, Helen, or Brahms if y’all want them- just let me know if you do..

Characters: Billy/Stu, The Lost Boys, Amanda Young, Michael Myers

Billy Loomis + Stu Macher

a majority of your time spent with them is during school, or cuddled up together watching horror movies

which- as freaked out as you get about the dark- you’re a big horror fan, too. 

it just...doesn’t appear to help your nerves. at all.

and you kind of hide it from your boys at first? cause your a teen/young adult, you shouldn’t be afraid of the dark. of all things.

how they found out: they had been watching a movie, and you fell asleep. they didn’t want to wake you, you looked to sweet laying there- so they left you there. they would’ve totally stayed and snuggled with you, but they had some things to attend to.

but that leads to you, startling awake, finding yourself alone, in a pitch black room.

the boys come back to you, seeing you all shaky, a blanket and your arms wrapped around your body.

they both get kinda worried, cause they haven’t seen this side of you before. they eventually get an answer out of you.

they might tease you a bit- but after seeing how upset and genuinely freaked out you were? definitely not doing that again.

Billy doesn’t totally get your fear, he thinks it’s silly...but he loves the whole aspect of being wanted, and how only he(and Stu) can fill those needs

so he’s wrapping an arm around you anyways, and kissing the top of your head, being all sweet to you.

honestly though- they’re both very touchy-feely boys?? so like,, just the best for feeling physically protected and calming you down. 

cuddles, kisses, they’ll even leave little lights on in the house, just so it’s not too dark.

and if you’re walking outside at night with them, Billy will definitely have a protective arm around you(I mean, he does this anyways, but he’s like extra protective/possessive. if that’s even possible). 

Stu will allow you to hold his hand. don’t even bother fighting me on this. you know he would.

Billy would too though- albeit begrudgingly, eyes rolling and everything

he secretly really loves holding you’re hand though

The Lost Boys

for literal creatures of the night, this has gotta be tough

and they pretty much live in a (fancy) cave!!

however, most of the time that you’re in the cave, it’s light out(thus sleeping), or you’re with your boys. so it’s OKAY.

when you meet- it’s obviously at night, but you’re at the boardwalk, surrounded by bright, colorful lights from all directions.

and after several meetings- they finally convince you to take you home, cause they feel pretty familiarized and close with you now.

it starts with the ride back- shaky all over, but it’s hidden by the trembles and roars of the motorcycle. and you’ve got your arms  tight around David, and your eyes squeezed tight

And when you stop, you think ‘finally, we’re here.’ but when you look up, your stomach sinks at the sight. Staring back at you is an opening to a cave- a pool of darkness. certainly not what you expected. 

okay- OKAY. you’ll give it a try. you have four incredibly strong supernatural creatures with you, if anything happens, they’ll protect you. that’s what you tell yourself heading down- shrieking as something pops out of nowhere.

at first, they’re worried- and you notice that, confessing to them that you may have the teeniest, tiniest, fear of the dark.

they will tease you about it. some more so than others. that’s just them, though- they joke and mess around with each other all the time. and that extends to you...since you are, you know, part of the group now.

 all of the boys are very capable of being soft, but Marko gives the most soft(tm) vibes out of the four- so he would tease you the least.

David, as the ‘leader’ of the group, it’s sort of his job to keep everyone safe. like- everyone is fully capable of protecting themselves(yes, even you), but he helps keep things somewhat orderly. in line? enough so, to keep everyone safe and happy. 

what i’m getting at- is that David will tease you about it, but he doesn’t want you to have that “looking around every corner” feeling, so he only does it sometimes.

the other two are sort of in the middle with it. Dwayne does tease you more than Paul though. 

okay, ee-nuff with the teasing. more of a general fluff- but borrowing their jackets? so when you’re at home, away from them, it’s a constant reminder that you’re okay, and you’re safe.

they wouldn’t be able to “leave a light on”, cause they’re definitely not using electricity, and it’s definitely not a good idea to leave the light source unattended as they sleep because fucking fires are a thing

...cuddle piles will have to do.

your irrational fears of the dark get better once you’ve been turned, and are living in the cave with them!!

Amanda Young

most of her ‘job’ is at night, and you like waiting for her to return sometimes

and she gets back from her job, seeing you passed out on the couch, all the lights on in the house

gets this happy, fluttering feeling in her chest- cause she’s so happy that you were thinking of her.

but immediately gets worried- like, “babe- you need to wake up.” but really gentle, and helps you off to bed. the couch is uncomfortable, you’re going to hurt your neck like that, etc. she just wants you to feel good.

she keeps the light on in the bedroom as she cleans up a bit from work. as soon as she’s done? endless cuddles for you.

many nights: she will also talk to you, to distract you- lulling you into a sense of security as you listen to her sweet voice, chipping in with a few of your own thoughts every once in a while.

of course she knows what you’re scared of- you told her. 

but that will not stop her from reminding you the day after about how much your sleep and comfort- and your wellbeing- matters to her. and that you need to start sleeping in the bedroom. even if it means keeping the hallway light on.

she’ll understand. well, not exactly. but she understands having just one small comforting thing to yourself.

Michael Myers

I feel like Michael just really has such a subtle way of showing love and affection- 

and I feel like one of his biggest ways of showing that would be through protecting you!

because that feels so easy for him! he can just go stab stab, and poof, the problem is gone.

but then- you’re terrified when the lights go out, and you get kind of paranoid, and he doesn’t know what to do at first.

for the longest time, the best thing he could do- was just stay close to you.

y’all are already dating, so like you share a bed, right?? 

and he notices you staying up kinda late, cause you don’t want to lay in the darkness,, 

so he coaxes you back to the bed, and he’ll leave the light on- and he just sits near you. turning the light back off once you start falling asleep- and he finally heads to bed. 

kinda creepy at first ngl- but it’s his way of saying “I’m here for you” and it works.

later in your relationship- he may initiate cuddles to help calm you down.

[boop-le-snoot]

skin starving

tony stark x f!reader fluff. no warnings, just a few f-bombs. touch starved tony’s third person pov. words: 2,5k. no beta because i just really needed to get this off my chest.

recommended music to go with the story: two feet - 'love is a bitch' & 'quick musical doodles'. Or any lo-fi hip-hop radio really.

It started as an itch. At first, a small but bothersome thing, that kept him up at night, steering the already unreasonable hours of wakefulness into dangerous territory. The cold of his bed was unappealing and more often than not, he’d started passing out on the flat surfaces nearest to him: workshop, lab, common room couch, the lazy boy in Bruce’s apartment.

The team noticed, of course, they weren’t blind. They all had been on edge the first few months after Pepper left him. They expected him to act out, lock himself up in his lab or go back to his old habits of boozing and bringing home a different girl every night. And he had tried that, once or twice, but airheaded twenty-somethings weren’t appealing anymore. Most of the time their ass kissing and blatantly flattery annoyed him further into self-loathing abyss. He simply couldn’t step up to be the kind of man they described him to be - it seemed as if every woman on planet Earth had a whole list of expectations he specifically could not meet.

With Thor off planet, not one remaining person on the team was particularly touchy-feely. And that was the thing with Tony Stark: as an engineer, as a mechanic, he made his way through the world hands-first, every approach he had was hands-on. During late nights and early mornings, he laid in bed, sleepless and dreamless, desperately refusing to admit his own touch starvation.

Whenever Rogers threw an arm around his shoulders during a particularly successful team bonding activity, it took every ounce of willpower Tony had to not lean into it and purr like a cat. He hadn’t truly forgiven Steve for his cold, cruel words of criticism shortly after Pepper’s departing. He wasn’t going to chummy up to a man who thought him selfish, opportunistic and self-absorbed.

Tony became irritable and withdrawn. He simultaneously craved and avoided even the casual, friendlier attention his teammates gave him on a daily basis. His usual snark became that much more biting, having caused several people to storm out of team meetings.

On a cold autumn morning, Tony had found his way at the tower’s Starbucks on the employee floor. He had squeezed a generous five hours of restless sleep and he was sick of the plain black coffee in his kitchen. A spontaneous desire for something sweet and creamy and caffeinated led him to the place in line at the cafeteria, only a few early birds ahead of him.

Tony’s brain was hazy as it had been past few weeks, dull from the lack of rest and the hyperfixation of his own skin feeling alien to him. For once, he wasn’t typing away on his StarkPhone as he usually did to avoid being bothered; Tony stared straight ahead, unseeing, nothing but white noise in his usually racing brain.

Two women stood in front of him and he couldn’t help but overhear a part of their conversation.

“… Are you really horny or just lonely or touch-starved, though? I mean, Tinder? It’s not really your style.”

“Eh, I dunno. Probably the second but it’s not like men go on Tinder to find a cuddle buddy.”

“Well, maybe? I’ve heard about arrangements like that.”

“No offense, babe, but it’s probably kids in their early twenties. Those gen-z’s, babe, are weird. I’m not really up to date on all of that.”

The topic of the conversation was what piqued Tony’s interest; the world liked rubbing salt into his wounds and hysterically laugh at his misfortune. Bleary-eyed, he briefly scanned the two women: both appeared to be interns or junior techs in his company, evident by the purple employee badges hanging from their bags.

“So what are you going to do?” One woman asked the other as their turn to order took Tony one step closer to obtaining his desired caffeine.

“Unless someone normal magically appears with an offer of no-strings-attached, good ole’ snuggle fest, I guess I’m getting dicked down on Saturday,” The other replied with a teasing tone. The lack of excitement in the last part of the sentence was obvious.

“Gross,” The first one shook her head and hurriedly rattled off her order to the barista who looked about as disgruntled as Tony felt.

Hours and three coffees later, Tony’s overactive brain was still stuck on that woman from the cafeteria. Her back, her purse stuffed full of colorful manila folders, her neatly gathered hair - Tony Stark had nearly perfect memory and he remembered every single detail despite his brain fog. Objectively, she was attractive, no more no less than a different dozen of women he’d seen at any point in his life before. So why was he hung up on her?

It didn’t take him a long time to find her file, faster than he’d liked to admit. Manually sorting through hundreds of interns, lab technicians and various second-tier employees wasn’t exactly considered productive but with Pepper and her nagging out of the picture, Tony could afford to slack off a little bit.

So he found her name and her e-mail address, skimmed over her performance report with satisfaction, finding her to be a busy bee in the 90-th percentile. Her superiors considered her trustworthy, hard-working and communicative, all good traits.

Pepper’s absence meant he’d have no one to cover his ass should he get slapped with a harassment suit; however, he was the Tony Stark after all. He had more money that he’d cared to count and an army of lawyers at his disposal 24/7.

Amidst the jumbled mess of wires, circuit boards, tablets, empty coffee cups and the occasional piece of paper, Tony typed up an e-mail to the woman sharing his… Condition.

“I heard you and your friend talking at Starbucks. I could use a cuddle buddy. Wine and Netflix at my place? What’s your takeout preference?”

No. That came off way too creepy, like he was some kind of a dirty eavesdropper.

He contemplated some more, typing up and erasing multiple e-mails with various proposals: his penthouse, her place, a three Michelin star restaurant, a walk in the park. Almost all of it screamed ‘date’, like he’d drag her off to bed the very moment an opportunity wouldn’t present itself. It wasn’t so: Tony Stark, the playboy genius, had his dick firmly tucked into his pants. The thought of fucking her crossed his mind only briefly, quickly being chased away by the thought of her fingers running through his hair. Her warm, soft body in his arms. Just laying on his couch, eyes closed, reveling in each other’s arms.

Tony hit send on the least obnoxious option. He baited his breath, clicking his fingers in anticipation as the message showed itself to having been delivered.

“Mary, is this you trying to be funny? Stark is going to fire you if he finds out you’re impersonating him to stop your friend from going on a questionable date. Grow up.” Came the very prompt reply, ending with a short string of angry emojis. Tony could totally trust a person who used emojis unironically and generously.

“For the record, I wouldn’t be mad if somebody pretended to be me for the sake of saving their cute friend from a creep. The problem would be making it look credible.” Tony typed up the answer without thinking, quickly snapping a picture of himself holding the Starbucks cup with his name written on it, throwing his usual sloppy peace sign. He attached it to the email and hit send.

“WTF” Came the reply not a minute afterwards. He let it sink in, giving the woman some time to gather her wits. She did not disappoint. “Okay, even if we pretend this is real - which I doubt - what’s in it for you? If you heard our conversation, you surely know my stance on the matter.”

“I’m always glad to prove you wrong. I’m a genius - comes with the territory.” Tony simply couldn’t resist adding a generous dose of snark. “You’re welcome to meet me after clocking out. Use the private elevator, my AI will beam you up.”

The reply took a considerably long amount of time, seeing as previously, she typed back rather quickly. “Please don’t be a creepy rapist, Scotty. Fingers crossed.” Tony managed to almost break his stylus twice. His hands shook, and he had to tell himself to breathe - still, he laughed at the clever way she replied.

Several more hours later, during which Tony had nearly paced a hole through various floors on the residential side of the tower, he took a quick shower, dressed in a flattering but comfortable designer sweatpants and polo combo and made himself at home on the obscenely large living room sofa on his own, private penthouse floor.

He was up and running towards the elevator when Friday���s voice notified him of the woman entering the elevator on the employee floor. Tony tousled his hair, adjusted his glasses, fiddled with the drawstring of his pants.

The woman was wearing casual office wear, pants and a loose blouse, a lab coat loosely draped over her arm and her purse hanging off the shoulder on a thin strap. Her hair was loose now, a little frizzy as if she continuously ran her hands through it. Tony quietly rejoiced at not being the only nervous one.

Clever eyes scanned the room with unhurried interest before finally landing on him. “Not too shabby, if I say so myself,” The corners of her mouth tilted in an attempt at a smile, it was obvious she was studying him.

“Thanks, I try my best,” Tony smirked. Humble he was not. “So, how do you want to do this?”

“I see a comfortable couch,” She looked to be grateful for being given the opportunity to lead this interaction. “Let’s park our behinds on it, bicker for ten minutes about a movie choice and settle on one none of us really like. Then we can tell each other our no-no zones and, well, yeah,” She started out confidently. Probably practiced in the elevator. But towards the end, her shyness took over.

For Tony, it was kind of cute. A nice change from suck-ups that flocked him at every social gathering in hopes of getting something out of him. The woman that had tossed her bag carelessly on the far end of the couch and untucked her blouse looked and felt like the exact opposite of those people. She looked willing to give.

Tony sat next to her, keeping a couple of inches of free space between them. “Food preferences? Food allergies?” He asked, tapping the food delivery application.

“Nope, and I will eat just about anything.” He felt more than saw her side-eyeing him. Both of them were jittery. So uncharacteristic for Tony, to be blushing and stammering like a high school boy. Sex was easy, but intimacy? Complex. It was addictive and eventually, painful.

Movie decisions were surprisingly easy and she said so. They settled on a Tarantino classic, an old flick neither of them had watched in a long time. As the discussion progressed, Tony used his wits to find out more about her without making it seem like an interrogation. He had run a background check on the woman and her family but those only went that far, besides, it was a great opportunity to practice the tips Natasha had shared with him at one point or another. Being friends with spies had it’s perks.

They ate their food until their bellies were full. A comfortable, relaxing stupor, being warm from the inside out.

Tony noticed when the woman spoke, she spoke with her hands. She had caught herself grasping his forearm multiple times when they’d got more passionate about their discussion. And what Tony loved the most was that she refused to apologize. He saw a kindred soul in the woman; quiet until something struck her fancy. Then, she became a whirlwind of ideas and opinions.

In no time, it became a natural action to extend his arm and wrap it around her shoulders, reclining backwards. There was little grace in laying belly-up like a dead fish but the woman didn’t seem to mind. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, she laid down sideways, throwing a leg over one of his own.

Her palm traced the outline of his arc reactor when something on the screen caught her in a moment of intense interest. Tony preferred to avoid the cursed thing - scars around it definitely did not do any favour to his aging, marked body - but he found himself exhaling the tension when it was obvious the woman really did not care. An occasional quiet hum of satisfaction was the only noise that came from her: he noticed the sound escaped her lips every time his thumb began fiddling with the sleeve of her blouse and rubbed against her arm.

He was quite content. It was warm, he was surrounded by so much warmth.

The hug was mutual when she left home, both of them comfortable with the gesture for people who had met in a rather unconventional way.

She started coming over a couple of times a week, a quiet evening of the best takeout in NYC and (mostly) interesting movies. A solace, always a single e-mail away.

Tony saw her in the cafeteria once or twice; he appreciated the brief, tiny secretive grin she gave him out of her friend’s eyesight. She never approached him. He was grateful for that. He didn’t want to deal with all the drama and all the fuss surrounding incidents between him and his employees. It was nobody’s business what any of them did after clocking out - and him and his cuddle buddy, they weren’t even fucking, for Thor’s sake.

Maybe they would get there someday. Or maybe they won’t. It was only now for Tony. The rare free Saturday night he had, he truly took a vacation from all the bullshit and lured her in with promises of very expensive wine, her favourite New York style pizza and the willingness to entertain watching a few of those funny YouTube videos she liked.

They did watch them and Tony didn’t mind. He stepped over the irrational fear and the initial discomfort and curled up around her, hiding his face in the soft cotton of her worn hoodie, his own breath tickling his face in warm puffs. The hand running through his hair was tender like it never was with Pepper - his ex was far too preoccupied to baby her grown-up boyfriend. But the woman moulded to his body like an extension of himself was happy to do so. Tony’s hair was longer now and it glided perfectly along the woman’s palms.

His heart was steady, thumping in his ears, overshadowing the noises coming from the TV. He exhaled and felt her other hand begin tracing circles on his back, as if she saw the stress and the bitterness leave his body with every caress, every brush of their bodies. Maybe she did?

He held onto her, held her back like she’d held him. Safekeeping the warmth inside of him. Guarding his peace.