#clance x reader
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sawyerconfort · 1 year ago
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A LEAGUE OF THEIR OWN MASTERLIST
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What if...
First Kiss With the Rockford Peaches (+ Max)
When They Get Jealous With the Rockford Peaches (+ Max)
Caught Wearing Their Shirt With the Rockford Peaches (+ Max)
Carson Shaw
Exhaust Valve | Carson Shaw x Fem!Reader %
Greta Gill
Two Weeks and I’ll Be Home | Greta Gill x Fem!Reader 
Lupe Garcia
Dating Lupe would include...
Your Small Insecurities | Lupe Garcia x Fem!Reader 
Jess McCready
Dating Jess would include...
Jo de Luca
She’s Not You | Jo de Luca x Fem! Reader
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oldiesstationlover11607 · 1 month ago
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it's p obvious who I am w these requests bc I literally said so in the comments of my first request but THANK YOU SO MUCH IM OVER THE MOON!!!!!!!! you're a v talented writer I really like these so so much ///////
I've had a loose idea for hanahaki in relation to clancebearer + rebel red carnations / the yellow petals but I have. No idea what to do about that. Maybe you would have some clue LOL
Petals - Torchbearer!Josh Dun x Reader
Warnings: hanahaki + near death experience 😭
Word Count: 1074 - short and sweet
A/N: I don't write for joshler/clance-bearer but I thought I'd write something similar bc I thought this idea was interesting. I saw your other comment about using the null symbol bc you've liked it before tøp so i'm okay with that being ur anon symbol/emjoi thing. Hopefully you enjoy this and request a few more things :) I also have NO idea who u are btw lol.
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I never told anyone. It was too much to admit, even to myself. I thought if I kept ignoring it, it would just go away—that maybe if I swallowed it all down hard enough, I could force it back where it belonged. But emotions, like flowers, have a way of growing in the dark.
And it started with yellow.
It was always yellow with him. That color meant loyalty, protection, rebellion. Every time we stood side by side, I’d see the flash of yellow on his clothes. I wanted to ask him what it all meant, why he wore it with such conviction. But then, what did I know about loyalty?
After all, I couldn’t even stay true to myself.
I’d been with the Torchbearer for so long, following him through every battle, every narrow escape from Dema, through the endless fight to keep the torch burning. I admired him, envied him even. He was always so sure of what he was doing, so steady when everything around us seemed to fall apart.
But somewhere along the way, admiration became something else. Something more painful, more personal. And I knew that if I let it out, it would consume me. So, I buried it. Deep.
The problem was… it didn’t stay buried.
I felt it the first time a petal fluttered from my lips, a strange tickling sensation that I brushed off as dust or something in the air. But the petals kept coming, like little reminders that I was no longer in control. Bright, vibrant yellow petals—his color. Every time I coughed, I found more. I started hiding them, stuffing them into my pockets or crushing them beneath my heel when no one was looking.
I thought I could manage it. After all, I’d managed to keep my feelings hidden from him, hadn’t I?
But it was getting worse. The pressure in my chest was unbearable some days, like something had rooted itself deep inside my lungs and refused to let go. The more I tried to swallow it down, the more it seemed to grow, spreading its roots until even breathing felt like a struggle.
I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t tell anyone.
Then came the day of the hike.
The Torchbearer had suggested it, saying we all needed a break, a moment to step away from Dema’s gray walls and the constant threat of the Bishops. Clancy had agreed, and before I knew it, we were hiking through the woods just outside the city limits. The air was fresh, the sky clear, and for a little while, I thought maybe this could help. Maybe I could breathe.
But I couldn’t.
Each step felt heavier than the last. I could barely keep up, my breaths coming in short gasps. My throat burned, and I could feel the petals pushing up, scratching at the back of my throat, begging to be released.
I stumbled, my vision blurring. The Torchbearer’s voice cut through the haze, calling my name, but it sounded distant, like he was miles away instead of just a few steps ahead.
“Are you okay?” His voice was close now, his hand on my arm, steadying me. I didn’t dare look at him. I didn’t want him to see what was happening.
But it was too late.
The moment I opened my mouth to speak, a cluster of yellow petals spilled out, floating to the ground between us. I froze, my breath catching in my chest as more petals followed—whole flowers now, bright and vivid and wrong. I couldn’t stop it.
The Torchbearer’s eyes widened, his hand tightening around my arm as he crouched in front of me. “What—what is this?”
I choked, trying to push the words out between the petals, but it was useless. My throat was full of them, each one sharper than the last, tearing at me from the inside. Tears stung my eyes as I doubled over, clutching my chest, my hands trembling as more flowers fell.
He didn’t let go. His voice was frantic now, his eyes scanning me, desperate for answers I couldn’t give. “Hey, what’s happening?” He looked at Clancy, who seemed to know exactly what’s going on. 
The truth was as tangled inside me as the flowers themselves. “It’s—” I coughed again, spitting out another petal, my voice raw and strained. 
“It’s Hanahaki disease,” Clancy started, “it happens sometimes in Dema, a–uh, side effect of repressing your feelings–romantic ones.”
The Torchbearer’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t—what does that mean? Why is this happening?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, the weight of it all crushing me. 
“It means… it means she likes you.” The words fell from his lips like a confession, a release. 
The silence that followed was worse than the pain. It was suffocating, like the flowers had stolen the air from my lungs completely. I waited for him to pull away, to let go, to leave me there with my shame and the flowers that were killing me from the inside.
But he didn’t.
Instead, I felt his hand on my face, soft and steady, his thumb brushing away the tears I hadn’t even realized were there. “You—” His voice was thick, like he was trying to process it all at once. “You’re sick because of me?”
I nodded, unable to meet his eyes. 
“It happens when someone loves someone else, but they don’t think it’s mutual. The flowers grow… and eventually, they take over,” Clancy continued. 
There was a pause, and then I felt his arms wrap around me, pulling me into his chest. His voice was low, trembling. “You should have told me.”
I shook my head, words unable to escape my mouth.
“You’re not going to lose me,” he whispered, his breath warm against my hair. “You never were.”
I pulled back just enough to see his face, my heart pounding in my chest.
He smiled, a soft, sad smile that made my chest tighten. “I’m saying I love you too.” His thumb brushed over the yellow petal still clinging to my lips. “I’m saying you don’t have to do this alone anymore.”
The flowers stopped. Just like that.
As he held me, I felt the weight in my chest lift, the pressure easing as if his words had reached deep inside me and pulled the roots free. I could breathe again.
And for the first time in a long while, I wasn’t afraid of the yellow.
//
REQUESTS OPEN
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vibratingskull · 1 year ago
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The stray cat
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Thurfian x f!reader 
tags: oral (m receiving), fingering, p in v, Thurfian can be mean, soft dom and sub energy (I guess?)
He may fucks you but You fuck the system.
You're curled on your datap- questis, when you hear the door of your office. You turn to see the Mitth Patriarch standing beside the door, holding the bridge of his nose. You open your mouth to salute him but he raises his hand to stop you. 
“No. I do not want to hear anything. This is not the time."
He swiftly walks to a chair and sits down, with a sigh. You don't have to say a thing, you guessed already. 
“Thrawn is at it, again!" He explodes. 
Nailed it. 
"Can I ask what he did this time, your Venerante?" You ask, preparing a glass. It happens from time to time, he comes blew some steam off in your small office, somewhere he can let go of the heavy mask of protocols and decency because you don't hold any power to leverage against him. 
"No, you can not." He growls. "You will hear about it soon enough through the Syndicure."
You put down a shot of whisky on the table and he gulps it down like he would drink milk. 
"I am going to get white hair early because of him." He clancs the glass down hard, with a sigh. 
This forces a smile out of you. It would be a shame for him who takes all this time to groom himself to always appear at his best. You slide behind him and start massaging his temples. He lets you do it, closing his eyes. 
"For how long has this been going on?" You investigate. 
You're not aware of everything between them. Since you have been rescued from certain death by captain Thrawn in what they call the chaos you've been deemed an Ascendency problem and a Mitth responsibility, at the great dam of the Patriarch Thurfian. Since then you roam their mansion under high security and you slowly become like a stray cat, one you like to pet but nobody wants to claim responsibility over. So you became his problem, one he inherited once again from captain Thrawn like it was regular and at first he resented both of you for that. He already has the whole family to manage and now a weird alien freely walks inside the walls of his home, between the trusted members of his dear family. 
So it became a pride affair for him to manage the alien, to keep it alive while preventing it from discovering the Ascendancy's secrets. When it appeared clear you were not interested in the slightest in penetrating their mysteries and was just trying to keep a low profile in an alien society hostile to foreigners, he started to relax. 
As much as he can relax, which means not a lot. 
“Since day one!” He erupts. “Even his entry in the family was against all protocols!”
You slide your hand to his shoulders, grazing his neck with the tips of your fingers, and continue massaging, finding knots in his broad shoulders. He rolls them and his head to stretch his neck. His long hair dances in his back and you get a whiff of his cologne. It’not the same he usually puts, you notice. He growls, pulling on his collar like he is too hot. You open the collar of his constrictive red tunic, he shoots you a glare over his shoulder but remains silent. You offer him an innocent smile in response and resume the massage.
“Do you advance in the classification of the data?” He demands with an authoritarian voice.
It’s an ungrateful job, repetitive and not intellectually stimulating, the type of job you give to a new internship, but in exchange you get board, lodging and a small saving so you don’t complain.
“I’m almost finished, I should be able to start the last folders by the end of the day.” You try to articulate the difficult Cheuhn words as gracefully as you could, but you can't help one or two grimaces when you stretch your mouth. A good thing you’re behind him, he would not take it nicely.
“Good. If you do well, I will think about transferring you to a team of syndics to help them out.” He edicts.
Traduction: If you’re exploitable you’ll be transferred to a bigger office, but with surveillance.
“Really?”
“If you do well.” He insists.
You pout.
You know as a human you won’t get far in this society, but gratefulness would be appreciated, and you start feeling hemmed in this small office. You could use some company.
You grin.
You lean forward, slowly, slipping your hand inside his tunic, placing his head between your breast, his hair tickling you. You feel his heart beating through your palm.
“And if I do really well?” you mewl.
You lick the tip of his ear, tasting the metal of his ornate earrings. 
Taste pricey.
Another thing you came to know about Thurfian after some time, is that behind this mask of dignity and respectability he has his own deviances. Deviances you like to play with.
His hand hooks the back of your neck, caressing your cheek, and holds you in place, taking a fistfull of your hair. 
"What do you hope for, human?" He turns his head toward you, his nose brushing your cheek.
"For a bit of sweet time. Those days here are so boring and lonely.” You mince, pulling you closer to him, embracing him tighter.
“Well tough luck for you, I don’t have time to give you. You will have to wait.” He moves away, rising from his seat to observe the gardens through the window, hands clasped behind his back.
You follow the man with your eyes, like a predator would a prey. He’s a taker and a proud one, but you have your own means to obtain what you want. Simpering doesn’t work, no problem, you’ll use his next weakness: pride.
“Okay.” You sigh. “Then I’ll find someone else to wait for in this case.”
You see his eye twitch.
“What?” He asks incredulously.
“I can wait for you, but I’ll need someone to play with to be patient.” You innocently explain. “I have already set my eyes on some of your advisors.”
“They are trusty and loyal advisors. They will not betray me in any way.”
“Ah but you insisted on hiding our little affair, they don’t know about that.” you remind him.
He scoffs
“I doubt you will find anyone interested in you, human. You're an exotic treat but we have our pride.”
“You’re right.” You falsely concede. “I will need someone with a broader mind. I wonder if Captain Thrawn is free right now?”
Thurfian looks at you like you spitted in his face.
“I always find him quite charming to be honest, maybe because he’s the most open minded of you all.” You continue. “It’s been a while since I saw him either way.”
“What makes you think he will respond positively to your advances?” He inquires with a steady voice, but his eyes are throwing daggers.
“I already have the Patriarch wrapped around my finger, I can surely make the weirdo of the family bend the knee…” You slyly comment, taking out your comlink.
He freeze.
Maybe this last comment was a bit too far.
He jumps at you with a furious expression, his burning eyes blazing dangerous flames.
You just have time to worry if he’s gonna slap you for that last affront, when he grabs your chin with his fist and his lips come crashing on yours. Your cry of surprise is muffled by the kiss. His tongue forces the way inside your mouth and clashes with yours. 
You chastise yourself.
You should have guessed this reaction, one of the peaks of a relationship with a lowly alien is that you don’t have to embarrass yourself with the cumbersome etiquette and decorum, he would not trouble himself with it for you.
He presses you against your desk, in a demanding embrace. You pull away to take back your breath, panting. He licks your lips and grasp your cheek, making you look like a fish.
“21h, in my room. I will not tolerate lateness. Wore something red and golden.” He orders. 
He finally lets you go, gasping for air. He opens the door and before getting out shouts.
“And you better be done with all the folders!”
And thats how you get what you want around here.
__________________________________________________________________
You hurry in the corridors, praying not to cross paths with anyone. You have a collection of excuses for why you’re roaming around the Patriarch quarters late at night, but for secrecy reasons you’d prefer not having to justify yourself. Plus Thurfian would give you an earful. You sigh, all those secrets are tiring sometimes. It would be simpler if he revealed seeing you, but he would rather die than admit he’s fucking the alien. He loves to do it, he loves the thrills and exoticism you bring but his Patriarch pride would be forever soiled if the fact that he knows you instead of proper Chiss women was exposed. He likes the secrecy and his privacy. 
You arrive at his door, knock three times, wait and knock two times. Your secret code.
“Enter.” A blasé voice can be heard.
You enter and quickly close the door behind you. He’s reading something, his face resting on the back of his hand, eyes fixed on the file before him. He brings a glass of Nectarwine to his lips without even looking at you.
“Come closer.”
You swing your hips, making your heels clac on the ornate parquet. He extends his hand to you. 
“Kiss.”
You smile. He wants to do it that way tonight huh? 
You kneel and take his hand.
“Your Venerante.”
You kiss the back of his hand and put it against your forehead.
He doesn’t look at you, still fixated on his file he takes another sip. You kiss his hand once again, dart your tongue and lick the base of his fingers.
“Patriarch” You coo.
He deigns looking at you, with a closed, indecipherable expression. He pours himself another glass and rises from his chair to walk to a way more comfortable armchair.
“I did not appreciate your little show of disobedience earlier.”
You beg to differ, judging by his reaction it must have excited him tremendously. You remain silent.
“You swore allegiance to the Ascendancy and to the Mitth family, it was the conditions for you to remain free in the Ascendancy. I see that when unchecked your rebellious and dangerous behaviors get the upper hands.”
He sits down with a sigh and joins his hands before him.
“You will renew those vows tonight.”
“Yes, my liege.” You grin.
He looks at you up and down, unimpressed.
“I have a clear memory ordering you to wear something red and golden.”
“But I did, your Venerante.”
You take off your belt and start unbuttoning your blazer when he raises his hand.
“Slower.”He orders.
“Of course, my Lord.” You smile innocently.
One by one you unbutton it, taking your time,letting it go sensually, throwing it somewhere in the room. You start swinging your hips as you take off your shirt, playing with the hem, showing bits of your soft tummy, spinning on yourself while humming a tune you undress your back and take off your blouse. You grab your butt and shake it with a laugh. You turn back to face him again, revealing the bra with his family’s colors and your soft breast. No smile comes to crack his face, his eyes fixated on you with the most serious in the world, sipping his drinks. He doesn't look amused but you start having fun so you continue rocking your bust, shaking your hair everywhere, jumping in place like you would do at a rock concert. But you’re not a rock concert. You’re in the bedchambers of the Mitth Patriarch.
It doesn't stop you from bursting laughing at yourself.
If you're not mistaking, foreplay and sex aren't the liberating acts that they are for humans to the Chiss. Even in this intimate moment of vulnerability, decorum and rigid etiquette are still expected between the partners, which sounds like a hassle and a way of burning down yourself slowly, bit by bit. You're not exactly sure it is a healthy approach to the subject, but this is how they do things. Maybe this is what he loves about you, this reckless abandon, this untamable playfulness… 
You caress and stroke your body, kick off your shoes and open your pants, letting them slide across your legs slowly, revealing your plump thighs, then your round calves and finally your delicate ankles.
You strike a pose, hands on your waist, letting him appreciate the undergarments and how it hugs your form and compliments your figure. You caress your bosoms, your flanks , your tummy, you hook your panties, playing with the hems, you let one brace slide across your shoulder.
He indicates you to come closer with two fingers. You giggle and go to all four, crawling to him with glint in the eyes. You think you see the thinnest smile on his lips as he puts down his empty glass on the table, spreading his legs as you come closer. He moves aside the shirt-tail of his tunic and opens his trouser. You slide yourself between his legs, spreading them further with your hands on his knees. His hand comes caressing your cheek, you rub it in his palm, closing your eyes to appreciate the warmth to his skin. You always liked that Chiss are naturally warmer than humans. It offers a nice contrast to their cold behavior. His thumb slides inside your mouth. 
"You seem full of energy tonight, human."
"I am excited, Patriarch. You grace me with little visits lately. I have to make the most of it!" You chuckle brightly. 
"Does my little human feel lonely in her office?" He mocks, caressing your lips with his thumb. 
You bite down his thumbs as a warning. You're not taking mockery well. He can deprive you of those sweet times, but you can do just as much. And you know behind this stern and haughty behavior he needs them as much as you. 
He winces in pain for a split second and his stern expression comes back. He trails your teeth with his bitten tongue, parting your red lips. You suck on it, moaning obscenely. 
"You are feisty tonight. I can deal with that. Firstly…"
He takes his cock out of his trousers and gives it a few strokes. 
"... Put those plump lips to good use and serve your Patriarch." He orders. 
Your hands leave his knees to take him. You give it a few strokes to help him harden, you already see some precum leaking at his head. You approach your head and lick the tip, circling the crown. You taste the saltiness and give it a few laps. You then slide at the base of his shaft and lick your way up with the flat of your tongue sloppily, teasing him. His mouth is no more than a thin line, and you hear him breathe through his nose. You look deeply in his carmin shining eyes, and give his length a noisy kiss. You take him in your warm and wet mouth, just the tip at first, swirling it, titillating it with the dart of your tongue, then you allow it to go deeper, slowly, preventing your gag reflex to come into the action. You feel him hardening by the seconds. Your lips part father as you work your way down his girth, until you feel your nose touching his skin and his erection reach the back of your throat. You notice he puts perfume down there too, how thoughtful of him. You remain still several seconds, breathing deeply through your nose.
You look up to him. 
He looks at you with a strange shimmer in the eyes, his head in his hand appearing like a king that awaits for his order to be obeyed. He gently brushes back a strand of hair out of your face. You gulp and rise your head back, lapping at the veiny length from the base to the tip. And you go back down. Slowly. Steadily. You start bobbing your head away, focusing on your respiration. You feel one of his hands comb through your hair, caressing your head. 
He sighs with contentment. 
You gulp and try your best to swallow his whole cock each time, but it is easier say than done. He is remarkably well endowed, nature has been generous with him, but it adds difficulty to your task. 
He sighs again. 
"You are good for that. Like you were born for it." He hums. 
You moan the best you could to the compliment. His hand comes caressing your hollowing cheek as you spread his thighs further. 
"I do not like the idea of you fooling around with someone else." He continues on a conversational tone. "I should forbid you from it." 
On the contrary you think he would like that, he always struck you as someone who would like to watch. 
"Remain with me." He rasps. "Do not leave my side. " He throws his head back. "Continue. Do not stop."
You close your watering eyes, you feel drool on your chin dripping on the pricey carpet. You try to keep your gag reflex at bay but his cock brushes the back of your throat each time. You feel him delicately pushing your head down, slowly but firmly. You moan a warning, you're not at your limit but you're close. You feel him whole in your mouth, his veins, his precum, his throbs indicating you that he's close. He passes a hand through his hair with another contented sigh. His shaft hits the back of your throat once again and he pushes it further down. You dig your nails in his thighs. Careful. 
He releases the pressure on your head. 
You raise your head back and take a deep breath through your nose. You start bobbing away rapidly, only taking him mid-way but caressing the base with your hand. You go rapidly, feeling him throbbing between your swollen lips.
“Alright, enough.” He pants.
But you don’t stop, you keep going determined to have him finished with your mouth alone. A little bit of powerplay to strip him of his pride.
“I said stop.” He digs his nails in the leather of the armchair.
You continue despite his warning, it’s about speed now. You feel his leg muscles contract and flex and his cock harden with blood beating through his veins. You’re drooling all over and making a mess. 
“You…”
He takes a fistful of your hair and yanks your head backward. You let him go with a soundly pop. He's looking at you with a furious gaze, his cheek in a purple color and panting like you are. You stay like that in silence for several seconds.
“You… Unruly woman…” He pants, gritting his teeth.
You smile, wiping your mouth and chin. You didn’t succeed. Oh well, you’ll try it again another day.
“What is it, Patriarch? A little stunt put you in this mess?”
“You…” He takes a breath. “...Need to be taught some manners. Urgently.”
You lick your lips without breaking eye contact.
“I think you became too comfortable around here. You are on shaky ground, human. Do not forget I can transfer you to prison or the GAU, it would be less work for me and my syndics.”
“For what crime, Patriarch? Making you orgasm?” You ask with false innocence.
“The bed. Now.” He orders, releasing your head.
You rise up and do a mimic of a reverence.
“But of course my liege.”
“Hurry.” He snarls, dressing down.
You jump on the bed and bounce, laughing. You spread your limbs like a starfish, taking all the place on the bed. From the corner of your eyes you see him take something out of a drawer and crawl on the bed. You jump on your knees with an amused growl.
“What is it?” You ask giggling.
“Tools for undisciplined persons like yourself.”
“Ouh, you mean you already used it on somebody else other than me?” You tilt your head with a grin.
“You do not have the primacy of my bed.”
“Maybe…” You lick your lips again. “I’ve seen your numerous Chiss lovers. But each time you come back to me.” You lean forward to kiss him but he stops you by grasping your throat.
“Lay down.” He cuts you out.
He gently guides you holding your throat. You lay down on your back, head on the pillow, awaiting what’s coming next with anticipation.
“Hands up.”
You obey without getting rid of your grin, you look at him smugly. You hear a metallic sound and feel cold around your wrists. You look up at the handcuffs.
“Hey! That’s unfair!” You protest pulling on your arms.
You only make the handcuffs rattle. He chuckles.
“That is what you get for being disobedient.” 
“Blast!” You spite.
“Now, either you remain calm or I will let you handcuffed here for the whole night.”
You sigh. He won this one.
He kisses your cheek and the corner of your lips, kneading your breast over your bra. You start hearing him purr, a deep sound rumbling his chest, coming from the deep at the back of his throat. His mouth descends at your neck and his hand caresses it’s way south, across your tummy to your venus mount. His fingers dance across your skin at this sensible area, drawing sweet circles as he nibbles the sweet spot of your neck. A whine escapes you, sometimes you love his little game and sometimes you want to get done with it to get to the interesting part. It seems like he wants to play first. You’re especially impatient because you feel his erection poking at your thigh. You want to get to the fun quickly.
“Can we skip this part?” You negotiate.
He bites down your neck. 
That’s a clear no.
His hand scoops your pussy, you can feel his warm palm on your lips through the fabric of the pantie. He trails it with his fingers, titillating your entrance. He slides it to the side and trails it once again without anything between your fleshes. He caresses your pussylips, kneads them, covers them with his palm, taking his sweet time while you grow more and more impatient.
“At the risk of appearing impolite, your Venerante, can we please skip this part of the process?” You ask over politely.
“I am not taking you without preparation.”
You scoff.
“Oh come on now.”
He side eyes you.
“Reminds me who is in charge here?”
You look at him unimpressed, and pout.
“You…” You admit reluctantly
“Good. So we will do it my way.”
He put two fingers at the entrance of your mouth.
“Suck.”
You welcome his digits in your mouth and suck them, lubricating them enough for your southern mouth. He takes them out and resumes his caress. He pushes one finger inside your warm cavern, he searches a bit and finds your g-spot. He starts grazing it gently, almost tickling you but the sensation is really pleasant. He kisses one of your bosoms and your collar bone as he toys with you. Your toes curl at the sensation of his long slender finger scraping at your sensitive spot. 
“You’re getting wetter.” He hums satisfied.
You open your mouth to respond but instead a moan escapes you. He curls his finger inside you, earning a mewl. He buries a second finger and parts your folds, scissors you, stretching your tender walls wide. He caresses your insides in a circular motion, grazing at your soft inner flesh, before coming back to your G-spot and assaulting it relentlessly. You bite your lower lips, almost slashing it. Why is he so good at that?
“Won’t you sing for me, Vutucni?”
You don’t know this one. You reluctantly untie your mouth, de-gritting your teeth in a conscious effort. Your instincts always try to silence you in those moments, but him, he likes the sound of you moaning, whining, crying out your pleasure in desperation. He pumps his fingers inside of you, grazing your spot tirelessly, making the tension rise as your juices coat your thighs, drooling off your wet walls, wetting the sheet. 
He trails down your slit with his fingers, coating them. 
"That's better…" He purrs. 
A deep, guttural sound of approval. 
"... But I am sure you can do even more." 
He resumes the pumping of his fingers, teasing your clit with his thumbs, circling it, pressing it. Your delicate walls tightens around his flexible hand and lean fingers that expertedly earn a whine out of you. You feel pleasure spreading through your veins like gentle waves, one after the other, you feel your blood flying down your pussy and your clit, puffing up your walls. 
Suddenly, it happens. 
Your walls contract and clench around his hand, imprisoning it. You let out a cry of pleasure, throwing your head back, rolling your eyes. It is a long mewl that ends in a deep satisfied sigh, an obscene song he loves to listen to. All your body tenses up, curling your toes.
“Can you do what you did last time?” He demands.
He insists on your G-spot and sensitive pearl, rolling on your orgasm,  building up the tension again.
“... That’s not… not really a thing I can control… Ah-” You pants.
“You will do it again, for me.” He just assured.
He pumps his hand in and out hard, curling his fingers, assaulting your poor little cunny. He kisses your collarbone, nibbling at your sensitive spot, licking across while purring, you can feel the vibrations of his chest. You close your legs suddenly as you feel your muscles clenching again with force that it shakes your whole legs, you squirt on his hand with a pathetic whine, out of breath, trembling with all your limbs.
“See? I told you you could do it again.” He pulls out his dripping hand with a satisfied smug. “Taste yourself.”
You open your mouth and suck on his fingers, drinking from yourself. It’s a bit salty, titillating your tastebuds. You lap his digits diligently until he takes them out to try out for himself. He moans appreciatively. 
“You make for a tasty treat, human.” He teases.
 He raises from his lying position and places himself between your legs, spreading them as wide as possible, exposing your cunt to him. He actually takes the time to observe it in detail, caressing it gently with what looks like curiosity in his fiery eyes. It makes you feel even more naked to be scrutinized like that. But more importantly you feel infuriatingly empty, and that, you cannot tolerate.
“So you’re gonna fuck me or what?” You ask feverishly, on the verge of implosion.
“Such impatience.” He tsk, he pumps himself a few times to give his erection a bit of vigor back. It’s impressive it lasted that long, to be honest. He rests his girthy shaft against your pussylips, coating it with your juice, grazing it up and down slowly  “I do not know if you are worthy of me. Your act of defiance earlier is still unpunished, maybe I should just finish myself on your stomach and leave you here for the night, needy and cold. Maybe it would teach you a lesson.” 
“Please…” You negociate and squirm in his hands.
“You are going to need to do better than that.” He stops the pleasurable grazing of his dick.
You try to move your hips to get some friction by yourself but he holds you down with his strong hands, immobilizing you. 
“Your Venrante, will you consider the possibility of fucking me?” You plead with puppy eyes and pout.
He slaps your pussy and you yelp in pain and surprise.
“Don’t be a smartass with me.” He snarls.
You breathe through your nose and gulp. He really needs to relax sometimes.
“Patriarch, please…” you look him in the eyes, any signs of mocking disappear, you put as much of needy desire your dignity allows.“...I want you inside me.”
He considers you with a raised eyebrow, with intense glowy eyes you could barely see any pupils or iris, resuming lightly the grazing of his length like an encouragement, teasing you.
But he doesn’t enter you.
You grit your teeth. What the fuck does he wants?
You feel tears building behind your eyes and your hypersensitivity gets the best of you.
“Oh maker, what do you want me to do?!” You rage “Do you want me to beg?!”
“Yes.” He coldly respond.
You open your eyes wide, ready to protest but you stop at his haughty and cold expression. You don’t feel any warmth behind those eyes, any playfulness, just superiority and pride. It doesn't feel like a game anymore.
A grimace twists your features. He’s dead serious, isn’t he?
“Thurfian, please…” Your voice trembles, shaked by the incoming sobs.
He looks at you with a smug expression but doesn't move with the intent of acceding your request.
“Please…” Your voice cracks
You feel tears rolling down your cheeks and a sob comes shaking you.
“Please…” you cry so low you’re sure he can’t hear you.
You look up to him with trembling lips, a satisfied grin on his face. He leans forward and licks your tears.
“May this be your lesson.” He murmurs.
And he enters you without warning, pushing the air out of your lungs. You whine at the sudden feeling of fullness. He thrusts with full force in your tight little pussy, making your breast bounces. He pounds you without mercy, not letting you time to take your breath, 
fucking you raw. You gasp at each thrust, face soaked with tears and cunt wet. You hold on the bed headframe for dear life, clawing the metal with your nails. If your hands were free you would have roamed them all over his body, in his hair, digging your nails in the flesh of his back. But they are tied. He takes your jaw between his fingers and kisses you languorously. You moan in his mouth, eyes closed, your puffy lips embracing his, your tongue dancing together. It muffles your whines and cries, absorbed by the kiss. He rocks his hips with a merciless rhythm, his cock strangled by your clenching walls. The fire in your abdomen spreads as all your blood rushes to your cunt and clit, engorging your inner muscles. His other hand comes between your two sweaty bodies, rapidly moving at your clit so nicely, playing with it, setting it on fire. You feel his length drooling and twitching inside of you.
Once again, you cum in a spasm, all your body tensing up, leaving a creamy O on his cock. You scream in his mouth, your toes curling and back arching against his warm body. You almost bit his tongue in the confusion. Your tender inner walls clenching furiously around his shaft.
His thrust began to be more and more erratic until he came to a complete stop,  his sperm filling you up with a sighed moan against your neck. He doesn’t pull out, just lays on top of you, kissing and caressing your cheeks. 
You gulp, taking back your breath and gathering your thoughts. He pants next to you, leaving pecks at the corner of your lips. He releases your hands, his coming to stroke your hair delicately as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.
He never finishes inside you. Never.
You slowly come down from the high, your sobbs subsiding gradually. 
He seems to be searching for his words.
“I was unjust…” He pants.
You guess it’s the closest thing you’ll get for an apology. 
You nod, chasing off your last tears.
He lowers his head as he’s about to kiss you again but stops mere centimeters away leaving you the choice.
You choose to kiss him.
The kiss is tender and light. You moan against his lips. He purrs deeply.
You part reluctantly, he puts his forehead against yours, holding your face.
You remain silent, listening to your pants, beating hearts and his purr. It soothes you.
“I will transfer you to another office. To a less ungrateful task with company.” He promises.
You smile faintly, exhausted.
But you want to know.
You gulp.
“What are we gonna do if ever I… get pregnant?”
His purr deepens, kissing the corner of your lips.
“We will do what it takes.”
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@bluechiss, @aroayr-shuk, @exoplorationn
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decadentenemyturtle · 2 years ago
Text
Undying love
Chapter 4
Pairing: Thorin x Reader, Kíli x OC
Words: 1222
Warnings: None
All chapters of Undying love
Rebecca sat on bar stool next to a working table and stared at her two co-worker. Aurora and (Y/n) were glaring at each other, (Y/n) holding a creased peace of paper on her hand. Neither one of the woman were saying anything, until Aurora sighed.
"I'm just delivering a note here, I really had NO idea what was written on it" she explained, sounding irritated, before turning and leaving the kitchen. (Y/n) glared after her for a few more seconds before turning and going to women's locker room.
"I'll be back soon" she mumbled before the door to kitchen closed. Rebecca stared after her and groaned. It was one of those days, it seems. She really hated witnessing relationship drama's, especially at work when she really couldn't run away from them. On her lunch break on top of that!
How the fuck dare they!
"I should NOT have tried to get a job from here" Rebecca grumbeled and finished her salad. But alas, she needed the job to get money to support her studies and, you know, normal living. So, biting her lip, she washed the plate and utensils she had been using, and got back to work. She arrived to coffee house just in time to see the two, short men with long, dark hair to live the shop, the one with blue eyes clancing back to the registers. His face seemed to turn even more pathetic than it was a second before the door closed and Rebecca was not sure how to feel about that.
Those two must have been the reason for the tenson between Aurora and (Y/n), and that note Aurora had received to give forward. So, the sad guy must have been the so called ex. And still, Rebecca was not sure, what to feel. Not that it was any of her business at all.
"Alright, now that you two are back, I'm leaving for the day" Nimue said and left shortly. Rebecca watched after her and wondered, if their boss was aware of what had just happened in kitchen. And who had just been in their little coffee shop. She had been really supportive towards (Y/n), and Rebecca doubted that she really wouldn't like the fact that (Y/n)'s ex had been here, probably trying to win (Y/n)'s favor back.
Rebecca didn't know exactly what had happened between them, only that this mysterious guy hadn't been very supportive towards (Y/n) and her work, apparently even destroying some of her work at some point. Rebecca didn't blame (Y/n) for getting angry, she didn't even dare to think the amount of money gone waste in that situation. Accident or not.
As a customer came to the register, the kitchen door opened and (Y/n) came back to work. She looked a little better than before, and she and Aurora managed to work in peace the rest of their shift.
Thorin and Kíli left the coffee house to their hotel room. Thorin had a deep frown and he seemed to be lost in his thoughts. Kíli didn't dare say anything. By now he knew better to give some space to his uncle and his thoughts. But Kíli also knew to give his support to Thorin in a silent way, trying to make sure that Thorin didn't bottle things up.
His amad had thaught him that. Thorin had always tended to bottle things up rather than talk about things. Even Balin had sometimes trouble to get Thorin to talk about small things.
And to be honest, Kíli did have his own concern's. After Aurora had gone to back room and another woman had come to the register instead, an uneasy feeling took over Kíli. An odd feeling he couldn't quite place, but Kíli could bet his honor that it had to with the newly arrived woman. The said woman had laid her eyes on him and Thorin almost immediately and something had flashed on her eyes. Thorin had also cauguht up this strange woman and seemed to share Kíli's uneasy feeling, for he had whispered that they'd leave as soon as he'd finish the cup.
It had taken Aurora only few minutes to stay in kitchen and when she came back, she seemed tense. (Y/n) hadn't apparently taken well the note, or then something else had happened. But whatever it was, Aurora's tense behaviour and the fact that she seemed to avoid the older woman only made Kíli feel worse.
Thorin finished his cup just in time before Kíli could have an break down and burst out of the little shop through the window, and they left the shop. Just as Kíli had opened the door, he hear the swing door open and someone come back to the coffee shop from the back room, but he didn't dare to look back. He just had to get out from there. And fast.
And now that he was walking through the sidewalk of the city and had calmed down a little, he undrestood that the feeling had been similar for when he had been hunted down in narrow tunnels of Ravenhill. According to Tauriel, it was a feeling a prey would have when they were cornenered by a hunter. She had had apparently same feeling, many times. And Kíli believed her, living in that cursed, dark forest.
"That woman is a witch" Thorin suddenly murmured as they stopped to a red light. Kíli was pullen back from his thoughts and he turned to Thorin. Hundred and none thoughts went through Kíli's mind at a same time and he blinked.
What?!
Light turned green and people started to walk around them, and a seconds later they started too.
Kíli opened his mouth to ask the million question's he had, but Thorin silenced him shaking his head and shutting himself off from the outer world. Kíli huffed, angrily.
"Then do not comment on things if you do not wish to start an conversation" Kíli complained, in same tone as Balin normally spoke when he was displeased with Thorin. Kíli didn't look at Thorin, but he could tell that Thorin was looking at him, probably surprised and taken aback. And he couldn't blame Thorin, for Kíli rarely was this serious and used this kind of tone.
They crossed the street and Thorin glanced over his shoulder, turning dead serious when his gaze turned back onward.
"We are being followed" he murmured. Kíli frowned and kept himself from looking over his shoulder. If Thorin was sure someone was follwing them on purpose, then he must trust him. Part of Kíli was glad that Thorin had come along, Kíli wasn't sure if he could have done this alone.
"The shop isn't far, we could go there" Kíli offered and Thorin only nodded. So instead of going to their hotel and revealing where they stayed, they walked to Gold Wand shop to safety.
And Neil was waiting for them in there, with warm and welcoming smile on him. And he seemed to know that something, or rather, someone troubling them.
"She cannot, or should I say, will not come in the store. You are safe here, and you are welcome to stay a night if you wish. The witch Nimue shall not trouble for you this night"
Tag:
@thschrist1
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mindofhills · 8 years ago
Text
Love at the back of a classroom // Liam Dunbar
Pairing: Liam Dunbar x reader
Requested: I wish it was (you can send me requests 😊)
Warning: kissing, cursing
Word count: I have no idea.
A/N: I wanted to do a diffrent story. Not smut, just an imagine. Yes, there’s some kissing here and there. I thought it would be great to do something “clean”. My part 4 of my series Will be up tomorrow. I hope you guys will love it as much as i loved writing it. (I’ll add GIFs tomorrow. I’m uploading it on my phone and my data is dead so bare with me, please) Happy reading x
Here I was. At lunch with my best friends. Mark, Cody and Ryan. I know it’s weird that I’m a girl and I don’t have a girl bestie, but it’s okay. Mark is my girl bestie. He’s as gay as you can imagine. He does his makeup better than I do mine. Every morning he curls his lashes up to Jesus.
I was biting to my sandwich, daydreaming about the cool squad of Beacon Hills High School. “Hey, Y/N! Back to Earth, please!” Cody said waving his hand in front of my face. “Are you dreaming abou that boy again?” Ryan asked me. I blushed, I really was dreaming about him. “Girl, you ain’t gonna get that dick if you keep sitting here.” Mark ponted out in Marks way.
“You don’t have to say it like that.” I replied to him. “It’s true, Y/N.” Cody said and I knew it was, but what the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t go and flirt with him. He’s with Scott for the love of God. There’s only two options in my case a) he likes me or b) I make a total fool of myself.
Me: “Are you guys crazy? I’m not going to talk to him. He’s..” Cody: “He’s what!? He’s an human being. So what if he hangs out with Scott and Stiles.” Mark: “Let’s just all take a moment and talk about them. Jesus take the wheel!
We all started laughing and there he was. Sitting to a tabel right next to us. My heart started pounting like crazy. For a second I thought he heard my heart beat, because he looked at me and smirked. I almost fainted. Cody poked me and winked at me. They started laughing at me. “You guys suck!” I said, took my food and stood up. “Baby, don’t go! We’re sorry.” Cody said crabbing my hand.
I sat back down and then it hit me. “I have to go!” “What happened?” Ryan asked me. “It’s a new semester today and my English teacher wants us to change seats every semester and today we habe to do it. I don’twant to sit next to Jared. He pukes way too often for a teenager.” I was worried sick and the bell rang. Liam stood up and left the tabel with his friends.
“Baby, don’t worry. If you have to sit next to him text us.” Cody said. “And then what?” I asked them. “We’ll come and help you out.” Mark said. “That’s what best friends are for, Y/N.” Ryan said smiling softly. “Thank you, guys. Love you all. Bye!” I said and stood up they all blowed me a kiss.
I went to my locker crabbed my stuff and went to class. I opened the door and my heart dropped. Only one seat was left empty and it was next to Jared. Great. I sat next to him, he smiled. I smiled back, took my phone and texted to our group. They promised to do something. Next thing you know my English teacherwalk next to me. “Y/N. What are you doing?” “Miss..I’m so sorry. It just my mom..” “Your dad texted me and said he want you to sit in the middle of our classroom. I do not know why, but change your seats with Stiles.”
I looked who Stiles sat with, of course. Liam Dunbar. The cutest guy I have ever met. Stiles took his things, smiled and winked at Liam. He came over to me and said: “Y/N, Good luck with him!” and patted me on my shoulder.
Why does Stiles Stilinski know my name? Weird.
I took my backpack and walked over to Liam. I looked at him smiled softly and sat down. I took my phone out and texted to Cody.
OMG!!! NOT SITTING WITH JARED!! LOVE YOU, BABY!!!😘😍 XOXO
I put my phone down and opened my textbook. I leaned down to my bag and took a pencil out of it. “Your boyfriend replied.” he said. I was lost for words and just looked at him. He smiled. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” I answered. He looked suprised and also happy. “Cody is not you boyfriend?” He asked me and I shook my head. I opened my phone and looked, what he texted me.
Good for you. Love you too, baby x
Of course. Not all call their friends , who are boys by nicknames. I started writing and then turned my head at Liam. “Why do you care though?” I asked him with a smirk. He blushed. “Just curious.” he answered,but that didn’t satisfy me. “Why?” I asked again while writing down some shit on the board and clanced over at him. His face was red. I laughed. “Just study. Can you do that?” he asked with a bit of anger in his voice. “Okay. Rude.” I said and turned back writing. I saw Stiles in the corner of my eye and I heard him whisper: “What the fuck are you doing?!?” I looked at him and he almost fell down and quickly turned around. I rolled my eyes and looked at the time.
I felt a tap on my leg. “What?” I asked Liam being kinda rude to get back at him. “Sorry, that I was rude.” he said playing withapencil in his sexy hands.
“Apology accepted.” I whispered at him and winked. “It’s just…um….I…….You. Fuck. Okay!” he turned around to look straight to my face. I raised my eyebrow not getting a thing that was going on in here.
“Y/N.” he said softly. I was suprised by the fact that he knew my name. “Liam.” I answered and he smiled. “I’ve been in this school for a year now and since the day I walked in here all I’ve been thinking about is you. You’re so beautiful. I like you a lot, Y/N.” he said while teacher was talking abou something, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was him liking me. He looked nervous so I couldn’t resist and I kissed him. He relised, what was happening and kissed me right back. He crabbed me by my waist and pulled me closer to him.
We stopeed kissing, when we heard a chair fall. It was Stiles. He had jumped up and yelled: “ WE DID IT!”. I looked at Liam thinking that he knew, whar was going on, but he was as confused as everyone in this classroom.
“Y/L/N and Dunbar. If you want to keep kissing then you have to leave me classroom.” I guess she thought that we would feel guilty,but we didn’t. We took our things, Liam crabbed my hand and we left the classroom. We stood by the lockers and I just looked at him. “You like me?” he asked after a moment of silence.
“I do. As soon as you walked in that door.” he smiled at me and put my hair behind my ear. “Love to hear that.” he whispered in my ear and kissed me. The feeling of kiss lips against mine made me fall even harder for him. His hands on my waist slowly caressing my sking. I took his hands and placed them on my ass. He smiled to the kiss and crabbed it.
I had to pull away from our kiss, because of the burning sensation in my lungs. Our foreheads still touching. Then I heard claping. Mark, Cody, Ryan, Stiles, Scott, Lydia, Isaac, Allison and Mason were all standing next to us. They were laughing and clapping. Lydia was snapping all of it.
“What’s going on?” Liam asked them. They all looked at each other. “We kinda helped you guys out.” Scott said. “Yeah, we knew you guys were afraid to talk to each other. I mailed to your English teacher and told her that I was you dad.” Stiles said and winked at me.
“How did you guys know that we liked each other?” I asked them. “We were at a party and it just came up. We decided to help our best friends out.” Mark said. “Welcome to our pack!” Scott said to me.
I just looked at Liam and he smiled. “I need to thank them. Later” he said and kissed me. They all were screaming and chearing at us. At that moment I knew. I knew I was in love with him and nothing could help me with these feelings. I was dating Liam Dunbar now. The cutest and a popular boy of my school. He pulled away and looked me deeply in my eyes. His eyes had never been so beautiful and so full of lust. He leaned down to my ear.
“I fell in love at the back of my English class.” he whispered.
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decadentenemyturtle · 6 years ago
Text
Shore of shocked mind
Promt 5 of @sdavid09 ‘s writing challenge.
Summary;  Everyone has bad days at time to time, but today Hank seems to have one of his worst days.
Words: 1134
Pairing; Hank x Reader
Warnings; Major description of violence and character’s death!
"Damn it" Hank curses silently as he holds his gun up. His hands are shaking a little from the cold as he didn't have a jacket and the pouring rain isn't helping. "God fucking damn it"
This was suppose to be normal pick up from the mall, some middle aged man had stolen an smartphone from the store but he was caught on the act. Then, when the police had come to pick him up - as in, Hank and his partner Dylan Reed - the man had pulled small knife from his jacket's hidden pocket and started to fling around before stapping the guard to his shoulder and then he had fled. 
Hank and Dylan had ran after him, while the guard had alarmed more help from the 911, before getting some help for his bleeding shoulder.
The thief had ran into an allie between the two last houses on the street, Dylan running after him and Hank going around from the corner to meet up with the guy. Or at leas he was suppose to do so. But something had gone wrong as he heard Dylan screaming, not shouting but screaming in pain. Heart in his stomach Hank ran harder to the aley, just in time to see Dylan collapsing to the ground, knife sticking out of his neck as red blood ran down to his neck and under his uniform, coloring it darker than the rain did.
For a few horrifying seconds Hank stops, his heart dropping to his feet. The thief had been standing there, staring Dylan, also seeming to be in some sort of shock. He was the first regain his composure and he turned to run away from Hank, not bothering to take the knife. Hank curses, lifts the gun and shoots the man to the leg. Then he calls for aid via his radio while walking towards Dylan and the man.
"A police has been stapped by mall thief in alley around 600 meters to East from Rooster's mall. He is probably already dead" Hank has to take an shaky breath before he continues "I've shot the chased thied to leg and he is wounded"
"Copy that, two ambulances and another patrol car are on their way" a male voice says before the radio goes silent. Hank stops next Dylan, looking down at him, his heart breaking. He hadn't moved a muscle after he had collapsed. Hank didn't need to check his pulse to know he was dead, yet he did it. Sighing and holding the tears in Hank glared the man.
This was his fault. Hank thinks, yet he holds back from mouling the man to death.
The thief is trying to crawl away from the scene, which looks and is pretty pitiful. There was nowhere he could go and he moved so slowly that Hank didn't need to run after him. So he walks casually after him, pointing his gun to the thief.
"Don't you fucking move" Hank growls and the man stops, turning to look at him. His grey eyes are big as plates and he whines.
"I-I didn't mean to... I didn't mean kill him" he shrieks, but Hank just growls. Of course they never meant to. But it doesen't help now, Dylan was dead. Hank's heart tightens, when he thinks about Dylan's wife Susan and their two kids, 7 years old Jamie and 3 years old Jim. Someone had to tell them, probably Hank himself or lieutnant Walsh. Hank crouches next to him, still pointing a gun to him, and presses the shot wound. A siren's voice cuts the air and few seconds later there are blue lights clearing the dark alley. 
"There they are!" female voice calls. Hank clances quickly to the street where he had come from and sees two ambulance workers running towards Dylan, crouching next to him only to note that they were too late, not that Dylan would have had any chances to survive. The knife had cut open the arteria and he had died almost immediatly. Still, they both stand up to get the strecher to move him. While the two ambulance workers are moving Dylan to the strecther, other ambulance and police car stop to the alley. When two later arrived ambulance workers are close enough to Hank, he turns to address them.
"Shot him on the leg, but other than that he should be fine" he says, trying to sound calm. Two males comes next to him, nodding to Hank who stands up, letting them do their work. Then he turns to look at the other police officer, Arnold Cass, who is standing a bit further from them. The other officer, Fiona Doyle, is already talking with the ambulance workers who took Dylan. Then she takes a step back, nods to them and they climb to the ambulance, leaving from the scene, while Fiona turns and comes to Hank and Arnold.
"I'm sorry, officer Anderson, officer Reed didn't make it" she says, looking sad. Hank lets out an sob like sigh and looks down. He knew Dylan didn't make it, but to hear it from Fiona... Jeesus, they were suppose to go to have a drink after the shift! And go to watch icehockey on Saturday!
"Hank, let's make a report from this at the station and then you'll go home. Alright?" Arnold offers. Hank blinks and looks up to him, nodding slowly.
   Finally, nearly three hours later, Hank is home. The others at the station had been shocked and broken after hearing that Dylan was dead. Hank had had to go to the toilet to calm down and the others took the glue from that to drop their "I'm sorry for losing your partner and friend" bullshit. Writing the report had been like Hell and meeting the lieutnant Walsh, who had been pretty elowuent when he had bid his "I'm sorry for your loss".
You, after hearing the front door opening and closing, come to the hallway only to see broken looking Hank putting his jacket away. Something was wrong, very very wrong, you knew it. Cautiounsly you walk towards him. Hank turns to you, his eyes being buffy and red. He had been crying.
"Honey, what's wrong?" you ask and Hank's lips start to quiver as tear goes down his cheek. He opened his mouth to answer but a sob interrupted him. You walked right in front of him and threw your arms over his neck to pull him to a hug.
"Dylan's dead" Hank sobs. You felt your heart dropp. Dylan Reed, Hank's partner, had died?
"Oh no. I'm so sorry, honey" you whisper to him, dropping your other hand to stroke Hank's back. For a long time you two just stand there, Hank sobbing while silent tears fell from your eyes.
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