#deserve it and hates how guilty it makes him feel. so even after he commands she stops she still wears sheer veils. its better than nothing

[dirtytransmasc]

Alicent, exhausted, being forced to present her son to Viserys, panic in her eyes, hoping he is good enough for her husband:

[gucciforasushirestaurant]

The Look

summary: its awards season. meaning glits, glam, and harry looking like a total snack at events.

word count: 8.8K (i got carried away 😬)

read time: 37 min

content warning ⚠️: D/s dynamics, MAJOR DADDY KINK, subspace, dom space, dd/lg (if you squint), (filthy) dirty talk, mild & sweet degradation, pet names (love, lovie, baby, baby girl, good girl, baby love), possessive!harry (if you squint), anal play (plugs), nipple clamps, light bondage (if you squint), spanking, paddling, (mention of flogging/ a flogger), fingering, ring kink (is this a thing? sure.), hand kink, light choking, manhandling (kind of), unprotected sex (and the mess that comes with it), (slight) hair pulling. If I messed something let me know!

a/n: I saw this picture of Rihanna looking at A$AP Rocky like she was about to suck the soul out of that man in front of all those people….and then I wrote this. and I'll do it again lol. Enjoy! 😉

You were bored, and beyond ready to go home. You hated award season, selfishly. You knew what it meant for Harry, and you were always so proud of him, and his accomplishments. But dammit did you hate all that came along with it. Dressing up and cameras, let alone the interviews. You’d only ever get a question or two thrown at you,but regardless, you were not built for it.

But Harry, he was a natural born star. He didn’t love the attention all of the time, but you knew him well enough to know that he did get a bit of a kick out of the attention. And he knew how to handle it far better than you ever could. It made you feel all the more guilty when all you wanted to do was stay home, cook a nice meal together and watch your shows. But you were nothing if not supportive, always taking one for the team, even if the team was just Harry. “It’s just a few hours,” you’d tell yourself. “Just a few hours and then I can have him all to myself the rest of the night.”And that’s what you told yourself, and that's how you ended up here, at some after party, in a dress, vacuum sealed to your body in heels that feel like stilts, and a little too tipsy from the free-flowing champagne.

Harry had just gotten off the small stage,giving a speech about…something. And while you were so proud of him, and how he commanded a room, you hadn’t heard a word he said. You were too busy gawking at your charming, devilishly handsome boyfriend.

Harry works his way through the crowd, eyes locked on you and dimples popped as he tries his best to make it to your side. He’s stopped a few times, gives some pleasantries before he’s by your side again, kissing your temple.

“You, alright?” he asks. You nod with a hum, looking up at him over your champagne flute.

“Why are you looking at me like that,” Harry smirks, wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you in. Harry knows the look, it's a look you only ever give him when you're in one of your moods. And it usually precedes you sucking the soul out of him.

“Like what?” you ask, earnestly.

“Right,” He chuckles, eyes looking down at your lip tucked between your teeth.

“What? I’m not looking at you like anything!” You defend, leaning up to kiss his cheek. And then it dawns on him.

You don’t even realize just how you’d been looking at him. All pout, and doe eyes, begging to be fucked and taken care of like you deserve.

“Nothing, honey.” He places a hand on your cheek smirking before leaning and kissing your forehead. “Let’s head out, hm? You look tired.”

“I’m fine! We can stay.” you lie, grateful that he’s suggested you head out early.

“Baby,” he says with a smile, but his tone is the one that makes your legs feel like Jell-O, “We’re going home. I did my obligation. I’ll go get the car. You meet me out front, after you’ve said your goodbye to everyone alright?” He asks, but it’s more like a demand.

You nod with a smile, finishing your drink. He kisses the top of your head, and you watch him make his exit.

*****

“You sounded great up there, Har.” You smile reaching for his hand resting on the shift. He laces your fingers together, kissing by the back of your hand.

“Thanks, Baby Love.” he says with a gentle smile. He pulls up to a red light, looking over at you. “You looked gorgeous tonight baby.”

“You’ve said that already.” you giggle, feeling your cheeks warm up. You lean your head back against the headrest, nibbling at your bottom lip, “A few times actually.”

“And I meant it every time I said it. And I mean it now.” he smirks.

“You look good too.” you smirk.You reach your hand up to his hair at the name of his neck, playing with the curls there. “Your hair looks nice like this. It’s very 90’s Leo.” You giggle and he smirks.

“Yeah? ‘S that a good thing?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod, “and I like this.” You say reaching over tugging on the shirt he’s wearing. It’s a black semi sheer top, with some lace detail. It’s simple, but paired with the jewelry and the fact that you can see his tattoos peeking through…you were more than pleased with tonight's outfit.

“I thought you might.” He turns his head to kiss your palm that’s made it to his cheek, giving it two spongy kisses.

The light turns and his attention is back on the road, so you watch the side of his face instead. Watch his dimple poke as he smiles. “It was written all over your face.” He chuckles after a few moments.

“What was?” You ask brows furrowed

“Those filthy thoughts of yours.” You don’t say a word, just clear your throat, nibbling on your bottom lip and turning your head looking forward. Harry looks over, eyes boring into the side of your face with a smirk. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me what filthy thoughts were going on in that pretty head of yours. Hmm?”

“Noth-” you start.

“Don’t lie to me, you know what happens when you do.” You swallow thickly looking over at him. For the second time tonight he’s used that tone. That dominant tone that only ever comes out when you ///play/// together. And it’s got you feeling all out of sorts. You squeeze your thighs together trying to soothe the ache that's sprung up between your thighs. “Tell me.” He presses once more.

“Just….thinking about playing with your hair….while you’re between my legs.” you whisper nervously.

You’d been with Harry for a while now. And you've never been shy about discussing intimacy. But when he put on that voice, and with his hand heavy on your thigh, it always seemed to make you bashful.

“And?” he prompts. Harry knows there's more, there's always more with you. “My little minx” Harry always joked.

Really he just wanted to work you up. Get you as frustrated, and hot and bothered as he could, because he had plans for tonight. Harry was finally going to reward you for being such a good girl, for him. Not just tonight and stomaching yet another event, but for all of awards season. You’ve always hated the cameras and parties. You’ve hated sharing him with the world. Selfish yes, but he felt the same about you. He couldn’t fathom how you felt every year around this time when he had to be ‘Harry Styles’ and not just your Harry, being ‘on’ all the time and away from you. But, you’ve been so good, and he knows he hasn’t been as attentive as he should be these last few months, so he was finally going to give you all the attention he’s deprived from you lately. All the attention you’ve been too shy, or scared to ask for.

“Your rings.” you finally blurt out.

“What about them?”

“I was thinking….” you pause trying to figure out the least crude way to phrase it,“About feeling them on my ass. I like when you spank me with them, and I like feeling them when…when you finger me too. It's nice.”

“You want me to spank you baby?”Harry asks cautiously. You nod your head slowly. “Why?” he asks, brows furrowed, with only a bit of concern “Did you do something to earn you a spanking?”

You and Harry were no strangers to spanking, or playing rough. But they were usually only reserved for your punishments, or ‘punishments’ as you so dubbed them, as you quite liked the feeling of Harry’s hands on you.

“Maybe.” you purred.

Now he’s intrigued. This was about teasing you before you got home. But now? This was about playing the game. His favorite game, yours too. He snaps his head toward you as you approach another red light.

“Maybe?” he quips, “You either broke a rule, or you didn't, baby? Which is it?”

You take a moment, trying to figure out which way to play it, which way would get you what you wanted most. You could continue to play coy, could lie, or you could be honest.

You chose the latter.

“I did.” you coo, biting your bottom lip.

“Hmm,” He hums, leaning over the center console to get a better look at you. Your eyes were a bit glassy already, a look you only ever got when the two of you played. When you were feeling submissive. “And what rule would that be?”

You look down at his hand that found its way from your thigh to become tangled with yours, twirling the ‘H’ and ‘S’ rings on his fingers. “No panties.” You mumbled.

He heard you, but he really enjoyed making you repeat things, especially if he knew that you were a little embarrassed. “Louder baby. And look at me.” he demands softly.

“I’m not wearing any panties.”

“No?” He mocks. You shake your head as the light turns green. Harry smirks at you, before, slowly pressing the accelerator, eyes back to the road.

“Why would you do that, baby? Go to such an important event, a room full of people with no panties on?” he asks. He knows why, or at least he suspects. But he wants to hear you say it. Likes to tease you, yes, maybe humiliate you a little for being his perfect little slut.

“I was thinking about the last time. Last week and how we…snuck away.”

He smirks looking over at you, with lust filled eyes he lifts your hand to his lips and kisses the back of your hand again. He remembers it fondly, as one of the best quickies you’ve had. Definitely the riskiest you’ve ever been, and he’s not stopped thinking about it since. And apparently neither have you.

“You didn’t wear any panties so it would be easier for me to fuck you in the bathroom again? Is that it?” he probed.

“Yes,” you squeak.

Harry stops at another red light. Cursing the fact that it seems they’ve not made a single one on your ride back. He looks over at you, dimples out, eyes dark with lust. “You like being a slut in public baby?” You nod. Chewing on your bottom lip. He reaches up, and pulls it from your teeth, running his thumb over it. “Why didn’t you ask, hmm? You know how to ask for what you want?” You shrug and squeeze your thighs tighter together. Harry takes notice and presses further, “Instead you were looking at me like a cock drunk whore.” he tuts, “In front of all those people. If I saw it, you know everyone else did too. Don’t you,sweetheart?”

“I didn’t - I don’t know.” You pouts

“It’s okay baby.” he chuckles, “I’ll take care of you when we get home okay. We’re almost there.

“Yes Sir.” you say, with a dopey grin. The honorific just slipped out, before you realized. You may have been slightly embarrassed if it weren't for the promise of what’s to come later tonight.

“Good girl.” He praises, leaning over the consol. He kisses you once, twice, and then a third time before you hear honking behind you.

Harry pulls away from your kiss, seeing the lights turned. There’s another impatient honk before Harry pulls off muttering an “asshole” under his breath, looking in the rear view mirror. You look out your window. Trying to keep yourself from moving around too much as Harry’s hand rested on your thigh, lightly massaging it.

The ride is quiet for a while, as you try to focus on not squirming, and imagining what’s in store for the night before Harry speaks again, voice all rough and authority,“You are getting punished first. You know that, don’t you baby?”

You look at him and nod your head, “Mhmm.” you hum.

Once you’ve finally pulled into the drive at home, Harry has pretty much fully entered his own Dom space and you're slipping deeper and deeper by the second into subspace. When you enter the house, he stops you at the bottom of the stairs reaching for your hand to turn you around. He cradles your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks, “I’m gonna grab some things for the night, and lock up the rest of the house. I want you on the bed in position, in nothing but this,” he says playing with the gold pendant ‘H’ around your neck “and then we’ll start. Okay?.”

You smile up at him, a warm rush going through your body, and nod. “Words, please. And repeat the instructions, for me.” he encourages.

“Go upstairs, sit in a position with only my necklace.”

“Good girl.” He smirks, grabbing your chin and kissing you deeply. He pulls away, you chasing after his lips, “No,” he tuts playfully, “Upstairs. Go.” he nods behind you towards the stairs behind you. You turn, Harry giving a light tap to your ass as you scurry up the staircase.

You’re quick to rid yourself of the uncomfortable costume of ‘celebrity girlfriend’, stripping down to nothing other than the gold necklace as promised. You sit center of the bed on your calves, hands resting on your thighs as you wait for Harry to join you.

He does as per his routine, locking up the house, and grabbing a your nightly water bottle for when you wake in the middle of the night. He does the extra task of grabbing you a snack and a few extra water bottles for the night.

When he passes the threshold of your bedroom his heart skips a beat at the sight of you, naked in the center of your bed, kneeling so pretty for him. But he doesn’t let it show. In fact he ignores you, as he enters the room, not giving you anything more than a glance. Your eyes remained trained on him as he moved through the room.

First to his side of the bed, placing the items he’d brought up with him, before heading over to your dresser, taking off his watch, and setting it in the little dish there. But you note that his rings you love so much remain on. He saunters into your walk-in closet and stays there for far too long in your opinion. Taking his time to get into his unofficial uniform for nights like this. He emerges in nothing but the same pair of relaxed fit dark denim wash jeans, that hug in all the right places, and his rings. Your favorite small velvet red box in one hand. And a leather paddle in the other.

Finally, after waiting what feels like forever, Harry strides over to you, standing at the end of the bed, placing the box on the corner of it. It had only a few things in it by the sound of it, but you still were tingling with anticipation. Without saying a word he jesters for you to come closer to him, with his finger. You knee walk your way over, sitting back on your calves with your hands resting on your thighs. You look at him with a pout, and he smiles.

“Hi baby.”

“Daddy -” you whine, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. You were already getting a punishment, you didn’t want to make it worse.

“Oh, Baby Love,” Harry coos, and you whimper just happy to finally have his attention on you. He cradles your face in his hands, and you lean into his touch. “I’m right here.” He strokes your cheeks with his thumb, and places kisses on your forehead, each cheek, tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You whine into the kiss, and attempt to deepen the kiss, but he pulls away with a tisk. “Nuh uh,no. Punishment, remember.” He smirks, hand traveling down to your neck, stroking the side of it with his thumb.

“Yes Daddy,” you pout.

He reaches over, taking the lid off the velvety box and you peek inside.Inside isn’t your entire collection,not by a long shot. The box is nothing more than the ‘goodie bag’ he makes, everytime you play. Picking up a few things from the big red chest from the back of your closet that held everything ropes, to plugs, to clamps, and lube.

Tonight seemed to be quite the selection, and your pussy was clenching at the sight of the items. You watch him lay a few things beside you. Some nipple clamps with a chain connecting the two. He loved to pull on those while he railed you, and a pink glass plug with a rose on the end, and lastly some lube.

He puts a finger under your chin forcing him to look up at him.

“You know why you're getting a punishment tonight?” he asks.

“Yes”

“Tell Daddy, then.”

“Because I didn’t wear any panties.” .

“And?” he probed, eyebrows quirked up.

“And I ….” your mouth opens and closes a few times, trying to get the words out, but nerves taking over.

“Go on,” he chuckles, amused. He loved watching you get all worked up. But seeing just how worked up you are without him hardly touching you had him realize just how badly you needed him.

“I didn’t ask for you to take care of me when I was needy….I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head kissing your cheek, “It’s okay baby. I’m not mad, but I still gotta punish you, okay?” You nod your head, lip tucked between your teeth, “And you know your words if it becomes too much?”

“Red or watermelon to stop, and yellow if I need you to slow down, or if I need to talk to you about something.” you say quietly, and he smiles proudly. .

“Good girl.” he praises, one hand on your neck, the other caressing your cheek, “And your color right now?”

“Green.” You rush out leaning into his touch.

“Very good baby.” He reaches down and picks up the nipple clamps, “We’re gonna start with these, okay?”

“Wait! You gasp, eyes wide.

“You, okay?”

“Yeah. I just - can I touch you. Please?” you asked, and Harry smirks.

“What do you mean baby?”

“Can I kiss you, please?” you whisper. He nods, a little taking hold of your hands, bringing your arms around his neck, as he rests his hands on your waist and kisses you. He allows the make out session for a while, your hands tangled in his hair, while he gropes your ass, and massages your tits, pulling at your nipples, preparing them for the clamps. You moan into the kiss, pushing your hips into his. He allows it once but the second time he pulls away from the kiss making you moan.

“That’s enough baby. Be good, you’re already getting punished, hm?”

“Okay.” you pout.

Harry picks up one of the clamps, leaning down sucking your right nipple into his mouth before he places the clamp. You hiss at the sensation and the combination of the look in your eye, and the sounds you make, make his cock twitch in his jeans. “Good?” he questions.

“Yes.” you sigh with a nod. He leans over to your left breasts, bringing it to his mouth and doing the same as he did with the left. Once the clamps were in place, he lightly pulled on the chain dangling in the center, enjoying the little noises that you make as Harry kisses back up your chest to your neck.

“Feelin’ okay, Lovie?”

“Mhmm” you hum. Harry could tell it was getting more difficult for you to find words, you were slipping further and further into subspace and he couldn’t be happier.

“Good.” he states with a smirk, “Good, baby.”

He sits down next to you on the edge of the bed and pats his thigh, “Across my lap,” He purrs, and you do as your told, laying across his lap, your nipples hard and clamped brushing against the softness of the duvet. The sensation made you whimper, and squirm in Harry’s lap.

Harry takes a handful of your ass, squeezing it in warning. “No squirming. You know the rules. Unless you want more spanks, be still.”

“Sorry, Daddy..” You mumble looking up at him over your shoulder.

“Good girl” with your eyes on him still he reaches to the other side of him getting a tube from the box and picking up the pink plug. “We’re doing your plug tonight, okay?” You nod, biting your lip.

The plug is a relatively new addition to your play time, but it was quickly becoming a favorite of yours, and Harry’s too. He knew how much you enjoyed it, and while so far none of this seemed to be much of a punishment, he had plans for you.

“Color?”

“Green.” you stuttered.

“Good. Head down, relax for me okay?” he commanded.

You rest your head on your folded hands in front of you, your head to the side as you take in a shaking breath feeling his hands massage your ass, before slipping a hand between your thighs.

“Messy already baby?”

“Sorry,” you whimper, a little embarrassed at just how wet you were already, from nothing more than nipple clamps, and making out.

“That’s okay,” he coos, “you can’t help it. Can you, baby?” He leans down, placing a kiss on your right cheek.

“No.” You shake your head, “It’s the clamps, and…you looked really good tonight.” you admit shyly.

“So did you, Baby Love.” he smiles, “too bad you were being naughty. I was going to reward you for being so patient the last few months,” he taunts as he rubs up and down your pussy with one hand, massaging your ass with the other. “But now I have to punish you.” He brings some of your wetness to your tighter hole with his thumb massaging the ring of muscle making you moan out. You grip the sheets to keep you from squirming.

He leans down, spitting right at the puckered hole making you cry out. He smears the saliva around slowly prodding at your hole with his thumb while his fingers danced over your leaking pussy.

He hears you moan but ignores it, continuing his work. “You know why I love punishing you baby?”

“Why?”

“Because…it means I get to play with this cute little ass of yours.” He punctuates the sentence with a light spank to your left cheek with his free hand, as he slipped his thumb into your tightest hole.

“Daddy….”

“Shhh baby. I’m right here.” he coos, his hand up your back, comfortingly gripping the back of your neck as he plays with your clit and hole. Pumping his thumb slowly. After feeling you clench around the digit a few times, and your pussy pulse, he removes his thumb, while continuing to rub up and down your folds. He reaches for the lube, opening it.

“This is gonna be a little cold, okay, baby?”

“Okay,” you murmur

He squeezed a rather large dollop onto your hole rubbing it around, before rubbing the pink glass plug up and down your hole.

“Relax for me, and breathe, okay.”

No matter how much you’ve thought you’ve trained your asshole, it was always a stretch. But when Harry did it, he always made sure you were comfortable and there wasn’t any discomfort.

As he slowly works the plug in. Just a bit. Then out again. Then in a little bit more than out. It was maddening. The teasing. You can’t help but squirm. Feeling his erection against you didn’t help either.

“Daddy.” You moan, and Harry spanked you once, but hard.

“Baby,” he warns. “I’m trying to be patient but you’re only going to make this punishment worse. Be good, okay? Take what I give you.”

You know you shouldn’t be enjoying this half as much as you are. This is a punishment, afterall. But he’s finally giving you the attention you’ve been craving for weeks, and you can’t help but to make your request anyway. “More, please.” you squeaked

“More?” He teases. All you wanted was to feel the stretch of the plug, but he was taking things so painfully slowly.“You want to be filled up, Baby Love?”

“Yes.” you moan, “please.”and you jump as another spank lands onto your ass. The mix of pain and pleasure was almost maddening as it was becoming more difficult to focus on coming up with words, as your whole body was a light with pleasure.

“Be patient.” Harry tuts, “We gotta work it in baby, you want Daddy’s cock in there one day don’t you?”

The thought alone makes you squirm, and whine in Harry’s lap.“Yes” you moan.

“Then we have to go slow. You can barely fit this little guy, how do you expect to take Daddy’s big cock without any practice?” He reaches up, tangling his fingers in the hair at the back of your head, forcing you to look at him. “Answer me baby”

“I don’t know.” you whimper, nibbling at your bottom lip.

You were deep into subspace now, and he knew answering was getting more and more difficult for you. All the more reason to tease you. Harry smiles devilishly, caressing your face, “I know baby. That’s okay. But I need you to take what I give you, and stop complaining. Or your spanking is going to be worse. Do you want the flogger?”

You actually wouldn’t mind the flogger. You loved the thud of the heavy leather strips striking your back, but you shake your head, deciding it’s in your best interest to do as Harry says.

“Alright then, if you want to be full you have to be patient.”

You lay your head back down on your folded hands, and let out a deep breath, closing your eyes in an attempt to focus on the feeling of the plug teasing your ass. It was only a few more in’s and out’s before your ass accepted the plug, sucking it in allowing you to let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of being so deliciously full.

“There you go sweetheart,” Harry smiles tapping the rose at the end of the plug, the vibrations it sent through you making you let out a deep groan. “What do we say?” he prompts, spanking each of your cheeks.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you whine.

He massages your ass for a moment before a hand travels back down to your folds. “Even messier now, baby.” He leans down kissing your ass, teeth sinking into the flesh. “Such a good fucking girl. And so pretty, all plugged up.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome baby.” Harry chuckled darkly. He picks up rubbing the smooth leather across each cheek very lightly tapping it on each one. Just to prepare you for the sensation.

“You remember the rules about the paddle?” Harry asks, running it over your ass lightly. You nod your head, looking over your shoulder at him, “Tell me.”

“Count each one, and say thank you after.” you

“Good girl.” He smiles proudly. “How many do you think you deserve?”

“Ummm -” you nibble on your lip, trying your hardest to think straight. “Ten?”

“That’s adorable, baby…You’re getting twenty.”

You groan, burrowing your face into the sheets. Squirming in his lap, earning another harsh spank.

“Twenty-five.” Harry amends sternly.

“Wha - why?!” you mumble

“Ten for not wearing panties. Ten for not telling me how needy your greedy little pussy was tonight. And five because you won’t stop squirming after I’ve already warned you twice, Lovie.”

You let out a little moan but nod your head. It seemed fair, but it was gonna push your limits, as it’s five more than you’ve ever done. But you could do it, and you’ll probably enjoy it more than you should.

“Got it?”

“Yes, Daddy.” you confirm.

“Good girl. What’s your color?”

“I’m Green.”

“Alright. I’m going to start, now okay?” Harry warns, and you give him a nod.

The first one lands on your right cheek hard. Harder than you anticipated, and it makes you cross your legs.

“One! Thank you.” you wince.

“No,no.” He says prying your legs open open again, landing a light spank onto your drenched folds. “Keep them open.” Harry warns, massaging the warmth of your cheek before giving you the next strike.

“Two. Thank you.”

The strikes continue just like that. The paddle makes contact, alternating between cheeks, you count and give thanks. While he massages between each one. Some come in quick succession. Some are spaced out, making you moan in anticipation. There’s no real pattern and it keeps you on edge in the best way.

“Twenty. Thank you sir” you whimper, looking over your shoulder. Hoping maybe he’d forget about the last five if he saw you. There’s a few tears now, not so much from the pain of the paddle, just…everything. With each strike of the paddle, the plug jiggles giving you a pleasure so deep you can’t describe. You're desperate and so floaty, deep in subspace and more than anything you just really want to cum!. You just want it to get to the reward part of the night. But you are a good girl, so you stayed still, took your punishment, opting for a tight grip on the sheets rather than squirming around in Harry’s lap.

“Good girl. Baby. You're doing such a good job taking your punishment. So good for me, baby.” He praises, soothing the warm skin with his large palm. “What’s your color?” He checks in, when he sees your eyes glass and teary.

“I’m still green,” you whisper

“Okay. Turn around, we’re almost done.”

He doles out the rest of your spanks quickly, not giving you much time to count. But you try your best anyway.

“Twenty five. Thank you sir.” you sigh, letting out a deep breath

“Good girl!” He praises. He tosses the paddle to the side, pulling you up to have you sitting in his lap, knees on either side of his hips. He places a hand protectively at the back of your neck making you look up at him. He’s smiling like an idiot, so proud of you and you can’t help but crack a smile just as proud of yourself for taking your punishment so well.

He nods between you towards his right thigh “Look at that baby.” you look down seeing a dark spot on his jeans. Your brows knit together, before your eyes meet Harry’s again, “That’s you, baby.”

“Oh.” you mumble a little embarrassed. “Sorry.” You whisper trying to bury yourself into his neck but he stops squeezing your cheeks together with one hand, forcing your eyes on his.

“Nothing to be sorry about. You just need Daddy to make the aching go away, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you pout trying to grind your hips down into him, but Harry stops you, with a firm hand on your hip.

“Yeah, I know.” he takes the hand squishing your cheeks, snaking it down between the two of you pinching your already clamped nipple once before his fingers finally - finally make contact with your folds. You moan out. Resting your head on Harry’s shoulder, burying your face in his neck, as his hand travels up and down your folds, spreading your wetness.His free arm, secured around your waist, holding you upright.

Harry turns his head, lips pressed against your ear,“There you go baby. That feels so good hm? You like my fingers on your clit.” his fingers slow to a stop, not satisfied with your lack of response, subspace or not, “Talk to Daddy, Love.”

“Yes! So much. It’s so good -”

“Eyes on me,” he demanded, pulling your face out of his neck, trying your best to keep your eyes open, as he worked his magic on your clit. As soon as your eyes meet his, he sinks his middle finger inside. The coolness of his rings against your folds makes you shiver. He works it in for a moment before selfishly adding his ring finger into the mix. You both groan as your pussy greedily accepts a second finger. “Fuck baby, you’re suckin’ me in.” He leans forward sucking on your neck. Nibbling on your ear as he pumps faster. Curling them just right, “that feel good?”

“Mhmm. Oh, fuck,” you wine gripping ong his shoulder a hand in his hair tugging the way you know he likes. The way you’ve been craving all night.

You’re already so full. The plug was still firmly placed in ass, sitting heavy as you sat straddling him, his thumb working on your clit…it was almost too much! You were right on the edge of ecstasy when Harry inserted yet a third finger, methodically working on your G-spot.

“Shit! Daddy, I’m -” you cry out, looking down at his fingers going in and out of you, and the sight alone is enough to send you over the edge. Everything was catching up to you now, Harry’s fingers stuffing your pussy, the plug snug in your ass, the clamps tight on your nipples. You just needed one more thing.

“I want you to cum on my fingers baby,okay? Be good and show me how good it feels, and fucking come on my fingers.” The groan you let out is almost too raw, one of pure ecstasy. Then he says the thing that just about sends you over the edge. “Come on, my rings baby.”

“Daddy….” you whine,you were so close. So so close but you didn’t want it like this. You want to feel Harry. All of him. “No.” You whimper, causing him to pull away slightly, to get a good look at you.

“No? You don’t want to come baby? Since when does my greedy girl not want to cum?” He doesn’t slow his fingers, while his eyes bore into you. Not at all. They speed up, and curl them even more, stroking and prodigy at your G-spot, coaxing you closer and closer.

“Want….cock. Wanna cum on your cock.” You pout trying so hard not to come. And surprisingly you were doing a good job at it. You were historically terrible at holding your orgasms, but tonight seemed to be all about pushing your limits.

Harry smirks, leaning forward sucking your bottom lip in his mouth nibbling on it hard. He’s so hungry for you. Desperate almost. He has to see you come. He craves it.

“You will. Don’t worry.” He gives you another quick peck, “I’ll let you come on my cock. But you gotta give me what I want first. Okay? Gotta be good and come on my fingers first, then I’ll give you what you want.” You whine some more, leaning forward wrapping your arms around Harry tighter, still holding back. He can feel how tense you are, you’ve always been a stubborn girl, even when it’s not in your own best interests, it makes him smirk, a bit before he doubles his efforts on your clit.

“I promise. Baby Girl. Just let go. Show me your a good girl, come on.” He pulls you out of his neck again, hand on your cheek forcing you to look at him. “Let go. I got you. I got you-“ and just like that you're coming in a bright white light, ringing in your ears, and gushing all over Harry’s fingers, with those emerald eyes looking deep into your soul. He feels it too, feels your pussy convulses and gushes around his fingers. Your body tightens up before going completely lax in his lap. “Good fucking girl. There she is. Oh baby there you go so good for me.” You let out a groan unlike anything you’ve ever done before. Gripping at his hair and grinding down on his fingers and your pussy convulses and gushes, around his fingers.He slows them down before slowly withdrawing, tapping your clit softly a few times, for good measure. He brings his hands up to his lips, making a show of licking his fingers clean, before his hand goes back down between your legs, cupping your pussy, reveling in the feeling of it still pulsating with aftershocks as you try to catch your breath.

“Than-thank you Daddy” you hiccup. Kissing his neck.

“Your welcome, baby. You okay?” he asks, and you nod against his shoulder. “Look at me, please baby.” you do as you're told, though finding it difficult to keep your eyes open. “Good baby.” He leans forward kissing you, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips, and it drives you mad. “Hold onto me.” He demands sweetly. You adjust yourself, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. Harry stands up and turns. Setting you back on your feet allows the back of your knees to hit the mattress.

“Lay back on the pillows, for me?” he asks sweetly, with a kiss on your forehead. You nod eagerly, crawling up on the bed, laying out knees bent and feet flat.

Harry’s cock twitches in his jeans at the sight of you. He knee walks his way up the bed. Laying on his stomach, his face level with your pussy, kissing down your thighs, making your breath hitch. You roll your hips up at his hot breath fanning over your wet sensitive lips and Harry smiles.

“Need something?” he chuckles. You open your mouth,closing it quickly, debating on if you want to reveal just how greedy you’re feeling. “Baby…” he prompts, and you give in.

“Mouth. Please?” you whisper, giving your best doe eyes.

“I thought you wanted my cock? Begged for it.”

“That too!” you rush out with a pout.

“I’m only teasing,Lovie,” Harry chuckles, “My greedy girl. Got my fingers now you want both my mouth and cock.” You cover your face, and attempt to close your legs, but fail. Harry kisses up your body, removing your hands from your face, placing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. “Don’t worry baby. I’m gonna give them to you. Punishment is all over. Now I just wanna play with my girl. Give you everything you want. Do you know why?”

“Because I deserve it.” you recite with a smile, like you’ve done so many times before.

“That’s right. You deserve,” Harry kisses your right right cheek, “all the praise,” he kisses your left cheek, “and all the orgasms,” he kisses the tip of your nose, “because your my Good Girl.” he smile before finally locking his lips to yours in a deep kiss, letting out a groan when you get brave and dip your tongue into his mouth.

It’s always been the simple things with Harry that gets to you the most. The way he dresses, how gentle he was with you. The way his lips felt on yours, the way they worked down your neck, not to mention the little noises he makes when you make out with him, and grind up into his hips. It all drove you wild. Just as much as it drove him mad. He craved you like you did him. It was almost like you fed off of one another, the neediness, the pure carnal want for one another. You were perfect together.

Slowly Harry pulls away, kissing down your body, nibbling playfully as he goes until he is situated back between your thighs. Harry reaches for one of your hands at your side, placing your hand in his hair, lacing the other with his. He kisses each thigh, before kissing the top of your mound. He taps on the plug reminding you it’s still there.

“Are you still okay with this in? It’s not uncomfortable?” he asks,and you shake your head.

“No.” you mumble, shaking your hand, “I like it. Feel full.”

“I know.” He leans in lightly kissing your clit. “You have the prettiest pussy baby. You know that? ‘S gorgeous. Could live right here. Between your beautiful thick thighs.”

You let out a whine rolling your hips up impatiently, and Harry jerks his head away, giving you a knowing look, “Sorry. I’ll be still I’m sorry.”

“Good girl.” Harry smiles, kissing your clit lightly once more before finally - finally delving in. Like a starved man, Harry is lapping at your folds up and down the length of your pussy before he sucks your clit into his mouth. Creating a light suction, almost pulsating it, and flicking over it gently with his tongue.

You were in complete bliss, with the way he was eating you out, you’d come in no time, much to Harry’s delight.

“Oh god -” you sigh out, gripping his hair tighter, pulling his face closer to you by the back of his head. “More - please.” If you weren’t feeling as amazing as you were you’d be embarrassed by how desperate you sound.

“That’s my girl!” He moans against you. “Take what you need,Love.” His free hand moves to the plug, slowly pulling it out a tad before pushing it back it fucking you with the toy. All while his mouth kept a vacuum seal around your pussy.

“Daddy…”

“Come on my tongue baby.” He encourages. “Come on baby. Show me how good it feels sweetheart.” He groans right into your pussy as you pull at his scalp, he shakes his head back and forth, the friction and vibration, driving you wild.

It’s filthy and messy and it feels unreal. Before you have a chance to savor the feeling, you're coming in a rush, the coil in your lower belly snapping as you come on Harry’s tongue as requested, body tingling from the sensation.

Harry brings his licks to a slow stop, giving your pussy one final peck, making you shiver. He kisses his way up your body, and you're quick to bring him right back up to your face tasting yourself on his lips.

“Good girl, lovie.” He growls against your lips, “Fuck.” He pins the hand that he’s kept intertwined with his above your head, taking a hold of your other one and doing the same. He works his way down your neck nibbling and sucking on your favorite spot.

When he finally finishes his assault on your neck, he looks down at you to see. Your eyes have gone glassy again, this time, with tears brimming your eyes. He always seems to manage to bring you to tears. It only happens when you’ve been particularly needed, and he makes you feel especially good, but he’s always proud of himself when he can make it happen.

“Oh baby,” He sighs, leaning his weight on your hips grinding into yours. “That felt so good didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you nod.

“I know, baby. Your body’s just so sensitive, huh?” He punctuates it with a pull of the nipple clamp chain you’d nearly forgotten about..

“Yeah Daddy, so sensitive. It’s -I-”

“Shhh I know baby it’s a lot. I’m here tho okay. You're safe. Your okay.” He leans down, kissing you again, not as deep, trying to bring you back up a bit before he continues. He ends the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, rubbing his nose against yours. “What’s your color baby?” he asks.

“Green.” you smile at him, rolling your hips up into his.

“You still want to come on my cock?”

“Yes please Daddy please please please,” you beg, only a little embarrassed.

“Okay. I’ll give it to you. You’ve been so patient.” So have I. Harry thinks.

He lets your wrist go and they instantly tangle in his curls once more, forcing his lips down onto yours. You snake a hand down and attempt to fumble with the buckle of his jeans. “Off. Feel” you mumble between kisses.

“You wanna feel me against you?” he asks, and you nod your head fervently. You loved the feeling of being skin to skin with Harry, you’d never feel closer to him than when you were skin to skin. He manuvores his jeans down and you're happily met with the feeling of him pressed against your folds. Making you both groan out.

“That Better?” he smirks and you smile

“Much.” you smile. Harry reaches for the plug, and begins to tug at it. But you stop him with a whine in protest, “No. Wanna be full.”

“You wanna be fucked with the plug?” He double checks. But by the pout on your lips, he knows you mean it. “Filthy girl.” he smirks, “Alright. I’ll leave it okay?” He’s never fucked you with the plug in, the thought’s been floating around your head for a while, and with how needy you were, you figured tonight would be the perfect night to try.

Harry leans down kissing you with his hard leaking cock in one hand the other cradling your cheek in the other, as he runs the head up and down your folds a few times. He revels in the feeling for as long as you let him, before breaching just the tip inside of your pussy. It’s a tighter fit than usual with the plug still inside, and it takes both of you back. You gasp, a good gasp but he feels you tighten even more.

“Shhh baby relax,” he kisses you all over your face. “You gotta breathe for me, okay?” You nod and let out a breath as he slowly enters you, until he’s fully inside. “Oh good girl. Shit baby. You’re so full, huh?” He groans, kissing your cheek.

“Yeah you squeak oh, so. I’ve never -”

“I know, baby. Oh fuck. I’m just gonna stay like this till you tell me to move okay.” He says as he moves into your neck, kissing and nibbling at the skin there.

After a few moments of Harry sucking onto your neck, you begin to roll your hips up into his, grinding down on his cock, drawing out deep groans from the both of you. He takes it as a sign that you're ready, that you can take him and so he begins to rock his hips with deep shallow thrusts. It allows you to and you relish at the fullness of both Harry’s cock and the pink rose plug. The pleasure is almost too much, it’s got your whole body tingling, and warm.

“Good girl baby. Taking it so well. Fuck.” he growls, leaning his forhead on yours. He slowly draws his hip back further and further before diving back in.

“Harder.” you whine, and Harry grants your request, fucking you harder into the materss, holding onto your hips tight as he pounded into you.

“You feel so good baby, you know that? Do you know how good you make Daddy feel, baby?” he urges. “Your pussy’s like heaven to me baby.” He groans looking, with nothing but love and adoration.

“Gonna come Daddy!”

He picks up his pace, fucking you hard, and fast. The only thing in the room being heard is the sound of skin against wet skin, and your carnal moans. Your fingers in his hair, pulling at the strands as you get closer and closer to the edge once more, before your coming undone again, convulsing under him.

“Atta Girl! Good job baby,"Harry smiles, kissing you passionately, “give me one more.”

“Can’t,” you moan. You’re so sensitive, you feel amazing, but you have no idea how much more you can take. But as Harry grinds down into you, a hand snaking down to your clit, you can feel yourself, getting closer and closer. You don’t think you can stop it. “Can’t Daddy. I- oh god.” Your whole body was a light, as you felt your peak approaching again quickly, gripping onto Harry’s shoulders, holding him to you as you buried yourself in his neck.

“Yes you can,” Harry groans, “Can feel you squeezing me, your pussy’s begging for it. Come for me baby. Come on my cock, like you wanted to,” he caresses your face in one hand, getting your attention, your eyes open to look right at him, “Show me.”

You open your mouth trying to speak, but the words escape you, too wrapped up in the pleasure, But Harry, ever the attentive boyfriend, knows what you were trying to say. to speak but can’t get the words out but he knows what you were trying to say. “You can do it, Baby Girl. Come for me. Give me one more, and let Daddy fill up your pretty pussy. Give it to me baby, so I can give you your come.”

///Your/// come. Yours. That’s what does it for you. It’s what always does it for both of you. The ownership. Because he was just as much yours and you were his. Including orgasms. And just like that you come in a bright white light, ringing in your ears, and tears in your eyes. Loud, and hard, whining in Harry’s ear, writhing underneath him, holding onto him with all your might.

“Good fucking girl. Oh fuck. There you go.” He growls into your ear, before crashing his lips down to yours. “Fuck, baby. You’re going to make me come.”

“Please” you whine holding his face, looking at him deep in those emerald eyes. “ Give it to me, please.” And he’s a goner. Eyes rolled back, body tensing, and thrust going sloppy as he spurts white ropes, painting your walls. And you relish the feeling.

Harry collapses on top of you, burying his face into your neck, kissing and nibbling, giving you praise as you both tried to catch your breath. When he feels that your heart has stopped beating as fast, and he feels himself softening inside of you is when he decides it’s time to pull out. But you resist, tightening your legs around his hips, the hand that’s made its way into his hair tightening.

“Not yet please.” you request with a pout.

“Okay. Okay I’ll stay.” He whispers kissing across your collarbone. “Just a bit longer.”

After enough time has passed, Harry looks up at you, “You with me?” he asks. You hum, eyes closed dopey grin on your lips and he can tell that you’re still in that floaty place, maybe not as deep but you definitely weren’t fully present.

“Daddy…” you whine just above a whisper.

“S’ just Harry baby. Just me.” You pout. You didn’t want to be done, but a look at the clock on your nightstand tells you you've been at it for a while so you try and tell yourself to come back to earth. “You’re okay. I’m here. Hey look at me.” he urges, bringing a hand to your face, “Your safe okay. I’m gonna pull out now and take out the plug and then we’ll get all cleaned up okay?”

“Okay.” you smile. You whine when he pulls out but he soothes you with a kiss to your forehead and a promise of returning soon.

He’s back in a flash with a warm damp cloth and some tissues. “You still feelin’ a little floaty huh, baby?” He smirks as he cleans you up.

“Yeah.”

“That’s okay. Just let me take care of you okay?” you nod and he goes to work on cleaning the mess between your legs. “You did so well tonight baby. Took everything so well. You're my best girl, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s right. He reaches for the plug.

“You gotta relax for me. Gotta get this guy out of ya. Take a break out for me.” he instructs, taking it out slowly before placing it on the nightstand on the tissue. He kisses your inner thigh before kissing his way up your body. “Wrap around me.” he instructs, and you do as you're told, wrapping your arms around him, as he lifts you up and walks you to the bathroom, sitting you on the toilet. “Go on. You know the drill.” he chuckles when you look at him shyly. He turns to the bath, giving you privacy to pee, as he runs the bath. Adding all your smell, good scents and bubbles.

By the type you're all bathed, dried and back in bed, you seem much more like yourself.

“You feeling good?” He asks.

“So good.” you chuckle, “Thank you Harry. I really needed that.”

Harry laughs and kisses your temple, “I could tell. But you never have to thank me for giving you pleasure. It’s an honor to give it to you.”

You feel your face heat up, as you shake your head and burrow yourself into the softness of his chest.”

“Still. I- you always make me feel good and idk I want you to know I love you and I appreciate you making me feel good. Even when I’m getting punished.”

“Love you too, Baby Love.”

✨masterlist✨∣ ✨yap & request box✨

[the-sand-guardian]

Like Fate, Like Death, Like Love (or, Evbo revives Seawatt)

"I suppose I had this coming, didn't I?" Seawatt slumped back against the wall that the Parkour Villain has sculpted. He didn't have much time left and he knew it. He could feel the jester's eyes boring into him as a sharp stabbing pain hit his gut. He pulled his hands from his bleeding stomach and looked up at the former champion. "And for what it's worth, I was telling the truth when I said I enjoyed working with you..."

Evbo's face shifted slightly. His usual look of mild contempt had washed away slightly into one of shock. His mouth fell open slightly and it seemed as though his eyes were glossy too. Seawatt smiled sadly at him before coughing up a bit of blood and finally falling still. Evbo stood frozen in place, staring at the body until it poofed into dust.

He was pulled from his shock by the villain once again. He was sprinting away from him now, and he knew that he had to be stopped.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Seawatt's pain faded away quickly, but the feeling of falling never ceased. It was those dreams where you fall asleep too quickly and your brain thinks that you're dying. Unlike those dreams, he never hit the ground. There was no wind rushing around him. His hair didn't whip around his face. He was just falling through and into nothingness.

All he had left was memories. They played over and over again in his head. Losing his parents. Having to betray Evbo. Seeing his face fall when he realized just what he'd been played into. Instead if that sharp wit and feeling of power he'd initially had, he knew that if he still had his chest it would ache for Evbo. Certainly he'd met a similar fate right now. Hopefully he didn't feel as guilty for his actions.

That was all Seawatt had left to feel. Guilt. Would his parents really have wanted him to destroy everything? How terrible must Evbo have felt when he'd had that awful realization? Had his heart sank to his stomach? Had he felt sick? Had he wanted to scream and throw things and just curl up and die?

He probably had, too. Seawatt knew the way his own stomach had shifted in disgust with himself. Why? Why had he done this to someone so eager to help him? Someone who hated him and STILL chose to be kind? Maybe he deserved this, he thought. It was probably some sort of karma.

And now there was no way to make things right. He wasn't going to get the chance to apologize to him. Evbo and everyone else in Parkour Civilization were going to die and he was fine floating in the void knowing it was all his fault. He could spend eternity with that guilt. It was really the least he could do for him.

But wouldn't it be so nice to apologize, too?

<><><><><><><><><><>

Evbo's feet hit the last block and he turned to face the villain, knowing he'd won. The Villain crumpled into himself and swore as he collapsed much in the way Seawatt had. He had to turn away as he folded into a puddle of his own blood before falling off the block and into the void. Hopefully he'd end up stuck somewhere forever.

Evbo wasn't sure what would come after death, but now with his shiny netherite boots, he wondered if that was something he'd have control over. Maybe he'd even be able to bring back all those noobs who'd died right off the bat, or his neighbor, or...

Of course, he had no idea how to bring someone back from the dead. Hell, he had a lot of work to do before he could even think of it. Fixing everything the Villain had destroyed, freeing the people stuck in Parkour Prison, and rebuilding the levels. Maybe the fighter level would be able to come back eventually.

The possibilities were endless, and he got to work right away. He personally crowned EMF as his successor, since he'd helped him so much. Evbo started to teach him how the command blocks worked, and slowly things began to sprout back up. Things were healing, and people were ranking up. Things were finally going back to the way he thought they should be.

On the seventh day, Evbo rested. The world didn't need saving anymore, and he could relax. He leaned back against the quartz of the Parkour Temple are stared up at the sky. He still wasn't used to just how beautiful everything was up here. Water fell from it sometimes, and at night there were little sparkling specks that dotted all over it. He's dreamt about the sky a lot as a noob, and here he was in full control of it. As he sat in his spot, he let out a small sigh and waved his hand in front of him. He'd been in control of so much, but he still hadn't made things right.

A gust of purple blew from his fingertips like he'd blown sand from his palm. The swirls gathered together, and after a moment, a figure formed. It was trembling, and a sob pushed itself from it's throat, but it was alive. And it was Seawatt. He curled in on himself a little before he froze in place. He put a hand against the quartz. He could feel.

Tears flowed freely down his face as he smacked a palm against the quartz. He was alive again! He had a chance! But...how? "Careful, you might hurt yourself" Evbo's familiar voice chuckled as he shook his head.

Seawatt tried to pull himself back together. "You- Why did you bring me back? I betrayed you, I hurt you?"

Evbo shrugged. "You think about me a lot. It's kinda...sweet, actually" He smiled over at him. "And, for what it's worth, I accept your apology"

<><><><><><><><><><>

Thank you so much for reading! I had a lot of fun writing this and would love to hear any requests, thoughts, etc!! I do a lot of other writing too, so if you like this please consider checking out this and my other stuff on Ao3 under WowzaItsEef! This is my first work for ParkCiv considering I only watched it yesterday, but as you can tell I've been consumed by Seavbo brainrot.

Likes, replys, and reblogs are all appreciated, have a great day!!

[skullytotheark]

Random Creepyhornets Heacanons

[i made that thumbnail btw]

Additional: in this canon, marble hornets takes place when youtube was extremely fresh & ends in 2006/2007. But in saying that the current time within this canon is 2008

The Mansion.

The Mansion is built on top of a massive cave

Context: Deeeep within the cave is a large pit of sorts which houses one of the Slenderman's 'towers' [which is a hivemind source. Think of it as a 'spawn point' for slender incase he 'dies']. Most of the food the proxies collect for slender is tossed into a basement corner which has a massive hole, The hivemind uses smaller roots to grab ahold of the food before dragging it into the depths

The Mansion is actually an asylum that was made into a "mansion"

You can still find some left over files fron when the asylum was up and running. A bunch of patient records, Weird experiements [which is probably why slender picked this place in the first place] and a bunch of cells

This also confirms that the 'basement' is a boiler room

The mansion moves around???

Well actually, The Forest moves around the mansion. But for this reasoning proxies need to be marked so they can find the mansion with ease, It has a strange 'six sense' thing going on where the proxies kinda know where the mansion is even when the forest shifts

Only proxies are allowed in the mansion

This just means that 'followers' or unofficial proxies aren't allowed in the mansion

Timothy Wright "Masky"

[drawn by my bestie @peachy-cloudds]

Background within this canon:

A year after marble hornets, Was shortly forced into becoming a proxy. The Operator's 'hauntings' becoming so bad to the point it was physically attacking Tim until he finally submitted. A choice he regrets to this day

Tim is a 'commander' or a 'leader' of sorts

Tim is a 'high ranking proxy' [which was a rank he was instantly given, alot of proxies hate him for how fast he ranked up], Meaning he can give orders and tasks to his follow proxies.

Tim's 'normal life'

Tim worked extremely hard to regain what was left of his life after marble hornets, Which meant him trying to be stable enough to hold a job as a Computer wiz, Of course having some experience with computers from marble hornets. He kinda dreads work but it's alot better then being a proxy and killing people

Tim constantly feels guilty for the things he's done as a proxy

As a proxy, It's your job to follow every order, Even if it means killing innocents.. But when being a proxy it's pretty much you or them.

Tim doesn't remember Entry 83

..... "I don't know what it is but.. something is off about brian.."

Tim's hobbies

One of tim's hobbies include photography, A thing he remembers enjoying in his childhood.. before he was sent away of course. He remembers having a shit camera he wondered around with and taking photos of whatever he saw as a kid

"I'm not like these freaks.."

Besides the events of marble hornets and his childhood, Tim is literally just a everyday guy. He's not a ruthless serial killer like everyone else in the manor nor is he some asshole some ppl make him out to be. He's just wrangled into this because of the Operator..

Tobias Erin Rodgers. "The Woodland Maniac"

[His surname is Rodgers in this canon, Just cuz no real big reason]

"You're wreckless Tobias.. That'll be your downfall" - The Operator

A Lot of the time Toby is pretty short tempered and doesn't like to be mocked, He prefers to be taken seriously like the other proxies around him. So he kinda does whatever to prove that he deserves respect like the others

"Everytime I look in the mirror.. He's there."

Toby fucking HATES looking in the mirror or at any of his reflections. Toby pretty much looks like a younger version of his father which pisses him off alot, Even beyond his dreams he seems to not be able to escape him

Toby dropped out of school at 17

Toby isn’t very good at Math or writing since he was pulled out of school when he was 15. Of course Connie tried to homeschool him but the rogers household wasn’t the best place for learning. But just because Toby isn’t extremely educated doesn’t mean he’s stupid, Toby can be pretty smart with certain scenarios thanks to his years as a proxy

spare time in Childhood

When Toby was younger Toby never really got to grow up with any computer/console games since and isn’t really familiar with the big brands. When he was little he heard of games like “mario” or “sonic” and was alil jealous of the other kids and their stable lives, However Toby always found himself being an outside kid which Connie considered to be a lot better than sitting in the house all day playing video games since, Toby spent most of his days doing that already

Fucking lies. All of them

Upon awakening Toby found himself in the edge of the woods, Feeling strangely sick from blacking out. His body aching while he coughed violently, Often coughing out bits of blood. Toby would begin to make his way to the edge of the forest before he finally broke through the treeline to find a group of police. While Toby was informed he was missing for about a month, Word had gotten out about Lyra’s sudden death along with Toby’s sudden disappearance and he was a prime suspect for her death thanks to his aunt Evelyn [Frank’s sister] spreading rumors about Toby possibly killing Lyra.

Skully "The Vessel"

"Whispering voices"

Skully tends to pause in between sentences due to some of the soul’s memories flashing before their eyes, It often distracts them and leaves them stunned for a second or two.

"Brian Isn't Here Right Now."

Skully often disguises themself as Brian / Hoody to scout around the mansion, Due to being a similar entity to the Operator it is unable to detect them. However there was only one tiny problem, Tim is a proxy too.. So one night Skully erased the memory of Brian dying before proceeding to weasel their way into the Manor. Using Brian as a meat suit

"Subspecies"

Skully is a lesser being of the Operator, Which means that they have similar abilities. Skully mostly uses teleportation though since they don’t wish to bring any form of harm to others.

"NULL."

Skully doesn’t really express any emotion, They often rarely talk or show any form of emotion. Their voice often montoned while Their body language often still similar to the Operator

"You can be fixed."

Skully is often a guardian angel for those who have been infected via drowning or the Operator, Often observing them in the distance and protecting them when they need too.

"How Much Do You Hate?"

Skully is often rarely aggressive however if provoked they tend to enter a more intimidating form that is similar to the Operator, Skully’s arms being outstretched while their mask expresses anger of sorts. 

The Operator.

[drew this the first time i used procreate on my sister's ipad]

Living nest

Spiders tend to make small nests in the small holes that are on slender’s body, These spiders due to long exposure can give you the drowning if they bite you

"that horrible face.."

The Spiral in the center of Slender’s face can hypnotize it’s victims. In my canon it’s how Slender gains most of it’s proxies

[example image]

• "The Hivemind."

The Operator has more than one variant that all act as a single hive mind sharing the same exact thoughts. The following examples are The Tower, The Drones and Hallucination

The Tower: The Tower is the main source of the hivemind, These variants are basically the "Queen Bees" that pop out smaller versions of themselves to scout for food and return it to the Nest. Towers often borrow themselves deep underground where they cannot be touched, often growing extremely giant, For example they can grow to the size of the statue of liberty before stopping. Their tentacles can connect to the roots of trees which allows them to shift the forest at their command, It's also worth noting that the hivemind all share the same thoughts

Drones: The drones are basically mini clones of the hivemind that are produced so the tower doesn't have to expose itself to the outside world and get injured or killed, Their goal is to collect food until the Tower is ready to bloom. But a lot of the time these drones will hypnotize people into doing their biddings for them which is considered to be the norm nowadays. It's also less stressful for the drones in case they do not wish to be discovered by the outside world. Drones can also become towers if they live long enough

Hallucinations: These are as you expect, They're the dones way of messing with your head by haunting you and breaking you mentality. They often appear in hallucinations and aren't the actual drones themselves, The main way to tell the difference between a drone and a hallucination is by the color of their tie. Red means that they are physically there attacking you while black means it's not real

The Great Blooming / The Arrival

This event is pretty straight forward. So the main reason these towers need to collect so much food and souls is so that they can bloom, Their heads unraveling to reveal a black rose that shoots out a giant cloud of spores that will infect those whoever breathes the spores in. These spores have the regular side effects such as the drowning, However those who are infected with the Tower's Spores are a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. If one is infected long enough their heads will implode into a flower and spread more spores around them

Connie Melody Rodgers.

Young mother.

Connie had Lyra when she was pretty young, Connie was 21 when she had Lyra who was born in 1984 while she was 25 when Toby who was born in 1988.

public shame

Connie often avoids crowded areas and neighborhood events due to the amount of people pinning blame on her son for the casualties when Toby burnt down the neighborhood. At times they would pin the blame on her even though the outside world never really got an insight in the Rodgers Family Household

Small distractions..

Connie tries to distract herself as much as she can, Constantly bottling up all of these emotions she has inside of her the best she can trying not to break. These distractions are often work, Household chores, Cooking and Painting

Family drama

Connie often avoids Frank’s side of the family who were just as horrible as frank was. But they often come knocking at her door trying to rile her up and often threatening to take her to court. But alot of the time when Connie hears them knocking she just pretends she’s not there.

"Burnt It All To Cinders Burnt To Ash.."

Connie recently went back to the burnt remains of her house, When she found the old metal box that surprisingly protected the things she had put in it she nearly bursted into tears when she found all of the old familt photos she has.. Although She could’ve swore she put Lyra’s jacket in it

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I just realize you're the only person who point out that Felix and Kagami would be just as in the wrong for hiding the truth from Adrien. Most people I know puts the blame entirely on Marinette and like yeah, I get it it's really bad she would keep something like that a secret from her boyfriend but at the same time how do you deal with that big of a burden?

If it were up to me, I'd make her deal with it the same way like in the Dragon Prince with how Rayla tries to tell Callum and Ezran about their dad being dead but idk, maybe it's not the same with Adrien so it's unfair.

I'm just irritated at people who blame Marinette just cuz she's her gf and not at the adults like Nathalie or Amelie, Marinette's a child, what about Felix and Kagami? They care about Adrien too right?

Yep, it's somehow all Marinette's fault even though Felix knew for all of season five. He knew before then, too, but at least you could argue that he was fearing for his life in previous seasons. As soon as he got the peacock? No excuse. Especially since he got the peacock by trading away Adrien's freedom. A thing he arguably didn't even need to do since I don't think anyone believes that Gabriel would have said, "No" to only getting all of the miraculous. Felix just offers up the ring without even waiting for Gabriel to ask for it. A master negotiator this boy is not.

To add even more insult to injury, season five gives Felix a subplot about informing freaking Kagami and faking her amok. A girl he literally just met gets the treatment that Felix arguably owes to Adrien after all the shit Felix has put him through. You can't even argue that Felix did it because Tomoe isn't a threat on the scale of Gabriel. She's literally a co-conspirator in season five and Felix knows that because Kagami wouldn't be a sentimonster if Tomoe wasn't involved. And Tomoe has always been written as far more hands-on than Gabriel when it comes to controlling her kid, so this isn't even a case of Felix picking the easier target. He doesn't care about easy targets or subterfuge since he, you know, kidnaps Kagami in front of her mother?

But does anyone in the fandom seem to acknowledge that? No and I really don't get it. If hate must be assigned to a character and not the writers, then Felix deserves so much more hate than Marinette.

Kagami isn't innocent either. She knew the truth for about half of the season and yet she doesn't seem to care about telling Adrien. At the same time, she's fine outing Ladybug's secret identity and fine telling Marinette everything, none of which is done in the name of justice. Kagami does it all for purely selfish reasons. To me, this was as much of a character assassination as the whole Kagami believing Lila thing even though Kagami should know the truth about Lila after the Oni-chan incident (Lila faking the kissing picture and texting it to Adrien's contacts).

Then there's Nathalie. In my opinion, Nathalie's redemption is a joke and one of the key reasons for that is how little she cares about actually saving Adrien. At no point does she tell him the truth even though she knows she's dying. She could have very easily died much sooner than the final, leaving Adrien to obey Gabriel's commands, never knowing that he was being controlled. She doesn't even try to find someone else to guard Adrien's ring. She just maintains the status quo and pretends that everything is fine while occasionally asking Gabriel to pretty please change his mind and think of Adrien? Please?

Lady, you literally pinned this man to a table at the start of the season and you are his second in command. You know all his secrets. You have access to everything. You have the power to take him down. You have the power to save Adrien. You are an awful, awful mother figure who put Gabriel's wants above Adrien's needs right up to the very end. Did you even think you had a chance to fire that cross bow or was this just another, "I'm totally helping" feel good moment to assuage your guilty conscious before you died?

And Amelie. Oh, Amelie. If you hate what Colt did to your son, then why are you idly standing by while Gabriel does the same thing to your nephew? You know that Felix has the peacock, so he's safe from being snapped. Why aren't you encouraging him to help Adrien? Or, if you want to keep protecting Felix, then why don't YOU go to Ladybug and Chat Noir and tell them that Gabriel is behind everything? Surely you have to know that Felix isn't safe as long as Gabriel has all those miraculous, right? Gabriel knows that you and your son know everything. A terrorist knows that you're a chink in his armor. Why aren't you terrified by that?

In summary: yeah, Marinette should tell Adrien. It's totally fair to be mad at her. But dear God, she should never have been put in a position where she needed to tell him because one of these four should have done it long before the end of season five! The fact that Marinette was put in this position in the first place is terrible, nonsensical, illogical writing. So go ahead and be mad at Marinette, but you sure as shit better be just as mad at the people who knew everything and did nothing, leaving a teenage girl to face it all alone while bearing the safety of the world on her shoulders.

[theoceanoasis]

More deity Hot Rod/Rodimus please?

"What are we going to do now?"

He put a protective hand on his belly feeling scared. Now that everyone knew who he was. He worried about his little one.

"We'll figure something out I won't let them hurt you or our sparkling."

Soundwave's cassettes came running over looking proud of their distraction and also wanting to know what happened.

"Hot Rod is sparked."

The Decepticons looked at him in shock and then congratulated them.

"I don't know if you two were told or not, but we've learned some interesting information. Some of the Hot Spots have suddenly activated."

"People think you are responsible which is crazy because you weren't even on Cybertron."

They glanced at each other and Ravage frowned.

"How did-?"

"It's complicated."

"They're looking for you right now."

"We also have some bad news."

"What is it?"

"They don't want you leaving Cybertron anymore. They've decided you can't be captain of the Lost Light and are planning on destroying the ship to keep you here."

"What!?"

Even though he knew there was a chance that might happen it still hurt. The Lost Light was home and the people on it were his family or at least he thought so.

"What do you want to do now?"

"I don't know, but I don't want to stay on Cyberton."

"I think that's a good idea. It seems like they want to lock you away in some temple."

He shivered hating that idea.

"I need to grab some things from the Lost Light and then we can find a ship. It's obviously too dangerous to stay here. Not only are they after me, but when they realize I'm sparked. They'll be after my sparkling as well."

"We're with you, whatever you want to do."

Soundwave's cassettes helped sneak them back onto the ship. The crowd outside had grown since that morning and even inside his room he could hear them calling for him. Demanding he let them use him.

Rushing around he grabbed whatever was important to him. He didn't notice he was crying until Soundwave wiped his optics.

"Hot Rod? Are you okay?"

"No. This was my home and now it's gone."

Soundwave pulled him close and he sobbed. His spark breaking at the idea of leaving the Lost Light and the family he'd created.

He wished he could turn back time or at least make them all forget. He hated being a deity. He didn't deserve to be worshipped not after Nyon. Not after he failed to protect them.

There was a knock on the door and he tensed. Soundwave pulled him closer and the cassettes went to answer it.

"What are you doing here?"

"I know Rodimus is inside. We need to talk."

"You've done enough."

"It's important."

They pushed past the cassettes walking into his room. He felt his powers start to activate worried they'd take him by force.

He looked at his ship's high command. The people he trusted the most who now stood before him.

Perceptor stepped foward and to his surprise he hugged him.

"I'm sorry Rodimus. I should have noticed the way you were being treated... I always get caught up in science and my experiments I forget what's happening around me, that people have feelings. I thought you were okay with everyone treating you like some kind of deity. Which is why I ignored it when I shouldn't have. I should have told you this doesn't change anything. You are my captain and my family. In some ways I see you as my child. Even though I have not protected you these past few weeks like I should have."

He felt tears fall and he buried his head against his shoulder crying. Perceptor just held him as the others came over apologizing as well.

Drift gave him a guilty look and Ratchet nudged him clearly unimpressed with his Conjunx behavior. Drift guilty pulled him to the side and the two of them talked it out.

Which ended with them clinging to each other and crying. The others joined them and he smiled. Years falling because it felt like he had his family back and that they hadn't abandoned him.

"We've talked to the rest of the crew and they are also sorry. None of us want the Lost Light to be destroyed. This is our home and we're a family. We should have sticked by your side. Instead of treating you differently because of our own beliefs."

"We want you as our captain and we promise to stop treating you like a deity."

"Will you accept or... Is it too late?"

Magnus gave him a worried look and he squeezed his friends hand.

"As long as all of you don't treat me differently. I'm happy to be your captain."

They all hugged each other again before gathering the crew. It wasn't easy but they managed to sneak onto their ship. Barricading the doors in case anyone realized what they were doing.

He stood on the bridge waiting for take off with Soundwave by his side. He squeezed his hand and Soundwave pulled him closer. The two of them watching at the ship lifted off quickly leaving Cybertron behind.

He didn't know what the future had in store for him but as long as he had his family. He knew it was all going to work out. He put a hand on his belly and looked at Soundwave who nuzzled him. Both of them excited to see what the future had in store for them.

~The End~

[starlightrows]

11 — Brotherhood

Hiding In Plain Sight

← Previous - Next →

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: play fighting, implied shower sex, p in v sex, fem!dom reader if you squint, fingering, cream pie, alcohol

Summary: You and Wolffe have an honest conversation about your relationship and Wolffe goes out for a guys night

Soft sheets, warm breath, and the sweet smell of you fills his nose. Wakefulness calls to him. He opens his eyes, and takes a moment to remember that he is in the hotel room, not his quarters. You are still sound asleep, looking admittedly a little goofy with your mouth hanging open a bit. It makes him smile to himself. You’re truly resting well, and that’s really all he wants right now.

You don’t stay asleep much longer. Years and years of getting up early have conditioned your body to wake up before the crack of dawn. Even though you hate it. You take some deep breaths before a big yawn works its way up and out of your body.

You blink awake and find him comfortably positioned to face you. Bare chested, a little bit of grogginess in his eyes, and his signature ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Morning” you mumble, wishing you could sleep just a bit longer

“Sleep okay?” He asks

You nod your head, “Was so relaxed after last night. I haven’t slept like that in ages”

“Good. You deserve a good night's sleep” he says, feeling that anxious guilty pit start to form in his stomach. But before it can grow any further he makes a choice, placing his hand on your cheek “I owe you an apology”

“An apology?“ you ask, genuinely confused

“The last couple weeks you have been tormented and mistreated by… him” he refuses to say the Admiral’s name “And instead of asking you how things were really going or taking the time to truly listen to you, I bitched and moaned about my own problems. That was unacceptable, and for that I’m sorry”

“Wolffe…” you place your hand over his on your cheek “I am not upset or angry with you over any of this”

“I know” he says quietly “But that does not change the fact that I wasn’t being fair to you”

“It’s not your fault, you had a long and busy week” you assure him

“Regardless, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me these things. Busy week or not. I have a duty as your Commander to advocate for you” he pauses “And a duty as your partner to support you when you’re going through something” he says seriously

Your eyes get a bit misty. He’s truly bothered by all of this. Not that you’ve thought much about it or had doubts, but he cares for you. You nuzzle yourself close to him, and drape your arm over his body.

“Thank you” you say softly. You could ramble on about why he’s already an amazing partner or your gratefulness for his help in getting this situation handled. But right now, thank you and this embrace, will suffice.

“There’s something else” he says, rubbing your back

“Hm?”

“Slush told me he knows about us” Wolffe says, taking care to keep his tone even “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You hadn’t even thought of telling him. You realize there are many things that you should be communicating with him, since he is your partner.

“I never intended on telling him. After you woke up, you seemed so…. apathetic about surviving. At the time I was feeling really hurt by that. Slush deduced my reason for being upset and I just… didn’t deny it�� you admit to him “You’re right, I should have told you”

A long moment of silence passes between you. He pulls away from you just enough to be able to see your face when he speaks.

“I know I’m not the most open person… but I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me about things” he says

“I’ll be better about that” you promise him “Thank you… for being honest with me”

The two of you lay together in contented silence for a few more minutes. Your perfect serenity is disrupted by an audible growl coming from his stomach. You smile against him, “Hungry?”

“We don’t have to get up yet” he says “I won’t starve”

“Hmm, what if we don’t get up but still get food?” You offer

“And how do you propose we do that?” He asks

You roll away from him and lean off of the bed slightly, reaching into the drawer of the bedside table to retrieve the room service menu. You lay on your back and hold the menu up above your face “Hmm… fresh brewed caf, eggs any way you like them, toast, griddle cakes, hash browns, sausages, fruit. Anything strike your fancy?”

“Caf” he says, scooting closer to you and looking up to read the menu alongside you. After a few minutes of reviewing your options and deciding on what to order, you lean back over to the nightstand again and pick up the com device provided in the room and com the number listed on the menu.

Wolffe is a bit surprised, you really didn’t have to get out of bed to order food. He vaguely wonders if the droid tasked with delivering the food would just walk right in so the person who ordered the food never had to leave the bed at all… that could get a bit awkward if they just enter without announcing themselves. Might be kind of fun, trying to beat the clock and not get caught doing something… scandalous. He decides against that naughty little thought, maybe another time.

And good thing too, because the protocol droid delivering the food arrives even faster than he thought it would. The two of you sit up in bed, placing the tray of food between you.

He sips his caf and enjoys the breakfast spread you ordered. He’s never eaten food in bed before, it feels kind of weird but doesn’t mind it. He’s reminded of sharing meals during missions. Sometimes when local people on the worlds you visit offer the group food it’s eaten around a campfire. Platter on your lap or in one hand. The point is to he close together while eating and to share all of the food.

“Mmm… what are these?” He asks, referring to the bowl of red fruit served with your breakfast.

“They’re called strawberries” you tell him “They’re a bit tart”

“They’re pretty good,” he says.

“You should try them dipped in chocolate” you giggle “Next time”

Next time… he finds himself thinking about what next time might look like often these days. You speak about it often. Movies you think he’d like. Places you want to take him. Food you tell him he just has to try.

“So what have you got planned for us this time?” He asks, wiping his hands on a cloth napkin.

“Well there’s a modern art museum a few levels up that I’ve heard is a pretty safe spot, but not sure how much you would enjoy it” you start running through your little list of activities “I was also thinking that I could take you to the cinema… we can either pick a good movie and watch something fun or we could pick a bad movie and make out in the back the whole time”

He can’t help but chuckle, you really do think of everything. “Well if we’re gonna pay for a movie we might as well watch the damn thing”

“Fair point” you laugh.

“But” he moves the breakfast tray onto the bedside table “There’s nothing stopping us from making out here”

“Mmm…” you grin “Can’t say no to an offer like that”

He takes your face in his hand, drawing you in towards him for a kiss. To his surprise, you place your hands on his shoulders and press him down to the mattress. You straddle his hips and kiss him over and over. His hands come up, settling on your waist and roaming as they please while you kiss him. You’ve never done this to him before, pinned him down under you and just sat there, keeping him in place with your body weight while kissing him senseless.

He can feel some stirring in his nether region. It’s hard not to when you gently push your tongue into his mouth, and grind yourself on him. Every sound you make is intoxicating, down to the smallest sounds of your breathing.

His hands find purchase on the swell of your hips and hold firm, rocking you forward and back in time with your grinding. Through the material of your panties and now his undershorts, he can feel how much you’re enjoying this. But before he can make any attempt to take things further, you beat him to it. Stilling your movements and sitting back on your heels, and looking down at him with a playful but confident grin.

He watches as you shuck off your sleeping shirt and maneuver yourself as gracefully as you can manage to get your panties off too. He places a hand behind his head and watches you lean back over him, placing your hand on the pillow next to his head and kissing him again. Hungrier and harder than before. You resume your grinding and moan into your kisses. Now he’s really got a hard on tenting his undershorts and you seem content to torture him by doing nothing to free him from his clothed prison.

“You’re killin’ me here” he grumbles despite his grin

“Ask” you whisper against his lips

He groans against you, he’s a Commander for stars sake, he doesn’t beg for mercy! Except when it comes to you apparently.

“Will you take the damn shorts off?” he grumbles. You go a little faster, and give his lower lip a little nip.

“Ask nicely” you correct yourself.

He almost plays into your little game, but thinks his idea might be more fun. He posts his legs and gives an upward buck of his hips, catching you a bit off guard. He sits all the way up taking you with him and crashes both of you back down to the mattress with your heads at the foot of the bed. Now he’s got you pinned in a devilish kiss. Your squeal of surprise and arousal spur him on.

“Please” he says, nipping at you now while he takes his own shorts off “May I fuck you like you deserve”

“Yes” you whimper, seeing him toss his undershorts off of the bed. You had intended to be on top and take him for a ride this morning… another time perhaps when he’s feeling less spry. You have to admit, him flipping you over and tossing you around is pretty sexy.

With his shorts thrown haphazardly into the room he spreads your thighs, and presses two fingers between your folds. Feeling you, teasing you, testing you. To his delight he finds your wet arousal gathering quickly between your folds.

“Mmm, got yourself all worked up” he says massaging his two fingers into your soft hole

“I’m not the one standing at attention” you tease him. Now you’ve caught him off guard “Who’s all worked up now”

“Careful there doc” he stills his fingers “I’ve got you right where I want you”

He starts moving again, but you're surprised to feel that he’s not moving them in and out of you the way he had been before. He’s moving them up and down against your walls.

Your breath catches in your throat and your jaw goes a bit slack. His dark eyes narrow in concentration and satisfaction, you’re so worked up you can’t sass back. He speeds up and increases the pressure, he wants you to cum so hard you can’t think.

You and Wolffe are no strangers to one another’s bodies at this point. You know a good orgasm when it’s on the horizon. But this, whatever he’s doing that’s making this different, is giving you a whole new sensation of pleasure. You can hardly remember to breathe, let alone mind whatever desperate sounds are escaping you as the feeling of intense pleasure tingles down your legs, up through your belly, burns through your chest and explodes in a warm gushing sensation that leaves you feeling almost dizzy.

His dark chuckle brings you back into your body, he’s pulled his fingers from you and his own stroking your trembling thighs. You look up at him, in a blissful daze, fuck he’s gorgeous.

“You okay?” He chuckles, leaning over you to press a kiss on your lips

“You’re full of surprises this weekend, Commander” you sigh dreamily, returning his kiss and wrapping your still jittery feeling legs around his hips, drawing him in close to you.

One of his hands drifts down his cock, giving it a couple strokes to coat himself in your release and guides himself in.

It doesn’t matter how many times or how often you have the opportunity, the initial warmth of your pussy surrounding his cock as he sinks into you is by far the most addicting thing Wolffe has ever experienced in his life.

He finds a steady but fast paced rhythm, your arousal making it easy for him to move. Your legs around his hips tighten up, pulling him into you with every thrust. His firm grip on your hips changes, he slides his hands down over the curve of your ass tilting your hips forward, changing the angle without losing his leverage.

His sudden change takes you by surprise, causing a little gasp and a moan to tumble from your lips. The room is full of delicious sounds of your combined breathing, moaning and groaning.

“Nnnnuuhh… fuck” he groans “fuck I never want this to stop”

“Don’t stop” you practically beg. He squeezes your ass and doesn’t go faster, no he goes harder. You’re completely at his mercy, trapped in a sensation of intense pleasure and craving for more.

“Wolffe” you moan, intentionally contracting the muscles of your stomach and pelvic floor “Please”

Wolffe lets go of one of your ass cheeks, and hinges all the way forward, planting his hand beside your head. He tries to keep his pace but falters as he starts to cum inside you. He lets go of your other ass cheek, and let’s your leg slip down off of his waist. That hand goes to your clit, rubbing little circles around your aching bud.

You whimper with need as he massages your clit, and continues to gently fuck you even after he’s cum. You feel his release inside you getting pushed out of your hole with every gentle thrust back inside. He knows you’re close, he keeps his thrusts pretty shallow hitting that soft spot inside you that he knows will make you come undone. You squeeze your eyes closed and your body shakes as your cum for a second time this morning.

He eases up on you and pulls all the way out. You open your eyes to find a satisfied grin on his face. Next time, you promise yourself, you’ll be the one grinning down at him.

“You okay?” He chuckles

“Yeah” you say with a content sigh “We might need to call down for some fresh sheets” you note, sitting up and taking in the mess of both of your cum on the bedding.

“We can have a house keeping droid change them while we get cleaned up” he stands from the bed to stretch his back and bend his legs. You make no effort to get up, you’re more than happy to just take in the view. The sunlight seems to hit him just right, the muscles of his back flex under his war scarred skin, and he seems so relaxed. At ease with you, in this space. He turns back to see you watching him “What?”

“Nothing” you smile “I’ll call for housekeeping”

After placing the call down, you join him in the fresher and close the door. You shower together, getting all cleaned up from your fun morning, and get a little side tracked going for another round under the hot water.

Eventually you shoo him out of the fresher so you can actually do your hair and skincare routine without the distraction and temptation of having him present.

He goes back out into the main area of the suite and finds the linens have been changed, and the dirty ones taken away by droids. He smirks to himself thinking their binary brains probably heard the two of you messing around in there. He gets dressed and sits on the edge of bed and checks his com device. There are way more notifications than he was expecting.

He opens a message from General Plo Koon that read— I wanted to let you know the status of the case regarding Admiral Sarkany. He has been detained by military police and a full investigation launched to determine the full extent of his transgressions. At this time he has been relieved from his command, stripped of his honors and decorations, and will be court martialed within the coming days. I hope you and the captain will be able to find some peace in knowing that he will be receiving the justice he deserves.

Personally, Wolffe would have preferred giving the admiral a more physical form of justice. That is what he deserves. But he can settle for this, he just hopes you will be able to find peace in this outcome.

He looks through his other messages waiting for him. Several things that can wait until he’s back on duty. But one catches his eye from his good friend Rex.

Hey Wolffe, heard the 104th has shore leave on Coruscant. The 212th is here for the next several days before accompanying General Kenobi to Mandalore. So is the 327th and 113th. The entire Command Batch is on world, tonight. We’re meeting at 79’s for drinks.

He’s surprised. What are the chances that every single living member of the Command Batch are all going to be on the same planet at the same time? He hasn’t seen some of those men since the battle of Geonosis. It would be great to see them again.

But, he knows you are still processing everything that happened the last couple days. And this is some of the only time the two you get to spend together without fear of being caught. He taps his thumbs together over the keypad of his holo device, weighing his options.

You step out of the fresher, looking cleaned up and content. “So, I was thinking we could get a bite to eat and then see about that movie?”

He looks up at you “Yeah…. yeah sounds great” he says, a bit distracted.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, picking up on his change of mood

“Yeah. I uh… had a message waiting for me from General Plo. You should probably take a look at it” he says passing his com device to you, with the message from the General open. He watches your face as you read through the message. You wordlessly hand it back to him, and stand a bit awkwardly for a moment. He turns off the com and looks at you, waiting for some kind of reaction.

“Well… at least I’m not being court martialed for assault” you joke dryly, looking out towards the window

He says your name gently to get your attention, and stands to meet you. He places one hand on your cheek and the other at your hip. “What is it?”

You avert your eyes from his gaze, as he strokes your cheek with his thumb “I don’t think it matters what kind of justice the court decides is correct for him. I don’t think it will ever feel like it’s enough… not for me”

“That’s okay” he says “You’re not wrong to feel that way” You nuzzle your cheek into his hand just a little and nod.

You refuse to continue crying about this whole thing. This is the last day you get to spend with Wolffe on shore leave, and you have no idea when or if you’ll ever get to have time together like this again.

“Ahaha” you make yourself laugh a bit, forcing back the bubble in your throat “No sense in letting a beautiful day be ruined by him, I want to take you somewhere fun”

That’s my girl he thinks to himself. He follows you around the city, samples any delicacy you prompt him to, and genuinely enjoys spending the day with you. You don’t land up going to the movie theater, too beautiful to waste a day indoors, you claim.

In the back of his mind he’s thinking about the Command Batch. This is kind of a once in a lifetime opportunity, but he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s choosing them over you. He also doesn’t have a good lie as to why he wouldn’t move mountains to be there tonight to tell the lads.

As the day turns to evening, you’ve brought him back to the hotel room and are throwing out some options of what to do for your last night together on leave.

“Is there anything you want to see or do you ask him” sitting down on the edge of the bed. This is his opportunity. If this partnership, this relationship is going to work, he has to communicate too.

“How would you feel about me going out with some of my command batch tonight?” He asks.

“Sounds like a good time. Try not to get into trouble” you laugh

“Trouble? Me? Nah” he teases, a little surprised by how nonchalant you seem to be “You sure it’s alright? I’m not being an asshole for ditching you?”

“Not at all” you shake your head “When do you ever get to spend time with all of your batchmates at once?

“Not often” he admits

“Exactly. Go have fun with your brothers, I’ve had you all to myself the last two days” you urge him

He gives you a suspicious look “You want time to watch trashy holo tv by yourself don’t you?” he says

“Yes I absolutely do” you admit with no shame “I won’t make you stoop to my level and watch them with me, so you go have fun with the lads and let me indulge this guilty pleasure”

He chuckles and shakes his head, leaning over you to kiss the top of your head “Deal”

He quickly gets cleaned up and assures you that he won’t be out all night before heading out on his own towards 79’s. It’s been a long time since he’s been to 79's, certainly hasn’t been back since he’s started seeing you. He used to get dragged by some of the original Wolf Pack members back in the day. He didn’t mind the drinking or the music, but the dancing and the crowds used to put him on edge. The drinking certainly helped to remedy that, it would also loosen him up enough to be confident enough to talk to some of the women that frequent 79’s. As much as he loathes to admit it, he’s had his fair share of fresher hook ups at 79’s.

But not anymore. Tonight he’s here to drink and catch up with his batch. He can’t even remember the last time they had the opportunity to do this, and who knows if it will ever happen again.

“Hey! Look who decided to show up!” the voice is just like every other clones voice, but Wolffe can tell that voice and that phrase was meant for him

“Bly” Wolffe glances over his shoulder, seeing his friend approach him at the entrance of the club. Bly catches up with him, clapping a hand on his shoulder

“It’s been a long time” Bly smiles “Heard about your new colors”

Wolffe glances down at his armor, already scratched and scraped from battle again after the fresh paint job “Yeah, we needed the change”

Bly gives him a nod, understanding completely. The pair of them walk into the club, and head towards the back where the rest of their batch is surely waiting. To their amusement, their table is already packed full of familiar armor and the group seems to be erupting into laughter.

“I’m serious, if he throws me off another building…” Rex shakes his head “Ah, the late comers. Make room lads, the big dog’s here”

The men around the table scooch closer together to make room for two more, and beat the table top with their fists while they cheer with alcohol drenched delight at their brother's arrival. Wolffe settles into his seat and reaches for one of the many full glasses of spotchka sitting in front of them, and knocks it back without a breath of hesitation.

“Any man here that has a better near death experience than I do, and drinks are on me the rest of the night” he says, placing the glass upside down on the table.

The men launch into their own tales of near death experiences. Tales of being chased by wild animals, getting caught in ambushes, ejecting from crashing ships, nearly drowning on Mon Kala, having such a bad stomach reaction to local food the squad’s medic had to place Gree on medical leave for a full week.

Then it turned to a loud and boisterous conversation regarding the dumbest things they’ve witnessed their shinies doing, the colossal messes of situations their generals have gotten them into, and memories of who did what and remembering when someone said that. With each story being told and each round of laughter around the table, the alcohol never seems to run out and they can’t seem to stop reaching for more drinks.

Eventually Wolffe is laughing so hard his sides hurt, and he has no idea what he’s even laughing at anymore. He is drunk, he knows he is. In his foggy state of mind he knows that he definitely needs to stop and switch to water, even as the others continue to drink. Some of the others switch to water too, namely Rex, Cody and Fox, the latter of whom definitely have to be on duty tomorrow morning.

The conversation at the tables shifts down somewhat. Ponds describes how difficult it’s been the last few weeks, his second in command was killed in action a little over a month ago, and the coping has been harder than he expected. Other’s chime in regarding their own experiences with losses on their teams, and in their lives.

“I still think about him” Appo’s voice is hauntingly empty, everyone at the table is dead silent despite the ever present cacophony of sound that is 79’s Night Club. He’d just gotten through telling the group about a little boy in a fishing village they were staying at, and how attached he’d gotten to him. War is tragedy, and tragedy took that child long before his time. “I think I loved his mother… she was beautiful, kind and perfect…”

That pulls at Wolffe’s chest. He never thought he would be able to relate to a statement like that. Never thought he could condone a statement like that. Never thought that he would feel pretty much the same way. It must show on his face because the others seem to be looking at him. But before he can speak up, Gray who’s sitting across from him speaks first

“Bly? Are you okay?” He asks

Wolffe looks to Bly sitting directly beside him. If Wolffe thought it was showing on his face, it is most certainly showing on Bly’s.

“Look… you guys are my brothers. My closest friends. I didn’t mean for this to happen and you can’t tell anyone but… I can’t stop my heart from loving her” he says with a shake of his head and a lovelorn look in his eye

“Who?” Rex asks

“Aayla” he replies a bit quieter

“General Secura?” Gree blurts out

Fox elbows him in the ribs “Shut it, you want the whole place to hear you?” he says in a hushed tone. Wolffe never got along well with Fox, but he did have to give him credit for helping to maintain the privacy of this discussion.

“Yeah… she’s just so… smart and brave. She looks out for us and really cares about what happens to us. She asks for my advice and talks to me like I fucking matter and “ he goes on and on about her for nearly twenty minutes, and no one has the heart to stop him.

But while they may not have the heart to stop him, some of the men at this table are losing the strength to stay awake through this confession of true and undying love for his Jedi general. Wolffe stays awake though, just like Appo’s story, he feels every single word coming out of Bly’s mouth hitting him like blaster bolts and echoing through his chest yeah, me too.

“What?” Cody says, interrupting Bly. Wolffe looks up… fuck did he just say me too, out loud? Yes he absolutely did.

“No no I…” he shakes his head, and then promptly stops doing that because it’s making him dizzy with how drunk he still is “Not that. Iss’ not my general”

“Then who is it?” Ponds asks him.

There’s no getting out of it now, and he’s too drunk to convincingly lie “A woman” he tells them

“Oooooh who?” A particularly plastered Gree asks

“She…. she ah… saved my life awhile back… and I… sort of already had a… thing for her” he knows he’s slurring quite a bit, but it’s taking most of his mental effort to exclude specific details about you, instead of focusing on speaking clearly

“What’s she like?” Rex asks

“Smart” Wolffe says “Smartest person I know… and good… she’s just so good. About everything. Always knows the right thing to say… always how to fix things… makes me feel…”

He knows he’s trailing off, but he’s having such a terrible time staying focused on what he’s saying and trying to figure out what to say next without saying too much.

“Feel what?” someone asks

“Feel like I’m worthy” his voice cracks a bit unexpectedly. Everyone at the table is looking at him, glassy and exhausted eyes fixed on him, hanging on his every word “Like I’m worthy of good things”

It truly sinks in, that is how you make him feel. You make him feel strong and confident, not that he wasn’t already, but you elevate and validate that. You make him feel smart and successful by supporting him in all your ways. And you make him feel worthy. That was it, that was the reason his guilt over the situation with the Admiral consumed him. He no longer felt worthy of you.

“Does she know?” Rex asks him

“Don’t normally get drunk enough to say shit like this in front of her” Wolffe says

“Tell her anyway” Appo says “Don’t wait until it’s too late”

That’s something he never lets himself think about. His own death, yes. But yours, never. But it is always a possibility. And something he probably shouldn’t be ignoring.

Fox clears his throat after a long beat of silence “Well… I should probably get going… early shift tomorrow”

Others around the table murmur agreement. The men stand, some helping the more drunk to find their balance and walk back towards the base or their station posts.

Wolffe bids his brothers goodbye. Always a difficult thing to do. He may never see them again, they may never see him again. They may never know what happened to each other. He can only hope he’ll have the opportunity to see them again.

He wandered back towards the hotel on his own. Still feeling a bit tipsy, but with enough awareness to keep himself safe. With every step he takes he feels like he’s getting closer and closer to home. Home is something he’s never truly had. Until now. His brothers are right. He shouldn’t wait until it’s too late.

When he finally makes it up the stairs and pushes open the door to the room, he feels confident and still inebriated enough to say those words. But when he looks at you, he finds that you are already asleep with the holo tv still on.

He moves as carefully as he can to stay quiet while he undresses for bed and turns off the holo. He makes sure to drink a ton of water and take some light painkillers before climbing into bed with you to fend off any chance of a hangover in the morning.

When light finds its way in through the break in the curtains and his eyes flutter open, he sees you quietly packing up your clothes into your bag and arranging his armor. He doesn’t get up, or make any indication to you that he’s awake. Instead he watches you, knowing full well that you’re taking extra care to be quiet so he can sleep as long as possible before you both have to leave this place.

You. You who searched for him and what was left of his squad when all hope was lost. You who chose to be part of a rebuilding team when you had your pick of any battalion to serve with. You who took time out of your day to teach the men skills they might need. You who encourages and fosters the team’s bond, and every man’s individuality. You who fought harder for his life than even he did in his darkest hour. You who never gives up without a fight. You who spends your off hours thinking of places to go and things to do that you think he will enjoy. You who makes funny little lists of things he loves.

You, who are above all else, are the top of the list of things he loves.

Tag List: @maulslittlemeowmeow @lucyysthings @justanothersadperson93 @lackofhonor @paige6768 @thefact0rygirl @littedragonlady

[flamingskull28]

Here is an info dump about my character Alex (thanks to @nilotheberryboy for the drawing of him)

Age: 15

Backstory: was left by his parents to die in depthpolis when he was 6 so that they could have a better life without the burden of a kid, he us still trying to find them.

growing up on the streets he lived by scavenging from junk piles or scrap yards and putting them together into things to sell mainly wepones because weapon schematics were common due to how horrible of a city it was. also due to rough nature of the city he learned to shift from the age of 10 instead of 14 during his time in the city he got into many fights with the gang population which left a sour taste in his mouth about them. He also did go to school but dropped out in 8th after getting questioned on who was taking care of him(he refused to go to an orphanage they were worst that the plie of junk he called a hideout). He did attempt to make friends during this time but most of them either died or betrayed him which gave him slight trust issues. After a while of designing weapons and solo fighting the city's gangs he found a group of people in a situation like him and they decided to team up to rid the city of crime themselves. They succeeded for a while and gained more members to their cause and tore down many of the city's gangs leaving only the biggest left a gang called the killer wailers after a short time of what could be called a war the fight between these groups was set to culminate in one final battle. But the night before this fight Alex's radio played the calamari inkantation, after hearing the song he realized that the group he was in would either be stuck in an endless battle against gangs that would constantly reemerge or they would be destined to become a gang themselves (also at this point he grew tried of the killing and all the lives he took even if they were in self defense they started to weigh on his conscience) and agreed that after the big fight he would resign from his position as leader of the group and head to inkopils in hopes of a better life. After the fight ,which they had won but to massive casualties on their side and a 96% Wipeout on the other, he told his two seconds in command and best friends of his plans to leave he knew they would take it bad but they took it worse than he expected and tried to kill him out of anger and fear.

They were unsuccessful but left a permanent mark on his face with an explslosher and after they burned him with it. he panicked and threw a bomb killing them both and forever making him feel guilty. He wore bandages around his face while his wound healed and once It had healed he put on a mask over it because the scar reminded him of what happened(and he hated how it looked) which he has rarely taken off since then and has never done so in front of another person, except one police officer who saw him when he broke into the police station to remove his record though that officer wasto scared to tell anyone. After these events he left the group and inkopolis where he saw two mysterious people enter a water grate....

Weapons: he mains the splat roller but occasionally switch's to an N-zap as well ( his true main is the Dynamo roller but he got a number of complaints for using it due to how hard he swings it so he only uses it when necessary)

Rank: he is level 34 and has B rank in all mode's except rainmaker where he is A rank, he's working on it

Personality: he tends to be a bit sassy and rude when he speaks(he tries not though) but he generally prefers not to talk he also has much guilt and low self-esteem believing he does not deserve what he has and is not good enough to be an agent he cares deeply for those he considers a friend and will protect and Care over them to absurd means even if he is not in a state to do so. He also lacks self-preservation and will act as if all is normal despite any injuries he may have(Marie has scolded him a few times for patrolling while bleeding)

Fun facts: he's far stronger than most other cephalopods and can take nearly twice as much as damage as they can before he cannot take anymore

If he is in the state of extreme discomfort or negative emotions his scar has a tendency to tear and bleed slightly much to the worry of others (he only finds it embarrassing)

He has another noticeable mark on his face that he doesn't mind as much it's a little gash underneath his left eye that he got when a octoling with claws tried to take his eye out

He has a soft spot for children or childish and hyper people

This is probably obvious but he has very bad anger issues and can unintentionally be a sore loser

Has a fear of explsloshers and a dislike of chargers ( he recalls losing many a friend to snipers who would hide where no could reach them)

Favorite song (as of the current time in the series) is shark bytes

Is really good friends with 8 and 4 but slightly distrust 3 due to their more cold nature but he eventually comes around to trust them as well

Listens to Sheldon's rambles.

Has trouble falling asleep and normally ends up staying awake till they eventually get far to tried to be awake

Suffers from ptsd

I have taken inspiration for this character from many places like agent 3 from 14-crush, myself irl and a few others I can't recall.

(A few other photos)

[abstractppsychopomp]

on names in 'change.'

since I've finally posted the last chapter and couldn't fit this rant into the end notes

Jon Snow's name is enormously important to me as a writer, and to him and to his character, and this is why I still referred to him as "Jon Snow" instead of just Jon once Catelyn finally gives up on trying to hate him for crimes he never committed.

there's a shift in the way she refers to him, after the ending of the second chapter, where they confront each other and finally talk, and I wanted to show it by making Catelyn call Jon by his name.

names are important, so so important, and they tell a lot about the relationship between the person who's point of view you're writing and whoever they're thinking about.

as she gradually starts to see Jon as more than just the despised bastard son of her husband, she goes from calling him (always in her head, sometimes out loud) boy, using the word to undermine his position and value as a commander, to calling him man as she tries to blame him for surviving when her son didn't. but then, he becomes a boy again.

so at first he's guilty of being a boy (derogatory, as in "immature" and not good enough), and when in her eyes he becomes a man Catelyn is relieved: he's no longer the "motherless child" she once swore to love but couldn't, but a grown man in a position of power who she perceives unworthy of even being alive, in her pain and grief. she's lost her child, the wound is still fresh for her, and Jon is the easy target she needs. then he becomes a boy again, but she calls him this when he lets himself be weak in front of her, and when she starts to know him enough to notice his weaknesses. boy is what she calls someone she starts to care for, who she pities and feels bad for. boy is what she calls her sons, to highlight how they didn't deserve what happened to them as they were still young and still innocent of the sins a grown man commits in his life.

so, he becomes Jon Snow. in the second chapter for twelve thousand words she calls him Jon Snow, or King, because she's trying to set apart her personal feelings, as she's realized that she blames him for things he's innocent of. She knows this, and Jon tries to be civil with her, and she does the same. He becomes Jon once they properly talk and she really deals with her internalized hate and shame and guilt, and she even calls him that out loud, more than once.

"Jon," she said. He should have kept going, but she had never called him by his name before. He turned to find her looking at his face, as if she was seeing it for the first time. "Yes?" he said. "It should have been you" she told him.

in the books (up here the part where), she calls him Jon once, when he goes to say goodbye to Bran, and the fact that in fourteen years she'd never called him by his name surprised when I read it- and makes writing her calling him Jon even more massive.

but even once they effectively start to care for each other, not that they acknowledge it yet, she thinks of him as Jon Snow, because his name is particularly important.

as you can imagine, because of his last name, Snow. (I'll never forgive them for making him say something like "My name is the North" and then stripping him of every ounce of ambition he had.)

what we have to remember is that Catelyn didn't start loving Jon because she forgets about him being a bastard, she does it with the constant reminder of it- that she loves someone that, for all she was taught, was vile and destined to sin. Religion is a huge part of every character, but especially the ones who believe in the Faith of the Seven (I'm talking about you Alicent). (Another reason why the Faith Militant arc was so interesting to me.)

Jon's identity as a bastard is important, not because being a bastard gives him certain characteristics, but because it heavily influenced the way he was perceived and treated, and if this doesn't change a person nothing does. just like being queer made me who I am and I am things other than queer, so Jon is. he's a bastard and many other things, but he's still a bastard and that changed his life. had he been raised as the Targaryen prince, he would have been a completely different person.

he finds peace with his role in society, and when he finds out he's not a bastard? everything changes of course, everyone talks about thrones and power, and he's still stuck realizing that all of that was for nothing. And Catelyn still reminds herself that he's a bastard, because she started caring for him as a bastard. that's what she's learned to love, and what Jon wants to be cared as. is it easier to love your nephew, or the natural born son of your husband?

love is not easy. loving Jon was a challenge for Catelyn, not because of him but because of what she was taught and her religion and their society and her issues of course. by loving him as the bastard boy, she loves him truly, and she has an actual character development.

he doesn't take the Stark name, and this isn't for nothing. he won't take Targaryen either, because he's not ashamed of who he is, or well, was raised to be. He makes peace with his identity, and while finding out about Lyanna and Rhaegar changes things for him, he still spent his whole life, the first twenty-one years of his life, as Ned Stark's son.

Catelyn makes peace with his identity, and she accepts him as her son as Jon Snow, her nephew yes, but most of all the son of her husband who she had to go through three wars to accept as hers.

[l-r-christian]

Heyyy I was wondering if you could do a poly!mikaelson fic you can make up the plot but I've been so obsessed with the first lately and I need some more to feed my obsession tysm love your writing btw💕❤

Ohhhh boy thank you. I have an idea let's go this is gonna lean mostly to the boys

Warnings: Angst, Mikaelson boys being simps, Fluff, Spiciness

A/N: used Google translate for the French again. My grandmother would be ashamed of me.

Attends que mes frères vioent ce que j'ai vu de toi, petit - Wait until my brothers get to see what I saw of you, little one

Tu vas me partager - You're going to share me?

Oh oui petit - Oh yes little one.

Y/N had left a bloody bodies in her wake after a month since she turned off her humanity which her friends couldn't understand why she would. Stefan and Caroline found Y/N feeding off of a whole bar of people and managed to vervain her and get her back to the Salvatore house to begin the process of getting her to turning on her humanity.

"How is she?" Damon asked Stefan when the younger Salvatore walked out of the room they had Y/N in tied to a chair with vervain ropes and curtains drawn close to keep the sun from burning her.

"Still no humanity."

"Are you sure you guys don't know why she turned it off?" Caroline asked noticing how Elena looked away and Damon looked guilty of something. Now it was no secret to the friend group that Y/N and Damon broke up but they didn't know why and both Caroline and Bonnie found it weird that Elena had started to date Damon a week after Y/N left Damon.

"Yeah, we're sure."

Three weeks Y/N kept it off making Caroline go behind everyone's back with Bonnie and Enzo encouraging the blonde to call Y/N's Sire....Elijah for help. They hoped the Original could get you to turn it back on. Elijah was surprised to get a call from Caroline saying that Y/N had turned off her humanity and seeing how things were calm in New Orleans, he told Caroline he was on his way.

"Leaving 'Lijah?"

"I am needed in Mystic Falls. It seems Y/N had turned off her humanity Niklaus." Elijah tells his brother who frowned not liking the sound of his favorite vampire having her humanity off.

"I'm coming with you."

In the end both Klaus and Kol came with Elijah which didn't surprise the older Mikaelson as both of them were every protective of Y/N. Klaus and Kol would tell Elijah that Y/N was their favorite vampire that he Sired and before leaving for New Orleans the three agreed to share her if she left Damon for New Orleans.

"Why are they here?" Damon growled walking into the Salvatore home seeing Caroline and Enzo talking to the Original family about Y/N.

"I called Elijah. I thought as Y/N's Sire, Elijah could help." Caroline says as Damon glared at the Original as it was the one thing Damon hated most that his ex girlfriend was Sired to Elijah. Damon was angry with Elena when she told the vampire she asked Elijah to turn Y/N and afterwards the freshly turned vampire followed Elijah around like a puppy as he help her control herself.

"Right. We don't ne....." Damon was cut off by Klaus slamming him against a wall with his hand in the vampire's chest eyes dark as Elijah sighed while Kolwatched enjoying it all a little too much.

"I remembering you promised my brothers and I that you would take care of our little vamp." Klaus growled as Kol smirked following Caroline and Elijah to the room Y/N was in. Damon had indeed promised to care for Y/N as the three waited for the younger vampire to fuck up so they could swoop in to take the female vampire away.

"She is my girl....you ass." Damon said as Klaus pulled away glaring then followed after the three angry the Damon reminded him that Y/N belong to another.

"Oh Elijah.....you sleeping with Elena too? Is that why you are here, so little miss prefect could be happy?" Y/N said when they stepped into the room finding the no humanity vampire sitting on the floor head laying on a bed. Elijah frowned seeing the state his Sired vampire was in, her clothes were dirty clearly she hadn't been fed and seemed to be healing slowly from burns she got from the sun as Elijah spotted her daylight ring was gone.

"What have they done to her?"

"They are trying what they did to Elena to get her to turn her humanity on. Y/N had turned it off just a little over day before she broke things off with Damon." Caroline says handing Y/N's daylight ring to Elijah as the three Originals smirked looking at Y/N.

"I'll take it from here Caroline." Elijah says taking off his suit jacket and tie as Caroline looked worried for Y/N as Klaus smirked leading her out of the room.

"No need to worry Elijah is an expert on getting his Sired to turn their humanity back on without the Sire bond." Kol tells Caroline as Klaus nodded leading Caroline away as Elijah closed the door with his foot rolling up his sleeves.

It only took Elijah about a day to get Y/N to turn on her humanity again and at the moment she was freshly washed dressed in one of Elijah's shirts feeding from his arm as Elijah held Y/N in his lap.

"You are doing so well little one." Elijah whispered pressing a kiss on her hairline as his free hand rubbed her hip. Y/N pulled away feeling ashamed for what she had done and wanted out of Elijah's lap finding herself feeling like she didn't deserves such affection.

"No. Stay right here and feed." Elijah said pulling Y/N back against his chest holding her chin getting her latch back on his bleeding wrist. Y/N flushed at Elijah's commanding tone as Elijah picked up on her racing heart while pulling his wrist away and she turned around.

"Getting shy on me now little one? After all the things we've done?" Elijah teased Y/N watching her hide her face in his neck hearing him laugh lightly. Y/N's breathing had calmed as something about being in Elijah's arms made the female vampire relax.

Elijah stood taking his Sired with him wrapping Y/N's bare legs around his waist as his hand cupped her bottom holding her against him seeing how the vampire was falling asleep. Elijah walked out carrying Y/N getting everyone's attention surprised to see Y/N half asleep. Elijah looked at Damon smirking as the Original did what the younger vampire couldn't.

"You got her to turn it back on?"

"Like I said darling, an expert." Kol said standing taking the bag from Elijah winking at Y/N finding her sleepy face adorable. Damon narrowed his eyes watching Kol kiss Y/N's hand and how she cupped the Original's cheek watching him light up as if they both were understanding one another.

"How did you? We didn't hear a thing." Elena said standing up seeing how her friend clinging to her Sire and Elijah gave Klaus a knowing smirk.

"I had Miss Bennett put a silence spell on the room."

"My brother likes to keep his secrets. Not even I or Kol know how he does it." Klaus says watching Y/N nuzzle Elijah's neck taking comfort in his scent.

"Attends que mes frères vioent ce que j'ai vu de toi, petit."

"Tu vas me partager?"

"Oh oui petit." Elijah whispered in Y/N's ear hiking her higher against his chest as Damon frowned wishing he listened to Y/N about learning French. Damon wanted to understand what Y/N and Elijah was whispering about while it seemed Klaus understood perfectly if the hybrid's smirk was anything to go by.

"Wait where are you going?"

"If you thought I was going to leave my little vampire under your care again you are mistaken." Elijah says looking at Elena as he was carrying Y/N out to their car when Damon stepped forward but stopped by Klaus so Elena moved in front of Elijah.

"Elena, I suggest you move. Y/N will be coming back with us." Elijah said mocha eyes narrowed at younger vampire. Y/N raised her head looking at Elijah who's attention was on her right away.

"Petit?"

"I want....to go with you." Y/N muttered softly as Elijah smirked kissing Y/N's temple hearing Damon growl deeply seeing Y/N seemly cuddling up to Elijah.

"If you excuse us, Elena." Elijah said passing the female vampire as Damon narrowed his eyes seeing Y/N bury her face back in Elijah's neck.

"Caroline, you have Elijah's number. Do come and visit." Klaus said sounding smug following Elijah out with Kol. Damon was pissed that Elijah would take Y/N away as he hoped to win her back.

"Damon?" Elena asked confused watching Damon headed up stairs to plot to get his girl back.

"Elijah?" Y/N mumbled feeling warm and half asleep feeling Elijah's chest under her palms and Klaus's lips brushing along her shoulder while Kol planted kisses on her abdomen.

"You fell asleep in the car. We are currently in New Orleans." Elijah said rolling the baby vampire over pulling her back against his chest. Klaus focus on Y/N's collar bone as she flushed feeling Kol nip at her thighs.

"Now fed petit." Elijah said softly raising his wrist to Y/N's mouth growling lowly when she gently bit Elijah's wrist.

"You know Rebekah will be upset we touched her first." Klaus said against Y/N's collar bone moving to the swell of her breast. Y/N whimpered softly against Elijah's wrist feeling a little overwhelmed by their touches.

"When Rebekah gets home she ravish Y/N all she wants. For now we get her first." Elijah said against Y/N's skin as his hand moved along her leg as that night was a blur of hands and mouths.

[gucciforasushirestaurant]

Cheeky Peek...👀

a/n: this is a sneak peak of that kinky smut i told yall about forever ago tehehe....i'm about halfway through with editing it! so i figured i'd let you see what will hopefully be up tonight! Harry is famous, but it's still kind of AU-ish? his fame is a feature but it's only briefly mentioned. ya know? let me know what ya think so far! :)

You were bored, and beyond ready to go home. You hated award season, selfishly. You knew what it meant for Harry, and you were always so proud of him, and his accomplishments. But dammit did you hate all that came along with it. The dressing up, and the cameras, not to mention the interviews. You’d only ever get a question or two thrown at you,but regardless, you were not built for it. 

Harry though, he was a born natural. He didn’t love the attention all of the time, but you knew him well enough to know that he did get a bit of a kick out of the attention. And he knew how to handle it far better than you ever could. It made you feel all the more guilty when, all you wanted to do was stay home, and cook a nice meal together and watch your shows. But you were nothing if not supportive, always taking one for the team, even if the team was just Harry. “It’s just a few hours,” you’d tell yourself.“Just a few hours and then I can have him all to myself the rest of the night.” And that’s what you told yourself, and that's how you ended up here, at some after party, in a dress, vacuum sealed to your body in heels that feel like stilts, and a little too tipsy from the free-flowing champagne.  

Harry had just gotten off the small stage,giving a speech about…something. And while you were so proud of him, and how he commanded a room, you hadn’t heard a word he said. You were too busy gawking at your charming, devilishly handsome boyfriend.

Harry works his way through the crowd, eyes locked on you and a dimples popped as he tries his best to make it to your side. He’s stopped a few times, gives some pleasentrises before he’s by your side again, kissing your temple. 

“You, alright?” he askes. You nod with a hum, looking up at him over your champaign flute. 

“Why are you looking at me like that,” Harry smirks, wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you in. Harry knows the look, its a look you only ever give him when your in one of your moods. And it usually proceeds you sucking the soul out of him. 

“Like what?” you ask, earnestly. 

“Right,” He chuckles, eyes looking down at your lip tucked between your teeth. 

“What? I’m not looking at you like anything!” You defend, leaning up to kiss his cheek. And then it dawns on him.

You don’t even realize just how you’d been looking at him. All pout, and doe eyes, begging to be fucked and taken care of like you deserve. 

“Nothing, honey.”  He places a hand on your cheek smirking before leaning and kissing your forehead “Let’s head out, hm? You look tired.” 

“I’m fine! We can stay.” you lie, grateful that he’s suggested you head out early. 

“Baby,” he says with a smile, but his tone is the one that makes your legs feel like Jell-O, “We’re going home. I did my obligation. I’ll go get the car. You meet me out front, after you’ve said your goodbye to everyone alright?” He askes, but it’s more like a demand. 

You nod with a smile, finishing off your drink. He kisses the top of your head, and you watch him make his exit. 

****

“You sounded great up there, Har.”  You smile reaching for his hand resting on the shift. He laces your fingers togetyoukissigg by the back of your hand. 

“Thanks, Baby Love.” he says with a gentle smile. He pulls up to a red light, looking over at you. “You looked gorgeous tonight baby.” 

“You’ve said that already.” you giggle, feeling  your cheeks warm up. You lean your head back against the head rest, nibbling at your bottom lip, “A few times actually.” 

“And I meant it every time I said it. And I mean it now.” he smirks. 

“You look good too.” you smirk.You reache your hand up to his hair at the name of his neck, playing with the curls there. “Your hair looks nice like this. It’s very 90’s Leo.”  You giggle and he smirks. 

 ��Yeah? ‘S that a good thing?” 

“Mmhmm,” you nod, “and I like this.” You say reaching over tugging  on the shirt he’s wearing. It’s a black semi sheer top, with some lace detail. It’s simple, but paired with the jewlry and the the fact that you can see his tattoos peaking through…you were more than pleased with tonights outfit. 

“I thought you might.” He turns his head to kiss your palm that’s made it to his cheek, giving it two spongy kisses. 

The light turns and his attention is back on the road, so you watch the side of his face instead. Watching as his dimple pokes out when he smiles. “It was written all over your face.” He chuckles after a few moments. 

“What was?”  You ask brows furrowed 

“Those filthy thoughts of yours.” You don’t say a word, just clear your throat, nibbling on your bottom lip and turning your head looking forward. Harry looks over, eyes boring into the side of your face with a smirk. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?” 

“Tell me what filthy thoughts were going on in that pretty head of yours. Hmm?”  

“Noth-” you start. 

“Don’t lie to me, you know what happens when you do.” You swallow thickly looking over at him. For the second time tonight he’s used that tone. That dominant tone that only ever comes out when you ///play/// together. And it’s got you feeling all out of sorts. You squeeze your thighs togetyoutrying to sooth the ache thats sprung up between your thighs. “Tell me.” He presses once more. 

“Just….thinking  about playing with your hair….while you’re between my legs.” you whisper nervously. 

You’d been with Harry for a while now. And you were never one to be shy about discussing intimacy. But when he put on that voice, and with his hand heavy on your thigh, it always seemed to make you bashful.  

“And?” he prompts. Harry knows there's more, there’s always more with you. “My little minx” Harry always joked. 

Really he just wanted to work you up. Get you as frustrated, and hot and bothered as he could, because he had plans for tonight. Harry was finally going to reward you for being such a good girl, for him. Not just tonight and stomaching yet another event, but for all of awards season. You’ve always hated the cameras and parties. You’ve hated sharing him with the world. Selfish yes, but he felt the same about you. He couldn’t fathom how you felt every year around this time when he had to be ‘Harry Styles’ and not just your Harry, being ‘on’ all the time and away from you. But, you’ve been ///so/// good, and he knows he hasn’t been as attentive as he should be these last few months, so he was finally going to give you all the attention he’s deprived from you lately. All the attention you’ve been too shy, or scared to ask for. 

“Your rings.” you finally blurt out. 

“What about them?” 

“I was thinking….” you pause trying to figure out the least crude way to phrase it,“About  feeling them on my ass. I like when you spank me with them, and I like feeling them when…when you finger me too. Its nice.” 

“You want me spank you baby?”Harry asks cautiously, you nod your head slowly. “Why?” he asks brows furrowed, with only a bit of concern “Did you do something to earn you a spanking?” 

You and Harry were no stangers to spanking, or playing rough. But they were usally only reserved for your punishments, or ‘funishments’ as you so dubbed them, as you quite liked the feeling of Harry’s hands on you. 

“Maybe.” you purred.

Now he’s intrigued. This was about teasing you before you got home. But now? This was about playing the game. His favorite game, yours too. He snaps his head over to you as you approached another red light. 

“Maybe?” he quips, “You either broke a rule, or you didn’t baby? Which is it?” 

You take a moment, trying to figure out which way to play it, which way would get you what you wanted most. You could continue to play coy, could lie, or you could be honest. 

You chose the later. 

“I did.” you coo, biting your bottom lip. 

“Hmm,” He hums, leaning over the concoul to get a better look at you. Your eyes were a bit glassy already, a look you only really ever got when you the two of you played. When you were feeling submissive. “And what rule would that be?” 

You look down at his hand that found its way from your thigh to become tangled with yours, twirling the ‘H’ and ‘S’ rings on his fingers. “No panties.” You mumbled. 

He heard you, but he really enjoyed making you repeat things, especially if he knew that you were a little embarrassed. “Louder baby. And look at me.” he demands softly. 

“I’m not wearing any panties.”

“No?” He mocks. You shake your head as the light turns green. Harry smirks at you, before, slowly pressing the accelerator, eyes back to the road. 

“Why would you do that baby? Go to such an important event, a room full of people with no panties on?”  he asks. He knows why, or at least he suspects. But he wants to hear you say it. Likes to tease you, yes, maybe humiliate you a little for being his perfect little slut. 

“I was thinking about the last time. Last week and how we…snuck away.” 

He smirks looking over at you, with lust filled eyes he lifts your hand to his lips and kisses the back of your hand again. He rembers it fondly, as one of the best quickes you’ve had. Definetly the riskiest you’ve ever been, and he’s not stopped thinking about it since. And apparently neither have you. 

“You didn’t wear any panties so it would be easier for me to fuck you in the bathroom again? Is that it?” he probed. 

“Yes,” you squeak.  

Harry rolls to a stop, at yet another red light. Cursing the fact that it seems they’ve not made a single one on your ride back. He looks over at you, dimples out, eyes dark with lust.

“You like being a slut in public baby?” You nod. Chewing on your bottom lip. He reaches up, and pulling it from you teeth, running his thumb over it. “Why didn’t you ask, hmm? You know how to ask for what you want?” you shrug your shoulders, squeezing your thighs tighter together. Harry takes notice and presses further, “Instead you were looking at me like a cock drunk whore.” he tisks, “In front of all those people. If I saw it, you know everyone else did too. Don’t you,sweetheart?” 

“I didn’t - I don’t know.” You pouts

“It’s okay baby.” he chuckles, “I’ll take care of you when we get home okay. We’re almost there. 

“Yes Sir.” you say, with a dopy grin. The honorific just slipped out, before you realized. You may have been slightly embarrassed if it werent for the promise of what’s to come later tonight. 

“Good girl.” He praises, leaning over the consol. He kisses  you once,  twice, and then a third time before you hear honking behind you. 

Harry pulls away from your kiss, seeing the lights turned. There’s another impatient honk before Harry pulls off muttering an “asshole” under his breath, looking in the rear view mirror. You look out your window. Trying to keep yourself from squirming too much as Harry’s hand rested on your thigh, lightly massaging it.

Read it here!

[miraculouscontent]

"Please, get out of my room."

Marinette's hand shook, trying desperately to keep the doll house behind her together enough to protect the Miracle Box. Her gaze fixed on her friends standing there, Rose crouched down to the sad remains of the doll house's roof while the others were looking on in concerned confusion.

Alya stepped forward first, the request apparently denied. "It's nothing, Marinette. We'll help you fix it, don't worry."

Except it wasn't nothing, it was everything, and of course none of the girls could've known that it was everything but it was. She'd barely had the Miracle Box for any time at all and now she was about to be exposed, the doll house feeling like some sort of metaphor for her life.

Raising her voice, Marinette replied strictly, "It's not nothing! Now leave!"

Most of the girls just stared at her, standing awkwardly in place. She asked - no, told - them to leave, and they weren't leaving. Why weren't they leaving?

Her palms were sweaty, making the task of holding up the doll house's wall all the more anxiety-inducing.

Alya huffed, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. "Okay, there's obviously something up—" She crossed her arms. "—and we're not going anywhere until you tell us what it is."

Mylene offered a smile that she clearly thought was reassuring, then held up a bracelet made of yellow threads with five colored beads along them. "We've already given our secrets to this bracelet, so now it's your turn."

Marinette wracked her brain for any memory of said bracelet, wondering if there were a promise she'd forgotten about - wondering if it was an excuse for them showing up out of nowhere - but there was nothing. She didn't even recognize it. Even over the voicemail they'd sent, there was no mention of such a thing.

The wall under her palm wavered, and she had to adjust quickly to keep it in place. She couldn't tell if it was too light or too heavy at this point, but it was ultimately just another thing to worry about that she didn't need. Her gaze flickered to it briefly to make sure it was properly held up, then swiftly focused back on the girls so as to not seem suspicious.

They really weren't going to leave. They were going to force her secrets out of her; force Ladybug out of her, the Miracle Box, everything.

Her stress levels were rising. She was panicking. It was all too much, and she—she...

She snapped.

"I'll—I'll tell you what's wrong!" she began. "You all walking into my room without my permission!"

The girls' mouths all shut in unison, their shoulders tense as they seemed suddenly lost for an argument.

"I didn't want to talk to you, and I definitely don't now!" A particular memory of the voicemail resurfaced, and she was reminded of what they'd said. "I thought you told me that I could talk where and when I wanted to? I thought all of you told me that, and then you showed up anyway?! Why would you lie to me like that?"

The words were bitter, only serving to make her angrier; at them, at herself, and at the whole situation. She hated lying - hated liars - and there was a part of her that couldn't help feeling hypocritical when she had to lie constantly to keep her identity secret.

But another part of her was quick to point out: she lied because she had to. They were lying despite having the choice.

Alya's brows furrowed, and it was hard to tell if she felt genuinely guilty or if she was just trying to think of how save the situation. She glanced back and forth from Marinette to Mylene, then hurriedly took the bracelet and held it out, arguing, "But if we're friends, you have to tell us everything anyway!"

Rose nodded in agreement, fists drawn up to her chest. "And real friends never let each other down!"

Marinette sputtered at first in response, multiple rambling responses trying to come out at once, from reminding them of either their intrusion or their lying to say that they had very much let her down.

Finally, her mouth settled on, "Then I guess we're not friends after all, since I'm letting you down so much! You're always pushing me, and setting things up even when I told you not to, and when everything goes wrong, it's always me who takes the blame, and me who gets teased for it!"

Alix recoiled at the outburst, then averted her gaze, looking somewhere between put off and ashamed as she grumbled, "We were just trying to help."

"I don't want your help! I don't even want you here!"

Marinette breathed shakily, her chest heavily at the emotions building in her chest. She could barely process what was coming out of her mouth and could only wonder how long she'd felt that way. How long had she been holding this in? How much had she been holding in? How long had she thought she deserved to be treated a certain way and took everything like she was the one at fault even if she'd done nothing?

Mental clarity kicked in, Marinette glaring and resolve blazing in her eyes as she asked, "Do you know why I didn't tell you anything?"

They looked on in curious trepidation, obviously not knowing the answer. At first, maybe she hadn't either.

"Because I didn't want you to meddle! Everything just goes wrong and I wanted to just live without worrying about it! I didn't want to  be teased, or talk about Adrien, or be ignored!"

"We don't ignore you!" Alya immediately interjected, taking on an offended tone. "That's why we're here!"

"Then why didn't you know?" Marinette challenged. "You noticed my crush on Adrien, but you didn't notice that I was dating Luka? When he was riding me home from school? When you took all those pictures of us together? I wanted to be left alone to be happy with him without anyone shouting at me about what to do and putting more pressure on me than I already have!"

Rose and Alya shifted in place, not making eye contact.

"You invaded my privacy, you broke my things, and you lied to me! If you're going to make me tell you everything, then—then—" She shook, the tornado of emotions hard to handle. "—then I don't want you as friends! Now get out!"

The girls collectively gaped at her, a few letting out audible gasps and Rose in particular covering her mouth with her hands. Everything went quiet, and Marinette's eyes must've been giving off fire with how any argument lingering on the girls' lips died before they could even come out.

Then, one by one, the girls began to turn and silently walk out of the room, some staying a second or two longer as if Marinette would change her mind if they held to the staring contest a bit longer. Alya was the last one out, her gaze darting up to Marinette one last time in vain.

Marinette just looked away, only reassured that the girls had left when she heard the click of the trap door. She exhaled, her arms stiff and her legs feeling like jelly as everything hit her at once. The gravity of the situation dragged her to the floor, the walls of the doll house falling apart to reveal the Miracle Box to no one but her and the kwami. She'd already cried too many times that day, but the tears were building up again. Anger, sadness, frustration...

Seeing Tikki hover close out of the corner of her eyes, Marinette lamented, "I didn't know what else to do. I didn't have a choice. I was just—and then—and they..."

"I know, Marinette," Tikki said quietly, though it was clear that she had very little comfort to add.

Marinette tried to steady her breathing, but she could see her tears falling onto the floor and knew that she'd lost control of her emotions. In a way, it almost felt relieving, like a weight off her chest that she didn't know had been there, but it didn't stop the terrible feelings from everything that happened that day, and the day before, and the day before that...

"We—" Marinette choked, realizing something and looking up with urgency. "Shadow Moth. He might come after me."

"Ah, but..." Tikki weakly tried to protest, watching as Marinette tried to force herself up.

"Gotta transform. Gotta be ready," Marinette murmured in a daze, her legs wobbling but managing to hold her up. Not letting Tikki get another word in, she hurried to command, "Tikki, spots on."

— — — — —

Marinette hugged her knees to her chest, back against the wall stretching upwards that helped make the bridge where she broke up with Luka. Part of her felt like coming here was some form of self-punishment - a reminder of what she'd lost and why she had to keep it that way - but another part just wanted to be here. It wasn't a good idea to be in her room where everything went down, or where her pictures were, or where the kwami would just remind her of all the things she didn't want to think about. It wasn't like her parents were going to check on her anyway, so she felt it best to be away from it all.

She tried to listen for the melody of the water that Luka had told her about, but every time she thought things were quiet enough to hear it, she would breathe in a little too hard, or Tikki would shuffle around in her purse at a loss for what to say. Marinette sighed in defeat, curling in on herself further and staring at the ground with her eyes half-lidded.

She wished she could go back; back to the day this whole mess started. Maybe she could've avoided Fu, Chloe, and maybe even Alya. She could've stayed in the background, unoffensive and just known as "the clumsy girl," one who didn't lie and leave class unexpectedly with the worse excuses possible. Avoiding Chloe would've meant avoiding her wrath, which meant that there would've been no misunderstanding with Adrien and no "spark" to ignite her crush underneath that umbrella.

Everything would've been so much easier. Maybe she would've met Luka sooner, bumping into him by accident one day and they'd drop all their things, her sketches mingling with his song sheets. They'd apologize and hurry to separate their stuff, then lock eyes and all would be well with the world. She'd stammer out her name when she introduced herself and he'd tease her affectionately, and it'd be okay because she wouldn't be busy being depressed over another guy.

They'd laugh, they'd get along, and there wouldn't be any drama in the way of them getting together. Without her having any responsibilities that would cause her to run off, they'd date, and they'd just... be happy.

Marinette closed her eyes, trying to let herself indulge in the fantasy even if only for a moment. The hold she had on her legs loosened, her hands sliding down until one of her hands brushed the opposite's wrist. She remembered Viperion - Luka - as the hero who thought first just like her and now could never be because of his identity being compromised, yet another by-product of her crush on Adrien in a way.

She exhaled, her thumb futilely brushing over her wrist; over a bangle that wasn't there.

Second Chance...

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, trying to live in fake memories, but when her eyes opened, she still found herself underneath the bridge in a life she didn't want. She stared blankly at the ground, the melody she'd desired still inaudible to her.

It took her a few seconds to realize that the view in front of her wasn't quite what it was before she closed her eyes, and it took a few more to notice the black distressed pants and the shoes splattered with varying random symbols at the corner of her vision. She blinked, unsure if she was seeing properly and wondering if she might be hallucinating after her fantasy, but a quick glance upward caused her eyes to meet Luka's, the brows above them furrowed with concern.

"A-ah," she let out involuntarily, straightening a little. Finally registering that he was there and very real, she inhaled sharply and stood, waving frantically at him as she stammered, "I-I'm so sorry! This is your spot, and I'm taking your spot, and I swear I didn't mean to—" She bent down and brushed her hands along the ground where she'd been sitting, as if she were cleaning it. "—I'll be gone soon, let me just—"

"It's okay," Luka assured while approaching her, his voice even softer than usual but with a tinge of sadness to it.

She stopped, hesitating, then looked back up at him in confusion. They hadn't talked since their break-up and she genuinely thought that he'd be upset with her.

"I'm glad," he said genuinely, "that you can find as much comfort in this place as I do. You don't have to go anywhere."

"...Oh," she uttered, her shoulders easing in mild relief. At least he didn't hate her, she supposed, though the awkwardness in the air was noticeable and she couldn't help noticing that he was keeping a minimum distance of three meters from her.

It hurt.

She fiddled with the strap of her purse, wondering why he was there and how she could've gotten so unlucky as to—well, that part was obvious actually, she'd been unlucky her whole life, but that didn't stop her from wondering what he was doing there. Was it something about his dad, or...?

Against her better judgment, she took a good look at his face, biting her bottom lip guiltily at the tired look in his eyes. He seemed as if he hadn't slept well in a few days, and she couldn't say that she was any different, which made the reason for his expression all the more obvious. It was a terrible feeling, already feeling bad that she made him feel bad and then feeling worse because there was a part of her that was a little glad to have meant so much to him that the break-up actually affected him.  He'd made her feel noticed and seen, something that was rare even amongst her frie—

Ah. Right.

She fidgeted, her feet shifting nervously against the ground. Juleka had been amongst the friends that she'd called out and forced to leave. She wasn't sure how close Luka was with his sister, as most of the interactions she'd seen were when they were in a group, but she was still his family. Did he know?

As if able to sense what she was thinking, Luka spoke up. "Jule told me."

Marinette winced and looked down, ashamed and fully expecting to be reprimanded. She clasped her hands at her waist, trying to mentally prepare herself.

Then, he immediately followed with, "Well, she mumbled it, but I got what she said."

It wasn't quite a joke, but it wasn't anything critical either. Marinette peeked back up at him, her brows scrunched together in confusion. He was smiling sadly, either understanding her or trying to be the sympathetic empath she'd always admired him for.

She averted her gaze, not feeling worthy of making eye contact with him. Sinking back against the wall, she sunk down to her earlier position and muttered, "I-it was for the best. I'm just... better off alone." She flinched at the sting in her chest that the words caused, but continued, "I won't hurt anyone that way. They can't be disappointed in me if we're not friends."

There was a pause, at which point Luka took a few steps closer, still maintaining a distance between them but also closing the gap significantly. "Why do you think you'll hurt people?"

She almost scoffed at that. "You would know why more than anyone, Luka." Though she still avoided looking at his face, she could see his fingers twitch from the corner of her vision. "I lie. I'm a liar! I'm just—" She spread her arms wide. "—I'm going to lie for the rest of my life, and ditch everyone and make them sad and they'll never know why!"

She'd tried to say it in an exaggerated tone to keep things light, but the tears started up. She held them back as best as she could, determined not to cry again when she'd already cried so much.

She heard Luka take a few steps closer, and he observed quietly, "But you don't want to."

"Of course not! But it doesn't matter! I should've known from the start that making friends was a mistake but I did it anyway!" She covered her face with her hands and shook her head. "I can't keep friends! I can't keep a boyfriend! I can barely keep this secret a secret!"

She didn't have to see his face to know that he was processing that. "...You can't tell me."

It was a realization for him, a mix of emotions in his voice and none of which she could place. She imagined he'd thought that it was a secret she'd chosen not to share with him, but that wasn't true.

She lowered her hands from her face. "I can't. I mean, not like—physically can't—it's not like the world would end if I did—" She halted briefly, stiffening at an unwelcome memory of Paris destroyed and underwater. "—o-or, maybe it would! But, it was never about trust, Luka! I trust you, I trust you so much, and I want to tell you so bad but I can't! It hurts but I can't! No one's supposed to know!"

She clutched her head, realizing that the conversation was spiraling downwards fast. She was torn between thinking that she'd said too much and then regretting how little she'd said when she'd broken up with him.

Luka took the final steps to close the distance between then, kneeling down to be closer to her level. "Marinette, I—I can't imagine what your secret could be, but it hurts watching you tear yourself apart like this."

"Well maybe that's how it's supposed to be!" she declared as she met his gaze, his eyes going wide in a mixture of pain and shock. She blinked rapidly, trying to fight the tears. "Maybe I'm just supposed to stay sad and alone forever! I have to do it all myself because that's the rule and it's my burden to carry!"

His heart was clearly breaking for her and it just made everything worse. He reached out to her, hovering his hand over her shoulder as a test and then settling it down with a feather-light touch when she didn't pull away. "I won't force you to tell me, and it's hard to say anything when I don't know what you're going through, but..." He hesitated, clearly feeling like it wasn't his place to say but being unable to help himself. "Couffaines break rules when we want to - when we know we have to - and I don't want to see you break instead."

She raised a hand, tempted to pull his hand from her shoulder, but stopped herself. "I-I don't have a choice. It's too dangerous. I can't let people close to me; I didn't even want to break up with you. You're amazing and sweet and I feel like I can tell you anything, but..." She looked down, defeated. "...you deserve better than this..."

He squeezed her shoulder, though whether it was a mix of offense at the comment, an attempt to comfort her, or both, she wasn't sure. "I can only tell you that I'd never tell anyone if I knew." He paused, as if to consider something, then added, "Even if it wasn't me - if it was someone else you trusted - I just don't want you to carry this alone."

She glanced up at him without moving her head, her mouth moving to reply but she ended up choking, then coughing in response to the air she'd just lost. Luka's free hand found her other shoulder as he leaned towards her, all the concern and love she could ever ask for being offered in his eyes.

He seemed to want to continue their conversation, but found something else to prioritize instead. "Do you want anything? Have you drank any water lately?"

The question caught her off guard until she remembered her coughing and mentally acknowledged that she might've been neglecting herself far more than she should've. Luka's hearing was on point, and she figured he must've heard the dryness of her throat.

She let out a small noise instead of a reply, no words given but Luka understood anyway. He stood up, his hands lingering on her for as long as possible before he turned and began to head back to the Liberty.

She watched him go, an ache in her chest even if she knew he'd come back. It reminded her of the day in the TV station where he confessed and she hadn't given him an answer, or when he'd comforted her after the break-up and she'd just taken it without a word back. It was all left incomplete, with him merely giving her  that respectful smile that told her that she only had to say what she was ready for.

But ready for what, exactly? Ready to talk? Ready for him?

Ready for herself?

"...I—" Her mouth moved on its own, her body leaning just slightly towards him as she said the words she'd always wanted to. "—I'm Ladybug."

It was practically a whisper - equivalent to a pin dropping - but Luka froze nonetheless, his foot mid-raise to take a step that never came. He'd heard her, and he finally moved as he turned to look at her, expression unreadable.

That's when the moment caught up with her, and the panic followed suit. "O-oh—oh no. Oh, I said it—you know—you—" She clutched at her capris, desperate to ground herself, but the hyperventilating was beginning to start, almost harmonizing with the sound of Luka's footsteps as he hurried over to her, closing the gap between them much faster than he had previously.

In an instant, he was on his knees in front of her, arms wrapped around her and lifting her slightly as he pulled her into a hug. She gasped in surprise, still blinking back tears as her senses registered that he was there: his body heat warming her, the fabric of his jacket against her face, the calming color combination of blues and blacks, and the faded scent of his body wash.

"L-luka," she whimpered, "I'm so sorry. Y-you're in danger—"

"It's okay," he assured softly, then again as if to be certain that she heard it, "It's okay."

She hesitated, her breathing still uneven, but she willed herself to release her capris - her fingers feeling stiff from how tightly she'd gripped them - so she could grab at his jacket instead. He responded in kind by hugging her tighter; too tight for a normal hug but just tight enough to bring her back down to reality.

"You're not alone anymore, Marinette," he whispered, "and I'm not going anywhere. I love you."

That did it, and the tears overflowed. She wrapped her arms around him, clinging to however much fabric her hands could grasp as she buried her face into his shoulder. No matter how strongly she hugged him, he didn't complain, simply letting her take whatever she needed from him.

In the silence of the embrace, she could finally hear the river's melody.

— — — — —

Marinette clasped her hands together on the couch, her breathing starting to steady as she watched Luka pour her fourth cup of water since she'd gotten there, the first three of which she'd downed in mere seconds. It was just the two of them there, which was comforting, as Juleka had apparently gone to Rose's house for the rest of the day and Anarka was... well, Anarka, and wouldn't be back until who knew when.

Luka returned to Marinette with a smile, offering the full cup of water to her. She reached for it, then stopped as she noticed how badly her hand was shaking. Taking a few more controlled breaths, she offered him a smile and gently pushed the cup towards him.

At his confused look, she observed, "You haven't been taking care of yourself either."

He opened his mouth, possibly to argue, then looked away from her, his eyes darting around at nothing. She could see the internal conversation in his head, playing out a scenario where he would try to insist, she would insist back that three cups was more than enough for her and he'd also taken none himself, and they would go back and forth until he relented.

His gaze softened, the conclusion to the mental argument clearly reached as he took a few sips from the cup. Rather than sitting on the couch, he sat down on the wooden table in front of it - a typical Couffaine move - so he could face her. Then, offering her a grateful smile, he asked, "How are you feeling?"

She smiled back at him, but it faltered as she stared at her lap, taking the time to legitimately think about the question. She ran her hands along her legs in a slow motion, hoping that it would stop any shakiness somehow.

"...Scared," she answered. "Nervous. Worried. Anxious." She pursed her lips as she realized that she was just listing off synonyms at that point.

Luka leaned towards her, resting his hand over one of the ones on her lap. "But, better than before?" he guessed.

Eyes half-lidded and fond, she nodded. "Yeah, and..." She turned the hand underneath his upwards so she could hold it. "I'm really glad you're here."

"I'm glad I'm here too," he whispered, as if to make sure that this moment was only for the two of them.

They stayed like that for a while, just enjoying each other's presence. Marinette was a mess of emotions, but refused to let go of the hand he'd offered her, her thumb stroking along the back of it.

"...Luka," she said after a few seconds of contemplation.

He didn't respond verbally, but he'd also already given her his full attention, and she knew he was listening.

She continued, "You're the last person I'd ever want to lose. If Shadow Moth finds out that you know—"

"If," he gently interjected, though his eyes encouraged her to go on.

"He'll use you. He'll take advantage of you. I don't want anything to happen to you, but I don't want you to leave either, because I really like you and you make me happy and better and—" She huffed, frustrated by the conundrum. "It feels like it's my fault. If I was stronger, or I wasn't so emotional, I..."

"Marinette."

She looked up at the tenderness in his voice. He set his cup down on the table, then slowly pushed himself off, crouching down in front of her as if to make himself appear as small as possible. His other hand found her free one and he held it, making their hand holding perfectly mutual.

"Do you remember the day we met? When my mom got akumatized?"

She nodded. "Yeah, of course."

He nodded in return, going on to explain, "You needed me to hide you, and I needed you to go get—" He caught himself, half-chuckling as the identity revelation adjusted his memories of that day. "—be Ladybug."

Marinette managed a smile. "You were covering for me, even back then."

He smiled back, looking almost too proud of that fact. "And we needed each other. No one can do everything alone, Marinette, so don't say you're sorry for the feelings that made up the song that's been stuck in my head ever since that day."

She swallowed involuntarily at the reminder of his confession. Judging from his smile widening, he noticed it.

"It's hard learning an instrument all by yourself," he continued, "and sad not having anyone to play to."

"And you want to be the whole crowd?" she asked quietly, her gaze drawn to their joined hands.

"Yeah," he answered, not missing a beat.

She took a breath, knowing it was too late to change things but still wanting to acknowledge the decision anyway. "O...okay. Thank you, Luka."

They exchanged loving smiles, and Marinette could've sworn that the eye contact alone was keeping her heart rate down. The future was still nerve-wracking, but she'd been afraid of it even before she'd told Luka her secret, so at least now she had someone who understood her and who she could talk to about it.

The conversation mutually ended there, but then Luka - wholly unprompted - let out an exaggerated sigh and tilted his head back. Curious, Marinette asked, "What is it?"

He grinned at her, a glint in his eyes that made it clear that he was in a teasing mood now that the atmosphere had lightened. "Does this mean I have to watch Chat Noir flirt with my girlfriend?"

She snorted, opening her mouth to reply before stopping as the words behind the joke caught up to her. She leaned forward and squeezed his hand, eyes wide with hope. "Girlfriend?"

He nodded without hesitation. "You said you didn't want to break up with me, Marinette, and I didn't want to break up with you either."

"Y-yeah, but—" She frowned, conflicted. "I'll still have to leave? Nothing's changed except you knowing why."

"I didn't date you so that we could go on dates," he replied. When she tilted her head in confusion at him, he briefly averted his gaze, a hint of shyness appearing on his face before he steeled himself up and looked back at her, clarifying, "I just wanted to be your boyfriend, dates or no dates."

"Oh. O-oh." And that was all she had to say about that, any coherent words burned away from the blush forming on her face.

Luka smiled hopefully, and Marinette quickly decided that bashfulness looked good on him. "So, if you want to make this work with me, then—"

"Yes!" she replied immediately, untangling her hands from his so she could push herself off the couch.

His eyes lit up, his arms spreading wide as she dropped into his lap, and he didn't recoil when she arched up to kiss him, her movements quick to ensure that there would've been no chance for them to be interrupted. She wrapped her arms around him, neither caring about the awkward position on the floor due to being lost in each other's touch.

There was a soft click when the kiss broke, Marinette promptly pulling herself against him and nestling her face near his collarbone, now able to properly enjoy the scent she'd missed for all those dreadful days they'd been apart.

Following up on what he'd told her underneath the bridge, she tightened her hold and whispered, "I love you too, Luka."

Snuggled so close to him, she swore that his heartbeat picked up, though she didn't have to feel it to know that he was happy, what with the way his hands shook against her and how he placed an immediate kiss on the top of her head. She let herself get absorbed in the moment, allowing herself to smile and think only of Luka, the one who respected her choices and feelings from the day they met.

There was no one else she'd rather share her identity with.

[mmvalentine]

Where We Keep Our Nightmares | Feysand

Okay so, ages ago we were having this conversation about how Rhys's sexual assault doesn't get dealt with... at all in the books, and it's been something that's played in my head ever since. So here is the angst and trauma and all the bad things CW obvs

There’s a pocket realm that Rhys opened in the first few months he came home to the Night Court. No one knows about it, not Cassian not Azriel not Mor, and when Feyre arrives, she doesn’t know about it either. That’s kind of the point.

At the time, Rhys figured he’d need time to adjust. There had been periods after wars when he had done this; days after victory, the smell of fresh blood and the last trickling thoughts of dying fae chased him from sleep and the closest thing he could get to rest was to sit in a world without light until it was dawn. And so after everything, it makes sense to Rhys that he will need to do this again.

This time is different.

Rhys knows it as soon as he is home. For a start, the nightmares drag on not for days but for weeks, and then months. And then, the dark is never dark enough. His old haunts haunt him, and in his despair one night he tears right through the film of reality and recedes into this smallest of realms until he stops shaking.

In the morning, he puts on his suit and is the High Lord of the Night Court once again. By the time Feyre is sleeping in his bed, his visits to the pocket realm are less frequent, but not ceased altogether. How can they be, when he was pinned to Aramantha’s mattress for fifty years? And despite this grudging understanding that the nightmares might just be his constant companions for a while yet, he hates it. He knows from spending hours wandering the library with the priestesses that he is not weak because has fear, but nonetheless he is weak when he is afraid. He has woken in the middle of the night unable to take command over his own lungs, sucking at the air and not receiving breath. He has been incapacitated by memories that coalesce beneath his eyelids and he is simply not strong enough to stop them.

And that is why no one can know.

No, not even Feyre, especially not Feyre, who for months was torn from her own bed and deserves to be held together by someone who loves her.

And she loves him back, too. That’s the damn miracle of her. And when she’s in his arms, when her skin is sliding over his and her mouth marks blessings on his wretched body, it is all he can do to not harm her any further. It is only what he has vowed to her.

There is one time of course, early in the piece, when the darkness crawled under the gap in his bedroom door and Feyre came to find him. He feels guilty for this still- and yet what a relief, that she had woken him. What a relief to pull his head out from the tides of his fear and find her face. The shadows had come shuddering back under his wings and the scent of her hair in the room had lulled him back to sleep after she left.

But that time she was lucky. That time it was just the ink and the ichor that that was crawling his veins and that is stuff that clouds his mind but cannot hurt her.

Not like the pocket realm episodes.

Not like the shakes that get their claws into his muscles, and choke his limbs until talons and fangs leak out. And maybe this is the part that scares Rhys the most- that he can’t control this part, and if he can rip holes in the walls of dimensions in this state, what else would he break?

And so he keeps it all far away from everyone, everyone and especially Feyre.

Feyre has other thoughts.

Feyre has been scared of many things over the course of her short life. She has been afraid of the cold, afraid of starving, afraid of death. She has been afraid of the fae, afraid of magic, and afraid that she will not be enough and not be able to save anyone. She has been afraid of Tamlin, afraid of Aramantha, afraid of Hybern, and once upon a time afraid of the cold High Lord of the Court of Nightmares.

But somewhere along the way she realized that she loved Rhys so much that the fear- it wasn’t so scary any more. And if part of the reason she felt less afraid was that Rhys was the most powerful High Lord in Prythian and he loved her too- well that was something Rhys was all too aware of.

How then can she communicate to him that it was not just okay for him to break sometimes, but that she needed him to? That it would never be equal between them while he held her nightmares for her, but his were caged somewhere beyond her reach and barred from observation.

Because of course she knows. She’s his wife, of course she does.

She doesn’t know about the pocket realm, and she doesn’t know what happens in it. But she knows that Rhys wears masks under his masks, and sometimes she wakes in the middle of the night and the male lying next to her is a glamour.

Feyre says nothing of it. Not for the first few months, when they are so happy that she doesn’t want to make him wear his pain. Not when she can run her fingers across his chest and watch all other thoughts dissolve from his mind like spun sugar in the rain.

But one day, on a very quiet night, she opens her eyes in the small hours of the morning, and just lies there. Breathing in the dark until her lover returns.

When he slides into bed, exhausted and cold, he knows she’s awake.

And he doesn’t know what to say.

The High Lord rolls onto his side to face her, but doesn’t meet her eyes. She shuffles closer, and pauses before speaking.

“Do you know,” Feyre says, early-morning soft, “that Tamlin had nightmares too.”

It’s not often she invokes the name of the High Lord of Spring, and she does not do it to hurt him.

“He never told me,” Feyre continued. “But I knew. And sometimes I think that if he had let me in, I might not have felt so alone, in mine.”

Rhys says nothing.

“Now that I’m with you, I never, ever feel alone.” She strokes his cheek now, just lightly with the pads of her fingers. “But I think you might.”

Rhys finally looks at her, and his violet eyes are on fire.

“I’m not alone with you,” he whispers.

“But sometimes you’re not with me,” Feyre whispers back.

Rhys lets out a low groan and pulls her fingers to his lips, eyes clenching closed once again. “It’s not safe for you in there,” he tells her.

“In where, darling?” Feyre asks.

Rhys looks at her for a long, long time. His thoughts swirl between them, no coherent words, just warring emotions. Feyre watches them, and waits.

“I don’t mean to shut you out,” he says finally. So quietly.

“I’m not scared.” She says it like a secret. Rhys scans her eyes, wanting and not wanting this. Eventually, he agrees.

“Okay,” he says hoarsely. “Next time, I promise.”

And then he reaches for her and tucks her tight against his body, listening to her heart beating and wondering if this is a very, very bad idea.

There are no more incidents for the next couple of weeks. During this time, Feyre watches Rhys laugh with his brothers, argue with Mor, and strategize with Amren. He’s loving and patient and kind and wicked, and when her legs are wrapped around his hips and he’s telling secrets to the soft skin at the hollow of her throat, she wonders where he keeps his nightmares. It’s only a matter of time.

When it does happen, it’s on a day that had felt relatively normal to Feyre. Rhys was himself, spent half the day sparring with Azriel and micromanaged while Mor cut his hair. She goes to bed late; Rhys is already asleep when she gets into bed and she curls up against the warm brown skin of his back and drifts off within minutes.

Feyre does not know how much time has passed when she is woken by the spasms that shake the bed.

She looks over at the High Lord, whose eyes are still closed, but his brow knits together and his mouth twitches in half-words. His fists clench and unclench, his knees jerk up under the blanket.

Feyre sits up and tries to soothe him as best as she can without getting kicked. She calls his name softly, and strokes his damp hair. She lays cool hands on the shields of his mind. They are shut tight. She speaks a little louder.

“Rhys, you’re dreaming. Come back, my love.”

And then his eyes snap open and where there was once night sky there’s just wide panic. He says her name, just once, and then grabs her and they winnow.

Feyre opens her eyes and looks around her. They seem to be in a small space that has some semblance of brick walls around them. But they’re incomplete; there’s also stretches of black nothingness as if someone had started building but then gave up.

Rhys is right behind her.

“Rhys?” she says. “Where are we?”

“The pocket realm,” he whispers, looking straight past her. She frowns, and searches his pale, haunted face.

Feyre steps forward and puts her hands on Rhys’s bare chest, wanting to ask more questions. But Rhys flinches and takes her hands off him.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. He steps backward, and trips over his feet. “I can’t… you can’t…”

His breathing is coming faster now, and Feyre holds her hands up.

“Rhys…”

His back hits a wall and he drops down into a crouch. Feyre takes a step forward, but Rhys yells “stop, please…” and then before Feyre can say anything he’s gone and his beast is snarling at her and snapping its teeth.

“Woah, okay darling, it’s alright.” She holds her hands up and backs away. The beast stalks forward, tail whipping back and forth near the floor. Feyre flicks a glance behind her, and then sits down against the opposite wall. “It’s alright honey. I’ll just be right here.”

The beast huffs, and looks away from her. It starts pacing the floor, trying to climb the sections of wall between the passes of blackness and dropping scales where its flank rubs against the bricks.

Feyre folds her legs under herself, and watches it. When she starts to hum, it takes an interest in her again.

The beast makes a few passes of the room, nearer and nearer her. At one point, she tries to reach out again, but it shrinks back from her and bares its teeth. Feyre drops her hands back into her lap, and it relaxes.

They go on like this for some time, until finally the beast seems to tire, and curls up in front of Feyre. It closes its eyes, and Feyre waits another minute before attempting to touch it again. When she puts out her hand, the beast opens one violet eye to watch her, but does not protest.

Slowly, very slowly, Feyre puts her hand on the beast’s nose. It lets her stroke it, eyes sliding closed again. It sighs, and then shifts back into Rhys.

“Rhys,” Feyre says softly.

“Feyre?” Rhys looks up, and looks shaken. “Where am I?” He scrambles up into a sitting position. “Why are we here, you shouldn’t be here, I should…”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Feyre soothes. She pauses. “Is it okay if I touch you now?”

Rhys closes his eyes, and lays his head down in Feyre’s lap.

“Yes, it’s okay now.”

She runs her hands through his dark curls.

“Well that’s attractive, huh?” Rhys mutters. But his hands are shaking and his face is pale.

“Just breathe with me,” Feyre tells him. She takes deep breaths in through her nose, and out through her mouth. And Rhys follows.

The next night, Rhys is curled around Feyre with her back against his chest and his nose in the join of her shoulder. He’s thinking about the pocket realm, and Feyre can hear him.

“Is it always like that?” she asks him. Rhys takes a moment to answer.

“No,” he says. “Sometimes it’s better. Sometimes it’s worse.”

“I’m glad you let me in.”

Rhys kisses her hair, and doesn’t reply.

“Maybe you can tell me more about it, and what you need from me when we’re in there.”

“You don’t need to do anything for me, just being you is enough.”

“No, come on,” Feyre says. She turns to face him. “Like, okay, you don’t like to be touched? When you’re like that?”

Rhys shifts uncomfortably, and avoids her eyes. “Sometimes,” he says. “Sometimes it’s like… I don’t want any touch at all, I can’t have anyone near me.”

“I didn’t know,” Feyre says quietly. Rhys frowns.

“I don’t like… not wanting you,” he says slowly. He looks up now, searching for understanding. Feyre nods.

“I know you love me,” she says. Rhys takes her hands.

“It’s not always,” he says, demonstrating by kissing the back of her hand.

“Will you tell me when you feel like that?”

“I’ll try.”

Feyre nods. “And not when you’re in the pocket realm?”

“Not… always,” Rhys tells her. He trails a hand over her shoulder and down her side, watching the curve as he goes. “Sometimes…”

“Sometimes what?” Feyre prompts, when he doesn’t continue. He toys with a lock of her hair.

“Sometimes I want you too much,” he says.

“What’s too much?”

Rhys sighs. “Hopefully we won’t have to find out.”

“Maybe I’d like to know.”

“No,” Rhys says quickly. “I get.. dangerous, I think. Sometimes I feel so completely out of control in there, sometimes I can’t stand anything and sometimes I want to devour… everything. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

“I think you’re doing fine,” Feyre says. There’s a pause again. Then she says, “I’m not scared of you, you know.” Rhys buries his face in her neck.

“Well maybe you should be,” he says.

“Tell you what,” Feyre whispers. “If ever I start feeling unsafe with you in the pocket realm, I promise to winnow myself back out. Okay?”

She can feel Rhys’s heart speed up at the thought, but after a moment, he agrees.

It’s a longer stretch this time until the next nightmare. Like last time, Feyre isn’t sure what sets him off. They had had a good day. Unlike last time, she doesn’t wake until they’ve already winnowed. She looks up, and there’s Rhys, in the same loose trousers he had gone to sleep in.

But he’s also not Rhys.

Feyre keeps still, and watches him. Rhys is crouched a little way away from her. His fingers are curled and are tipped with gleaming black claws. His lips are pulled back over his teeth, which have elongated at the canines. Shimmering black scales ripple up one side of his neck, and his pointed ears angle back towards his head. His wings stretch up and back behind him.

“Rhys?” Feyre says tentatively.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he hisses at her. “Winnow out. Now.” His eyes spark, and there’s a warning growl issuing from somewhere low in his chest. She can see his teeth changing shape, back and forth as if they can’t tell what they’re supposed to be.

“I’m here because I want to be,” Feyre tells him. She sounds more certain than she feels.

Rhys moves then, suddenly and disjointedly, and next thing Feyre knows he’s got his hand around her throat and her back is pressed up against the ruins of a brick wall.

“You want to be here?” Rhys purrs. His talons prick into her skin.

“Yes,” Feyre whispers, and reaches for him. She strokes his face, and runs her fingers over his lips. “Wherever you are.” It’s difficult to speak, but the words are important.

“And what about, whatever I am?” Rhys asks her. He’s looking at her but he’s so, so far away. Her feet lift off the floor. But she’s immortal, and she’s not afraid.

“What are you?” she asks.

“I’m angry,” her lover whispers. “I’m so angry I could die.”

His gaze flickers, then, and his grip loosens around her neck. He blinks, and Feyre is just stretching out again when his fist smashes into the wall next to her. Brick crumbles next to her ear, and before she can so much as startle, he’s got his mouth on hers and his tongue demands her attention. His fangs cut her lips, and the taste of blood is bright like copper between them.

And still Rhys pushes forward, his thigh shoves between her legs and his claws tear at her clothes. Feyre tries to kiss him back, can barely keep up but is trying so hard to be where he is. And she knows her fae body can take it.

Rhys lifts her against the wall and squeezes her backside hard enough to bruise. He shoves inside of her, and Feyre bites down hard on her lip to stop herself from crying out. Her eyes water in pain but still she wraps her arms around him as tightly as she can, and threads her fingers through his hair when he buries his head in the crook of her neck. He pauses only briefly, groaning in his throat, before he’s moving too hard and too fast. He pounds into her relentlessly, rows of scales shivering in and out of his skin as it tries to decide whether he’s fae or beast.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, as his hips punch into hers. “It’s okay.” He fucks her so hard she can feel it in her stomach, and all the while his hands roam roughly over her breasts, her throat, her hair. He doesn’t seem to be in control of the way his claws appear and retract, or maybe he’s not aware of them as slide down her back drawing blood.

Rhys lets out a growl that hurts Feyre’s ears, and then lifts her up a little by the hips, only to slam her back hard enough to crack the wall. Feyre’s vision blacks out for just a second and all she can do is hold on to Rhys as loose bricks fall around them and break apart around his feet. She doesn't feel big enough to contain his fury, and yet she must. His grip crushes the bones of her, and the merciless rhythm of his strokes hammers a tattoo that drowns her. His fangs scrape her neck, her teeth rattle with his impact, and she’s just wondering how much her skeleton can actually withstand when he comes, hard and shuddering into her. Her own orgasm takes her by surprise, and she climaxes silently when he does. Feyre keeps stroking his hair as he cries out, and shakes in her arms. Eventually, he slides them to the floor and she sits in between his legs and hugs him while he catches his breath.

When Rhys finally looks up, she gives him a gentle smile.

“Alright?” Feyre whispers.

Rhys looks like he is going to answer, but then his eyes catch sight of her body.

She’s got blood on her chin, and swathes of grazes where his scales have scratched her. There are angry teeth marks in her shoulder in a perfect circle. Black and purple bruises are pulling up around her hips. Rhys turns her slowly, and finds red, wet claw marks down her back. His face contorts in horror, and he throws himself backward and away from him.

“Feyre,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” his face crumples and the scales ripple back up across his chest, flashing as they disappear and reappear in panic. “Oh gods, oh gods, I’m so sorry…” He’s breath is coming in short and sharp now, and his hands pull at his hair.

“Hey!” Feyre rolls to her knees and sit down again opposite Rhys. “Hey, everything’s okay, look, look…”

She holds out her arms and sure enough, by the time he’s lifted his head there are only a few pale lines on her skin and these too are healing fast. Feyre touches Rhys’s chin.

“Dawn court, remember?” she says softly.

Relief visibly floods Rhys’s body, and he slumps against the wall behind him with a moan. Feyre inches closer, and uses what is left of her nightgown to wipe the tears and brick dust from the High Lord’s face. The black scales fade, his talons recede, and when he opens his eyes, she tries that smile again.

“I’m so sorry,” is all Rhys says.

Feyre folds his hands in hers.

“Thank you for letting me in,” she says. “You did not hurt me. You are not alone.”

After that night, Rhys is never in the pocket realm alone again. More often than not, Feyre sits quietly and waits for him to return to himself. And Rhys is so thankful for her because it finally feels like one day, not now but one day, they’ll walk out of that broken place for the very last time. They'll finally be out from Under the Mountain.

*** MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @achernarlight @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @hopefulacademia @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen @fandomstalker27 @realbookloverproblems @dealfea @s-tormwitch @cretaceous-therapod @whenyadoesntcutit @scatterbrainedgirl @whoever-you-choose-to-love @endlessdaydream @themoonthestarsthesuriel

(Also @weavemeamyrtlecrown I feel like this might be a you thing, you've talked about this heaps)

[bonky-n-steeb]

𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴

𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙆!𝘽𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙈𝙊𝘽!𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬:  Your life is as good as it gets. The perfect husband, the perfect daughter, the perfect job. But what you are unaware is that your husband is a deadly assassin and your long-lost friend, now a fearsome mob boss is hell bent on getting you back. But what you don’t know can't hurt you, right?

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦:  psychological disorder, PTSD, domestic abuse, yandere, obsession, violence, cursing. If you find any of this triggering please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.

ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, sᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ

My previous account was deleted so I’ll be posting the stories again. I’ll be changing this one, so yeah.

Inform me if y’all wanna be tagged!

As the Winter Soldier entered the house, his instincts kicked in. The house was too quiet for his liking. He kept the bags on the sofa and started climbing up the stairs towards your bedroom. Oh, how much he loved you. You had never left his side, not when he lost his arm, not when the guilt became too much to live with and he cried his eyes out near you while you said sweet nothings into his ears. He wanted to keep you by side always, he wasn’t ever letting you go. Soon he was going to ask you to leave your job and stay at home looking after him and Iris.  

He couldn’t stand to see the tired look in your eyes, how you managed everything, your job, your kid, the house and most importantly him. In the beginning he was afraid you wouldn’t love him, that you would only love Bucky, but you loved him just as much; though you were unaware that he existed in Bucky. Bucky was an idiot to let you roam free and be away from him, especially when the world is filled with cruel people. He was a fool to let you be friends with Thor or any man in general. You were only his and Bucky’s. He was Bucky only, but he was much stronger and capable than Bucky. He was the one who would protect you, not Bucky. The Soldat loved you much more than Bucky ever could.  

As he opened the door, he noticed you were in the bathroom. As he entered inside, for a second even he was shocked. You were sitting with your legs folded and staring wide eyed at his computer. He noticed you were watching his files and videos and you were so dumbstruck that you didn’t even notice him standing at the door.  

But seeing you watch him do the deed sent a weird wave of pride through him. He wasn’t ever going to tell you any of this, after all it was highly confidential and your life could have been jeopardized. But seeing you now, watching his skilled work with awe, made his chest swell with pride. He deserved to get his work appreciated by his wife; after all, he had put sweat and blood in it, and you weren't even aware, but not anymore. What he failed to notice was that it wasn’t awe on your face, it was unadulterated fear.  

He could clearly see as your eyes filled with tears and you pressed a hand on your face. He knew you were scared, but he would tell you not to be. For you, there was nothing to be afraid of him. As you started to puke, he went and held your hair in one hand while with the other he quietly shushed you. The last thing he wanted was to see you suffer. He wanted to protect you, keep you safe from the world, not hurt you.  

After you emptied your stomach, you slouched besides the toilet and huffed loudly. The tears from your eyes weren't stopping. “Peeking in other people’s stuff ain’t a good habit, doll.” he said calmly as he folded his hands while leaning against the door frame.  

Your eyes widened when you realized that it was Bucky shushing you all this while. But why would he do that, now that you had found his secret. Maybe he was being merciful before killing you. Wait, he was going to kill you!!! You had seen top secret information and there was no going back. You averted your gaze from him as you stared at the laptop. Another video of Bucky’s murders running on it.  

You couldn't exactly make out what the video was as your eyes were filled with unshed tears. “He had a big ass fence and four huge dogs guarding the house. But well, all dogs can be lured by treats.” he said shrugging as if he was talking about your neighbors' dogs and not of the person he had killed. And you realized he regretted nothing; he was talking about murdering people with pride rather than guilt.  

“Make it quick.” your voice was barely audible as pathetic sobs escaped your eyes. The Winter Soldier titled his head in confusion, “And what made you think that I’m going to kill you?” you looked up at him with even more fear. “I wasn’t supposed to see all this. And I’ve seen enough movies and read enough books to know what happens when you see stuff you aren't supposed to.” you shivered violently at the thought.  

The Soldier chuckled dryly “You are right, if they know that you’ve seen all this, then they wouldn’t bat an eyelid in executing you. But... who is going to tell them? Not me for sure. I just need one promise, you aren't ever going to tell this to anyone, no matter what, no matter whose life is at stake. You are going to pretend you never saw any of this. Delete all this from your brain right now!” he ordered.

His commanding voice sent shivers down your spine, “I promise, I promise not to tell anyone....... I'm sorry, please.” you had no idea for what you were apologizing or pleading for. “It's okay.” he said with a faint smile as he picked you up gently and you wondered whether it was the same man capable of killing people in the blink of an eye. As you quietly sat on the bed, you dared not look at him; he on the other hand was lovingly staring at you.

You wanted to tell him to give up this job and start anew, but you knew this wasn't the right timing. “Don't worry, I’ll keep you safe. You don’t have to do anything. Just sign your resignation and I'll turn it in. You'll be safe in this house. You don't even have to ever leave it. The hospital doesn’t even pay you enough for your handwork.”

You looked at Bucky with shock and betrayal, you absolutely adored your work. You wouldn’t ever give up being a surgeon and saving lives. You had spent years trying to reach where you were today, and you loved doing what you did. How could Bucky ever say something like that. He was always so supportive but well, he wasn’t the same Bucky he once was.

“You wouldn’t ever meet any other man. Doll, you don't know how this world is, there are lunatics, murderers and all kinds of bad people. But I’ve vowed to keep you safe and I will. Just don’t, just don’t stop loving me.”  

“You are joking right? You don’t mean that... do you?” You asked unsure of his words. “Why would I joke about this?” Your heart beat so loudly that you knew he heard it. To keep you inside your house like a prisoner, had he lost his mind? You enjoyed your freedom more than anything. And at that exact moment you realized that Bucky had utterly and completely lost his sanity.

“You can’t do that! I love my job and I’m not resigning anytime soon. I have friends for Christ’s sake. I have a goddamn life James! What the hell do you mean I won’t see any other men?” You lost your cool. Enough was enough. He couldn’t control your life; you wouldn’t let him.

You took a deep breath; you didn’t want him to misinterpret your next words and ignore you. “James, I believe it should be the other way around. I think it’s time you drop being a hit man. It’s not safe...” at your words he tilted his head and squinted his eyes. But still you continued, “It’s clearly dangerous. The things you’re doing, they could jeopardize all our lives, you, me, Iris. And the way you kill...” you cleared your throat and shook your head.

“It’s not safe for your mental health too. Look Buck, you think I don’t know, but I know you secretly cry at night. You feel guilty, so just stop now. We’ll work it through before it’s too late.” You said while rubbing his arm.

“Think about Rissie, she misses her dad so much when you are gone. Maybe take a job where you won’t have to leave and you can be with her so much more. Also... the lives that you’ve... umm.... they are taking a toll on you. You are not present with us anymore Buck, you stare off and don’t give a shit as to what we say. And it’s not just me that notices. You get irritated so quickly, it’s difficult Bucky. But it can all change if you want, Buck.”

Soldat’s talented ears ignored every word you said and only paid attention to the fact that you care about him so much. He doubted that you would get hysterical knowing what he did, but instead you were worried for him. You were ready to forgive him. He was the luckiest bastard.  

You saw his love-struck expression and you knew he wants listening to you. “Bucky...!!??? Listen to what I’m saying! Leave that goddamn job!” You lost your cool and yelled at him.

“Do you know why I took that job? They gave me a chance! They gave me my arm back. I would’ve hated being a burden to you and now look, I’m capable to taking care of you. You don’t understand, I can’t leave that job. They gave birth to me.” Your heart ached at his words.

“Bucky, nothing matters if I’m gonna lose you...!!! You are all that matters. And working for Hydra hasn’t fixed you; it had broken you even more. I miss my Bucky. Please, ple....”

At your words, the Winter Soldier snapped his head towards you, “What did you say? Huh, you miss who?” You narrowed your eyes and you couldn’t quite get the meaning of his words. “What? I said I missed Buck, you were so sweet not controlling, I just...” you stopped talking seeing the deadly expression on his face.

“That idiot Bucky is not going to save you! It’s me! I’m the one who will keep you safe. I love you so much more than Bucky ever has. Don’t you understand. Bucky is weak and he is not coming back.” You winced at his cruel words.

“James, you are the Soldat right now? You.... you need help.” You stuttered. At your words Soldat lost his cool, couldn’t you understand and accept his love for you. He raised his flesh arm and slapped you across the face. What was in Bucky that wasn’t in him. He was right, you only loved him as you thought it was Bucky; you didn’t love the Soldat. But he was Bucky, too right?

“Bucky!!!” You held your stinging cheek. You might have tolerated his words but how dare he hit you? You weren’t the one going to sit back and take his shit. In the heat of the moment, you slapped him back. “How dare you?” you screamed at him. He just closed his eyes and took a deep breath; he knew he had messed up big time. The Soldat was scared of one thing: your anger and resentment in him. He hated when he upset you.

“James enough is enough. I’ve had too much of your shit! All I try to do is support you and care for you. I literally handle this house, a job, I look after Rissie, and I take care of you like you are a child. Not once have I ever complaint.

James, I love you so much, but it’s so taxing! Love is not supposed hurt; it’s not supposed to be one sided. I try everything I can to help you. But you? You just don’t care! All you do is come up with stupider excuses. Keeping me home? Making me leave my job? What the fuck is wrong with you?” You shook your head and pinched your nose.

“Look James, I can’t do this anymore. I think we should take a break. We both need to breathe. We need to take a look at things from a different perspective....” before you could continue, he snapped.

On moment you were trying to talk some sense into him and the next you were pinned to the wall with his metal arm squeezing the life out of you. Your eyes widened and you desperately tried to breathe, but he had blocked your windpipe. “Jame...” you couldn’t even continue your sentence.

The Soldat was furious. How could you? How could you suggest that he leave you? You didn’t need a break, you needed him. Only him. And he was going to prove it to you. He wouldn’t let you leave. You started banging your hands on his arm but it was of no use. His eyes were dead, like in the videos. And that scared you more.

Finally, your arms gave out and you were on the verge of passing out. Yet that didn’t stop him, he was a madman with a point to prove. But then a small blood vessel burst open in your left cheek. And when Bucky noticed that, he came back to his senses.

He quickly left his grip and ran back, bumping into the bed. You sagged back down the wall, wheezing. For minutes or for hours you couldn’t tell, you both didn’t dare move. You were shivering and sobbing. And he was contemplating everything, how could he?

He wasn’t the Winter Soldier right now, he was Bucky. Why did the Soldat had to ruin everything? He was fine till it was limited to killing, but ruining his marriage. What could he ever possibly do to make up to you?

Bucky was the first one to speak up, “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I... that wasn’t me; or maybe that was. I don’t know. I’m so confused. You were right, I shouldn’t have joined Hydra. I... I don’t know what to say, what to do.... ,,.... please say something, don’t stay quiet. Please.!” He pleaded with tears in his eyes.

“Tell me, tell me what shall I say so that you wouldn’t snap.” Your voice was hoarse and it was hurting to even say one sentence. “You are right, we should give each other space.” His heart broke to million pieces, but he knew it was right. The Soldat could come back any moment and he was too unstable to stay with you and Rissie.

“I’ll... uhmm.. I’ll leave. I can come here for an hour everyday till...” he suggested. “Please, please don’t. You are too scary. Think about Iris. Just go to Rachel, you’ve denied it for too long and look at us. If she says you are stable enough, come back anytime. But... not before.” Rachel was your friend and an excellent psychiatrist. “Oh, okay. Forgive me please. I’m sorry...”

“Leave please!” You quietly observed as he picked up his duffel bag, which was packed all the time for emergency, and left the room. You got up and followed him, all while thinking of the beautiful moments you shared with Bucky. “Goodbye.” He said and you nodded as he left the house in his car.

“Umm, are you okay? I was worried, I don’t mean to pry. I just heard some commotion.” Sam said as he entered your front yard. Sam was neighbor and a dear friend. He had moved in soon after you had. But you had known each other much before that. He used to frequently visit your hospital with one reason or another. You guessed he had a thing for one of the nurses but he never agreed. He was a light hearted person and you enjoyed his company.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I appreciate your concern.” you tried your best to smile. His eyes quickly went to the bruises on your neck. “You don’t have to be formal, tell me. We are friends. Are you fine? Do you need something.” You couldn’t stop your tears at his concern.

“I’m not fine, but I don’t want to talk about it right now.” You said wiping the tears off. “If you need me, anytime, I’m just one call away.” He gave you a warm smile. “Thanks Sam. I’m so glad you are my friend.”

“You are hell bent on giving me diabetes with your sweet words, lady. Take care of yourself. I’ll be right next door.” He said as he saw you walk into the house.

He quickly exited your house and removed his phone from his pajama. He had to make a call.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

You were in your own thoughts. Bucky hadn’t once called you or showed up in the past six days. You had expected him to come back the next day or at least call.

As you walked back home from the hospital, you didn’t notice the huge Greek god of a man walk straight into you. “I’m sorry.” You said out of instinct without looking up.

You stopped right in your tracts when you heard a familiar yet much affirmative voice calling your name. You turned around and stared right into his eyes. He had changed, become much much bigger and stronger than before. But his eyes, they were the same.

“Steve?!” you asked with sudden excitement. He gave you a radiant smile which instantly improved your day.

Lost in the joy of meeting your long-lost friend, you were both unaware of the pair of eyes keenly observing your every move.

[jomamaofficial]

You should have said something: Finale (Bakugou x fem!Reader)

A/N: HELLO BESTIES, IT'S YOUR *lmao I just realised I wrote sentimental here instead of CRUSTY here* CRUSTY TOE HERE. Now please, for the love of whoever's up there, PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. I'm not going to dawdle along because this was the finale you all were waiting for, so enjoy. Social Media & LinkTree & Discord Server TW: Very gruesome descriptions of: Death, Burning, Heavy cursing, Blood, Abuse. Masterlist Taglist: @spicy-therapist-mom @speedmetalqueen @silentw-lkr @loki-an-idiot @clickbait-official @captainchrisstan @kamalymaly @idk-sam @runrabbitrun3 @power-house-fan12 @mrslawliet @memeingcheetah27 @lonleyweeb77 @midnight-storm Word Count: 1743

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

Sirens flooded the scene, police cars blinding passerbys. Ambulances rushed to the location, paramedics pushing their way through the crowd of people, the heat travelling the smell of iron across the streets of Musutafu. Firefighters reached the estate, dragging people away from the hazard, eyes gawking at the uproar of fire. The house was engulfed in flames, crying voices piercing through the ears of those who looked on. Ashes here and ashes there, belongings erupting into soot and red embers.

A body was heaved onto the stretcher, blood staining the white cotton.

“The heart rate is lowering, I repeat the heart rate is lowering.”

The static noise from the walkie talkie was merely another addition to the tumultuous screams and orders.

Wind ran through his hair, panic stricken over the nurse's face who ran as fast as her environment could let her, the heavy but precious, bleeding body straining her arms and staining her hands.

The door was held open, commands being barked at her.

The reporters bombarded her, obstructing the nurse’s view. She shoved past them; her heart hammered in her chest inspecting the monitor, her movements speeding up as she reached her destination. The body was rushed into the ambulance, attached to pipes and machines.

It was the last thing the public saw before the door was shut and the sirens fled away.

Trending headlines and hashtags spread like wildfire.

Masaru switched on the TV, his wife finishing up her dinner in the other room.

“I am now live at the Bakugou-L/N estate. Word from our information team has come out and the fire has been going on for twenty minutes, however these twenty minutes were enough for Prohero Ground Zero to be sent to the emergency room after a local found him covered in burn marks and injuries inside his already smoking house. Prohero Y/HN is nowhere to be found and all forms of contacts have been shut off. I am now handing over to Tanaka-san who is live at the-”

Switched off. Masaru sat there glued to his seat with his fingers pressing on the power button.

-

Hope came crashing down and you could only stare at the broken screen of your phone, tiny glass particles spewed on the floor.

Your skin was boiling up but your blood ran cold. Your throat dried up but your tears were wet. You couldn’t feel anything but his nails, digging in through the layers of clothing you comforted yourself in.

If you could go back in time, you would have. If you could stop yourself from dialing Izuku’s number, you would have. Anything, anything would have been better than this.

Silence. And you still had the urge to cover your ears. There was nothing to look at apart from your only form of communication. Everything else was black. And the traitorous phone that gave you away was dissipating as well. It faded away from your sight, leaving you a wide smile on your face. Too wide. Stretching from one cheek to the other, your lips were quivering, forcing it to stop. But it didn’t stop. It was getting wider and wider and it was hurting but could you stop it? No.

You couldn’t stop anything. Not this marriage, not this moment, not your own body.

He pulled on your hair and you couldn’t even stop the pain. He crushed your face between his hands, searing pressure building up in your skull and you still couldn’t stop him. He shouted and he screamed and it was slowly seeping into your skull how loud he really was. Nothing would stop. You couldn’t stop it.

You were useless. Your shrieks were useless because he drowned them out with his own voice.

His words were barely comprehensible. You could either focus on the warm blood trickling down your hairline, or him.

But that took energy. And right now, trying to stay alive was sucking all of the energy out of you.

“YOU FUCKING BROKE RULE NUMBER THREE, YOU FUCKING WHORE.”

Rule number three spiked your interest. Not because you remembered what it was. It only drew your attention to him amidst all the repeated curses and the names and the agony, ‘rule number three’ was something new.

Why would you understand rule number three though, you couldn’t even understand why you were smiling, giggling underneath your breath.

“And out of all the people you could have gone to”, he sucked in a breath, squeezing your cheeks. He could feel your clenched teeth fighting against the strength of his hold.

“You fucking went to that useless cunt Deku”, Bakugou spat out, a crazed glint in his eyes as he felt your face shake and crumble under his grip.

“Where is he now huh?” he scoffed, a breathy laugh escaping from the depths of his body.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT PATHETIC BITCH NOW?” Screaming once again, he activated his quirk, missing you by a hair. The flames mocked you, free to move, free to grow.

“Is he gonna come and get you now? See your precious ‘Izu-kun’ anywhere?” he derided, smiling at the blackened area his palms left on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’M SORRY.”

Your tears said it enough, tears that were mixed in with the sweat and blood that dripped from your forehead. All you wanted was someone, someone who would hold you and stroke your head and clean you up. Someone who would take him away from you and let you live in a fantasy where you weren’t wrong anymore.

You apologized in the false anticipation that he would stop, and caress your face and pepper it in small kisses. You apologized in the false anticipation of thinking that’s what he needed all along. Just an apology.

So when he pushed you off of the sofa, your knees igniting in irritantance and bruises, you could only look at him. And when he crouched down in front of you, tilting your chin upwards, your heart almost fluttered at the thought that he would pull you into a kiss. A warm kiss where you would feel at home and feel loved.

The sad part was that you knew that you would forgive him if he kissed you once.

But the worst part was that you knew this would never happen. And it didn’t. But you were happy to live in your delusion. Because your delusion masked the sheer force at which he defiled your body.

The lethal blaze mirrored the lethal blaze that ignited his eyes. And this was the last time you’d ever see such hate, and animosity in them.

With your hands shielding you too late, all you saw was a blinding light shining through you, filling every crevice in your body with a scorching glow. But then it was extinguished by the darkness.

Alarms were going off in your head, telling you to breathe quickly and panic and scream and reach out and find something to see. And you did. And it entertained him.

So small and so vulnerable, scrambling around beneath him to try and escape. But he had you under his grip. And he wasn’t going to let you go until you remained lifeless under him.

Smoke infiltrated your lungs, forcing you to flail and writhe on all fours. You were heaving, trying oh so very hard to breathe in the oxygen that limitlessly surrounded you.

But you were useless. And you couldn’t breathe to save your life.

Coughing and slobbering, kneeling in front of him, you begged.

“Please, forgive me.”

“Please, I’m sorry.”

“Please, I didn’t mean to.”

“PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP. PLEASE JUST MAKE IT STOP.”

The fumes were stabbing at your throat, filling your head with fog.

And your world was running slowly. The noise was slowed, darker and deeper, slurred beyond understanding. The agony was slow; equally as painful, but slow. It gave you little breaks in between to piece everything together, bit by bit.

Growing up, your world was black and white: heroes were benevolent, there to serve the society and protect them whereas villains were malevolent, there to wreck the balance of society and harm them as they pleased.

Growing up, the first people you relied on were heroes. Even as the Number 3 Hero, Y/HN, you relied on your colleagues who worked day and night to ensure the safety of the country you served.

Maybe that was your downfall. Blindly trusting heroes as if they were some sort of untouchable deities who could never harm. Because here you were, taking the last few breaths with your world spinning around you and being snatched away from you.

And it wasn’t at the hands of a villain that you were dying. It was at the hands of your so-called superior, the Number 2 Hero: Ground Zero.

Ground Zero; the hero who everyone respected but feared. His snarl, his anger, his drive. The very hero who was found in every treacherous battlefield. He was the same hero who took on anything he found that threatened the life of the citizens he made his duty to protect from harm's way.

But who would take him on when he caused harm to you?

No one.

It wasn’t the smoke, or the burns, or the bleeding that caused you to take your last breath. It was the realization that no one would save you.

-

The pulse under Katsuki’s fingers diminished until it was nothing. And he cried. Veins standing out in livid ridges, his eyes seared in rage as they watered and dripped down his face, cooling his body in the circle of fire he put himself in.

If he wasn’t trained to suck his guilt up every time his hands were responsible for someone’s downfall, he would have been consumed in his own self loath…

But what was the point of feeling guilty when you deserved it?

It was because of you Eijiro broke up with him. And he internally promised himself he would always stand by this.

Blinking away his tears, he channeled all the remaining energy he had, letting his anger flow through out of his body.

His wrists were giving in but he swore it was the final time. Just one more blow. One more big blow.

Silencing his cries underneath the deafening roar of his explosions, he clenched his jaw, pressuring his body on and on.

No one would find you now. No one would know.

[rogue-durin-16]

YOU DRIVE ME MAD

Summary: Fred's and Y/n's silly rivalry may have more to do with love than with hate; after a fatal incident, some confessions are made.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst-fluff

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa

Warnings: brief mention of violence, blood, language (this seems a lot darker than it is lmao)

A/N: idk man I just love this idiot so here it comes another oneshot. The reader's house is not specified btw. Enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Fred spotted me and walked to stand near me before asking jokingly "On your way to kill a man, Y/n?" Oh, little did he know.

"what is that?!" I exclaimed at the sight of my friend's bruised arm.

"uhm... Nothing."

"who did that to you?" I knew the answer before I even got it. My friend had gone to break up with that Cormac McLaggen the previous night; she had finally listened to us and ended that toxic relationship they had, but apparently she got a souvenir from it.

"It's fine- he didn't mean to- Y/n don't do anything stupid." Too late, I saw red.

"I don't have time for your bullshit, Weasley." I curtly replied bumping his shoulder while I walked past him, making his smile drop in confusion. I never missed the opportunity to start a playful argument with him, but, as I had said, I didn't have time for that.

With the corner of my eye, I saw him joining my friends in the task of trailing after me.

I spotted the bastard chatting with his friends in the middle of the hallway that led to the Great Hall. "Oi, McLaggen!"

"Evening, Y/l/n." That filthy grin vanished from his face when I kicked him in the balls, triggering some gasps from our peers and a grunt of pain from him.

"Listen carefully, you loathsome pig." I leaned over to be eye to eye with him. "If you dare to lay a finger on my friend again— if you even think about it— I'll become your personal nightmare." I stood upright again, his eyes full of hate and rage following my movements. "You don't deserve a bloody warning, but I'm a generous woman." Poison dripped off my tongue, my eyes throwing daggers at him as I stepped back and turned around.

My eyes met Fred's worried ones while I made my way to my friends; they surely had told him enough for the ginger to know this was no time for joking and teasing.

His gaze then flickered behind me with panic and I realized a tad too late I shouldn't have turned my back to McLaggen; at the end of the day, pride overpowered honour in a lot of Gryffindors.

I spun around, grabbing my wand from my pocket, but I wasn't fast enough; before I knew what was happening, Fred was in front of me, serving as a human shield from the jinx.

The unknown spell hit his back and propelled us in my friends' direction. I was quickly on my knees, sitting Fred up and earning a grunt in the process, which I initially thought was caused by the fall. "Are you mental?!" My friend casted an Expelliarmus at the younger Gryffindor, long forgotten due to Fred's actions.

"My back— AH!" He yelped when I tried to pull him up.

"OI!" A first year who had made his way to the first row of students frantically gestured at Fred's back. "He's bleeding!!"

"What?!" I made him lean on me to take a look at his white shirt, now stained with blood. What I thought to be a harmless jinx turned out to be fatal.

"He's not supposed to be bleeding!" Cormac shouted, as panicked as I was.

One of my friends said something about going to look for George while the others shoot off to look for Madam Pomfrey.

"I'm gonna kill him..." Fred mumbled through gritted teeth, his voice shaky and weak. He felt so fragile in my arms, and I couldn't help the tears stinging my eyes.

"Fred—" his hands, which had been gripping my forearms, lost strength as the boy's body relaxed. "For fuck's sake don't fall asleep."

"... 'm trying..."

"FREDDIE!" His twin brother rushed to us, falling on his knees by his brother's side.

"I'm sorry." McLaggen had walked to us, keeping a safe distance.

"YOU'RE DEAD MCLAGGEN!" George stood up before I could stop him. Luckily for everyone, Madam Pomfrey showed up.

"Oh Lord! Mister Weasley, quick! Help me with your brother!" The Healer commanded, and soon they were pulling Fred off my grasp and rushing to the infirmary.

I was left in the middle of the hallway with my friends showering me with worried questions and reassurance.

What the fuck had just happened?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

During dinner, several girls and a couple of boys came to congratulate me for kicking McLaggen's balls, and it would have been a lot more satisfactory if Fred Weasley hadn't stepped in the middle.

As soon as I finished my meal, I headed to the infirmary through the now quiet halls, only to find there were too many people visiting.

Of course, George was there, along with their younger siblings and Lee Jordan, but in front of them stood Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall and none other than Cormac McLaggen himself.

"—already told you it wasn't for you!"

"How is that an apology, Mister McLaggen?" McGonagall scolded him, refraining herself from hitting the boy herself.

"You better fucking run, McLaggen, because the moment I can step out of this bed I swear on Godric I will—"

"Enough, Mister Weasley!" I almost pitied the poor woman. Her House was probably the most problematic. "All of you must go to your dormitories, Mister Weasley needs to rest." I stood on the entrance of the room, unsure of whether I should leave or enter, until Flitwick's eyes landed on my form. He redirected McGonagall's attention to me, and I felt the need of shying away. "Miss Y/l/n," I didn't miss the failed attempt of Fred to move; luckily, he was stopped by his sister. "I suppose you wanted to pay a visit?"

"Uhm... I did, Professor." I confessed, fidgeting with the sleeves of my robe. "I know it's late—"

"Don't take too long." She spoke, motioning everyone to follow her. "Curfew is still at 10." She reminded me in a warning tone, passing by.

As soon as they were out, I made my way to Fred, who lay on his stomach in one of the beds, the sheets only covering his legs an hips in order to avoid the clothing chaffing his damaged skin.

"You have a heart after all, huh?" He teased once I stood in front of him.

"How are you?" He frowned at my genuine question; the ginger surely expected me to make a witty comeback, but again, it didn't seem the time.

"A tad better." He gave me a reassuring half smile, deciding to drop our banter for a night. "Flitwick said he used a stinging jinx but casted it wrong." Fred huffed. "A bloody tosser."

He motioned at the chair behind me and I sat down, scooting closer to the bed. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that he had jumped in front of me. It had hit his back, but I knew it was meant to hit my face —what a mess that would have been—, and I couldn't help but feel a bit guilty.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"It's not on you." I felt my face flaring up at the ease with which he saw through me. I wasn't the first time he did that, but it was the first time he didn't use it to tease me.

"I know, I just—" I sighed. "I don't know." Though my sight was casted down, I still felt his worried gaze on me. "I'm gonna murder him."

"I reckon George will overtake us both on that." He tried to laugh but ended up in a since instead. "Or Gin. Maybe they'll team up with Ron and we'll find a corpse in the Gryffindor common room tomorrow." This time it was me who laughed. "How's your friend?"

"She'll be alright." I informed, distracting myself with a loose string at the hem of my skirt.

"And you?" I met his eyes with a hum leaving my mouth. "How are you?"

"Been better." I confessed.

Silence.

"Can you pass me the water?" I nodded, holding the glass in front of him and putting the straw in his mouth so he could take a couple of sips. "Thanks."

"No worries."

Silence again.

"Did you eat something?"

He scrunched his nose. "Not really."

"I'll go grab something from the kitchens." I didn't get far before his long fingers wrapped around my wrist.

"I'd rather have you here keeping my company." I then sat down again, his fingers only leaving my wrist to intertwin with mines. "I'm not hungry anyway."

More silence.

"Your hand is really soft." I reckon those words involuntarily escaped his lips by the way his eyes widened. "I don't know why I said that."

"Yours is too, surprisingly."

"Surprisingly?" He quirked an eyebrow at me, and I didn't quite realise what his grin was about until I spoke again.

"I imagined they'd be more rough." Oh no. "That came out wrong— I meant—"

"That you've imagined what my hands would feel like?" He was trying to bite back a laugh at the way my face turned red.

"No!"

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Liar."

There we went again; the white flag was out.

"Fuck you."

"Please." My cheeks turned even redder, and I wanted to think it was because of the anger. "You look really cute when you blush."

"You look really cute when you keep your mouth shut."

"Then shut me, love." He wiggled his brows at me.

"I would, but I don't wanna punch you in this state."

"You're very agressive." He pointed out, shocked that I didn't get what he was implying. "I meant with a kiss."

"Ew-" I pretended to gag. "no!"

He tugged on my hand and pulled me to my knees falling right in front of his eyes with our faces inches away. "C'mon Y/l/n, we're dragging this on now." His eyes kept falling on my mouth after I had unconsciously chewed on my lower lip.

"We're... We're not dragging on anything." I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince him or myself.

"Do you want me to start? Alright, you drive me mad." He forced his gaze to be fixed on mine. "You're annoying, rude and a pain in the arse." I huffed. "But you're also quick-witted and caring and brave." Gosh I hated how easily he made me blush. "Sometimes I want to punch you in that pretty face of yours but other times— most of the times— all I wanna do is kiss you." His thumb caressed the back of my hand. "Hell, I threw myself between you and that blonker without thinking twice!"

He raised his eyebrows, silently prompting me to say something, but I just didn't know what to say.

"Miss Y/l/n," Madam Pomfrey called, making me let go of Fred's hand an stood up. "It's almost ten o'clock! Let Mister Weasley rest." I nodded, not even looking in Fred's direction as I exited the infirmary.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRED'S P. O. V.

The morning after the incident, Dean and Neville dragged in an unrecognisable McLaggen; they were probably the only ones who cared about that bloke enough to take him to Madam Pomfrey, though they did it half-heartedly.

I was discharged after three days in, right before lunch, and obviously, I was received as a hero; several people came to praise my bravery or ask how I was feeling, but I just wanted to see one person.

That night in the infirmary I was sure she felt the same way —hell, I had been sure for a couple of months— but after seeing her reaction, I didn't really know anymore.

I could always tell her it was a prank, and we would go back to our usual bickering. "Weasley!" Shit. "Fred!" She specified when the four of us turned at the call of our surname, almost jogging in my direction. "Can we talk?"

"Go ahead, darling." I prompted her without moving from my seat.

"In private?"

"Nah," I begged Godric for her not to see behind my grin the panic that produced me the mere thought of being left alone with her.

"Are you joking?" She huffed and, after taking a deep breath, she spoke. I wasn't expecting her to speak. "So you see, you're cheeky and stupid and not nearly as funny as you think." Ginny spit her pumpkin juice due to Y/n's harsh words. "but I... ugh! Okay— I want to kiss you too."

This time it was Ron who choked on his drink. "What's going on?"

"I feel like we missed an important part of this conversation." George commented.

This time it was Y/n who awaited for an answer. "This is literally the most embarrassing thing ever, so at least say something." She commanded in a rather rude tone, tapping her shoe against the floor.

I winced ever so slightly at the effort of getting up, but it was worth it when I saw her expression as I towered her; I reckon I had never seen her that sheepish before.

"That's a really mean way of saying you're attracted to me." I observed, quirking a brow at her. "Dunno why I fancy you so much."

"Well that makes the two of us." I couldn't help but chuckle at her attitude before cupping her cheeks and bring her lips to mine.

Finally.

Despite being a short, innocent kiss, was enough to make us both blush and grin like idiots.

"Awww" I rolled my eyes at my twin's mockery, knowing damn well I wouldn't hear the end of it.

"Why do I feel like I'm gonna miss you two being at each other's throat?" I couldn't care less about Ron's question as Y/n pulled me down for another kiss.

Almost bleeding to death seemed worth it in that moment.