#did NOT sleep much last night. took forever to fall asleep and just could not stay asleep for more than like an hour at a time

[ectonurites]

bro im so slepby

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Sleeping, Dancing and Mistletoe

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Times when people found evidence that you and Logan were possibly a couple, and the one time you both finally confirmed it.

Disclaimer: Mostly fluff, mentions/illusions to sex, Logan checking you out. Couple of swear words here and there. This has been unfinished in my drafts for at least a week so...yeah. This is finished. little Christmas at the end. Not Proof Read.

For what felt like the thirtieth time in the hour, you turned over with a huff and pressed your pillow to your ears, trying to muffle the sounds coming from next door. 

And just as it finally died down, you sighed and was just about to thank some ancient being for hearing your prayers when…it started again. 

“That’s it.”

Changing out of your longer pyjama bottoms and into some sleep shorts, you made your way out of your room, keeping your footsteps as quiet as you could until the noises faded away and you started to reach your intended room. 

Opening up the door, you found exactly what you were looking for. 

Shaking his shoulder as he lay on his stomach, you whispered his name, hoping he’d hear you. 

“Logan.” You shook him for a third time. “Logan.” 

Nothing. 

With another sigh, you slapped his face gently and said his name once more, a little louder and firmer. 

“Logan.”

Finally, he groaned. “What?” 

His voice was muffled by his pillow but you could hear him just well enough. Or maybe you were just used to his grunts that they were starting to become their own language you could understand. 

“Move over. I’m sleeping here tonight.”

“What’s wrong with your bed?”

“Nothing.”

“Then go and sleep there.” Logan turned his head away from you and scrunched up his pillow beneath his head.

“I can’t. My neighbours have decided tonight is Valentine’s Day 2.0.”

You pushed half of his body with your hands until he finally got the cue to turn over. 

“Too much information.”

You shook your head, “Too much information is what I’ve been hearing for the last hour.”

Finally, Logan rolled onto his back, his covers covering his bottom half, and groaned. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

Logan straightened himself in his bed, giving you room to get in beside him. And the minute you touched his covers, you were glad you had changed into shorts. 

Logan was like a furnace. Just constant heat radiating from his body and for as much as it, at times, got too hot to stand near him, he was also, in your opinion, the best person to fall asleep beside. 

“Just shut up and go to sleep.”

Laying on your side, it wasn’t long until you closed your eyes, thankful that you could hear nothing other than Logan’s steady breathing and the distant clock down the hall that was forever ticking. 

However, just before you fully drifted off, you felt Logan’s hand take hold of yours and you smiled. 

He could be gruff all he liked, but when it came to you, he could be a softie. 

By the time morning rolled around, Storm was in search of both yourself and Logan. So, when she found your bed empty and cold, she figured Logan would know where you were. 

But he was asleep. 

Right beside you. 

Storm leaned against the door frame for a while, taking in the picture in front of her. 

Logan was fast asleep, something that was a miracle in itself, with you right beside him, your head turned towards the windows in his room, his own looking towards you, all the while, his arm slung over your midsection and one of your own hands, holding his. 

“Storm- what are you- Oh.”

Jean looked inside. 

“Looks like someone had a good night.” She smiled before looking back at Storm. “Do you think we can finally ask if they’re together?”

“I’d say this is confirmation enough.”

You shifted in your sleep as did Logan, and the two girls hid behind the corner for a moment. 

You turned your head and the rest of your body towards Logan, all the while his arm held you in a stronger grip and pulled you towards him. 

It took you a moment but you finally opened your eyes, adjusting to the light before your vision finally cleared on a sleeping Logan. 

For a moment, you allowed the hand between you both to reach up and brush the stray hairs from his eyes. It was rare you ever got to see Logan this…calm. 

Serene. 

Rested. 

Unknowingly, you started to run your left thumb over Logan’s arm that still held onto you. 

Then his fingers twitched, running over the exposed skin at the bottom of your back. 

“Are you watching me sleep?” His voice was rough, the first words in the morning. 

“Not anymore,” you smiled, brushing the final parts of his hair out of his face. 

“Thanks for letting me stay.”

Then a cough came from the door. 

Logan groaned. “Is this a new hobby; watching people sleep?”

Jean and Storm laughed from the door. “You two look cosy.”

You lifted your head and glared at Jean. “There is one reason I’m here. Maybe I think it’s time you make an investment in soundproof walls.”

Jean turned a little red and Storm laughed. 

“Look, we’ve got a busy day. You can kiss your boyfriend later.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you called out just as Logan called; “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Storm and Jean nodded and just as Jean snapped a picture, she sent it to both yourself and Logan as they walked away. 

“Sure.”

Leaning up, Logan reached for his phone to see the notification pop up before he placed it back down and you climbed out of bed. 

“They’re got a point.”

“About us being a couple?”

You threw a t-shirt at Logan. “Having a busy day.”

Logan laughed a little, scrubbing his face as he watched you leave his room before he reached behind him and took hold of his phone once more. 

Jean and Storm were right. 

From the picture…they did look like a couple. 

A couple of days passed and you were sitting in the quiet living room, the fires on both sides roaring. 

All classes had been finished for two days and some kids had returned home for the holidays, which meant you had some free time on your hands. 

And for you, that meant finally reading. 

Until you sensed someone stood behind you. 

“If you want to know what happens, you could just ask me.”

Logan plucked the book from your hands and circled around the sofa before coming to sit down beside you. 

“Logan! Give it back.”

“I want to see what it’s about.”

You sighed and sat up, “It’s a romance, Logan.”

“A romance?” Logan had a hint of a smirk on his face. “Like the…trashy kind?”

“Like the romantic kind.”

Logan looked at you and smiled. “The trashy kind.”

You rolled your eyes and took the book back from him, leaving him to fix the blanket so it rested over both of you. He placed his arm over the back of the sofa, allowing you to lean into him, whether you noticed you were doing so or not. 

“Just because you might not believe in romance, doesn’t mean the rest of us are the same.”

“I believe in romance.” 

“Yeah, right.”

Logan couldn’t help but smile. “What?”

“The Wolverine,” you said with a deep voice. “Believes in romance?”

Logan nodded. “Occasionally.”

“Occasionally?”

“Do you just like repeating everything I say?”

You nodded and smiled. “Occasionally.”

Logan rolled his eyes and took the book back from you and read a line out loud. 

“People really talk like this?”

You leaned into Logan. “No, but in a book it’s not so bad. Go on, read some more.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You nodded. “You’re like my own personal audiobook.”

Logan gave a short smile before getting a little cosier and continued reading out loud. 

It wasn’t long before Logan found you asleep against him and he shifted in order to avoid you getting a crick in your neck. 

“Keep reading.”

“I thought you were asleep.” 

“Now I’m awake.” 

“Fine, just be quiet.”

You gave a fake salute. “Yes, sir.”

Holding his arm around your body that was pressed between himself and the sofa, Logan quickly kissed the top of your head and went back to reading. 

And ten minutes later, you were asleep. 

And so was he. 

An hour passed before someone found either of you, but this time, it was Scott and Bobby. 

“They might be in- oh. What do we have here?”

“Oh my god, Rouge has to see this. I told her they were together.”

Bobby rushed off and soon returned, pulling Rouge with him. 

“What is it?” Then she gasped. 

“Believe me now?”

And what Rouge saw made her smile. 

On the slightly too small sofa for Logan, you lay both between him and the sofa, as well as partly on him with your hand a little over his heart. His head was turned towards you. The blanket had fallen a little, so she reached over and pulled it up both of you before turning around and throwing a log onto the fire. 

“Come on, let's leave them.”

“But-”

“No, you are not going to disturb them. Come on.”

Rouge dragged the pair out and closed the door behind her. 

The third time people suspected you and Logan were an item was one late evening in October. 

Half of the kids were playing outside with all the freshly fallen leaves, whilst some of the older kids helped them find different critters and point them out, and build them habitats. The rest of the kids were either in their rooms or studying. 

Save for two. 

Bobby and Rouge were hiding outside of the kitchen watching yourself and Logan cook. 

“I didn’t even know he knew how to…chop. Let alone cook.”

“You should have more faith in him.”

“Come on, Rouge. You can’t tell me you weren't thinking it, too.”

And she couldn’t. Because she was. 

Meanwhile inside the kitchen, Logan was watching you from the kitchen island as he continued chopping the veg. 

There was something different about you. From the way you practically danced around the kitchen finding the different items for the recipe, to just…you. Whilst he was (semi) shirtless, just having his zipper hoodie on, along with his jeans and socks. He would have been fully dressed, except you had come and ambushed him in his room – even though you denied the word “ambushed” – to get him to help. 

And you were just simply in your pyjamas (of sorts) along with one of his zipper hoodies. 

“Bub,”

Logan laid down his knife and walked over to you as you stood by the stove, standing a little higher to see how much water was left in the pot at the back. 

You hummed a questioned response, but was met with a question…you didn’t expect. 

“Dance with me?”

“What?”

Logan smiled lightly as he pulled the wooden spoon from your hand and pulled you closer to him, despite him walking backwards. 

“Come on,” his voice in a light whisper. “Dance with me.”

“Didn’t take you for a dancer.”

Outside the door, Bobby and Rouge mouthed to each other; “They’re dancing.”

And you both were. 

Gently swaying to the music for a while, you allowed Logan to lead you around a small space in the centre of the kitchen. 

“We’re gonna burn the sauce.”

Logan gave a slight smile at you as he spun you out and back in, “We’re not gonna burn the sauce.”

“Logan.”

“Can’t you ever just enjoy a moment?”

“When that moment doesn’t include burning the house down, yes.”

“Bit of a jump, don’t you think, from burning the sauce.”

“Ha, so you agree. We’re gonna burn the sauce.”

Moving over, Logan turned down the heat on one of the pans before taking your hand back into his. “Now we won’t.”

Bobby and Rouge watched, in shock, the rest. 

For one, Logan knew how to dance? Since when? And since when did he…cook and dance in the kitchen? Unless…

Then Logan did something even you didn’t expect. 

He dipped you. 

You hand tightened its grip on Logan’s arm as you let out a small, if a little nervous, laugh. 

Logan had been full of surprises recently. From the impromptu audiobook session in which you woke up in his arms, to him not only dropping off a cup of coffee during your break from teaching but also a freshly baked muffin. 

And now he was dancing with you in the kitchen. 

And dipping you. 

When you had rushed him out of his room to help you cook, you hadn’t expected him to know the recipe for the sauce from the top of his head. Something he just happened to rattle off whilst you were looking for the cooking notebook that should have been in the cupboard beside the oven. Let alone be the one to ask to dance in the kitchen, and dip you. 

Bring you back up, both of you gave a slight chuckle as you turned around, the music slowly fading away in the background. 

“Logan…”

Looking at him, you forgot what you were going to say. 

Had his eyes always had so much green in them? 

Logan’s palm became warm against your back as it pressed further into you. Or maybe you pressed further into him and he just held you tighter. 

Slowly, your hand left his bicep and trailed towards his chest all the while your eyes studied his face. You’d known him for years and seen him a thousand times or more. 

So why did now feel like you were seeing him for the first time? Noticing him? Noticing each particle he was made up of that allowed him to sway with you in the kitchen to the music that had changed on the radio?

Only, before the space between yourself and Logan became any more closer, a noise came from outside the door. 

A sneeze. 

A sneeze that shocked you and Logan back into reality. 

Still holding you, Logan looked towards the door and gave a hint of a smile when he saw the flash of white disappear behind the beam. 

Realising what was happening, you lowered yourself back to the ground and slowly stepped out of Logan’s arms. “We should finish up.”

Logan nodded in agreement, however did look back at you when you got back to the stove, not noticing you do the same a few moments later, watching him pick up the rest of the veg and toss it into the collider to be washed. 

Time passed and after more music, more conversation - including a burnt tongue from when you had shoved a wooden spoon with fresh sauce on, into Logan’s mouth for him to try - and a lot of scrubbing later, you found Logan sitting inside the library and collapsed next to him. 

“Good news, the kids loved the food,” you told Logan. “Double good news; Jean and Scott are on cooking duty tomorrow.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Thank you for helping me.” Turning to look at Logan, you found him already looking. 

“You did ambush me.”

“I didn’t ambush you.”

“I wasn’t dressed.” Logan examined himself. “Technically, I’m still not.”

You rolled your eyes with a slight smile. “Fine. Maybe it was a mini, tiny, miniscule ambush.” 

You made a small space between your fingers. “Like this big of an ambush.”

Logan looked at you, at your fingers and then back to you in slight disgust before moving your fingers wider with his own. 

“That big of an ambush.”

You rolled your eyes and dropped your hand. “And they say us women are dramatic.”

It was Logan’s turn to roll his eyes. However, as he did so, his arm wrapped around you, and pulled you back into him and the sofa. 

“Just shut the fuck up for a minute and listen.”

You did so. 

“I don’t hear anything.”

“That’s the point.” Logan’s eyes were shut as his head rested on the back of the sofa. 

Eventually you gave a shrug and joined him. 

An hour later, Storm found you both fast asleep beside one another so with a knowing smile, she found a blanket, covered you both up and closed the door behind her. But not before reminding herself she needed to get verbal confirmation from you both. 

She wasn’t handing over any money to Jean and Xavier until she had verbal confirmation of what exactly was going on between you two. 

And she didn’t have to wait long…at least in the long run, she didn’t have to wait long. 

Until then, there were plenty more incidents of falling asleep next to each other, bringing each other coffee, dancing to music in the kitchen, smiling and laughing – all before she finally got verbal confirmation that the inevitable had finally happened. 

Finally, it was acceptable to decorate for Christmas. 

Two days prior, Rogue, Logan and Storm had been helping you find all the old decorations in the attic and bring them down. Storm did try then to bribe something out of Rogue, but she apparently was just in the dark as the rest of them. 

But the smile she gave when she looked over at Logan, who was placing down another box from the back of the pile for you to take a look at, told Storm something different. 

“I can’t believe you leave it this late to decorate.”

Logan looked at you. “We’re still in November.”

“So?” 

Taking hold of the garland, you started to climb the ladder. Logan held onto the bottom just to be safe. 

“If you had it your way, the decorations would be up all year round.”

“Hey, no.”

“Hey, yes.”

“I’d take them down for…” you tried to think. “Halloween. You’d have a little break.”

Logan didn’t look entirely thrilled. “Halloween is one day.”

“Technically, it’s a month.”

“To you, it’s a month. To the rest of us, it’s a day.”

You looked back at him. “To you it’s a day, to the rest of us it’s a month.”

Then you looked back at the garland. “How does that look?”

“Great from where I’m standing.”

You looked a little confused for a second before quickly looking over your shoulder, realising where Logan was, in fact, looking. 

Not at the garland, but at your ass. 

You smiled and started to step down the ladder, hitting his shoulder on the way down. 

“I meant the garland.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Logan looked up. “Looks great.”

You laughed. “You didn’t even look.”

With a smile as you finally stepped back into his arm, he looked to the side and up. “It looks great.”

“Good. Now,” Logan turned back to look at you and you kissed him quickly. “We have to put up five more.”

“I get to watch you put up five more.”

You smiled. “This is why you’re my favourite person.”

Logan smiled. He could help you with everything else, but when it came to the garland, you had full control on where it went. Which, he didn’t mind. So long as he got to watch you put it up. 

You quickly kissed him once more, only to be pulled back when you tried to walk away. 

Then Logan gave you a real kiss. 

A little dizzy, you smiled and placed a hand on his chest and closed your eyes. “Wow.”

He gave you a quicker, lighter kiss. “You better get going before Rogue comes back with another box of lights.”

“Light?” Then it hit you. “Oh, yeah.”

Logan smirked a little as he watched you walk away and down the hallway. 

It was a couple of hours before everyone was in the same room, making the final touches all the while most of the other kids were either playing outside in the snow, were taking naps or decorating their own rooms. 

And the others had been watching you and Logan all day. 

The stolen glances, the stolen touches, the slightly knowing smiles from both Rogue and Bobby. And then, as Logan was helping you down from the ladder, his hand on your thigh, Bobby went to make the final hammer to hang up the mistletoe. 

“Wait, no. Not there.”

“Where then?”

Storm looked around. “I know. Y/n, hang this just above there. We don’t need a remake of Mistletoe Central 1997.”

Logan looked at Storm. “Do I wanna know?”

Storm shook her head. “Here.”

She handed you the mistletoe before Logan passed you the hammer back from his belt. 

Three knocks and the nail was set in and the mistletoe was above you on a corner beam, just a little to the side of the christmas tree. 

At least this way, those looking for it, would find it. 

"Oh, no, wait.” Jean said, looking at you. “Have to kiss someone. It’s tradition. You’re under the mistletoe.”

There was no one else apart from Logan.

Logan looked around at the others. He wondered how long it would take. 

Coming up behind you on the ladder, you moved over for him to stand beside you. His palm on your back held you steady and, leaning his other arm on the ledge of the ladder, his hand cupped your face and he kissed you. 

Lasting a little longer than the others had expected, you soon heard Rogue giving a little cheer, as well as a couple of whistles from the others. 

“Okay, I think they get it.” You whispered to Logan as he finally pulled away, a smile very noticeable on both of your faces. 

“Happy now?” Logan asked, turning towards where Jean and Scott were standing. 

“That was some kiss.”

You felt yourself blush at the comment. As did Logan. 

He helped you back down the ladder before you both turned and really saw the other's expression. As well as the exchanging of money between people. 

“Sooo…how long has this been going on?”

You were leaning into Logan, his hand around your back and on your hip. 

You looked at Logan, “A couple of months. We’re…what? November now so that would…”

“That would…” Logan counted back in his head. “May…June, July…six months.”

You looked back to the others. “Six months.”

A chorus of shocked faces and loud voices sounded out; “SIX MONTHS?!”

All before a small call from Rogue was made, which made both yourself and Logan smile. 

“I knew it!”

[rhiannonsknife]

could I put in a request for Lucy MacLean x Wasteland!reader? you both find shelter and you usually take first watch because you’re used to staying up late. Except Lucy has a habit of making your job harder than it has to be because she just starts yapping and won’t go to sleep right away. Take yesterday night for example, you underestimated her ability to run out of things to talk to you about and you lost about 2-3 hours of sleep because of it. Tonight, Lucy’s about 15 minutes into her yap session when you randomly ask her if she wants to have sex, she’s delighted at the idea and agrees. You wanna tire this woman out, what’s a more efficient method than giving her a few orgasms? (maybe even include this being Lucy’s first time being eaten out?)

── GUILTY PLEASURE

— summary: lucy won’t stop talking.

— warnings: kind of inexperienced!lucy. fem!reader. nsfw content. mdni. this took me a month to edit but here we are.

the shelter you’d stumbled upon earlier isn’t much. it’s hardly anything at all: half a roof, crumbling walls, and a faint musty smell.

still, it seemed better than sleeping under the open sky where god knows what could catch you off guard. so, you decide to settle yourself near the door, leaning against the wall with your weapon in easy reach. first watch, as always.

and, as always, lucy is making it harder than it needs to be.

she’s sprawled on her bedroll a few feet away, her head propped on her pack like a makeshift pillow. the dim glow of the dying embers between you throws flickering shadows across her face, as she talks.

“-and, i mean, who even puts that much trust in a filtration system, you know?” she says, her tone exasperated. “it’s like, sure, the overseers say it’ll last forever, but what happens when the pipes get clogged? no backup system, no-“

you pinch the bridge of your nose, cutting her off before she can spiral any further into whatever story she’s telling you from her life in vault 33. “lucy-“

“what?”

“i thought we agreed you’d try to sleep during my watch!”

“we did,” she says, shifting to rest on her elbows now . never a good sign. “but you’re awake anyway, so it’s not like i’m interrupting anything. besides, you’re terrible at keeping yourself entertained. i’m doing you a favor!”

you give her a flat look. “i don’t need ‘to be entertained’. i need quiet!”

lucy scoffs. “quiet seems overrated. besides, what if something sneaks up on you? you’ll want me awake to watch your back.”

“that’s literally my job right now,” you deadpan, gesturing toward what once was a door.

“okay, fair,” she says with a shrug. “but what if you fall asleep? then we’re both screwed!”

you let your head fall back against the wall with a soft thud, staring at the cracked ceiling. “lucy, if i fall asleep, it’ll be because you spent all night talking about pipes and filtration systems instead of letting me do my job and i’ve bored myself to death!”

“i’m just saying, vault-tec could’ve planned better” lucy goes on after a short pause, like you’ve never asked her to stop at all. “like, one person on maintenance for an entire level? no wonder the water tasted weird that day!”

this has been your dynamic ever since you met her: lucy talking your ear off, filling the silence with anything and everything that comes to her mind.

“do you ever stop?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at her.

“not really,” lucy says, grinning. “another thing,” she leans forward slightly. “i get why you’re all about this ‘quiet’ thing, but maybe you’d actually enjoy these little watch shifts if you talked more. or, you know, let me help you stay awake!”

you scoff. “help me stay awake?”

“yeah,” she says. “like conversations, or games, or- i don’t know, literally anything but sitting there staring into the darkness like some broody protagonist in a bad holotape!”

“you’re unbelievable.” you laugh, despite yourself.

she beams, triumphant, and leans back again, her hands clasped behind her head. “you’re welcome.”

the wasteland beyond the door feels vast and empty, the moonlight barely illuminating the cracked ground and jagged ruins. you focus on the shadows, your grip tightening slightly on your rifle. lucy’s voice continues behind you, her words blending into the ambient hum of the night.

another ten minutes of this pass, your patience wearing thinner with every syllable; your initial plan to just wait for her to get sleepy doesn’t seem to be working.

“if i had been in charge of the vault party planning committee, there’s no way they would’ve run out that fast” she’s currently recalling. “it’s simple logistics. one crate for every-“

“lucy,” you interject, your voice flat.

“what?”

“are you ever going to go to sleep?”

“eventually,” she says with a shrug. “it’s not like i’m bothering you, right?”

you sigh, defeated. “you are absolutely bothering me,”

she ignores that completely, her tone turning thoughtful. “it’s kinda nice, though, isn’t it? i talk, you listen, we bond. i mean, sure, you don’t say much, but that’s probably because you’re so fascinated by what i have to say-“

“lucy…”

“-which i get! not everyone grew up in a vault, so my perspective is pretty-“

“lucy!”

she finally pauses. “yes?”

you turn fully, leaning your shoulder against the wall as you cross your arms. “do you want to have sex?”

the words hang in the air for a beat, and for once, lucy falls completely silent. you watch as her face cycles through surprise, confusion, and delight in rapid succession.

“wait, what?” she asks, already sitting up. “do i- are you serious?”

you shrug, trying to look nonchalant despite the heat creeping up your neck. “you’re not gonna sleep, and you’re definitely not gonna let me do my thing. i figure if i wear you out, i might actually get some peace and quiet tonight,”

lucy blinks at you, and then, once you’re fairly sure she will turn the insane offer down, she grins.

you‘ve thought about it before. not about sex, necessarily, but tamer things: you found yourself staring at lucy in the rare moments when she wasn’t chatting away, eyes studying her features whenever she hadn’t been looking your way. you thought about kissing her, too, about her body against yours and-

well, perhaps you had thought about sex with her.

you never figured out what vault dwellers like her learned about sex down there. only that, presumably, she does seem to know what you’re on about, judging by her enthusiasm.

“this is the best thing you’ve suggested so far,” she says, already tossing aside her blanket and crossing the small room to stand beside you.

lucy lingers above you for a moment, her eyes scanning over you as if weighing her next move. she takes her time. when she finally lowers herself into your lap, it’s with purpose, every movement measured. her weight presses into your thighs, grounding you in place, while her palms rest on your shoulders. lucy’s thumbs gently trace circles on your skin through your clothes as her eyes search yours.

to your surprise, you are the first to falter under her gaze, something lucy so clearly relishes. a satisfied glint flickers in her eyes just before her hands glide up, fingers curling around your jaw as she cups your face. without warning, she tilts your head back, guiding your gaze to hers again, brushing absently over the corner of your lips.

“don’t look away now,” she murmurs, a teasing rasp, her breath ghosting over your skin.

her thumb and forefinger catch your chin, holding it firmly as she hovers there, close, her lips parting ever so slightly as if to speak.

just when you think you can’t stand it any longer, lucy finally leans in.

her lips meet yours, soft at first, almost tentative, like she's waiting for some kind of reaction. she grazes the sides of your face, memorizing the feel of you beneath her touch. the kiss deepens quickly, the tension from earlier bleeding away into something much softer, more urgent.

her confidence only falters when she first tries to grind down against your pelvis, searching for a friction you cannot provide. you’re not sure what she had expected, or if she’s moving on instinct, but this is when it seems to sink in that lucy is in no position to fully take the lead here.

“are you a virgin?” you blurt at her puzzled expression.

“no!” lucy says, shaking her head. “no, it’s not- i got married remember…?” she grimaces, recalling the events that had followed her rather short lived ‘marriage’ in vault 33.

“okay, so…” you start. “what’s going on here, then?”

“i-” her gaze flicks between you and some point over your shoulder. her cheeks flush. “i just- well, you know, it’s not that different, right?”

“lucy…” your voice softens, even as you fight back a laugh. “do you actually know what you’re doing?”

“yes!” she says immediately, too quickly. then she hesitates. “well…sort of?”

you give her a look, and her face crumples into a sheepish grimace.“okay, fine, no,” lucy admits, throwing her hands up in defeat. “but i wasn’t going to say that out loud! i thought i could just…figure it out as we went.”

you sigh, though there’s no real annoyance in it. “you’ve been with someone before. why didn’t you-”

“because it’s different!” she interrupts, her voice rising again. “i mean, for one thing, he wasn’t…” she waves her hand vaguely in your direction, her words trailing off like she’s afraid to finish the thought.

“a woman?” you supply.

“yes, exactly,” lucy nods. then, as if to clarify: “not that that’s bad! it’s just- i don’t really know what i’m supposed to- how i’m supposed to…” her voice fades again, and she presses her lips together, clearly frustrated with herself.

“lucy,” you say gently, drawing her attention back to you. “it’s not something you’re supposed to just know. especially if…” you pause, hesitant to touch on something that might sting. “especially if it wasn’t…encouraged where you grew up,”

she frowns, her brows pulling together. “yeah, well, vault 33 wasn’t exactly a…bastion of sexual enlightenment! marriage, reproduction, carrying on the bloodline…i suppose it was always about the next generation, never about- this!”

lucy sighs.

“and, look,” her words come in a rush now, like she’s determined to explain everything before you can judge her. “it’s not like i have a problem with it! i mean, clearly, i don’t, because we’re, uh, doing…whatever this is. i just…i guess i thought it’d be easier to figure out!”

you reach up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. all your previous annoyance has melted away, replaced by a need to show her that this -sex- could be about so much more than just reproduction. “you don’t have to figure it out all at once, you know. we’ve got time!”

lucy’s gaze meets yours, hesitant but hopeful. “we do?”

“yeah,” you say softly, your fingers lingering against her cheek. “you don’t have to take the lead here, either. just…trust me, okay?”

“okay,” she says quietly. “okay, i trust you,”

“good,” you lean up, brushing your lips against hers, slow and careful. her shoulders relax immediately, and when she kisses you back, it’s sweeter than before: less frantic, more curious, like she’s letting herself feel everything for the first time.

you kiss her slowly at first, moving your lips in sync with lucy’s. she’s following your lead now, letting you set the pace of your mouths. she still seems as eager though, and when she starts moving her hips again, you’re prepared:

instead of your pelvis, you maneuver her so that she’s grinding on your thigh, finally giving her access to the friction she’d been searching for.

“o-oh-“ lucy mewls softly, her head lulling back as she ruts against you for a little while. you can feel the warmth radiating from between her legs already, damp through the fabric of her suit.

taking it off will be a risk, of course: stripping naked would make a quick escape damn near impossible. but you decide that, as you feel her arousal drag over your leg, lucy maclean is worth every risky decision that might come with it.

so, as she moves against you, as high-pitched moans start spilling from her throat, you reach for the zipper of the blue suit. it parts smoothly, the soft scraping of the interlocking metal echoing in the otherwise quiet space.

you look up at lucy, only vaguely aware of the white bralette that comes into view now that you’re unzipping her clothes.

you don’t want to make her uncomfortable by blatantly staring but the skin that’s revealed to you makes it impossibly hard. so, instead, you choose another way to show off your appreciation: without tearing your eyes from hers, you lean in and press your mouth to the flesh between her collarbones, then move lower.

lucy gasps, her lips parted and her brows slightly furrowed. it’s her who peels the sleeves of her jumpsuit from her arms, who lets it pool by her hips and reaches for you all over again. who urges you closer by the back of your head with one hand, while the other grabs the hem of her underwear.

“wow,” you gasp, dumbfounded when lucy -your lucy- tugs the bra upwards enough to free her bare chest from the restrictive fabric. she smiles, shyly, and tilts her head.

her nails sink into your shoulder the second your mouth closes around her nipple; she’s responsive there, more than you ever were, more than you thought she’d be. so responsive that lucy starts moving her hips more frantic when you roll her other nipple between your index and thumb.

and still…”more,” she whines softly, greedily, dragging her soaked center across your flexed muscle. “i want you to touch me,” she breathes. “please”

you trail slow, open mouthed kisses down her torso, your hands gliding over the curve of her back. you press lower, as far as you can reach, until your neck twists at an almost painful angle and lucy's hand finds the back of your head, cradling it gently.

that’s when you shift, moving her body so she’s leaning against the wall and you’re positioned between her spread legs.

lucy watches you through curious eyes, studying your every move as you get to kiss down her body more comfortably. you hold the eye contact, despite the need to stare at her chest (her nipples still hard and wet with your spit) until you have to pull the zipper lower and peel the fabric from her legs.

you slide it off and tuck it beneath her, allowing lucy to rest on it rather than the dirty floor, leaving her in a pair of panties matching the white bralette.

lucy’s body shudders as you kiss back up the expanse of her legs, the muscles in her thighs tensing. obviously, you don’t stop there: you crawl up further and further until you’re almost at the apex, reaching for the waistline of the underwear and-

her legs clamp together suddenly, forcing you back.

“what-“ lucy stammers, unsure. “what are you doing?”

“i was gonna-“ you lick your lips, dropping your hands to her hips. of course lucy has no idea what you were going to do. “can i-“ you consider your words, unsure how to explain it so she’ll understand. “-put my mouth there?”

lucy’s eyes widen. “you want to-”

“please,” you whisper. “please, can i eat you out?”

lucy -her own want betraying her- whines, her hips jerking towards your mouth. from here, between her legs, you can see the wet patch of arousal that has soaked through her underwear.

“okay,” she pants, nodding frantically. “okay, yes. please!”

immediately, you reach out, hook your fingers underneath them and pull the panties down her thighs. you take your time making sure to securely place them in one of the suit’s pockets so they won’t get dirty, before finally turning your gaze back to lucy, who’s waiting in anticipation.

she lets you take in the sight with a nervous look on her face, biting the side of her index.

your fingertips absentmindedly trace the skin, watching the way lucy’s body parts for you. she is beautiful, endlessly beautiful, glistening with arousal, and framed by coarse hair.

“i’m sorry, i should’ve-“ she begins, but you immediately hush her.

“you’re beautiful,”

lucy inhales breathlessly, her fingers forming a v-shape and spreading herself open for you to see.

“fuck-“ you mutter under your breath. lucy’s clit is throbbing.

slowly, you make your way up her thigh. in response, lucy buries her fingers in your hair, sighs softly as she invites you in, and spreads her legs wider.

you nudge her skin with your nose, nipping on the tender flesh.

the first time you put your mouth on lucy, her legs close around your head. her jaw goes slack and her brows furrow in concentration, adjusting to the new sensation.

you start with featherlight kisses to her swollen clit, each making her buck her hips against your face.

“o-oh!” lucy stammers from above, looking almost confused, surprised by how good your lips feel as they brush over her. “that feels so good,” she breathes finally, her body rolling down against your tongue.

“yeah?” you murmur, soothingly wrapping your arms around her thighs to hold her open as you circle her clit with the tip of your tongue.

“mhm,” lucy nods, but it comes out more like a whine at a particular good press of your lips. just as lucy buries her fingers in your hair, seemingly wanting to push you closer, you push her apart and lick a broad stroke right through her, getting your first actual taste.

instinctively, your eyes roll back, the lewd moan that rips from your throat drowned out by her skin.

“g-god-“ she stutters. “that’s- ah- good.”

unbeknownst to lucy, the sweet praise goes straight to your center. if you had a pillow, or anything useful around, you’d shove it between your legs and grind on it while you eat her out.

but, regardless of your own lack of relief, her words encourage you to lick deeper, to move faster inside of her and show her all that she’s been missing out on. you alternate between fucking your tongue into her, and wrapping your lips around her clit to suck on it, all while lucy pulls your closer, guiding your tongue to where she needs it the most.

you gladly let her, ignoring the occasional sting of your scalp at sharper tugs.

for a while, you eat lucy out like that, getting lost in each of her desperate attempts to stifle her sighs and her taste in your mouth. her words have morphed into muffled babbles above you, incoherent sounds of pleasure.

it doesn’t take long at all until she is getting closer: her head has lulled back against her bag, her moans come out more ragged and breathless, and the leg she has thrown over your shoulder trembles with tension as she pushes her heel down on your spine to urge you closer.

instead of teasing lucy, you go right for it.

your lips close around her clit again, just as two of your fingers sink into her. squirming above you, lucy mindlessly grinds her hips to your face, aching for that release. she chants little ‘ah, ah, ah’ sounds, her cunt tightening around your fingers so much it’s hard for you to thrust them in and out of her.

both your nose and your chin are covered in lucy’s wetness, glistening in the dimly lit space as her hands curl to fists in your hair.

“i feel…” she begins, trailing off. you’re not sure she knows what she’s feeling. or maybe she’s in disbelief because you only have your hands and mouth to use on her and still it’s enough.

either way, you encourage her, putting your thumb in place of your lips, rubbing her clit with the wet pad of your finger to keep her on the edge. “that’s it,” you mumble.

lucy chokes on her noise of approval and just nods her head instead. “yes,” she whispers, over and over, like a prayer. “yes, yes, yes! i’m gonna-“

that’s all of a warning you get before her whole body tenses. her lips are parted in a silent scream, her hips jerk forward once more before it all comes crashing down on lucy. the sound she makes is somewhat between a cry and a moan of your name and she arches her back from the ground when she cums.

you manage to tear your gaze away from her convulsing cunt to catch a glimpse of her, so lost in the haze of her pleasure: lucy’s eyes are shut tightly, her head thrown back so much that the entire expanse of her neck is on display for you.

her walls tighten around your fingers, trying to suck you in deeper, to keep you in place while she trembles with the force of the orgasm she’s riding out on you.

only when her body has stopped shaking, you lean back, not wanting to push her too far. she’s already given you more than enough.

“phew,” lucy says once she’s caught her breath. it’s so ridiculously lucy you have to bite back a laugh. “is it- is it always like this?” she asks by the time you’ve crawled back up her body and slumped down by her side.

you reach for her, not even thinking about it properly until you’re already cradling her face, your thumb grazing over her jaw soothingly. lucy doesn’t seem to mind.

“no,” you manage quietly, taking in her features in the dark. “no, it’s never been like this.”

luct turns her head to look at you, her expression open. she’s still flushed, her hair mussed, her lips kiss-swollen, and she’s smiling.

“i liked it,” she says, voice hushed. then, as if realizing how simple that sounds, she rushes to clarify: “not just because of- well, you know…but because it was you!”

you swallow hard, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. “yeah?”

lucy nods, shifting so she’s curled against your side, her fingers idly tracing patterns against your arm. “yeah.” a beat passes, then: “i think i wanna do that again. like…a lot.”

you laugh outright at that, tilting your head to press a kiss to her temple. “you really are something else, maclean.”

she hums, pleased, before shifting closer, tucking herself against you like she belongs there. you don’t realize how quiet it’s gotten until lucy is fast asleep in your arms.

[rubyvhs]

୨ৎ your camera roll when you marry dean winchester

Dean asks you to marry him on a not so random Tuesday. He had planned it months in advance, and you were so very aware, but you loved him enough to keep acting clueless. You were ecstatic when he finally asked, thinking that he’d decided against it if he hasn’t done it this long, but it was perfect. You’re shaking when he puts the ring on but you try to snap a picture anyway to show to your parents. They reiterate that you shouldn't be allowed to hold a phone. It’s a small wedding, the way you’ve always imagined it. Small enough that you get a couple (six) tables and put them next to each other just so you could all eat together. Dean’s never liked an idea more— everything you did to plan for your big day made him fall in love all over again. Everything was precious and meaningful. His toast took you all by surprise, not the fact that he gave one, but what he said— god, you cried that day. Cried way too much, honestly. The photographer was a successful idea since the two of you didn’t even think to care about capturing the moment, too busy living in it. You, for some reason, decided it was a good idea to have a tattoo parlor at the wedding and Dean, suddenly, decided you should get matching tattoos.

The first night you and Dean settle in your cabin, the one you saved up for years, it’s special. It’s magical. You almost cry, hugging yourself as you stare at it, the yellow lighting from the inside and how the tress cover it, exactly like you’ve always wanted. You always love big gestures and going out, but at the heart of all that it’s important to you that your home is simple and just you. It’s the place you’re supposed to feel the most comfortable. And Dean knows that as he steps behind you, wraps his arms around your waist and snaps a picture of the house, telling you it’s so you never forget this moment. Once your honeymoon (the two weeks Dean spent in bed with you) is over, Sam takes you both out for dinner. You act so in love that he’s sure he’s gonna throw up a couple of times— but he snaps a picture just incase. Just incase this is the last time he sees his brother happy, in love, and being bossed around by a woman demanding he buy her the pistachio Tres Leches. You both go home that night and a few hours on the couch proves to be bad for your back. Dean asks what you’re doing as you slither down onto the hardwood floor of your home. You confess that as a child you used to opt sleeping on the floor to sleeping in a bed. You take out your phone to show him pictures your mother took and sent you, ones she found on an old hard drive, and he can’t help but want to capture the moment forever.

You smile at Dean, telling him how good he’s gotten at taking pictures. When you first met him, it was the last damn thing on his mind, now it’s all he does. He love keeping these moments for the both of you. And ever since you had the twins, Dean had to buy three phones. No one told him you can pay for storage these days. He’s always snapping pictures, especially in the morning when you’re too asleep to do it yourself. He’s convinced thags when you look your best, out of bed and cuddling his kids, looking out at the sunrise. And then you get some payback by taking some candids of your own. Your phone is practically flooding with them, Dean’s a better father than you ever expected, he’s always reading to your son, encouraging him but trying to teach him to still be a mean, and he’s always spoiling your little girl, calling her a passengers princess and making her feel like she’s the only thing that matters to him.

You click one last photo of the two of them before your phone screen blinks. ‘Storage full’.

It’s alright, it was never about the photos anyway.

[anathemaspeaks]

pas de deux

character(s): toji fushiguro synopsis: [ˌpɑː də ˈdəː] a dance for two people, typically a man and a woman. word count: 1k warning(s): none (so much fluff i promise it's worth the read) a/n: i'm SO down bad for him HELP

check out my prompt list and request stuff!

likes, reblogs, and follows are appreciated <3

toji was not a romantic. the very idea made him scoff. the thought of getting soaked in the rain to meet someone was just absurd. what idiot would voluntarily fall sick for something as irrelevant as that. it baffled him, truly.

…

until he found himself standing at your door at four in the morning.

drenched to the bone, a strong arm raised to knock at your door. it took three tries, and you finally opened the door, hair tousled, eyes wide, and mouth agape.

you immediately ushered him inside, fretting over him. you gave him one of your largest hoodies (which still clung to his frame like a compression shirt), and a pair of loose shorts. you turned up the heater and gave him a blanket, forcing him to relax while you handed him a cup of hot coffee.

"toji, what are you doing here? aren't you supposed to be asleep?" you inquired, worry etched onto your beautiful face and surprise evident in your voice.

"ya ain't getting rid of me that easy, doll" he replied while smirking, clearly trying to underplay his current state. he was still shivering from the cold, his wet hair clinging to his forehead.

you sat next to him on the sofa, moving closer and snaking your arms around his muscular torso, your warmth seeping into his cold body. you leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his jaw before snuggling closer, nestling into his broad chest.

he couldn't say he wasn't loving the attention, but that wasn't what he came here for.

you both were texting when you'd confessed that you weren't getting any sleep, and you were really stressed out as of late. you also revealed that the last time you had a comfortable sleep was with toji.

that was a whole week ago.

after that, he said he was going to sleep, ending the conversation with a 'goodnight doll, love ya.' you smiled at your phone before closing the message app, opting to scroll through instagram to keep your restless mind occupied - sleep was out of the question.

but of course toji was worried about his girl.

the concern gnawed at him. he couldn't stand the thought of you so helpless and distressed.

of course he couldn't - especially now that he knew he could help. he would rather die than see you in any kind of pain. and that's how he found himself soaked in the pouring rain, with only one goal in mind: to help you.

and now here he was, in your home, his strong arms finally wrapped around you.

"baby, i'm not complaining, but how come you're here?" you spoke, voice muffled because your face was squished against his body.

"y'said you only got sleep 'round me" he stated, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. your heart lurched at his words. he ran for ten minutes through a rainstorm...all for your sleep?

"toji, i-…thank you" you choked, getting emotional. the night did that to you sometimes. but you just loved him so much. toji sensed it and let out a chuckle, the sound reverberating in your chest.

you could listen to that dumb laugh forever.

"you're getting soft, old man" you teased, a playful smile on your face. you didn't have that much of an age gap, but you never passed up the chance to bring it up.

he tutted. "y'want me to stay or not, brat?"

you giggled at his tone, burrowing deeper in the comfort of his presence, letting out a content sigh. from over his shoulder, you could see the sky clearing up, the rain slowly stopping. you saw it getting lighter, soft, golden rays striking toji's dangerously gorgeous face.

you looked at his lips, a content smile gracing his features, scar only emphasizing his already perfect looks. you trailed up to his eyes, warm, and filled with so much love and devotion it took your breath away. you could drown in them.

he couldn't stop staring at you, not when you looked this angelic. it was like the sunlight formed a literal halo over you - he was convinced you couldn't be real.

he looked into your eyes. the gears in your head were turning - he could see it.

"toji..."

"yeah, pretty girl?" he smiled, one that was so radiant it could put even the most magnificent sunrise to shame. your breath caught in your throat. he was so pretty.

...

"dance with me" you sighed, already pushing yourself up.

"it's 5 a.m., babe" he chuckled softly at your antics. you were always up to something.

"and? dance with me!" you demanded, taking both of his large hands into your own, trying to pull him up (and failing, miserably).

but he could never resist you. he wouldn't. you were his world. all you had to was ask, and toji would do it in a heartbeat. so he got up, buff arms enveloping you into his warmth once more.

"mmph- toji, needa play the music!" you said, voice obscured by his chest.

"we don't need music to dance, doll"

and so you stayed in his arms, his body gently rocking yours, moving to a beat only the both of you could hear. occasionally, he'd twirl you around, dipping you down to kiss you right after, just so he could hear your sweet laughs.

you don't know how long both of you danced for. you don't remember it, but you fell asleep in that very position - in his arms, while standing. you didn't even realize how exhausted you were.

you woke up in the comfort of your bed, still trapped in his arms, light snores escaping him. he must've carried you here. he was definitely going to fall sick, but honestly? he couldn't bring himself to care.

he might catch a cold, but in that moment, all that mattered was the gentle rise and fall of your chest, and the content smile gracing your gorgeous features.

toji was not a romantic. but for you, he would get soaked in the rain a million times. for you, he would do anything to put a smile on your stunning face. for you, he would do anything.

i love him i love him i love him i love him

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

hi! I'd like to make a request from that prompt list: "it's as if my entire life i have been sinking in a storm and you came and pulled me out." + with General Marcus Acacius, with him being the one to say that sentence, if that's alright. thank you anyway :)

The last few days have been hard for me, mentally, but I hope I managed to fulfill your request. Thank you, sweetie. ❤️ i'm sorry for all mistakes

warnings : a little bit of smut, unprotected sex (don't do that!), mentioning war, mentioning gods, fluff

prompts list here

No victory, no treasures, no victory parades, no favors showered on him by the Emperor's hands were comparable to what your gaze gave him. He searched for it in chambers full of men and women, who, drinking wine, admired everything he and his troops had brought back from another expedition.

No, these were just empty moments. Meaningless to Marcus, because he didn't want that. He only wanted to see the face he loved again.

And finally he saw you. Among other women, wives of senators and high-ranking officials. You looked at him with love and reverence, the glow of candles reflected in your eyes. Even more beautiful than when he left Rome.

You raised your glass of wine towards him, and he did the same. The gods were kind to him, he came home...

"What is troubling you, Marcus?"

Your delicate hand on his shoulder, then gently slid down as you moved closer to him. You rested your chin on his shoulder, snuggling up to his bare back. The warmth of his body always delighted you. You knew the tiny freckles on his body better than the constellations of stars in the night sky. 

My Marcus...

There was no answer. Only his hand rested on your knee, stroking it gently, and his eyes closed at the tender kisses placed on his neck.

"You're never able to fall asleep when you come home." You said quietly "Should I ask for a tent to be set up for you in the garden? You'll still be able to feel like you're among your legionnaires."

A small smile crept onto his lips. "And I would give up the sweetness of your body, love? Never." He turned his face to brush his lips against your temple "I'm sorry, this silence... It always makes me anxious. I can't sleep. I keep hearing all this..."

"War?"

Your fingers slid into his curly hair, so pleasantly soft. Marcus nodded.

"War, the screams of people, the sound of fighting... There's so much of it in my head."

"I wish I could take this burden off your shoulders, Marcus."

"You already do, my love. Just one look from you is enough to make me feel free."

He needed you, you could feel it. Wrapped in a sheet, you crept onto his lap. The cool night air seeped in through the open windows, but you didn't feel it. Soft and warm light filled the chamber, the scent of jasmine enveloped you both, and you stared into the face of your beloved man.

He had a few more wrinkles, a few new scars that you had already managed to kiss between intoxicating moments in the sheets, a few more gray hairs, but his eyes - they were still your Marcus's eyes.

General Marcus Acacius could command the entire army of the Roman Empire, but next to you he was your Marcus. He was the man you gave yourself to and wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

"I hate it when you're so far away from me." he mumbled, his eyes hungry for your sight, moving lazily over your face. "It's not fair."

"I don't like it either. I'd rather have you here, by my side, under me, inside me..."

Brown gentle eyes quivered slightly. Strong hands gripped your buttocks and pulled you closer, so that you felt his half-hard cock between your thighs.

"The Emperor should be sated by now. How much more of the world can you lay at his feet? Even maps have their limits."

"You deserve all of this..." you frowned in surprise. "You deserve the whole world, all the gold... I would lay this world at your feet, my love."

"I wouldn't accept that. I only want you. I want you to be mine, forever."

You took his face in your hands and came closer, kissing his soft lips tenderly. His manhood twitched noticeably near your entrance. 

So many months of abstinence meant that the first few days together were spent mostly in bed. If you had to go somewhere, Marcus always made sure you felt his seed flowing lazily down your thigh. Knowing that he had possessed you just before his meetings with high-ranking Romans gave him a sense of even greater power.

Marcus couldn't get enough of you, if he could he would spend the rest of his life not on the battlefield, but between your thighs with his cock buried deep inside you.

You rested your forehead against his, closing your eyes, your hand resting on his chest. You felt his heart beating hard under your fingers.

"So much rests on your shoulders, Marcus. I wish I had the power to take it away from you..." you whispered.

"You already do, my love. The fact that I hold you in my arms instead of holding my sword is a grace of the gods."

"The gods wouldn't make you fight. The gods wouldn't take you away from me for so long. The gods wouldn't risk your life." you replied defiantly. You risked the wrath of the gods, you loved him so much.

"They were the ones who allowed us to meet and be together. And they are the ones who will give us everything we need." Marcus' voice was soothing, flowing over you like sweet honey. "Oh, sweet creature... If only you knew..."

"What Marcus?"

"How much you mean to me, how you save me every day... It's as if my entire life I have been sinking in a storm and you came and pulled me out. Thanks to you I feel like I'm truly alive..."

Tears sparkled in your eyes and you blinked them away quickly. You couldn't have expected a greater gift from fate than this man.

When you spoke, your voice was trembling, "So let me save you once more. Let me take all the hardships off of you."

You slid your hand between your bodies. His cock was already hard enough that you guided it towards your center. You lifted yourself up slightly, your entrance still slippery from the last time you made love, and then you lowered yourself onto him. The wonderful feeling of his cock stretching you out took your breath away for a moment.

"Oh, gods..." Marcus moaned quietly, "You are everything, love. Everything."

You let him lose himself in you. You allowed him to find relief and solace. And when it was all over, Marcus fell asleep peacefully. You were his goddess, the only one he worshiped. The only one he lived for.

[mschievousx]

now and then | b.b.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x ofc

summary: loraine silva always knew she was not normal. she loves unusual things. she loves her father's guns, horses, boxing, climbing a tree, falling from a tree, engineering, astronomy... oh, and a man eleven years older.

series masterlist

xii. twelve: let it go

benedict bridgerton has not left his room for days now. he laid down with his agony, curled on his sheets. his pillow wet in the tears that served as witness of this torment.

most people grieve for those who don't know what they have until it is gone. but, what about those who do know? those who tried their hardest to hold on, yet could only look on helplessly while they lost the thing they loved the most. isn't it so much worse for them?

how many sleepless nights now, he does not know. when they were together, he avoided sleep so he could have more time with her. and now that she is gone, he wishes to sleep more so he might know fewer hours of her absence, and perhaps, spend longer in dreams with her.

it took him days to even talk, forgetting his own voice as he got so familiar with his cries. he wanted to be happy but found it painfully hard as her love was his happiness.

yet, what if love is not here to make us happy? perhaps, it exists to show us how much we can endure.

but benedict did not want to endure anymore.

for the first time in a long while, he was terrified. oh, how terrifying to face the future without the one you planned it with. how can you wake up from a nightmare if you are not asleep?

someone knocked on his door, one that he has recognised as anthony's knuckles by the firmness of the sound. he did not want to stay on his bed forever, so he desperately pushed himself out, trying to see what has been of the others. he neared to open the door slightly ajar before sitting down on a couch defeatedly, his brother surprised by the turning of the knob.

he stepped in, noting the desolateness of the room. he wanted to be there for him, but losing a loved one you were never able to fully love was a different kind of pain—one that anthony was not familiar with at all.

so, he did the only task he was left with. he walked to him, giving the pad he has been holding unto to his younger brother.

"her journal," he maintained his voice in a serene one, seemingly afraid that anything higher would trigger something from the other.

benedict turned to him at that with shock. he did not know she writes. he often thought the girl preferred saying her thought out loud than put it to paper. he opened it, reading from entry to entry, word by word.

a small snicker left his lips when the most he could read about was how the young little silva had fun infuriating him. it was clear on her handwriting—the curve of the letters, the stretch of its end. she was full of excitement when she was writing this. it was written in her point of view. he turned the twelfth page over, only to find that no entry follows anymore.

"why did she stopped writing when she was eight?" he turned to the older, eyes still with traces of redness. it was around the time armand had snitched his daughter to benedict, saying that the girl likes him.

"she said there was no longer a need to write what she felt because she can say it to you directly." anthony offered him a small smile, leaning down to turn the pages to the last, "she wrote on the day she left for the parliament."

the viscount watched as his brother traced each word with his fingers, afraid that it would be lost before he even realises it. noticeably, this one is written in the way her words talked to him directly. anthony placed a hand on his shoulder before stepping back again.

"i guess she knew she could no longer say it to you again."

my artsy,

i think i have loved you since i met you. i just mistook it for curiosity.

there are so many forms of love, and although it may have begun unromantically, i knew you were someone special to me. i would like to apologize—for coming into your life just to break your heart to pieces and leave you in the night.

i really would have loved to be able to attend the astronomical convention with you. we spent a night talking about it. if i knew i will not even get to go, i would have rathered spent the time with my lips in yours.

and so, if regrettably, the gods had it planned that this life of mine will never be enough to show you all my love, i promise—i will find you in another. and hopefully then, i still wouldn't run out of love and continue to pester you on to the next, and next, and for eternity.

because my love, we were never a match made in heaven. i am afraid afraid we are made in both far ends of the farthest cosmos.

and i will search every star, every galaxy, every universe, and every timeline until i find you.

know that i love you, down to my last word.

until we meet again,

forever your loraine

he pushed the pad farther from his eyes, afraid that the ink would smudge and her words can no longer be read. he held his head down, anthony going to his side at once and offered an arm at him.

benedict leaned weakly to him. he had told her before, and now it became his reality. the young lady was a fire—his fire—and he does not find himself worrying even if she will burn him. despite her absence, she still set him ablazed. he longs for nothing but her. how many life does he have to burn before he lives with her? and he could almost hear a whisper.

a hundred more. just a hundred more.

and he almsot felt relieved at that. a hundred more would be nothing. he was even prepared to burn thousands. that was how bewitched he was.

she was lovely—extremely, completely, entirely.

yet, even if it is full of love, all a ghost can do is haunt.

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

the following day, lady bridgerton could not hold it anymore. her son was spiralling away. she missed him. so, she ascended their stairs, aiming for the room of the said son.

anthony has told her that he was, at the very least, responsive. she did not want her son to be reduced as someone thankfully responsive. benedict has always been full of colors.

he was an art himself.

she knocked, turning the knob and was surprised it was not locked. violet entered slowly, seeing the figure behind a canvas.

she called out to him, "my son, come with us."

there was no response, continuing to walk towards the man. entering the room fully, she could see random sketches of the young silva.

picking up a paper, his mother commented, "she was beautiful."

violet could hear a small hum from her son, still not tearing his gaze away from the art he is currently working on, "she will forever be."

she warmly smiled at that. the son who has repeatedly told her before that what she and edmund had was rare, now utterly taken beyond mortal relations.

she placed an arm around his shoulders for comfort as she took a look at the painting, "you love her so much."

he added a detail on her features, "if i could say it in words, there would be no reason to paint."

her heart broke for his son she almost felt like it was her fault. maybe, that was why the two met each other and loved each other when they were still too young. they were not meant to grow older together.

she placed a peck on top of his head, "will you come out with us soon?"

benedict placed down his brush, exhaling defeatedly. nonetheless, he turned to his mother with a weak smile, "after i finish this."

violet nodded at that before giving him back his solitude. it took quite the days before he completed the artwork. the sun rose and set, yet the stars only dimmed.

on the night he finally finished the painting, the dead of night was clear and the stars began to find their shine once again. a hopeful thought graced his mind.

perhaps, someday, somewhere, at a less miserable time, they will see each other again.

he turned to his table, scrambling to get a paper and pen. he will not let the night go on as if it was just any other night. this darkness shined a light, one he only recognised when the girl was present. and maybe, you can call it a pathetic attempt of hope, it was the young silva watching him as his hand gripped the pen.

my loraine,

i will remember you longer than i knew you, and i will never come to terms with that.

thus, i will find you when you return, even if you are a thousand years late.

give me your permission and i will continue to love you in another. believe that i will run amock across the universe until i find you.

and so, when you see the world ending in the newspapers, trust that it is my work because i still have not met you again.

let us make us happen, some other time.

until we meet again,

forever your artsy

perhaps, they were right in putting love into books and poems—perhaps, it could not live anywhere else. they did say that everything will be fine in the end. and if it isn't, then it is not the end yet.

he has learned that grief is not accepting that she died. it is acknowledging that she is still alive in everything that he does.

and so he hopes—he hopes that all this grief stays with him because it is all the unexpressed love that he did not get to tell her. he will never let this go.

indeed, what is grief if not love persevering.

the pain will remind them of each other. when they meet later, if there is a later, they will recognise each other by it.

and just because this life is painful, it does not mean the next one will be.

taglist: @aadu2173 @imgondeletedis @pumkiinpasties @rebleforkicks @perseny @everavenclaw @datingbtr @peetahpahkah @myo11 @idek-what-to-put @aysamuka

[chiefdirector]

Promising | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

Tim had experienced many awful things in his life but none would be considered worse than this. The moment he had found his wife again, she had been snatched from his grasp leaving him helpless to aid her once more. If he had believed in a god he would have thought that he was being punished for some past sin. 

But he wasn’t. 

No matter how much he blamed himself at this moment there was nothing he could do but wait. The paramedic in the back of the ambulance told him that she would most likely be fine, that on first inspection there seemed like there would be minimal damages. Tim had wanted to believe them, but with every hour that (Y/N)’s surgery  dragged on Tim believed them less and less. 

The idea that he had come so close to getting her back almost killed him, and had he not had the chance that she may return to him, he felt like he would've died then and there. He had waited this long, he could wait for her for these last few hours, no matter how torturous they felt. She would return to him soon enough, he had enough hope to believe in that. 

-----

Professionalism was normally one of Sargent Grey’s areas of expertise. The man had decades of experience with the public and felons alike who pushed the lines of crime and morality alike. But as he stood across from Regina Diaz he could not help that every fibre of his being wanted to bring down every article of the law on this woman, and he was determined that she would never breathe a lick of fresh air again. 

He was furious as to what she had done to the department, and to his officers. The damage she had caused was unfixable, and the Bradfords, as well as everyone in the Mid-Wilshire Division would be forever changed because of her. And yet, she sat tall and arrogant despite the cuffs keeping her attached to the table. The maroon scrubs she wore did not seem to deter her confidence at all. Grey clenched his jaw, before taking a seat opposite the woman who had caused so much grief.

“So where should we begin?”  Grey flipped the file he held open and thumbed through the pages, trying to not show any weakness for Diaz to exploit. “The very apparent drug operation that me and my officers caught you in, red-handed may I add? Or how about the contant threatening of my officer’s well being for the last two years? Or how about the assault with a deadly weapon charge for that same officer you have been threatening?”

Regina smiled, “Hmmm… They're all good options, but maybe we should start within your department instead. After all, I couldn’t do all this without a little help.”

-----

It had been a while since Tim had watched his wife sleep. In the early days of their marriage, when work took a mental toll on him, he would stay awake far into the early hours of the morning, watching her chest rise and fall as the room was gently lit from the rising sun peaking through the curtains. It had relieved some of his anxieties, knowing that she was there and she was alive, and now, even after all this time and torment, he found the same comfort yet again. 

He used to spend hours just watching her peaceful face, wondering what she was dreaming of. Could it be hot beaches with white sand, maybe it was a winter’s night at home, or could she be possibly dreaming about him, about the two of them together. 

It felt oddly comforting to watch her sleep again, even if it was from the most uncomfortable hospital chair ever made. If Tim ignored the tube coming out of her arms and the incessant beeping from the machines by her side, he could pretend for a moment that they were back home and she had fallen asleep in their own bed. If he closed his eyes for a moment, he could pretend that none of this ever happened at all.

But Tim didn’t want to ignore all of the hospital equipment, no matter how daunting it was to see, as it meant that his wife had returned to him. And he didn't want to pretend it didn't happen at all, because even though he had lost and grieved her, he had her back now, and he knew just how much she completed him. No matter how much Tim had loved her before, it had only grown tenfold since he saw her again. Despite the blood and the medical equipment attached to her, she was safe, she was almost home, and most importantly she was alive.

-----

“And why would I believe you?”

“Because, Sargent, it doesn’t make sense otherwise, does it now.” Regina said, not letting her smile waver once. She could tell she was getting under Grey’s skin, and she enjoyed it thoroughly. But she couldn’t toy with him forever, as fun as she may find it, she needed to be on the court’s good side, and that includes cooperating with the authorities. “How did two detectives fall off the face of the earth and their case worker didn’t know where they were all day? Riddle me that.”

“I can’t, but I'm sure you already know the answer, don't you Ms. Diaz?”

“I think it’s time we brought in my lawyer, if we are going to negotiate that is.”

-----

(Y/N) shifted slightly in the bed as she tried to shake off the familiar feeling of sleep mixed with some form of medical cocktail. She had woken up in a hospital numerous times during her career with the LAPD, but none ever felt as disorientating as this. Her body felt slow and her chest felt heavy. Gently, as not to cause any more damage to herself, (Y/N) moved her head to assess her injury. From the sharp pains from the movement and the vague memory she had from before she lost consciousness, she could tell that her shoulder was thoroughly messed up. But as she went to look at it, her eyes wandered down to her chest, where the weight was radiating from. The pressure came from her husband’s head resting on top of her. He looked so peaceful asleep, as if nothing could have ever burdened him. She could vaguely remember seeing him at the Diaz house, but now she had the time to take him in fully. He had a new scar on his hairline, it was pale and faded, he must have gained it not long after she had left on her assignment. His shoulders were still hunched over, even in his sleep he carried his stress there. His arms had gained more definition, and so had his hands. All of these changes were to be expected, (Y/N) knew how much this would have hurt him, exercise was always an escape for him. 

What she didn’t expect though was to find his left hand bare of any jewellery. He had taken off his wedding band, and a good while ago too. He bore no tan line or indentation to indicate he had worn the ring recently. She understood why he would have done that, she knew that she couldn’t have expected him to wait for her all this time but it didn’t cause her heart to sting any less.

She wanted to let him rest, but if the roles were reversed, and it was Tim in this bed, she would have wanted to be awakened immediately, even if he had moved on with his life. Slowly, as not to scare him awake, (Y/N) lifted her good arm and positioned herself to run her fingers through Tim’s head. 

He roused quickly, clearly a trait he had never gotten over since (Y/N) had last seen him. Groggily, he looked around the room to find what caused him to awaken, although the realisation came to him quickly as he snapped his eyes to meet (Y/N)’s. “You’re awake,” he stated, as if it wasn’t obvious, but (Y/N) chose not to comment.

“Yeah, I uh… woke up a few minutes ago. I thought that you would… you would want to know I'm awake, so you don't need to worry anymore.”

“What? Why wouldn’t I worry? (Y/N) you mean everything to-”

(Y/N) smiled sadly, “You don’t have to lie to save feelings, Tim. You’re not wearing your ring.”

“Oh.” Tim said, trying, and failing, to suppress a soft laugh, only stopping completely when he saw (Y/N)’s saddened expression. Quickly, he reached down his shirt to pull the chain he wore over his neck and unclasped it, letting the band fall into the palm of his hand. “I wore it on a chain. It… hurt to see it every day but not to see you. But I couldn't live without it, hence the chain. That way, even though I couldn't keep you, I could keep it close to me, close to my heart.”

(Y/N) watched as the gold band slipped back into its rightful place. She didn’t know what to say, there was a thousand and one things that needed to be said, yet not a word spilled from her lips. Tim watched as her eyes darted to one side, he knew it was one of her tells. “Shh, it’s okay baby, you don’t need to say anything right now, we can talk later. I’m here, and I’m not leaving you. Not now, not ever.”

“Promise?”

“As long as you promise you won’t leave me again. I don’t think I would survive that, losing you another time.”

“I promise.”

Part Seven | Part Nine

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Tags: @xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424 @salty0cracker

Tags are open :)

A/N: Have a merry christmas if you celebrate, and if you dont i hope you have a great festive season. Enjoy this extra long chapter, i couldn't help myself lol.

[onestopanime]

Another writing prompt from the discord I’m in. This one is nsfw so 18 and over only.

Prompt were: hair pulling and wearing out Lucanis out to the point he falls asleep.

I’ll be posting this also to my AO3 and it goes with my Rook oc story poison in the garden

———————————————

A sharp breath echoed throughout the dim study of the lighthouse were Iris took as residence. She slow rose from her make shift bed, hands raking over her face in exhaustion. The past couple days have been rough on her and the team more issues popping up every day to the point where sleep was becoming a luxury. Standing up from her spot with a light stretch to her aching bones needing to have a drink of anything to dull the thoughts.

The Lighthouse proper itself was quiet. No gentle whispers of Emmrich’s reading to Manfred. No sounds of Taash sharpening weapons for the team, a small task Iris had found them doing in the late hours to their side from everyone. Not even any stragglers in the main common area. it was just painfully quiet, causing her thoughts to grow even louder.

Even in the fade time was quite interesting. Day and night cycles were so much different than how it should be. It took everyone a moment just to adjust to how rapid the night seem to go. But it always had a certain charm to the courtyard. The “night” sky of the fade’s personal haven for us was comforting but even that didn’t dull her thoughts. Continuing her journey up the stairs, walking into the dining hall.

Entering through those doors she could almost feel massive weight roll off her shoulders. The soft scent of herbs and spices that Lucanis recently brought were present in the air. But the thing that did surprise her a little bit on entrance was how quiet it was. Maybe for once Lucanis was asleep and Spite was keeping to himself with that book I lent him last time we kept each other company. A small smile painted on to her face as she began rummage for one jar of tea that he specifically always bought for her, begrudgingly of course though.

With a quick flick of her wrist, she lit the fire underneath the pot using her magic trying to boil the water. Leaning her back against the counter behind her, eyes closed just to focus more on the sounds of the gentle bubbling and hissing from the kettle. Hoping that this would be able to bring sleep back to her.

“Flor que tú haces aquí a esta hora?”

“Fuckkk!!” She exclaimed while slightly jumping out of her skin. “Coño no te oí!” Placing a hand to her chest and trying to breathe normal again.

“ Then you should remember to always keep an ear open for your enemy.” Lucanis chuckled as he moved closer to tuck in a stray curl back behind her ear before attending to her kettle.

“Luca you don’t have to do that..” she whispered while walking up behind him wrapping her arms around his middle.

“Shh deja que yo hago esto para ti.” He whispered back while pouring out the water into one of his many coffee cups and placing in the tea leaves allowing it to steep.

They stayed like this for what felt like forever to them. Iris’s arms holding him securely against her soft body. They’re breathing almost in sync with one another’s. Lucanis slowly bring one of his hands to Iris’s arm, tracing the geometric design of her floral tattoo before peeling her arms off of him and turning around around to hold her back.

That was the moment when Iris finally properly see Lucanis’s face to see he was maybe even worse than she was. She knows that the look of exhaustion was present but it was to the point where she could hide it just enough. But on him, the level of exhaustion just painted on his face made her heart ache. His eyes darken with what looks like to be days of no sleep so evident that even coffee wasn’t doing its job to keep him up anymore.

“ Luca cuando era el último tiempo que tú dormiste?” she asked him worried while placing gently, her palm to his face, stroking his cheekbones.

He turned his head towards her palm, gently kissing it looking at her with those tired eyes, “Tú preocupas demasiado por mí.”

She shook her head lightly, chuckling under her breath something he couldn’t even put together from how exhausted he was. Away from his embrace, she placed her smaller hand, his leading him out of the dining hall. He just followed her too beaten down to even asked questions to where she was even taking him, just allowing the quietness and stillness of the fade to cover them. Slowly returning to the lighthouse proper and entering her underwater oasis of a study.

“Sit..” she commanded to Lucanis once they were right by her sofa.

Not even an ounce of hesitation, he just followed her command so loyally. Iris’s hands found purchase on his face and hair. Slowly scratching his beard and scalp watching his eyes flutter in bliss and a deep groan creeping out from his lips, only fueling her to continue her work. Slowly moving her hands to cradle his face to look up at her and smirking at how already relaxed he looked. His deep brown eyes -finally regaining a little bit of that sparkle that she loved so- falling deeper into her own mixed green and amber gaze lovingly.

“Es bien claro que nosotros necesitamos dormir.” She spoke oh so gently while stoking his beard.

“Flor tú sabes que no puedo.” He mumbled drunkenly from her gently handling of him.

“Cómo tú tienes control por eso.” She smirked as she straddle his hips and pressed her lips against his neck and peppering her kisses gently to his skin.

Lucanis’s hand quickly found his way to her wide hips grabbing on to ground himself. His own voice stuck in his throat with only deep moans being worked out of him with each kiss and nip his flor leaves on his neck before silencing him with a deep kiss. It was instantly a one sided win over dominance with this kiss. Iris finding a way to just have him be absolute putty in her hands. Each nip to his lips, each brush of their tongues, each grind of her hips down on him brought him closer and close to the edge.

Her kisses only became more and more intense the moment she just felt how hard he was getting just for her. Breaking the kiss with only strings saliva connecting it together she went back to working at his neck, biting on his ear, grinding even harder against his lap and back to his lips. She craved to see that drunken expression on his face.

His hands tried holding her hips down in pitiful act of defiance not wanting to come in his pants like a teenager. But to no avail in stopping her from dragging out pleasure from his tired form. As one of his hands slowly move to grab her ass- over filling in his grasp- his other slowly began to trail up her back with small chills rolling down her spine from his gentle touch. Slowly his hand finding his way up behind her head, fingers curling around her long black curls, pulling back enough for her head to leave his neck, ripping out a lovely strangled moan from her lips. His grip stayed firm on her hair as his own lips moved up to start his own work of art on her neck. So lost in the moment his hips began to sync with her grinds, breathy moans from the two lightly filled the still air of the study.

Lucanis feeling his climax rising gripped hard on her ass rocking his hips more firmly and biting down on the crux of Iris’s beautiful tanned neck muffled his moans. His hips slowly losing rhythm and power, his grip on her loosing with his body relaxing deeper in the sofa. Looking up at her look at the mess she was too. Eyes blown out of lust, her curls all messed from his hands, lips bruised and that neck littered with love bites and still she was a goddess to him.

The one thing he did truly sometimes forget was sometimes how much of a little demon she could be. With a little smirk on her face she pushed back slightly slowly unbuttoning his shirt, nails lightly scratching down his chest to the start of his belt. Before he was even able to open his mouth, she quickly unbuckled his pants sliding off his lap, laying her head so innocently on his thigh, looking up at him. He was at such a lost for words watch her drag his pants down his hips. Her breath fanning over his sensitive cock.

“Párate.” Lucanis moaned breathlessly as his hands found their way back into her curls, gently pulling at their scalp trying out a nice little moan from her bruised lips.

Iris didn’t even bother to answer back, only looking up at him innocently as she gently grabbed his sensitive cock before placing him gingerly in her mouth. She watched his head tilted back from the sofa, strangled groans ripping from his throat. His hands tightened in her curls hands but that only made her want to please him more. Teasing his head before dragging her tongue down his shaft, catching every moan as a little reward.

Her rhythm was ruthless to her lover. Not giving him a moment to even think before he felt her bobbing her head sucking his soul from him. Whimpers of ‘please’ and ‘coño’ and ‘sigue’ were a song for Iris. Killing him as her eyes stared back into his, forcing his gaze to watch her. Feeling him twitch against her tongue. She knew he was close to climaxing again that did not stop her to slow down. Trailing her nails up and down his thighs encouraging him to come hard as her eyes sparkle mischievously up at him.

Groaning loudly as he couldn’t stop himself anymore. Gripping even tighter in her hair, his hips lifting off the sofa thrusting deep into Iris’s mouth. Not care if he could hear her little chokes and moans, only focus was his need to cum. And with one last set of thrusts his body became boneless. His spill filling her mouth as he removed his cock from her lips.

His head falling backwards as he tried to regain his breath once again. His body feeling heavier than it did before. Lucanis trying his best to keep his head up to find his Flor’s eyes watching her swallow down his spent causing him to moan from just the sight. His hands slowly reaching to caress her face, his thumb moving to her lips pulling it down begging her to open her mouth for him. Just making it even more real for him.

Iris turned her head and his hand to place a chaste kiss on his palm, almost like she was returning the favor back to him. Still kneeling between his thighs she slowly unbuttoning her blouse maintaining that eye contact, needing to feel his eyes on her. Feeling her nipples harden the moment the cool air hit them only increased Iris’s hunger for Lucanis. The way his eyes took in her form was deliciously intoxicating. And the way that his eyes just kept flickering down below her heavy breast to the flame tattoo -one she took much time designing- made her proud of how much he wanted her like she did for him.

Slowly standing up between his legs to quickly removing her trousers and placing herself back onto his lap, almost felt like whiplash. Her lips back to teasing his neck and ears, nails scratching up and down his chest and in his scalp, and the feeling of her wet folds against his overtly sensitive cock it was too much.

“Flor por favor no puedo más…” Lucanis whimpered out, which out made Iris smile as if she won the best prize ever.

“No te preocupes yo te tengo.” Iris comforted him as she lifted her hips to take him whole.

The moment she fully bottomed out the joined moan between the two filled the space around them effortlessly. Lucanis’s arm wrapped around her waist pulling her close to stop her from moving. Yet that did nothing to stop her from grinding herself down crawling out whimper after whimper from her love. The look on his face was to good to pass out on and the need to get him the the brink was so tempting.

With each touch, each grind of her hips, each nip on his neck, each teasingly chaste kiss on his lips had him falling deeper and deeper into what he could only describe as heaven. He tried to match her hips with thrusting up into but even that was too much for his overly sensitive body. Iris like a musician has strung him up so tightly that all he can do is just sing her praises with every moan and groan he didn’t know he could make.

“Iris….please.. Coño stop..” Lucanis whimpered feeling his third climax of the night rise. His hands running up and down her curvy form, like a man drowning looking for something to hold onto to survive.

“Luca.. please wait… Fucccckk so close.” Iris moaned loud, throwing her head back and doubling her effort to bring them both to their peaks.

“Fuckkkkkkk~” Lucanis threw his head back exclaiming loudly feeling Iris tightening around his cock. His body on overdrive, thighs twitching under her delicious weight.

They held each other like that for a few moments. Both their bodies feeling the exhaustion hit ten times more. Placing their sweat heavy foreheads against each other just taking that minute to breathe together in silence. Finally letting their eyes flutter open to look at each other with such love they closed the space between them with a sweet kiss. Settling down on the sofa together -not even pull out from her warmth- with Iris plastered to his chest feeling sleep take him swiftly.

“Iris..” Spite acknowledged her but was quickly interrupted.

“Spite please for tonight just Luca rest. I promise later we can talk. But please for right now just hold me?” She mumbled to Spite feeling sleep finally take hold of her.

“Fine.. We Talk Later. Sleep tight..” he soon to her stroking her head watching her fall asleep.

[oneverydelululemon]

SXF MANGA SPOILERS, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Hi! It's me again!

I want to thank all of you wonderful people who have read the first fic I did, The Conversation. I love and appreciate every single one of you! <3

Since that post gained a bit of traction, I decided to write down the prequel, aka how Damian even realised Anya can read minds. (Un)fortunately, this fic got a bit long so I'll be posting the first part for now. I hope you enjoy!

The Revelation - part 1

Damian was sitting on his bed in the dorms, his legs crossed. He had spent almost the entire day studying in the library, his nose in the books until Ewen and Emile dragged him out. After forcing Damian into the dorm, the boys went to get something to eat. Since Damian wasn't hungry, he chose to go to their room instead and have some well deserved rest. However, once he snuggled into his bed, he couldn't fall asleep.

Damian had been struggling with insomnia for a while, and the causes of his lack of sleep were always one of two things. If he wasn't stressing about his academic status, his mind liked to drive him crazy with all the memories he has about that shimp-haired commoner. The latter frustrated Damian to no end. He hated his own mind for toying with his heart in such a manner, for having chosen to give so much of its precious attention to someone so undeserving of it. If he'd paid as much attention to his studies as he did to Forger, he'd have already become an Imperial Scholar. A part of him wished he would come to his senses, but a small part of him hoped it could be like this forever.

So Damian did what he always does when he needs to relax and stop thinking about that girl - he took one of the many "The Serpent's Orb" comics he owns and began rereading it.

"The Serpent's Orb". Oh, how he adored that comic. He started reading it during the Dark Preschool Ages. He would read it whenever the halls of his mansion felt too empty and the rooms too big. Damian cringed thinking about the time he spent reading and reenacting the story to Jeeves. He cringed even harder when he remembered he would sometimes tell the same story to his old plushie whenever he'd be too scared to sleep at night, believing there were monsters in his closet. By the time he moved into the boys' dorm at Eden, he already knew every line in all the volumes, every episode of the show. Damian was ecstatic to hear Ewen and Emile were fans of the show like him, but they were never as enthusiastic about it as he was. He never blamed them for not loving it as much, though. For them it was just another cool show, but for Damian, "The Serpent's Orb" was a lifeline.

He took one of his favorite volumes from underneath his bed and began reading the first page. He usually reads through an entire volume in the matter of minutes, but he found it hard to concentrate during school break. His mind had been too occupied reliving the last time he saw that peanut-obsessed stalker. He did his best to call the night of the gala anything but magical, even if he did spend a good portion of it arguing with her.

Damian rubbed his eyes in hopes of erasing images of Anya dancing with him. He reread the page he stopped on. The main character read the mind of his best friend to find out what happened on the planet he visited. Damian hadn't really found this scene as interesting as many other fighting scenes up until that moment.

Mind reading, huh? - he pondered. It reminded him of the joke that dummy made at the gala. Damian knew better than to believe such an ability exists. This is the real world, not some cartoon or a comic.

I mean, imagine what life would look like if telepathy was real. You would know exactly what the other person thinks. If i could read minds, I'd have perfect grades! I would win every game of Old Maid and excel in every quiz! There's no one I wouldn't beat in every single football match! Bazooka Bill would fear me!

He kept daydreaming, chuckling to himself.

Until it hit him. He felt his stomach sink.

Didn't Anya make Bill cry when she dodged his every single throw, as if she knew what he was about to do? Didn't she know about some of the most embarrasing moments in Damian's life, like when Max pushed him into a pond on accident? Wasn't it Anya who won the first round of Old Maid, before she agreed to play another round because it seemed like she cheated? Didn't she somehow find out the bombs around their necks were fake in that damned bus, despite nobody ever hearing any of the terrorists say it?

Damian's mind was racing, going over every single interaction he's ever had with Forger. He stared wide-eyed at the pages in his lap, his face turning paler by the second. He dropped the comic from his hands as they were too shaky to hold it anymore.

In that moment, he was rethinking his entire existence. Is this life real? Is Anya real? Is he real? Is this all just a bad dream or some sort of a fictional simulation? Does he live in an actual cartoon?!

Damian didn't sleep that night. He barely managed to sleep every other night after that, counting the days before the beginning of the second semester.

He had some investigating to do.

And that's it for this one! I heard somewhere Damian imagined he's on a planet in Dragon Ball Z when he was "training" for the dodgeball match, so I took that fun fact and ran with it. That being said, I've never watched the anime or read the manga, I just searched up if it involves any telepathy. It's why I tried to keep it vague. I hope I didn't get anything wrong but let me know if I did!

I'll make a part two that will revolve around Anya finding out he knows.

Let me know what you think! Any feedback is appreciated! And thank you once again for reading my delulu little stories! Love you to the moon and back!

Byeeee <3

[monitoringmiku]

(YOU KNOW WHO I AM) This can either go angst or fluff, depending on how much you want to hurt people ZZZ The people from the Victoria's Housekeeping company (separate or together, your choice) with a reader who can't take care of themself :) (Cleaninng, eating, etc)

Victoria's Housekeeping - Zenless Zone Zero

Reader who is struggling with self care.

It was late, so late at night. It had nearly been two days since you last left your room or even talked to any of the housekeepers, Lycaon had come by several times now to check in, Corin stopped by to leave food at your door but it went cold. You just couldn't get up, no matter how much your head willed you to you just couldn't do it. You were piled under at least three blankets, doom scrolling on your phone when another knock came.

"We have dinner ready if you'd like to join us.." The voice was soft, nervous even, it was Corin, Rina had probably sent her when you weren't responding.

Yet you still didn't say anything, just pulled the blankets over your head, you felt bad ignoring her when she was just trying to be polite. But you just couldn't will yourself to even mutter a response.

There was a soft sigh on the other side of the door as footsteps padded away.

After a while you ended up falling asleep, it wasn't a nice sleep, it was short and you woke up at the slightest noise. After a while your door opened, you could have sworn you locked it but you couldn't be sure, your body was too exhausted to move. One warm hand hooked under your legs and one on your back, lifting you up. You assumed it was Lycaon but didn't care to look up and check.

He brought you downstairs and put you down in a chair, he was too worried to just let you keep rotting in your room, he would usually leave you be as long as he knew you were eating but he had a feeling you weren't.

He sat you down in a chair with a blanket, putting a bowl of warm soup with a bottle of water. He didn't say anything but gave you a book and sat in a chair next to you. He didn't say anything, nor was he going to force you.but he wasn't going to let you lock yourself away, he wanted to keep an eye on you.

Would you like your own annon emojis while you're here? I did it as one longer fic so it wasn't too short for each one. Sorry if anyone is ooc. I kept it as comfort so I hope you don't mind that. It took forever to finish cause I had no motivation. Also I don't know them too well.

[rafesbabygirl]

Eres mia/You’re mine

Rafe Cameron x Latina!Reader

Summary: No matter how hard you try to move on and forget him, he will always find a way to come back into your life.

Word Count: 727

You can feel his eyes on you from across the room, watching you in your little dress dancing with your friends. You act like you can’t see him but you can feel him, you know he’s never taking his eyes off you.

He sees your fiancé walk up to you with a drink in hand. He watches as he puts his hands on your waist. He has to fight the urge to just walk up to him and cut his fucking hands off just for touching what’s his.

He took advantage of the fact that he knew you wouldn’t last another minute in the heels you were wearing to know you’d be heading home soon. He knew what he had to do to get his girl back.

He watches as you head to the bathroom and your fiancé head to the bar to pay for the tab. He knows that nows the chance to break you guys up.

Walking up to the bar he pats your boyfriends arm making him turn around. “Hey man your Y/n’s fiancé right?”

Your fiancé looks up at Rafe confused on why he’s talking to him. But he answers anyway. “Yeah who the hell are you?”

Rafe’s lip curls up knowing what he’s about to say will result in him getting what’s his back.

“You know she’ll always be mine right, she only got with you to take her mind off me. Only it didn’t work because she was sounding real pretty last night while I was fucking her.”

Your fiancé tenses up not knowing what to say back. He could only walk away knowing he couldn’t stand a chance with Rafe.

Rafe watches as he walks away and can’t help but laugh, downing what was left of his whiskey making his was outside and on his way to your house.

Meanwhile you’re left confused as you walk out the bathroom seeing your fiancé nowhere in sight. Trying to call him with no answer you decide to just leave it and head home.

Unlocking your door and heading to your room to get ready for bed, you fail to notice rafes truck parked up front.

Exhausted from your night out you immediately change out of your clothes deciding to just sleep in your bra and panties.

I’m the middle of falling asleep you hear rustling outside your window. You jolt up and see a shadow staring right at you. You see whoever it is raise up their hand and open your window making their way inside.

You sit there in shock but immediately realize who it is.

Rafe

“What the hell are you doing here Rafe?”

“Aw come on baby don’t be like that. You know you missed me.”

You then remember in what state you’re in, half naked in front of your ex boyfriend. You jolt out of bed grabbing the first shirt you see.

“Get out Rafe I don’t want to see you.”

Rafe makes his way closer to you as you back up until he has you with nowhere else to go with your back against the wall.

“I missed you so much Y/n, you have no idea.”

He raises his hand up and strokes your cheek and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You can’t be here. I have a fiancé, I don’t want you here.”

He lets out a little chuckle.

“Oh baby I took care of that already. You see I already know what I had to do to have what’s mine. Rightfully mine.”

You feel your heart drop at his words. You feel tears well up, half of the reason is because you’re scared. And the other half is because you know what he’s capable of.

“What did you do Rafe?” You ask in almost a whisper.

“ I did what I had to do so you can remember that you’ll always be mine. You know I always want what’s best for you. And what’s best, is me.”

All you could do is stare at him. Realizing just how crazy he is. You can’t help but secretly love it, knowing he’ll do whatever it takes to have you.

He embraces you in his arms and whispers in your ear.

“You know your heart is mine, and you’ll love me forever.”

All you can do is accept that it’s true. You will always be his.

[dsireland86]

Hi, I was just wondering if i could request a Song inspired fic with Jolly x fem reader? And i was thinking the song Faithfully by Journey?

I absolutely love Journey and this song! Thank you for this!!!

Faithfully

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @Youlookforultraviolet @kenjipepsi1 @blackveilomens @chey-h @disappearintothegrey @jilliemiw86 @pathion @fear-its-beauty @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @an0mallly @flowery-mess 

"Highway run into the midnight sun Wheels go 'round and 'round, you're on my mind Restless hearts sleep alone tonight Sendin' all my love along the wire"

He missed her. More than he would say. Jolly laid in his bunk, hearing the hum of the bus's engine and feeling its vibration. He was lonely for her, even though he and the band had much to do for the next few weeks. Tossing and turning, his heart was restless. He couldn't sleep, not without her body curled up into him. Grabbing his phone, he opened his picture folder and searched through the countless ones he had of her smiling as he did so. Then he stopped. That was it. That was the one he was looking for. It was a simple picture, one of her in her pj's sitting on the couch with her feet curled up into her like always. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun with loose strands falling out. She was looking at him with a small smile on her face because she hated having her picture taken, even though Jolly took many of her. She looked beautiful. She was beautiful. Inside and out. And she was his. Totally, one hundred percent his. He missed her terribly

"Good morning, beautiful," Jolly answered, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "Morning, sleepyhead. Have a rough night?" Jolly nodded, still half asleep. "Awe. Why? What's wrong?"  "I don't have you here. That's what's wrong. I miss you more than I thought I would"

"Awe Jolly, baby," she sighed. "I know how you feel. I slept like shit last night, too. I miss you so badly that I had to sleep in one of your shirts. I think I'm going to have to until you come home. "Which shirt," Jolly grinned. Y/N stood up, revealing Jolly's Swedish flag shirt. "Hmm, my favorite one," he smiled. "Exactly," she smiled back, returning to her seat. "I Iove you." "I love you too." "I'm forever yours."

"Faithfully. I've got to go. Gotta get ready for this really important meeting I have in three hours," she said, kissing her fingers and laying them on the screen of her phone. "Okay, babe. Good luck." "Thanks. You too. I know you'll crush it tonight. You and the boys always do, and yes I mean Matt, too." Jolly laughed, loving how she remembered not to single Matt out after the comment he made over Christmas last year. "Say hey to everyone for me." "Will do. Bye." Jolly ended the call and threw the blankets off, getting up to start the day.

"They say that the road ain't no place to start a family Right down the line it's been you and me And lovin' a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be Oh, girl you stand by me, I'm forever yours, faithfully"

Seven shows in, three more left. Jolly and the boys were whooped. Before the show, he video called y/n, but immediately she knew something was wrong. She said his face didn't hold that normal glow. She was worried about him and asked if she needed to take time off from work and fly out to the next show.

"No, babe, I'm good. Really. I'm just tired. You have enough on your plate. You don't need to worry about me. Only two more shows after tonight, then I'll be home and between your legs, deep inside you, showing you just how much I missed you." "Oh, baby, you're making my panties wet just thinking about it," Y/N laughed lightly. "Shut up and stop being such a tease." "Okay, well, you keep telling yourself that you're okay, Karlsson, but I know you better than you know yourself." Jolly chuckled.

"I know this isn't easy." "What?" "Being with me, loving me while I'm always on the road. I know it's not what you signed up for." Y/N sighed. "Jolly, baby, listen, I know I didn't sign up for this. People change, and situations and plans change. But my love for you, that has never changed. You're my person. You'll always be my person, and I'm forever yours," "Faithfully," Jolly continued. "I love you, too." "Good. Now, go out there, kick tonight in the ass so you can finish this tour and come home to me." "Yes, ma'am." 

"And bein' apart ain't easy on this love affair Two strangers learn to fall in love again. I get the joy of rediscovering you. Oh girl, you stand by me, I'm forever yours, faithfully". 

It's the last night of the tour, then he goes home tomorrow. Jolly was hyped, full of excitement, to be going home to his woman. The guys noticed this and were happy to finally have him back with them, mentally. The show started and Jolly played just like every night before, but with a little more spirit, except this time when he looked over at the side of the stage, Y/N was standing there, watching him with the biggest smile on her face.

His heart skipped a beat, and the happiness that overtook him was overwhelming. He smiled back at her, absolutely stunned that she really did give up her time to come out and be with him. "What are you doing here!" Y/N didn't even bother to answer Jolly, just gathered him up in her arms and kissed him all over his face. Jolly was sweaty, and his hair was damp and sticking somewhat to his face, but she didn't care. He was back in her arms and that was all that mattered.

"You needed me, so I came. I just couldn't get the time off until today." Jolly was shocked and the look on his face said it. "I'm going to assume the look on your face right now is a happy shock and not an unhappy shock," she laughed, cupping Jolly's face and kissing him. His hands found Y/N's lower back as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, smiling as she did. Jolly leaned in, bending her back a little, and kissed her back, smiling too. Her arms snaked around his neck as Jolly's lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, laughing as he spun her around.

"You bet your ass it's a happy shock. I love you," he muttered softly, planting a soft kiss on the end of her nose. "I love you too, " she whispered. "And I'm forever yours," "Faithfully." 

[decarabiandivorce]

Day 2: Godhood / Alternate Forms

Venti could feel Lumine’s hands play with his hair as he laid on her lap, his stomach pressed against the grass underneath Vennessa’s tree as they enjoyed the refreshing breeze. He could sense Paimon napping near them, but she refused to talk to him while he was holding her friend like this.

He didn’t get why she was so huffy about him using his wings like this! Lumine loved it!

The traveler’s breathing was steady but her heart wasn’t. He loved listening to its melody in sunny afternoons like this one. It was so perfect, a selfish part of him yearned for it to last forever. A wish that he could dream of this moment every single time he closed his eyes. No amount of words nor metaphors could ever convey the sheer peace his mind felt holding his beloved like this.

A rational part of his brain reminded him that they were no longer inside of her teapot, but the thousand other parts chirped about the speckling of the sun’s warmth. “My warrior…” he whispered to Lumine as she moved her hands from his head to his wings. He let out a little giggle as she toyed with every single feather. A jolt going up his spine the way she would trace it from the beginning to the tip. “Mh…”

Lumine did not say anything, but he could tell had a smile on her face without ever looking at her.

She had just finished her commissions by the time they reunited, having already talked to Katheryne for the day and now he had all the time in the world to hold such a lovely lass in his grasp! They had an impromptu picnic by his statue, and while Paimon ate half of his own plate, he didn’t mind it at all as long as he could hear Lumine’s voice. She has been so quiet as of late, something must have happened in the other nations that she did not want to tell him yet. He reassured her that he loved listening to here and that she was free to vent her worries to him.

He wanted to stare up into those golden honey eyes, but his own were growing tired. The lullaby that was Lumine’s silence was unparalleled, and there was no way he wouldn’t fall asleep.

Pulling up his wings closer to Lumine, he pressed his face deeper into her.

“Good night.” She muttered to him, closing her own set as she enjoyed the breeze.

-

Before long, the couple was awake. Sure Venti took a couple minutes to just stare up at the metaphorical goddess resting, but soon even her eyes would open- meeting his own.

She pressed a soft kiss on his forehead as she leaned, “How long did we sleep..?”

“About an hour and a half.” Venti didn’t need to double check, “Give or take ten minutes.”

She hummed, running her soft fingers into his hair once more. The bard practically purred at her movements, his wings twitching as she moved.  “You might want to change back,” She looked into his teal eyes as she spoke. Venti let out a mummer and burrowed his head deeper and deeper into Lumine’s body. “Venti…”

“I love holding you like this~” He whispered.

“Venti… someone from the church might see you. I know that one of the researcher who hangs around the knight’s library studies the tree would be coming by soon. Honestly, it’s a miracle she wasn’t already there beforehand.”

“My warrior… my starlight… the sun to my moon….” Venti flipped to be on his back, his wings disappearing as he did- revealing his underlayer. Thankfully, none of the grass stained his white socks or shirt. “Where did I leave my cape?” He looked around.

“I think Paimon is sleeping on it,” laughed the knight as she pulled him close. In this new position, he could see Mondstadt in the distance while feeling his beloved’s warmth breath on his neck. It tingled more pleasant than any drink.

“Want me to carry her?”

“No that won’t be necessary,” Lumine replied, Waking up the sleeping fairy, the white-haired girl let out a sleepy sigh and then teleported away. “She is going back to the teapot to take even more naps.”

As much as he hated to move, Venti stood up, holding out his hand for Lumine, Taking it, Lumine began to dust off any leaves that fell on her as Venti picked up his cape. Venti leans forward for more kisses, and his knight happily obliges.

She stretched, “We should probably head back now, I have some time sensitive ingredients I need to use the alchemy bench for.”

Venti smiled as she tightened her grip, and the duo began to walk. The sun wasn’t going to set for a while, but Lumine looked like she needed more rest. Perhaps once they were done with whatever they were going to craft, he could spend the evening making her dinner.

“…”

Venti paused in his step, and Lumine looked at him, “Is something the matter?”

“The… wind…” He muttered, furrowing his brow, “It’s talking but refusing to say anything.”

“Huh?”

“It’s like.” Venti placed his free hand on his chin, “two people exchanging notes right in front of you but the letters look blank- however, you can smell the invisible ink from your position.” He titled his head, “I wonder what’s going on…”

Lumine frowned and quickened her step- letting go of Venti’s hand as she pressed on in a sprint. Venti would have loved to enjoy the scenery and the passing pigeons- but this was bothering them both.

The first clue should have been when Venti passed the two knights at the gate, whispering to each other with excited but shocked expressions. The second clue would should have been how the breezes in the city laughed and laughed- something they haven’t done since Alice last stepped foot in the city.

“Is there something going on?” He thought as he weaved throughout the city. There were way more people walking in the streets today- something big must have happened. Yet considering how they didn’t seem sad, it might not be a bad thing.

“--- Barbatos and --- “

“saw --- “

“--- it makes sense how- “

“Such a natural with the glider --”

“---beloved ---- “

“Excuse me!” Venti chirped, catching the eyes of the group in front of him. Marjorie, Timaeus, Cyrus, Draff, and Margaret were gossiping.  “Did you all mentioned Barbatos?”

“Oh!” Margaret’s eyes widened, “Did you not hear?” the owner of The Cat’s Tail was a friend to the bard, who almost surpassed her status in being one of the esteemed drunkards of Mondstadt. “Lord Barbatos was spotted by Draff here and a couple hunters.”

“Huh!”

Draff nodded, “I was showing Jack an alternate route when we and a couple other hunters passed by The Symbol of Mondstadt's Hero and there laid the traveler, that fairy of hers, and who was no doubt Barbatos!”

“Ah?”

Cyrus frowned at the hunter, “Until there is further proof, it would be unwise for people to talk about his return.”

Margaret laughed, poking the leader of the adventure’s guild’s branch in the side, “But what if it IS true. Could you imagine that? One of your adventurers has brought back our archon!”

“I mean he was always with us…” Timeus tried to speak up.

Margaret rolled her eyes, “You are no fun. “ She turned to Marjorie, “How long do you think they have been close?”

The shopkeeper closed her eyes, “I haven’t seen her buy gifts of such variety, unless you count her lyre. Still she had an older more vintage one with her- it could be from him.”

“Eh?” Venti mind was racing, “Are you referring to the lyre she got in Sumeru?” the group of people turned to look at him, and he raised his hands up in defense, “She asked me for tips on how to tune it.” He trailed off, attempting to think of something “Do you think Barbatos would give her an untuned lyre without at least teaching her?”

Margaret giggled at his response. “Oh? You are close to the traveler, perhaps she wanted an alibi?” The tavern owner teased.

Draff’s ears twitched, “The traveler is coming right over here, why don’t we ask her?”

Right on cue, all of them spotted a blushing traveler being questioned by an enthusiast outrider. Amber was practically leaning over her with glee. Venti quickly moved closer to his beloved, and Lumine’s face got even brighter.

Amber smiled at Venti before speaking, “Venti! Did you hear the news?”

“Is it about… Barbatos.”

“Yeah!”

“You can say they got me informed,” He motioned to the group of people standing behind him. He would have said something about they should be getting back to work, but that would be hypocritical of him.

“…” Lumine stared at him and then moved her glace towards the exit of the city.

Margaret smiled at the honorary knight, “So, Ms. Lumine? Is it true that a certain winged man was spotted next to you?” Lumine’s eyes looked like she was promising disaster upon who spread the rumor, and so Venti did the wise choice and looked towards Draff. Following his gaze, the knight frowned.

Cyrus stepped in, “Margaret we should give them some privacy! Lumine has the right to not tell us and-“

“Actually I think Barbatos would be ticked at whoever spread such a half-truth,” came Lumine’s voice.

It was silent.

Then it was loud.

Amber was jumping up and down, “Lumine! You actually know him???”

“I told you I heard a voice when Dvalin sent me flying during the stormterror stuff, right? “ Lumine tried to avoid staring at Venti’s eyes, “It was such a kind and gentle voice, I managed to catch up to him again after the whole thing and we.. talked.” She laughed, “He visits my teapot sometimes.”

“Yet you mentioned.. half-truth..” Timaeus spoke, “Was that truly Barbatos with you?”

“No.. just a relative of his.” She lied.

“Huh.” Amber put her hands on her hips, “The archon has kin.”

“The anemo archon considers everyone of Mondstadt to be his children, “Venti automatically said. The group seemingly ignored his sincere words in favor for whatever Lumine was saying. As she improv-ed more and more, he listened to the breezes no longer concealing their words.

Ugh, how troublesome. It would appear that even the sisters in the church had heard the hunters’ words. Oh? And one of them had traveled back to Springvale and now the story is spreading there as well.

“I think we should give Lumine a break-“ Venti placed himself in front of the growing crowd. He could spot the pink ears of a bartender in one by one of the windows and the blue mane of the a spindrift knight listening in.

“She just took a nap.”

Lumine looked up at the sun, “Oh look at the time I got to do commissions!” and then prepared to teleport away. Subconsciously, Venti kissed his girlfriend on the cheek and then froze.

Oh of All The Times he let habit take over.

….

At least Lumine got to run away before things got worse.

“Venti.” He could feel Amber’s pryo vision warm the air, “Do you like the anemo archon’s beloved?”

“She said that wasn’t him!”

Marjorie snickered, “She was clearly fibbing.”

Ugh. Venti hated how astute his kids could be sometimes especially when it came to him. Then again he also loved it. Just.. not right now.

“I am going to tell Jillian.” Draff muttered before excusing himself to leave.

“Lumine and I passed by her earlier, “ Amber spoke again, “She was wondering if the traveler and Lord Barbatos got wed if they both would spend more time in the city-“

“WED?” oh so that’s why her face was like a tomato.

Cyrus patted the bard on his back, it was such a shame that his ‘love rival’ as the kids called it nowadays was the windblume festival was practically dedicated towards. ‘Huh,’ the adventure thought, ‘What was the flower the star had gifted the statue? Could that be the true windblume?’

He noted how the bard fiddled with his lyre as Marjorie, Draff, and Amber yapped, ‘Perhaps this love triangle is why he sings such silly songs about the archon.’

Venti let out a sigh, this was going to be a rough couple of weeks til the misinformation died down.

Then again, with how much his kin seemed to find it funny, it seemed it was going to last a long… long… long time.

[prettyyoungandbored]

In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning - Charlie Dalton

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x Fem!Reader

Sequel to The Night Before

WARNINGS: Very brief nudity. Read at your own risk.

Author’s Note: I probably should have clarified this in the story before but Charlie and the reader are in their 20s.

NOT MY GIF

There was something peaceful about the early morning hours. There was a blue haze in the sky. Night was leaving, and the sun was beginning to brace for its shift in the sky.

While New York was the city that never slept, Y/N and Charlie’s brownstone was in a fairly quiet neighborhood, fairly being the key word. But for this particular morning, everything felt still.

Y/N couldn’t believe it. She wondered if she woke up from her dream and into another one. Maybe the city knew she needed some quiet before the craziness that came before a wedding.

Either way, she was grateful.

She lay in the bed, her naked body tangled in the thin, white sheets. She turned over to see Charlie lay beside her, deep in sleep.

Her hand carded through his hair as she smiled. She wasn’t sure what she had done in a past life that allowed her be loved by him. There was never a dull moment that passed when she was with him.

Sure, Charlie could be a little shit, but it never crossed the line. He made her laugh until her stomach hurt and made her feel loved and supported.

Charlie’s face scrunched as he stirred awake.

“What’re you doing up?” he yawned.

“I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep,” she whispered.

He hummed and fell onto his back. His fingers motioned her to him.

She scoot her body toward him until he wrapped an arm around her as her head nestled in between his chest and shoulder.

His finger drew lazy circles on her forearm. “Can’t have my bride yawning at the alter. What would everyone think?”

She chuckled. “Gotta have some drama at the wedding. Keep everyone on their toes.”

“I like the way you think.” He kissed the top of her head. “And here I thought I was going to have to bribe one of the boys to speak up during the ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ bit.”

“And which boy were you thinking of?”

“Not Knox because Izzie would kill me. Maybe Meeks.”

She giggled. “That would’ve been hysterical.”

“But alas,” he sighed, “looks like we’ll have to go through a boring ceremony.”

“Poor us.”

“A tragedy.”

He kissed the top of her head, wrapping his other arm around her. “But I’d go through worse if it meant I’d get to be with you forever.”

She pouted, her heart exploding. “Oh Charlie, you already did. You had to ask my dad for my hand in marriage.”

He snickered at the memory. “That took a week of planning and practicing.”

“Knox told me you even practiced on him.”

He grimaced. Knox had it easy because he knew how to charm parents. “Don’t remind me.”

She looked up at him. “It was worth it though.”

He smiled adoringly. “Without question.”

Just as their lips went to meet, the phone rang in the kitchen. Charlie let go of Y/N and padded toward the kitchen.

“Hello….Knox, what’re you…ok…ok…ok, I’ll let her know.”

Y/N sat up in bed, pulling the sheets close to her chest. Charlie returned and crawled back under the covers.

“So apparently your mother was about to come over and get you but Izzie and Knox heard her and Izzie offered to come get you. She’s on her way now.”

Y/N laid back, groaning. Charlie smiled, rubbing her bare leg with his hand.

“I’m not ready to leave,” she sighed. “Can’t I stay here with you a little longer?”

“As much as I would love that, unfortunately we have to keep up appearances one last time. After that, we can do whatever we like.”

The thought of having more mornings like this completely uninterrupted would make it worth it.

“Did you tell Izzie you were coming here last night?” he asked.

She nodded. “She was gonna tell my mom I was sick.”

Charlie hummed. “And what illness were we going to go with?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I figured you could come up with something for me. You must’ve had experience.”

“Loads. C’mon, we’ll figure it out while we get you dressed.”

====================================

A half an hour later…

“Thanks for covering for me,” Y/N said, turning her head to Izzie as the two women sat in the back of the cab.

“You got it. Your mother was on a war path so I figured it was best to stop her before she walked in on you and Charlie.” Izzie turned her head to Y/N. “Also what illness are we going with?”

“Period.”

“That works. That should keep her quiet for awhile.”

Silence fell between the two women. Then Izzie spoke up.

“You won’t hear the end of it.”

“Not at all.”

[bucketsofmonsters]

Where the Light Enters - Part 6

cw: unreliable narrator, hurt/comfort, slow burn, eventual sex, enemies to lovers, past childhood sexual assault, past sex trafficking, referenced noncon, past nonconsensual body modification, happy ending, the tags look scary but this is mainly a story about recovery

Cole/Female Inquisitor

word count: 3k

ao3 link

Masterlist

She hated that she still had nightmares. She could tamp down every other emotion she’d ever had, but in the throes of unconsciousness there was nothing to be done. 

She never even had nightmares about anything interesting, nothing particularly unique or horrifying. 

It was usually just days. Random days from her past that she hardly remembered, completely and entirely unimportant. 

She wished there were elaborate, horrific nightmares. At least then she’d have an excuse for why she bolted awake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. 

This time, when she woke, she was pinned under Iron Bull’s arm. 

Of all the partners she’d ever had, he was by far the most irritating to sneak away from. 

He always clung to her in his sleep, like he was a child and she was his favorite toy. He had massive arms and even if he hadn’t been holding onto her for dear life, it would have been hard to sneak off. As it stood, it was near impossible to get out of his grip. 

She’d developed a system, over the past months, as he insisted she fall asleep in his bed more and more often. She’d wiggle and wiggle as much as she could, slowly slipping a pillow into his grip alongside her. And then she’d slide out against the pillow, leaving it in his grasp.

It took forever, and by the time she had managed it most of the panic from her nightmare had settled into her usual numbness, but she figured as long as she was out she might as well get some air. 

And then there was the matter of leaving his room. 

Bull’s door was incessantly squeaky. He said he’d chosen this room for that reason specifically, so no one could sneak up on him. It made her feel like she was in prison. 

So, the first time she’d been set on escaping, she’d done the only thing she could think to do. She climbed out the window. 

It was a room on such a high level that she would never risk climbing down, she wasn’t nearly graceful enough for that. 

But the roof was fairly flat and he was on the top floor, so sometimes she scrambled up there, kicking her feet against the wall to help her with the pull up she needed to do that her arms couldn’t quite manage on their own, when she couldn’t stomach being in his room all night. 

Tonight was one of those nights. She jumped up, grabbing the ledge and kicking off the wall until she managed to heave herself onto the roof. 

And as she crawled the last bit of the way up, looking for some peace, she found something else. She found Cole. 

She wasn’t even surprised to see Cole sitting up there, waiting for her. 

“You couldn’t have helped me up?” she asked with a huff, embarrassed that she was a little out of breath from her climb.

“It’s good for you. If you want to be an archer you need strong arms.”

“Be careful with that,” she warned him playfully. “If I get too strong, maybe I’ll stop missing.”

He shook his head. “I can move faster than you can think to shoot.”

“Just have to stop thinking then,” she said, settling down beside him as they talked. No matter how irritating he was, this was better than being down there with Bull. 

The view from the roof was beautiful. They could see mountains sprawling around them, miles and miles of rock. She knew below them lay a river but it was out of sight, blocked by the walls that kept them safe. 

More importantly than that, they could see the stars. 

She laid back as Cole stared down at her, catching his curious face out of the corner of her eye. 

“What?” she asked. “You don’t like the stars?”

“I don’t think about them. You don’t like the stars,” he informed her, as if she didn’t already know. 

“I don’t, but they’re something to look at. Better than nothing.”

He did not move to join her, content to just stare down at her as she looked up. 

She didn’t chastise him for it. She’d complained enough about his staring and he could see in her mind, he knew it was off putting. If he was doing it still, he had decided to do it regardless of what she thought.

“I don’t understand why it’s bad to look at you,” he said.

“It’s not bad to look, it’s just bad to stare.”

“Whenever I look, people think I’m staring. I don’t know how to stop.”

“It’s those big owl eyes you’ve got,” she said, widening her own eyes for purely demonstrational purposes. “It makes you scary.”

“I don’t want to be scary.”

She shrugged. “Should’ve reconsidered being a spirit then. What’re you doing out here anyways? Don’t you have important spirit duties to attend to? Have you drugged all the people you needed to drug for the night?”

He ignored her teasing, as he often did. She supposed it lost some of its bite when you could see right into someone’s head and pluck out the idea that they didn’t really mean it. “You dream loud,” he said. “I don’t like watching you hurt but you need to sleep.”

“How long have you been up here?”

“Since it started. Just in case.”

“How considerate,” she said, half meaning it. 

“Do you remember what Vivienne said?” he blurted out. “About me?”

She nodded. “I think she’s wrong about you, just for the record. Not that it matters.”

He pushed past everything she’d said, instead announcing, “I did that.”

“What, hurt mages? That’s fine, you know me, that’s not something I care about. I’m sure you meant well. I don’t think you know how not to mean well.”

“No, put people down. Like she wanted to do to me.”

Rosemary sat up with a jolt. “What?”

“I didn’t know the hurt could stop. I thought I was helping. And then I knew better but I killed people who hurt others. Now I know you and I think maybe I was wrong again.”

“You weren’t,” she insisted. “Nothing wrong with hurting people who hurt people. I mean, not me of course, but others.”

“But you hurt people and you’re a person,” he insisted. “Sometimes you help but mostly you just are. I don’t know if it’s your fault and I think I don’t care. I didn’t know I could do that.”

“I think I’m confusing you,” she said quietly. “I think once you get away from me for a while, you’ll be right back to your weird little spirit ways.”

“I don’t want to go back,” he insisted. “I remember things now, I care instead of just do. Sometimes I hurt. I thought only they could do that but I feel it in me and I don’t want to stop feeling it because then I can’t understand it right anymore.”

She wanted to understand him, she realized. She was trying to puzzle the words together, to figure out what emotion he could possibly be feeling. 

Maybe they were both becoming used to caring. 

He nodded, whether to himself or at her thought, she wasn’t sure. And then he asked, “Can you say something honest?”

She froze up. “No,” she said, and she hated the bit of regret that sat inside her as she said it. “I won’t.”

He nodded and dropped the topic, looking off at the mountain range. 

She hated how the way he didn’t push calmed her and tried to fight the way she relaxed into his company so easily after. 

“You want to kiss me,” he said, still looking out at the mountains as he spoke. “It’s very distracting.”

She reeled back. “No I don’t.”

She considered his words. Did she? He wasn’t one to lie, especially about things he saw in people’s heads, but surely this wasn’t true. She would know if she wanted to kiss someone. 

She’d imagined it, of course. But she’d imagined kissing a lot of people. She’d never actually wanted to do it before. 

She imagined it for practical reasons. She imagined how people would want to be kissed, what they wanted from her. It was all to prepare herself, not out of any desire. 

But then, kissing Cole wouldn’t get her anything. He couldn’t be tricked like that. She’d known that as long as she’d known him. So why did she imagine kissing him? 

And then she thought about it even more, turning the thought over in her mind. 

With other people, it was about what they wanted. She’d never thought that far with Cole, never imagined what kind of performance he’d enjoy. 

All she’d considered had been how it might feel, how awkward and stumbling he would be, how his lips would probably be chapped, how he wouldn’t know where to put his hands, how even without words he’d be able to understand her the whole way through. 

Oh god, maybe she did want to kiss Cole. She’d never actually wanted to kiss anyone before. 

It was out of some sick curiosity about the spirit, she was sure, but want was want.

“Do I?” she asked, desperately attempting to puzzle it out.

“You do.” He stated it so matter of factly and she believed him. 

“Sorry I’ve been distracting you.”

“It’s fine. No one’s ever wanted to kiss me before. I keep wondering what it’s like.”

It certainly wasn’t an expression of real romantic interest, but then again, neither was her desire. Maybe their wants were rooted in the same thing, in a mutual vague curiosity. There was nothing wrong with that. 

“We could try,” she said, trying desperately to sound casual. 

He nodded and moved towards her, not one to sit and discuss when a decision had been made. 

His lips were softer than she thought they’d be. She’d been convinced they’d be chapped. 

And he was warmer than he had been, she realized, remembering how inhumanly cool his skin had felt when they’d first met. It was a warm night, maybe he was like a lizard, changing his body temperature with the days.

And as they kissed, he stayed absolutely still. 

It was like kissing a statue, he was completely frozen against her. 

She pulled back, taking him in, the way he seemed completely frozen. “You alright?” she asked, poking his cheek and half expecting him to topple over as she did. 

That seemed to shake him out of it. “I didn’t do good.” 

She laughed. “You did fine, relax.”

“I want to try again,” he insisted. “I thought something in me would take over like in Varric’s books but it didn’t. I have to do things on purpose or I don’t do anything.”

“You’ve read Varric’s books?”

He shook his head. “He thinks loud when he writes.” And then, a little softer, he added, “He thinks we should kiss.”

“Who, Varric?”

Cole nodded and they were still so close that the brim of his had tapped her on the head as he did. “Yes. He thought it before you did.” 

She considered taking the hat off before they kissed again but it felt wrong, like taking one of his limbs.

“So we are kissing again?” Cole asked, perking up.

“If you’d like to.”

He leaned a little closer, as if about to kiss her, before pulling back again and asking. “Should I close my eyes?” 

She giggled at that, at the thought that he’d been staring at her with those big eyes, even while they kissed. There really was no escaping them. 

“Yeah,” she admitted, as funny as she found the idea. “You probably should.”

This time, when their lips pressed together, he melted into the kiss, leaning into her as his lips opened slightly to welcome her own. 

He kissed her back in what she was sure was an imitation of all her half-forgotten memories of kissing. He stumbled his way through it, like he had trouble translating the memories to his own body. He got bolder the longer it went on, exploring a little as she kissed him, soft and slow. 

And then he stiffened and pulled back, eyes wide. 

“You’re with the Iron Bull,” he said, like he’d somehow forgotten. “You hate it but he doesn’t and he doesn’t know. You’ve made me hurt him too.”

She scrunched up her nose. “I didn’t make you do anything. Besides, I don’t think he’d even care much. He doesn’t seem one for committed long-term relationships.”

“I don’t like secrets. I need to tell him.”

“If you tell him, I will never forgive you,” she said, and she meant every word of it. 

He stared at her, and for the first time in a long time, she squirmed under his gaze. 

Finally, he asked, “Are we friends?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I’m not sure I’d be able to tell.”

He nodded. “You wouldn’t. And you told me something honest. I won’t tell him.”

“Thank you,” she said, reaching over and giving his hand a squeeze. 

“I liked kissing you,” he said

“That’s good. Maybe you should try kissing someone you won’t feel horribly guilty about kissing next time,” she suggested. 

He shook his head. “I don’t think I want to if it’s not you.”

She tried not to think about that, about what that could mean. 

Because to be honest, it felt dangerously close to her typical relationships with men, leveraging the affection she’d tricked them into to keep her safe. She’d thought Cole was different, that he was the one person she could not pull into that trap. But if he wanted to kiss her…

“Not like that,” he said, something almost akin to panic washing over his face. “Never like that. I’d never let it be like that.”

And she knew that. She’d figured it out, it wasn’t an instinct borne of pure emotion. She wouldn’t trust it if it was. 

Cole, factually, wasn’t like that. For better or for worse. 

And she’d kissed him anyway. 

“I need to go back in,” she said, knowing Cole was reading her disappointment off her and hating him for it. “Bull’s going to wake up soon.”

He nodded. “He sleeps light, the Qun makes sure of it. Sneaking in the night, the sound of a floorboard, sword unsheathing. Another attack, always another attack. No sleep over enemy lines.”

“Yeah, that.” She looked down at the balcony forlornly. No matter how gently she tried to let herself down, she always hurt her ankle. 

“Could you lend me a hand?” she asked as she turned back to Cole, but instead found an empty roof behind her, the spirit gone once more. 

She rolled her eyes and dropped down, holding on to the ledge for several seconds before working up the nerve to drop that last little bit. 

Her knees buckled as she fell, a familiar soreness blooming in her ankle. 

She tucked herself in bed beside Bull and he pulled her towards him again, none the wiser to her little escapade. 

She waited, unable to sleep, until he woke behind her. 

She pretended to be asleep, as she always did in the mornings, waiting for him to wake her. 

He didn’t for a while, instead just staring down at her, observing quietly. 

She was good at pretending to be asleep, had gotten a lot of practice in it over the years. There was nothing that displayed vulnerability better to people, nothing that fostered protectiveness more than the peaceful face of a sleeping girl. 

Eventually, Bull did wake her, poking her gently in the side. 

“Can’t sleep all day,” he said, his voice low and rumbly. 

She pretended to ease herself awake, arching into him with a little stretch. “I really wish I could. I can’t believe I have to head out a little past sunrise to go close some stupid rifts." She had no idea what time it actually was but took a best guess, trying to get herself out of there as quickly as she could. 

Bull froze next to her and she cheered internally. He had an absurdly good sense of time and she assumed she was right on the mark. “You should have told me. You’re running late.”

She jolted out of bed. “Am I? Oh my god.”

She gave Bull a kiss and got ready in a flurry, bolting down the stairs with a lightness in her step. 

She almost ran square into Cole as she did, him appearing right in front of her.

“Are we leaving?” he asked, and she nodded excitedly. 

“We are, go find someone to take with us and let’s get out of here. Preferably someone who doesn’t like Bull.”

He nodded and then faded out of existence once more. 

She ran off to grab Dorian, figuring he was a safe bet. Dorian wouldn’t tell Bull because he hates Qunari. He pretended sometimes that he didn’t but it was flimsy at best. She could see the disgust painted across his face when they spoke.

She wasn’t sure who Cole would bring, her bets being on Varric or Solas. Honestly, anyone would be fine, so long as they weren’t someone who would go tattling to Bull if her and Cole were a little closer than they should be on this mission. 

Inexplicably, Cole returned with a furious Vivienne in tow. “I have someone,” he announced. “Can we leave?”

She buried her head in her hands. “Why would you do this?”

“Inquisitor,” Vivienne said, a thinly veiled anger present under the fake niceness dripping from her voice. “Why is your spirit stealing me away from my work saying you need me for something?”

Dorian laughed a good natured laugh. “I think the Inquisitor expected him to return with a companion less virulently opposed to him.”

Her smile failed to hide a grimace. “The spirit has taken a liking to me then. Oh, joy.”

Vivienne wasn’t technically a bad choice, she supposed. She wouldn’t say anything to Bull because she knew well enough to keep secrets to herself unless pushed, and Rosemary would never push her. She might tell the chantry that she was befriending a demon but Rosemary suspected she’d already told them that and nothing had happened so far. 

It would be a long trip, but it would be a long trip without Bull. “Alright,” she said. “I guess you’re coming with us. And who knows, Madame de Fer, maybe you’ll take a liking to him. He has a way of surprising people.”