#group p much just put up their hands and went 'okay yeah sure man' and let them pass lol

[keeps-ache]

ooo that's minty babyyy

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Academia

Masterlist

Pairing: Aged up Damian Wayne x f reader

Tags: academic setting, rivals to lovers, friends with benefits, smut, fingering, edging, oral, p in v,

You guys have been in the same program for a year now. Being who he was and having the skills, family, and privilege he had, Damian was used to getting what he wanted. He could tell you wanted him too. There were the obvious signs like the pink blush under your glasses coloring your cheeks whenever he'd challenge a point you raised during your physics lecture. Then there were some hidden signs like the way your breathing would pick up whenever he made his presence known. To any clueless passerby wouldn't think twice of it, but for someone like him who'd trained in the art of detective work - you were practically panting.

Every day, you came into your lab dressed pristine like you were in some prep school. Today, you wore a white button-up tucked into a plaid skirt, dark leggings, and some leather shoes that looked like they belonged on a doll. Damian grinded his teeth, grasping at his bicep as he watched you make your way to your seat, ignoring something his friend, Felix, was saying about their previous night's escapades. So prim and proper. Always. He wanted to tear that skirt off you. He wanted to untie the bow, holding your hair in a ponytail. He'd let you keep your glasses, thinking they made you look so, so cute. He wanted to see how much cuter you would be disheveled and writhing under him.

"Are you boys coming to tonight's kegger?" A feminine voice spoke up, and his view of you was disrupted by a pair of women taking their seat at the table in front of Damian and Felix.

"Kappa is hosting!" One of the girls, Joanna excitedly spoke. "It's gonna be fun! Damian?"

"Hmm?" Damian raised a brow distractedly before remembering what was just said at him. "Oh, sure. I might need to leave early, but I'll drop by."

The second girl, Marcy, tisked, pursing her lips in mock dissappointnent. "You always leave the parties early! I swear to God you're like the only college freshmen I know who's bedtime is at 10 pm!"

Sure, he was fine with them thinking that. Most nights, Damian went off to patrol gotham with his brothers and father. Sometimes, he went to meet with his mother and granfather. But he still wanted the campus experience. He still made an effort to show up.

"Yeah, Wayne tech isn't going to run itself when Daddy retires." Felix jabs, leaning back and giving Damian a cocky sideways glance.

Damian turns to him, unbothers and winks. "You know it won't."

Joanna and Marcy both flush red in their cheeks. Damian presumes it has something to do with the reminder of his bloodline and power, which Felix just provided, in an attempt to put him down. From his peripheral vision he can see Felix's shoulders slump as the man realized he fumbled his goal. It's okay, tiger, there's always next time.

"Is y/n going?"

Marcy tilts her head. "Who?"

Damian nods towards you, sitting a couple rows below them and reviewing your notes. From where he sat, he could see your writing was organized but not neat at all. You were in the wrong major.

The girls follow his gaze to you and share a look.

"We didn't ask everyone yet." Marcy nudges Joanna, who goes down to talk to you.

Damian watches as you look up from your notes as Joanna talks to you, nodding along with what she's saying before politely smiling and shaking your head before turning back to your notes. Joanna nodded and walked back up to rejoin the group. She opened her mouth to speak, Damian was eager to hear the excuse you offered, but at that moment, your professor walked into the lecture hall.

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"Y/n,"

You turned away from your phone and towards the source of the masculine voice that's just spoken to you. A tall, broad shouldered freshmen who you came to know by now strutted out of your lecture hall, hand clutching the strap of his bag while the other was in his jean pocket.

Damian wayne had caught your eye fairly easily - as you're sure he did with everyone else. For starters, he was the only man in your engineering major who didn't come to class everyday in sweatpants.

You detested the inequality you saw each day, where girls put an effort to dress nice, no matter how they felt and guys just gave up. We were representing the future of our country, you once thought while cringing at your freshmen year gathering, if we cant even dress ourselves well, how are we supposed to inherit our responsibilities well.

Damian was a breath of fresh air. He typically wore some variation of neat button ups or golf tees tucked into his jeans, and the sleeves usually rolled up, emphasizing muscular, tattooed forearms The top button was typically undone, showcasing his necklace, the symbol of which you were unsuccessful in spotting, above a hard muscle chest. Sometimes, he wore his signature leather jacket, creating an image that had popped up more than once in your head before falling asleep. He also smelled like some sage.

Today, Damian went the casual route with a Gotham University hoodie and jeans falling into classic black Converse. He exceled at his rugged look. Facial features sharp as usual, with angular eyebrows that often give him a serious, brooding expression, like his father often held in conferences. Black hair swept slightly forward. His green eyes were always striking. They mesmerized you when you first met him, and they mesmerized you still.

"Damian, hi." You said, gathering your textbooks in your arms. "How are you?"

"I heard you're not coming to today's kegger at Kappa." He didn't answer your question.

"No, I can't tonight." Or any other night, until I graduate, you wanted to add.

"I haven't been seeing you much around lately," he raised a sharp brow.

You grasped your textbook against your chest, chuckling nervously. "Yeah, I went and got myself the idea of doing a double major. And now since we're sophomores, I have a whole year to catch up on. So I spend most of my free time studying."

"What's the other major?"

"Math. Statistics and probability." You said, then opened your mouth to tell him you'll see him around.

"How come?" He beat you to it. Students and faculty were making their way past you in the hall, and you made sure to get out of their way. Damian hadn't moved an inch.

"Uhm, it's kind of a long story."

In truth, interning at Wayne Tech for the summer has been eye-opening. You loved getting to work with the engineers developing weapons and defense systems, but you also found yourself constantly curious about the work the data analysts did. It didn't take long to realize you found their skills and knowledge in predicting contingencies to every possible outcome really cool and wanting some of it for yourself. The next week, you went to your academic advisor and asked how you could do a double major.

"Come to the party tonight." He ordered. "We'll have plenty of time."

"I..." you rushed to refuse but his gaze wasn't leaving room for argument.

"Come to the party. And tell me what possibly inspired you to take up maths and physics simultaneously." He took a step closer to you, crowding your space. You swallowed nervously, looking around to see if anyone was watching you. He gazed down at you.

You nodded, swallowing nervously, then something caught your eye. There was a bandage on his neck, just below his ear. "What happened to your neck?"

"I'll see you tonight." He brushed past you and kept walking to his next class.

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Damian dropped his gym bag in the trunk of his Camaro and slamed it shut before making his way up the busy street on frat row. It was still early in the night, but Kappa's party was already in full swing. People were out on the lawn, on the porch, and the muffled music from inside the house could be heard down the street.

Someone offered Damian a drink, which he politely waved off as his keen eyes searched the first floor for a particular person. It didn't take long, surely enough he zeroed in on you, standing with your drink awkwardly linking hands with a girl he remembered to be your roommate, Alice. You exchanged your sweater and skirt for a t-shirt over a maroon colord silk dress. You let your hairdown, styled in perfect curls, one side pinned up by a maroon pin. Ever the color coordinating type, Damian snorted.

"You came," he approached you slowly.

You offered him a timid smile. "To be honest, you intimidated me into thinking I had to."

He raised a brow, pursing his lips. "Good."

He then turned to your roommate, tilting his head towards you. "Mind if I take her for a moment?"

Beside you, Alice gave you both a knowing look. "Take her for longer than that." Before gently unlinking your hands and walking off somewhere.

Damian tilted his head towards the window behind you. "It's nice out, wanna go for a drive?"

You followed his gaze to a black, shiny Camaro parked out front, and you felt your face flush. Did you just get offered a ride in Damian Wayne's muscle car?

"Umm, I wasn't planning on staying long -" you began.

"Just long enough to tell me why you changed your major."

"I didn't change it, I'm doing an additional -"

"Tell me in the car," he says and takes you by the hand, leading you to some cheers and hollers from your classmates and fellow program students. Some are patting Damian on the back, others are catcalling the two of you for being the "fist fuck of the night". You're in disbelief that even in college, people behave like they're in high-school. Damian mostly ignores them. You avoid eye contact as much as you can.

When you two are seated and on the road, you're still as tense as always. You turned to look at him in the drivers seat. Always so at ease, with one hand on the wheel, the other resting between your seats, ringed fingers tracing a pattern on the skirt of your dress.

"Where are we going?" You ask.

He doesn't meet your eyes, watching the highway intently. "My place."

"Oh, umm." Your heart picks up and you feel a tingle between your legs and especially on that spot where his finger is fidgeting. "I'm - Damian I think you're really nice. Definitely attractive," you babble nervously.

"Thank you."

"And what's more is you're smart, and that ticks off a lot of boxes." You continue.

"Does it?"

"And from a well off family."

"Very much."

You go on, unable to stop yourself. "I mean, I'm so flattered. I could do so much worse."

"So much worse." He supplies.

"But I'm just in a state in my life where I'm not really looking for a relationship." You scratch behind your ear. "Which is true, I'm not just saying it to you, I said the same to another guy who asked me out last week."

"Who asked you out last week?"

You saw his hand tense around the wheel, and your eyes widened. "No one! It doesn't matter since I'm not really dating right now."

"Who said anything about dating?" He asked.

You blinked at him. "Huh?"

"Sweetheart," he turns to face you, the speedometer showing the speed excelerating as you two merge onto the highway. "I'm not interested in dating you either."

"Damian, watch the road, please." Your hand shoots to the handle bard as your breathing speeds up. "A- and then why are we going to yours?"

You turn away from the highway and back to face him only to see the smirk he's giving you. "What?"

"Why do you think?"

You turn away, unable to hold his heated gaze. "Well..."

"Y/n, I want you. And I know you want me. In order for us to move on happily with our lives, we need to get each other out of our systems. Capiche?"

Not expecting such blunt honesty, even though your should be used to it by now, whitnessing it in your joint lecture halls for three semesters now. Your gaze travels down to where his hand is now holding your thigh. Your skin is so warm there. "I... yes. Capiche, I mean."

He grins, turning back to the road. "Good."

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Damian's building was in the upper side of Gotham, where most of the upper class resided. His elevator led straight into the penthouse suite. You followed him into the big room, taking tentative steps and looking around. Like his wardrobe, his apartment was clean and crisp. Every item was organized or folded in its dedicated spot.

"You have a nice place."

"Nicer than the Gotham U dorm room?" He asked from the kitchen, making you snort, covering your mouth.

"You want something to drink?" He asked from the kitchen island.

"No thanks, I'm good." You shook your head.

"Perfect." It took him three strides to reach you. He cupped your face in his hands, lowering to kiss you.

Surprised by his dedication not to wasting time, you were too overwhelmed to resist as he walked you back into a wall, all while his lips never leaving yours. His kisses ranged from playful bites of your lips to long licks against your tongue as he tilted his head to fit you against each other like two puzzle pieces.

One of his hands left its place on your cheek to travel down to your shoulder, lowering the strap of your dress and reaching in to lift the t-shirt under it, exposing your maroon colored bralette. Your hands slowly brought themselves to his hair as he moved the cup of your bralette aside, circling your exposed nipple with his finger. You let's out a breathy moan against his lips, and he drew back to assess the "damage."

There you stood, leaning against the wall, panting. Your parted pink lips were shiny with saliva, and your pupils were wide, gazing up at him with a glazed look. The left strap of your dress hung off your shoulder, the left side of your shirt lifted, and your cute breast was exposed, pretty nipple raised in excitement.

Damian felt a surge of extasy gazing at your mouth. "I wanted to mess up that lipstick all day."

Your knees buckled, and you were afraid you were going to fall, only to look down in surprise to see his knee had wedged itself between your thighs. "Why did you stop?"

"I just wanted to see what else I could mess up about your perfect look." He said before his hand traveled to your panties under your dress. "Are you wearing a matching set?"

"Yes," you panted.

Damian raised his brows. "For who?"

"For- ah!" You moaned as his finger found your clit, rubbing slow circles on it. "For me."

He lowered himself onto his knees in front of you and lifted your dress, then you heard a tear and realized he'd just ripped off your panties. You gasped. "Damian! They're expensive!"

"Oh no!" He whined, mimicking you. "Feel free to charge me for your troubles."

"That's not funny - oh!" You tilted your head back as he licked circles around your clit. "I won't forget this." You struggled to say.

"I wasn't kidding." He wispered against your pussy, licking eagerly. "I'll buy you a new pair."

You whimpered, your fingers tightening around his hair as he ate your pussy. "Fine,"

You arched your back, feeling the familiar tremors of orgasm start in your core. "Oh!"

Suddenly, he pulled away before you could reach your climax.

You tanned, looking down at him. "I was close! Why did you stop?"

He gave you a shit-eating grin and shrugged, those green eyes shining with mischief. "I wanted to see your reaction."

You didn't understand him. "Well, umm could you... please..."

"Please...?"

"...Make me come?"

He shrugged again, as if to say 'well see' before spreading your legs and diving in to lick your pussy again.

He eged you three more times. Each time, he stopped just as you were about to climax. You let out a frustrated whine, pouting. "Damian!"

"Y/n!"

"Why are you doing this?"

He stood up to wisper in your ear. "Because you like it."

He lifted you up with ease and carried you to his bedroom, laying you down on his massive bed. Your mind was swimming on oversensitivity and overstimulation that you'd barely registered him taking off his clothes and positioning himself at your entrance. Only when he was on top of you again did you have time to take in his glorious physique. Muscles upon muscles from his arms to his shoulders to his back and his abdomen. When he finally entered you, all of the edging you'd experienced until then made you nearly come simply from the first penetration.

You moaned, arching as your hands grasped against the black silk bedsheets.

Damian groaned above you, causing your ears to vibrate with the erotic sound. You gazed down at you. "You look perfect. Just like this."

You bit your lip, whispering. "Wait, please give me a moment."

"No." He began thrusting slowly.

"Damian, its too much-"

"You can take it. You excel in everything." He let out a sound which was a mix between a moan and a chuckle. "My little perfectionist."

You arched your back, feeling him fill you up. "I'm close again!"

"I know." He smirked, grinding in and out of you. "I know. You're so good, baby. Come for me again."

His hips increased their speed against you. The both of you moaning with each movement. Your nails clawed on his back as you felt him hit your g spot.

"Please, don't stop!" You begged.

"I won't," he panted. "Kiss me," he ordered.

You lifted yourself to meet his lips as he sped up, his finger back on your clit, making you whimper into his mouth, the two of you reaching your orgasm.

That was the last thing you remembered before falling asleep.

[grabattheseballsss]

Random fic wanted to post

Synopsis: gojo’s been hopelessly in love with you the day he met you, but you’re hopelessly in love with the blond that barely every paid attention to you

Pairing: Gojo x reader (unrequited) Nanami x reader (unrequited)

Warnings: angst???? I think??? Unrequited love, these butches are HOPELESS, reader is like, naturally touchy and gentle? Girl id be in love too if someone was this nice to me, Shoko and Geto are tired of yall, super mild and lackluster fic, but I wanted to post it anyways

A/N: never wrote angst before :P I wanna start doing some now hehe, feedback’s always welcome!

“And this, is Nanami Kento! He may be emo but we still love him” gojo chuckled as he introduced you to his friend group, you smiled sheepishly and waved to everyone, but your eyes couldn’t trail off of the blond who only gave you a polite nod and went back to his book.

You were the new girl, a foreigner, a shy pretty girl who was too scared to make any friends, that is until a white haired boy came up to you on lunchtime at the cafeteria, you only smiled awkwardly as you made your way to the only empty table available, all the way back, you were about to eat your food before you heard someone call your name

“Heyyy~ new girl! What’s up! I’m Gojo Satoru, but I’m sure you already know that” he chuckled as he hyped himself up jokingly, you laughed a little and introduced yourself to him

“What’re you doing all by yourself ? Come with me, come I’ll introduce you to my friends! You’ll love them, not as much as me though, promise ?” He winked at you and put the lid of your lunchbox back on and went to grab your hand before you stopped in place “please please, just gimme a minute, I got soup in my lunch box you didn’t close it properly” you grumbled and close the container and put it neatly back in your bag.

Gojo didn’t think you’d want to hold his hand after that, which made him put his arms down by his sides, but to his surprise you held his hand gently and smiled gently at him “lead the way!” You didn’t think twice of that moment but that was when Saturo started developing feelings for you, you were too focused on your bag to notice the blush that settled on his face.

Time forward to now, it’s been almost three months since Gojo introduced you to him and his friends, it’s been three months since you met that blond who you’ve been writing in your journal about, three months of you and Shoko’s endless sleepovers, three months of Geto and Gojo’s bickering which is often induced by Shoko and defused by you.

You smiled slightly as you watched the two continue to throw petty insults at each other, Shoko only laughing and Nanami sat there with a slight smirk as he shook his head, his lips were so pretty, his skin so effortlessly clear, his hair’s so soft and neat despite his stupid haircut, his deep brown eyes that turn to look at you, the way he said your name, how smooth it sounded on his lips

“Are you okay?” Kento asked, staring at you with a raised brow, your eyes widen as a heat started spreading on your face, you straightened your posture and nodded “yeah, y-yeah I’m sorry, just lost in thought” you replied and looked away

Shoko started whispering in your ear when Nanami turned around “I know what those thoughts are, perv~” she chuckled as you smacked her shoulder to stop, the embarrassing encounter left Gojo silent, ignoring Geto’s remarks as he watched you blush the same way he does when you look at him with those half lidded eyes as you take care of his wounds, or when you buy him a treat because you remembered he liked it, all of these sweet moments.

If only he knew what he lacked, he was born into wealth, he was extraordinary, the strongest, a damn model in his free time, he could give you the world and more, if you’d just turn your gaze to his pretty face instead.

———

“Happy birthday, dear sa-toooo-ruuuu” you all sang as you watched the white haired man blow out his candles, clapping as he took off the candles, number two and one put to the side as he started cutting the pink strawberry vanilla cake.

Everyone got handed a plate with a piece of cake, you and Shoko sat on the small couch, chatting and eating “you know… he’s not going to know that you’ve been pining after him if you avoid him at all costs” Shoko mumbled as she stole a strawberry off of your plate, you hummed as you looked up to see Kento chatting up with a random girl that was invited to the party by Saturo.

You didn’t want to bum anyone up, that felt so selfish and rude of you, so you excused yourself, then went back to Shoko to give her the rest of your cake and walking back out.

You walked to Saturo who was sitting by Geto, they seemed to be chuckling about some random inside joke, you grabbed your gift bag and walked to them.

“Birthday boyyy~” you called out, your voice now sounded so much different than all those years ago, you sounded more mature and sure of yourself, saturo looked up at you with a huge smile, Geto only smiled and waved at you.

You stood in front of gojo and handed him a pink and blue bag with a letter taped to it “I’m sorry I didn’t have time to pick out a proper gift” you chuckled a little before grabbing a chair and sitting down.

“I didn’t think you’d even make it” Geto said as he grabbed his glass

“Well, if she couldn’t make it, I was going to drag her by the leg” saturo joked, but you all knew he wasn’t.

As saturo unpacked the gift inside the bag, he seemed like a kid on Christmas Day, you smiled softly as he held the box with sudden care, he looked up at you so fast his glasses slid down his nose, which made you and Geto chuckle “WHAT!” Saturo screamed, making everyone stare at you both, his long arms scooped you up and pulled you into a tight hug.

Getting a gift for someone like Gojo would seem absolutely impossible, he was rich and had anything he could ever ask for, but not the pictures he had lost couple of years ago, the one of you, him and baby megumi in your living room, dressed up as random characters, from megumi as shrek, you as Fiona and of course Gojo as donkey, the one of you and Gojo sitting on the ground as megumi has a sign on the couch that says “losers not allowed on”, and of course, satoru’s favourite, the one of you and megumi in the kitchen making cookies, megumi eating cookie dough as you were covered in flour and scolding him, unaware of the camera.

He lost the card that had those photos years ago, and you found it earlier this year and decided to keep it a surprise for him.

You hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek “seriously, happy birthday, turo… thank you, for being my friend” you smiled as you cupped his blushing cheek “now go taught gumi with them, I know you’re itching to do so” you giggled as you patted his shoulder and walked back to where Shoko was sitting.

You both missed the way Shoko and Geto looked at each other with a sad knowing look before turning back and continuing their separate conversations.

[fluideli123]

Watching the Paw Patrol movies is actually a really interesting phenomenon between looking at cute puppies experience found family and seeing dog camps and eugenics just casually thrown into the plot so well that you have to spot and point while your jaw drops.

Like, what do you mean Chase was abandoned by his original owners in Adventure City? Shows Megalophobia and even Agoraphobia because of it? What do you mean this CHILD was nearly ran over? Near death? Like did we truly just brush past that?

And not to mention Skye? Girl was born different from everyone else and faced dog ableism for being "small and weak." She faced worth issues because of how she was born and so it caused her to believe she needed to "fix" or "enhance" herself in order to be worth a damn? Also she ALSO nearly died in a blizzard?

I need more movies, because what the fuck happened to the rest of the pups? Like jesus christ how can the lore get even darker????

Also I can and WILL analyze Ryder for HOURS! That boy obviously went through some shit to always be pulling his lil dog children away from danger and thinking completely side lining them in okay without a proper discussion. Like! Sure! I get you, but, sir you could do so much better what held you back??? What happened in your life that you would know how to get your hands on high tech and merchandise like it's your passion?

Also, my live reactions to the movie so ya'll understand how far the illness goes:

[IMAGE ID: The following images are messages between myself (A), dakota (D), and pyro (P). I start the conversation:

A: ...I'm sorry dog camps? Chase can you stop being relatable

D: Dog camps?

A: Humdinger literally is rounding up all the dogs in the ity and putting them into a "reformed" obedience school and it's- it's giving dog camps

D: Oh. /END ID]

[IMAGE ID: A: PLEASE! Okay but humdinger is the embodiment of capitalism and ecological terrorist

P: oh he is /END ID]

[IMAGE ID: A: GIGGLES! Also I think Ryder is a blunt guy but his intentions aren't ever mean. He also is so one to explain after an event is over [why] he chose a decision but it's not what the pups agree with because they're impatient and because Ryder has a flaw in it

P: Amen

A: Headcanon that Ryder grew up in a strict household so his pup parenting is affected. Not that it excuses it but it just explains his tone and such

P: Truth

A: I am so invested in Paw Patrol lore I regret nothing /END ID]

[IMAGE ID: A: Me when- me when Chase is believed in, told he is brave and deadass jumps an entire broken off building just to get to his dad Ryder

P sends a crying cat emoji

A: I am so not okay, something about the second movie makes me think [Ryder] learned from Chase about "we do it together" and "giving second changes and not putting people on the side lines easily"

P sends mant crying cat emojis along with: The silly dog movie made me feel so much /END ID]

[IMAGE ID: P: Rocky I love you so much oh my GOD. Diagnosing him with the 'tism

A: Please do PLEASE! Chase is giving MacKenzie from Bluey about abandonment

D: God why do you inflict this damage upon us-

A: Because it's the truth and I only speak the truth /END ID]

[IMAGE ID: A: Something about the scene with Rocky and Chase sleeping and her shaking her head [and in the second movie wanting to] constantly prove her abilities gives me Trans Vibes I don't know /END ID]

[IMAGE ID: A: I agree!! Plus, it fits into the eugenic themes in the second movie and [Skye's] story. Still hung up on doggy camps gotta be honest. That shit was a weird click in my brain

D: Well, camps do have a certain history for the world so, makes sense

A: Yeah, no I agree, which is why I keep thinking about it. Like collecting mass groups of beings you despise and think are lowly into a confined and horrible area to be dealt with?? Yeah, man, I don't know

P: That sure was something

A: For real, like, I don't know, it's definitely Chase lore and if we're gonna connect that to something than that's a can to spill /END ID]

[IMAGE ID: A: Mhm mhm!! Also something about Rumble knowing science is my favorite thing ever. Boom!Knuckles and Movie!Rumble need an entire series dedicated to them being them(tm) /END ID]

[IMAGE ID: A series of images on the same topic read:

A: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE! I also believe Zuma gives biracial vibes, don't ask me why

P: YOURE RIGHT! Zuma keeps being forgotten i think that should be fixed

A sends a gif of Zuma dancing while stating: I agree I could never forget that sweet pea. I headcanon him as afro-latino Asian, the pup gods told me so

P: I'm the pup gods

A sends a gif of Marshall filling a kiddie pool with Chase, Skye, Rumble and Zuma, stating: WHEEZE! Chase gets to be white passing Latino. Skye gives Cajuns decent. Marshall is the only white boy. Rumble is only half white and I don't know what the other half is

D: Filipino, why? Because you couldn't decided and I'm a whore for Filipino representation

A: YES! I AGREE WITH THIS! Chase is Latino, Skye is Cajun, Zuma is Asian Afro-Latino, Rumble is White and Filipino, Marshall is White! "Why are you giving dogs race and ancestory" BECAUSE I CAN AND I WILL

D: Because it feels right /END ID]

[IMAGE ID: A: Something Something Liberty trying to define herself by others around her and not herself. ALSO! "Amplify things about us" and it's about Skye flying and being strong, something something, she was always strong and deserving of her title and position she was just the only one who thought she had to be more /END ID]

[IMAGE ID: Two images on the same topic that state:

A: Also Liberty always enhancing or being a double example of the main lesson and theme and even plot is something that is important to me

P: Liberty is very important to me. She's also the oldest trust, I'm the dog nerd

A: In the first [movie Liberty] wanted to join something she admired and wanted to serve something bigger than herself which enhanced Chase's story about worth, that fear is something to overcome and not stop you, to get back up again and fight for what you want.

A: Also Liberty pushing Lil kids to get their potential reflecting and enhancing the theme of how much Skye pushes herself because she has something she wants and always thinks she has to prove it by pushing and doing things on her own [when she] shouldn't have to /END ID]

[IMAGE ID: A: Also to add into the eugenics themes, Skye believing she has to be "enhanced" (made better) to have her full worth and power to display just because she was born differently than everyone else

D sends a deeply concerned emoji

A: Chase's story being about bravery and Skye's about Bodily Worth /END ID]

[IMAGE ID: P: Ryder actually makes me so mad. I'm sorry I try hard to love him but he makes me SO MAD

A: Ryder when he took Chase to when he nearly got ran over, Ryder not letting Chase or Liberty or Skye join when they're having a hard time, always putting even pups he doesn't know very well first about their will being by ending a program and it makes me think so AGGRESSIVELY that he's afraid of losing them and so he keeps thinking leaving them in safe places is what is best when it's NOT

A: NO SAME! Ryder "to ensure everyone's safety I have to leave people behind" Papa. I need to analyze him so bad. What happened to you to make you like this bro

P: I see where he's coming from but oh my god he makes me so mad /END ID]

[IMAGE ID: A: No, I agree, in the next movie I need [Ryder] to learn, man. [Skye is taking all [the crystals] SKYE DON'T! Don't over compensate for something you don't even need to :(((. The eugenics hit her hard. Also they're so found family coded, Ryder saw all these kids and adopted them and helped them find themselves and their purpose and supports them so heavily and I need to bash my head in about how much they mean to me /END ID]

[IMAGE ID: A: Skye's movie is also about how accessibility and community is important but putting her worth in your "incapabilities" because you were born different. Also ableism [from Victoria saying] "need me to slow down Lil pup" /END ID]

[IMAGE ID: A: Also Victoria's parallel to Skye using her "madness" aka mental instability and personality disorder and Skye's physical disabilities. I am right give me my Paw Patrol award /END ID]

[IMAGE ID: A: Token girl [Skye] becomes an actual fucking character I adore and love and need more of

P: Token girl proves she's not just a diversity hire

A: With her own movie too! Oh, this scene, this scene makes me GO INSANE. Ryder "I need you safe my daughter please come back to me." No pups too small go girl go! Skye against ableism- Ryder thinking he lost his daughter and her brothers thinking the same thing! Trans girl power! "How can a puppy be trans" Because I said so!

P: And you are right!

A: Doesn't she have trans vibes?! Like I cannot explain it [she is] Trans because she was Born That Way(tm)

P: She does! She does! /END ID]

[IMAGE ID: A: "Protect all those who need our help!" Skye against ableism! I love her so much! She's healing! 10/10 movies, man. Also something something the pups cars and armor being symbolism for disability accessibility

D: Okay now make an essay about it right now/j

P: /srs /END ID]

All in all, if there's one thing to take away from this post it's the following screenshots

[IMAGE ID: A: I need to start making Paw Patrol fics now

A: I am about to feed the paw patrol fandom /END ID]

[queenofbaws]

Ohh, never sent anything like this your way and so I don't want to take the reigns too much! But I loved some of the prompts you RBed. Maybe "I keep thinking that something must be wrong with me. Even right now, it feels like I'm ten feet away from myself." In relation to anything Supermassive (UD/Quarry maybe) because I love love how you write fics for those games; take it anyway you'd please. I just super enjoyed the prompt lol

not-quite-six sentence weekend :P

The whole thing had seemed like a joke at first, just another way that the universe could grab them by the ankles, give them a good hard shake, then grab up all the loose change that spilled from their pockets while their heads were spinning. Things had been normal before camp - things had made sense. The sky was blue, the grass was green, and the things that went bump in the night were usually just your imagination or one of your pets knocking into something in the dark.

But now there were monsters. Now it was impossible to tell where reality ended and make-believe began. Now...

Well, now they were in a dingy little basement that reeked of burnt coffee, sitting on uncomfortable foldout chairs. It had to be the strangest support group that'd ever existed, bar none, and even that wasn't going the way it should've been...not with the other quote-unquote survivors doing what they were doing. Most of them were fine, but the Blackwood Bunch?

Oh. Oh, the Hacketteers were pretty fed up with them.

"So there I am, soaked to the bone, wearing someone else's clothes, I'm tired, I'm hungry, everything hurts, and it's like...every time I thought things were going to be okay, I...I ended up alone again. It was just...way too much. Insult to injury, you know?" Emma let the rest of her breath out in a heavy exhale, anxiously tucking her hair behind her ears. Per the usual, she hadn't let stage fright stop her from going at the first opportunity she was given, working her way through her story with tight smiles and shallow laughs. She licked her lips, took another breath, and -

"You think that's bad," Jessica spoke up from across the way, the collection of chairs a little too sloppy to be called a 'circle,' per se, "try having frostbite. And a concussion. And being in your underwear for most of it."

There was a ripple of low chatter from a couple of the others - not the Hacketteers, not the Blackwoods, but the others, the ones who'd been watching with slow-growing amusement and exasperation as their strange turf war had developed. In voices too low for the (warring factions) rest of them to hear, a man missing a suspiciously clean chunk of his ear leaned over to murmur, "Bet this is the one where they start throwing chairs," only for a woman with a garishly bright red pixie cut to dip her chin and respond, "Twenty bucks and you're on."

At the forefront, Emma's smile tightened, becoming something automatic. Automatonic, really. "I was in my underwear for a lot of it, actually."

"No frostbite, though," Mike cut in, happy enough to take over Jess's argument for her. "Seriously, you guys don't even know what you're talking about, okay? Like, yeah, sure, I know you got scared or whatever, but until you're fighting for your life out in subzero temps? Pfft. You don't know what it means to survive."

"Says the guy who stuck his hand in a bear trap," Jacob shot back, not bothering to lower his voice.

Mike had been ready, though. "Says the guy who stepped into a snare, then stepped into a bear trap, then...wait, wait, how'd he put it last time?" he asked, making a show of turning to Emily, then Jess, then craning his head around to Sam. "Oh! Right. Got dragged into a hillbilly sex dungeon. All in one night. Rip on the bear trap all you want, my guy, my one moment of dumbassery hardly stacks up to you going full fucking Loony Tunes. Walk off any cliffs while you were at it? Try and blow out a stick of dynamite thinking it was a birthday candle?"

"Hey man, that's not fair!" It was then that Nick threw his hat into the ring, sticking up for Jacob's case without a moment of hesitation. "You guys weren't down there! You have no idea what it was like, being in those cages all night!"

"Uh, hang on. A-a-agree to disagree." Chris was the one who spoke that time, but Ashley had lifted a finger beside him, the two of them seemingly lodging their complaint as a unit. "If we want to talk about dungeon experience, you...you really don't have a leg to stand on here, man. Sorry. You don't. Ash and I were in a fucking Saw movie, okay? So, I-I-I'm sorry that like, you got to sit for most of the night, but - "

"I was a fucking werewolf, dude!" Nick fired back, actually getting to his feet. "A monster! You don't have the first idea what that's like! My body exploded, I almost killed Abi, I...things still feel wrong! I still feel wrong! It's like...sometimes I don't even think this is my real body anymore, like I'm here, but I'm also standing ten feet away from myself! You don't get to just act like you've been there, done that - fuck that!"

A clearing of a throat. An unnecessarily loud, pointed sniff.

And then Josh entered the fray.

"Yeah. Know what? True. True that. Not a one of us - and I mean this, Nicholas - not a single one of us has any idea what it's like to be possessed by something otherworldly, flung around according to its whims, changed beyond recognition, and then woken up to realize, aw shit, it's Monday isn't it? I need to get to work pronto, but I'm just covered in all this gross, sticky blood!" Slowly, moving with deliberation, he straightened in his seat, the reconstruction scars on his face almost gone but not quite, his left eye catching the light in that eerie way human eyes weren't supposed to. "Shit. Wait. Hang on. That's not what I meant to say. Sorry, haven't had any of that coffee burbling away on the counter yet, and you know I'm not myself until I've had my coffee, hee hee, ha ha, hoo hoo. What I meant to say was - eat my whole, entire ass. Get back to me when you can describe the taste of human flesh to me, how's about that?"

She'd been quiet until then, but Abi raised her hands in a silent plea for them to stop, scrambling to take hold of the back of Nick's shirt when he took a single step forward towards Josh. "Guys! Guys, hey, this...I...fighting isn't helping stuff, okay? We should just - "

"Okay. Honestly? Sorry, not sorry, I'm on their side with this one," Laura piped in, the Blackwood gang sneering as the Hacketteers whirled. "You guys have...no idea what a hard time is, okay? Yeah, wow, yikes, werewolves. Try being in a jail cell for two months, never knowing if the weirdo who kidnapped you was going to let you go, kill you, bring you something to eat, or just stand outside your cell breathing too hard. On top of the werewolf thing! On top of it!"

"Yeah, like, not for nothing, but we didn't even get to make friendship bracelets, you know?" agreed Max, still nodding right along with Laura.

"They didn't even get to make friendship bracelets," Emily repeated, sadly shaking her head.

"Big talk. Real big talk. I'm sorry, did any of you walk away from your weird little winter getaway missing a limb?" Dylan asked. "No. Didn't think s - "

"Chris messed up his knee!" Ashley snapped. "Mike's missing fingers! Sam's, like, almost totally deaf in her one ear now! You can't just - "

"Yeah, I'm sorry, you didn't get fucking mauled," Emily cut in, speaking over Ashley as she yanked her shirt to one side, revealing the massive scar on her shoulder. "Don't complain about - "

"Pretty sure I got mauled, actually! Pretty sure a few of us got mauled, in fact! You don't - "

"You guys weren't lost underground for hours, trying to find your way out." Matt, that time, his usual stoic silence thrown by the wayside. "Pitch black. In a maze. Hearing something hunt you - "

"Wow. All due respect, dude? You weren't listening to our story at all, were you?" Ryan accused. "We - "

And with that, the meeting devolved the way it always did, all of the younger survivors pointing fingers and shouting, comparing wounds and battle scars, stacking their traumas on top of one another's like Pokemon cards. It wasn't the most therapeutic of ways to go about things, of that there could be no doubt, but...it must've been doing something, because they kept showing up every week.

The world was a strange place, after all. It only made sense that they'd be strange now too.

[pilothusband]

All Hail The King

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Alcohol, oral sex, p in v sex, praise kink. I’m a horny bitch, okay? This is purely indulgent.

Word count: 5k

Author’s note: Special thanks to @wyn-dixie​ for reading this over before I posted it and for enabling this filth. ❤️ This idea entered my brain randomly and I had to write it out. Please let me know what you think! I want your feedback. If I had Photoshop I would have made an edit of Frankie with a crown for this but I don’t have it so here’s this gif instead.

The bar is humming with activity, but the table you’re nestled at in the back provides enough shelter to allow you all to converse without having to yell at each other.

You’ve been nursing a glass of water for a while now, since you’re the designated driver this week. It doesn’t bother you, though— you’re just happy to be out with your friends.

Every once in a while you steal a glance over at Frankie, who’s sitting diagonally across the table, next to Santiago who is directly across from you. Benny is to your left, his large body crowding you into the wall, and his brother Will is at the head of the table.

“Hey Fish,” Benny claps a hand on his shoulder. The force of his hand jostles Frankie’s solid body backwards a little, but to his credit he doesn’t flinch. “How are things with that girl you were seeing? Jennessa? Jennifer?”

You take a sip of your water and look down at the table to mask your interest at the sudden change in conversation.

“Jessica,” Frankie clears his throat. “They aren’t. We didn’t have much in common so she broke it off after a few dates.”

Queue the internal cheering. Jessica was a bit of a wet mop, to be honest. She never had anything to say when Frankie brought her around and she would scoff at everything that was slightly unsavory in her eyes. Deep down, you had to come to terms with the jealous twinge you felt in your gut every time she would squeeze Frankie’s shoulder affectionately, her immaculately manicured nails pressed harshly into his jacket.

“I’m sorry, Fish,” Benny said, slinging his arm around the man, the clumsy movement knocking his hat slightly askew. “Her loss, brother.”

“Here here,” Santi agrees, raising his bottle in the air. “To the king!”

Benny cheers clinks his bottle against Santiago’s echoing his sentiment. Will huffs out a laugh and Frankie groans, hiding his face in his hands.

You gape at the two men in question, but they just giggle like a couple of school girls.

“I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty,” you say, trying to figure out what they’re talking about. You look over at Frankie as he takes an impatient sip from his drink.

Benny just about spits out a mouthful of beer onto the table.

“Shut the fuck up, guys.” Frankie warns his friends. “Seriously.” Santi and Benny give him an innocent look. Will focuses his gaze on the bottle he’s holding, picking at the paper label, damp and curling at the edges from condensation .

Santiago leans towards you, his breath hot in your ear.

“We call him the pussy eating king.”

You thank the powers above you weren’t mid-sip, because the choked sound that emits from your throat was both involuntary and sudden. Heat blossoms in your stomach and your thighs clench together as you make eye contact with Frankie. He looks away nervously, embarrassed even. 

“So was this a self coronation or..” You trail off, grinning at the flush on Frankie’s cheeks.

“It was that really talkative chick he was seeing for a while,” Benny says, turning to you. “Brianna?”

“Brenda,” Frankie sighs.

“So Brenda crowned you the pussy eating king?” You ask Frankie, who still refuses to meet your eyes.

He grumbles in response, waving off the subject.

“Yeah, she went on about it in detail for the whole night one time. I think you were away for a work trip or something” Santiago is absolutely smirking, loving the way Frankie is physically shrinking under the group’s attention. “Come on Fish, don’t be so modest. You’re a beast in the sack, it’s a good thing!”

You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You remember why you weren’t there. It was because you couldn’t stand seeing Frankie so happy with another woman, so you feigned sick.

“Well, I can see why things with Brenda didn’t last,” you respond, knowing Frankie was kind of a private guy. “But hey, at least she can tell all her friends she got the royal treatment while it lasted.”

Benny, Santiago and even Will all roar with laughter, fists banging raucously on the table. Frankie huffs out an embarrassed laugh, despite himself.

“Yeah, yeah,” he takes a swig of his beer, emptying it. “I need another drink.”

“Hey Ben, what time is your fight next week again?” Will calls over to his brother. You’re grateful for the change of subject. Frankie’s had enough torture for one night and you aren’t sure how many more details about Frankie’s sexual prowess your nether regions can take.

Benny turns towards Will to talk about his upcoming match and you take a sip from your glass to try to hide how flustered you’re feeling. Did this bar get hot all of a sudden?

The glass lands back down with a dull thump and you look up to find Santiago studying you, his eyebrow raised.

“What?” You don’t mean to sound aggressive, but his gaze is unnerving, as if he’s trying to suss out something you’re hiding.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He smirks and tips up his beer, taking a long gulp. You roll your eyes at him and look down to pick at your nails.

A few moments later, Frankie returns with a fresh beer and you can feel Santiago turning his face in your direction again to read your body language. You school your reaction, fingers digging painfully into your pint glass. Sometimes Pope is too fucking nosy for his own good.

He must lose interest after a moment though, because he turns his attention back to Benny, who’s still talking about his upcoming fight.

The topic doesn’t come up again, thankfully, and you’ve dropped all the boys off at their separate destinations, save for Frankie, who lives the closest to you.

The car ride alone with him isn’t as tense as you were expecting, since his tongue has been loosened with the fair amount of alcohol he’s had tonight. You both chat easily about the upcoming week and how much you’re dreading going back to work on Monday.

You can’t resist one smart remark though, as you pull up to Frankie’s house.

“Your castle awaits, my liege,” you quip, trying and failing to hide your amused smile as you look over at him.

Frankie throws his head back and laughs freely, opening the car door with a wink.

“Goodnight, my queen,” he bows exaggeratedly before shutting the car door.

The butterflies don’t tamp down until you’re securely inside your own apartment, locking the door behind you.

That night was a month ago, which means it’s been a whole fucking month since your brain flew the coop. Every time Frankie does just about anything with his mouth, everything else around you ceases to exist.

Take last Thursday, for example. Frankie dropped by after work to help you change your porch light, since the fixture is too heavy and the light is too high up to easily reach.

He steps up the ladder with ease, unscrewing the fixture and holding it with his left hand. He puts the screwdriver in his mouth so he can hold onto the ladder as he gingerly hands you the fixture. You grab onto it and hand him the replacement bulb so he can swap them out.

He gets the lightbulb in and gestures towards you to hand the fixture back, which he screws back in before stepping down.

“Blegh,” he wipes his mouth on his sleeve, an action that has your last two brain cells screeching to a halt. “Screwdrivers taste awful.” 

His statement is cute, self-deprecating, and you try to respond appropriately but all you can do is gape at him like a fish out of water.

‘Get your shit together, he’s wiping off the taste of rust, not your pussy,’ you try to mentally shake yourself out of your stupor, but it does no good.

He turns back towards his toolbox to drop the screwdriver in and close the lid.

“All set,” he says, dusting off his jeans. He sounds a little uneasy, probably because you’re acting like a complete weirdo.

“Thank you so much, Frankie. I really appreciate it.” You find your manners and pull him in for a hug, secretly reveling in how good he smells.

“Any time,” he tells you as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes softly.

Before he pulls away you make a spur of the moment decision, and reach up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. He’s so impossibly warm and so inviting, you can feel your heart flutter in your chest. The sparse hairs on his face tickle your chin. 

Frankie clears his throat and ducks his head down, mumbling a hurried goodbye before he heads back to his truck, toolbox in hand. You don’t miss the way his lips are turned up and the crows feet make an appearance in the corner of his eyes, nor do you miss the brilliant flush that spreads over his face and down his neck.

It’s Saturday now and your torment knows no end. You decide you’re too tired to go out and opt to invite the guys over for a movie night, to which they all agree. 

You decide you’ll just have to look away every time Frankie takes a sip of a drink, or eats a handful of popcorn. Or God forbid, if he licks his lips.

The group chat has been a nightmare, with everyone trying to come up with a movie to watch. Benny wants to watch The Expendables, Will mentioned something about wanting to see Dunkirk for ages now and Santi is playing devil’s advocate, disagreeing with all of their choices but not coming up with one of his own.

Frankie has been quiet in the chat, besides initially agreeing to come over initially.

It’s 9:00 PM, you have a 30 rack of beers in the fridge and some popcorn set out for everyone. All you have to do now is wait for the guys to arrive. Your phone chimes with a notification from Benny.

Benny and the Jets 🥊: Sorry lady, I got called in for a last minute practice. Raincheck?

Ironhead 🦸🏼: I gotta duck out too. The lady wants to have a date night. Sorry!

You type out a reply to them, a little disappointed but bidding them a good night all the same.

A knock sounds on the door and you rush over to answer it. The door swings open to reveal Frankie, wearing the softest looking navy blue hoodie you’ve ever seen, along with his Standard Oil cap. He looks as unsure as ever, holding a bottle of red wine.

You chirp an over-enthusiastic greeting, internally cringe at it, and step aside to welcome him in.

“I know you like red wine, so I got some for you on the way here. I hope it’s the kind you like.”

You accept the wine and look at the label. It’s a California Zinfandel. You can’t believe he remembered your favorite wine.

“I love it, thank you so much.” You pull him into a hug, nuzzling into the soft material of his sweatshirt. He returns the hug just as enthusiastically, pulling away to kiss your forehead.

“Is Santiago on his way?” You ask, padding into the kitchen to grab a glass from your cabinet. “Do you want a glass? Or I have some beer if you’d prefer.”

“Beer is perfect, thanks,” he says a little breathily as he looks over at you. “Santiago said something came up and that he’s sorry.”

Something feels a little fishy with the three of them ducking out all at the same time, but you don’t mention it as you hand him a beer and search through your drawer for a bottle opener. A few minutes later, you’re both set up on the couch and are scrolling through Netflix for a movie.

“I have no idea what to watch. Do you?”

“Want to watch Civil War? I know the guys will bitch we’re continuing the rewatch without them but they can deal.”

You tip your head back and laugh, navigating over to your Disney+ app.

Frankie takes off his hat and sets it aside while you spread a blanket over your laps, braving a chance to scoot closer to him. He takes the hint and wraps his arm behind your shoulders, nestling you closer to his chest. You settle in and try to pay attention to the movie, despite the wild fluttering that is taking place in your stomach.

Frankie shifts uncomfortably and winces a little. You can tell he’s trying to hide it, but little does he know you’ve been watching every single movement he makes like a hawk. Or a nervous lap dog.

“Does your back hurt? I can move,” you start to get up but Frankie grabs onto your wrist and pulls you back in.

“No, stay. I just need to find a comfortable position.”

You make a soft noise of surprise when he lifts you up and pulls you towards him, settling back so he’s spread out on the couch. You’re settled on top of him, your legs stretched out over his with your back to the cushion, half draped over his torso.

This position has your heart thumping hard in your chest. His face was just a few inches from yours. All he’d have to do is tilt his face towards yours, and you’d be practically kissing.

Focusing on the movie is harder than ever. Your left hand rests on Frankie’s chest and your right is near his head. Without even thinking, you reach out and start stroking your fingers through his soft curls. He hums contentedly, the pleasant sound rumbling through his chest.

A hand makes its way up your arm leaving goosebumps in its wake, landing on your shoulder.

You brave a glance at Frankie and feel your heart stutter in your chest when you realize he’s been looking at you. His eyes are as dark as ever, twinkling against the flicker of your TV.

He closes the gap and captures your lips in a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft, melding to yours perfectly. The brush of your mouths together is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to lick at him and he complies, letting out a guttural moan at the sensation as your tongues meet languidly.

You shift your leg so it slots between his and both of your hands find his shoulders and squeeze them, eliciting a soft mewl from Frankie’s mouth. His hands are hot on your back and he slides one down to your ass, kneading the soft flesh over your leggings.

Your hips press into his, rutting into him, soft pants falling from your mouth– mingling with his. You need to be closer, closer, closer. He tightens his grip on your ass in response and rolls his hips so you can feel how hard he is against your belly.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, breaking the kiss, words tumbling out between his ragged breaths. 

You can feel yourself throbbing for him, wetness rushing to your core as his hushed baritone makes your head spin with need. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re convinced this is a dream. That there’s no way you’re dry humping the man of your dreams on your couch right now.

You duck down to hide your expression, not wanting to ruin the moment with your anxiety and doubt. You’ll take whatever this man gives you, even if it’s just this moment. 

You busy yourself by peppering small kisses on his neck, trailing them up to his jaw.

“Hey,” he slows your movements and holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up gently up to look at him.

“I want you. I want this. Do you?” 

You feel the urge to look away, his gaze is intense and laser-focused on you. Eye contact has never been your strong suit, so this was a lot for you to handle. But you fight the urge to flinch and stare back, searching to see if there was anything that will give away any trepidations. His expression remains hard set, serious but not unkind. It’s just like Frankie to have eyes as clear as day, giving away all of his secrets. They’re just like him— strong, unrelenting in their hardness and softness.

“Yes,” you reply. Your voice cracks a little, thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.” 

You feel embarrassment wash over you with the admission, but Frankie doesn’t let it last long before you crushes his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He breaks it off after a moment, lips swollen and pink.

“Baby, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

He strokes a hand down your jaw, his thumb caressing your skin as a goofy smile blooms over your face.

“I want to make you feel good, baby,” he whispers, his thumb catching on the swell of your bottom lip. “Will you let me make you feel good?”

You blink and swallow heavily, a fresh wave of arousal flooding to your center as the deep rasp of his voice utters those words, smooth as caramel– dousing over you like kerosene on a fire.

You nod, not trusting your voice at this very moment.

“I need you to say it out loud, honey,” he says, his lips brushing against yours ever so lightly.

“Yes, Francisco,” you breathe out. “Make me feel good.”

He bites your bottom lip and tugs, then growls playfully before he grabs your shoulders and flips you over. You let out a delighted shriek, giggling as he lifts up the hem of your shirt and kisses every inch of skin that’s revealed.

“Wait,” you call out. He stops his movements immediately. “You first.”

Frankie grins. You want to press your fingers into the dimple that appears and feel the scratch of his beard under your nails. He leans back and lifts his sweatshirt over his head, the grey t-shirt he’s wearing sticks to the inside of it and he rolls both garments down his arms. 

His chest is bare to you now, smooth except for a smattering of hairs in the middle of his chest, and a patch leading down into his jeans. You want to reach out and run your hands down the planes of his torso and follow the path of hair,  but your arms aren’t long enough to reach. 

You remove your shirt, leaving you in your leggings and bra. It’s a soft lace number, a delicate pink with no underwire. You watch as his hungry gaze roams over your chest. To your surprise, he doesn’t motion for you to take it off. Instead, he leans over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

 He moves downwards, tongue darting out to taste the salt of your neck. He continues his path and mouths between your breasts, one of his hands reaches out to squeeze the plump flesh in his large hand. You nipple instantly pebbles under his ministrations and he pulls the fabric aside to tease it with the pad of his finger. You moan softly at the sensation and yelp in surprise when he sucks it into his mouth and bites it, soothing the sharp sting with a flick of his tongue.

 “Mmm, love how responsive you are already,” he hums, moving down. Your back arches as his mouth makes a hot trail down the rest of your torso. You look down and notice he’s left wet patches where his mouth has been, coating you in saliva and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

 He reaches the waistband of your leggings and pushes them down, letting out a strangled groan when he gets an eyeful of your panties, the same shade of pink that matches the bra you’re wearing. 

“So fucking sexy,” he breathes.

He peels your panties down your legs and pulls them off along with your leggings, leaving you completely bare from the bottom down. You start to cross your legs to hide yourself, feeling self-conscious at how exposed you are, but Frankie grabs your thigh to halt the movement.

“You better not hide this pretty pussy from me,” he says, licking his lips.

You half expect him to dive in, but he takes a moment to look at you. He’s resting a hand on your hip. His pointer finger makes a path down, tracing an invisible line up and down your slit. You hiss at the ghost of his touch and thrust your hips towards his hand, seeking out more friction.

Frankie lets out an amused chuckle at your reaction and leans forward to plant a wet kiss to your inner thigh. You let out a shaky breath in anticipation– your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. He kisses up your thigh until he reaches the apex between your legs, then licks a stripe through your folds with the flat of his tongue, pulling a surprised gasp from your parted lips.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and you can’t help it– you buck up into his mouth and grab onto his hair and tug at the strands. He grabs onto the flesh of your hip and whimpers into your pussy. Despite being almost dizzy with need, you feel a rush of power knowing you have this effect on him.

“You taste so fucking good. So wet for me,” he punctuates his words with bold licks up and down. “Never want to stop.”

He changes patterns, making tight circles on your clit with his tongue. The sudden switch has you mewling and your legs clamp around his head involuntarily. Frankie grabs your thighs and wrenches them apart, hooking them over his shoulders as he latches onto your pussy. His hands are on your ass, holding you up as your back arches off the couch.

All you can do is scramble at the cushions below you for purchase as Frankie buries his face into your cunt, lapping at you with abandon. His tongue licks into you with an intensity you’ve never experienced before; it has you seeing stars.

You have no idea how he knows exactly how to manipulate your body to pull the pleasure from you so naturally. Every lick feels like it’s searching for treasure, every suck hits somewhere deep inside, reverberating through the muscles of your thighs and up in your abdomen.

He gently places you back down to the cushions and rubs at your entrance with his pointer finger, looking up at you for permission.

“Yes, please–“ you whimper brokenly. He complies immediately and plunges it into you, following with a second finger, and curls them up. His pace is slow at first and he flicks his tongue out to play with your clit at the same time. He’s soon spurred on by your moans and sets a brutal pace. You once again feel the urge to clamp around him to increase the pressure, but Frankie uses his broad shoulders to hold your thighs apart.

 Seeing his shoulders, bare and perspiring from his intensive movements, so wide and flushed, coupled with the furrow of his brow, his eyes pinched closed, makes something primal within you awaken. You barely have time to feel your orgasm coming before it’s hitting you– thighs shaking, back arching, hands in his hair. You don’t even realize it, but you;’re shrieking his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s groaning in reply, milking you through it with his fingers and tongue, lapping up your release, syrupy sweet and indulgent.

 He doesn’t stop until you’re flinching from overstimulation. He kisses up your body lazily, taking his time before capturing your lips. You kiss him back, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on his tongue. He grinds into you, his jean-clad erection rubs against your aching cunt and rekindles the fire, molten heat shooting through your entire body.

 “Wanna fuck you so bad, baby,” he says, panting the words into your mouth.

 You moan and break the kiss.

 “Want to take this to my room?”

 He doesn’t reply, but instead swings his body off the couch and picks you up bridal-style. He stumbles a little with the first steps and you both laugh, kissing each other with each step he takes towards your bedroom.

He tosses you onto the bed softly and you let loose another delighted giggle when Frankie flops over you dramatically, caging you in his arms. Your tongues tangle together in an impossibly sensual kiss. He’s momentarily distracted, caught up in the feel of your body underneath his with the soft touches of your tongue, and you take the opportunity to roll him over and straddle his hips.

Frankie is looking up at you as if he’s in awe, like he can’t believe you’re here right now, naked from the waist down and grinding down on his hard cock, tenting his jeans.

You move down his body and zip his fly down, pushing down the denim along with his boxer briefs. His cock springs free, hard and hot and leaking at the tip. You can’t help but lick the bead of precum, and a broken whine rips from Frankie’s throat. His hands are clenched into the sheets, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping the mattress beneath him.

You’re bobbing your mouth up and down his length, tongue licking around his shaft and cheeks hollowing out. His moans are loud, constant. He’s babbling praise, telling you how fucking amazing your mouth feels, how badly he wants to fuck you. It’s a heady feeling, bringing a strong and quiet man to his knees like this. You love that he’s letting you know how much he’s breaking for you.

Your tongue finds its way down to his balls and you suck them into your mouth, moaning at the musky taste. His moans are high pitched now and his hand is squeezing your shoulder.

“Baby, you gotta stop,” he grabs onto your hair to pause your movements. “I need to feel you.”

You give him one last broad lick up his shaft and shift back up, and look down at Frankie to catalogue the number you’ve done on him. He’s absolutely wrecked– brown eyes blown wide, chest rising and falling rapidly with his uneven breaths.

 You remove your bra, stretching it over your head and throwing it to the side. Frankie follows the movement and lets out a needy, staccato moan at the sight of you, completely bare before him.

 You reach down and kiss him soundly on the mouth, lining his cock up with your entrance.

 “I’ve got you, baby boy,” you coo, sinking down on his length.

 “Fuck,” he grits out between his teeth.

 You give yourself a moment to get used to his size and rock into him. His hands fly up to your chest, squeezing lightly and rolling your nipples in between his fingers.

 “So fucking big,” you pant out. “So good for me.”

 It seems Frankie loves praise as much as you do, evidenced by the twitch of his cock inside you.

 Your pace is agonizingly slow. You’re trying to tease out the moment, stretch it out so it lasts forever. It doesn’t last long– you can’t stand it anymore. You bounce up and down on him, snapping your hips when they meet his.

 “So fucking perfect,” he pants out. “Wanna fuck you from behind.”

 You breathe out a moan and stop your movements. Frankie mistakes your pause for hesitation and reaches up to brush the hair out of your face.

 “We don’t have to,” he says, voice gentle, brow furrowed in concern. 

 “No, fuck. No, Frankie. I want to.”

 You gingerly get up and whimper at the loss when he’s no longer inside you. Frankie sits up, shoulders rocking forward and cock bobbing with his movement as he settles onto his knees. You watch him and bite your lip, getting on all fours and lifting your ass up in the air to present yourself to him.

 Frankie can’t help the groan that falls from his lips and sinks forward to lay an open-mouthed kiss on your pussy from behind before he lines himself up. He enters you without hesitation, hips slapping against your ass rhythmically, setting a decisively fast pace. 

 All you can hear is the filthy sounds of your wet pussy as he pounds into you, along with your strangled moans, and his heavy breathing, laced with whispers of praise you can’t discern. The waves of pleasure are too much, too strong. You can feel the familiar build up of an orgasm. Your head is in the clouds as it climbs and climbs– then crashes.

 His fingers on your clit is what does you in. Your whole body shakes and all you can do is whimper and moan around his cock while he fucks into you. The strong, practiced rock of his hips become sloppy as he chases his release, muttering words of adoration into the air as he pulls out and cums, spilling onto your back. He pulls every last drop out of his cock before collapsing over you, forehead resting on your spine as he catches his breath.

 “Fuck, baby,” he says, once he’s caught his breath. “Should have done this ages ago.”

 You both laugh and Frankie gets up to grab a wet face towel from the bathroom

A little while later, you’re both in bed, blissed out and wrapped up around each other. The movie, drinks and snacks are all forgotten. All that matters is here and now– your breaths mingling together as you kiss each other lazily, tongues probing slowly. 

In the other room, both of your phones ping on the coffee table with unheard notifications.

The first text is from Santiago.The other boys follow suit, not a minute apart.

Pope 🤦🏻‍♂️: 👑

Benny and the Jets 🥊: 👑

Ironhead 🦸🏼: 👑

Neither of you see the texts until the next morning.

 The following weekend, it’s Santiago’s turn to be the designated driver. He’s parked outside of Frankie’s house, waiting to pick both of your asses up. He starts to tap his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel after the first 15 minutes. 

“What the fuck are they doing in there?” He asks Will and Benny. They all know the answer, but don’t say anything.

Meanwhile, Frankie has you crowded against the front door, your sundress is hiked up and his face is buried in your pussy. Neither of you can hear the sound of Santi’s impatient honking over your moans.

And if you end up going to the bar sans panties because you can’t find them before Santiago is pounding his fist on the door, well that’s just a secret you and Frankie will have to keep.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo @recklessworry @wyn-dixie @manalg14 @codenamewife @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @manalg14 @comphersjost @a-skov @sheresh0y @greeneyedblondie44 @blackmarketmummy @brandyllyn @gracie7209 @bootyliciousbilbo @dobbyjen

[twink-between-worlds]

tangled chains; see life as a worthy opponent

hey hello hi. linkverse fic anyone? first chapter, woo fun fact; we experienced a moment of humanity with the beloved/p over this fic ! yay! ok the links play pronoun roulette, ruby is mtf trans, and the ao3 tag for MCD is just for Hypnos being Hypnos, don’t sweat it too much haha ^^

ao3 link; x

Link doesn’t know where he is. He’d gotten up, went to visit his sister, went home to get his satchel and sword, then went on a walk through the woods. But it’s been hours, and Link should be out of here by now. He doesn’t get it—he made all the right turns, he’s sure of it! The trees are starting to look different, though… There’s something off. These aren’t Link’s woods anymore, he’s certain. But…where is he, then, if not home? The little prince doesn’t know, but he is determined to find out. This world does not belong to him, of that he is sure, so he must be careful. Link slipped his sword out of its scabbard, holding it tightly in his hand as he continued to walk, hoping to stumble upon an exit. The only sounds were the rustling of leaves and the sound of metal hitting against branches, which unnerved him for a brief moment before he realised that it was just him walking into bushes, his prosthetic leg—carefully made from iron, specially crafted by the blacksmith at the prince’s request—breaking the branches upon impact. But, even with this knowledge, Link feels he isn’t alone. Someone—or something—is with him in these woods. Link needs to get out. Link isn’t wanted here, and he knows it. The woods here are dark—darker than even the lost woods—and Link has resorted to using his lantern to see where he’s going. Is he going deeper in, or is it getting darker as the time passes? He isn’t quite sure. “Hello?”He chanced it, yelling out into the darkness. “Is anyone there?” There was no response. Link wishes there was, because if someone had yelled back, he would know that the feeling of being with someone—something?—else isn’t sinister. But there was no response, so Link remains on edge. He continued to walk in relative silence, eyes darting around the area as he walked. Link sees a split between the trees, exposing what looks like a clearing. ‘Finally!’ Link smiled, soft lilac eyes shining as he picked up the pace, but slowed again once he’d realised. This clearing was confirmation he wasn’t home anymore—the grass is too green, it’s too healthy to be his. It’s unsettling, because this reminds him that he is not at home anymore, and has ended up somewhere new. And that honestly terrifies him, just a little bit. Because he doesn’t know what to expect—he doesn’t know the threats, he doesn’t know the calibre of any enemies he’d run into…he doesn’t know anything about where he is. ‘This is fine,’Link reassured himself, heading towards the clearing, ‘I…will be okay!’ Gods, he has to be okay—what kind of hero is scared about a new place? Link let out a soft breath as he stepped into the clearing, glancing around. …well. He wasn’t expecting to find a group of people looking at him. “Um…hello?”Link started, gripping his sword tighter. “I—I’m sorry if I interrupted something, I’m just…a bit lost.” “You weren’t interrupting anything,”One of them spoke up, standing up and heading over to Link. He noticed that the other is wearing a blue scarf. It looks really nice. “What’s your name, kid?” “Oh, um..my name’s Link.” “...of course.”He frowned, then sighed. “Well, then, this isn’t just a big coincidence then.” Hearing that, Link tilted his head, growing even more confused when the older man seemed to think he would catch on. When he didn’t, the other elaborated. “We’re all named Link. Except Linkle, but that’s close enough.” “Oh that’s…well. That’s funny!”Link let out a giggle. “Though, you guys don’t look familiar—and I know everyone!” “Yeah…I would remember a kid with bright pink dreads.”One of the others spoke up, and Link frowned in confusion upon seeing that the others' sclera were black as opposed to white. I’ll put a pin in that for now. “Your teeth remind me of a bunny.”Another spoke up, startling Link for a brief moment. “Can we call you that? Bunny?” “Oh. Okay!” “Great, great.”He yawned. “They call me Hypnos.” “Hypnos?” “Yeah, cool name right?”Hypnos shot him a lopsided grin, leaning on a tree with eyes shut. “Rundown—weird face marks over there is Prism, guy with scarf is Knight, kid with white hair is Ocarina, the three idiots with bright hair are Emerald, Ruby and Sapphire respectively, uh, then there’s Linkle, and the lil fella with the tattoos is Tide. Cool? Cool.” Bunny nodded, looking at all of them before frowning. “A concerning amount of us are children.” “A concerning amount of us are children.”Ruby nodded, rubbing her eyes. “I think Knight and Linkle are the only actual adults.” “Oh.” “I wouldn't trust them to act like adults, though,”Prism spoke up, a soft huff leaving his mouth. “One’s stupid and the other’s clumsy.” “That’s not nice, Prism.” “Saph, you are the only one who cares.” Bunny let out a sigh, watching the argument before his eyes shifted over to Ocarina. ‘They do this a lot, you get used to it,’Ocarina signed once they were sure he was looking, and Bunny nodded along. “Is there any reason they do it?” Ocarina shrugged loosely. ‘Not that I can recall. I think Sapphire is too nice and Prism is just too honest. Prism hates withholding the truth. Not sure why—his honesty can be brutal. It would be a nice change if he would lie about a few things, but I suppose nothing can make Prism lie.’ “Oh.”Bunny frowned gently. “Prism…is he nice otherwise?” ‘Depends on the day. Sometimes he can be nice. Other days…’Ocarina’s hands fumbled, and he frowned. ‘Other days, Prism is cruel. We know he isn’t being cruel on purpose, but—he is. He is cruel sometimes. I would try and get on his good side, if I were you.’ “...what about the others?” ‘Hypnos is asleep most of the time. I…I can’t figure out why, but he…feels weird. Creepy, even. Not because of the weirdly-placed wings on his head, but something is off about him. Generally, though, when he isn’t asleep, he’s nice. Always tries to make everyone feel better. Only known the guy a month, but without fail he tells a joke when someone’s upset and it makes them feel better. But he is still creepy. I wouldn’t trust him too much, but it’s your call.’ Ocarina paused, allowing Bunny a moment to breathe before continuing, ‘Tide is 14. That’s important, because he acts older. He doesn’t really like jokes, but he’s still got a bit of childlike joy left. I don’t know what he’s been through, but it musta been bad yanno? I think he might like you—you look young. Anyways. Got a sister he adores and a best friend he would die for. He doesn’t talk to Prism, much, nor does he talk to Linkle or Knight. He prefers to talk to Emerald a lot. I think they’re close. He doesn’t like Hypnos much, though he has told me it isn’t because of how creepy he feels, but because he’s always cracking jokes, yeah?’ “He’s older than me.”Bunny hummed out, and Ocarina cracked a smile before taking a breath. ‘Sapphire, Emerald and Ruby don’t go anywhere without each other. They’re not related—they’re very adamant about that—but they went on an adventure together. Adventures do tend to bring people together, I suppose. Sapphire and Ruby are freakishly in-sync with each other. Two sides of the same coin, I’d say. Sapphire is usually nice, but he’s quick to anger. Ruby is the opposite—she’s always angry but can turn into a real softie within minutes. I apologise—the things I have said are what I’ve gathered from observing, so I don’t know anything much about Emerald, Linkle or Knight.’ “That’s okay.”Bunny shot them a grin. “It helps me a lot. Thank you.” A nod, before Bunny turned to the others. “Okay, um, question?” “Answer.”Hypnos grinned, ignoring Tide’s eye roll. “What’s up?” “How long have you guys been together?” “Bout a month.”Knight whistled. “Maybe two.” “Long enough that we didn’t expect someone new!”Linkle smiled. “Just forgot, you are the hero and not just some kid named Link, right?” “I’m definitely the hero,”Bunny laughed softly. “I doubt any sane person would arm a random child with a sword.” “No sane person would arm any child with a sword,”Prism pointed out, and Bunny shrugged with a mutter of ‘true’. “What exactly are we all doing here, then?” “...beats me.”Emerald huffed out, grinning. “We know we’re supposed to be doing…something, we just don’t know what. It’s…finding out is a work in progress! For now we’re just fighting monsters and figuring out the rest on our own, yanno?” “So…aimless adventuring?” “Aimless adventuring.” “I see. Now, I’m no expert,”Bunny whistled. “But maybe we shouldn’t be standing out in the middle of a forest?” “...kid has a point.”Knight hummed. “I think I saw smoke coming from over there.”Tide whistled, pointing north. “Maybe we should check it out. Might be a town.” “Well? Let’s go, then.”Linkle laughed, spinning around on her heel. A moment to recover, and then Bunny hopped to keep up with the others, a soft smile on his face. He just met them, but they feel safe. He hasn’t felt safe in a while—it’s a nice feeling. …it was a feeling that Bunny missed. He missed it dearly; after all, he only had his sister and Impa that made him feel safe. It’s been a while since Bunny has fully trust another—and he missed being able to. Bunny let out a contented hum, hopping down the beaten path with his new group.

[marauder-exe]

Self care- p!Tommyinnit x reader

i wish i was bsfriends w tommy :’)

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings:themes of depression, nothing too deep

A/N: Taking Tommy and Wilbur requests!! u cant tell me tommy doesn’t do the classic british X’s on txts to his friends

It had been a rough stream, 8 hours sat in the same chair putting on the same happy face, it was unbelievably exhausting some days. You took of your headset and set it down after pressing ‘end stream’, you ruffled your hair and took in a deep breath, throwing a glance at the clock on your computer. 5am. You tried to throw caution to the wind, maybe it was an off day? But no, you could feel it, deep inside, another episode. You looked directly into the webcam, your face scrunching up as you take note of your appearance, your ruffled hair, your dark eye bags. It felt like hours, just staring at yourself, your famous thousand-yard stare painted across the screen. Suddenly, your phone vibrated from its place on the desk. You lethargically picked it up as the bright screen illuminated your otherwise dark room. It was Tommy.

Big T: ‘bedwars stream tmrw? : ) x’  

You really didn't feel up to it in all honesty, but you didn’t want to let Tommy down like that, he loves bedwars. A sad smile made its way to your face as you drafted your text back.

Gremlin: ‘only if were on duos together : ) x’

Big T: ‘5pm? X’ You responded with a simple yeee.

You discarded your phone to the side and stood up for the first time in hours. Your bones ached as you outstretched your limbs. Pain. You walked over to your bed and sat on the edge, eyes scouring the room, even though you weren't sure what you were looking for, an escape maybe? It wasn’t even like you had anything to be upset over, great friends, successful streamer, everything was going great, but alas, depression does not give a shit. You crawled into bed, putting your phone on charge and grabbed all of your covers over your head, a long sigh making its way from your lips.

The next day/  

Tommy loaded up minecraft on his computer, reading to slay game at bedwars with you. He got unusually excited when he played minecraft with you, even more excited than normal. There was something about you man, but he just couldn’t figure it out. Youd met in high school, same town and everything, and since then you were like a drug. Not a day had gone by since year 9 that you didn’t talk. He decided to drop you a message as you hadn't texted first. He asked if you were still up for bedwars. Surprisingly though, he didn’t receive a response. He waited. Just 5 minutes he said. And then 10. And then 20. Then 30. He decided to ring you just to check. Plus, he wanted to hear your voice. It rang thrice and nothing. His eyebrows drew together in confusion. You were almost always online. He tried not to overthink, but this is Tommy were talking about. Maybe you were still asleep? He wanted to believe that, but there was an itch, in his brain, that told him not to. Just to make sure, he decided to ask some of your mutual friends on the server. He clicked onto the group discord and noticed Wilbur, philza and Nikki in a vc.  

“Hello Hoes and Homies alike” He bellowed when he joined the vc. Wilbur drew a confused look.

“I thought you were doing duo bed wars with (Y/N) today?” Tommy scoffed.

“Well yah, Wilburrrrr, if you let me get a word out” He joked light heartedly “No seriously though has anyone heard from her since her stream last night” They all looked confused and shook their heads. This made him even more concerned than he was. He quickly thanked them before disconnecting. His mind was running rampant. He quickly decided to throw his shoes on, you didn’t live that far, only a bus ride away on the otherside of town. He grabbed his keys and his jacket and rushed down the stairs.

“Going over to (Y/N)s for a bit” He shouted to Motherinnit as he slammed the door shut.  

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

You were straing at the roof in a pit of self loathing when you heard your phone ring. Ugh. It seemed so much work to pick it up. Your hand made its way from under the mountain of covers and snatched your phonr from the side. Tommy. You felt a sting in the back of your eyes and tossed your phone on the bed, turning over and curling up in the covers. You stared at the inside of your covers for minutes on end. Your doorbell sent a sharp chime through the house as your mother went to answer it.

“Hello Tommy, what a surprise" He threw her a quickly greeted her and got straight to the point.

“Is (Y/N) in?”

“Shes upstairs I think, I havent heard from her all day though. Go on up” She stood to the side and let him pass.

You heard the entire conversation through your open window, and let out a heavy sigh, although you were secretly thanking Tommy in uour head for checking up on you. You heard his converse hit the steps as your door was threw open. Tommy immediately regretted his actions, wondering if you were asleep as he took note of the heap of covers on the bed. He let out a quiet whisper.

“(Y/N)?”  

You didn’t really feel like talking, but you let out a quiet ‘yeah’. He rushed over to your side upon hearing your weak response.

“is everything alright? We were meant to be playing bedwars like an hour ago” This prompted you to pull the covers off your head and look at him. He took note of your puffy red eyes, and the dark eye bgs lying underneath. He looked around your room, empty energy drink cand and food containers littered your room. It suddenly clicked to him. You weren't doing okay. He looked back at you deeply, something about that look just caused the floodgates to open. Your eyes were glassy, as Tommy practically melted. He hated seeing you like this. Sure he had the bit of him being a big man with no emotions, but you where his weakness. “Hey, cmon don’t cry” He whispered as he opened his arms, welcoming you into a hug. In an instant you where in his arms, leaving tear stains on his TShirt. He didn’t seem to mind though. After a moment of silence, only broken by your sobs, he piped up. “How about, we forget about the stream for today, and ill go to the corner shop and get us some snacks, and marshmallows and whipped cream, and we can have those killer hot chocolates your mom makes. We can watch a bunch of movies, and ill even let you put one of those stupid facemasks on me, yeah?” This caused a laugh to pierce your sobs, which started to lighten up. You sniffled and pulled back from his hug, a huge smile making its way onto your face, the first genuine smile in a while.

“Thats my girl, that’s what I love to see” He matched your smile. You quickly threw your arms around him and pulled him into a long hug.

“Thank you Tommy” You said sincerely.

“Anything for my favourite girl” He smiled, as he pulled back from the hug. “Maybe while im gone you could try to shower?” He knew how tough some simple things where when you felt like this. You nodded smally and sat up. He leapt from the bed and smiled. “Okay, I wont be long!” And with that, he dashed out of the room.  

You lay back on your bed. You werent okay, but that’s okay, because Tommyinnit is your best friend :)

[vampiredecay]

Hey dear, i have a weird request but could you do a Lost boys X reader or Marko x reader Where all the boys (Marko Dwayne David paul Micheal all of them or just marko Dwayne David paul) see the reader re put bandages on his scar but the scars would be like carls in the walking dead and they see the scar ( i wonder how they would react to it?)

thank you so much for the request, sorry it took me a hot second to post! its longer than my other stories on here so far, so i hope that makes up for it. i also hope that you like what i did with it!! its angsty in the beginning but it gets fluffier <3

Scar Tissue

rating: teen

word count: 2,908

tags/warnings: swearing, mentions of being in pain, mentions of scars, mentions of being in the hospital, harassment, fluff, the boys being sweet, the lost boys x male!reader, male pronouns used, poly!lost boys

--

You could have never predicted how your life had gone so sideways. Not in a million years- before the accident, you were pretty much an average joe. Decent family, decent friends, decent existence. Nothing was ever really exciting, but you were okay with that. Life didn’t need to be crazy or unpredictable to be fulfilling.

But, you supposed, the price of being a living being on this Earth was that life could never truly be predictable at all. It couldn’t be, with the events that followed you losing your eye, and pretty much all normalcy you grew to live with.

It was extremely painful at first, physically and emotionally. You had lost a vital part of your body, and you could never get it back. It was disorienting, and uncomfortable, like an itch you could never scratch. The skin around your eye was incredibly sensitive, the lightest movement or touch sending shockwaves of burning pain through your nerves. Tears were always on the brink of spilling over anytime you or a doctor had to replace medicine and bandages to keep the wound clean.

In the end, the pain wasn’t the worst part about it. No, you could deal with the pain. The people in your life, however, suddenly changing and disappearing was way, way worse.

Friends slowly stop coming to visit you at the hospital, calls go unanswered, gazes averted. Your parents supported you, of course. They still loved you, and you knew nothing could change that. But sometimes even they got this look in their eyes, something a little too close to pity.

It was an incredibly lonely first couple of months.

But the loneliness and the heartache slowly healed, along with your eye. The scarring lightened and stopped bleeding, and your skin no longer felt as if it was on fire every time you turned your head. You still had to keep it under wraps, to keep out infection, and to keep other people from seeing how bad it was. You knew that people seeing the bandages would cause looks and questions, but it was better than people actually seeing the wound, which would surely cause reactions that you didn’t have the patience to deal with.

As you were healing, you were also relearning how to do things in your daily life. Your sight and depth perception drastically changed, so things like walking and doing simple tasks had to be practiced all over again. You had to take things slow, which you hated, you couldn’t leave the house very often until you got used to walking without bumping into things.

The first place you wanted to go once you were able to was the boardwalk. It was one of your favorite places in the world, so loud and full of life and happiness. It was absolutely what you needed after all of the hardship you had to deal with lately.

So one night, when it got late and your parents turned in for the night, you went out and caught a bus to the nearest stop to the boardwalk. From there you walked until you saw the bright lights and heard loud screaming and chatter and laughter. You smiled as you took in the sight of the people and the games and the rides, it felt like you were breathing for the first time in months.

The first thing you did was buy a big thing of cotton candy and a soda, roaming the boardwalk and consuming sugary goodness. As you walked, you noticed that some people were giving you looks, but you ignored them, focused on just having a good time and living your best life.

Walking around for long periods of time still gave you a bit of trouble, you were starting to get a little dizzy, so after a bit you sat down on a bench to give your brain time to catch up with the rest of your body. This was nice too, you got to relax and just watch people for a bit. There were all sorts of people out tonight, families and tourists and couples, teenagers and surf nazis and locals, all in one spot, the heart of Santa Carla, enjoying the wonders it had to offer.

There was a group of guys that caught your eye, though. You didn’t mean to stare at them; in fact, you knew not to, you’ve seen them around the boardwalk in the past, and heard the rumors surrounding them. But, in your defense, it has been a while since you’ve been there, and you forgot how magnetic they can be.

They were milling near their motorbikes, smoking and talking and lightly harassing anyone that happened to walk by. Three blondes and two brunettes- had there always been five of them? You could have sworn there was only four- all dressed in black and leather, looking dangerous and infuriatingly hot. You would have noticed more, but by accident you make eye contact with one of the guys and you rip your attention away from them.

Shit, god damnit, you’ve been spotted now. There’s only one thing to do, and it’s to walk quickly away and hope you don’t run into them later.

You get up too quickly though, and you stumble straight into a man walking with who you assume to be his girlfriend.

“Hey! Watch it-” He starts to say, pissed off that someone ran into him, but then he takes a good look at you and lets out a laugh. “Oh, I guess you really can’t, huh?”

The girlfriend lets out a giggle, smirking behind a hand over her lips. You mumble out an apology and try to go around them, but the man blocks your path. “What was that? C’mon man I can’t hear you, you mute too or something?”

You look up at him and scoff, anger building inside you. Who the hell did this asshole think he was? Without thinking, you say “Yeah, real funny and original. Bet lines like that really score you in bed.”

There’s some laughter around you, making you realize that a crowd has been drawn. The man’s face turned bright red, his mouth curved downward into a frown and he got up in your space. “Oh, so you’re a tough guy now, huh?” He pushed you in the chest, making you stumble back. You get dizzy and almost fall, but you don’t hit the ground. Instead, your back hits someone's chest. You freeze, then slowly turn your head, to see a guy with spiky platinum blond hair staring at the man who pushed you. The four other guys with him were also there, glaring at the crowd of people just watching.

You turned to look back at the man who pushed you, all the color was drained from his face. His girlfriend was clutching his arm, trying to pull the man away but his feet were glued in place. The blond behind you smirked.

“There a problem here?”

The silence that swept over was deafening and unnatural, it was like all of the boardwalk was holding its breath waiting for an answer. The man swallowed, eyes gliding over the gang behind you, not focusing on one spot. “N-No, man. No problem.”

You let out a breath as you watch the man and his girlfriend back up, and the crowd starts to disperse. The man behind you gives a shark-like grin and chuckles deep. “Wonderful.” He says, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you away. You can hear your heart thundering in your chest as you walk away with them, listening as they laugh and push each other.

“N-No m-man, n-no p-problem!” One of the blonds says in a mocking wavering tone, “What a fuckin pussy!” The gang starts laughing again, it feels like the ground underneath your feet is rumbling from the force of it. After a little more walking, they stop in front of a different bench and gesture for you to sit down.

“Take a load off, little man!” You snorted as you sat down, grinning despite the slight lightheadedness. Two of the blonds sat next to you, one with a wild mane of hair and a smile to match swinging an arm behind you. You look at all of them, nodding your head a little bit. “Thank you,” You said softly, “You didn’t have to do that.”

The spiky blond shrugged his shoulders and asked, “What’s your name?”

“Y/N” You said, and he nodded. “I’m David. This is Dwayne, Michael,” He gestured to the two brunettes, one with curly hair and sunglasses hanging off his shirt, the other with longer straight hair and not wearing a shirt at all. “And that’s Paul and Marko.” The two blonds next to you do little waves, the one that wasn’t right next to you has curly hair and a jacket so cluttered with patches it must be heavy.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N!” Paul says, nudging his knee against yours, making you smile more. “It’s good to meet you guys, too.”

After the introductions were out of the way, David offered for you to hang out with them, but you declined, saying you needed to get home. At that David offered a ride instead. You hesitated, but accepted in the end. Riding behind him on his bike was terrifying and exhilarating, you clutched his middle tightly the whole way home, but the blond didn’t seem to mind.

“You should come to the boardwalk more often,” David said as you got off his bike, now at your house. He smiled at you like he was letting you in on a secret, “We’re there all night.”

From that point on, you couldn’t ignore the boy's siren call. The next couple days you would take the bus over, wander until you found them, and then do stupid shit with them all night. A lot of it consisted of them terrorizing people who even looked at them funny, but you didn’t find it scary anymore. You found it powerful. It was the best you’ve felt in a long time.

It wasn’t long, though, until the questions started. You supposed you should have seen it coming, but hanging out with them honestly made you forget.

“So Y/N,” Paul said one night, it was just you and him and Marko. You were leaning against the railing in front of the carousel, waiting for the others to get back from getting food. When you looked over at Paul, he asked “What’s up with the eye?”

Marko punched Paul's shoulder, giving him a look, and Paul threw his hands up dramatically. “What? I don’t mean anything by it, I’m just curious.”

You sighed a little bit, mulling over what to say. You weren’t mad that he asked, you just hated talking about it. “There’s nothing much to say.” You said after a couple seconds of silence. “I was in an accident. Got fucked up. End of story.” Paul and Marko both nodded, taking the hint not to ask anymore. The taller blond wrapped an arm around your shoulders and rested his chin on top of your head. A silent apology. You smiled a little and leaned into him, letting him know it was okay.

After that, David, Dwayne and Michael arrived back with food, and once everyone settled down at a nearby table to eat, David proposed that they go back to their place after eating. You were nervous to accept, but they were cool guys so far, so you didn’t see the harm in it.

Before you could voice your opinion, however, a sudden cold, wet substance suddenly splashed all over your face. You yelped and got up, trying to shake off whatever the fuck it was, when you heard laughter getting distant. Suddenly, the boys were all getting up and shouting, someone was holding onto your shoulders, and when you wiped at your eye you could see it was Dwayne. He looked absolutely livid.

“What the fuck just happened?” You asked, looking down at yourself, disgusted to find that your clothes were soaked now too. The brunette gripped your shoulders a little tighter, not enough to hurt but the pressure was there, “Some people have a death wish.”

You would have asked him to elaborate, but then something dawned on you. “Oh shit!” You exclaim, hand going up to your bandaged eye. “Fuck, I have to get home, I have to change this, fuck!” Dwayne's eyes widened a little, and he nodded, calling attention to the other boys, who were all talking angrily to each other. They all looked over, and when they heard that you needed to change your bandage, they all hurried over. “Our place is closer. Michael, take Y/N to get the supplies he needs. We’ll meet back up at the hotel.” David all but commanded, and everyone seemed to be in agreement. The rest of the boys took off on their bikes while Michael steered you in the direction of a small convenience store on the edge of the boardwalk.

“You okay?” Michael asked, worry written all over his face. You nodded at him, though in reality you were feeling gross, sticky and anxious as hell. You thought it was so nice of them to help you out, really, but you knew this meant that they would probably end up seeing your eye. Seeing your scars. The thought alone was enough to make you slightly nauseous. The brunette could tell that something more was going on with you, so he gently took your hand as you approached the shop. You looked at him, and he smiled at you, squeezing your hand gently. You gave a light smile back and looked away.

After buying the necessary wrap, tape and some bottles of water, you both get on Michaels bike and ride off to their place. You were just thinking about it now, David had said the word “hotel”. Did they stay at an actual hotel?

It didn’t take you long to figure out. When you arrived at the hotel, that was really more of a cave, you were in absolute awe of the place. It was massive and beautiful, you couldn’t believe these guys actually lived here. You had so many questions, but now that you were here, they would have to come after.

Michael led you over to a slightly dusty couch and you sat down, holding the items in your hands nervously. Everyone was sitting around you, you had a very attentive audience that you didn’t really want.

“Is there, uh, a private place I could do this?” You asked, and your heart sank when they shook their heads. “Most of the rooms collapsed when the earthquake hit. There’s not much left, and the parts that remain are too dangerous to go into.” Marko explained, and you sighed. You supposed there was no getting around it.

“Okay, well. Just, don’t say anything, okay?” You got out the bandage wrap from its packaging and took a deep breath. Slowly, you unwrapped the dirty bandage from around your face, revealing your eye to the boys.

All of their facial expressions changed, some more surprised than others. David looked the least shocked, eyes of steel trained on your face, just looking. Dwayne and Michael looked a little more concerned, Michael especially, but otherwise they tried to keep their expressions neutral. Paul and Marko looked intrigued, if anything. Like they wanted to ask questions but were reigning themselves in.

Overall, they kept quiet, and they didn’t shy away from your appearance, so you counted your blessings as you cleaned and dressed your eye as quickly as possible. When you were all finished, Marko and Paul launched themselves at you, sitting next to you with wide smiles on their faces.

“Dude! You’re so badass!” Paul shouted, and Marko was quick to agree. “You should get an eyepatch or something. Crank up the badass factor.”

You laughed at their antics, blushing a bit at their words. You could tell that they really thought you were actually cool. It warmed your chest and you smiled as they went on about eyepatch ideas.

Eventually, David dragged the two away, saying it's getting late and they should probably take you home now. You nodded in agreement, letting out a yawn. You didn’t realize just how tired you were.

Dwayne was the one who ended up taking you home, the ride was a lot gentler and smoother than it usually was, which you were grateful for. When you arrived at your house, and you got off his bike, Dwayne pulled on your arm before you could leave. You looked at him, confused, but then he got off his bike, and he stood in front of you, and he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. You froze, heart pounding. Dwayne pulled away and let go, giving you a small smile. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

You swallowed hard as he got back on his bike. “Yeah- you too.” You stumbled out, making him chuckle. He then rode back off into the night, and you were left stunned on your front lawn.

You didn’t know what would happen now, you had absolutely no clue when it came to the gang of bikers. But you found yourself at peace with it.

Life could never be predictable anymore. And you were more than okay with that.

[whaleofatjme1920]

The Ends of Hallways (Proxies X F!Reader)

The Ends of Hallways

[Proxies X F!Reader]

[Warnings: slight language]

[AN: Y'all are just gonna have to thank Eris for always sending me the best requests. I don't have favorites,,, but Reader, I have favorites. Also no Kate sorry :( ]

Your face was practically squished against the glass of the car Hoodie had stolen as the four of you pull into the parking lot of woods that brim with the Operator’s energy. You’ve never seen these woods in person - only in dreams. You’ve never even really seen your master in person, once again, like these woods, he too has been confined to your dreams. But you hear him, and often. His voice falls down on your ears like gentle rains that fall from the heavens. He is everything and more. That is why it is so exciting for you to finally be here, so close to him, and to his presence.

“You excited?” You hear your group leader ask.

You nod and press harder up against the glass. “Are we going now?” You’re ready to bounce out of the car and everyone can see that.

He chuckles in response. “What do you think Hood? Time to go?”

The hazel eyed man behind him shoots the driver a look. “Masky, just look at her, she’s gonna break the window if we don’t.” There’s a slight playfulness in his tone that tells you the right hand really isn’t annoyed with you.

“Fair enough,” Masky smiles. He then reaches behind his seat, hand slapping at who used to be the runt’s knee. “Tobes? Tob-Tobes, get up.”

Toby’s eyes shoot open as he lurches forward. “I’m u-u-up, I-I’m u-up,” he yawns as his hands rub tiredly at his eyes. “Are w-w-we here a-alaready?” He asks, the exhaustion still clear in his tone.

Both of the men in the front seats nod. “C’mon, let’s get going,” Hoodie says as he pulls up the lock on his car door before sliding out.

You wait impatiently for Masky to unlock the car then zip out like a bat from hell. You’re immediately at the edge of one of the forest’s many trails and taking in the sights and sounds of your boss’s woods. They’re beautiful, really. The autumn colors bathe the woods in fiery oranges and passionate reds with threads of gold to interlock it all together. The sky is just the slightest shade of blue as clouds cover the sun. There weren’t any people here either - not under the little structures, not exploring, not anyone but you and your comrades.

“Wrong one,” Hoodie says as he closes the trunk to the car before tossing a backpack to Toby, who catches it like second nature.

You whip your head around to see that Masky, Hoodie and Toby are smiling at how excited you are before silently asking you to follow them. “Where are we going?” You ask, eyes wide as you jog up to them.

“Across the field. There’s this cool tunnel of trees we think you’ll appreciate,” Masky replies as he leads his group across the grass. It crunches slightly as the four of you move, like it hasn’t been watered in a long time.

“R-Really?” Toby hums as he puts his hands in his pockets. “You s-s-sure we’re n-not gonna be l-late?” The young proxy gives a slight look to his group leader, eyebrow raised as if he’s sure the Operator is okay with them possibly being tardy.

Masky shakes his head before tapping his temple with his free hand, “he told me it’s okay.”

“He did?” You ask as stars cloud your eyes. The Operator, as you’ve heard so far, is to be feared and respected. He’s like a father you can look at but never touch. He seems so out of your range, like he’s not even visible - not even if you squint your eyes. You wonder what makes you so… interesting… in his eyes. You really don’t think you’re worth all the fuss. Clearly he does.

Masky chuckles before ruffling your hair with his hand, “yeah. I think he finds your enthusiasm endearing.” Masky’s not entirely incorrect. When they first got Toby, the Operator was strangely favorable towards the young proxy as well - maybe because he was hand plucked, special, and therefore deemed worthy of his time. You were similar to Toby, albeit, you accidentally got involved with the Operator. He liked you, chose you, then kept you.

Hoodie whistles slightly as the four of you step into the trees, his gloved hand reaching up to tear off a branch from one of the low hanging trees then swing it aimlessly as his side. “Seems pretty obvious in my opinion,” he whacks Toby lightly with the stick making said proxy laugh. “Looks like Toby isn’t the only golden child anymore.”

“P-Probably not,” Toby hums, a slight melancholy coming into his tone. “Think I-I’ve been losing f-f-favor with h-hin for a w-while.” He glances over his shoulder and smiles at you.

You frown slightly and place your hand on his shoulder, “I don’t think so,” you say. “Just means he has two golden child-s now.”

Toby beams.

You do too.

The group continues to move through the trees, mostly silent save for Masky and Hoodie pointing out little memories from time to time. Things such as some guy named ‘Alex’ chasing them through here, Masky’s waking up with no memory, Hoodie’s nature shots, and everything in between. You learn a lot about the hands of your group from when they were just scared film students to the things they’ve done as proxies here. It’s kind of nice as you’ve never really spoken to them this way before.

When you first came into this life and were placed in this group, the hazing process kicked in like wildfire. Almost every day was a mentally or physically, sometimes both, a draining task and a bonding agent. Authority was not to be questioned and they made that more than clear. Eventually, the hazing grew lighter and lighter until it just… didn’t exist. That was how it went - you were no longer considered naive and starry eyed. Still, authority was not to be questioned, and it’s why you and your comrades have never really talked on this specific level before.

It’s why it’s such a treat that you get to talk to them like this now.

Eventually, the four of you make it to an odd stretch of trees. They tunnel over each other, a lot like a thorny funnel, but they frame the sky so well.

“If the sun was setting,” Masky starts. “It would look like a cradle.”

You take a step back and observe the tunnel of trees, trying to imagine the setting sun. The mental image is pretty. “Will we ever be back here to see it?”

“Oh definitely,” Masky continues. “But uh, the business we’re here for today? Don’t know if that’s meant for anyone but me and maybe Hoodie.”

You look on instinct to Hoodie who nods. “Is that normal?”

“Sure is,” Hoodie says as he takes in the scent of the cooling autumn woods. He knows the group is almost to the limits of the Operator’s realm. “Tell me what you feel right now, Reader,” he says in passing as he flicks the stick somewhere off the given trail.

With a glance around at your surroundings, you attempt to get a feel for the area you’re in. It’s cold, much colder, but the atmosphere still feels a little thick. The further you go into the woods (and by extension the Operator’s bounds to which you don’t even know exist yet), you get that odd feeling in your legs that feels like they’ve fallen asleep. It’s like the physical sensation of static. You try to explain it in words, but they fail. Instead, you allow Hoodie into your thoughts.

“Nice,” he smiles. “Alright, try to ask for permission in.”

“I need to ask for permission?”

“E-Everytime,” Toby begins as he and the others pause. They’re right on the edge of the bubble and can feel it so much stronger than you can. “It’s t-to ensure n-normal humans c-can’t come in,” Toby begins to explain as you gaze around your surroundings, wondering how you’ll even begin to ask. “T-Though, their f-feelings sometimes k-kick into o-overdrive and they e-end up p-piercing through the v-veil on a-a-accident.” He chuckles softly and you know exactly what he’s referring to - you’ve heard tales of the people who get stuck wandering where they shouldn’t: always ends in someone strung up in the pines. “W-We’ve all learned t-to ask p-permission like b-breathing.”

You shoot your comrade a confused glance, wondering what that will mean for you. “I just ask?”

“Kind o-of,” Toby says. “Just l-let your f-f-feelings guide you. She’ll t-t-tell you whether you’re a-a-allowed in or not.”

You close your eyes and begin to hone in on whatever your heart is telling you. It’s a cold feeling, mostly like vines that slip up and down your limbs as they grow upwards and then inwards towards your heart. It’s an odd feeling. Once the static vines pierce through your heart, you physically see a fog roll into the forest around you. It consumes you and your comrades before you remember Toby mentioned ‘she.’ The fog thickens. “Wait, she?” You say as the static begins to leave your system. It feels like you’re tearing through roots as you walk forward.

“He didn’t mean it,” Masky quickly replies as he begins to pull you through the fog. “Good job on asking though. Strong response,” he says as gestures to the fog, his hand swimming through the billowy clouds. “Wives’ tale is the stronger the fog, the more genuine you were in response.”

You wade your fingers through the thick fog as you and the others walk forward, deeper and deeper into the darkness where there was none. “Must’ve had a really genuine response, huh?” You mumble to yourself. The fog doesn’t even feel like normal fog - it feels thick and heavy and leaves slight dew on your clothing as you walk. How interesting.

‘Head talk from here on out,’ Hoodie says as the four of you reach a stretch of woods that feels slightly dangerous.

‘Did you feel it too?’ Toby asks, his hand at his hatchet.

Hoodie nods slightly, his eyes narrowing as he slows his pace so he’s guarding the back. He gives you a slightly concerned look as the fog evens out. Everyone but you knows that they’re in perhaps one of the most dangerous parts of the veil. The Operator’s mere presence is usually enough to deter the things like the Rake from his grounds, but that often means they get trapped here - in the in-between - and lash out on the first thing they sense. The sooner the four of you get out of this dangerous spot, the better.

‘What do you sense?’ You ask, cutting mentally through the rough silence, your own hand moving to your blade.

Hoodie looks like he’s about to answer you before he holds his fist up and the other three of you duck down instantly, dipping below the fog. Just then, some deer begin walking past.

‘Deer?’ You say in a questioning tone.

‘Not just any deer,’ Hoodie begins as the deer slowly nibbles on the leaves and other things. ‘Take a good look at their bodies. They look normal to you?’

You narrow your eyes slightly and get used to peering through the fog as the deer pass. Eventually, you’re able to look at their coats. There’s something off about them, something wrong. Something you can’t quite place. The longer you watch them as they move in front of you, the stronger that off feeling gets. They have every physical part of the deer down but it’s just not right. It’s like their joints don’t fit well beneath their skin. And their eyes… Their eyes are completely hollow.

‘You see it?’ Masky asks as the last of the deer passes by. He glances over his shoulder briefly to see you nod. ‘We’re lucky they didn’t change this time,’ he mumbles, slowly inching forward while crouched against the earth.

‘What would’ve happened if they changed?’ You inquire, moving quietly alongside your comrades.

‘Nightmare fuel,’ Toby finally pipes in. ‘Nothing about them looks right. Big mouths full of sharp teeth, black eyes, too many limbs, like a messed up centipede,’ he finishes, a slight shudder coming into his mental tone.

You notice the other two of your group members nodding in agreement before finally deeming it safe enough to stand up and finally exit the in-between of the veil.

You’re greeted to the sight of a beautiful, rustic looking Germanic mansion surrounded by iron gates that hold honeycomb patterns that trail skywards only to end on sharp peaks that you’re almost certain your boss has spiked people on plenty of times. There’s also flowers of every kind in the front gardens that catch your eyes the moment you step through the grand gates. There’s fountains and topiaires, statues and benches that tell you the Operator drips with style and elegance.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Masky smiles.

You nod, “it’s gorgeous.” The air smells slightly expensive, but mostly sweet. How is it that a place like this can even possibly exist? Around the mansion are autumnal trees, mostly maple, some sycamore and other birch. Scattered on the front lawn are other proxies and some independents, mostly catching up and talking before leaving through the same gates you entered from. Some of them smile and wave as they pass you, others grunt and turn their nose up at you upon realizing you’re the youngest. This place sings with the Operator’s overwhelming presence.

Your comrades continue to watch your amused expression as they lead you to the front doors of the mansion. They’re large and stained glass, slightly gothic in woodwork and tower over you.

“Go ahead,” Hoodie chuckles as he nods for you to open the doors.

You glance back to him, then at the large doors before tentatively placing your hands on their surface. With a small breath, you push them open and find yourself greeted to the most exquisite foyer you’ve ever seen. Large chandeliers hang from the ceiling, sapphires and rubies drip from the fixtures and shine the light beautifully across the marble floors. Gold leaf adorns almost everything that juts out while the huge staircase in front of you beckons you forward.

“Doesn’t seem like he needs us yet,” Masky says as he checks his watch. “Got here earlier than expected, huh?” He lightly ribs Hoodie who rolls his eyes in response. “C’mon, let’s go to the sun room. Don’t wanna wait around in here.” He nods for the three of you to follow.

Toby clears his throat slightly as if to remind the two in charge that you’re still very much here and new.

“Oh, right,” Masky says. “Reader, this is super important, so listen up,” your group leader begins as he turns on his heels to eventually rest his hands on your shoulders.

You raise a brow at his sudden contact. Masky normally didn’t touch you unless what he had to say was important - which really, really didn’t happen often.

“This mansion likes to play off your thoughts, feelings, and logic,” he says, his hand gesturing to the staircase that’s slowly moving directions. You didn’t even hear it begin to shift. “The Operator usually keeps things in line for when he summons you, it’s almost a guaranteed path you’ll make it to him, but,” his eyes go serious. “If it’s just you and you’re moving around, you need to have a place in mind or it’ll accidentally spit you out somewhere totally random. We’ve had people get lost in here because the mansion is slightly playful and weirdly baneful depending on the individual walking around.”

“The Operator has a playful side?”

Masky stifles a laugh before shaking you lightly. “I legitimately mean it, you need to have a place in mind or you’re gonna get lost and the Operator isn’t gonna be happy. By extension, I won’t be happy because I need to come get you.”

“Mhm,” Hoodie nods in agreement. “And you can’t have the thought in passing either, it’s gotta be on your mind until it’s in sight.” After Hoodie’s words leave his mouth, Masky lets you go.

You take all the information in and wonder just what makes the place run. It’s like it has its own personality - it’s playful and baneful? You have to ask it permission to even enter its grounds and it deems whether you’re worthy or not? What kind of power does the Operator even have and why on earth would he even care about that kind of stuff? If he truly wanted his proxies to access him, he’d do it with no hesitation. The humans that would wander into his rooms would just end up tasting someone’s blade.

“Sun room?” Hoodie reminds Masky.

Your entire walk to the sun room you try to conjure a mental image in your head. They say it’s doubtful you’ll get lost so long as you’re with them, but you consider it good practice. When you finally make it to the sun room, you’re pleased to see it’s relatively empty save for a few groups interspersed in the large, window adorned room overlooking a silver lake. There’s a few independents walking around with carts holding different tea time finger-foods and waiting tea sets on every table. Maasky leads you over to one of the tables nearest to the view of the lake.

“So, what business exactly are we here for today?” You ask as you waste no time in pouring yourself some tea.

Masky shrugs, “no idea. He said he just wanted us to come.”

“T-Think he r-really only n-needs an audience w-with them though,” Toby adds before silently thanking you for pouring him some tea as well. “L-Leaves us some t-t-time to chat. Y’know, t-the thing H-Hood hates us d-doing,” he lightly jokes.

Hoodie scoffs and feigns being annoyed, “I only hate you two chatting when we’re in the middle of tearing out some guy’s entrails.”

“Y-Yeah, which is a-all the time,” Toby giggles.

You laugh as well.

The four of you are in a heated argument about something relatively stupid when static overtakes Masky and Hoodie’s hearing. They visibly pause, as if they’re trying to key into something you can’t understand when it suddenly stops.

“Have t-to go?” Toby inquires before taking a strawberry tart and popping it into his mouth.

Both Masky and Hoodie nod.

“Yeah. Keep an eye on Reader, please? We won’t be too long,” Masky replies with a small, tired smile.

Toby flashes the two a thumbs up before the both of you watch them leave, a clear destination on their minds.

It’s not long until Toby gets distracted by some other independents that stroll into the mansion. You recognize the two of them as relatively minor legends - well, maybe not the one with the smile. His name is Jeff.

“So, this is your fresh meat, huh?” Jeff chuckles as he lightly pushes Toby’s shoulder. “She looks a little scrawny. Are you feeding her right?”

Toby laughs and nods, “Masky w-w-would lose his m-mind if you s-s-said that.”

Jeff’s chest rumbles as he laughs. “I’m joking,” he holds his hand up as a sign of truce. “Hope you know you’re running with one of the only decent groups out there, Reader,” he says before picking up his tea cup. It looks slightly comical as he brings it to his lips.

You offer him a smile and nod, “yeah, I know.”

The man to Jeff’s left nods in agreement, “Masky’s really good at what he does. Got one of the best.”

Toby immediately fights the notion (playfully) and the three engage in conversation that’s lively and vibrant all the same. You listen to the three verbally duke it out before you find yourself bored. You can’t just leave though, but you want to move at the same time.

“Toby?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I excuse myself?”

“W-Where to?”

“Washroom,” you reply.

“Do y-you need m-me to a-accompany y-y-you?”

Both Eyeless Jack and Jeff scoff.

“She’s a big girl, let her go,” Jeff says as he nods his own approval for you to go. “You told her about the mindset thing?”

Toby nods.

“Yeah, then she’s good to go,” Eyeless Jack agrees.

You flash the men at your table a smile before getting up. You push in your chair and then make it to the entrance of the sunroom, leading into the halls. You don’t have a set destination in mind. The moment you step out of the sunroom, you feel the air change. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s different. On instinct, you turn your gaze over your shoulder to see the sunroom is gone. It’s just hall and lining the hall are doors upon doors.

Alright, you can work with that! A small smile comes to your face as you begin to walk forwards, allowing your curiosity to bloom. The first door you decide to open is one that’s honestly not that exciting. It was just a storage unit. Another was a study. Then it was someone’s room. Another room. And another. How many residence rooms are there?

You close yet another door and then feel a thought come into your head, taking a seat on your train of thought like a butterfly sunbathes on a flower. She - Toby had mentioned it. And you wondered. You let the thought stay. Before you know it, you’re walking through the halls guided by forces you don’t quite understand, and the further you get into the mansion, the stranger the atmosphere becomes. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s not a normal feeling either. You watch as the light fixtures change from something relatively modern and regress into something more vintage. The dust begins to kick up. Irish lace begins to pepper the ceiling. You notice how the doors change style as well. How strange.

Eventually, you reach a dead end stretch of hall. At the very end of this hall is a singular door that looks weathered, as if it was sunbleached and painted over in oils. There’s an elegance to it you can’t quite place, and like a siren song, you find yourself being beckoned to it. Your proxy instincts kick in like second nature the closer you draw to it. You feel your breathing lighten, your steps as well, and you move towards it with a silence that is unmatched - as if you’re floating on air. You draw closer and closer to the door. It’s so magnetic, and you can’t quite explain why/ But closer still you must be to it.

Your hand tenderly grasps the doorknob - it feels like ice - and you twist it open. You wonder if you should be doing this. A part of you feels like you shouldn’t be doing this, but another part of you says this is what you were meant to see. You push the door open ever so slightly, just enough to be able to see inside, but the door is heavy, almost as if it doesn’t want you to. Like it’s trying to protect you from something further. You wonder if it just wishes to keep its secrets.

It’s gorgeous, it truly is. It puts the rest of the mansion to shame. It looks old - perhaps from 16th century Germany and fit for royalty. Plants of all kinds line the walls. They look like emeralds as light shines through their leaves. The sunlight kisses the flowers that sprout from the stalks. Beautiful woodwork surrounds the windows that are covered in fairytale-esque stained glass pieces. The scent is of something much, much sweeter and warmer than the rest of the mansion. Your eyes then draw to the center of the room, where an ornate table sits. There’s gold leaf decorating its legs followed by symbols you can’t really pin down. A tablecloth that looks like it was weaved from the stars above is the only thing that separates a delicate tea set from the precious mahogany table. The tea smells heavenly from where you stand.

Before you can press into the room, you pause upon seeing slender, pale hands take hold of the tea pot. Your eyes follow upwards to the owner of the hands only to see a woman so much more beautiful than the moon in twilight and the sun in the morning. Falling from her shoulders was golden hair that looked like a sea of amber as it cascaded down near the floor. Flowers were woven into it - mostly snowdrops, baby’s breath and queen Anne’s lace. She’s dressed in something from medieval Europe, and never once does her sleeve touch the table. She begins to pour herself some tea, a honey like hum coming from her being as she pours the sweet liquid. Her eyes flick upwards for but a moment when she hears a bird chirping outside. Her eyes are so dark, there exists no white sclera. They’re so dark, like black holes that hide in the depths of space, but you feel as if she holds the universe inside of them. She’s so beautiful, you’re not sure she’s real. A cat has jumped up onto the table, purring at her. When she smiles, your heart sings.

You want to say hello to her and spend time in her presence when you attempt to open the door some more. It creaks slightly. The hinges are ancient. Before you can say anything, the door is slammed shut, sending you flying backwards. You let out a sound of shock before seeing Toby reaching down to get you.

“What t-the hell a-a-are you thinking?” He hisses as he picks you up, grabbing your bicep and beginning to drag you away from the door that still holds your attention. “You r-really just w-wandered off l-like that?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, attempting to get free of his grasp as he continues to pull you along. No matter how hard you smack at him, he doesn’t let go.

“M-Masky said it’s not s-safe for y-y-you to wander o-off. A-And without m-me? D-D-Did you have a-any cognitive t-t-thought when you w-went out on a l-limb like t-that?” He sounds so heated.

You find he’s bringing you back to the sunroom, undoubtedly going to tell Masky and Hoodie about your misbehavior. “Why are you being so weird?” You retort as you attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. “It’s just a room!” You cry out in an exasperated tone.

Toby only reprimands you louder. It’s a losing game.

You eventually find yourself back in the sunroom. Only, instead of Eyeless Jack and Jeff, you see the deeply concerned and slightly pissed off faces of Masky and Hoodie. They’re not happy to see you, and you’re not exactly thrilled to see you either.

“Take a s-s-seat,” Toby says in a harsh tone as he thrusts you back into your seat.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Masky asks, not even attempting to mask his voice because that’s the privilege of being a proxy. You’re able to reprimand your proxies without anyone giving a care.

“You can’t just go off like that,” Hoodie continues as he furrows his brows. “You could’ve gotten-”

“Hurt? This is the Operator’s mansion, what the fuck is gonna hurt me in here other than himself or you two?”

“That’s it,” Masky points out. “He can seriously hurt you if you snoop where you shouldn’t!” His hands grips at your wrist, tightening to a point of pain.

When you feel tears prick your eyes, Hoodie sighs and puts his hand on Masky’s shoulder, “stop it.”

Masky hesitantly lets you go.

“What did you see?” Hoodie asks with a deep sigh, his posture tensing. He’s really hoping you didn’t see the Operator’s trophy room.

You give your comrades a concerned look, not sure whether you should answer or not when Hoodie raises a slight brow. Damn it. You’re emotionally compromised. He’s seeing what he needs to without your permission.

“That’s… Odd…” He says.

Masky glances to Hoodie. “No.”

“Unfortunately, I think yeah,” Hoodie says with a growing frown. He glances to Toby for confirmation, and upon seeing Toby’s nod, says “yeah,” again.

Masky groans and puts his face into his hands, finding comfort in being buried into himself.

You hold your wrist in your hand and lean back in your chair. “Just… What is it you guys aren’t telling me?” You question, hoping they’d just bite the bullet and tell you.

The group shares a look, debating whether they should even say it or not. When no one says anything, you press them again.

“Come on,” you sigh. “It can’t be that bad.”

“It really could be,” Masky says as he finally releases his face from his hands. “No one knows what seeing it does.”

Your eyes widen before you bark a laugh. “What?”

“No, he’s serious,” Hoodie picks up. “Seeing that door is rare, like, rainbow pikachu rare. Proxies think it’s an omen or a bad luck thing. To see it means a group’s eventual demise.”

You briefly scoff at the thought of proxies being superstitious before you remember some of you can actually cast portals. It’s really not that out of pocket.

“N-No one has e-e-ever found o-out though,” Toby shrugs. “W-We just know t-that the g-groups that h-h-have n-normally e-end in death.” He looks a little uncomfortable as he says the words, like there’s a legitimate truth to what he’s saying even though he’d rather it be utter BS.

“To be fair, we thought it was a rumor prior to you sneaking off,” Hoodie says as he tries to calm down his group.

You take in this information with a small frown. How could something that beautiful be that evil or a harbinger of doom? The thought of it left you perplexed as your comrades continued to lecture you on not wandering off until Masky and Hoodie were called away.

“I don’t know if I feel comfortable leaving Reader here with-”

Toby rolls his eyes, “you c-cant just s-say you want m-me to come with i-instead. N-Not need to insult m-my competence a-a-as a babysitter,” he mumbles before glancing down to his hatchets.

Masky sighs and nods for Toby to follow him out. Looks like it’s just you and Hoodie.

“So,” you awkwardly begin, not really sure what to do or what to say.

“So,” Hoodie hums back. “Anywhere you wanted to go?” When he sees the glint in your eyes, he shakes his head. “Like, a normal place. We’re gonna be here for a while while those two are out,” he chuckles, watching as you visibly deflate.

You allow the question to bang around in your head until you nod with a thought in mind. “The library. I’d like to go to the library.”

Hoodie smiles at that suggestion and finishes the rest of his tea before standing up. He stretches for a moment, then leads you to the hallway your original snooping began. You noticed as his thoughts immediately became clouded with the word and vision of ‘library’ as the two of you trekked the halls. As you walked, you barely recognized any of the doors you passed. They weren’t on your radar, which was odd in your opinion as you had opened a lot of door you probably shouldn’t have.

Eventually, you reach two large oak doors. Hoodie pushes them open and you’re greeted to the sight of a beautiful library. It’s impossibly huge - how could such a place exist in the mansion? You’re well aware it’s a huge place, but the fact that all of this is here… It’s bigger than a downtown city library you visited when passing through Chicago a few months ago. The Operator’s influence is beautiful, isn’t it?

“I’m gonna be in the sci-fi section,” Hoodie says as he nods over to the right wing of the library. “It’s on the second floor.” You notice the spiral staircase that leads to what appears to be a balcony - it must stretch backwards forever. “Check in with me in about 15 minutes. Don’t do anything stupid.” It’s surprising how relaxed he’s being with you. You would have expected someone like Hoodie to be a lot angerier and more observational.

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, you nod and flash him a thumb’s up before bounding over to the left wing of the library. Nothing is properly labeled, but you get a strong bout of intuition where everything is. Right now, you’re on the hunt for history.

The aisle that holds the history books looks just as old as you would have expected it to. The books here aren’t any you’ve ever seen in stores either - they’re largely from the time period they’re to be representing. Some are more modern, but you get the feeling that they don’t exist anywhere else but under the Operator’s influence. You find a few books that talk about the early history of proxies, some on independents, but nothing to inform you on what you had found.

It’s honestly a little maddening. You check in with Hoodie when you have to - he asks you to list the spines of the books you’re currently looking at - and then you’re back to your fruitless search. You run up and down the halls of the history section looking for anything when you hear static begin to buzz in your heads. The feeling travels upwards like the vines you felt earlier from your heels to your chest. When they claw deep into your heart, you feel a pull. And once again, like a sailor beckoned to the rocks due to a siren’s song, you follow it.

It twists and turns you through the shelves, making you zip past the few proxies and independents that are currently visiting this wing of the library before you’re drawn to a rotunda. You look backwards and see in the distance the front doors of the library. When did this place get a middle wing? It was just straight shelves and a wall with large windows overlooking the rolling hills of the woods. You turn your attention upwards to the ceiling of the rotunda. There’s a large skylight that allows sunlight to cascade down. Around that are gems you don’t even know the name of that weave a mosaic of something positively divine. You allow your gaze to follow the shaft of warm sunlight down, and there, sitting at a table with a book in hand (it looks like a journal) is the Operator himself.

“S-Sir!” You manage to squeak out as you find yourself startled to be in his presence, Heat rises to your cheeks when he looks up from his book to turn his attention to you.

“How did you get here?” He asks, confusion etching his body as he curiously tilts his head.

Your breath hitches. “I’m so sorry,” you apologize, bowing your head almost immediately. “I don’t know how I got here. It just felt like a pull and suddenly I was here? I was in the left wing and looking over history books and I-” you continue to rattle off until the Operator holds up his hand, silently signaling you to stop. You do so as soon as he asks.

“I-. It’s no matter,” he waves off. “Come, sit down beside me.” An inky black tendril sprouts from his back as he pulls the chair in front of him out, allowing you to sit in his presence.

You will your stone-like legs forward and attempt to gracefully take a seat in front of him. It’s a slightly awkward silence before he speaks again.

“How have you been, Miss Reader?”

“I’m alright,” you reply, voice no higher than a whisper.

The Operator hums. “Good.”

Another pregnant pause.

“Child, where is your book?”

“I uh, didn’t grab one?” You answer softly. You can tell the Operator is looking at you with what he can convey to his fullest as confusion. “When I was pulled here I just.. Followed,” you attempt to explain. “I don’t know why I’m here.”

“And what have you done today?” He asks, giving his passing attention to you like a father would.

You bite your lip before steering the conversation towards the room you saw. “I think I met someone.”

“You did, did you?”There’s a passing interest as if he’s saying ‘that’s nice, honey.’

You nod. “She was in a tea room-”

He pauses.

“I found her by accident-”

He makes sure he’s hearing you correctly.

“Her hair was golden-”

He looks up.

“She had plants-”

He’s sitting upright now.

“She had a cat-”

He leans forward.

“Her smile rivaled the stars-”

He’s focusing so intently on you now.

“Her voice was like honey-”

He entirely focused on you.

“She was beautiful.”

The Operator’s ichor pauses for just a moment as he takes in the description of the woman you described. It makes a part of him sing and another part of him sob. He hasn’t heard of her in so, so long.

When you look up, you see the Operator practically leaned halfway over the table and entirely focused on you. It makes you jump. “I’m sorry,” you apologize sheepishly, thinking you saw something you shouldn’t have. “I wasn’t thinking and I uh, think the mansion led me to her?”

The Operator wordlessly nods. “Was she pouring tea?” He asked, voice so much gentler than anything you could ever expect him to conjure up.

You slowly nod. “She was.”

The Operator suddenly slumps down, making you jolt. You rise on instinct to help him when he waves you back down. “Do you realize who you’ve come into contact with?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I’m afraid not, Sir,” you say with slight remorse.

The Operator chuckles deeply - it rumbles his chest and in your head. “You found her.” He could smile, you were sure it would be from ear to ear if he had the correct facial features. “All these years later and you found her.” He emphasizes you like a bittersweet affirmation.

“Who is she?” You ask softly.

Your boss sits back up again. “Someone who loves me,” his tendril sprouts once again from his back and moves towards you. “Someone who loves you,” it taps your nose. “Someone who loves us.” The tendril makes a grand, sweeping gesture.

You take in the words and nod, still not knowing what they mean. Upon seeing your confusion, he decides to elaborate.

“A long, long time ago, in a realm you could not begin to fathom, there was light and there was dark,” he begins, his voice slipping into something akin to someone saying a bedtime story. “I was the light, and that cur we call Zalgo was the dark.”

You scrunch your nose at the sound of his name.

“The dark and the light were born from nothing, and she was beautiful.” His audible smile is actually endearing to hear. “Throughout the years, the light and the dark fought, constantly at each other's throats. It was woven in the threads of history, it had been our birthright. When we came to this place, this planet after being cast from our home - a palace amongst all palaces, a kingdom that rose far above any other, the nothingness came with us. She called herself Liebevolle Frau. She loved her children.” By this point in the story, the Operator has taken the liquids from the coffee cup he drinks from and animated them into the characters for this story.

You watch with stars in your eyes.

“But no guardian is without its favorites, and I happened to be hers.” Liebevolle Frau’s figure was shown sheltering the Operator’s much smaller one. “And this caused a rift that could not be mended through the light and dark. Eventually, the dark waged war on the light.”

It’s a war you’re still fighting to this day.

“In the 1500s, long after this mansion had been built and my power continued to grow, Zalgo had almost wiped us off the face of the earth to splatter out remains across all the five realms. Liebevolle Frau, thought caught off guard,” that would explain the tea, “sheltered me and protected this place and all who resided in it. At the time,” the Operator looks at you. “Independents and proxies had lived here much more commonly than they do now.”

You smile softly.

“Liebevolle Frau’s power had been pushed to its limit in holding back her first born son, and mind, as well as her heart, broke because of it. In her remaining moments of lucidity, she imbued herself, her soul,” the liquids take the form of something fluttering and soft, like a bird, “her everything, and became the place I hold jurisdiction over today.”

Your eyes widen as you think back to the odd feelings you’ve had coming here for today - and Toby’s slip-up.

“I have not been able to find her since the late 1500s,” The Operator explains as the liquids dance back into the coffee mug, the figure of Liebevolle Frau taking a hair longer than the rest. “She lives in everything.”

You’re honestly speechless over everything the Operator has said because it’s so… It’s strangely heartfelt. You’ve never even spoken face to face with your boss and when you do, it’s because some force is guiding you to do so. But if that force felt so alive, it must have meant she wanted you to know.

“Her physical form,” you finally manage to wisp out. “She wanted to be at peace, didn’t she?”

The Operator chuckles deeply. “I would assume so.”

Before you can respond to anything or even come up with another response, you hear both Masky AND Hoodie yelling for you in your head. The jarring difference between your boss’s gentle voice and Masky and Hoodie crying out for blood is enough to make you jump (once again).

Upon seeing your sudden switch in atmosphere, the Operator hushes the voices in your head and calls them to his side.

Toby is the first to show up though, and quickly trailing after him is Masky and Hoodie. They both look ready to reprimand you but upon seeing you sitting with the Operator, nothing but reverence crosses their minds and bodies.

“Good evening, Sir,” Masky says as he bows his head. “Are you well?”

“Thoughtful, aren't you, Timothy?” There’s no animosity or anger in the Operator’s tone, but it makes Masky blush all the same.

A pregnant pause passes.

“I was just speaking with your newest member, Miss Reader,” a pale hand gestures to you. “Come, join us. I could use the company.”

You watch as confused glances get shared between your three comrades before they take a seat beside you.

A pleasant silence passes through the air before a gentle humming that’s sweeter than honey overtakes it like a passing breeze.

[theladyofdeath]

I’ll Be Seeing You {5}

Nesta x Cassian, 1940′s AU

Collaboration with @snelbz​​

Summary: After Cassian gets injured in the war, he’s taken to a war camp to be cared for until he gains enough strength to return to his battalion. While he’s there, he falls for a nurse that couldn’t care less about his title and doesn’t put up with his bullshit. Once he’s healed and the years pass by, he finds that there’s only one thing he wants to remember from the war, and she’s only a letter away.

Trigger Warnings: war, blood

Chapters will be posted every Monday.

Word Count: 2429

IBSY Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

“How do they look?”

Nesta removed the bandages, slowly, from Cassian's back. They didn’t look great, had looked far better the day before, but they had certainly been worse.

“A little discharge we have to keep our eye on, but nothing to worry about,” she promised. “How did you sleep last night, Major?”

“I can’t complain,” he said, sighing as she began to clean his wounds. “Only woke up a handful of times. I’ve certainly had worse nights of sleep. And you? How did you sleep, Nurse?”

“Well enough,” she said, as she eyed the book that sat beside his cot, the leather band that typically tied his hair back being used as a bookmark a few chapters in. “I see you’re enjoying the western.” 

Cassian’s back straightened. He’d been caught. “It’s….decent enough.” 

“Decent enough?” she repeated, amused, as she dabbed the wound with alcohol. Cassian hissed, even though it was quiet. “Admit that you’re a fan of Alexander Hillsworth.”

Cassian scoffed. “Alexander Hillsworth is a wannabe cowboy. It’s pathetic.”

“Mhmm,” Nesta crooned, continuing to work.

“Daisy, though,” Cassian went on. “She seems….nice.” 

Nesta suppressed her grin. “She-.”

Her sentence was cut off by commotion going on outside of the tent. Everyone’s attention swiveled to the tent flaps as they were thrown open, and a group of soldiers hurried inside, carrying a fallen man, Madja close on their heels. 

She stood there, frozen for a moment as she took in the gore covering the soldiers, the way the man’s arm hung in bloody ribbons. What was left of it at least. His leg hadn’t been as fortunate.

“Go.”

She looked down at Cassian, who was watching the scene unfold in front of them. She still had the bottle of alcohol in her hand, had barely begun to clean up his wounds, though she’d removed the bandage from his entire back. He jerked his chin towards the battered man they were carefully moving on a cot. “Go. They need you.”

“Your back—.”

“My back is nothing compared to that. That man might not make it the next hour. You need to go help him.”

Nesta nodded, her feet moving before her mind caught up with her.

It never got easier, seeing the blood, seeing the inside of a human being. Nesta didn’t focus on that, though, she focused on the man being laid on the table at the far end of the room. His eyes were wide open, glazed but panicked. 

Nesta stood above his head as Madja and another nurse began to look at his wounds. 

“Soldier, can you hear me?” Nesta asked, getting close to his face, so that she was all he could see. He met her eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?”

Madja began working on the man’s arm while another nurse began stitching up his leg.

So much blood.

Too much blood.

He had already lost more blood than they knew. 

The man’s eyes began to fade, but Nesta shook her head. “You must stay awake, soldier.”

“Nesta, press this against his wound,” Madja said, then hurried away to get the tools she needed from the cupboard. 

Nesta pressed the already blood-soaked rag into the man’s arm, where his wounds were the worst.

It was no use, though.

It was too bad.

He’d already lost too much blood.

Nesta pressed the rag into the wound, though, minimizing the blood loss.

She could feel death hovering outside the tent. Glancing back up at his face, she found the man was nearly unconscious again, but the soldiers who carried him were still nearby. “What happened?” She asked, tossing her head to try and get the loose hair that had fallen out of her braid out of her face.

“Artillery shell,” the oldest of the men said. The other two looked to him, as if he were the leader amongst them. With how young they all were, she assumed he must be.  “Landed just a few feet from where he was laid out. He took a few bad shots to the chest before the shell went off.”

Nesta used her other hand, already covered with blood to move the man’s shirt out of the way. Sure enough, there were bullet wounds in his chest, and not in a place that would heal easily.

Shit. She couldn’t mutter the word out loud, couldn’t let the soldiers think it was something they couldn’t handle, so she chanted the word in her head. Shit shit shit shit shit.

Madja came back with a series of surgical tools and got to work. Nesta remained where she was, rag in hands pressed to the wound that was bleeding out. 

The soldier’s eyelids began to flutter shut again.

“No,” Nesta snapped and got in his face, once again. “No, no, no, no,” she repeated, her voice getting louder with each one that came out. “Madja, he’s fading.” 

But Madja wasn’t moving anymore.

She had stilled.

“Madja!” Nesta yelled. 

Madja slowly set the tools down on the table before her and said, “He’s gone.”

Nesta looked back into the face of the man to find his absent eyes staring at the top of the tent. Nesta’s hands were still pressed into his wound.

“Surely there can be something-.”

“He’s gone, Nurse Archeron,” Madja said, quietly. “You should go clean yourself and return to the patients.” 

She stepped back, nodding, and swallowed harshly. Hurrying towards the tent entrance, she wiped her hands on her apron, removing it and dropping it and the bloody rag into the soiled laundry bin. She heard Madja give the soldiers instructions on where to take the young man’s body, which the younger of the two tended to, while the eldest man filled Madja in on who he was, what battalion he belonged to. She blocked out the answers as Madja asked if he had any living family. She didn’t need to know, didn’t want to know.

Pushing through the tent flaps, Nesta nearly dragged her hands down her face, but she remembered that the dead soldier's blood coated her hands, even if most of it had been wiped off on her apron. She hurried across the camp, to the small area where fresh water was brought for baths every day, and grabbed one of the smaller pitchers, as well as a small pile of rags and a bar of soap that was no more than a sliver. The camp mothers said nothing as Nesta stalked off to a quiet tree and sat down, splashing water onto a rag. It was almost warm after having sat in the sun all morning, but everything felt cold to Nesta as she rubbed the soap over her damp hands and scrubbed. She scrubbed and scrubbed until the blood was gone and her hands were red and raw, but still, she kept scrubbing.

She didn’t stop until a tan, calloused hand wrapped around her wrist, making her pause. After it was clear she was done with the unnecessary scrubbing, he let go of her wrist. Cassian, wearing a loose, cotton shirt, dropped down next to her by the tree. 

“You should be in bed,” was her only words of greeting.

“I’m not tired,” he replied, simply, planting himself in the grass with a grunt.

“You should be in bed, anyway,” she snapped. “You’re injured, you’re in no condition to-.”

“Here,” he said, holding out a couple of cigarettes and one of the small bottles of whiskey that had come from the care packages sent to them a few days prior.

Nesta blinked, her anger fading, just for a second. “What is this?”

“You need it,” he said, outstretching his hand. “Here.”

Nesta stared at his hand for a moment before taking a cigarette and the bottle. She cleared her throat, “Thanks.” 

Cassian nodded and put the other cigarette between his lips. He took out a match and lit the tip, then lit Nesta’s.

“Thanks,” she said, quietly. She took one drag then coughed, quietly.

“Been a while?” Cassian asked.

Nesta repeated the motion, and blew a cloud of smoke. “Something like that.”

Cassian nodded and remained quiet for a moment.  

After a moment, Nesta asked, “What are you doing out here, Cassian?” 

“I’ve done enough battlefield patching up to know how hard it is to lose a man.” He took a longer drag, holding it in for longer than she would have suggested before exhaling. “It’s not easy. And you sure as hell shouldn’t be alone after that.”

She swallowed harshly, but nodded, fighting the tears filling her eyes. Clearing her throat, she said, “It’s something I’ve had to become used to. I suspect it’s something I’ll have to deal with quite a bit more before this war is over.”

He nodded, not saying anything. He knew she was right, no matter how much he wished it weren’t so.

She toyed with the cap of the whiskey bottle in her hands. “I’m surprised Madja let you out of bed.”

“She was a little bit preoccupied when I left. Though I didn’t exactly ask for permission to go anywhere,” he admitted, taking the bottle from her and opening it. The wax seal came loose and he handed it to her.

She gave him a look of pure disapproval before taking the bottle. “You know, there’s a reason we give you specific instructions.”

“You know how I feel about staying in bed,” Cassian muttered. 

Nesta took a sip from the whiskey bottle before handing it to Cassian. He looked at it for a moment before taking it and taking a swig.

His face contorted as he swallowed it. “I can’t wait for a decent glass of whiskey.”

Nesta snorted, even though there was no emotion behind it.

“I guess it does the trick though, doesn’t it?” He asked, handing the bottle back.

Nesta nodded, taking a bigger sip this time. “Yeah, that it does.”

Cassian looked down and froze before he slowly reached over and grabbed her wet, bloodied rag.

Nesta jumped back as he reached for her. “What are you doing?”

“You missed a spot,” he replied, softly, and when he reached for her arm again, she didn’t move.

He flipped her arm over and just below her elbow, Cassian began to wipe off a patch of nearly-dried blood, that cigarette dangling from between his lips.

Her throat felt tight, but she let him clean her up.  It was quiet between the two of them for a few minutes, as they passed that cheap whiskey back and forth between them. Finally, Nesta breathed, “It’s never going to get easier, is it? Seeing… seeing death?”

He looked over at her and for a second, she wondered if he’d even answer. “I won’t lie to you, I’ve been on the front since the day the war started. I’ve seen battles that ended in victories and some that I was lucky to walk off the battlefield. I’ve lost some good friends.” He paused at that and looked out into the trees they were camped in. “I still see the face of every man I’ve lost and every man I’ve killed. Death isn’t easy. I’d be worried if you told me it didn’t affect you. But the fact that it does tells me you’ve got a good heart, and that you’re even here, helping take care of us, tells me what kind of person you are.”

Nesta followed his gaze, over the rolling hills and the gemstone-colored treetops.

“I could see myself loving a woman like you.”

Nesta’s eyes jerked to Cassian, but his eyes were still fixed on the woods beyond.

“You hardly know me,” she said, quietly, even as her heart began to beat a little bit faster.

“I like what I know,” he replied, without missing a beat.

Nesta chuckled, and shook her head. “I think you’re a little drunk, Major. Between the whiskey and those pain meds.”

“You know what they say about the drunk,” Cassian said, and met her gaze, at last. “They say what’s on their minds and they tell the truth.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed as her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. “Well, I think you’ve been reading too much of that romance novel and your heart is going soft. Perhaps you’re lovesick.” 

Cassian’s grin was heartstopping. “Blame it on Daisy.”

Despite herself and what she had just endured, Nestas head fell back and she laughed. 

“You’ve only just begun reading it!” She protested. “How can you grow to like a character so quickly?”

Cassian shrugged, lighting another cigarette. “I like how she’s described.”

“Mhmm,” Nesta crooned, “and how is she described? Do tell.”

“Let’s see,” Cassian began, looking up at the sky. “Gorgeous, with the voice of an angel. And, apparently, she has quite the wardrobe.”

“She’s an entertainer at a brothel!” Nesta protested. “She’s going to have quite the wardrobe.”

“You just don’t like her because she pleasures men for a living,” Cassian argued.

Nesta laughed, shaking her head. “Oh no. There’s a reason I dislike her and that certainly has nothing to do with it.”

Cassian gasped. “Are you spoiling the book for me, nurse?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but then it snapped shut as she realized that she indeed was about to spoil a few key details of the book. A laugh sputtered out of her instead. She very well may be a little drunk as well, since it had been quite a while since she’d imbibed in the slightest.

Turning to look at him, anything she was about to say died on her tongue as she found him already looking at her. There was something in his eyes, something aside from the glaze of the liquor and the pain meds, that made her chest tighten.

Clearing her throat, she stood, holding out a hand for him. “We should go. You need to be in bed resting.”

Rolling his eyes, Cassian took her hand. The rough calluses felt good against her skin, but he stood and grabbed what was left of the whiskey.

Nesta walked Cassian back to the tent, feeling something that closely resembled peace.

Not quite peace, but close.

She could at least carry on with her day, doing her duty with her chin lifted high.

Their hands remained touching each other’s, lingering, for just a moment after Cassian rose, after they began to walk toward the tent.

Nesta pretended that she hadn’t noticed.

But she certainly had.

~

Cassian had no idea what time he awoke, but it was dark, an oil lamp burning by his cot.

It wasn’t the only thing that was burning.

Cassian was drenched in sweat, his sheets soaked, his clothes sticking to his body. 

As he opened his eyes, a wave of nausea swept over him that had him quickly closing them, once more.

He was going to be sick.

He tried to roll over, tried to pull himself up, but couldn’t. 

His back ached, throbbed, burned as he moved against the sheets.

It had him hissing or groaning or something, he wasn’t sure, but he knew that a noise must’ve come out of him because he felt cool hands against his head a moment later, then hurried, hushed voices saying something that he couldn't quite make out.

He said something.

Her name.

Nesta.

Or, maybe he thought it, maybe his lips had simply moved, had formed her name but hadn’t quite gotten it out.

Either way, it was her face he saw behind his closed lids.

“He’s burning up,” a voice said, and Cassian heard it this time.

He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn’t quite muster it.

He heard someone curse.

That was her.

A filthy word portrayed beautifully from the woman who had captivated him.

He tried to say her name again, but wasn’t quite sure if he was successful or not as he faded into darkness. 

[akaashigiri]

Sleepy Jaegers

summary: eren and y/n are at a gathering at armin’s place, and their 2 year old is exhausted. eren is equally as exhausted.

pairing: dad!eren jaeger x fem!reader

word count: 1.69k

warnings: none, fluffff

a/n: sigh my baby fever possessed me to write this 💔 might make armin a father as well if people end up liking this one (i will anyway) 😋

These gatherings were almost like a ritual to the group.

There wasn’t ever a specific place they met, they would always gather in different places, wether it’d be the beach, a park, or at one of their homes. It didn’t matter where it took place, just as long as everyone was there. Everyone was obligated to come.

So of course that includes the littlest Jaeger.

It was mid September, and although the weather wasn’t bad at all, some didn’t really feel like going out to public places like the local park, so the group decided on Armin’s new place, since Sasha and Annie still have yet to see it (their homes are farther from the rest)

They were all gathered in the spacious living room; Jean and Sasha on the long couch, while Mikasa and Armin sat on the smaller one. Historia and Ymir shared the beige-colored chair in the corner of the room, while Annie sat on one of the kitchen stools as she watched Y/N and Connie do the dishes (Armin insisted, but the two almost threatened him if he were to touch a dish).

As soon as Eren walked in, he all but restricted anyone from sitting on the big beige reclining sofa, claiming that he deserved it for helping Armin pick it out. Eren was grateful for going to Ikea that day with Armin to pick out the sofa he was now slouched on, recliner out and all. It was now his favorite spot in the whole house (besides the kitchen, since he loved playing around with the smart refrigerator).

As Y/N passed another dish for Connie to rinse and dry, she suddenly felt a tug on her pants, looking down to meet the tired eyes of her daughter.

She was quick to rinse and dry her hands to pick her up, giving all of her attention to the little girl. “Aw, what’s wrong Mimi? Everything alright?” She asked, already noticing the fatigue on her face.

She only snuggled into her mother’s neck, giving her the simple response of, “Tired.” Her vocabulary was fairly short, due to the fact that she was only 2 and learned her words from the ones around her (Eren got in big trouble the day Y/N heard the word ‘shit’ come out of her daughter’s mouth).

Y/N wasn’t surprised she got tired easily today, since Jean gave her more candy then Y/N would usually allow. And with the way her, Ymir, and Mikasa were running around in the yard earlier today, Y/N already saw this coming.

“You’re tired?” she asked again, earning a nod from the crook of her neck. “Okay, mommy’s almost done. Go sit next to daddy until I finish, okay?” She tells her, moving her head back to face her daughter again. Myra nodded, allowing her mother to put her down.

Walking tiredly, Myra slowly moved through the kitchen and made her way to the living room, spotting her father laidback in the corner of the room, limbs sprawled out on the sofa.

Eren wasn’t sure if it was the father instincts, but he was the first to notice her presence in the room, stopping the ghost story Jean swears is real to bring his full attention to his daughter.

“Mimi’s come to save us, everyone!” Eren exclaims, throwing jazz hands up as everyone joined and cheered her on for simply walking in. Jean didn’t like what Eren was implying, but clapped nonetheless.

“You’re not funny. Aren’t dads supposed to tell good jokes?” He questioned, attempting to steal a fry from Sasha’s plate, but failing miserably as she only swats his hand away.

“No Jean, I think it’s the other way around, they’re supposed to be corny.” Armin butts in, watching with a smile as Myra finally starts walking towards her father.

Eren could already see the fatigue on her face, holding his arms out for her once she got a little closer. “What’s up Mimi, you tired?” Eren questioned, laughing as she instead of answering, simply lifted her arms up for him to take her.

She responds with a nod, her hair falling over her face as she was lifted onto his lap. As soon as she was situated, she wasted no time in making herself comfortable, wiggling out of her dad’s grasp and laying her stomach down on his, her head right above where his heart was.

“Nevermind.” he sighs, making the whole room burst out into laughter. This only made Myra whine, the loudness distrupting her attempt at sleeping. “Sorry Myra!” Sasha whispered, finally giving a fry to Jean afterwards.

“I wonder what got her so tired.” Annie questions, making Jean sink into the couch out of guilt as Eren sends him an irritated glance.

“Jean went and gave her a sugar rush before we got here. It was absolute hell.” Eren’s eyes furrow in frustration as he remembers earlier today and how hard it was for him to catch a nap without his energetic 2 year old jumping all over him. All while Jean was happily eating lunch with his wife.

“Okay, but I didn’t know she wasn’t supposed to have that much candy! Kids eat candy like crazy, right?” He attempts to defend himself, looking around the room for support, only to be met with silence.

“Yeah, thing is she’s not a kid! She’s a toddler! Dumbass.” he mumbles the last part, hoping that Y/N somehow wouldn’t hear. But she always found a way how.

“Can someone please slap Eren for me?” She yells from the kitchen. “Stop cursing in front of Myra!”

Eren has no time to defend himself as volunteers step up to do what their friend asked, but Mikasa was the quickest, and Eren was even quicker. He swiftly grabs Myra’s frog blanket from the bag sat beside him and hids his face in it, saving it from the harsh blow of Mikasa’s hand.

“You’re lucky I didn’t miss completely, I just don’t wanna wake Myra.” she confesses, walking back to her seat.

“God, I cant believe we almost named her after you.” Eren groaned, blanket still clutched in hand.

“Mimi’s close enough for me.” She smiles, noticing the way Myra starts to squirm a bit. “Throw the blanket over her, I think she’s cold.” She suggests, bringing Eren’s attention back to the little girl on his chest.

Eren is quick to unravel the rather big blanket from his grasp and take it in both hands to bring it in the air, watching it fall perfectly onto her small figure. The blanket basically covered his whole torso, the end tickling his neck a bit.

“Thanks again for the blanket, Historia. She loves it so much, a little too much.” he says, feeling his daughter move under the blanket so that her little arms were wrapped around his torso as far as she could go. “She won’t use the one I got her anymore.” he says with a slight frown.

The group laughs again, but quietly this time, not wanting the little girl to possibly wake up in a fit.

“I wouldn’t blame her, to be honest.” Jean shrugs, giving Eren a knowing glance, as well as a sly smirk. He knows how mad Y/N would get if he were to disobey her, especially a few minutes after she scolded him. Since Y/N was only a few feet away, Eren aggresively sticks his middle finger up to the man. It’s not like Myra could see through the blanket anyway.

“Are you gonna finish your ghost story, Jean?” Annie asked, although she didn’t believe a word. She just wants to see him make a fool out of himself.

Jeans eyes light up, snapping his fingers together as he sits upstraight again, ready to go into full detail once again. “Right! Okay, okay, so right when I went to shave my beard...”

Eren let’s Jean’s apparent ghost encounter story fade in the background, focusing on the shallow breaths coming from his daughter. He felt himself getting a little drowsy himself, as if her sleepiness was seeping into him.

He doesn’t waste time lifting the blanket a bit to wrap a protective arm around her small figure under it, adjusting his posture on the sofa and crossing his ankles over one another. His let his neck sink into the back of the couch, letting his head go as well so he facing the ceiling. With the warmth of the blanket and the little girl under it, he couldn’t help but close his drowsy eyes as well, finally giving in.

A few minutes pass and Jean is done telling his story, but of course, no one believes him. All except Historia. “Thank you, Historia! See I’m telling the truth. Morons.” Jean rolls his eyes at the way Armin and Sasha curl up as they laughed, Mikasa and Annie trying their best to hold in theirs.

Jean soon notices the person who would’ve regurlarly had the most to say was being awfully quiet. Getting ready to scold him for not listening, Jean is met with a site he has to admit, is the cutest thing he’s seen all year.

Eren was deep in slumber, soft snores coming from him and the little girl that rested as peacefully as he did on top of him. The print of his arm around her could be seen through the green blanket, as well as both of their steady breaths. They looked so comfortable, it would be a pain for them to get up soon, which they would have to eventually.

“Awww, they’re adorable!!” Historia exclaims from the other side of the room, which seemed to catch Y/N’s attention all the way from the kitchen.

“What’s happening? Is something cute happening? Someone take pictures!” She exclaimed, wanting to abandon the plates and take them herself, but thinks that would be rather rude to leave poor connie alone.

“On it!” Sasha and Jean say in unison. Both are quick to pull out their phones, Jean getting the more unappealing angles, while Sasha actually put some effort into it and snapped a few photos.

These were being sent to every single person on her contact list.

this was written at like 2 am sorry if there are typos i swear i reread 💔

also i’m currently working on a mob fic idk if ppl still like those but i most definitely do so watch out for that one :p

hope y’all liked this one lol

-aysha <3

[viking-raider]

Cover Me in Sunshine - One Shot

Summary: You meet Henry's little brother and his family, making a connection with someone unexpected.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 1,586

Rating: G - Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Cotton Candy Goodness, Song Fic

Inspiration: P!nk's song with her daughter Willow, Cover Me In Sunshine.

Author's Note: I heard this song last night and muse came up with this. Cred to @firefly-graphics for the divider!

“Charlie, Heather, this is my girlfriend.” Henry grinned as he introduced you to his little brother and his wife.

“It's a pleasure to meet you.” Charlie grinned, throwing out an arm and giving you a hug.

“Sames.” You smiled back and returned his hug. “Hey.” You nodded, as Charlie and Heather introduced you to their kids.

The kids nodded and mumbled their hellos to you, then vanished to various corners of the house, while you, Henry, Charlie and Heather went into the kitchen. Heather pulled out wine glasses and Charlie grabbed a bottle of chilled Stella Rosa wine from the fridge.

“Is mum and pops coming over?” Henry asked, standing at the island, sipping his glass and resting his hand on your lower back.

“Yeah, mum said they'd be here in twenty.” Charlie nodded, taking a deep gulp of his own glass.

“Cool.” Henry nodded back, turning his head, his nose brushing the hair above your ear.

The doorbell rang several minutes later and Henry's parents joined the party of adults. You excused yourself at some point to go to the bathroom and were coming back out, when the sound of a guitar caught your attention. Biting your lip, you looked back towards the laughter and voices of Henry and the others, but decided to follow the sound of the instrument instead, finding Charlie and Heather's oldest daughter, Maddie, in the den, sitting cross legged on the carpet, strumming a guitar.

“Wow, you're pretty good.” You commented, when she paused for a moment “Oh, sorry.” You chuckled, when you startled her. “Where'd you learn to play?” You asked, stepping further into the room and sitting down beside her.

“My dad taught me.” She replied, chewing on her lip as she regarded you shyly.

“My dad taught me how to play too.” You smiled at her, sweetly.

“You know how to play too?” She asked, surprised.

“I do.” You nodded.

Maddie put her guitar down and rushed out of the room, coming back a moment later with another guitar. “You want to play with me?” She asked, excitedly holding the guitar out to you.

You smiled a little bit wider at her. “Sure.” You nodded and took the instrument from her, situating it in your lap. “Do you have any songs you like?” You asked her.

“I do have a song that I wrote?” Maddie admitted, shyly brushing her hair behind her ear.

“Oh yeah?” You grinned, lifting a brow at her. “You want to teach it to me?” You asked, turning to face her.

“You actually want me to teach it to you?” Maddie asked, caught off guard by your request.

“A Hundred percent.” You nodded, positioning your fingers on the guitar strings and patiently waited for her to start giving you instructions.

Maddie's shock instantly melted away into a bright excitement and she started showing you what strings to pluck and play and in no time, the pair of you were playing the song together and falling more and more in sync the more you played it.

“Can I show you something?” Maddie asked after one last play through of the song.

“Of course.” You nodded at her, resting your arms on your guitar.

Maddie set her guitar down and raced out of the room at full speed, you could hear her feet pounding up the stairs to the second floor and Heather yell out from the kitchen for her to slow down, but she didn't, and she came thundering back into the room with you, plopping down on carpet beside you, spreading out a crumpled piece of paper with several lines written in blue ball-point pen, with the title 'Cover Me in Sunshine' scribbled at the top in black sharpie.

“You wrote a song.” You identified it instantly.

“Yeah.” She nodded, vigorously. “I've never shown it to anyone else before though.”

“Have you ever sang it before?” You asked, reading through the lyrics.

“No.” She replied, becoming shy again. “I-..” She bit her lip and sighed. “I don't think I can sing that well.”

“Hm.” You pressed your lips together. “What can I do to help?” You asked, tilting your head at her.

“I know you're a really good singer.” She said, making you blush.

Maddie wasn't wrong, you had made your living as a recording artist, a successful and famous one at that, so it didn't surprise you that Maddie knew that you could sing.

“Could you sing it?” She asked.

“How about this.” You said, licking your lips. “Do you have a pencil?” You asked her.

“Yeah.” She nodded, getting up and crossing the room to grab it and came back, handing it to you.

“I'll sing these parts.” You drew a bracket around a set of lyrics. “We'll duet these together.” You underlined the lyrics you and Maddie would sing together. “And you can sing this last part.” You circled the last set of lyrics for her to sing on her own.

“How's that sound?” You asked, giving her an encouraging look and smile.

“Okay.” Maddie nodded, still shy and apprehensive, but willing to try, since you were.

“Good.” You nodded and the two of you picked up your guitars and started working on it.

“Hey, where did y/n go?” Heather asked, just realizing you hadn't come back from the bathroom.

Everyone stopped, frowning at each other, just then realizing the same. It had almost been an hour since you had excused yourself to go to the bathroom. Henry set his glass down and stepped out of the kitchen and went out to the hallway bathroom, the others following behind him, to make sure you were all right, when they all heard the sound of guitar music and singing coming from the den. They all looked at each other, confused, and followed it, stopping in the doorway of the den, finding you and Maddie sitting on the floor together, grinning and giggling, just having a blast together as you jammed out and played the song together, over and over.

You: I've been dreaming, friendly faces I've got so much time to kill Just imagine people laughing I know some day we will And even if it's far away Get me through another day.

You and Maddie: Cover me in sunshine Shower me with good times Tell me that the world's been spinning since the beginning And everything'll be alright Cover me in sunshine!

Maddie: Cover me in sunshine Shower me with good times Tell me that the world's been spinning since the beginning And everything'll be alright Cover me in sunshine!

You and Maddie were startled after finishing the song by their sudden and involuntary clapping, they were just so caught up in the moment and how amazingly beautiful the song was and how well the two of you played together, they were clapping before they knew it. Both of you blushed and became shy as the group funneled into the room with the two of you.

“That was amazing!” Everyone of them said, crowding around.

“Have you been sitting in here with her the whole time, just playing guitar and singing?” Henry asked, squatting down beside you, while the others clamored over Maddie, a huge smile on his face as his eyes sparkled with love.

“Yeah.” You chuckled, smiling. “I was coming back from the bathroom to join you guys again, when I heard her playing and came to check it out. One thing led to another and she taught me a song she composed, then a song she wrote and, well, you heard that by-product.” You said, motioning between you and Maddie.

“You wrote all that, Maddie?” Charlie asked, surprised by his daughter.

“Yeah.” She nodded, rubbing her arm.

“That's amazing.”

“It is.” You nodded, smiling at her. “She's got a lot of talent.” You complimented her.

You were impressed by Maddie, she had a natural talent.

“You think so?” Maddie asked, coming to life again.

“Completely.” You assured her, honestly.

Henry couldn't keep his eyes off of you, even after you joined him on the couch in the living room with the other adults, grinning like the love crazed man he was. The pair of you had been dating for several months and this was the first actual meeting you had with his family, he was positive you would hit off with his brother, sister-in-law and parents, but the connection you made with his niece had come out of nowhere and he was pleasantly surprised by it. The sound of you playing and singing with Maddie kept replaying over and over in Henry's head and it only elated him more.

“Are you okay?” You asked as you got into the car with him.

“Yeah, I'm great. Why?”

“Because, I'm worried your face is going to get stuck like that.” You chuckled, grinning at him.

“It just might, and I'm all right with that.” Henry replied, resting back in the driver's seat. “I've never had a girlfriend make such a connection with my family before.” He confessed to you, reaching out to rest his hand on your knee, gently squeezing it.

“Guess, I covered you in sunshine then.”

“More than you know.” He smiled, leaning over to kiss you.

[chrisevansjellybeans]

Mine

A/N: Okay this is round two of trying to post this because last time it didn’t show up in the tags. 

Summary: Basically just some p!rn with plot. 

“You do know Chris is here.” Your friend nudged your shoulder as the two of you waited for your drinks at the bar. You rolled your eyes but nodded. It was hard not to notice when Chris was around. 

“I don’t care.” 

Lie. 

“So you don’t care that he’s here and there’s another girl on his lap?” You followed her gaze and felt your stomach drop as you noticed the beautiful redhead that had her arms draped around Chris as she giggled at whatever he said. 

“Nope.” 

Another lie. 

But what were you supposed to do? You and Chris weren’t official or even exclusive. It had started as strictly friends with benefits, leaning more towards the benefits than the friends aspect. Basically you guys were one step up from a booty call for each other. And that had worked for a while, but over the last year you guys slowly started adding more friendship to your relationship. Movie nights, lunch and coffee dates...hell, Chris had even met your dad a couple times. But again neither of you would put any sort of label on it; even if you desperately wanted to now. 

“I know you’re lying, but I’m going to let you believe that for right now.” Your friend grabbed the drinks from the bar and handed you your drink. Immediately you downed the whole thing. 

“Oh yeah, you’re totally fine.” She laughed as you guys made your way to the dance floor. 

Chris, the girl and the rest of their group was no less than 10 feet away from you as you and Y/F/N started to dance. The alcohol flowing freely through your bloodstream as you let it take over and you became more free in your movements. 

“Hey beautiful,” You smiled as you felt hands wrap around your waist. You started grinding against the stranger, your hands falling on top of theirs. You turned around and were surprised at how beautiful the guy was. He had dark skin and dark piercing eyes. His hands pulled you closer to him as you continued to grind against his pelvis. With your arms wrapped around his neck, you pulled him into a deep kiss, hoping that this would get the other beautiful man in this bar off your mind. 

Just as you were truly getting into it you heard Y/F/N gasp before the stranger was pulled away from you. 

Chris stood in front of you, his chest heaving as he pushed your dance partner away from the two of you. Your eyes narrowed as Chris muttered something to the guy, who immediately backed off. You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. As the guy slowly disappeared more into the crowd you noticed Chris’s shoulders relax. 

“You have a lot of fucking nerve, Evans.” You hissed as you pushed past him and made your way to the exit, towing Y/F/N behind you. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa there princess. Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Chris grabbed your other hand. 

“I’m gonna go call a car, I’ll be out front.” Y/F/N squeezed your hand before leaving the bar. 

“I’m not arguing with you in a bar.” You pulled your hand out of Chris’s. 

“Fine, then we can argue at your place.” Chris grabbed your hand again and led you out of the bar. 

You found Y/F/N standing outside and once again you got away from Chris and went to her. 

“He wants to talk at my place.” You whispered, glancing behind you as Chris stood there waiting with his hands in his pockets. “But you are obviously more important than him, and we were going to have a sleepover. So I’m just gonna tell him to fuck off and then we’ll go, okay?” 

“I already called a car to go back to my place.” Y/F/N gently set her hand on your arm. “Figure it out, Y/N. You guys have been going around in circles for too long. I’ll come by to get my stuff tomorrow and you can tell me all about it over mimosas and belgian waffles.” 

You pulled her into a tight hug and whispered a thank you in her ear before she got into her Uber. When she pulled away from the curb, Chris came up next to you. You hated that your body reacted whenever he was around. Chris smirked as he took notice of your perked nipples. 

“It’s cold, asshole.” You lightly pushed him away from you and then wrapped your arms around yourself. 

“Sure.” Chris chuckled. Before you could deny, Chris shrugged off his jacket and slid it around your shoulders. “Can we leave now?” 

You nodded as you slipped your arms into the sleeves. You guys decided to walk, seeing that your apartment was only five minutes down the street. 

The walk was quiet, the tension palpable. You were still angry and annoyed but at the same time your heart couldn’t help but do backflips at the thought of you being the one with Chris and not that redhead. 

Chris’s hand reached for yours and he thread your fingers together as you approached a group of bar goers. You kept telling yourself that it was because he didn’t want to lose you in the crowd but for the rest of the walk your hand was encased in his much larger one. 

Kicking off your heels as you stepped inside your apartment you let out a sigh of relief. Heels were cute and you loved them for the first half of the night but the second half, you were ready to throw your pumps out the window. 

“Do you want anything?” You asked, getting yourself a glass of water. 

“No.” Chris ran his fingers through his hair as his eyes followed your movements. You didn’t listen though and still grabbed him a glass and filled it with the Brita. He smiled to himself. Amazed at your natural caring instinct, even when you were pissed. 

You nodded towards the living room and set the waters on your coffee table as you sat down on the couch. You tucked your feet underneath you but regretted it instantly seeing as your feet were still sore. 

Without thinking, Chris pulled your feet into his lap and started massaging them. You let out a moan as he worked out the pain, your head falling back and your eyes closed. 

“Wanna tell me why you had an attitude at the bar?” Chris’s voice sounded strained as he took in your blissed out appearance. 

You shot one eye open and raised an eyebrow. “Are you joking? You completely cock blocked me, you dick.” 

“I was doing you a favor.” 

“Oh really?” You sat up again, regretfully pulling your feet away from him. “Because it seemed like you were just trying to make sure I didn’t get laid while you had little miss Pippi Longstockings up in your lap the whole night.” 

Chris snorted out a laugh. “That’s besides the point.” 

“No the fuck it is not. You’re such a misogynistic pig, Chris. So you can screw anything with legs but the second I want to get laid from someone that isn’t you, it’s a problem? Fuck you.” 

“Watch your tone with me, princess.” Chris’s nostrils flared. “That’s not what I said.” 

“Isn’t it though. You get to have that beautiful woman all over you and I don’t say a word. But then I do the same thing and suddenly it’s a problem? Survey says misogyny, babe.” 

Chris grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards him. Your heart and your core throbbed at the action as he leaned over you, one hand resting by your head and the other gripping your waist. 

“That girl meant nothing to me. She wouldn’t leave me alone, I was being polite. I didn’t have my tongue down her throat like some slut.” 

You winced at his words. You pushed against his chest, but he didn’t budge. 

“Fuck you, Chris. I hate you.” 

“No you don’t, princess.” Chris leaned down, his mouth attaching to your throat. “You hate me about as much as I hate you.” 

You arched your back as Chris kissed that spot that made you lose all inhibitions. Your hands moved from his chest to rest on his back as you tried to grind your hips against his. 

“If you went home with that guy,” You could hear the anger in Chris’s voice as he spoke. “He wouldn’t know all the spots that drive you wild. How doing this,” Chris’s hand that was on your waist slipped under your dress and landed on your black lace panties. One finger dipped into your embarrassingly already wet core, slowly pumping in and out. “Isn’t enough to satisfy you.” 

Chris’s mouth trailed from your neck, down your chest where he placed kisses across your heaving chest and then down your stomach before ending right above your pussy. With his free hand he pushed your dress up, kissing the newly exposed skin. 

“He wouldn’t know that my baby is a dirty girl. That she likes both of her holes played with.” 

You moaned as Chris rotated his hand and slowly added a finger to your ass. His lips devoured your thighs as he finally made his way to where you needed him most. 

“Oh my god,” You fisted your hands in his hair as his tongue licked a stripe up your core, his fingers never faltering. With his free hand he pushed down against your lower abdomen, creating more pressure and causing you to feel your orgasm sooner. 

Chris’s fingers picked up pace as he paid special attention to your bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck, babygirl. You always taste so fucking good.” Chris looked up at you from his position and you. “I want you to cum all over my fingers, princess. Can you do that for me?” Chris continued his ministrations as he moved up your body, his free hand slipping under your neck pulling you closer to him. 

“Can you cum for daddy?” Chris pressed his lips against yours. You moaned against his mouth as you tasted yourself against his tongue. It was enough to cause your orgasm to rip through your body. 

“Fuck!” You pulled away from him, your mouth agape and your eyes never leaving his. Chris’s eyes darkened as he kissed you again. You swallowed his groan as your pussy clenched around his fingers. 

Your body went limp as Chris slowly pulled his fingers out of you. Taking the fingers that were covered in you he brought them to your lips. “Open up.” 

Without hesitation you opened your mouth, keeping your eyes on him the whole time, as you closed your mouth around his wet fingers. You moaned as you ran your tongue around them. You could already feel yourself becoming wet again. Chris bit his lip as he watched you in adoration, sucking yourself off of his fingers. You pulled out his fingers with a pop and licked your lips looking up at him with that look. The look that would bring Chris to his knees a thousand times over. 

Chris gripped your hips and moved so he was sitting and you were straddling his thighs. He felt his dick twitch taking in the sight of you. Your cheeks flushed, your dress in disarray and your lace excuse of underwear, pushed to the side. You looked so hot and it was all his doing. You ground your pussy against his clothed member, taking his mouth with yours. 

“Please fuck me,” you whimpered in his ear. “Fuck me how you know I like it.” 

You didn’t have to tell him twice. Chris wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up, carrying you to the bedroom. 

He threw you down on the bed, wasting no time taking off his tight white t-shirt. The both of you maintained eye contact as you each took off the remainder of the clothing you had on. You crawled over to him, taking him in your hand. You were about to go in when he pushed your head away. You pouted and Chris captured your bottom lip between his teeth. 

“I’m kicking myself saying this, but not tonight. I want tonight to be about you, baby.” 

“But I want to.” 

“No.” Chris gave you a chaste kiss and then flipped you around gripping your hips. You fell onto your forearms as Chris slowly pushed himself inside of you. You clenched around his member as he pushed his thumb against your ass. 

“You’re always so goddamn tight. Fucking gripping my cock, baby.” Chris moaned as he pushed himself into the hilt. 

Chris stayed there for a moment, not moving. You started to whine and shake your hips as you just wanted him to move. Chris responded with a slap on your ass, causing you to moan out. 

“Be patient, honey.” Chris’s hands splayed over your ass as he started to pick up his pace. You tried to move your body in rhythm with his but it soon became impossible as his pace only continued to quicken and you were still shaky from your last orgasm. Chris moaned as he reached in front of you and brought you up to his chest. One hand landed on your breast and the other wrapped securely around your throat. 

“Fuck, baby.” Chris’s guttural moan went through your body like an electric shock as he flexed his hand that was against your throat. You moaned as you leaned back into his hard chest, your arm wrapping around his neck, as he pounded into you from behind. He moved his other hand to your aching center, his fingers moving over your clit. 

“Cum all over my cock, baby.” Chris growled. “I wanna feel that pussy cum.” 

Chris knew exactly what he was doing and exactly what to say to get a reaction out of you. Turning your head you met his lips in a heated kiss of tongue and teeth. Neither of you trying to be delicate. 

Before you could process it, Chris had you on your back and was now railing into you in missionary. He slowed down his thrusts and you felt yourself getting more wet as you watched Chris’s eyes follow his member going in and out of you. Smirking to himself, Chris let a drop of spit fall from his mouth and land on your core, where he rubbed it against your clit with his thumb. Your back arched off the bed as the pleasure became overwhelming. 

“This is mine,” Chris muttered as he started picking up the pace again. He leaned down, his broad shoulders covering yours as he slammed into you. His hands wound in your hair as he pulled your faces together. “Understand, princess? All mine.” 

You nodded but that wasn’t enough for Chris. His fingers tightened in your hair as he pushed his mouth against yours in a bruising fashion. 

“Fucking say it.” 

“It’s yours!” You cried out as your orgasm approached. “Oh fuck, Chris!” 

“Come on, baby.” He brought his body up again, this time bringing your right leg over his shoulder. The angle is the final straw to bring your orgasm home. You both moaned as your pussy milked his cock, Chris’s pace never letting up. “My good girl, cumming on my cock.” 

“I want you to cum, daddy.” you whined. Your fingers wrapped around his bicep as he chased his release. 

“I’m almost there, princess.” Chris let out between gritted teeth. A few moments later Chris let out a feral groan as his hips stuttered, his cock pulsating inside you. You bit your lip as your stomach fluttered watching Chris come undone. 

Pulling out of you slowly, Chris leaned down brushing kisses across your chest and neck. You shuttered as the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through your body. You let out a shriek as Chris pushed his cum that was seeping out back into you with his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours. He pulled you close for a possessive kiss that you eagerly returned. Pulling away, Chris got up and left the room before coming back with the glasses of water you had left in the living room. Setting them down, he crawled back in bed but this time took you in his arms. You sighed with content as you rested your head on his chest, your fingers playing with the small tufts of hair there. 

“I don’t want you seeing other people.” Chris said after a couple moments of silence. Your fingers froze as did your heartbeat it seemed like. You moved so you could look up at him. He ran his fingers through your hair and leaned in and gave you a simple but powerful kiss. “Just you and me from now on, got it?” 

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” You smiled as you laid back down on his chest. You fell asleep like that, your hand on his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around you. Just where they were supposed to be. 

[fictionalmenmakemecry]

We Have History Together

Requested

Characters: Stefan x Reader

Summary: Stefan and reader have a project that due but get distracted in the process ;)

Includes: Smut , swearing

I always been interested in history, it's always been one of my favorite classes. Since the beginning of the school year, I've been struggling to keep my mind in check when it comes to wandering thoughts. Saying that, these thoughts might have something to do with the new person in our class. Stefan Salvatore. He's been getting the normal amount of attention when it comes to any new victim of this school. He seem to keep to himself mostly. Over the last couple of weeks, it's been particularly harder to keep focused as we have been put into groups for class project and you guessed it, Stefan and I were put together.

At the start of the project, things were kinda awkward because I knew nothing about him. But we slowly start to get comfortable with each other as every history class was us working on our project. It being a big percentage of our final grade, I wanted to ace this. As the weeks went on, he would do little things that I never expected, like bring me my favorite snack when he knew I was going to be late for class and forgot to bring lunch. He would bring me his favorite history books that he thought I would enjoy. We really did start becoming close friends. But I knew I had other feelings that I wanted to ignore. The more time we spent together the more I started to notice how good he smelt, especially when he leant across to grab something on the other side of the desk. I would be listening to him and suddenly get lost in his green eyes and how his lips looked so sof-

"You okay?" He asked looking into my eyes.

"Uh-h yeah, sorry, in my own world there." I chuckled feeling my face get warmer wondering if he was on to me.

"I just didn't get enough sleep last night" I lied.

He glanced down at this book and smiled "Okay, well for the conclusion I think-"

"Sorry guys, just to let you know the library will be closing in 15 minutes, we close early on Sundays" The old grey haired librarian spoke softly as she walked past our desk.

"Oh shit, yeah I forgot" I said looking down at my phone

"Well, if you want, we can go back to my place and finish the last few things. I don't think it should take too long" He offered as he closed his laptop and packed his things away.

My heart sped up when he mentioned his place, what the hell is wrong with me. I needed to get ahold of myself if I'm going back to his place. I cleared my throat not wanting my excitement to show through.

"Totally, that sounds good" I nodded

We both got into our own cars and I followed him until we got to his place. I wasn't expecting much but his house was this gigantic Tudor mansion. I couldn't believe my eyes. I felt my hands getting sweatier as we got closer. I got out of my car, still looking around in amazement trying to figure out how rich he was.

We never really talked about life outside school. So I really didn't know much about his life.

"Holy shit" I said quietly to myself but he manage to hear making his way towards me as he chuckled to himself.

"It's not what you think. I'm not rich" He said still smiling at me

"Then wha-" I gestured at the grand building in front of me

"It's a long story" He interrupted me

As we walked towards the house, I could sense him getting fidgety beside me which is so different compared to his calm confident self.

"Before we go in, I'm just warning you that I have a brother, Damon. He can be forward and how can I put this... an ass." He said bluntly.

"Try and ignore him, he's been really pissing me off lately" Stefan walked ahead of me putting his hand on the handle of the door.

I didn't say anything because I didn't what to say or think. He can't be that bad. But I never seen Stefan like this so maybe he is. This was definitely not settling my nerves.

He opened the door and this hallways just lead to this huge room with an unimaginable sized fireplace. I couldn't stop myself from looking around.

"Make yourself comfortable, do you want anything to drink or eat?" Stefan said as he walked toward a door that I presumed lead to the kitchen.

"I wouldn't mind some water" I felt my mouth becoming dryer as the seconds went by.

Stefan disappeared into the next room and I walked around the room trying to get a grasp of the place.

"Well, hello there" a smooth voice came from the balcony which I didn't even realize was there a moment ago.

I whipped around to see, a man who was older than Stefan and must have been Damon.

"Uh- Hi" I raised my hand to wave and felt startled from his presence.

He walked down the stairs towards me with this confidence that was completely different to Stefan. As he got closer I felt he icy blue eyes look me over and I felt uneasy.

"I didn't know we were having guests" Damon smirked

"Yeah, just coming over to finish off history p-project" I stuttered.

I started getting more nervous wondering where the hell Stefan was. Where the hell was he getting this water from, Niagara falls?

Damon walked closer to me. Closer than stranger should be. He seemed completely at ease and mostly enjoying this.

"You have really beautiful eyes" Damon looked into them and I felt his stare getting deeper and deeper.

"I really hope Damon is not being a pain in the ass" Stefan appeared with sandwich and water

Damon rolled his eyes and took a step back making his way over to a side table with a assortment of liquors.

"I was just introducing myself" He said giving me a little smile before pouring himself a glass of brown color rink.

I could see Stefan sighing and shaking his head as he made his way up the stairs.

"Come on Y/N, let's go and finish off the project"

I made my way across the room and followed Stefan, feeling Damon's eyes on me the whole time until we were out of sight. I closed the door behind me as we got to Stefan's room. His room matched the rest of the aesthetic of the house. He made space for the sandwich and water on his desk which was covered in books.

"I noticed you didn't eat much today, so I made you peanut butter and jelly sandwich." he said trying to make room for chairs so we both could sit at his desk.

"Um, thank you. that's really kind" I smiled sitting beside him.

I wasn't hungry at all. My stomach was all over the place knowing that we were in a room together, alone. I kept rubbing my hands along my jeans trying to stop them from being clammy. He was different, he was irritated by something. I didn't want to pry but I was worried that he was regretting inviting me over.

"Is everything okay?" I asked quietly afraid to hear what I didn't want to hear.

He looked down and looked back up at me again.

"My brother pissed me off. He always like that around women and I'm sick of it. He just treats women like objects and- I'm sorry. You don't need to hear this." He sighs.

"It's okay, so he's kind of a ladies man?" I asked

"I wouldn't saying using women whenever he wants something a ladies m- that's not the point. The point is that you're a genuine good person Y/N" He looks at me and keeps eye contact lingering to the point I have to look away because I feel myself blushing.

"If he got his chance, he would..." Stefan looked around like he was trying to think of a word "taint you". landing his eyes back on me when saying that.

At this point, I'm pretty sure my heart beat was banging in my ears and I know my cheeks were permanently red. He must know how I felt about him, My body was letting me down right now and letting him know exactly how I felt about him, I couldn't hide it anymore.

He got up from the chair and walked around with his hands behind is head like he was trying to calm himself down. I was starting to worry because I never seen him so annoyed before. I got up from the chair and took a step toward him.

"Is there anything I can do to try and get your mind off of this?" I asked while picking at my fingers.

He turned around and looked directly at me across the room.

"Do you like me Y/N?" Stefan asked his face completely serious.

I think in that moment my heart skipped a beat. My mouth opened and in my mind I screamed yes but no noise came out. I looked down and back up, he was still looking at me. I could tell he was trying to read me.

"Yes I do" I nodded knowing that my voice might not be heard from speaking so quietly.

I could hear him release his breath, I looked down, all of a sudden too shy to look him in the eyes. I could hear him slowly walking towards me. I felt him get close to me, closer than friends should get. I felt his hand at the bottom of my chin and bring my face up to his. His lips were just about to touch mine. All my senses were overwhelmed. I could smell his cologne, feel his body heat, feel his hot breath against my lips. I looked up into his eyes not realizing how green they actually were.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispered

I couldn't make any sound, I nodded ever so slightly. I felt him lean in and his lips pressed against mine. I felt his thumb brush against my jaw. I felt my knees wanting to buckle under me. So I wrapped my arms around his neck feeling his other hand on my side. He was so gentle, like he was scared of actually breaking me. I leaned more into him wanting him to know I wanted more. I felt his tongue brushing along my lips and I wanted to taste him. I wanted to feel his tongue against mine. I starting getting lost in the kissing and without realizing I was up against the wall. I felt his body push up against mine. His body felt so strong but gentle at the same time. I ran my hand up the back of his head and down his neck on his shoulders, feeling the muscles underneath the shirt. He pulled away, making me realize that we were both out of breath.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that" He said while glancing down at my lips.

"I know the feeling" I smiled.

"When I'm with you, it's hard for me to keep control. The way Damon looked at you today, made me lose any control I had left" Stefan leaned in putting his hand up against the wall beside me.

I looked into his eyes knowing what I wanted from him. I felt this hungry inside me that I hadn't felt in months.

"Stefan, I don't think I want you to have control around me" I put my hands on his chest and bit my lip

I could see him looking deep into my eyes making sure what I said was actually what I wanted.

"What do you want from me ?" Stefan looked down on my lips knowing what I wanted but wanting to hear it,

"I want you to fuck me" I looked down at his lips and whispered.

Stefan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them again and leaned in, kissing me. It was different this time. He had the same hunger I had now. I leaned into him and I felt him reach down to my thighs and lifted me up with ease, I automatically wrapped my legs around his waist. He walked over the bed and laid me down gently. I felt his hands on my waist and brushing them over my body and got my arms and put them over my head. He climbed on the bed and starting kissing my neck and I felt something sharp on my neck for a split second but then it disappeared. I reached down and pulled off his shirt and admired his toned body underneath.

"Fuck, you're hot" I whispered to myself feeling myself getting wetter by the second.

He looked up at me "Nothing compared to you baby" He smirked

As he unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down, I pulled off my top and tossed it aside somewhere. I felt our chests press up against each other and the warmth they shared. I felt him getting harder as he kissed my body more. I couldn't resist anymore, I unbuttoned his jeans and pulled everything down, releasing his hardening cock for me.

"You don't know how much I need you right now " He moaned as I gripped his cock and pumped him

"I want to feel you inside me " I said as I kissed his neck

He slid down my body spreading my legs as he went.

"I want you to taste me, but right now I can't wait any longer. Please fuck me" I begged

He looked at me and kiss my folds before getting up and leaning over to nightstand taking out a foil packaged.

He rolled on the condom and climbed on top of me. His hand disappeared between us as his fingers slowly went in me and start to pull out and push in.

"You're so wet for me" He whispered taking his hand away and sucking on his fingers "Mmmm.. taste so good too baby"

I moaned knowing it was going to feel so good when it enters me.

He positioned himself until he was at my entrance and slowly thrusted forward feeling myself open up to him. He kissed me and nuzzled himself in my neck moaning as he felt my walls grip onto him.

"You feel so good, fuck." He moans as he stays in place as we both take the feeling.

He started thrusting in and out as we both started getting used to each other. He started kissing my sensitive nipples which made me melt into the bed.

"I need you to fuck me harder" I said while feeling his body over me

"You want me to fuck you harder?" He teased while slowing down

"Please" I pleaded knowing that would make my cum hard

"My pleasure" He moved with faster and rougher force.

We fucked feeling both of our climaxes climbing. I wasn't able to hold back and he could tell.

"I'm not going to be able to hold off much longer, are you close?" He moaned feeling him starting to lose rhythm.

"Nearly baby" I said out of breath

He changed position as he put my legs on his shoulders and starting thrusting hard and fast.

"Baby,I can't- fuck, I going to cum"

"Me too" I moaned feeling my walls milk him

We both came, as he got his release he fell forward hovering over me catching his breath and kissing me gently.

"You're incredible" He whispered in my ear and looking at me brushing my hair out of my face

"Ditto" I smiled kissing him gently.

We both cuddled for the next couple of hours and talked, taking in the intimate moment we had.

We spent an all nighter finishing the history project and trying not to distract each other.

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus Part 8

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him…

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue Chapter 1   Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

“From today, you shall have your own rooms.”

“But why?” Remus wails “it’s not fair!” Remus looks up at him, his small faced scrunched and red, tears threatening to fall, “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“I-“ Roman frowns. He feels too big. Shouldn’t he be the same size as Remus?

“You’re the future king, Remus” their father rumbles, “Your training needs to begin - without distractions.”

“Don’t cry.” Their mother tells him as Remus’ tantrum echoes through the room. She runs a cool hand over Roman’s forehead soothingly.

“I wasn’t.” Roman murmurs.

His mother’s hand turns cruel, pushing his head back, another hand gripping his chin.

“You need to drink, c’mon Roman drink this down for me, please?”

Roman chokes, twisting away. Hot liquid scalds his throat and drips down his chin. There’s a hand in his hair again, stroking gently until it grips tight, forcing his head back “He doesn’t look much like the Prince.” Marcus grunts.

“The mad Prince – Remus of Notaleveale!”

“But.” Roman whimpers, “that’s not-“

“Is he awake?”

“Your father is sick.” Julius tells him. The practice room is high in the north tower, always just too cool to be comfortable, but Roman feels hot. For some reason, water is rushing down the walls. Droplets splash onto his skin and sizzle where they land.

“We’re going to find a way to fix this my Prince, I promise.” Julius smiles at him, his eyes kind and unlined by age.

“What if you can’t.” Romulus whispers, voice breaking. He is the right size now he thinks. He had to tilt his head to look up at Julius who hesitantly pulls him close, letting the boy muffle his dry sobs on his shoulder.

“Then…we will find a way to help you live with it – and I’ll always be here to help you.”

He pulls back to smile at him again, but it’s not kind anymore. The skin flaking away reveals the rictus grin of the skull beneath, and Roman howls, trying to twist away whilst large hands hold him down -

“It’s okay! Roman, it’s okay!”

- he feels something cool on his eyelids, a strong scent of mint mingling with the rot of Julius body-

“Sleep.” a voice murmurs.

When Roman wakes, it’s somewhere he doesn’t recognise. Scratchy sheets pin him down to a bed as effectively as chains. A pale man with violet eyes is pulling at his arm, his arm which hurts. Roman whines, trying to tug the limb out of the pale man’s grip, but his body feels too heavy to obey.

The pale man is trying to talk to him but nothing he says makes sense to Romulus, it’s like listening to a foreign language.

“<My dad’s dead.>” he tells the pale man, because that seems important.

“Roman? Are you awake?”

There’s a hand on his forehead, the voice is saying something about water but Roman ignores it, trying to chase the thought.

If their father was dead, then why was he still Prince Remus?

The next time Roman woke up it was dark. The pale man had disappeared, but there was another figure lying in the bed next to him. The man’s bulk caused the mattress to dip towards him and his snores were so loud they made the whole bedframe vibrate with each exhale.

Turning his head carefully, Roman found himself looking at a face full of scars and freckles. A pale shaft of moonlight from the open window illuminated the man’s ripped ear and a nose that had obviously been broken at some point in the past. Even in sleep, he looked fearsome.

‘Patton’ Roman’s tired mind supplied, and he felt a relieved smile twitch over his face. It pulled at the cut Niki left him, making him bite back a whimper of pain.

He let his head fall back against the pillow. Everything felt heavy, even the air. The room seemed to melt at the edges. But if Patton was sleeping then they must be somewhere safe.

He dozed for a time, listening to the comforting rumble of Patton’s snores, until a withered pair of hands reached for him. The lady of the house began to gently wipe the sweat from his face with a cool cloth.

“<Am I dying>?” he asked her in their own language.

“<You can try.>” She told him dryly, “<Those three will probably end up chasing you down to the underworld too.>”

The lady brought some extra cushions and stacked them behind him, helping him to sit up. From his new vantage point he could see Logan on the floor, one giant book open on his lap and three more stacked beside him. He looked like he had fallen asleep mid study session, his head tilted back against the wall with a thin string of drool hanging from his open mouth.

Roman thought of the last time he had seen him, pinned to Lucius' chest, his eyes wide and frightened behind his glasses, and had to close his eyes. He breathed deeply through his nose until his panic subsided and glanced at Logan again.

He was so relieved to see him whole that might even forgo teasing him about the drool.

The lady brought him a pewter mug filled with something warm that smelt pleasantly of honey and helped him to lift it to his lips when his hands began to shake.

“<When I invited you for tea, this isn’t what I pictured.>” she teased him with a smile.

Roman didn’t smile back, eyes still roaming the room.

“<Where->“

“<Your elf is fine>” she told him, sounding amused “<I sent him on an errand. He would have worn a hole in my best rug if he stood here pacing much longer.>”

Roman did smile then, grip loosening on the mug which she deftly caught before it hit the blankets.

“<I lost my brother.>” he told her, eyes growing heavy again.

“<That was careless of you.>” she said, “<What are you going to do about it?>”

Roman didn’t answer, falling back asleep with the honey still coating his tongue.

The next time Roman woke up, daylight was streaming trough the open window and the last tendrils of fever seemed to have left him. Whilst he still felt tired, the unnatural heaviness was less and his mind was clear.

Unfortunately, his clear mind immediately occupied itself by cataloguing every single way his body was in pain.

His cheek throbbed, the small cut from Niki having been split wider by the force of the hit from Julius’s walking stick. His back and shoulders we’re equally bruised, and protested every tiny movement he made as he tried to resettle himself against the pillows. By far the worst was his hand, which felt like it was still burning.

Choking down any whimpers of pain he focused instead on the strange pressure on his chest.

Opening his eyes revealed the culprit. A grey cat with snow white paws was sitting primly on his sternum. Mittens looked deeply put out by Roman’s attempt to get comfortable and gave him an unsatisfied meow of protest when he continued to move.

“Good morning” Roman whispered, giving him a conciliatory head rub with his good hand, “Did you happen to count how many horses ran me over?”

“Roman!” The bard looked beyond Mittens to see Patton perched on the end of the bed, beaming so wide it almost distracted from the redness of his nose.

“You’re -ah-achoo – you’re awake!”

“Yeah.” He smiled, attempting to rearrange the pillows one handed. “Hey Pat’.”

“Guys!” Patton called, “Ro – achoo – Ro -acHOO – he’s awake!”

There was a thundering of footsteps on stairs and then Virgil all but exploded into the room, eyes wide “How awake is he? – does he recognise you? Patton I told you to put the damm cat outside!”

“Aww but it’s his hou -ah -ah -house,” Patton pouted.

“He recognises you.” Roman added, giving Virgil a half-hearted wave “Also his voice works.”

“Shame.” Virgil snarked but the grin on his face was too wide to hide his relief.

“You. Go bother the pigeons’” he shooed the cat as he came to sit on the edge of Romans bed. Mittens gave him a pointed meow before slinking out of the room, pausing only to rub against Logan’s ankles as it passed him in the doorway.

“How’s your head?” Virgil asked - he reached over to a small beside table and picked up a glass of water, holding it up for Roman to sip.

“Fine.” Roman whispered hoarsely, taking the water from him and drinking greedily.

“What about your hand?” Patton asked, kneeling on his other side, “I’ll ask Mama Tay to brew you some more willow tea, for the pain.”

“Great.”- Roman handed the glass back to Virgil shrank against the pillows as they both peered at him – “but I’m fine, honestly don’t worry yourselves-“

“Fine?” Virgil rolled his eyes, “You look like you went three rounds with a centaur and lost. Badly.”

“Okay, well, that’s rude.” Roman rolled his eyes right back, lifting one arm to try and bat Virgil’s hands away as they reached for him “Get off, Virge I’m fi-“

“Roman.” Logan was the only one who hadn’t come forward to paw at him. He stood in the doorway, most of his face obscured by the shadow. “Let Virgil check your injuries.”

Roman sighed, the fight going out of him. Obediently, he dropped his arms and tilted his head towards the half-elf.

“Oh sure,” Virgil murmured, running skilful fingers over the cut on Romans cheek and the surrounding swelling “you’ll listen when Logan tells you.”

“It’s the glasses,” Roman joked, his voice tired, “gives him authority.”

Once Virgil had finished his inspection of Roman’s face, he insisted at poking and prodding at every inch of him see how his other injuries were healing. Roman sighed but put up with his fussing with as much grace as he could. Virgil removed the bandages on his hand, packing fresh herbs next to the skin and rewrapping it gently with new cloth. The bruises and welts on his back and shoulders had begun to heal, turning from purple and blue to a sickly looking yellow. Virgil smeared something that smelt horrendous on the few welts that hadn’t scabbed over before stepping back, declaring the injuries extensive but, for the most part, superficial.

“Like your lyrics.” he added slyly, which got a squawk of protest from Roman and a giggle from Patton.

His hand was the most concerning. Virgil had him gently flex his fingers -causing Roman to hiss with pain despite his best efforts – before helping him into a sling and giving him strict instructions to hold it still until the herbs had done their work.

As Virgil worked, Patton kept up a running dialogue; happily filling Roman in on the day to day running’s of Mama Tay’s house. How she’d let him use her kitchen to cook for all of them and let Logan take over her small library (although the scholar was still only permitted to call her Mother Octavia). He giggled his way through a story about Mittens’ on going attempt to court the tabby cat who lived across the street – apparently he had attempted to show off by taking on street rat twice his size and spent the rest of the day sulking in the pantry after being summarily chased off.

Between Virgil’s gentle ministrations and the soothing sound of Patton’s voice, Roman found himself slowly relaxing.

Remus wasn’t in the city. His friends had come for him. They’d beaten the bad guy and got away.

He knew he couldn’t just ignore everything that had happened. His friends were eventually going to want some sort of explanation. The thing that had worn Julius face had been able to find him once – he didn’t know how, or how to stop I happening again.

Most importantly, he was no longer sure that Remus was safe.

But for a little while at least, he was with his family. He was safe. Things could start to go back to normal.

“Roman.” Logan said. He was leaning back against the closed door, a look on his face Roman couldn’t quite decipher. “Stand up.”

“Slowly,” Virgil added as Roman rose to his feet. The healer cast a glance back at Logan, confused, “what’re you-“

“Roman.” Logan cut him off. “Stand on one foot.”

Romans whole world seemed to narrow down to the glint of light reflecting off Logan’s glasses.

The rush of blood in his ears sounded very much like the rush of water in the pipe room.

Julius looked at him coldly, ready to categorise each whimper of pain as his leg began to shake, muscles cramping -

Patton’s hand suddenly griped his elbow as he wobbled, breaking the illusion.

Mama Tay’s bedroom was far more cluttered with blankets and knickknacks than Julius practice room. Logan was the one in front of him – face full of gleeful satisfaction as his theory was confirmed.

“I’m right aren’t I.” he breathed, looking dazed – “You can’t diso-“

Remove yourself from anyone who might ask you about your curse. Put as much distance between you as you can.

Roman attempted to fling himself towards the door- immediately realised that this was a bad decision as he still only had one foot on the ground – and pitched forward towards the floor, free arm pinwheeling crazily.

Patton dived to catch him, one big hand grabbing his injured shoulder casing Roman to yell out in pain, which in turn caused Patton to instinctively release him. He found himself falling again, this time crashing into Virgil, who had come running to help. His injured arm exploded in pain as he fell against the other man’s chest.

“Roman! What the hell- Logan?”

“I’m sorry!” Logan’s delight at being proved right had quickly turned into alarm “Stand properly – I mean, stand however you think you should. Um-“

“Roman are you okay?” That was Patton, gently easing him off Virgil “Oh gosh I think you’ve opened your stitches again!”

Roman groaned.

A few moments later Roman was, once again, propped up on the bed. Patton sat next to him, holding his good hand loosely whilst Virgil smeared more of the horrifying smelling salve over the reopened cut on his cheek.

Logan, hands firmly clasped in front of him like a guilty school boy, was filling them in on what he thought he knew.

“Roman cannot disobey a direct order – when Lucius Amata met us on the stairs he was able to compel him not to move.”

“Who?”

“The Marquis of Orenlla!” Logan huffed, exasperated – “The kidnapper!”

“De.” Roman muttered.

“What?”

“Marquis de Orenlla.”

“Hmm,” rather than start an argument of etymology, Logan simply pulled a square slip of card from his waistcoat pocket and started crossing something out with his quill.

“Seriously?” Virgil asked, exasperated “Flashcards?” He twisted the lid back onto the salve pot with rather more force than was necessary “Logan, you didn’t even believe in magic until yesterday and now you’re saying – what exactly are you saying?”

He glanced at Roman, almost fearfully ‘That he’s -that he’s under a spell or cursed or- what?”

“Roman,” Patton’s voice was gentle. “Is that true?”

Roman met his eyes. Patton’s face was as kind as ever. For now.

Never tell anyone about your curse.

But they’d never set rules stopping him discussing what people already knew.

Even so, he braced himself for pain before he nodded.

Patton looked like he might cry.

“So –what?” Demanded Virgil, who had started pacing back and forth down the short length of the bed. “He did that? This Lucius guy?”

“How do we stop it? Do we….kill him?”

“Patton!”

“Well I don’t know!”

“It wasn’t Lucius.” Roman muttered.

He risked a glance at Virgil who was nodding fervently, shaking both hands out in front of himself as he tried to process everything, “No. He – you had it before right? That’s how he was able to get you to go with him.”

Slowly, Roman nodded.

“Was it before we got to the city?” Logan asked. He hadn’t moved from his spot by the door, a thoughtful frown on his face as he gently rotated the flashcards in his hands.

“The forest!” Vigil yelped before Roman had a chance to respond. “When you disappeared right? I knew you were out of it that night! That’s when it happened?”

“Oh, Roman.” Patton gasped, “You poor thing. Has this has been going on for days?”

Roman couldn’t help it; he started to laugh. Drawing his knees to his chest he hunched over them, his shoulders shaking. “No.” he managed to gasp out. “No, not the forest.”

“So…when did it happen?” Patton asked uncertainty. Roman could easily picture the three of them glancing at each other, trying to put the pieces together. He kept his eyes firmly on his knees. He didn’t want to see the moment of realisation.

“Before the forest?” Virgil asked hesitantly. Roman nodded without looking up.

“When I met you…” Virgil continued after a moments silence, “you wouldn’t come back into the tavern with me – you said you didn’t want the innkeeper to tell you to play another night.”

“I remember that.” Logan said “You met us on the road. I thought that was odd at the time. I assumed you were going to lie in wait to rob us.”

Roman could hear the understanding seeping into their voices. He’d been cursed since they met him. He’d been a liability since they met him – they’d hired someone to protect them who could be ordered to throw his sword down by any foe who happened to try. They were going to feel so betrayed. They were going to be so angry with him.

How could he have not told them?

“Oh, Roman – how could we have not noticed?”

Romans head shot up. “What?” he croaked.

Now Patton really did look like he was going to cry, his eyes suspiciously watery. “You’ve been dealing with this all by yourself for – for years?”

“So- “ now Virgil was the one shaking – “So any time I’ve told you to ‘shut up’ you-“

“If you don’t give a timeframe it doesn’t matter much.” Roman blurted quickly, wanting to remove the look of horror from Virgil’s face – “I mean when I was younger it maybe would have but, but I’ve learned work around it so –“

“Younger?” his rambling did not seem to be soothing Virgil’s panic. “How young?”

“Er. Well.” He glanced between the two of them “From when I was a baby. I mean, I don’t remember not being like this.” Patton and Virgil were staring at him with identical slack jawed expressions. Roman wished the bed would swallow him up and spit him out onto he street. “But hey – I was apparently a very agreeable baby – stopped crying so soon as you asked!” he grinned awkwardly, give them a thumbs up with his undamaged hand.

They did not look reassured.

“So, have we ever –“ Patton started,”-have we ever made you do something you didn’t want to-“

“NO! No, Pat - you’re always so polite and if, if it’s not an order it doesn’t count so-“

“I’m not polite.” Virgil muttered.

“You don’t order though.” Roman said quickly, “You’re too-“ he tried to find a nice way to say ‘too riddled with anxiety to give directives’ – “awkward.” he finished sheepishly.

Virgil bristled. “I told you to get lost.” He snarled. “In the forest.”

There was a silence. Roman found himself staring at his knees again and forced his head up to meet Vigils gaze.

“Well. That was unfortunate. But it was fine – you’re both good trackers, you found me easily enough so-“

“But what if we hadn’t!?” Virgil all but yelled, “What if you’d just been lost in the woods till you starved to death or-“

“Virgil.” Patton soothed, “Calm down, he’s fine.”

“He’s not! He’s not safe with us! How many times have we done something to, to-”

“It’s fine.” Roman announced calmly, cutting Virgil off before he could work himself up any further. “You don’t have to worry anymore.”

“What doe that mean?”

“It means – I won’t travel with you anymore. You don’t have to worry about protecting me I’ll just-“

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Roman no!”

“Are you going to order me to stay?” He snapped.

That shut everyone up.

He glared at the pair of them. “Well?”

“No.” Patton said calmly “Of course not. It’s just that-”

“What happens if you disobey an order?” Logan interrupted, causing the other three to jump.

The scholar had been standing so still, gazing off into the distance whilst the argument went on around him, that Roman had almost forgotten he was there.

“I cant.” He answered eventually, trying not to feel resentful of Logan for causing this whole mess.

“But what if you try?” Logan said, “If I told you to raise your hand and you tried to keep it down – “

“It would hurt.” Roman gritted out.

“Hurt how? Can you describe it?” Logan tucked his flashcards away and pulled out a notebook, quill at the ready. Roman gaped at him.

“Logan.” Patton interrupted, “I think maybe Roman needs a break from questions right now-“

“But if we don’t know the parameters of his condition then how are we supposed to fix it?” Logan argued.

“I’ve tried. To fix it.” Roman growled out.

“But you were by yourself before.” Logan said dismissively “Now you have me, well, all of us, working on the problem. I’m sure we will be able to –“

“I wasn’t by myself.” Roman said coldly.

Logan really did remind him of Julius sometimes. They had the same stubborn determination to get the answers they were seeking. But Roman was not going to be anyone’s pet experiment again.

“I am Prince Romulus of Notaleveale.” he announced grandly, as If he was reclining on a throne instead of uncomfortable bed. “I have had the finest minds of the fae and human worlds look into my curse, I hardly think a failed apprentice and a couple of backwater deserters are going to have more success.”

He swept an imperious gaze over all three of them, amused to find they had finally been shocked into silence.

“I will be returning to my kingdom. Your services will no longer be required.”

Part 9