#he said fuck it we ball and prayed his knees would work in the morning

[zouisalmightie]

just realized that 40 year old tommy more than likely fucked that man on a mattress on the ground. no sheets on it or nothing. that’s how you know he’s down bad.

[bluecookies02]

Dabi x Reader- cûm soaked silk

Summary: You're the league's relatively new addition, during a fight Dabi saves you, immediately catching your attention and clouding your mind. Eventually after a row of success the league organizes a party and Dabi comes over so the two of you can prepare.

Warnings: cum play, creampies ,throatfucking, light alcohol consumption, pinning, panties theft.

/masterlist/

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Here you are once again waking up at 2 in the afternoon. With a quick stretch and desperate grasp for consciousness, you feel the familiar pain of a long night spent gathering supplies and fighting the trash that calls themselves heroes.

Thankfully, it was a night full of victories for the LOV so the pride you feel is stronger than the strain on your tired body. In everything you remember from last night, one moment sticks out so clear that you can't help but blush and let a smile escape the corner of your lips.

"A little danger looks good on you."

That was the most Dabi had said to you since you joined the League. A small-time hero aimed their quirk at you and your heavily scarred teammate was quick to throw you against the nearest wall, his body covering yours. There was nothing but anger in your heart and a lust for blood painted on your face until your eyes met his stunning blues.

All it took was those few words from his all too calm voice and that lazy, lustful look from his heavy-lidded eyes...you were hooked. With a final stretch, you tried to shake him from your mind.

Freshly showered and with coffee in hand, you grabbed your phone off of the nightstand. You skimmed your missed messages to get an idea of the day ahead of you. Nothing unusual. Some blood-soaked selfies from Toga, early morning ramblings from Twice, a short but thoughtful message from Kurogiri thanking you for your efforts last night, and a lackluster message from your boss inviting you to attend a gathering at the LOV hideout for a few drinks and to officially welcome you into the fold.

Well, at least you had something besides a mission to look forward to. You'd been wound so tight for months doing everything you could to help the league and uphold Stain's ideals. You needed tonight. Besides, he might be there. Before you had the chance to shame yourself for letting him back into your thoughts, your phone rang. An unknown number.

You got out a sleepy, half-hearted, "Hello," before you heard it. That honey-coated voice that caused a chill to run the length of your spine before his warmth washed over you.

"I see our crusty leader is throwing you a party. That's quite a surprise. So when are we going?"

Like always, he was so matter of fact. So sure of himself and set in his intentions. As much as his words made you want to melt into the floor, he said a little danger looked good on you, right? Fine. Then you would live dangerously.

You caught your breath before meeting his cool tone with your own subtlely beckoning statement. "Why don't you come over and we'll discuss it over a drink? If you've got my number, I'm sure getting my address should be just as easy for you." He let out a chuckle, wicked and low.

"See you in an hour dollface."

With that, you both hung up. Your heart was going to implode. What had you gotten yourself into? You bit your lip and smiled. It took no time for you to pick out the perfect outfit. No worn-out villain clothes tonight. No. This called for something exceptional.

A little black dress, some thigh high stockings, and the perfect lace lined lingerie would get you more than just a passing glance from the stapled stud you had set your sights on. As you laid the outfit neatly on the edge of your bed, it hit you. "Shit." Your alcohol-fueled stress relief had left your house completely dry. Whatever.

Fashionably late with a bottle in hand seemed better than facing this man without a little liquid courage. A quick text and you were out the door. "Heading out for a bit. Give me 30. Let yourself in and get comfortable."

Getting your address was simple. He was a man on a mission and after last night, he had a hunger. Saving you was the first thing on his mind during yesterday's battle. You were reckless and he could relate to you. A woman with convictions was his weakness. In a world full of fake meaning, your passion was as fiery as his quirk and he wanted more. Needed more of you.

The thoughts that crossed his mind after pinning you to that wall were less than noble. He wanted to feel you, to sink his teeth into your soft flesh. God he hoped you were a fighter behind closed doors too. Maybe he could overpower you.

He wondered if you knew how much you had him worked up and if you were just as desperate for a release as he was. Before he knew it, he was at your front door. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

"Get comfortable? Alright, doll. Let's see what you're all about."

He was surprised upon entering your apartment.

"Pretty classy place for such a reckless fighter. What are you hiding in here, little miss?"

He was eager to get to know you better. He couldn't simply flop onto the couch and kick his feet up. He knew you were more than a simple yet dedicated member of the league. You had dirty little secrets somewhere and he was out to find them. A few unlabeled pill bottles in the bathroom, empty champagne bottles in the kitchen...nothing too out of the normal considering your line of work.

When he finally made his way into your room, it was as well put together as the rest of your flat. He sifted through your nightstands and found...nothing. He let out a little sigh of defeat and sat next to a small pile of clothes on the bed. Running his hands under your pillows in a last ditch effort, he finally found something.

"So you are a naughty girl. You don't disappoint after all."

His wicked smirk was a sight to see as he held your toy in his hand. He had seen these before in a questionable marketplace. So he knew two things for sure; you had taste and he wanted you even more now. He'll make you forget you even own that little toy.

He was praying that this was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to your kinks. He made a mental note and tucked the vibrator back under your pillow.

He moved his attention to the outfit you had delicately placed across the mattress. If that was what you were planning to wear tonight then you knew exactly what you were doing to him. He could imagine the way that tiny dress would hug your curves and tease him with glimpses of all the places of your body he wanted to devour.

The fishnets were a filthy addition and he might let you keep those on while he had his way with you someday. His thoughts continued to spiral and he could feel his growing erection pressing uncomfortably against his jeans.

That's when he saw them. There they were. Those perfect, lacey little panties. His hunger for you hit primal levels as he grabbed your panties off the bed and tugged at the hem with his teeth. His free hand was already rubbing his aching cock through his pants as he imagined sliding those panties over and letting himself inside you.

Oh, the sweet moans you would make. How would his name sound when it rolled off your tongue as you begged for him to wreck you? He knew you wouldn't be back for another 20 minutes and he couldn't hold out any longer.

He made quick work of laying back on your bed and freeing his now rock hard cock from its clothed cage. He grabbed the black silk panties and wrapped them firmly around his base as he began pumping and stroking.

He bit his lower lip at the electric feeling taking him over. He was a man possessed and he would get his release by any means necessary. The veins along his shaft were throbbing as he thought of you all dolled up and desperate for him. He wanted to know how you would look on your knees ready and waiting for him. He could almost feel your hips gripped tightly in his hands as he imagined ruthlessly hammering every inch into you. His deviant thoughts and the feeling of your panties sliding sweetly along his length was an intoxicating combination. His other hand reached for his heavy balls, massaging them, trying his best to spoil himself for the remaining time he had.

All it took was the thought of your pussy gripping and welcoming him inside you with that black lace causing the perfect amount of friction between your swollen lips, clinging desperately for that pathetic amount of friction-... He couldn't help himself. Thick, hot ropes of cum were coating the cotton lining of your panties, his release overflowing and pulling all the way to the base of his cock.

He milked out the last few drops and watched as they soaked into the thin fabric.

Well, this would either get him kicked out of your flat or he would get the confirmation he needed that this overwhelming lust was mutual. All he knew was that he needed a drink.

With perfect timing, you returned home with a bottle in each hand just as he had placed the underwear back onto the bed and got himself situated on the couch as though nothing had happened.

Your heart almost skipped a beat. You assumed he would show up so that was no surprise. What you hadn't planned for was just how good he would look; the track lighting of your apartment showcasing him like a work of art. He looked so comfortable, so natural sprawled out on your furniture. Like he had always belonged there. This was your home but his presence filled the place. Fuck, what you would give for him to fill you instead. Before you could fall even deeper down that rabbit hole of attraction, he greeted you as only he would.

"So are you gonna pour us a drink or are those just for show?"

You felt the heat rise in your face and you could only imagine the color of your cheeks as he let his eyes work their way from the whiskey in your hands to the rest of your body. "Sure thing. Gimme a sec. And I said to get comfortable, not scuff up my table with your big dirty boots, ass." His little laugh was warm and kind despite your attitude. A few drinks, some light conversation, a couple of shared nervous laughs and glances...before you knew it, it was getting late. A nice buzz enveloped you as you excused yourself.

"Not so fast, doll. Where do you think you're going?"

The look in his eyes made you weak. You couldn't tell if it was the slow burn of the whiskey or the equally smoldering quality in his tone that made you blush. "Sorry, blue eyes. I gotta go get ready. You don't want me missing my own welcome party, do you? Behave while I go get dressed," you giggled. That laugh, innocent and a clear give away to your inebriation, was enough to cause his desire to come bubbling over.

He was one sip of whiskey past the point of being calm and he needed you. He quickly made his way behind you, grabbing your hips and leaning in to whisper in your ear...

"You should know by now, behaving is not something I do, hopefully, you can behave like a pretty little thing you are. Now let's get into that cute little room of yours and you're going to get changed. Slip out of those clothes and give me a nice show."

With those words, he gave your neck a few light kisses making sure to let his lips trail your skin before pushing you lightly towards the room. You were a warm mix of goosebumps and giggles. You were going to give this man anything he asked for, do everything that left his mouth before even finishing his sentences.

This was happening and you wondered why it hadn't happened sooner. The look in his eyes was ravenous and you were ready and willing to let him feast. The second you both made your way into the bedroom, your body was against the wall; his own body covering yours once more. This time, however, there was no battle, no rush, and the only dangerous thing in the room was the man staring you down with lust in his eyes and whiskey on his tongue.

You began unbuttoning your blouse and it was as if he couldn't pepper your skin with kisses fast enough. His lips worked every inch that was exposed as you tilted your head back and practically ripped your shirt the rest of the way off. The blouse fell behind you as Dabi's teeth lightly grazed your neck.

His left hand made its way up to the clasp on the front of your bra. He looked down unhooking it with ease as your breath hitched in your lungs. He let his lips and tongue playfully work down from your neck to your now exposed breasts. His bottom lip was about to glide over your nipple when he suddenly stopped and looked at you with that wicked half-smile.

He grabbed your chin and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. His original intention was to make it quick but the two of you were swept away in the burning taste of cheap whiskey and overwhelming desire. His arms wrapped around your waist as your hands softly glided through his hair and over his scarred cheek.

With a final soft bite to your bottom lip, he pulled away. "Is everything okay?" The aura about him had changed to something far more dominant and primal.

"I said put on a show, babe. So let's see it."

He sat back on the bed as he looked over your figure. You couldn't tell if his stare was more anticipatory or predatory but either way, you were soaked and dying for his skin against yours. You turned around and looked back at him with a dark and coy smirk before facing away.

You slid your hands down your body until they made their way to the zipper on the back of your skirt. As the small metal tab fell, Dabi bit his lip and felt something else rise up. You placed your hands on the wall above your head and spread your legs lightly.

You gave your hips a little shake and the skirt fell to the floor. Turning around to face him, you ran your thumbs across your hips and into the waistband of your panties. You teasingly lowered them barely an inch. His eyes lit up. That's when you snapped the band and let the panties back up. Slinking towards him, you placed yourself between his legs with your arms around his neck. "I think you should take these off...Don't want to have all the fun to myself."

"I thought you'd never ask, babe. But you'd look better in these. Why don't we change things up a bit?"

With that, he picked up the little black panties from the outfit laid out on your bed. You blushed. Now you were wondering what else he had seen. As you took them from his hand, you noticed something felt off about them. Your fingers slid across the slick and sticky substance that was still warm. Suddenly it hit you and felt your own temperature rise. "Dabi did you..."

"I said...put them on....go on."

His voice was deceptively calm but inside he was on a one-way track and there was no stopping him tonight. His cock was literally aching to be inside and the thrill of seeing you slide those panties on, getting you nice and coated with his cum before he had even entered you; It drove him right over the edge.You shyly slipped off your panties and began to put the others on. You stopped with them about halfway up. "Babe, I dunno. Is this really...."

"Looks like you need a little help."

Before you could blink, he had come right up to you and pulled the cum soaked panties the rest of the way up. You barely had time to catch your breath and enjoy the feeling of his lips so close to you when he began to run his fingers over your clothed slit and press his still warm fluids closer inside you. When he heard a small moan escape your lips and felt the silk against his fingers go from dampened by his own doing to soaked with your juices, he knew he had you.

He let his fingers slide past the fabric and past your folds trailing his sticky cum along them. He dipped two fingers into your cunt, pushing his cum into you, picking up the gushing out liquid each time it dared to drip out of you.

With just two minutes of that, he was throbbing and you were crying out, begging to feel him inside you, begging to get a fresh coat of cum in your greedy pussy.

"All fours, on the bed...Now."

With a firm slap to your ass, you did just as you were told. Only, he didn't get behind you like you were expecting. No. After quickly undressing himself, he stood before you hard and ready. Your jaw dropped and you were about to tell him how bad you needed it but he grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eyes.

"You're gonna be a good girl and get me nice and wet before I let you feel this cock filling you up and stretching that pretty pink pussy of yours. Do you understand?''

You nodded as he moved his hand to the back of your head and the other to the base of his cock. He guided you forward and you let your tongue gingerly trace the veins of his shaft before wrapping your lips around. With every pulse of his hips, you would play with his tip and graze it with your soft tongue before taking him all the way into the back of your throat.

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back. A few expletives left his lips as you let out soft moans and began to drool, his length becoming a bit too much to handle. Your mouth became a sloppy mess, his cock twitching each time your throat tightened around him. He could feel himself getting warmer and dizzier, the sight of you splattering around his length, your eyes watery and your hands struggling to keep you up made it unbearable for him to hold for much longer.

You can feel the mess dripping onto the sheets as you rub your thighs together.

He slides out of your mouth with a small pop and runs his thumb across your lips glistening with spit. The look you gave each other said enough as you arched your back and he made his way behind you.

His earlier fantasy was becoming a reality as he put one hand firmly on your hip and used the other to slide his tip up and down your warm and aching lips. He let go of both just long enough to grip the sides of your panties and burn them clean off. He yanked away the remaining fabric and lined himself up with your quivering entrance.

"Is this what you want, gorgeous? Hm? Do you need it?"

"Yes! Please Dabi! Fuck! I need it.C'mon.Please." And with your final desperate cries...he did just that. His every inch slid into you just right. His cock twitched as soon as he bottomed out, his hips jerking into you out of instinct.

He was the only man you knew who could pound your pussy so ruthlessly while his hands still explored your body so sweetly. it was intoxicating, addictive. You needed more. You needed him. Despite him holding your hips down, you managed to sway your hips just right, meeting his thrusts one by one.

He watched you gasp and loose balance, dropping on your forearms as you buried your head into the cushion. He admired the way your pussy took him so well, his cock disappearing all the way in and then coming back out. He was hazed, forgetting how much time passed as he plowed in and out of you, the intoxicating rhythm putting a strain on his muscles as he couldn't have it in him to slow down.

You were a teary mess, whines and cries coming from your sore throat as you begged for him to make you cum.

With another hard slap across your ass and more praise for the way you took him so well...that was it. You couldn't take it anymore. He was pounding that spongey spot just right and his hands were sending shivers through you. You couldn't hold back anymore and he could tell. You were clenching down on him as he continued to slide in and out. He grabbed you by the waist, towering over your back as he held your body flush to his.

His pace deep and more meaningful, his cock dragging along your velvety walls that were squeezing him of every drop he had left. The feeling of him throbbing as his warm cum painted your insides white threw you over the edge, your legs shaking as he continued with small ruts into your shivering cunt.

You were breathless, smiling, and spent. To your surprise, so was he. His blue eyes half lidded and his breathing ragged.

He carefully slid out of you and you both fell back into the mattress. After taking a moment to appreciate his sweat sheened body you sheepily asked, "Soooo...about the party...?"

"Yeah, yeah. It was great, wasn't it? Now shut up and come here," he said teasingly, welcoming you into his arms.

You're not sure when you fell asleep with your head on his chest or how you ended up with this man in your bed but you were happy to sleep in that day, your body already hooked on the warmth of his embrace, begging for it to not be just for this one night.

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So that was a wild ride, the backstory about this one is kinda long but i'll keep it as short as possible.

One day this lady jumped into my dm's (a few moths ago) requesting a Dabi x Reader x Overhaul fic.

Hovewer I didn't exactly get to it yet, but we continued talking throughout the months, her mentioning how she would love to start writing but was too scared of messing something up.

So we came up with a rough idea about dabi jerking off in the reader's panties and it went uphill from there!! Drafts and drafts, massages and thirsts we collabed on this and ended up with this little 4k word thing. So taking all of this into consideration, if you liked this spicy fic go give a follow to @issamomma the mentioned lady and a wonderful woman and now my dear friend.

Like,comment and reblog with ideas you might want the two us to collab on again. Hope you loved it and enjoyed it as much as we enjoyed writing it.

___________

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commissions:open

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[aliwritesfic]

The Night Shift part 8 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Summary: It's time to do what's best for you . . . also fuck Kurt

Warnings: physical violence, emotional abuse, brief mention of trauma

W/C: 2.2k

AN: So.... I'll be honest, I was quite sick when I wrote this (and I'm still not 100% but I'm at like 75% which is good enough) but I have a mentality of not editing or revising my work otherwise I embarrass myself and convince myself I'm The Worst(tm), but I hope this makes sense and the pacing is good <3

Spotify

Part 1 Part 9

Frankie was glad to see you finally opening up. Even if that meant tears he couldn’t wipe away, or a hand he couldn’t hold. The last thing he wanted was to put you in a position where you thought the only reason he was helping was to swoop in while you were vulnerable.

You sat next to him in his truck, your eyes were puffy and red from tears that once they started seemed to come in waves of intensity, from a few sniffles to shoulders heaving, gasping for air sobs. Manny sat beside you, holding your hand, which Frankie was grateful for. He was glad to see that you had people that cared about you. When he had messaged Manny that morning, it was more to find out if his suspicions were correct about the ‘friend’ you had talked about while drunk was you.

“You don’t have-“

“We want to,” Manny interjected for the fifth time. It occurred to Frankie that you weren’t used to people wanting to help you. “I’ve been praying that you’ll let me help you.” That made you sob again. You gave another apology, chest heaving as you tried to breathe.

Truthfully, Frankie was also glad that this was an excuse for him to skip talking about his own feelings. His own mind was a muddy mess of flashbacks and night terrors and bouts of anxiety that became so crippling he forgot how to breathe. How well would that have gone down in the little group he now found himself apart of? If he had to guess, about as well as it went down with Portia – pitying looks and urges to see a proper therapist, and a new distance that neither was willing bridge.

Manny answered a call as Frankie drove back. He wasn’t driving anywhere in particular, but when it had become clear you wanted to be anywhere but that bistro, he had suggested the three of you pile into his truck and see where the road took you.

“Mateo, honey, I need to ask you a few things,” Manny said into his phone. Out of the corner of his eye, Frankie saw you lean your head back and squeeze your eyes shut. Frankie wanted to reach out and squeeze your knee, take your hand, do anything to show that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere so long as you wanted him around.

Manny’s voice faded into the background as you turned to look at Frankie. He pulled up at a small nature reserve, which was just an algae slicked pond and a few oak trees surrounded by recently mowed grass. Frankie noticed how bloodshot your eyes were.

“You okay?” he asked, realising it was a stupid question.

“I will be,” you said, your voice hoarse. You cleared your throat with a wince. “I’m not upset . . . I’m just overwhelmed. Like, I’ve been holding this all in for so long that once the lid was opened it was impossible to put back on, and now I’ve just gotta let it all out. Does that sound stupid?”

Frankie shook his head. “Not at all.” You smiled weakly at him.

“Bet this is the worst lunch you’ve ever had,” you said.

“Nah, I think it ranks pretty highly,” Frankie said. “Mainly because of the company, though.” You rolled your eyes and Frankie could see the corners of your mouth twitch in an effort to keep a smile away.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” he said softly.

“What isn’t?” You asked, but before he could answer, Manny interjected.

“I’ve found you a new place,” he said. You shot up, confusion written on your face plainly. Manny smiled the type of smile when someone knows they’ve basically saved the day. “That was my dear friend Mateo on the phone. He is taking his first steps towards being a real estate mogul and recently brought a one bedroom apartment to rent out. And because he is such a dear friend and owes me like, a billion favours, I told him the minimum of what your situation was, and he has told me that he’s willing to rent the place to you for lower than market value. A hundred and twenty a week, including water.”

You’re silent for a few moments, and Frankie watched you carefully.

“When can I move in?” you said finally, and Frankie felt an invisible weight lift off your shoulders. He could only imagine how difficult this would be for you; making decisions that would change how you lived in a matter of hours, basically upending your life.

“He can get the keys to us on Wednesday, he’s just got to replace some fixtures and finish painting some walls,” Manny said. You nodded slowly.

“So, I just need to last till Wednesday,” you said.

“You can stay at my place, if you want.” Frankie said quickly, not exactly comfortable with the idea of you staying with Kurt. You had said he was never physically violent, but Frankie also knew how quickly a man could change when they didn’t get their way.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose,” you said carefully. Frankie nodded.

“Of course, you’re my friend, and friends help each other.” Just friends. Only friends. He wasn’t going to take advantage of you in this state just because he had a stupid crush. He had once had a conversation with a pissed off Eve Miller, who was ranting about the guys she thought were her friends instantly making moves the moment she became single. That had solidified Frankie’s resolve to not make moves on women he was friends with – it wasn’t fair to them or to him.

Before you could answer, your phone was ringing loudly. Your face crumpled as you looked at the contact, and Frankie frowned.

Kurt.

You took a deep breath and hit answer. “Hey! What’s up?” Your light and airy tone was at odds with your sombre expression. “No, I have lunch with Manny on Sunday, remember? You’re home already? But –“

Frankie listened to the angry buzzing coming from your phone, his revulsion growing.

“My phone died – no I just went out with Sara last night, she wanted to go to fight night . . . it’s not that short . . . No I didn’t fuck anyone else, Jesus Christ, Kurt! No! Look, I’ll be home soon, we can talk about this then.” You hung up with a shaking hand, your mouth twisting with effort to contain the tears.

Manny met Frankie’s eye over the top of your bowed head and gave a small nod.

“We’ll come with you to get some of your clothes,” Frankie said. “And anything else you need.”

“You’re really too sweet for this,” you muttered with a hiccup. “I’m sorry for dragging the both of you into my shit.”

“I crawled willingly into it,” Manny said breezily, “which I would only do for about five people in this world.”

The trio remained silent for several minutes, interrupted only but the sound of your occasional hiccups. Frankie reached out and patted your shoulder awkwardly, cringing internally while he did. Inexplicably, you leant into his touch, your damp cheek brushing against the back of his hand.

“Can you drive me home so I can get my stuff?” you asked softly. Frankie nodded and turned on the truck.

~*~

You were a ball of anxiety as Frankie pulled into the complex’s parking lot. Kurt’s car was already in the spot reserved for your apartment, sending you to the verge of a full-blown panic attack. You squeezed your eyes shut and counted to ten, then backwards from ten. Distantly, you felt Manny take hold of one of your hands.

“You’ve got this.” Manny’s voice sounded far away. “Francisco and I are behind you one hundred percent.”

“You’re calling the shots,” Frankie said, touching your arm. His hand was warm and calloused, and you didn’t know why that observation seemed to be at the forefront of your mind, but it was. You opened your eyes and met Frankie’s warm brown ones, suddenly feeling infinitely stronger.

You told them what you wanted to do – for you to go in by yourself and for them to wait outside the door, plug their ears if necessary, only come in if they felt like you were in any actual danger. Frankie’s face darkened at this, but to your relief he didn’t protest your plan.

You felt stronger with the two of them behind you. Every single step towards your apartment door solidified your resolve that this was the right thing, that this relationship hadn’t made you happy, fulfilled, in years. The click of your key in the door felt like one of finality.

Kurt sat on the couch, glaring at you. You left the door open a crack as you walked in, hovering by the dining table. You took him in fully and came to the conclusion that you were no longer attracted to this man at all. His skin was reddened by the sun, pale patches around his light blue eyes. His thin mouth was curled into a sneer.

“Care to explain what the fuck you’ve been doing while I was gone?” he said.

“Not really, no.” You replied. “Here’s the thing, Kurtis, you don’t get to go out with your friends for the whole weekend doing who-knows-what then turn around and get angry at me for spending time with the only friend from school that I still have! That’s not fair.”

“And who’s fault is that? You’re the one who pushed them all away!” Kurt stood up and advanced towards you. Normally, you would have taken a step backwards, given him space, but this time you stood your ground, clenching your fists tightly to stop them shaking.

“I’m still allowed to have a social life,” you said, struggling to keep your tone even. Kurt rolled his eyes.

“If you wanna go out and act like a fucking whore-“

“Think what you want, Kurt,” you said, “it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m leaving. You can’t stop me.”

Kurt spluttered for a moment, turning a shade of deep red. “Like fucking HELL you’re leaving me, you bitch!”

“I am!” you shot back. He was only a few inches from you now, so close his breath was hot on your face. “I’m miserable, I don’t love you anymore, and I’m done. I’ve been done for so long I can’t remember a time I was fully invested in this relationship! I deserve better! I deserve love that doesn’t make me so sad it hurts, and I can’t have that with you.”

Kurt’s face twisted into an ugly contortion of the features you once found perfect. “No. Nobody can love you the way I do! Nobody can understand you like I do! If you leave, I won’t want to live anymore. Don’t you remember? I can’t live without you!”

“Then go to a fucking hospital!” you snapped, moving to get past him. Kurt grabbed your wrist tightly. His grip was like a vice, cutting off blood supply to your fingers.

“Let go!” you begged. Kurt tugged you closer, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth, your noses almost touching. He’s going to kill me. Oh my god, he’s actually going to kill me. You saw movement by the door out of the corner of your eye, and your heart swelled.

“You heard her,” Frankie said, “let her go.”

Kurt didn’t let go, but instead gripped harder. He’s completely lost it, you thought dimly, the expression Kurt wore sending true fear into your heart.

“And just who the fuck are you?” Kurt demanded.

“Let her go,” Frankie repeated. He didn’t raise his voice, but you could still hear the power it held. Kurt scoffed and spat at Frankie’s feet.

“This is an issue between me and my girlfriend, now get out of my apartment before I make you.”

Frankie didn’t reply, instead, he strode forward, pushed the sleeves of his flannel over shirt up as he did. Kurt didn’t wait. He pushed you hard against the kitchen bench, knocking the breath out of you and sending a shot of pain through your back, and moved to meet Frankie in the middle of the room.

It happened in an instant, blink and you miss it. Frankie swung, his fist connecting with Kurt’s jaw with a sickening crunch. Kurt went down like a lead balloon, howling as he collapsed on the floor. Frankie stood over him, breathing hard through his nose.

Manny ran forward to help you, holding you to him like the protective brother you had always wished for. It took you a few moments to realise you were shaking, out of fear or adrenaline you didn’t know.

“Come on,” he whispered soothingly, “we gotta get your stuff.” You nodded and let him help you up. You didn’t feel like you were connected with your body like you were watching the whole thing through a separate set of eyes. You saw Frankie standing over Kurt, arms crossed and boot pressing into Kurt’s chest.

Manny held your hand as you walked to your bedroom. You were distantly aware of the aching in your body, your back, and wrist especially. It was Manny who packed your bag for you, grabbing anything he thought you might need. The whole thing was done in less than ten minutes. Before you left you turned to face Kurt.

“I’ll be back sometime this week to get the rest of my stuff. Do not contact me.”

You felt your strength returning to you as you left with Frankie and Manny with you. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish @punkerthanpascal @nakhudanyx @gracie7209 @quica-quica-quica @pintsizemama @phoenix-of-loki

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 13

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

She twists around within the confines of his arms and nuzzles against his neck. He smiles, pulling her closer as early-dawn light seeps in around the blinds. She hums contentedly, wiggling against him, and he pulls in a deep breath, flexing his hips gently towards her with a sigh. Pulling her head back, she looks at him with a sleepy smile.

“Hi,” she says softly, her fingers grazing over his bare back.

“Hey,” he replies, “I have to say, I much prefer that morning greeting to ‘what the hell?’”

Her smile widens.

“You might also be a touch confused if you went to bed alone and woke up with someone beside you,” she says, though not defensively.

“If I went to bed alone and woke up with you next to me, the only thing I’d be saying is ‘praise the lord,’”

“I thought you were an atheist,” she retorts, her hand sliding down his back until it slips just under the waistband of his boxers.

He shrugs. “It’s a figure of speech.”

“Well, speaking of the Lord, I told my mother I’d go to church with her this morning, so I’ll have to kick you out shortly,” she says, fingers brushing against the tops of his ass cheeks and effectively waking up his dick.

“You said you’re Catholic, right?” he asks, and she nods. “I think you may have some things to confess, Ms. Scully,” he continues, bringing his own hand to her panty-clad backside and pulling her against him so she can feel him growing hard.

She smiles mischievously at him. “That I do, thanks to you,” she says.

“So how does that work?” he asks, “forgive me father, for I have sat on a man’s face?”

She laughs out loud, a true guffaw, and shakes her head at him.

“They really don’t like you to get that specific,” she answers, “more like...engaged in sex acts outside of marriage, fornicated, euphemisms like that.”

“That’s too bad,” he says, slipping his hand under her panties at the leg so he can squeeze her bare ass cheek, “I’m sure those poor priests could use come juicy confessions to break up the doldrums of celibacy.”

“Mmm, I’m sure,” she says, digging her fingernails into his flesh.

He kisses her, chastely at first, the sleep-warm smell of her intimate and comforting at the same time. When he brushes his tongue against her lips, she pulls back.

“I have awful morning breath, Mulder,” she objects.

“So do I,” he replies, kissing her again, and this time she lets him.

They paw gently at each other, slow and sleepy in their exploration. His hands drift up under her oversized T-shirt to touch her breasts, and down over the smooth skin of her thighs. She trails her fingers over his bare torso, dancing along the hem of his boxers, brushing over his erection through the cotton. They sigh and kiss, a soft moan occasionally escaping when something feels especially nice. He tugs at her panties and she pushes them down to her knees, then scissors her legs until she kicks them off. Her leg falls open as he touches her softly, not with a goal in mind; touching just for the pleasure of touch. When he slips a finger inside, he groans at how wet she is.

“Mulder,” she says breathily, her lips close to his ear, “let’s have sex.”

He feels a surge of blood flush into his already stiff cock.

“Are you sure?” he asks, slowly pumping his finger in and out.

“Very,” she answers, her voice catching.

“Do you have a condom?” he inquires, praying that the answer is yes.

She pushes his hand away and rolls on top of him, kissing him and flexing her pelvis against his as she reaches into her bedside drawer. Finding what she was looking for, she rolls back to his side and holds up a black square with a smirk.

He pushes his own boxers off quickly, then moves to hover over her. Tugging at the hem of her T-Shirt, he waits while she sits up enough for him to pull it off over her head, leaving them both naked with him cradled between her thighs. They resume kissing and he can hear the crinkle of the condom wrapper as she tears it open, then feels her hands stroking him lazily before the cool latex touches the head of his cock. She rolls it down his length expertly and continues down to cup his balls, giving them a soft tug that makes him groan. Next he feels her grip his shaft, positioning the tip at her opening before her hands come to rest on his sides.

He slowly pushes into her, listening and feeling raptly for any indication that he’s hurting her, but soon enough their bodies are flush, his scrotum pressed against her ass with every inch of him tucked inside. She is tight and hot around him and he stays still for a moment, their lips brushing together softly. When he slowly pulls back and pushes into her again, they both moan as her back arches off the bed, her head dropping back against the pillow. He begins a slow, languid rhythm as they kiss, her hands scraping over his back and her legs wrapping around his hips.

“You feel so fucking good,” he professes against her ear, and he feels her throb once around him. “Can you come like this?”

“Probably not,” she breaths, “but that’s okay, it still feels really good.”

“No, tell me what you need,” he whispers into her neck, sucking at her earlobe.

“Maybe,” she says hesitantly, “if you lay behind me, kind of spooning.”

He withdraws from her and rolls on to his side, pulling her back against his chest. He touches her breasts for a moment and then slides his hand down to push her leg up, hitching her ankle behind his knee.

“Like this?” he asks, reaching between her legs to press the head of his cock against her opening as he routes inside.

“Mmmmm, yes,” she moans, and he resumes a steady pace as his fingers find her clit, gently circling.

He threads his other arm under her, crossing it over her chest so he can cup her breast, pinching the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She gasps, and he feels her clench around him again, the sensation incredible both physically and mentally. She moves her free arm back to rest on his ass, squeezing and encouraging him as he thrusts into her. They are entwined like human pretzels, hands working as he moves within her, her head turned up to find his mouth as they kiss and touch and fuck slowly and quietly, save for the occasional moan and the wet slip of her as he pumps in and out. When she stops kissing him, just holding her open mouth against his, he keeps his movements consistent, knowing she’s close.

“Oh yes, oh god, don’t stop,” she keens, and he feels his balls tighten in anticipation.

She pulls in a big breath and holds it, her body going rigid. Then she lets out a long, low moan and he feels her clench tight around him before erupting into rhythmic throbs. It feels so amazing that he soon follows her, clutching her to him as his orgasm takes off just as hers is coming down, their shared release a cacophony of muted groans and declarations to deities only one of them believes in. They stay there entangled as he slowly slips out of her, kissing her neck softly.

“I need to take a shower,” she says regretfully, “gotta get ready to go confess what we just did,” she adds with a squeeze to his arm, and he chuckles.

“Okay. I’ll call you later?” he replies, standing and stepping into the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

“Please do,” she says, stretching before she rises from the bed herself.

He pulls her into a hug, already missing the feeling of her nakedness against his own.

“Say a few Hail Mulder’s for me, would ya?”

She pulls back and smiles up at him. “Of course.”

———

She sits between Missy and her mother in the pew, Charlie seated on the other side of mom, as Father McCue delivers his Sunday sermon. Though they have varying levels of belief in the religion they were raised with, Bill being the most devout and Dana a distant second, Maggie Scully lives for the Sundays when one or more of her children attend mass with her. The fact that all three of those who live locally made it today has her in an especially good mood, which is why she doesn’t seem to notice her daughters whispering in the pew beside her.

Missy keeps glancing over at her surreptitiously until finally Dana turns and gives her a pointed look, eyebrows lifted expectantly.

Missy glances at mom to ensure her attention is on the pulpit and then leans in close to her sister’s ear.

“You had sex, didn’t you?” she says in the softest of whispers, and Dana shoots her a look.

“We are in church, Melissa,” she whispers back, shutting down the conversation.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Missy retorts haughtily, and Dana jabs her in the ribcage with an elbow. Missy winces, then adds “see you in the confessional, Sis.”

After mass and the confession booth, where Dana admits to fornication and impure thoughts (so many, many, impure thoughts), they head to Mom’s favorite little cafe for Sunday brunch. The place is bustling at noon on a Sunday and the three Scully children and their mother are cloistered tightly around a small round table, munching on omelettes and sandwiches.

“Dana has a boyfriend,” Missy says flatly during a lull in the conversation, and Scully shoots her another look.

“Nice,” Charlie says with very little interest, but Mom is looking at Dana with a wounded expression.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone, Dana?” she asks with furrowed brows and a frown.

“It’s very new, mom. Nothing serious.” Even as the words leave her mouth, she knows it’s a lie; her feelings for Mulder are anything but casual, even if she’s not quite ready to admit it yet.

“When will we get to meet him?” Maggie asks next, and Dana sighs.

“I don’t know, Mom. Like I said, it’s pretty new. I’m not going to accost him with a family gathering anytime soon.”

“Well, tell us about him, then,” she prods, “what’s his name?”

Scully cringes. “Um, his name is Fox Mulder.”

“Fox? Like the animal?” Charlie asks with a dopey smile, suddenly deciding to engage in the conversation.

“Yes, Charlie, like the animal,” she replies with an irritated tone, “but he doesn’t like to be called by his first name, he just goes by Mulder.”

“You call your boyfriend ‘Mulder’?” Charlie teases, and she sets her jaw, glaring at him.

“I’m sorry, Charlie, what was the name of that trashy woman you brought to Easter dinner last year, Bambi?” she says with a cutting tone. Charlie stops smiling and narrows his eyes at her.

“Her name was Fawn. It’s a totally normal name,” he says dejectedly.

“That’s enough,” Maggie declares, shooting a look at Missy who has been giggling through the entire conversation. “I’m glad to hear that you’re dating, Dana,” she says, placing her hand on top of her daughter’s on the table. “When you’re ready, I’d love to meet him.”

Dana gives her a tight lipped smile and a nod, and they continue their meal in relative peace.

After they’ve parted ways at the restaurant doors, she is walking the two blocks to where she parked her car when she passes by a sidewalk cafe. She does a double take when she spots Mulder at one of the outdoor tables, a smile immediately curling the corners of her mouth at the sight of him. She walks towards the table and is about to approach him when she stops, realizing that he’s not alone. He’s seated with a woman with long, dark brown hair, and the way he’s smiling at her makes Dana’s stomach turn.

She steps behind a parked car and watches them for a bit, noting the casual way he touches her hand on the table top and the familiar crinkle at the corner of his eyes that is paired with an affectionate gaze. It is unmistakably the look between two people who are more than just friends, who know each other intimately. She feels nauseous, her heart pounding in her throat as they stand and he pulls her into a tight hug, rocking slightly as his hands brush over her back. They are starting to separate and she can see that he is tilting his head to kiss her so she looks away, not wanting to see. She stumbles to her car, tears breaking free and slipping down her cheeks. Once in the driver’s seat, she lets the sobs overtake her. She feels betrayed, and stupid, and guilty. Stupid because she should have known it was too good to be true and she fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Guilty because she deserves this, after what she did to Ethan. Reap what you sow; isn’t that what she’d been taught as a child?

Maybe it was all for nothing after all. Maybe she ruined her life and a potentially happy marriage for a man who saw her only as a conquest. She sniffs hard, wiping away her tears, and collects herself. Buckling her seatbelt and starting the ignition, she drives home. Once there, she gets to work ridding her apartment of any signs of him. She strips her bed, washes her sheets, throws away the still damp toothbrush he’d just used that morning. She removes him from her life once again, a life that will start over fresh tomorrow; starting over seems to be something she’s becoming an expert at as of late. She just hopes that one day her new beginning turns into something she can hold on to, and that this painful cycle of hurt and healing will eventually stop.

[sleepysnk]

Team Player: Chapter Ten

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader

Warnings: suggestive content

Word Count: 3.1k

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"Let's go Kirstein!"

Coach Smith's words echoed throughout the field, it was the day before the championship game against Marley University. The team that Trost had lost to a few weeks prior. Everyone was beyond excited but nervous for this matchup, it decided if Trost would be good enough.

The only difference at today's practice was that a familiar face would be returning, that person was Eren. 

He had worked all day with (Y/N) to get used to his new techniques, he had only one more day to try and it was finally time for him to prove to Coach Smith that he was a reliable and worthy player for the team. Eren silently prayed that all this hard work would pay off.

The air was chilly that day, it was a usual cool morning and, for some reason, Eren felt like he had a stroke of luck. That today would be the day he'd get back to the sport he loved, and maybe, just maybe, he'd get a spot on the Kansas City Chiefs. 

Eren watched his teammates jogging on the track, some panted, while others continued pushing through the pain of running for so long in the cooler weather. 

"Coach."

Coach Smith's attention averted towards someone he didn't expect seeing, he didn't think Eren would show up.

"Eren? Did you work out your issues?" he asked, looking back at the players who were still running. 

Eren tossed his bag to the floor. "Yeah, I'd love to show you my improvement," he replied, his voice confident. 

Coach Smith blew his whistle. "Everyone! Gather 'round! I'm gonna explain today's plan," he called, waving everyone over. 

Eren watched his teammates approach his coach, he hadn't seen some of them in two weeks; a few of them stared at Eren, or exchanged looks with one another. 

"Today we'll be running plays, you all need to be at the absolute best. Eren here is going to be joining us today, let's see if he's ready," he explained, looking around at the boys. "Are we ready?"

"Ready!" they yelled all together. 

"Good.. now go get some balls and get started," he said. "Not you Eren.. I gotta see what you can do.."

Eren stopped in his tracks and turned towards Coach Smith. "Okay, what do you want me to do?" he asked, nodding.

"How is your ankle? It's been awhile since I've heard anything about your injury. I need to make sure you're 100%," he asked, looking down at his ankle. 

Eren stepped a few times, rolling the muscle around to show there was no sign of pain. "It's been good.. I got better meds and I stayed off of my feet," he replied, looking up.

His coach only nodded, "I see.. well, let's see how being off your feet has paid off. Reiner! Come throw some balls for Eren," he yelled at the blonde. 

Reiner jogged over with a football in his hand. "Sounds good coach, Eren, it's good to see you again," he said with a smile. 

Eren smirked, "It's good to see you too Reiner," he replied. 

"Enough talkin', get on the field and catch some balls," Coach Smith ordered. 

Eren put his helmet on, he hadn't worn his helmet in so long; he missed the feeling of it on his head. 

Reiner stood at the end of the field, he tossed the ball up into the air. "You ready!?" he called.

Eren nodded, "We're good!" he yelled back. 

The center got into position to pass the ball to Reiner, his eyes scanned the players around him before he spoke. "Hut!"

Eren ran down the field, his head turning to see where Reiner was going to throw; he could see the ball falling towards him. He looked around to see if anyone was nearby, it was his ball at that point. 

The ball landed into Eren's arms, he slowed down a bit and looked back at his other teammates; along with his coach. 

"Nice catch.. you seem to have a better ankle," Jean said, patting his shoulder. 

Eren tossed the ball back to Reiner. "Yeah, I do. I'm ready to get back out there," he replied, flashing a smirk his way. 

"Let's run that again! Reiner! Do a random play of your choice!" Coach Smith yelled, crossing his arms. 

Eren jogged back to the line, he could feel the sweat already forming on his brow. He had to do his best, it was for the sake of his career and his team. Eren wasn't even thinking about the offer anymore, he just wanted to help his team; it was different, but he knew it was from all the work he had put in with (Y/N).

(Y/N).

Eren smiled to himself as the image of her flashed into his head, he wanted to show her how much he's worked. 

"Hut!" 

Eren ran down the field, he turned his head to see what was going on. He wasn't sure where Reiner was going to throw; Eren wasn't even sure what play he was running, but one thing was for sure, the ball wasn't for Eren. 

He watched it fall into Jean's arms, his body making contact onto the floor. "Got it!" Jean yelled, sitting up a bit. 

Eren jogged over, reaching his hand out to help Jean up. "Here.." he said, looking down at him. 

Jean took his hand, "Damn.. you usually never help me up when I catch a ball. Did that girl do something to your head?"

Eren looked away for a moment. "Nah.. but she did help, I'm thankful for her," he replied, smiling a bit.

"You're a simp"

Eren looked at him, "What..?"

"I said it.. you're such a simp for (Y/N), it's obvious, especially when I was flirting with her in the library." Jean replied, a smirk forming onto his features.

Eren rolled his eyes, "Whatever.. she's pretty great though," he said. 

"Eren!"

He turned his head to see his coach over. 

"I'll be right back," Eren said, patting Jean's shoulder.

He jogged to the sidelines where his coach was standing, he could feel his heart thumping against his ribcage. He hoped that his coach would tell him some good news, if not that'd seriously crush him; his dreams would be over as well. 

"What's up coach?" he asked, nodding his head. 

Coach Smith looked at him. "You seem to be doing well.. that last play was meant to throw you off," he said. "Before you used to go for the ball without a car in the world.. but now, I've seen a change in you," 

Eren looked at him, confusion written on his face. "So.. what does that mean?" he asked. 

"I'm going to let you play tomorrow.." Coach Smith replied. 

His eyes grew wide, excitement rushing through his veins. He did it. He actually fucking did it. Eren could now show all of his hard work, it paid off. 

"You're for real?" he asked, smiling.

"Yes I'm for real, Eren. I like what I see, keep this same vibe on the field tomorrow and we'll win this game," Coach Smith said, nodding his head. 

Eren stuck out his hand. "Thank you coach," he said, a serious expression written on his face. 

He shook his hand, "You're welcome Eren.. don't make me regret this," he replied.

"You won't, I can count on that."

The rest of practice went very well for Eren, he actually gave his own ideas on some new plays they should try out. He also talked about some ways they could improve the team, all of it impressed Coach Smith; he never knew Eren had this side to him. He was most impressed by the way Eren let the ball go, he didn't hog it anymore; he gave it up. It shocked some of his own teammates as well.

"Say Eren, who made you get your head out of your ass?" Reiner asked, leaning against the locker. 

Eren looked down and back up at him. "Let's just say, it was someone special," he replied. "They uh.. really made me see what I was doing wrong."

Reiner nodded, "Well whoever they are, they did a great job," he said. 

Eren chuckled, "Yeah.. she did.." he smiled thinking of (Y/N).

"Alright! See you all tomorrow! Remember, be here tomorrow at noon! The bus is leaving at 12:45!" Coach Smith yelled, his voice echoing in the room. 

Eren grabbed his backpack, pulling the straps over his shoulders. He wanted to go and find (Y/N) to tell her the good news. 

"Eren."

He turned to see Coach Smith standing there. "What's up?" he asked, blinking a bit.

"It's good to have you back," he replied, smiling. 

Eren looked down, "It feels good to be back."

He made his way out of the locker room with a huge grin on his face. He couldn't wait to tell (Y/N) the news.

-

The hallways were filled with different students who were either heading to class, just leaving class, or going off to their dorms to relax for the rest of the day. (Y/N) being one of them. She was exhausted and she just wanted to head back to her dorm and take a nap. 

She was walking with Sasha, her roommate, of course the girl was rambling about something her boyfriend Connie did. It didn't necessarily interest (Y/N), the only thing her mind was worried about was the brunette boy she kissed the previous night. 

She wasn't exactly sure what their status was, was Eren just playing some kind of prank? What if he was just using her? She liked Eren a lot, she couldn't necessarily deny it anymore; it was obvious. She made it her goal to figure out what was happening with what they had, she silently prayed it wasn't him just messing with her. If that was the case her whole confession would be an embarrassment and she knew the kind of person he was. 

"(Y/N)! Hello?" 

She looked over at Sasha who was waving her hand. "You're spacing out again.. what are you thinking about?" she inquired, nodding her head. 

(Y/N) blinked for a moment before speaking. "Oh! Nothing Sasha, I'm just really tired and today was a long day,"

The brunette didn't seem exactly thrilled with her statement, she didn't believe a word that came from her mouth. 

"What even happened between you and Eren? You guys were gone for awhile, not to mention it was storming," she asked, raising a brow. 

A rush of heat formed onto (Y/N)'s face, her mind going back to the kiss they shared in the rain. The kiss made her knees weak and she couldn't even speak properly, Eren was just a charmer. He had the most amazing hair, his scent intoxicated her, and don't even start about his body. 

"We just got lost in the rain, that's about it," she replied, shrugging her shoulders. 

Sasha leaned against the wall. "Uh huh.. well whatever you say (Y/N), I gotta go find Connie, can you wait here for a second?" she asked. 

She nodded, "Yeah go ahead! I'll wait.." 

Sasha ran down the hall to find her boyfriend, (Y/N) giggled at the sight of her friend. She was happy Sasha found someone, not to mention how cute her and Connie were. 

She started scrolling through her phone, a sigh came from her mouth noticing that she didn't have a notification from the person she wanted to hear from most. Eren. She hadn't heard from him since that night and the feeling was bothersome, it lingered with her all day and she wasn't sure what to do. 

"(Y/N)!" 

Her attention averted towards the brunette running towards her, it was Eren. He seemed excited too, he had that same smile and his face was bright. 

"Hey? You seem to be in a better mood," she said, a smile forming onto her features. 

Eren panted a bit, "Yeah.. I had to – man fuck I ran a ton – I wanted to tell you the news," he replied. 

She furrowed her brows, "What news? What happened?" 

That same grin appeared onto his face again. "I'm back on the team!" he said, his tone excited and happy. 

Her jaw dropped, a smile appearing as she heard the news. "Oh my God! Congrats! I'm so proud of you!" she said, hugging him. 

Eren lifted her up and held her tightly against him. "Thank you but.. I gotta give you all the credit. You truly were the one who got me through this," he replied, slowly placing her onto the ground. 

Her cheeks grew hot from the contact. "It was no problem! I'm happy for you," she smiled. 

Eren rubbed the back of his neck. "Do you have class after this? I have an off period and I was wondering if you want to.. hangout?" he asked, nodding his head. 

She looked at her phone, she actually didn't have any afternoon classes that day. It worked out perfectly for them. 

"I actually don't.. do you wanna go back to mine?" she asked.

He chuckled, "Yeah, can we? My roommate doesn't really let me have girls over."

"It sounds good, mine is with her boyfriend right now. I have a free dorm," she said, looking down the hall for Sasha. 

Eren took her hand into his. "Let's go then," he said, smirking. 

The two both made their way to (Y/N)'s dorm, Sasha noticed the pair making their way out of the main campus building and she sent her a text telling her 'good luck ;)'. It made the two of them giggle. 

(Y/N) stood in front of her dorm door, she fished around her pocket for the key and unlocked it. Eren's chest was against her back and it made her stomach bubble with anticipation.

"Do you have practice later?" she asked, removing her shoes and tossing her bag onto the floor. 

Eren shut the door to her dorm. "Not until like.. six or seven, so we have time," he smirked, leaning down closer to her. 

Their noses brushed against each other before their lips connected into a kiss, God, did she miss his lips. They were soft and she could taste the faint hint of his mint chapstick, it suited him well. 

Eren's hands moved to her hips, bringing them closer to his own. He was starting to get excited, the blood began to all rush down to his dick and he was becoming needy. 

"Fuck, I missed your lips," he said in between kisses. "Sit on my lap"

Eren scooched back until his ankles hit the side of her bed, he plopped down and brought her onto him. Her thighs on either side of his legs, she looked so pretty like this to him.

"Shit.. Eren, touch me, please." she pleaded, her voice coming out almost like a whimper. 

Eren's hands explored her sides, his hands squeezed at the plush of her ass making her gasp. A chuckle rumbled from his throat seeing her reaction. 

"Who knew you were such a bad girl behind the scenes?" he said, kissing at her neck. 

She let out a breathy moan. "I'm only bad for you.." she replied, grinding her hips against his aching cock. 

Heat was pooling in between her legs from his kisses, Eren was so intoxicating and addicting. It took her breath away. 

"You're so hot, you have no clue what you do to me." 

She swallowed thickly, her pulse was beating against her neck and the room was growing hot. She needed Eren, she didn't care what way, she just wanted him. 

"W-Wait.. Eren," she said, pressing her fingers into his chest. 

He leaned away from her neck, a look of concern written on his features. "Shit.. did I make you uncomfortable? I'm sorry, I just got lost in the moment." 

She smiled, "No, you didn't, I just needed to ask you about something.." she replied. 

Eren placed his hands onto her thighs. "And that is?" 

Her hands went around his neck, twirling one of his strands of hair. "Do you actually like me? Or did you just say that because I helped you?" 

Eren furrowed his brows, "What? (Y/N), I do like you. I didn't say it because you helped me," he said.

She chewed her bottom lip. "I just don't know if you're being for real, I like you a lot Eren, I just don't want to look like a fool." she replied, looking down. 

Eren tilted her chin up to look into her eyes. "First off, I am being real with you. One thing I never do is lie to a girl, my mom raised me better and I could never hurt someone like you. You're sweet, funny, kind, drop-dead gorgeous, and you bring out a better side of me that I never knew I had. I like you a lot and I want you to be my girlfriend," he said, cupping her cheek. 

A smile crept onto her face. "You mean it?" she asked, nodding. 

"Hell yeah! I would never lie to you," he replied. 

She giggled a bit, "Well.. I'd love to be yours Eren. I like you a lot and I don't want the opportunity to slip by."

He put his arms around her waist. "I like you a lot too, I won't let you get away," he said, kissing her cheek. 

She leaned into his touch, a smile plastered onto her face. "Now.. where were we?" she asked with a smirk. 

Eren laughed a bit, "Oh? You like that huh? I never took you as the freaky type," he teased. 

She rolled her eyes, "You'd be surprised what I can do.. now, you deserve a little present for getting back on the team today." 

Eren raised his brows in surprise. "Oh? I like the sound of that, I'm interested," he smirked, bringing her closer to his face. 

She giggled, kissing him again. "You should be interested, now lay down so we can get this started," she replied, putting her hands onto his shoulders. 

"We're going to have a lot of fun, so get ready," Eren said, leaning towards her ear. 

A chill went down her spine before she smirked. "Oh? Is that right? Bring it on Jaeger," she teased. 

"Go put the scrunchy on the door." 

She grabbed the scrunchy off of her table, making her way towards the door. She placed it on the knob on the outside and closed it before rushing back to where Eren was sitting. 

"Done."

He smirked, she could see his eyes that were blown with lust. "Good, the only words I wanna hear from your mouth from now on are your pretty little moans when you're wrapped around my dick," he whispered. 

"Show me you can be a team player, Eren," she replied, looking into his eyes. 

He chuckled, looking at her with a grin. 

"I'll show you a team player alright."

tagging: @ererokii @eremiie @callmepromise @thicmitten @moomii-hime @luvrboykento @katsuhera @flam3bird @bell0214 @daughter-of-the-stars11 @chayauwu @lunamoonawatcher @ryan249057 @sofi-yeager @hugemommymilkers

[voiceless-terror]

would you consider writing me some precanon jongeorgie angst. bc i imagine they probably bonded over their interest in the supernatural but never. you know. actually talked about their personal experiences/trauma. just give me a little of both of them handling that trauma very badly while never admitting their closest brush with the supernatural. or something. idk.

Hello anon! I haven’t written Jon/Georgie yet, but this prompt was too good to pass up. Hope you like!

Being with Georgie was easy. It shouldn’t have been, not for him.

But it was.

She carried herself with the utmost surety: of her opinions, of her feelings, of her place in the world. It wasn’t arrogance, more like confidence and something else Jon couldn’t quite put his finger on. There was a blankness in her eyes sometimes. Not an absence of feeling but an absence of...understanding, maybe. Of empathy. Georgie saw the world in black and white; she knew exactly what was right and what was wrong. She was blunt. She bulldozed over others in conversations, pointed out flaws that polite society knew to overlook and not name. Jon admired it, as much as it made him cringe.

But it was complemented by her fierce capacity for loving, her clever, teasing words, the way her fingers ran through his hair when he was stressed. That black and white view could quiet his mind like no other- ‘yes, Jon’, ‘no, Jon.’  She listened to his incessant rambling, nodding in the right places and adding her own commentary. She filled out the crosswords in the morning, her brow furrowed in concentration, colorful nails tapping at the table. She never wanted help, stubborn to a fault. Her dark skin ethereal in the morning light, the way her voice was low and croaky before her coffee. The ease with which she said ‘I love you.’ 

He remembered the day she first approached him, all ripped-tights and smudged, smoky eyeshadow. Just leaned against the wall on that chilly fall night and snatched the cigarette right from his hand, an eyebrow flicked upward as she took a drag. He couldn’t get a word out, just silently took her phone when she offered it and typed in a number with shaking hands. A year later and she was still that same girl, though he’d seen her stash of manga and her weird cat memorabilia. She was whole, real. It was comfortable.

“I’m not really sure if I should go.” They’re curled up on the couch, Jon leaning into the warm bulk of her. “All of the others are going, though.”

“It’s not like you’re close, right?” Jon’s petting the Admiral, the new addition to the household fitting in seamlessly. “I’m sure she won’t take it as an insult. You can always say you’re busy. Who was it, again? Her father?”

“Yeah.” Georgie’s shifting against him, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. It’s odd- she’s not usually so awkward about these things. If there’s something she doesn’t want to talk about, she shuts it down right away. This seems...different. “And no, not close. But everyone else is going- they want to show their support, I guess. It would be awkward if I didn’t.”

Perhaps Georgie didn’t like funerals. You’re not supposed to, of course. Maybe it was a phobia, a perfectly valid one. Plenty of people don’t like to see the reminder of death laid out before them. Jon’s been to a few in his lifetime- for his Gran’s friend, for a distant cousin.

For his parents.

He doesn’t remember his father’s, he might not have even gone. He was only two at the time. He distantly remembers his mother’s; it wasn’t well attended, he sat in the front row with his Gran. He doesn’t even remember crying, if he even realized the thing in the box was his mother, dead and gone.

Needless to say, he understands Georgie’s sentiments. “You don’t have to go, not if...not if you don’t like it. Plenty of people are uncomfortable with death-” This was the wrong thing to say, for Georgie tensed instantly, leaning away from him.

“That’s not it at all,” she says, snatching her legs out from where Jon’s leaning comfortable against them. “It’s- it’s the performance of it all. All those people standing around a body, sniffling and moaning-”

Jon tried for levity, bristling at her tone. “People grieve, they need closure-”

Georgie snorted, this time shoving him away on the couch, the Admiral jumping from Jon’s lap at the movement. Her words became impassioned, as if Jon needed to know, needed to understand. “Cremate them, then! Say a few words, scatter the ashes, whatever. But having the body on display like that?” She gets up, starts to pace. Jon’s never seen her like this. “Paint the corpse, dress it up, pretend it’s a person still but it’s not, and everyone’s just standing there around it, praying over it and watching it like it’s not just rotting meat you put lipstick on-”

“Georgie!”

“I can’t stand it.” She stops in front of him, chest heaving and eyes aflame. “What’s so monumental about it? We live, we die- and her father was old, it was bound to happen sometime. No need to make such a to-do. It’s- it’s just disgusting, is what it is.” She didn’t continue, and an awkward silence permeated the room. 

Georgie got worked up about things on occasion. But the wild look in her eye, the total sense of incomprehension was...disconcerting. He agreed with her on certain points, of course, but the vehemence behind them- something wasn’t right. But it didn’t feel right to pry, either, and Georgie surely wouldn’t appreciate it.

“You could just say you’re busy, you don’t have to go,” he tries tentatively. She seems to deflate where she stands, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable. So he stands up, taking her hand in his. She lets him, but doesn’t meet his eyes. “But if you do, I can come with you. If you’d like.”

They stand in the very back row of the church after awkwardly greeting her grieving coworker. Georgie’s nails dig painfully into his arm, but he says nothing. They leave after ten minutes and stop at an Indian buffet on the way home. He silently watches her dig into a curry, his own untouched.

___________

When she first met Jon, she thought he was utterly out of her league.

It was her first semester back at school, she was an absolute fucking mess- drinking at all hours, barely present in her classes. She was out at the bar with a few new friends, most of whom she’d already forgotten the names of, and saw him standing there under a single flickering lamp, a cigarette dangling from long, slender fingers, raven hair back in a messy bun. Not many people could pull that off but he looked almost effortlessly cool (a thing she’d later find laughable for ever thinking) in his dingy leather jacket, his eyes far away and shadowed. She wondered what made him lose sleep. He had an odd, crooked little smile on his face and she was filled with liquid courage. The look he gave her when she took that cigarette out of his hand made her knees weak, and he took the proffered phone like he was only a little impressed. She sent a text to his phone and left, so embarrassed she went straight home.

He never did text her. To be fair, she never expected him to.

But she found him not two days later, hunched over a table in the campus library. She did a double take- surely this couldn’t be him, her impossibly handsome, silent figure who she surely dreamed up. But there was no mistaking that hair, those eyes. He was smaller, somehow diminished in his baggy jumper and wire-rimmed glasses, tapping a pencil against his textbook in irritation. Before she knew it she found herself picking up her phone, sending a text to the number with no name. And sure enough, his phone buzzed.

They went out on their first date a day later.

Jon was a ball of nerves, awkward and not at all like the man she thought she met that night. Somehow, the real Jon was better. She liked the way he blushed and stammered, the way a touch of her hand left him flustered and unable to speak. The way he could talk for hours about nothing at all, making even the most dull of subjects seem interesting with that voice of his- a voice surely meant for radio or T.V., something Jon himself endlessly scoffed at whenever she brought it up. They would sit in front of the telly for hours, marathoning ridiculous ghost hunting shows and pointing out the obvious fakes. Jon had a weakness for ghost stories, just like she did. “Most of them are absolute drivel, of course,” he said.

Most of them. 

They found comfort in each other, their small island of two, had no need for other company. Georgie had never been able to relate to someone so well, not since Alex, and Jon was never fond of crowds. Three months in he tried to break up with her, saying he could never give her what ‘she needed’ but she stopped that in its tracks- Georgie would be the one who decided what she did and didn’t need, thank you very much. She liked the way he leaned into her on movie nights, like her touch was the only thing that mattered. The sincerity in his eyes whenever he complimented her in that earnest, awkward way of his. He challenged her when he thought she was wrong, sometimes their fights lasted days. But they always came back to one another, each knowing they had no one else who understood them. Was it healthy? Georgie couldn’t answer that, she didn’t know herself. Jon probably didn’t either. But she loved him, in her way. 

That night they have a few glasses of wine, and Jon’s regaling her with some ridiculous story from his youth- apparently he was somewhat of a delinquent, wandering about at all hours. She laughs in delight, imagining a small, serious Jon climbing fences and evading the law. But suddenly Jon stops, his eyes going wide and his face growing ashen as he stares unblinking at the table.

It’s a spider- a tiny thing, really. Georgie’s been seeing a lot of them lately, and she really should be better about dusting the place. But Jon- Jon looks absolutely terrified, like the thing’s bound to leap out and kill him. She opens her mouth to tease, an instinctive reaction, but is instead startled by the loud smack of a hand against the table. Jon had smashed it certainly, but he lifts his hand and stares at it in wide-eyed horror, as if whatever he sees is nine times worse than the original thing.

“Jon-”

The chair hits the ground as he stumbles to her bathroom with heavy, labored breathing. She gets up slowly, approaching as quietly as possible to find him hyperventilating against the sink, the faucet on full blast as he washes his hand- scratches it, really. He’s mumbling frantically under his breath.

“...so many legs, get off, get off-”

She makes her presence known as not to startle him, approaching from the side and gently wrapping a hand around his arm once she sees him drawing blood. He starts anyway, his movements jerky and frenzied as he rips his arm away like her touch burns.

“It’s just a spider Jon,” she says softly, lifting her hands to show she means no harm. “It’s okay, you got it, it’s dead now-”

“But what if it isn’t!” He spits, slamming his hands on the marble rim of the sink and leaving bloody prints in his wake. He’s breathing so fast she thinks he might pass out. “What if it isn’t?”

She has no answer to that.

It takes about two hours, a hot shower and a stiff drink for him to calm down. They lay on the couch, watching something stupid, mind-numbing. She runs her fingers through his hair. He always liked that. She doesn’t say a word, he’s exhausted, and she knows from experience that pushing him will just lead to another fit like before. The next day, he brings her Hungarian by way of apology. They eat in a more comfortable silence, Jon gradually warming up as the evening goes on. Still, she doesn’t ask.

She spends the weekend cleaning her flat, standing on a chair and vacuuming at the cobwebs.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28440474

[phoenixblack89]

Fera Ingris

Chapter 2: Fuck My Life

So I skipped Vatos. Couldn't get it to work at all the way I wanted it to but did get this finished. Next chapter will probably be out in 2 weeks. It's done but needs editing.

Anyhooo. Enjoy. If ya wanna be tagged so ya don't miss please message me or comment on this! Also up on a03.

Tags: @lilythemadqueen @writingdeadangel @boondoctorwho @fandomsaremykryponite @browneyes528 @darylsgirl

Daryl was pissed. Beyond pissed. The whole rescue Merle plan was nothing but a shit show from the start. First finding Merle's hand and no body attached to it. And no meds for the girl. Then Glenn being nabbed. Then the Vatos and that whole carry on. He was not in the best mood when they discovered the van had been stolen and they had to run back to camp. 

"Stupid Merle. Why didn't ya wait asshole?" Daryl grumbled to himself, panting as he followed the three in front of him and hoped he got back before something else bad happened as the sky began to darken. 

*

The walkers had somehow snuck into camp. Shrieks from the children, cries of pain and the vicious sounds of heads being bashed in or blowed out by bullets was all she could hear as she tore through the woods to help. She had gone out to check the snares she and Daryl had left further out in the woods early this afternoon and had found a fair few with small rabbits or birds in them, which she had slung from a rope hanging from her shoulder. Each step causing the critters to bash against her ribs, her two headed axe bashing painfully into her back. The screams and noise grew as she got closer. 

She shoved her bow over her shoulder and whipped out her axe and slowed her running. She came to a dead stop as the growls of eight walkers echoed loudly around her. She'd run straight into a group of the undead bastards without realising. 

"Fuck my life" She muttered as she started swinging her axe at the nearest walker, swirling it over her head. 

*

"Come on! Hurry!" Rick yelled from in front of Daryl, their ears being assaulted by the sounds of the camp being attacked. Daryl shouldered his crossbow and accepted the rifle from Glenn as they ran up the hill. The chaos in front of him made his blood race as he started shooting at everything in camp, taking care not to hit any one living. His eyes scanning continously for the young woman he had begun to enjoy spending time with, hunting and not. 

In what seemed to Daryl as hours, but was only 15 minutes, the camp had been cleared. 

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as Rick thanked Shane for protecting his family as others grieved the loss of theirs. Daryl walked around camp quickly, eyes lingering on every corpse, his heart pounding his ribs in fear as he realised Phoenix was no where to be seen. 

"Shane!? Dale?! Where's Phoenix?! Ya see her anywhere!?" He demanded, storming up to the former police officer having checked every bloody body on the ground. Shane ran his hand over his head and shrugged his shoulders. 

"Nah man, last I saw her was this mornin' when I took over watch." Shane said quietly, his heart now worriedly gripped by fear for the Brit too. 

Jacqui slowly made her way over, hands shaking in shock still. 

"I saw her this afternoon, not long after we had to stop Jim. She said something about checking some snares or something. I wasn't paying much attention, I was busy. Maybe she's still out checking?" She said, grabbing hold of her crucifix around her neck in worry. 

Daryl grunted and began scanning the tree lines for his, possibly only, friend. He turned to speak to Rick about going to find her when a scream came from the woods. He glanced at Rick and took off in the direction of the woods. Rick, Shane, T-Dog and Glenn followed after him. 

*

5 down, 3 to go...

Phoenix thought her breath coming in short sharp gasps as she pivoted to face the next walker. Her axe gracefully span around the top of her head as she threw all her remaining strength into her swing. The sharp curve of the double blade head making cutting through flesh and bone like butter. She grunted as the head splattered into a waterfall of crimson and black. Her arms ached, her head was lightly throbbing with adrenaline and her energy was fading quicker and quicker. She span on her heels as growls grew around her once more. Another walker fell to her axe and sheer brutal anger. 

The last walker was formerly a large male, his stomach as wide as he was tall, making T-Dog and Shane look short; she tugged at the axe still inside the previous walker's skull but it wouldn't come. 

"Oh shit." She muttered, her fingers fumbling with the latch to separate her axe into 2 shorter and one handed weapons, the wound on her hand began to throb and pulse painfully. The walker got closer and she dropped her axe and slid to her knees, kicking out to knock the walker down. Unfortunately the beast's size worked against her and it fell onto her. She screamed as this was the first time in a long while she had been so close to one and without a weapon in her hand. 

Her hands quickly and harshly shoved the gnarled face and life ending teeth away from her body. Her arms felt like jelly holding the enormous weight off her. 

"You ugly fucker." She growled, arms already wobbling and shaking with effort. She needed to somehow roll the creature off her and get a hand free to pull her buck knife, her knife being painfully trapped between her thigh and the walker's massive stomach. She pulled one of her legs free and wrapped it around the waist of the heavy weight man and tried to flip them. It was no good. It was just too heavy for her slightly smaller frame to do. 

"Fuckkk" 

Her hands had begun to slip, her injured one burning fiercely and getting weaker faster, the wound beginning to ooze blood slowly. Her whole arm was burning, almost as if the flames were still licking along her skin, her chest ached from the weight, she could almost feel her ribs starting to crack as she struggled to breathe. She sighed and pushed with all her might. The teeth slowly getting closer and closer to her face as her vision started to swim towards the inky blackness. She turned her head and screwed her eyes up so she didn't have to see the disgusting pieces of rotten flesh trapped between its teeth, praying to a god she wasn't sure she still believed in that come the opening of her eyes she'd be reunited with her boys. 

A whoosh zipped through the air and the next second the full weight of the walker crashed down onto her far smaller and warmer body, pushing all the air out of her in a big gasp. She waited on baited breath for the feel of teeth taking a chunk out of her and it never came. She slowly opened one eye and realised the body on top of her had gone completely still. Footsteps near her had her twisting against the dead walker to face them, dark red-brown boots slowly came into sight as they walked closer and knelt down near her head. 

"Wha'd I tell ya 'bout comin' out 'ere on ya own?!" Daryl snarled down at her, before a half smile raised the corner of his lip with a small chuckle. She gave a short sharp laugh of her own before glaring at him.

"Ya cozy down there? Do ya need a moment alone wit' ya new beau?" 

"Screw you Dixon and get this fat fucker offer me!" 

Daryl smirked and stood up, using his foot to roll the walker off her. She slowly sat up, and took a huge gulp of air. Shane and Rick held their hands out to help her stand, she waved them away and stood. Her head throbbed and she swayed slightly to one side. Daryl put his hand on her arm to steady her and quietly regarded her. 

"You alright?" Glenn asked, his face pale as he looked around at the mess her frenzy had caused, blood splattered the trees and the ground, brain matter and bone fell in chunks on the tree trunks and the dry soil. She nodded at Glenn, giving Daryl a look and grabbing hold of her axe to tug it free. 

It refused to budge. 

Glenn, T-Dog and Shane began to make their way back towards camp. 

"Come on you sucker." She growled, grabbing the shaft of her axe with two hands and pulling. It finally flew free and she landed hard on her butt. Daryl barked out a laugh and shook his head. "Shut it Dixon!" She huffed and stormed ahead back to camp as the sun began to slowly rise over the treetop. 

"She's a fire ball that one. Might wanna watch yourself Daryl." Rick chuckled as the pair began to follow, Daryl gave him a look and raised his eyebrow in question. Rick shrugged and smiled slightly. "Just saying! Get too close to fire and you get burnt." 

Daryl ducked his head and smiled slightly to himself.

I wouldn't mind getting burnt by her, not at all he thought to himself, watching the girl's rear as she stormed in front of him. 

*

Phoenix stopped suddenly as camp came into her line of sight. 

So much blood and destruction. 

Carol, Sophia and Andrea were sobbing and clinging to their fallen loved ones. Tents were ablaze and being snuffed out by others. The Morales children clung to their mother and father as did Carl to Lori. Dale stood atop the RV on guard. 

"Oh fuck." 

Shane and the other members of camp were busy doing a headcount or putting the tents that were on fire out. She felt relieved Daryl had saved her once again but at what cost? How many more did they have to loose before everything stopped? Before the dead were actually dead and stayed that way? Until society and law and natural order was restored. Why would her god, a supposedly loving, kind god allow such a thing? Her heart felt heavy enough, this was such sheer cruelty and brutality. 

A hand clamped down on her shoulder and she jumped, her buck knife quickly leaving its sheath. Another grabbed the blade before it hit home and a grunt sounded behind her. 

"Stop tryin' t' gut me girl." Daryl hissed as he removed his hands from her. "Come on, we got grunt work t' do." He gave her a little nod and walked away. 

*

They'd worked through the morning to get some sort of order back into what was their safe little haven from the plague gripping the world. Sweat, blood and tears were falling to the ground with every step of every man and woman able to help with the clear up. Andrea laid her head bent low on her poor deceased sister's chest. Carol and Lori had settled the children down to sleep in the Grimes tent, Carol's being covered floor to roof in Ed's blood and other gory remains. 

What was left was being carried to the pile where Daryl and Phoenix were making sure they stayed dead, Daryl with a pick axe and Phoenix using her own custom made axe. Carol approaches the pair silently and almost immediately the pair stop their actions and watch her come to a slow halt. 

"I'll do it. He was my husband" her voice weak with the tremble of unshed tears, despite being an arse hole and abusive, Carol had loved Ed. 

The evidence of that being the little girl who slept soundly inside the Grimes tent despite the trauma of the night before. Daryl shares a quick glance at Phoenix, who watches almost cautiously and she gives a tiny almost unseen tilt of her head. Daryl handed Carol the axe he had been using and stands slightly back, closer to the other hunter and watches as Carol heaves the heavy weapon to her shoulders and with a cry throws it down into Ed's remains over and over again. 

The gore splattered around the former's head is almost a therapy for the small grey haired woman who had suffered so much at his hand. Carol is heaving in air as she stops and stands straight, wiping tears from her face as she silently hands Daryl the ax, as quickly as she came she leaves. 

Phoenix smiled bitterly and reached for the feet of Ed as Daryl took the ruined face under his arm, holding him by the shoulders. They carry him towards the fire where T-Dog and Glenn are burning the walkers bodies. Glenn looks up as they approach and stands. 

"No." He says quietly. Daryl and Phoenix drop Ed's body with matching grunts and wipe their arms across their faces.

"What?"

"We bury our dead." The Asian man says defiantly, pointing at Ed. Daryl raises his eyebrow and glares. 

"Don't matter. He ain't gonna feel it." Daryl huffs. 

"He's dead, don't matter what we do to the body. He's already burnin' in Hell, his fucking useless carcass should burn as well. Fucker deserves it!" Phoenix hisses, she agrees with Daryl. Who knows how long the virus or whatever it is that makes the dead rise would survive without a host. Last thing the world needs is it sitting in the ground and poisoning the land itself. 

"NO! We bury them. They're not monsters! We are people. People bury their dead. To honor them. If we don't... We might as well give up our humanity."  Glenn exclaims passionately, glancing around at the group, who had fallen silent and were watching the exchange. Phoenix glares down at the ground and walks away. Her head spinning and her hand throbbing again. 

Damn Merle, couldn't even get me some meds she thinks, her vision starting to grow blurrier by the second. She walks to her bike and sits down, leaning lightly against its dark green frame. Daryl joins her soon after. 

"Hey" 

She shields her eyes with her arm as the sun gives the older man a halo of light. "Hello angel" She smirks up at him and nods. 

"You okay?" He asked, shuffling from one foot to the other. A nervous habit she found quite funny as her mind thought of another she knew with the same habit. She sighed and ran her hand through her hair, it felt filthy and coated in grime and god knows what else. "Rick says we're gonna head t' the CDC."

"Hmm"

"I know we ain't the most... We ain't friends or anythin'" 

"Oh DD! Here's me thinking we were!" She laughed lightly, as he sat down on his haunches beside her. He gave a slight chuckle at her as she nudges his leg and he lands on his backside beside her. She gives him a small side smile and gets one in return.

"Yea maybe." He shuffles around anxious about what he's about to say next. "I ain't sure but thought... Maybe... If ya... If ya want... Ya could ride wit' me, in the truck." He chews his lip and waits for the rejection he's sure is coming. "'s okay if ya don't." 

"Actually, I think it might be for the best Dixon." His eyebrows shoot off into his hair at the quiet mummer he hears. "I ain't feeling too hot." She says as her head feels heavier and her eyes grow dimmer despite the bright light in front of her. She turns her head to the man beside her and he becomes a blur of shapes as she loses consciousness. Daryl quickly grabbing her before her head made contact with the ground and laying it across his lap, worried beyond anything, his fingers running over her arm gently as he chewed his lip to bleeding point. 

*

Groans fill the cab of the faded blue truck as she begins to stir. An arm is around her waist and is pulling her into the cab. 

"Wah?!" 

"Shh girlie. Let me get ya settled." Daryl says quietly, sitting her on the bench seat and putting the seat belt over her shoulder. "Ya passed out."

"Huh." She replies, feeling sleep call her backwards once again. "My bike... Tent..." 

"I got it."

She mumbles something that Daryl is sure sounded an awful lot like Murph before gently closing the door. He sighs and walks over to T-Dog. The large man looks up as he nears and nods. 

"She okay man?" Daryl nods, eyes darting to the RV where Jim lays dying from the bite wound. "Her hand is getting worse ain't it?" 

"Merle was gettin' 'er some meds. Didn't see any when y'all came back." 

"Don't worry man. We're gonna be at CDC soon. They'll have something they can give her."

"I ain't worried. She's a fighter. She faced worse and got through it." 

Both men are quiet for a while, Daryl remembering that awful day that earned the girl the huge cut along her eye and the fear she felt around everyone. "Gimme a hand wit' her stuff will ya?"

"Course man." 

The pair quickly gather the bags strapped to the back of her dirt bike and throw them into the rear of the cab along side her bow and axe. Daryl wonders why she kept the large duffel bags on the bike all the time and why it weighed so much but it wasn't his place to go through it so he ignored it and returned to her tent. He felt a touch guilty about being in her safe space while she wasn't with him, especially knowing he was about to touch her belongings. He grabbed the open duffel and began to pack it with the pile of clean clothes beside her bed roll. He blushed as some of it fell and a lacy purple bra and panties set fell onto the ground near his feet. 

Damn, ain't gonna be able t' look at her t' same, not that ya ain't been lookin' already he thought as he stared at the delicate items. He felt his cock twitch the longer he stared and quickly grabbed them and stuffed them into the bag. His cheeks still slightly red as T-Dog opened the flap. 

"You got another chain on your truck?" 

"Yea, let me just finish in here. Then we'll get her bike up beside Merle's" he ducked his head more to hide his embarrassed and slightly turned on face from the man, grabbing the lantern and boots from around him. Shoving them into the bag quickly, T-Dog entered and began to roll the blankets and sleeping bag up. The pair made quick work of packing Phoenix's tent up, even taking it down and rolling it up. It and her bags thrown into the back of the cab next to Daryl's own scant belongings. The bike proved to be easier moved than the pair thought, it sat perfectly in the small gap between the two walls of the truck bed and Merle's monstrous Triumph, secured down with a long metal chain that also held Merle's down. Daryl quickly checked nothing of his or the sleeping girl's had been left scattered about before turning to his own tent.

*

The group gathered near to the RV as they neared readiness to leave. Phoenix sat in Daryl's truck, quiet and dizzy, her head was hurting something awful and she could barely stay awake. She could see the group talking and saying goodbye to the Morales family but couldn't hear them. After a few minutes Daryl stormed up to the truck, climbed into the bed and russled around near Merle's bike before climbing in beside her. He put a hand gently on her shoulder holding out a bottle of water. She gave him a sleepy smile in return, her hand shaking as she took it. He held it steady as she took a sip. 

"Here."

He fished an orange prescription bottle in her direction, his face starting to heat up. She took the pills from him and balanced the water between her knees. Quickly reading the label she smiled. Painkillers. She struggled with the child proof lock on the cap for a few minutes before Daryl reached over and helped her. He slid 2 pills out and dropped them in her hand. 

"Don't tell the others about those. Don't want 'em comin' t' me asking fer meds fer a paper cut." He growled harshly. She nodded and swallowed the meds with a mouthful of water. Daryl looked on as she closed the bottle of water and her eyes. The truck moved slowly out of the quarry with the rest of the convoy, horns calling out as the Morales family went a different way.

*

That night, the convoy pulled into the side of a quiet wooded road and made plans. Phoenix dozed in the truck while others stood watch. Jim's moans coming quietly from inside the RV put everyone on edge. No one complained of their hunger but they all felt it. The children especially. Daryl stood in the truck bed, crossbow raised as his eyes scanned around. Occasionally kneeling down to peer through the rear window at the pale girl in his truck. He and Merle had both decided she was a Dixon, not by blood or marriage but by deed. She had the Dixon spirit and like hell was he gonna let her go. 

She's a fighter, baby brother but she needs us. She's our baby sis now, got it? We gotta protect 'er. Merle's voice said in his head as he turned to look at her once again. 

She's more to you than a sister Daryl, just admit it t' yaself he thought a small smile on his face as she hugged his winged vest closer to her chest. He'd given it to her as the late summer wind began to chill the inside of the truck. He sighed and stood once more, knowing even if he admitted his feelings he couldn't be with her. He wasn't good enough and she didn't see him that way. Even if she did, the scars would disgust her the second she saw them. She deserves someone who could be everything he wasn't. He was worthless and she was worth so much more. 

Don't mean ya can't look, baby brother. 

Daryl chuckled at that and looked once again to the girl, nodding to himself. 

Ain't no harm in lookin' he mused, looking forward to the girl waking up properly. 

*

The horn of the RV honked loudly in front of Daryl's truck and Phoenix raised her eyebrow in question. She felt slightly better after the sleep but still weak, she hopped out of the truck and felt her knees almost give out. She held on to the side of the truck slowly making her way to the rest of the group. Jim was laid against a tree a little bit up a bank at the side of the road and seemed to want to be left behind. His face was pale and sweaty, under his eyes darkened with sickness. 

Daryl came to her side and wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her up the bank to say goodbye. She sank to her knees and placed her hand on top of Jim's. 

"Hey. I can... If you want... I got a silencer. It'll be quick. I'll sent you on your way with my family prayer." She whispered to him, Daryl waiting at the bottom of the bank with Rick and Shane. Jim smiled tightly as another cramp ripped through him, he coughed up a little blood and Phoenix grimaced. 

"No. It's your corrupt we claim, remember?" He laughed, taking her hand in his as Phoenix's face dropped. 

How did he know? 

"How - ?" 

"I saw you. I was in Boston that day, he'd killed my cousin." He smiled slightly, gripping her hand. "I know why you didn't say anything... I'm glad you did it... And don't give up on this group, protect them, they need you. That's your new mission." He burst into a coughing fit and tears dropped down her face as she shuffled away.

She stood slowly and wobbled over to Daryl, he reached an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. The only comfort he could offer. He felt awkward and uncomfortable but he was trying. He felt angry at Jim for causing her tears for a guilt inducing moment but he knew it was natural to seeing someone die. Rick offered Jim a gun which he declined and Jim met Daryl's eyes, Daryl nodded with a grim smile and lead the girl back to his truck. He helped her climb in and secured the seat belt around her as she silently cried. He gave her shoulder a squeeze before getting into the driver's seat and following after the RV. The girl passing out soon after. 

*

Phoenix was thankful when her head started to clear and her energy returned as the huge Atlanta skyline began to grow closer and closer. Daryl chewed his thumb, another nervous habit it seemed he shared with the man she'd once known. He glanced at her as the sky began to darken. 

"Feel better?" 

 "Yea, sorry for going dark on you back there." She whispered, sitting up straighter to glance through the rear window at her bike. "Thanks for taking care of my stuff. Appreciate it." 

She smiled at him as the RV started slowing in front of them. The cars all slowed down and stopped beside a road. In front of them was the CDC, its huge glass exterior mostly undamaged except for the expected gore. The barricades and army trucks had been coated with bodies of the fallen soldiers. 

She raised herself to her knees and leaned over the seat, grabbing her bow and quiver and throwing them over her shoulder. She climbed out and glanced around as the group began to move towards the building. Rick reached the door and shook it.

Daryl and Phoenix stood side by side, glancing at the shadows that darkened with every minute as the sun began to go down. She pointed towards the barricade as walkers began to approach. She nocked an arrow and let it fly, killing the walker with ease. Her blood pounding as adrenaline kicked it. She blocked the noise of the group out and focused on protecting them. Daryl also shooting at the walkers as the group got louder and louder. Three more walkers fell to her arrows when she felt Daryl tug her arm and try to pull her away. 

She spun suddenly as Rick yelled. 

"You're killing us! You're killing us!" 

Shane began pulling Rick away as a groan of the shutters sounded loudly in the dead city. A blinding light causing the whole group to stop and stare.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER *** NEXT

[sofreddie]

Need To Breed - Sam Version

Summary:  After being hit with a mating spell, Sam makes his way home to his girl with an urgent need.

Characters: Sam x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, Breeding Kink, Mating Spell (implied/mentioned), PWP

Word Count: 1,920

A/N: I’m in a mood...

Dean’s Version

My Masterlist

Sam took off in a different direction, looking every bit the Hunter as he followed his new found instincts in the direction of Y/N scent. He paused by several rooms, sniffling lightly at the air, and continuing through the halls. He slowed his steps as he neared the Dean Cave, the scent centered in the room.

“Y/N?” he said, stepping into the room and flicking on the overhead lights, “You in here?” he cooed, knowing she had to be. His veins were pumping with adrenaline from the hunt and need for his mate.

Y/N clenched her knees to her chest, balled up and sat in a small corner closet of Dean’s man cave. She held a hand over her mouth, praying to Chuck that Sam never even noticed this closet even existed.

Sam’s eyes flitted about the room as his nose was turned up, lightly sniffing at the air. His eyes locked onto a door on the far end of the room and a growl emitted from his throat. He strode purposefully towards the door, all his senses locked onto Y/N within.

“Babygirl…” he cooed, his hand landing on the knob and turning it to slowly open the door. The light poured into the closet and Sam’s heart broke a little at the sight of Y/N curled up in the bottom of the small closet, “What’re you doin’ in there?” he asked with a devilish smirk.

Y/N felt her stomach roll almost painfully at the sight of that smirk. She’d never seen him look like that, and she was sure it was the spell, not him. She slowly rose to her feet and dared to look him in the eye, “Just the spell,” she said - more to herself than him. Before anyone could even blink she swiftly grabbed an armful of coats and launched them at Sam, quickly taking off as he got tangled in them.

Sam laughed as he got untangled and watched Y/N racing for the door of the room. He slowly turned and walked after her at a leisurely pace, smiling to himself, “You thought I wouldn’t want that with you?” he carried on, following her scent that was like a ghostly trail through the halls, “And I know you want it too…”

Yeah, lets try hiding in the one place Sam and Dean know every fucking detail of!! Y/N cursed herself internally as her legs carried her aimlessly down the halls. She knew Sam wasn’t far behind, walking like a cocky son of a bitch. She knew she was being toyed with, hiding wasn’t an option now. She came to a halt upon reaching the war room, panting for breath as she put the large map table between her and the casually sauntering Sam. “You’re the one who called me,” she panted for breath from across the table, “You wanted my help to fix this…”

Sam emerged from the hallway with a winning smirk. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and ankles casually, “It’s a mating spell,” he explained, “Doesn’t affect my emotions, just makes me need to breed you,” he said, starting to stalk towards the opposite side of the table from her and leaning against its edge, “I’ve thought about it,” he admitted as his eyes raked over her hungrily, “I thought of everything before I finally decided I couldn’t hold out any longer.”

“Stop it,” she breathed - trying to come across as a warning - cheeks pinkening as her stomach rolled with nearly every single damn word he said.

“It’s the spell,” Y/N pleaded, slowly moving back as Sam rounded the table, “I-if we…and the spell stops…y-you’ll…”

“I’ll what?” Sam urged, slowly moving around the edge of the table but keeping his eyes locked with hers, “You think I’ll change my mind? I wanted you before we even went on this hunt.”

“I want you too,” she whined in admittance, her steps gradually slowing to a stop, “I don’t want you to…regret me.”

“If you really feel that way, we can go get those pills in the morning,” he offered, still slowly approaching her, trying not to startle her away, “And if the morning comes and you don’t want that, I’m good with that too,” he said with a heavy breath, now standing in front of her and itching to pull her into his arms, “Just let me have you.”

He had all the right answers, said all the right things and was fucking fighting a powerful curse right in front of her. For her. “No pills,” she breathed, pimples rising on her arms.

A hungry growl came forth as his lip twitched into a snarl. His hand came up and cupped the back of her head as he crashed his lips into hers with a moan. As soon as she responded, his hunger grew. He gripped her hips and turned her quickly, lifting her and setting her on the map table as he stood between her parted legs and attacked her mouth once more.

Sam’s mouth devoured hers as he pressed Y/N tightly to him. His hands wandered down her sides, squeezing, as he rutted himself against her blatantly. His hands found the waist of her pants and he began unfastening them, “Need you so much right now,” he admitted with a shaky breath. Once her pants were undone, he pulled her to her feet and spun her around, placing her hands on the edge of the table as he abruptly rendered her nude from the waist down.

“Sam!” she squeaked in surprise at the sudden movement, whining as he rutted against her folds, making her legs tremble in anticipation.

“I’ll go slow later, I promise,” Sam breathed out as he notched himself at her entrance with a groan, “But I need you so bad it hurts,” he groaned, slowly sinking into her wet heat inch by inch until his hips were flush with her ass. He dropped his head to her back, his hands squeezing her hips as he gave her a moment to adjust to his size.

She threw her head back with a long loud moan, nails digging and scratching into the wood of the table as his cock stretched and filled her. Her hips automatically pushed back into him and wiggled eagerly as her eyes rolled, “Holy fuck you’re huge,” she whined out blissfully.

He hummed in agreement, his hands rubbing soothingly up and down her sides, before he slowly stood up. His hands found her hips again and he squeezed, “Ready?”

At Y/N nod and another wiggle of her hips, Sam smirked. He tightened his hold, withdrawing his hips and slamming hard into Y/N with a grunt, causing her hips to press against the edge of the table. He quickly increased his pace as one hand trailed firmly up her spine before tangling in her hair and lowering her body onto the table as he leaned over her.

She was damn near helpless under his hold, and she fucking loved it - c’mon there’s no denying it. Every pound he gifted, she gave a loud moan in return, her eyes clenched shut as he introduced her to a whole new world of pleasure with a sprinkle of delicious pain. He was brutal, and that edge was incoming brutally fast. “Saaam,” she whined, trying to push up on her arms, “Fuck I’m gonna cum…”

“That’s right, Baby,” he urged her on, maintaining his pace, “Cum on my cock,” he demanded. She came hard, squeezing him like a vice and Sam groaned, continuously pumping to work her through her high. He slowed his movements as she came down, panting. He leaned over her, kissing her shoulder gently as his hand trailed down the outside of her thigh. He lifted her leg, bringing it onto the table and her knee into her side, her other leg still standing, “Now you can open up for me,” he purred into her ear, before resuming his brutal pace, his cock slamming into her cervix hard.

Sam rode her hard, his hips slapping obscenely into her ass with every thrust. He growled, nipping and sucking marks all over her shoulders and back. His stamina was un-fucking-believable. He shifted slightly, slowing his thrusts as he felt them both getting close to falling over that edge. He took one of her hands in his and placed it over her lower stomach as he slowly moved, “Feel that?” he asked her in a breathless and husky tone, “That’s me inside you.”

And yes, she could definitely feel it. She gasped breathlessly, skin glistening with sweat as words became something alien.

He continued talking in her ear as he thrust lazily within her, barely pulling out of her body as he pressed flush against her, holding her close. “I’m gonna cum right here,” he breathed out, still holding her hand, “Fuck my baby into you,” he said with a hard thrust, “You want that?”

Would you look at that, she suddenly acquired a word back into her vocabulary, “Please…” she begged with a whine, using the last of her stamina to push back and meet him, “Sam please…” - okay, two words.

Sam abruptly pulled out, leaving her on the edge once more. He quickly spun her around and laid her back on the table, wrapping her legs around him as he leaned over her and slid back deep inside her, his eyes fixed on her face.

“I want you to look at me when I cum inside you,” he said, capturing her lips as he picked up his pace. As they grew closer to that edge once more, Sam pulled just far enough away to lock eyes with her as he silently mouthed ‘Cum’.

A practically pornographic wail burst from her as he sunk back in. She could feel her eyes fighting to clench closed as her mind turned white and she fucking came haaard.

Sam growled like a beast as she clenched around him. All of his muscles went taught, his skin red, as his hands tangled almost painfully in her hair. He pulsed deep within her, his body rocking gently against her with each wave of cum that shot forth. His muscles finally relaxed - and twitched - as he came down, finally taking a stuttering breath as his head rested against her collarbone.

She let him fall there, her head dropping back on the table as she panted heavily to catch her breath, small whines and moans popping from her lips as her orgasm slowly flittered out. She invented a new phrase in her head, this heavy headed come down now being known to her as a Cum Coma.

“Holy…” she tried to speak, giving in halfway through.

Sam lifted his head, wincing as his cock twitched another small load. Gone was Sam the sex God, now replaced by the caring, gentle Sam, “You okay?” he asked, cupping her face as he looked down at her.

“Walking might be a struggle for the next freaking month,” she breathed a small giggle.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked worriedly, the hand that was cupping her face shaking her lightly as her head lolled with a dopey grin.

“Only in good ways,” she snickered, shuffling to try and sit up with a wince, “I need…I need to not be half naked in the war room.”

Sam laughed, helping the both of them back into their clothes, before scooping Y/N into his arms like he had a few nights ago, “I gotcha,” he smirked at her, pecking her cheek sweetly.

[wintervvidow]

apricity one-shot: the time florence got shot

apricity - the warmth of the sun in winter

warnings: gunshot wound, blood mention, mature language

pairing: bucky barnes x female oc

word count: 2,027

A/N: apricity will have a series of installments of one-shots to give in-depth glimpses of bucky, florence, and their story! this is one. thank you for reading! feedback is welcome!

MASTERLIST

Bucharest, Romania. 1990

Eight months into the year-long recon mission.

Florence wasn’t a stranger to the searing pain of a gunshot wound or the stinging radiation of a stab wound. She’s taken too many bullets to count, patching herself up in dingy bathrooms, dark back alleys, and now a safe house in Romania.

She stumbled through the barren apartment leaving a trail of blood, the Soldier nowhere to be found. She pushed the bathroom door open with bloody hands, her footing messily stumbled to the sink as she felt hot blood ooze down her hip. She tore off her tactical vest the bullet had managed to go through and peeled the sticky shirt off of her abdomen, the blood making the fabric stick to her skin uncomfortably. Gritting her teeth, she swiped an alcohol pad up the trail of blood, the movement ending at the entry wound.

The bottle of liquor was in front of her on the sink, leftover from the soldier when he had gotten stabbed the week before. She took the bottle in her hand, the glass smearing with blood, and shakily twisted the cap off and taking a long swig before she poured it on the wound. Florence yelped in pain, biting her shirt to quiet her moans of pain and to keep it out of her way. She places the bottle back down on the sink, the glass meeting the porcelain with a clink. 

She fishes the tweezers out of the first-aid kit and runs them under the tap, the blood loss not giving her the energy to properly clean them. A deep breath in and then the metal enters the wound, blindly poking and prodding her flesh to try to find the slug of the bullet. Florence bites down on the blood-soaked fabric of her shirt so hard she’s afraid she’ll fracture her own jaw, her hands shaking so uncontrollably that she drops the tweezers into the sink. The shirt drops from her mouth as she leans against the porcelain, catching her reflection in the mirror as she drops her head and takes a deep breath in, closing her eyes.

Something shuffles behind her, she lifts her head slowly to look in the reflection of the mirror behind her. The soldier looms in the doorway, his broad figure taking up the entire space of the door as his eyes scanned the bloody mess of the bathroom. If Florence wasn’t so delirious from the blood loss, she would have noticed the panicked rise and fall of his chest or the mixture of concern, relief, and anger swimming in his eyes as he finally took in her slumped form. 

The soldier enters the cramped bathroom without a word and picked the bloody tweezers from the floor. His hand meets Florence’s elbow, gently guiding her to sit on the closed toilet lid, ker skin was paling by the second from blood loss. Bucky reaches in front of her and grabs the whiskey, pouring it over the tweezers. He fishes around the first-aid kit for what, Florence doesn’t know, too busy trying to keep herself upright and not falling onto the floor. The last thing she wanted was for the soldier to carry her out of here like she was helpless.

The soldier found what he was looking for, busying himself with threading a needle to stitch up the wound once he got the bullet out. He hid the shake of his hands well, swallowing down the anxiety that settled in his bones. The thought of something happening to Florence sparked a fire inside if him that would never die out, the embers would always be lit even if it was only a dying ash. Bucky has killed for much less, he wouldn't bat an eye to do it for Florence, it would be the only time he would wash blood from his hands and not end up in a fit of panic. The length Bucky would go for her knew no end, he'd go to the ends of the earth. 

He laid out gauze and pads along the sink edge, much more prepared than Florence. He could probably patch up a bullet wound in his sleep, only if he ever did sleep. Florence tiredly watches Bucky as he turns toward her with tweezers in hand, his stormy eyes never meeting hers and his jaw clenching angrily and shoulders tensing, his body rigid. The girl didn’t have the energy to indulge in his anger, she didn’t understand why he was even angry in the first place.

Bucky set the tweezers down on the edge of the sink, his hands dropping down to his belt, fingers working at the buckle. Florence watched in confusion as he undid his belt, metal and flesh fingers sliding it through the belt loops of his dark jeans. He wrapped the leather around his hand before sliding it off and motioning the folded leather towards her mouth, nodding for her to bite down on it. 

He picks up the tweezers again and kneels in front of her on one knee, looking at her in a silent apology before he plunges the metal into her flesh. Florence bites down on the leather, eyes screwing shut as she balls her hands up in fists in her lap. Bucky continues to dig, the tweezers hitting a particularly tender spot, Florence’s hand flying to his shoulder and clutching his navy blue shirt, causing the man to pause for a moment and take a deep breath. The tweezers finally catch on something solid, Bucky pulling the bullet out quickly and pushing gauze to the wound as he drops the blood-soaked bullet into the sink, blood splattering across the ivory porcelain.

Florence drops the belt from her mouth, watching as it falls the ground between her and Bucky, who still kept pressure on the wound. 

Bucky reaches across himself to grab the needle, finally speaking, “Hold the gauze.” His tone is cold and sharp, a night and day difference from the look in his eyes that expressed that he was scared and worried. Florence could usually read him like a book but now that book had slammed closed and locked itself away. 

Florence places her hand over his as she takes over holding the gauze, Bucky sterilizing the needle with the remaining liquor in the bottle. He'd have to buy another tomorrow. 

He turns back, fingers prying at her hand to remove the bloody padding as he began to stitch the wound closed, not bothering to warn Florence of the sting of the needle, this was her payback for making him feel like his entire world was ending at the fear of losing her. Only she didn't know that.

Time passed slowly as Bucky stitched her up, Florence gaining more awareness as she watched Bucky’s jaw tick, “I didn’t ask you to help me, so why are you mad? Is it the mess?” Blood was everywhere leading to and in the bathroom, she remembered their first month in the apartment, the soldier had yelled at her about her leaving a dish in the sink, something about not leaving a trace that they had been there. She called him paranoid then and she immediately regretted it when the look on his face read like she had just slapped him. 

The soldier clipped the thread and started a new stitch, shaking his head, “No.”

Florence huffed, wincing as the needle plunged through her flesh again, sharp and pulling, “Then what’s wrong with you?”

“You should have been more careful.” Bucky spoke with a clipped tone, not daring to look up at her. If he did, he's afraid he'd crumble right on the floor in front of her. 

If breathing didn’t feel like her sternum was going to crack, Florence would have laughed, “Are you kidding? You got stabbed last week and I didn’t say a word.” The soldier had entered the apartment at 3 in the morning clutching his side with one hand, a bottle of whiskey in the other and a sour scowl on his face. Florence sat awake on the sofa, she was waiting for him to get home, her anxiety growing as the clock continued to tick, and watched as he stumbled to the bathroom and locked the door. She didn't follow but heard the muttered curses through the thin peeling walls. She didn't sleep at all that night. 

Bucky huffed as he finished up the final stitch, “That was different.”

Anger pooled in the girl’s eyes, “Please explain to me how that is different. Enlighten me.”

Blue finally met green, both staring at each other intensely, “It’s different because you are the one that got shot. You should have let me handle the mission today.”

This time Florence did laugh, ignoring the searing pain it sent through her entire body, “You know what? Fuck you. We were sent here to do a mission, that’s what I was doing. Do not treat me like I’m glass.”

Bucky immediately regretted partaking in this argument, he should have stayed quiet, otherwise, right now his feelings wouldn’t be bubbling to the surface, “I never said you were glass. I should have gone with you, protected you.”

All bets were off, Florence’s nerves were fried- frayed and raw and he had just rubbed salt in the wound, “Protected me?! I don’t need protecting! I got shot, end of story.” This conversation sparked a fire in Florence, everything she had been bottling up threatening to explode, taking multiple casualties in its path with no mercy. They were both going to drown in the emotion flooding the air between them. 

That was Bucky’s final straw, his jaw ticked, eyes widened and suddenly he was yelling, voice bouncing of the confined walls of the dingy bathroom, “No! Not end of story! When I walked in, I saw a trail of blood and thought the worst, I thought I had lost you, Florence!”

Time froze, Florence’s brain malfunctioning as Bucky’s words sunk in, “You know my name.” All eight months, he called her soldier, never anything else. She silently prayed that eventually he'd recognize her, give her a dose of before, before all of this, and now it was finally happening. She watched as the soldier stood in front of her, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth parted like he had just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

The two stared in silence before he spoke again, his tone significantly quieter as it trembled and shook with emotion, “I'll forget my own before I ever forget yours." Tears brimmed his eyes, "I remembered it last week. Along with a few more things I can’t place.”

Florence had been off the ice considerably longer than Bucky had before this mission, her memory had already come back to her in chunks. All of him. All of Bucky. Everything.

“What-,” Florence gulped, “What things?” Florence pleaded internally that it wasn’t what she was dreading. 

"A ring? All I remember was that it was emerald. I never see the girl I give it to, it’s too blurry. And a pregnant woman? That one is the most confusing.”

Oh fuck.

Fuck.

Florence now had a vendetta with the universe. 

Florence weighed her options of telling him the truth or lying to him, opting to tell him the truth. She settled on only one truth today, she couldn’t handle the other one, not now, “The ring was mine. You and I were together before this. We were engaged, you proposed right before you left for England in the war.”

Bucky only looked at her, a distant look in his eyes, “Oh.” That’s all he had to say, choosing to remain silent as he walked out of the bathroom, leaving Florence to fight the demons herself.

She twisted the lock on the door, slid down to the ground, and sobbed, not caring that Bucky could definitely hear her.  Screaming at the universe or any higher being, she begged them to listen, pleading for something, anything. Death, escape, to wake up from this nightmare. 

None of it was fair.

That night, Bucky and Florence slept through the night in the same bed for the first time, finding temporary peace in each other’s arms. 

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed!

Tag list: @tanyaherondale @lilyviolets @jckie94 @g-mayunot @geek-and-proud @ginger-swag-rapunzel

[ahsbitch]

Something Strange In The Air (Part 2)

Word Count: 2544

Summary: In the aftermath of your...incident with Michael, you’re still tumbling to figure out what you’re doing. 

Warnings: It’s probably bad idk, oral (male receiving), face fucking, degradation, Mean!Michael & Being Mean To Michael, blue balls, waxing poetic, lots of cursing (as always), idk i can’t think of any others 

A/N: Sorry this is really short and sorry it took so long I’m in college so I’ve been busy and I was writing a oneshot for a different fandom which took some time, the next chapter will have more plot to it and stuff I promise, my apologies for shitty writing and being a super slow writer, I’m doing my best I promise. As always, comments (even just in the tags) are always ultra appreciated!!!!!

Mini Tags: @wroteclassicaly @1-666-coven @michaellangdonstanaccount uhhh there are others but i can’t remember if i forgot to tag you i’m sorry pls remind me 

ALSO I PUT IN THE KEEP READING THING BUT IT REFUSES TO WORK SO SORRY ABOUT THAT

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was poetry flashing through your mind.

Some say the world will end in fire

Bits and pieces. 

Death, be not proud

You couldn’t get him off your mind. 

Doing a man’s work, though a child at heart 

Couldn’t get your dream off your mind. 

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams 

The way he had looked at you, in it, how he had held your hand.

He kindly stopped for me-

Michael often called you little witch,

Leave my loneliness unbroken 

But he had never called you his little witch, as he had in the dream. 

There will be time to murder and create

He was beautiful, almost angelic in appearance, you had to admit.

From what I’ve tasted of desire

And he pulled you in, in spite of how hard you tried to ignore it

I can no longer remain away from you

It was almost disgusting, how much you thought about him. 

Curse, bless, me now with your tears, I pray

There was something about him that frightened you.

One short sleep past, we wake eternally

A lot about him that frightened you, actually. 

A waking on a morn

“Y/N,” Cordelia spoke, and you could tell from her tone that this wasn’t the first time she’d said your name, “Are you with me?” 

Shit, you’d gotten distracted. 

You’d been called to a meeting in Cordelia’s office, made it to one of the chairs, and immediately spaced out. 

You hadn’t really seen Michael in almost a week, nothing more than passing glimpses in the halls and quick pulses of his energy in the air. You’d been avoiding him. Or maybe he’d been avoiding you. Honestly, you couldn’t remember. You hadn’t spent a single night in your bedroom, instead floating around to parties and going to the swamps to practice your magic rather than spend time in the study room. 

Fuck, things were getting complicated.

“I’m with you,” You smiled cautiously at her, “I’m sorry.” 

She smiled back, something you couldn’t quite determine just behind her eyes. Concern, of course, her whole aura was clearly very concerned, but something else, and then she was speaking, her voice as calm as ever, “Don’t be sorry. Are you feeling okay?” 

Of course not.

“Of course I am!” 

“Try again,” Her hands were folded neatly on her desk, and you dropped your gaze to look at them, Cordelia’s words making you feel a strange sense of shame, “I’m a little worried about you, Y/N.” 

Your ears were burning, your heart jumping wildly in your chest, “I’m sorry.” 

She sighed, shaking her head, “Don’t be sorry. Just... what’s going on with you? What’s going on between you and Michael Langdon?”

Shit.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t been sleeping in your room, or studying in the house,” Cordelia looked at you strangely, and you held your breath, “Have you still been fighting?”

She didn’t know.

Thank fuck. 

“Yes,” You responded, perhaps a little too quickly, “Yes, we have. We just can’t seem to agree on anything.”

Not entirely untrue.

She nodded sympathetically, and you were relieved to feel that she believed that was it, “I’m sorry. I feared something like this might happen. But Y/N, you need to return to your room.You can’t be out every night, and you can’t do all of your studying in the swamps. You’re still a student here. You have to be present, at least sometimes.”

“Okay,” Nodding, you worked on getting your breathing fully back to normal, “I’ll be back in my room tonight.” 

“Good,” Cordelia reached out and squeezed your hand gently, “I’m proud of you, Y/N. You are a powerful witch, and a good woman. I believe in you.” 

Not able to make yourself respond, you simply flashed her a smile and bolted for the door, blinking back tears.

Fuck, she’d bee so disappointed if she knew the truth. 

You were barely out of the office when the door to a closet opened and someone tugged you inside, slamming it shut. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What the fuck, Michael?” You snapped, blinking into the darkness. 

Michael’s hand clamped over your mouth as he let out a growl, “Be quiet, little witch.” 

You worked your mouth until you managed to clamp your teeth onto the skin of his palm, biting as hard as you could. 

“Fuck,” He hissed, jerking away from you, “That hurt!”

“Good,” Glaring, you reached for the cord on the light and tugged on it, the weak bulb flickering overhead, “What the fuck?”

Glowering at you in the dim light, Michael crossed his arms, “What did Cordelia want?”

“None of your business.”

“I’m pretty sure it is,” Shaking his head, he scoffed at you, “It was about me, wasn’t it? Does she know?” 

It was childish to play dumb, and you knew that, but you were doing it anyway, “Does she know what? Why would we want to talk about you?” 

It took only a single step for Michael to back you against the wall, pinning you there with his hips, "Don’t even bother with that shit. Answer the fucking question.” 

You shoved at his chest, although even you had to admit that it was a halfhearted push. His proximity, especially after so long away from him, was overwhelming, and you felt your mind slipping to a place you didn’t want it to be, “Get the fuck away from me, asshole.” 

Another shove, and he wrapped his hands around your wrists, holding them over your head, “You weren’t asking me to do that last time we saw each other, were you, little witch? Now. Does Cordelia know?” 

“No,” Growling, you tried in vain to pull your hands back, “We talked about you, but she doesn’t know about that. Now let me go.” 

Tilting his head to the side, Michael laughed at you, “How many times do I have to tell you? You’re not the one in charge here.”

“Fuck you,” You spat, beginning to shake with something between fury and a feeling that you didn’t quite want to acknowledge.

“This is a pretty color,” Michael shifted both of your wrists to one hand and brought the other down to trail across your lips, tapping at the soft flesh, smudging a bit of the golden sheen, “Did you put this on for me?” 

Ever since that day in the study room, not that day but the one before, you had taken to wearing more and more lipstick, coating your lips in a new color everyday. 

Today was gold, one that shimmered when the light hit it, and if you were honest, yes, you did put it on for Michael. Every time you reapplied a coat of lipstick, today and every other, he flashed through your mind, the sneer on his features, the echo of his words in your ear when his fingers were down your throat. 

“You look good like this...Gagging...You wear revealing clothes and you act like you’re doing it for yourself...But really you’re just a dumb, depraved, desperate little whore who wants nothing more than to be dicked down by your rival.” 

Fuck, just thinking about it sent a wave of wetness gushing through you, and you tensed your legs in an effort to ignore it, and the smirk on Michael’s face told you that he had noticed. 

Yes, you were wearing it for him. 

“No,” You had to crane your head to glare at him with how close he was, “I don’t know if this is the first time you’re hearing this, but not everything is about you, Boy Wonder.” 

He hummed, drawing his fingers along your cheekbone, and you cursed yourself for the way you leaned into the contact ever so subtly. After a moment he pressed his lips against yours, and although you fought to keep yourself in control, to keep from kissing him back, cursing yourself once again when you couldn’t hold yourself back, your noses smashing against one another, your mouth slipping open with a groan, quickly intruded upon by Michael’s tongue, which battled fiercely with yours. 

And then suddenly he pulled away from you and stepped back, and you fell to your knees as he chuckled, his hands unbuckling his belt, “All the same, little bitch, I think that color would look wonderful smeared all over my cock, don’t you?” 

“I fucking hate you,” You glared up at him through your eyelashes as one of his hands gripped your hair, the other pulling his dick out of the confines of his slacks. 

“That just makes this all the more pathetic, doesn’t it?” He slapped your cheek with his dick gently, and it wasn’t lost on you how perfect it was, the size and the ridging and and the pulsing veins and the furious pink of the tip all making your mouth water, “Get up and walk away if you want, little witch bitch. But I don’t think you will. I think you want this. I think that being a little whore is the calling you’re pulled to most.” 

Get up and walk away.

You could do that. 

He pulled his hand from your hair, letting your head drop back, and you knew that if you moved to stand he would release you, would let you go. His precum had leaked onto your face as he continued to hit your cheeks, waiting to see what you would do. 

Just get up and walk away. 

But you couldn’t, couldn’t bring yourself to walk away without having the chance to taste him, not when the very thought was sending arousal roaring through you, and while you wished you could directly blame this on Michael, could say that his magic was holding you in place, that simply wasn’t it. 

You opened your mouth as wide as you could and in an instant his cock was down your throat, Michael setting off to fuck your face at an intense pace. 

Gagging, you brought your hands up to his thighs, and when your nails scratched against his legs through the fabric or his dress pants Michael let out a high, desperate groan. 

Although you couldn’t quite smile at that, with how full your mouth was, there was a little voice gloating in the back of your head, and you squeezed his thigh tightly, drinking down his moans as you moved until his own back had hit the wall, his hands desperately moving from your hair to your shoulders to simply slamming down on either side of his body. 

“Your mouth is good for something, I guess,” Michael grunted, as though he wasn’t as desperate for you as you had been for him a week ago, “You’re much prettier when you’re not talking, did you know that?” 

You managed to flick back your middle finger enough to flip him off, although you didn’t pull back to make a verbal response. There was something urgent about this, and the idea of dropping him from your mouth seemed too great a sacrifice to make, when the harmony of Michael’s shockingly soft, animalistic moans mixed with the lewd, wet noises of his dick hitting the back of your throat was so disgustingly lovely. 

Michael’s hands twitched, as though he was going to grab at your hair again, and at that moment he seemed to finally notice your own magic in the air, holding his wrists in place.

“You little bitch,” He snarled, straining against the magic, but all he could do was buck his hips into your mouth even harder, letting out a hiss as your teeth grazed him, as your tongue swirled around his head, “Let me go.” 

But where’s the fun in that? 

You didn’t let him go, and you didn’t stop. If anything, you grew more intense, your hands managing all over him, sneaking past the fabric of his clothes to leave angry scratches on his skin, so smooth underneath your touch. Eventually one of them trailed to his balls, tugging and toying with them roughly as he began to strain even harder, began to make a choked noise at the back of his throat that made your thighs clench, and you knew he was going to cum soon. 

You pulled your mouth off of him. 

He looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, panting, desperate, watching as you trailed your tongue over every inch of his dick, pulling his balls into your mouth and sucking them slowly, and finally you pressed a kiss to the skin just above his cock and leaned back with a grin.

“What the fuck,” Michael growled, although his face showed a kind of manic desperation that he clearly wasn’t used to, “Get back to it!”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Your smile got even wider, although your mouth was sore and your voice scratchy, you decided it was worth it, “You call me a little bitch all the time, but who’s the bitch now, Boy Wonder?” 

“Y/N, I’m serious. I will ruin you,” Snarling in spite of the pained expression starting to grow on his face, he thrusted against you, and you let out a giggle at that. 

“It’s so cute that you say that while you’re humping my leg like an unfixed puppy,” Shaking your head, you took a step back, out of the range of his hips, and looked down to admire his flushed, throbbing dick, “You were right, y’know. The gold does look good on there .Especially the contrast it has with the blue of your balls.”

He looked down to see that your words were true, the skin becoming overtaken with a pale, bruise like color, and when Michael looked back up at you there was something murderous in his eyes, “Quit fucking around. Let me go, and finish.” 

“Why should I?”

Arms straining against their magical containment, face twisting with the growing pain in his balls, Michael’s voice had grown croaky, “Do it. I will never touch you again, if you walk away from this, do you get that you desperate little whore? You want me. You need me. Do what I fucking tell you.” 

“I think there’s been a serious misunderstanding here, Langdon. I don’t need anything from you. You keep saying you’re the one in charge, but look at you. You’re nothing but a little blonde bimbo. So fuck you,” You scoffed, trailing a single hand across his chest and giving his nipple a harsh pinch, letting out a laugh at his angered whine, “And by the way, Cordelia says I have to move back into our room. I’ll be back tonight. I’ll see you whenever you get around to being the powerful warlock everyone thinks you are and break through my magic.”

With that, you pressed a quick, chaste kiss to the corner of his lip and turned away, not bothering to fix your own appearance before you went out, turning the light off before you closed Michael in the closet. 

You were proud of yourself, you had to admit. 

Scared, perhaps, of what he might do, and curious as to whether or not he’d keep the promise that he’d never touch you again-not that you wanted him to, of course, you were just curious-but you were proud all the same. 

Fucking Michael Langdon. 

[wouldpollyapprove]

You Love Me?

Summary: After Tommy accuses her of trying to take Grace’s place as Charlie’s mother, Y/n leaves the house, trying to forget the words he said to her. Running from her problems, Y/n decided to drink the night away and face her problems in the morning.

Request: 13 angst and 2 humor for Tommy as well please? I like your writing a lot!

Requested by @jenepleurepasbaby

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: language, alcohol, drugs

A/N: This is probabaly trash and after editing it, I could have done so much more with it but I’m lazy. And I know that I said I was taking a break this week, but I spent all day working on a lab write up and needed to write something I actually enjoy, so this is it. It sucks, but I don’t care. Oh, requests are open and I will be editing my fandoms list so, yeah.

Masterlist

“I think you need to take a break, Tommy.” Y/n stood behind him, looking over at the papers he was hunched over. She ran her hands over his tense shoulders and decided to rub out the knots. “You’ve been at this for hours, how about you come join Charlie and I on our walk?”

A grumble was all she got in response before he through her hands off him. 

“Tommy, please. You deserve a break.” She was met with silence. Y/n huffed and walked in front of his desk. “If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for Charlie. He misses you. You spend all your time in your fucking office and none with him. He needs his father.” Her words finally caused the man to look up, but there was nothing but anger in his eyes.

“It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion,” Tommy stated. Leaning back in his chair, daggers for eyes stared back at Y/n. “How would you know what my boy needs, hm? Your not his mother, now are you?” 

The questions stung, causing cracks in her heart. Y/n never tried to be Charlie’s mother. All she ever wanted to be was someone the boy could come to in a time of need. Someone to support him and love him, but never his mother. She could never do that.

“All you are is my fucking whore! Nothing more, nothing less! Now fuck off, will ya?”

He didn’t have to ask her twice as Y/n ran out of the room, tears pooling in her eyes. She wanted to blame it all on stress from work, but how could she believe that when the words cut her so deeply. She had always thought of herself as more than just his whore, accepting the fact that he wasn’t quite ready for marriage. 

But he loved her.

Tommy loved her, that’s what she once knew. Now, dodging furniture and maids, with tears in her eyes, she was uncertain. Finally, upon the room she shared with Tommy, she quickly opened the door and shut it behind her. Sliding down the door, once she hit the floor, tears spilled out like a raging river. Sobs echoes through the room as she pulled her knees to her chest. 

Was she no more than a whore to him? Was she wasting her life on a man who would never want her? Questions as such ran wild through her brain, no answer in sight. How was she to know Tommy’s intentions when he never gave away much. 

“It’s alright,” Y/n whispered to herself, her head resting against her knee. Her eyes roamed the room, trying to grasp onto something, anything that could distract her. Then, out of the corner of her eye, the sun hit glittering fabric from the wardrobe. Wiping her tears, she pushed herself off the door and trudged over to the wardrobe. The door creaked as she pulled out the fabric, a glittering blue dress that Tommy had bought her. It was beautiful in the light, sparkling like a crystal ball, tragic that it had never been worn. 

Upon seeing the dress, an idea popped into her head. She wouldn’t spend all day crying over a fucking man, she would having more fun than that.

*~~*~~*

A smile broke out across her face as the band played a new song. “I fucking love this color,” Y/n ran her finger over the bar.

Her friend, Beth, giggled a reaction from one too many cocktails. “Yeah,” she drawled. “It’s… lovely.”

Y/n let out a sigh and leaned her head on the counter. She was unclear what time it was, vision hazy from the alcohol, but it was getting late, the sun setting outside. “We should go dancing!” she declared, raising her head up a little to fast.

Beth nodded, “We should. We…” Her sentence dropped off as a pair of men walked through the door. A nudge from Y/n brought her attention back to what she was saying. “We haven’t done that… in ages.”

Y/n slide off the barstool after chugging the last of her drink. She then grabbed her friend by the elbow and dragged her out of the pub. They were in the wealthy part of Birmingham, the part that wasn’t covered in dirt and death. People from this part of town didn’t die falling into machinery or from soot coating their lungs. These people usually died from consuming too much alcohol or drugs or in their sleep at the age of 85. Being in that part of town also meant that Y/n could do whatever the fuck she wanted.

No longer in Small Heath, she needn’t worry about the rage of Thomas Shelby. There weren’t Peaky Blinders or members of the Shelby family around every corner. There was no one to tell her to go home or to bite back the tears and leave Tommy alone. She was finally free. Free from the filth, from the looks, from the whispers that came from being with a dangerous man. 

For the first time in what felt like ages, Y/n like the person she used to be. 

The pair ented a club, one Y/n knew would give them the high they were seeking. Drugs were strewn on tables like leftovers and alcohol was soaking everything from the walls to the tables. If you wanted to forget something, it seemed, this was the place to go.

Dodging people too drunk to stand, Y/n made her way to the dance floor, Beth right behind her. Once in the middle of the floor, she couldn’t help but start dancing, grabbing a random person to dance with her. “I fucking love this!”

“Me too!” her friend shouted above the music. 

The danced for a long while, opting to dance with each other rather than the men around them. It was more fun that away, being able to express themselves with no other intentions but enjoying themselves. Both women were tired of being chased after by men to only become sex toys in their eyes. 

“I dumped Jack!” Beth yelled, throwing her arms in the air to the beat of the music. 

Y/n laughed, “About fuckin’ time! You should’ve dumped him ages ago!” The music picked up, much faster than it was before, causing her to let out a squeal as she started jumping around. “I love Tommy!”

Beth stopped dancing and grabbed Y/n’s arm, pulling her close. “You what?” Her friend said something, but even with their proximity to each other, Beth was unable to hear her. She pulled the two over to the edge of the dance floor until she spotted a table for them to sit at. “You what?” she repeated.

A little out of breath, Y/n rested her elbows against the table. “I love him, Beth. I love Tommy.” A waitress came over a collected their orders before she could continue. Once the woman was out of earshot, she said, “But I don’t think… I don’t know if he loves me.”

Beth huffed and leaned back in her chair. “Men are arseholes.”

“Yeah, yeah, they are.”

After a few drinks later and many tears, the two stumbled out of the club. Y/n didn’t want to go home and face Tommy, who she knew would be angry, instead, Beth insisted she stay with her. So, the two stumbled and giggled the whole way to her apartment, going on and on about how the needed to go back to that club. 

“I want a ham sandwich,” Beth muttered from where she laid on the couch. 

“Me too,” Y/n agreed, lying on the floor, before falling asleep.

*~~*~~*

The next morning, Beth and Y/n woke up, heads pounding, and made ham sandwiches before Y/n decided to leave. She didn’t want to impose and found it best to figure out her next moves on her own. 

On the streets of Birmingham, she walked all the way to Small Heath, watching the large shops and fancy restaurants change into dirty brick houses and factories. The closer she was to the Small Heath, the less she knew. All she knew was that her head felt like it had been smashed in and her feet ached from the long walk and all the dancing she had done the night before. There was no way she was ready to face her problems. 

Before she could compose herself, Y/n saw Polly walking down the street. The woman had yet to see her and Y/n wanted to keep it that way. With her head to the ground, she quickened her pace and prayed she wouldn’t be seen. God obviously wasn’t listening as Polly called over to her.

“Y/n.” The woman walked over to her. With a smile, Y/n lifted her eyes from the pavement, ashamed that she had to be seen with makeup running down her face, unruly hair, and yesterday’s clothes. “What happened to you?”

Where was she to start? “Um, it’s a long story…”

“Does this have something to do with Tommy?” A nod confirmed her suspicions causing her to swear under her breath. Her nephews only knew two things: how to run women off and how to chose the wrong ones. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” her voice was gentle as she led Y/n to her house.

Y/n did nothing as Polly helped her clean up, wiping the makeup off her cheeks and comb the rats out of her hair. She sat there, blank face, and let her thoughts run wild. All her worries from the day before had vanished, no longer holding the weight they once did. She was at the point where she believed that what happened, happened. Whether fate was real or not was not up for debate, it didn’t matter. Life played out in odd ways and if things got better than they got better. If they didn’t then she would deal with it when that happened. 

“Polly, why weren’t you at the meeting?” Tommy’s voice boomed through the house. 

“Fuck,” Polly muttered, having forgotten the meeting as soon as she’d seen Y/n. “I was busy,” she replied from the kitchen, where she sat next to Y/n at the table.

“What could be-” His sentence faltered when he entered the kitchen and saw Y/n. She was cleaned up, but it wasn’t hard for him to see she was exhausted. “You’re here.”

“I was going to go back home, but then I remembered that you lived there too,” she said, eyes trained on the cup of tea that sat in front of her. 

A sigh escaped his lips, he knew he fucked up. Even before Y/n had left his office the day before, he knew. The harsh words that left his lips weren’t meant to meet the air. He was stressed and angry with work and should’ve never taken his frustrations out on Y/n. 

Polly excused herself upon seeing the tension between the room but didn’t leave until she made it clear that Tommy had to fix what he’d done. Y/n was one of the only good things in his life and she’d be damned if he messed that up. 

“I’m sorry for what I said.”

Y/n snorted. “Then why’d you say it?”

Closing the distance, Tommy strode over to the table, taking a seat next to her. He grasped her hand, relieved when she didn’t pull it away. “I should have listened to you, love. You and Charlie deserve better. And I know you do your best to respect Grace and I shouldn’t have said otherwise. You love Charlie like he’s your own and you don’t have to. You don’t even have to fucking like him, but you love my boy. And you love me even after knowing what I’ve done.”

Y/n gave him a small smile. “You love me?”

He rolled his eyes, “Is that all you got from that?”

“No.” She grabbed him by the collar, pulling him closer. “That’s just my favorite part.” She pulled him into a kiss.

*~~*~~*

@amirahiddleston @haphazardhufflepuff @woahitslucyylu @mzcrazy2 @lovemissyhoneybee @multi-fandom-iimagines @tarafaithe @jenepleurepasbaby @fernweh-fangirl @the-anxious-youth @theshelbyclan @wtfdanness @chloeforde @futuristicslimemongerbanana @lucillethings @captivatedbycillianmurphy

[hurricaneonanesthesia]

Loss of a Hero

Hi, Admin Anesthesia here :). I’m so sad. Still crying over Tommy. Based on this. There's also a reference to the wonderful song letter to a dead friend by Precious Jewel Amor.

——————–

Summary: After Dream kills Tommy, Sam tells everyone. How will all of them deal with the loss of a hero?

Trigger Warnings: Implied Suicide, Spoilers, Death

Content Warnings: Swearing

——————–

Sam was pacing around the prison area as he tried to look for the woman.

“Sam...you okay?” Puffy asked as she appeared behind him with worried eyes.

Sam jumped before sighing and nodding, “Puffy...I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry about?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He continued to mutter.

“Sam, what happened?”

“I failed him. I promised that I’d protect him and I didn’t. I waved off the idea because I didn’t think he was capable.”

“Sam?” Puffy asked, fearing the worst.

“He’s dead, Puffy. Dream killed him because I didn’t want to kill Dream.” Sam couldn’t look Puffy in the eyes, “I’m sorry...I know I promised I’d protect him.”

“Tommy?” Puffy’s voice was a whisper, not wanting to confirm the truth.

Sam’s little nod made Puffy’s heart sink. “Oh...Sam, you couldn’t have known.”

“But I did. I could’ve stopped it.” Sam finally faced Puffy, tears streaming down his face, “I’m sorry, Puffy. He was just a kid.”

“I know, I know,” Puffy replied, pulling Sam into a hug as her tears started to come down as well.

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

Sapnap first heard about Tommy’s death when he was talking with Quackity.

“Hey, babe.” Sapnap smiled, kissing the top of Quackity’s head. He thought Quackity was praying because Quackity was kneeling down, but upon closer inspection, he knew that wasn’t the case.

“Hey, Sapnap.” Quackity gave a small smile to his fiance as he looked up at him. Quackity’s face was strewn with tears.

“What’s wrong?” Sapnap’s face immediately melted into worry, “Who hurt you? I can-”

“Tommy died.”

“Wait...what?” Sapnap’s worry turned into denial, “It can’t be. Dream didn’t have any weapons. Tommy could easily fight back.”

“He was just a child. He was my friend.”

“He...couldn’t have died. Tell me you’re joking….please.”

“Sam told us this morning. Dream beat him to death. That sick fuck even looked happy about it.”

Sapnap didn’t like Tommy that well, but the few times they got along, Tommy was a good teammate. He was just a kid. He had so much to experience still.

Tommy reminded him a lot of his younger self. Aspiring to be more than fate wrote him. So when he felt something roll down his cheek, he knew he was grieving for the boy that could’ve been so much more. The boy who would have achieved a lot more than Sapnap did.

“I have to go do something.” Sapnap muttered as he walked away, “Dream...what did you do? I told you not to do anything bad, and here you are, wishing for your death.”

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

Tubbo didn’t believe that Tommy was dead. Why should he?

Sam had told Tubbo that he was alive and well the day before. The last time he thought Tommy was dead, he ended up being alive and well. Sam was probably just trolling with him. Besides...

Dream didn’t have the balls to do this.

Tubbo, at least, thought this until he had gotten Tommy’s compass from Sam.

“I think Tommy would’ve wanted you to have this,” Sam whispered as he gave the compass to Tubbo.

Tubbo’s smile faded as he pulled out his own. The compass was spinning nonstop and it didn’t land on Tommy’s anymore. It was broken.

“Sam...Sam...why is it doing that?”

“Doing what, Tubbo?”

“Ghostbur gave it to me. He said that it pointed to Tommy’s compass. Theoretically, it should still work, right?” Tubbo asked, “Tommy’s not dead. He isn’t! How could he be? Dream’s never defeated him before.”

“Tubbo... I don’t know if you want me to answer that.” Sam looked regretful.

“Please...tell me.”

“They were bound to your souls. Once one of you die, it breaks because it has nothing to bound to anymore.”

Then a heavy feeling was placed on his shoulders as he realized that his best friend was gone. And he never got to say goodbye to him.

He was too busy trying to compete against the Big Innit Hotel and goofing off with Ranboo that….he didn’t pay enough attention to Tommy.

Tommy told him that he was going to face his abuser one last time. Tubbo was so proud of him. Sam told him that Tommy was stuck in the prison with Dream. That was fine, Tubbo knew that Tommy could fight through it. After all, it was only one week.

Tubbo thought that Sam was joking when he said that Tommy was dead.

“Sam….I never got to say goodbye to him.” Tubbo whispered as he crumbled to the ground, looking at his broken compasses.

“I know.” Sam sighed, “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I should’ve protected him from Dream. I’m sorry.”

Why wasn’t he crying? His best friend just died. Did he not care enough? Why did he feel so insensitive?

“Tubbo?” Sam asked as he knelt down beside the shaking boy.

“Sam, why am I not crying? He was my best friend and I don’t even care about it. Why am I not crying?”

“Tubbo, you don’t have to cry to show that you’re grieving. You’re just a boy still. Just...come here.”

Sam pulled him into a hug and that’s when Tubbo felt his tears come out.

“He’s gone. I was supposed to be there for him when he got out. And he’s gone.”

“He died protecting you.”

“WHAT?” Tubbo asked, standing up.

“Dream threatened Tommy that he’d kill you if he got out, and Tommy died to his hands, telling him that he’d never lay a hand on you.”

Tubbo felt everything rush to his head. It was all too much. How could he? How could Dream?

He felt angry. He needed to get his revenge. So he pulled himself together and started walking back to his base.

“Tubbo, where are you going?”

Tubbo smiled, “I’m going to finish what Tommy started. I’m going to make Dream lose his last life.”

“Tubbo-”

“Sam, he killed my best friend. He manipulated me. I’m tired of playing his games. It’s time I made the rules.”

Sam sighed and before Tubbo could leave, Sam just handed him the compasses. “Keep them safe. After all, Tommy’s compass still works, right?”

Tubbo sighed, “Right.”

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

Quackity was sitting on the signature bench and he had Wilbur’s guitar in hand. He guessed that it was about as a good time as any to sing for the soul they had just lost. The strums of the guitar echoed throughout the entire Dream SMP area and soon, people were gathering around him.

“I heard there was a special place, where men could go and emancipate the brutality and tyranny of their rulers. Well, this place is real you needn’t fret, with Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, and Eret. It's a very big and a little bit blown up L’Manberg.”

“My L’manberg. My L'Manberg. My L'Manberg. My L'Manberg.” Tubbo started to sing, sitting down next to Quackity as he started to sing with him.

“For freedom and for liberty, our nation sought to build on these, a victory for all under democracy. Well, the darkness came, and then it went, we built a home and watched it sink, and there from rubble, there emerged L’Manberg.” Quackity sang at the same time that Tubbo had sung the verse of the ad-libbed on the day L’manberg was destroyed.

They both laughed it off as they started to sing again.

“My L’manberg. My L'Manberg. My L'Manberg. My L'Manberg.”

Tubbo had to stop because he had started to cry. “Tommy….”

Quackity just continued. He knew that Tubbo wanted him to continue the symphony. Tommy would’ve liked to hear it.

“With bloodied hands and weakened knees, our people rose like the phoenix, our empty fields and canals ‘round L’Mantree. With sweat and tears we armed our ranks, we laid foundations in our land, and from every lips fro here up to infinity.” Quackity looked at Tubbo to make sure he was okay.

Tubbo just nodded as he continued to wipe away the endless stream of tears.

And as they came to the final verse, everyone around them started to sing with them.

“We sing L’Manberg. We sing L’Manberg. We sing L’Manberg. To our L’Manberg.”

As soon as the song was done, everyone went to hug Tubbo, grief surrounding all of them.

No one thought that Tommy would be gone so soon, especially Tubbo. The one person Tommy cared about more than the discs.

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

“Ranboo….what’s wrong?” Technoblade had asked as soon as he saw Ranboo’s defeated face. “Who hurt you? Was it BBH again? I can-”

“No...nothing like that.” Ranboo shrugged it off, “It’s just….Sam told me that Tommy died today.”

Technoblade snorted, raising an eyebrow, “You know he’s probably joking, right?”

“I don’t think he is.” Ranboo whispered, “Sam told me to give this to you.”

Techno raised an eyebrow before Ranboo dropped something small into Techno’s hand. Something splattered with blood.

“It can’t be.” Techno’s voice was barely a whisper.

No...that was the friendship emerald Phil had given Tommy. Techno had seen Tommy wear it as an earring during his exile time period. Techno knew that Tommy still wore it. There would be no reason for him to lose it, and more importantly, lose it with blood splattered on it.

“I’m sorry, Techno.”

Techno felt a heavy weight on his shoulders. He knew that Tommy wasn’t ready to go just yet. Techno never got to say he was sorry for betraying the boy.

“Why are you sorry?” Techno laughed, “It wasn’t you that killed him, was it?”

“He was like a brother to you, right?”

“Tommy meant nothing to me.” Techno replied coldly as he sighed, “But I’m sorry for your loss, Ranboo. I know that Tommy was your first friend.”

Ranboo just broke down, “I never even got to say goodbye to him. There were so many things I wanted to say to him. Tubbo and I were going to compete with him with our hotel. And-”

Ranboo was caught off guard by a pair of arms wrapping around him. Technoblade was hugging him.

“He meant a lot to me too,” Techno whispered as Ranboo wrapped his arms around Techno as well.

They stood there in silence, just hugging each other for the longest time until finally, Ranboo separated. “Techno...I have something to admit.”

“Your enderwalk state was the one to trap Tommy in the prison? I know.” Techno sighed, “But that’s not you. And you can make it up by coming with me and helping me kill the green Teletubby.”

Ranboo smiled as he took the sword Techno passed him, “Let’s do this.”

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

“Niki, I don’t think I want to do this plan anymore.” Jack sighed as soon as he saw Niki approaching him with plans to try and kill Tommy.

“Why not? Are you really backing out?”

“Niki, look at us. We were blaming a child for something that he’s already trying to fix. You’re blaming him for Wilbur’s death, but you know just as well as me that Wilbur was not in his right mind. He chose to die at the hands of his father.”

“Jack, where is this coming from?” Niki scoffed.

“Dream killed Tommy today. Beaten to death by his abuser in a tight space, according to Sam. It got me thinking.”

“Wait...what? Tommy’s dead.”

“Niki, you never wanted Tommy to be dead, did you? You just needed someone to blame while you were grieving.”

“No, no, no, no, no, he can’t die. We still have plans to make. We were supposed to make his death happy. He was supposed to see Wilbur and face his consequences. What do you mean Dream did it? That could’ve been the worst way for him to die.”

“Niki, we just wanted to feel important to him again. He ignored us, so we forced ourselves into his story. Look back…”

“Wilbur...did choose to die, didn’t he? It wasn’t Tommy’s fault. Oh god…” Niki sobbed, “I tried to kill him. And I couldn’t focus on having fun with him. Now he’s dead.”

Jack nodded, “Me too…”

Niki just went to hug Jack, “How can I ever forgive myself?”

“Time,” Jack whispered, knowing fully well that he needed to forgive himself too.

But for now, they felt ashamed of their actions and thoughts leading up to Tommy’s death.

“At least Dream did it instead of us,” Niki whispered. “That way, we saw clearly before we made the mistake.”

“He was just a kid, Niki.”

“I know...Tommy, we’re sorry.”

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

“Tubbo...did Sam tell you?” Ranboo asked as soon as he entered the Bee N Boo hotel.

Tubbo nodded, holding up the broken compass he was looking at. “Please tell me we’re just in a dream and that Tommy is still in the prison alive, waiting for Sam to let him go.”

“I’m sorry, Tubbo.”

Tubbo slumped down, “I never even got to say goodbye to him. We thought it was over when we put Dream in jail. Sam told me he was still wearing his compass when Sam went into the cell.”

“He was my first friend.” Ranboo whispered, “Of course, we immediately got into a war crime, but he was still nice to me. I’m sorry.”

Tubbo just stood up, “Can we go and get some more blocks to finish the hotel? I don’t want to think about it.”

“Sure...come on.” Ranboo gave a small smile, “We can even go and get some red and white dye to have a memorial for Tommy in the hotel.”

“That sounds nice,” Tubbo mumbled as he allowed Ranboo to pull him towards the flower field.

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

“Hey...what’s up with you two? Why so gloomy today?”

Ranboo looked up at Phil, only holding out something red.

Phil raised an eyebrow as he took it, only to realize it was the bandana he gave Tommy a long time ago.

“You guys are fucking with me, right?”

Techno shook his head as he took out Tommy’s friendship emerald, “Dream killed him in prison.”

Everything came crashing down at that point. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, he can’t be dead. Tommy’s the main character. He was supposed to show me the hotel after he got out of prison. I promised myself that I’d be a better father for him and that I would move on from Wilbur’s death. What do you mean that he’s dead?”

“I’m sorry, Phil. I know how much Tommy meant to you.” Techno sighed, putting a hand on Phil’s shoulder. “We’ll leave you alone to think about this.”

“Thank you, Techno.” Phil sighed.

Before Ranboo could leave though, Phil asked, “Did Tommy ever tell you anything about me?”

“He told me once that he missed the dad that was there for him. He said he knew you were getting better and still healing, as was he, but he was tired of you leaning on his misery in order to cope. He just wanted to have a dad again.”

With that, Ranboo left the room, leaving Phil to collapse on the ground, caving in to the voices that were telling him that he was a bad father.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Phil sobbed, “I failed you, Tommy, and it’s all my fault.”

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

Tommy opened his eyes to see that he was somewhere. And nowhere at the same time. He didn’t know where he was.

“Tommy?”

He heard Wilbur and he turned around to see his brother. “Wilbur, where are we?”

“Oh, Tommy, when I meant see you soon, I didn’t mean this soon.” Wilbur pulled Tommy into a hug, “You’re in the afterlife.”

“That son of a bitch did it, huh?” Schlatt snorted, “I can’t believe he did it.”

“Schlatt-”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.” Schlatt rolled his eyes, “But I can’t believe that Dream killed you. To prove that the book is real.”

“Is it real?” Tommy asked.

“Nah, I’m a drunk alcoholic. How the fuck am I supposed to get a necromancy book? No...I gave him something else.”

“What?”

“A script.”

“A script?”

“Our script. See, Tommy, I was supposed to be the idiot, but I managed to be one step ahead of Pogtopia. Because I knew what was going to happen. So I gave the script to Dream in order for him to win. I knew I would die in the end and that you would get a happy ending. So I needed you to continue losing. So he became self-aware. He kept causing problems and blowing things out of proportion so that there would still be a story. Without one, he wouldn’t exist. He needed you to continue doing stuff. So in the end, he knew it was him or you. And he decided to choose you. To keep the story going for a bit longer.”

“Schlatt, you sick fucker. You never told me that.” Wilbur hissed at Schlatt.

“Well, there was no reason to. We might as well become friends again in the afterlife. There’s nothing to do here. But-”

“Tommy, we’re going to get you back and you’re going to kill that son of a bitch because it isn’t your time to die.”

“How though?”

“By the same way Dream convinced you to let him live. We’re going to guide the people to find a necromancy book and we’re going to bring you back to life.”

“Wilbur, what about you? What if I just like being with my brother again?”

“You have forever to talk to me when you die, but you still have unfinished business with the rest of the Dream SMP.”

Tommy smiled, hugging Wilbur, “Okay...let’s do this then.”

They were going to help the others revive Tommy.

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

Tubbo walked to Tommy’s house. Dozens of flowers laid across the doorway and items of value were on the ground for Tommy. Tubbo was the last person to not put something there.

“Hi Tommy.” Tubbo gave a small smile, “I’m sorry it took me so long to visit your house. Everyone seemed to already give you so many flowers. I don’t know if you’d like more, but I picked them out for you.”

He knelt down at the doorway, placing the flowers.

“I also got you some of the things I’ve kept. Like blue premium bonds, blaze powder flavor therapy, signs from our pranks, swords I grinded for, blocks from my house, and-”

Tubbo couldn’t continue as he held back a sob.

“I miss you so much, Tommy. Why did you have to go?”

He put the items down before walking towards the bench. It felt empty next to him.

Opening his ender chest, he found one of Tommy’s discs in there. He put it into the jukebox next to him as a familiar tune came up.

When Tommy and Tubbo had reunited, Tubbo had shown Tommy his letter he wrote for his best friend he presumed dead.

Tubbo took out the crumpled paper from his pocket.

“I miss you. The memories flashed back tonight. I want to tell you, but I’m sure you’re alright. I can’t move on from the pain and the loss that I gave you. My world is silent right now. I finally live in peace, but it seems like everyone’s been fooling me. I thought that I was fine, but now that you’re gone, I wish I had more time. Don’t you remember you call me your Tubbo? I once assured you, together we’ll grow, but now I’m alone and I don’t know what to do. Everything just leads back to you. I miss you as I sit by the horizon myself. It’s not true, I won’t forget the good times we shared. You told me it was us against the world and I’m sorry I have left you all injured and hurt. My world is silent right now. Don’t you remember I call you my Tommy? I used to tell you that I’ll never leave, but now that I did, and I don’t know what to do. I’m sure everything will lead back to you.” Tubbo read out loud, the tears dropping from his face onto the paper.

And for some reason, he couldn’t stop reading the last sentence. It made sense.

“Everything will lead back to you. Everything will lead back to you.” Tubbo sobbed. Everything he had done was for the good of Tommy or L’manberg. He just wanted to be back with his best friend again.

“Sincerely yours, Your Tubbo.” Tubbo whispered as the song ended and he put everything back into his ender chest.

He felt exhaustion come over him and he laid down on the bench, his tears still flowing down his face. Sleep came over him soon as he cried himself to sleep.

Tommy was gone for real this time and Tubbo couldn’t do anything to reverse it.

[ffangirlingsince2001]

End of the Tunnel: IV

George Weasley x Reader

Description: It’s almost been a year since Freed Weasley was lost to the Battle of Hogwarts, and for George Weasley it might as well be an eternity. He is lost in the dark, no color to be found. Until suddenly there might be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING, mentions of suicide, cutting, language, angst!!!! (I’m very serious if this messes with your mind DO NOT READ).

MASTERLIST

***

Hannah had been living with him for three weeks. And what a three weeks it had been. There was never a dull moment living with George Weasley. One night she had shown up to a water gun fight and the next a candlelit dinner he had cooked almost entirely on his own (Hermione had been a bit of help where magic failed). He helped her clean after work whenever the shop didn’t keep him late. He held her until morning as they curled beneath the sheets of his drafty apartment, never hesitating to grab another one of his mother’s knitted blankets when she even so much as shivered. He was loving and kind and sweet. He laughed at her stories and even added a few tales from school of his own. He was never impatient when she struggled to understand some wizarding device she had not yet encountered (“It’s a bird of prey!”). Honestly, it had been the best three weeks of her life.

Everything seemed to be perfect until she was returning to his apartment one late night. The town drunk had refused to leave, escalating to a fight with one of her waiters, drawing in cops and a medic for the cuts and bruises left by shards of glass. When she pushed her key into the lock, she immediately knew something was wrong. Nothing was out of place and there was nothing profoundly disturbing, but the air hung like tragedy was waiting to strike.

“George,” she called into the house, jumping as her voice contrasted the heavy silence of the room. “George,” she called again, gently stepping towards the slightly ajar bathroom door. She stretched her hand forward and pushed it open, unable to stop the blood-curdling scream the escaped her throat when she found what was inside.

He was sitting in the bathtub with hair askew and a bottle of firewhiskey, mostly gone, resting in his hand. But that wasn’t what worried her, it was the thin cuts that traipsed up his arm like a morbid train track.

She was on her knees in a second, crouching over him as she sobbed.

“George, George, look at me,” she sobbed, and he glanced at her, tears mixing with the streak of blood across his cheek. He seemed so lost and afraid.

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” he whispered, and she shook her head, grabbing bandages and climbing into the bathtub as she cried. She straddled his waist and pulled him close. “You’re always home by midnight, but you didn’t come, I thought you weren’t coming back. I thought you were gone.” They both were sobbing now.

“No, I promised. I promised you I’d never leave, and I don’t break my promises,” she cried trying to bandage his wrists. He yanked them away to cover his face, but she held tight, tightly wrapping the gauze around the shallow cuts. They weren’t bleeding much, but every time she glanced at them her stomach churned, threatening to empty her rushed dinner from earlier in the evening. “George, look at me.” She placed a kiss to his forehead. “Please, I need you to look at me,” she cried and eventually, through the emotional turmoil he did so.

His eyes were red from the firewhiskey and puffy from the crying, face so full of sadness he looked like a child who had not received anything on a dreary Christmas morning. She ran his hands over his cheeks, softly wiping away the tears that had been shed.

“George, there was an accident at the bar, I had to stay a bit later to take care of it. I’m sorry,” she explained, and he nodded, tears still sliding down his cheeks. “Please, don’t ever do this to yourself,” she said ushering to his wrists, “You have to promise me, please George.” He halfheartedly nodded but she persisted. “George, I’m serious. I can’t lose you, not to something as terrible as this.” She was crying harder now, fingers pressing subconsciously into the fresh wounds.

“Hannah, I promise, I promise I won’t,” he told her, pulling her tight, sobering up with every second she remained within her presence. They didn’t move from the bathtub that night, holding one another until they fell asleep and woke up with cricks in their backs.

While the three weeks before that had been the best weeks of her life, that day had been the worst, far worse than anything the death eaters had managed to inflict upon her psyche. When they had woken up she had made him promise one more time.

That must have been why when she returned to the house in the middle of the day two weeks later she had been hysterics.

Just like that night she had opened the door, and this time there was no heavy tension in the air, only his body on the kitchen floor.

She heard screaming, harsh and shrill against the silence, and it wasn’t until it was filled with crying that she realized it was hers. It was her scream echoing against linoleum, shaking the dishes and rattling the silverware as she fell to his side. His name never left her lips as she shook his shoulder, praying to whatever god that would listen. She prayed he would wake up and that the blood would return to the two long cuts up either arm. It was a sea of blood, staining the grout and her nails as she tried to pull him into her arms. God it was everywhere, spread across the floor like the cruel slaughter it was. She didn’t want to look at it, but it was impossible to look away. It coated her hands and her arms, staining her blouse all the way down to her shoes. No one should have that much blood, it seemed impossible for someone to have so much. It seemed impossible that it was his, spread across the floor. It just couldn’t be possible, not him, not now, not when he had fucking promised. He had said he wouldn’t do it, he had fucking promised. He just kept slipping back to the tile, cold, heavy… lifeless. It was a wonder none of the neighbors came as she screamed for help, the silencing charms he had once placed on their home should have been nonexistent against the wails of despair that slipped from her lips until her throat ached.

“Wake up! Wake up! Please, I’m fucking begging you wake up!” she screamed until she was hoarse.

It seemed no one would come, no one would help her pick up the pieces that were spread across the floor like a cruel joke. The world was playing a cruel joke on her, by ending when everything had just been beginning. It wasn’t fair, there had to be a way, there just had to. He was a wizard god damn it.

And then suddenly she felt familiar arms wrap around her, holding her tight as she cried. At first she was sure it was just her imagination, until she managed to hear her name through her own cries.

“Hannah,” it called and she turned to find him standing there. She blinked, rubbing away the tears, pressing her hands to his face, just to ensure that it was actually him. He felt there and the way his breath brushed her cheek felt real. She glanced behind her, and the body was still there but it looked different somehow. The alive George pushed her behind him and pulled out his wand, pointing it at the dead version of himself and the body turned to a ball of energy before being banished the a trunk that shook with vigor once it was locked tight. “Hannah, it’s okay, look at me, it’s not real.” She looked down and the blood was gone. It was just her on the floor with George holding her.

“What, I, I don’t.”

“It was a boggart,” he consoled, wiping away her tears.

“A- a what?”

“It shows you your biggest fear. Nasty creatures, I can’t believe we have one this far out of the wizarding world.”

“Oh,” she whispered, turning towards where he had once lain., “I’m glad that’s all.” And with a sudden zeal she pulled him tight against her, breathing deeply what she had thought she had lost only moments ago. He offered her a weary smile and she returned with one of her own.

“I’ll take care of it tomorrow with Ron, but now you should get some sleep.” It felt like hours since she had found the figment of his body, but the sun was still high above them.

“I have to go to work,” she protested but he shook his head.

“No, you don’t. Call someone in, you’re exhausted,” he said, noting the way her shoulders stooped over when he released her. She nodded and he carried her to bed, climbing in beside her. Her arms wrapped around him tighter than they ever had.

That night he waited until she was asleep before sweeping through the kitchen in search of every knife in the place. He bagged them all, doing his best to not let them rattle against each other, and then he chucked them into the bin outside their home. The kitchen was clear of her fears and with a nod he climbed back into bed, if they really needed them he was sure Ron wouldn’t be opposed.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine

Erik and Reader are best friends and Reader is the best freaky love for Erik but he doesn’t know how freaky she is. He finds out when he sees her at a heels class dancing to Beyoncé- Rocket.

“Deep down, everyone doubts themselves. Sometimes, I think I’m not good enough but at the end of the day I know I’m the fucking shit. I pray you quit overthinking, replaying failed scenarios, feeding self doubt & seeing the good in everyone but yourself you deserve more, ma.”

He passes Y/N the blunt, licking his full lips with a quick swipe of his tongue, and showing off his gold canines. Taking a puff of weed, Y/N watches Erik scratch the side of his defined torso over a tattoo that says Fuck Reality in that cursive lettering she loved to see. He yawns, blinking his sleepy eyes a few times before looking over at Y/N. She couldn’t help but look at his face.

“Make yourself a priority, Y/N. For real. Stop settling for these toxic lame ass niggas. When you meet a real nigga you gon’ realize you was never asking for too much.”

Y/N passed the blunt back to Erik while staring out of his bedroom window from his king sized bed. She knew her worth, she really did, but she always ended up going back to the same fuck boys.

“You’re too fine to be giving all your time and energy into him. Too fine. My bestfriend needs to know her worth. You looking at me like that but I’m being honest, shit, when was the last time you felt appreciated? When was the last time a nigga did something for you and didn’t expect something in return? Called to check up on you? Texted you back? Ate your pussy because he knows you had a rough week and you just need your pussy ate? Some good sex? When?”

Her carefree bestfriend with his tapered dreads and full beard and mustache. His sincere whiskey colored eyes and messy brows that he always talked with. Raising them, creasing them. He smooths a hand down his solid and sculpted chest before resting that hand over his abs. The gold rings on his fingers against his brown skin was just as beautiful as the sun setting before them.

“I can’t remember. I’m embarrassed to say,” Y/N finally speaks. She heaved a sigh, unzipping her velour pink hoodie, a white form-fitting shirt underneath, “I know I deserve more. Ugh, now I’m going to be single and lonely for Valentine’s.”

Erik sat up on his elbows, the hue of the sunset against his russet skin, “I’m your valentine now. i’ll be there at 10pm climbing through your bedroom window with flowers. Dahlias right? Cool, I’ll see you later tonight?” Erik gave Y/N a teasing smile. She knew he was trying to make her feel better but it didn’t change the fact that it sounded so...honest? Like he wanted to do and say that.

“Scary movies and chill? That romantic movie shit is played out. We can snuggle close with some popcorn with Freddy Kruger on the screen.”

“Your obsession with 80s slasher movies is amazing,” Y/N laughs, “Why must you mix Valentine’s with blood and gore, Erik?”

“Why not? Instead of bleeding your heart out because you’re heart broken, you can watch a heart actually bleeding out,” Erik chuckles before he ashes out the blunt in his ceramic ashtray that Y/N made for him with 4/20 carved into it.

“Should I dress up?” Y/N played along.

“Just keep those same straight backs in your hair and wear those little stripe linen shorts that make your ass look nice. Oh, and that mini white T-shirt that says Daddy on it in pink letters. Can’t forget the mix match ankle socks either.”

“You can wear a durag with a pair of grey sweatpants and a black T-shirt. The ones you wear that’s all loose fitting on you because you refuse to wear a tighter one? Yeah, and a pair of Vans.”

“What time for our little date, ma?”

“8. And don’t be late either.”

“To a date with you? Never.”

“Okay, I have a question,” Y/N turns towards him, “what’s your idea of a perfect night with your girl?”

“Hmm,” Erik rolled his moistened lips in deep thought, “Dick rubs and intellectual conversations. Head in a comfortable bed. Falling asleep with my head laying on her crotch so I can just pull her panties to the side and eat her pussy. Honestly, give pleasure by just being there. We don’t even have to talk or fuck. Presence is just comforting.”

“That sounds amazing,” Y/N never had those things but that’s what her bestfriend likes? She wished she had that same treatment.

“Those chill, nice nights with someone you feel comfortable with.” Erik spoke in a low tone while twirling a single loc, “I crave that.”

“I know, ugh, me too, Erik,” Y/N laid back against the bed, “I have to go to class today.”

Erik gave her a questioning look, “What class?”

Y/N turned around to lay on her belly, “A heels class. Remember I was telling you that I started doing this like a month ago?”

“Shorty, I have other things going on with me right now I didn’t focus on that,” Erik gives her a sad look, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve been working on a routine. I think I have it down. It’s gonna be real sexy.”

“Sexy? Who you tryna impress with this class?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Y/N teased.

“Ah, man. That ain’t fair, ma. I’m your bestie.”

“You are but I don’t need to tell you my business,” Y/N rolls her eyes into her head.

“It’s cool, cuz I’m coming there with you.”

Y/N’s face flushed.

“What? I can’t come-“

“NO.”

She didn’t want Erik to watch her dance. Being surrounded by those women made her feel like she was in her room dancing in the mirror. They all connected because they related to each other. If Erik came there she would probably mess up her routine since he would definitely be watching her move. It was a heels choreography class and Erik is a man, he’s going to watch. Y/N wore either a pair of black high crotch panties with fishnets and a cropped t shirt or a form fitting leotard with black sheer stockings. Six inch heels on her feet with a skinny heel since she’s gotten better. Popping her ass and hitting splits to the music. Erik never saw her like that. What would he say and do when he did?

“It really ain’t that deep, ma,” Erik jokes because Y/N was spaced out, “I promise I won’t laugh at you. I don’t have shit else to do but sit around so let me come with you.”

Y/N pondered while staring down at her hands before heaving a sigh of defeat, “okay. You can come.”

“I knew you would say yes,” Erik gave her a half smirk, “You can’t tell me no even if you tried.”

“Don’t embarrass me in there, Erik,” Y/N spoke to him with a warning in her voice. She knew he could be silly and fuck with her but when she danced, it was her time to shine.

“Teh, girl, you really think I would do that?”

Erik got closer to Y/N, leaning on his elbows while his face got closer to hers, “I’ll be on the side lines cheering you on. I promise, okay?”

Y/N looked up into his eyes, giving Erik a weird look before turning away from him, “Okay.”

He was acting very...strange. Not like his usual self but Y/N could be overthinking it. She sat up on her knees, lifting off the bed to put her sneakers back on before picking up her velour jacket and her PINK gym bag that carried all of the things she needed for class.

“Put on a shirt and come on, Erik.” She picked up a shirt that was wrinkled and balled up on the floor before throwing it at him, “I’m not trying to be late!”

“Calm that shit the fuck down, Y/N. Don’t give me attitude before I really make you late for this class.”

—————————-

“You calm down yet?” Erik asks Y/N while following behind her to the dance studio that held her heels class. The closer they walked, the more Erik could hear the deep base to the sensual music that vibrates the walls. He’d sit back and watch a bunch of women shake their ass in heels. Erik looked at his bestfriend walking ahead of him as she lead the way with a sway of her hips. Those tantalizing hips. Erik looked up at the back of her head as if she had eyes back their and could see him checking her out. He couldn’t help himself. Like he said back in his room, she’s too fine.

“Are you going to behave?” She looked back at him over her shoulder with a brow raised, “Well? Are you?”

“Yes ma’am,” Erik said with a husky voice, “whatever you say.”

Y/N rolled her eyes before making a left turn, opening the double doors to a dimly lit studio with a pink neon sign of a woman in heels that read dance. A few chairs rested in the corner of the room, mirrors were placed on one side of the wall so that the ladies could watch themselves. A guy stood off to the side in deep conversation with a short plump girl about 5’ 3 dressed in a mesh leotard with red fishnets and heels. He was fumbling with a camcorder that Erik assumes is used to record the ladies do their routines. On the polished hardwood floor, directly in the middle, were all the ladies doing stretches. Some were down in a split stretching out their legs, others were bending over to touch their toes, stretching out their backs. Erik recognized the music. It sounded like Teyana Taylor & Kehlani- Morning.

“Okay, I gotta get myself changed, I’ll be back, alright?” Y/N spoke with a whisper to him.

“Yeah, I’ll be over here,” Erik pointed to a black chair with a leather cushion to sit on.

“Cool,” Y/N gave Erik a silly smile before walking away, waving to a few ladies as she made her way over to the dressing room. Erik rested his hands in the pockets of his black cargo pants that he wore. The wrinkled shirt wasn’t the shirt he had on. He was wearing a muscle tee with the sides cut really low, giving you a view of his muscles and scars along his ribs down to his hips. Black boots on his feet and gold around his neck and on his fingers. Erik scratches his scruffy facial hair while looking around the class. When he did this, eyes were on him, wondering who this handsome guy was that came with Y/N. He entertained their looks for a minute before taking his phone out of his pocket to scroll through pointless apps.

“Oooo, Y/N, what routine are we gonna start out with today, honey?” A tall mocha skinned girl with a large curly bush and a black catsuit on asked. Erik looked up at the mention of her name. His eyes seemed to widen and gawk at Y/N. Erik was in a state of stupor. Stupefied but mesmerized at the same time.

“I have something I’ve been working on all week but that can wait for tomorrow. I gotta have a guy to do the lap dance with. When is Montell coming back?”

“Girl, why use Montell when you can use him?” The tall chick pointed at Erik. Erik looks over at Y/N, watching her eyes grow wide.

“Erik? No,” Y/N laughs, “He’s just here to watch until I’m done.”

The chubby chick that was talking to the camera guy came over to intrude, “Isn’t that your boyfriend though?”

“No. He’s my bestfriend and he’s just going to watch.”

“Well, can I use him for my routine then? I put a little something something together to Ciara- Body Party and I need a nigga to pop this ass on. He so cute, Y/N. Hi bestfriend!” The pretty chubby girl waved at Erik who returned the wave with a smile on his full lips.

“He is cute. How can you just be friends with that?”

“Dominique,” Y/N was referring to the taller chick, “Erica,” She looked over at the short plump girl, “I’m using him for my routine.” Y/N spoke with finality. Wasn’t no chick in that class gonna put ass on him if it wasn’t her.

“Oh? Why the change of heart?” Dominique folded her arms while giving Y/N a sassy smile. Y/N didn’t say a word as she walked away, looking over at Erik before sticking her tongue out at him. He was in a fit of laughter, clutching his chest and everything.

Y/N was dressed in a black thong with sheer black stockings that had tiny rhinestones on it, a tiny black and gold wrap top that made her breast sit high and black stilettos on her feet. All that ass out and bouncing each time she walked. Erik knew his bestfriend has body but damn, he never saw her like this. Y/N was fumbling with a wall audio system that was installed to play throughout the studio. She found the song she wanted, pausing it, then grabbing a chair to bring in the center of the dance floor. The other ladies crowded around and the camera guy set up so that it was facing her. Y/N then walked over to Erik, a roll of her eyes while trying to fight a smile. She got down in front of him in a squat, talking closely with him. Erik leaned forward on his elbows to hear her.

“Okay, so I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that but,” She sighed, “I’m gonna need you for my routine.”

“Hmm,” Erik smirked, “What I gotta do?”

Y/N licked her lips, “All you gotta do is sit in that chair for me. You’ll be in that chair while I do all the work, alright?”

“Let me ask you something,” Erik narrowed his eyes, “Why did you change your mind so quick?”

Y/N rolled her eyes away from him before kissing her teeth, “You gonna do that for me, or what?”

“You ain’t off the hook, ma,” Erik stood up, while looking down at Y/N who was still in a squat position while staring up the valley of his body to connect with his eyes, “You gon’ tell me after this class.”

“Whatever,” Y/N finally got up, grabbing Erik’s hand with force, walking him to the middle of the dance floor. He wasn’t nervous one bit. He wanted to see what his bestie could do.

“Sit.” She instructed, earning oooo’s and ahhhh’s from the ladies around them. Erik raises his brows at her before taking his seat real slow, legs wide and one arm stretched over the back of the chair. He motioned with his head for Y/N to get started, his eyes intense and heated. Y/N motioned for one of the girls she started the class with to play her song.

Beyoncé- Rocket began to play.

Let me sit this ass

On you

Y/N sat down real slow on Erik while looking back at him. She wound her hips, back arching and ass moving up the length of his crotch nice and gently. She did a spin on his lap, her leg going up and over his head so she could straddle him. Her hands grabbed at his shoulders before pulling on his shirt to bring him closer to her. She made him watch her while her hips moved over him. Erik has to hold onto the sides of the chair.

Show you how I feel

Let me take this off

Will you watch me

Yes, mass appeal

Don't take your eyes

Don't take your eyes off it

Watch it, babe

If you like

You can touch me baby

Do you

Do you wanna touch me baby, ooh

Grab a hold, don't let go

Let me know

That you

Ready (ready)

Erik looked at her with eyes so deeply filled with desire there was no denying his attraction to his bestfriend. Y/N held those eyes with her low ones, before grabbing his jaw to tease him. She almost touched his lips with hers but she pulled away before Erik could even get a taste.

I just wanna show you now

Slow it down

Go around

You rock hard

Y/N stood up, getting down on her knees in front of Erik while running a hand from his chest down to his crotch that was indeed rock hard.

I rock steady

She bounced up and down in a squat to demonstrate how steady she would rock on that hard dick. A few chicks wolf whistled at that, cheering her on.

And rock right up to the side of my mountain

Climb until you reach my peak baby, peak babe, peak

And reach right into the bottom of my fountain

Y/N pats her kitty kat to indicate where that fountain he needed to find was.

I wanna play in your deep baby, your deep baby, deep

Then dip me under where you can feel my river flowing and flow

Y/N went back on the floor, her legs coming all the way up to rest on each side of her head. She was open like the peace sign. Her hands ran up her body, eyes still on Erik to show him that she was nothing to play with. He gave her a sly smirk that showed off a single dimple. So this how she got down? She danced all freaky like this? Showing him where she wanted him to go with his hardness?

Hold me 'til I scream for air to breathe

She grabs her neck, body arching from the floor. Erik could feel his dick growing stiffer.

And wash me over until my well runs dry

Send all your sins all over me, babe, me baby, me

Rock it…

Y/N got up from the floor, swaying her hips. She stared into the camera, moving in those heels like she was wearing a pair of sneakers. Erik didn’t know she was this flexible. When she arched her back to pop her ass, getting into a split stance while running her hand on her crotch he wanted to lift from that chair, pick her up, and hold the back of her neck while making her pop her ass on his hard crotch. He had to have restraint because this is her routine but FUCKKK, was it hard.

Rock it 'til waterfalls

Rock it 'til waterfalls

Rock it 'til waterfalls

Bathe in these waterfalls

She grinned her hips into the floor before bringing her legs up from behind, her heels almost touching the back of her head before rolling over to lift a single leg in the air, grinding her hips forward. She was showing him what that body could do. She was showing him exactly how freaky his bestfriend could be.

I do it like it's my profession

I gotta make a confession

I'm proud of all this bass

When you put it in your face

She stood, arching forward, and grabbing her ankles while looking back at Erik. Her ass popped and swayed from side to side.

By the way, if you need a personal trainer or a therapist

I can be a piece of sunshine, inner peace, entertainer

Anything else that you may read between the lines

You and I create rockets and waterfalls

“YES HUNTY!” One of them yelled out while snapping their fingers.

“THATS IT Y/N!”

Erik nods his head in approval. He found himself rocking to the beat while tapping a single foot and grinding his hips in the chair. She rode that song with so much ease. Beyoncé’s voice mixed with her sensual moves had everyone in that room watching in complete silence now. The song played on and then that’s when it became really intense...

I can't help but love the way we make love

Daddy, daddy

Ooh child, ooh now

Yes, Lord, damn baby

She was going crazy. Popping her ass, arching her back, looking at Erik with her mouth hanging open. Swinging her head from side to side, running her hands over her breasts before jiggling them. That continuous Daddy, Daddy, has Erik losing his mind. The self control was unraveling.

You driving me cray, cray, yeah

You ain't right for doing it to me like that daddy

Y/N crawled towards him. She was staring at him like she wanted to rip his clothes off and show some attention to the hard dick that she felt growing in his pants. When she made it over to him, she got into a handstand, her legs widening into a split, before descending back on him, her legs wrapping around his waist while Erik pulled her forward with his hands on her hips.

Even though

I've been a bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad girl

Y/N bends her body back while grinding on him so hard and forceful that Erik couldn’t help but to grind up into her on that chair. His hips were lifting from the chair.

Tell me what you're gonna do about that

He wanted to do something right fucking now. Y/N was driving him crazy. His growls and moans were trapped in his throat because of everyone surrounding him.

Punish me please

Punish me please

Daddy what you're going to do with all of this

Ass

Y/N turns around, her ass rubbing along his chest. Erik moves his hands down her back before slapping her ass, causing Y/N to gasp and everyone around them to cheer and clap.

All up in your face, yeah

Hell yeah

Love me so deep

Ooh my shit's so good it ain't even right

This shit wasn’t fair. She bounced on his lap in a continuous rhythm to the freaky beat. Since she wanted to give him a little lap dance to this beat she was definitely going to fuck him to this song. Bestie or not.

I know I'm right

Hell yeah you the shit

That's why you're my equivalent

So sexy

To Erik’s disappointment, Y/N got up from his lap, circling him in the chair before standing behind him. She lowered her arms over his shoulders from behind, taking her fingers to drag his muscle tee up to reveal his chiseled body. Abs flexed, skin so smooth even with the raised scars, her nails clawing lightly at his ripped abs all the way up to his chest. Her lips lightly touched the side of neck, giving him a lick there while the song faded out. The room erupted with applause at her routine. Y/N wrapped her arms around Erik’s neck, rocking him back and forth with a big smile on her face. Erik grabs her arms, holding them with a grin on his lips. Y/N did her thing.

“Girllllllllllll,” Dominique shouted while coming over to hug Y/N, “You had your bestfriend ready to hop off this chair and handle you, girl.”

“Oh? Really?” Y/N spoke into Erik’s ear before giving him a quick peck on the cheek, “I’m sorry I put this ass on you and you couldn’t do anything about it.”

Erik clenched his jaw. She only fueled him more.

“Nothing to say? Hmm?” She dragged on.

Erik looked up at her with a tilt of his head. She knew those hard domineering eyes meant one thing and one thing only: she was going to get it for sure. He had something for her after this class.

[areptvclown]

Of Proposals and Petrichor

Written for @the-lion-witch (Sorry it took a bit hun!)

Prompt: 25. Wet kisses after finding refuge from the rain

No triggers, just fluff

This wasn't how this night was supposed to go. Far from it. Cassian had planned this anniversary date for weeks. Working tirelessly to make sure even the tiniest detail was held at the utmost satisfaction. From the gondola ride just as night set in Velaris, where the stars twinkled brightly overhead. To a four-course dinner, he handpicked with Sevenda. She would wait on him and his love of three years, Nesta. In a secluded candlelit spot, a balcony on the third floor of her restaurant that overlooked the entirety of the city. Cassian went to the lengths of a hiring musician for the evening. A cello player that would play a soothing, classy melody. Truth be told he didn’t care what song it was. Just for the cellist to play something light and tender, to fit the mood in furthering his relationship. When they had finished their courses, Nesta would smirk licking off the remaining mousse. Slowly swirling her pink tongue around a silver spoon the way she knew it drove him crazy. Cassian would push thoughts of that wicked tongue away. Opting to curl an arm around her waist, slide fingers in between hers and just be. Simply sway to the music for a beat or two, till he broke away and dropped to one knee. Awaiting the answer that would make his life or crush his heart.

And yet with a roll of thunder, a crash of lightning lit up the sky like a match, and the downfall of rain fit for a drought destroyed it. He snorted at the irony of it all as they ran from the heavy fall of rain. To make matters worse, the water was more like droplets of ice. Chilling their skin at each touch. His only saving grace was the hotel room he booked was only a few blocks away and he prayed that Sevenda noticed his message. Asking her to stop whatever meal preparations she was doing.

Cassian slid his onyx blazer off his arms, pulling Nesta close as he held the wet jacket over her. Not like it helped much, her pinned back auburn tresses were coming undone, and her hair began to hold a slight frizz to it. The lengthy mascara she chose that evening had begun to stream down her face. Frustration flashed in grey-blue eyes.

"Did you think to check the weather?" She questioned gritting her teeth

"All part of the plan, princess," he winked at her grinning. Nesta's features turned into a glare that could turn a man to stone. There was no anger behind her stare, only disbelief.

 

During the day, Nesta noticed how nerve wrecked he seemed to be. She couldn’t place a finger on why. This wasn’t the first time he planned an evening for them. Cassian loved spoiling the cauldron out of her. Which included lavish, romantic evenings. Such as the one she believed should be happening right now. Instead of running through the heavy fall of rain. This one night had him in a frenzy and it frustrated her to no end that she couldn’t figure it out. When the rain came down a mere twenty minutes ago, she didn’t miss the look of annoyance that crossed his ruggedly handsome features. Cassian seemed as if the unexpected shower single-handedly wrecked the evening. Though it was their anniversary she would have been content in their home. With her bare feet settled over his lap as she read a book. Cassian gently massaging the balls of her feet.

Her heels clicked along the slick pavements that shimmered from the moonlight and the rainfall. Nesta tried to keep up with her boyfriend. As much as she appreciated him keeping her close and shielding her from the storm, it made things difficult. Her hands busied picking up the skirts of her drenched gown as it clung to the shape of her body. The emerald dress adorned with intricate beadings, like morning dew drops on blades of grass seemed to only become heavier with each step. It only aided in her frustration. Her legs ached and her chest burned running at his pace. He was the fitness one in their relationship, who could jog or workout for hours at a time. Though Nesta joined him on gym trips, when it came to running she was always a few steps ahead. At this moment, she felt pity for any actress who ran in heels.

“Cassian,” she called out between breaths, “ You have to slow, ah fuck!”

Nesta’s silver heel caught in between the cracks of the pavement. The whole world seemed to slow as Nesta outstretched her arm reaching for him. Fingertips grasped his arm, taking Cassian with her falling onto the sidewalk, splashing into a pool of water. lovely. Nesta and his blazer receiving the brunt of the fall. Nesta could feel her dress absorbing all the wetness. Her ankle began throbbing as soon as her body hit the slick ground. She wanted to go home. This evening turned from bad to worse at a moment’s notice and Nesta was done with it. The only thing she cared for now, was the comfort of her couch, warm clothes, and Cassian tending to her throbbing ankle. Not the four-star hotel, or exquisite dinners.

Cassian quickly pulled himself off her, hair black as night sticking to him as water poured down from his forehead, dripping off his eyelashes and down his strong cheekbones. Hazel eyes looked over Nesta, wrought in concern and sympathy.

“Nes, are you okay?” he asked knowing the answer, but her furious stare bought him time to double-check his pocket. Making sure the small box hadn’t tumbled out when they crashed down. To his relief, it remained secure, tucked in the depths of his slacks.

“No Cassian! I’m pretty fucking far from okay. I just want to go home. I don’t care about the hotel or anything else you planned. Take us home,” she was silent for a beat, “Please,” He nodded hiding his glance of hurt at her request. They were right there. They were so close to the hotel where he could still save this night. She tried to stand when he offered her his hand. She winced collapsing to the ground again, “ My ankle. I think I twisted it,”

Cassian scooped her up in his embrace, sliding an arm over her back resting beneath her breast and the other under her knees lifting her with ease. Nesta wrapped her arms around his neck. Burying her face into the soaked collar of his button-down. Shielding her face from the oncoming downpour which seemed to pelt them harder with each step. The scent of amber, patchouli, and sandalwood surrounding her. Nesta always relished in the scent of his cologne. No matter how stressed she was in the moment. His scent always seemed to ease her. It’s why she bought him more bottles than any man could ever need. Tightly he held her running towards a coffee shop with a large canopy above the front door. He settled her on the dry ground underneath it. Carefully pulling the silver high heel. Nesta whimpered as he did so. Her ankle had already started to swell. With a featherlight touch, he pressed into her bruising skin, feeling the tender spot. Her face twisted in agony as she turned her face away. Cassian undid his silken tie the color of her dress, wrapping her sprained ankle within it. It was the best he could for now. Gingerly he kissed the fabric. He sighed in defeat, running a thumb from the tip of the cheekbone to her mouth, sweeping over the bottom lip. Wiping away the wetness as he pressed his lips against her soft and welcoming ones. Chilled by the cold rainfall. He didn’t care, he only pushed his warm mouth further into hers as if the kiss alone would be a blanket of warmth. Her fingers laid on his slick grey button-down pulling Cassian down to her. He laughed against her.

 

“We should get that ankle taken care of before we finish this,” he commented smiling down at her. Soon as the smile came it had faded into nothingness. Cassian knew this was a risk to push the subject., “Nes, I know you said, you wanted to go home. The hotel is right around the corner. It’s closer.”

She sat there studying him, pushing away towards the wall behind her, “Cas..” she warned.

“I can mend it faster,” he rushed out, rubbing the back of his neck with not one, but both hands. Cassian stared at the floor, his eyes darting along the sidewalk. Like he was trying to think of a plan and quickly. She hardly has seen him this worked up a few times. This wasn’t her normal Cassian, “Give you a foot rub minus the ankle, hot food, the champagne you like is chilling and waiting,” pressing his lip in a thin line, working his jaw back and forth, “but if you want to go home-

 

“Why are you pushing this so hard? By now, you would have given up and called an uber home. It’s just dinner.”

“It’s not. It wasn’t supposed to be,” he muttered out so lowly she barely heard him over the rain beating on the canopy above and thunder roaring through the skies.

“Hey,” she took his hand in hers, a thumb tracing along his palm, “what are you not telling me?”

They never kept secrets from each other. Her heart matched the thunder above as panic seeped into her bones. Cassian stayed by her side, silent as a shadow yet sickly and pale like a ghost. His hand fumbling in the pocket. Nesta couldn’t tell if he was shaking from wet clothes or nerves, “Babe? You’re worrying me.” Nesta tried to rattle her mind thinking of what he could be hiding. They shared everything. A home, their dogs, phone plans, and bank counts. Even Cassian’s clothes and Nesta’s face care. Practically married in every way, but marriage itself. Her eyes went wide at the sudden realization.

Marriage.

 

“Cassian?” his name off her lips came out in more of a sob, as her mind truly grasped what she came to the conclusion of.

Cassian looked at her. Gods even with her hair soaked and a mess. Strands sticking out here and there. Her makeup running, gown twisted around her legs and most likely ruined. She still took his breath away. He hadn’t even realized his hand found itself back in his pocket fiddling with the small box. His heart hammered in his chest, beating wildly like a bat in a cage trying to break free. His palms were sweating and he swore he was going to vomit on the slick pavement. Before this night was ruined he had everything planned, even a speech. Right now all those words he had memorized about how long he loved her. How she saw him for him and not the goofy guy everyone else did. how she walked into his life stubborn as hell like a boulder crashing through walls he had around his heart. Just as he knew he was the fire to melt the ice around hers. And other romantic shit he just couldn’t think of right now. Before he could stop himself the words came out, easier than he thought possible.

“Marry me.”

Only the sound of rainfall and thunder around them made any noise. Nesta couldn't breathe, her chest tightening while the question ran through her mind. Marry me. Yes, they loved each other, but she never thought in a million years he’d do this. Soon she had prepared he’d walk out of her life. They all do, even her mother had. Her father always prized her sisters. Her sisters never understood Nesta causing a rift between them. But Cassian, he wanted to stay. To take the next step. From the first day they met, he saw through her cold exterior. When her depression hit, he never shied away how others did. It was like he was made for her, her best friend, her soulmate. Even still, she couldn’t believe anyone would love her enough to marry her.

She blinked slowly, “You. You want to marry me?”

Cassian didn’t speak as he pulled the black box from his pocket. Almost as if he was in a daze, flicking the box open, showing her the ring. She gasped looking it shimmer under the soft glow of the sign in the window behind them reading now closed. The ring itself. She marveled at it. He truly got her. Nesta was no ordinary woman and no center diamond would suffice. He never once asked her what kind of ring she’d like. Nesta felt her body swell with emotion. That someone took their time and learned her from the inside out. Nesta stared at the ring in awe. By the dim light's glow, she could tell it was a rose gold band. Small diamonds lined each side of the center oval shape gem, alexandrite. It was a perfect blend of them. One could argue it was their favorite colors. But she knew the symbolism behind it. Ice and fire. A gemstone for the two of them.

His confidence in his expression waived but his words held firm as he repeated it, “Marry Me, “ His eyes met hers, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed thickly. A shaking hand takes her own, “Nesta Archeron I love you more than words can say. You’re my equal, my strength, my soulmate. Marry me.”

Nesta looked at the ring again then back up at Cassian, she could see the glossiness in his eyes. The fear and anticipation displayed prominently in those stunning marbled orbs of pine and amber. Funny cause she felt the sting of her own as her eyes brimmed with tears. Her lips trembled as a shudder ran through her veins.

“Please say something.”

Nesta braced the pain of ankle searing through her as she moved closer to him. Only in her wildest dreams did she think this day would occur. Yet here it was. Under a canopy in the middle of a thunderstorm. She rested her palms against the drenched freezing fabric of his clothes. Leaning up she brushed her lips against his. She poured her answer onto his soft, wet lips. Her hands clasping the sides of his face as she did so. Nesta pulled away. Sliding back a strand of his hair. She could feel the sting of tears pouring from eyes melding with the wetness already on her face. She didn’t care. The pain in her ankle, the tears down her face, her shivering body, none of it mattered. Inside she was alive with warmth and love or her boyfriend, or fiance for that matter. Whom she realized was still waiting for an answer. Nesta touched her forehead to his.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” She heard the breath he’d been holding let go before she crashed his lips to hers. Nesta wrapped her arms around him kissing him soundly. Tasting the saltiness from the soft trickling of tears shared between the two. Cassian pulled the ring out from the box. Slipping the band on to her finger. She laughed against his lips, “You know. I think I’d like to go to that hotel now.”

A boyish smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, “oh?”

“I’d like to hurry up and celebrate with my fiance. He told me there’s champagne, and hot food, something about a foot massage.”

Cassian slipped her second heel off, placing the pair over her belly. Once again taking his future bride in his arms. Carrying her the same way he would in a soft flowy gown of pristine white, and not drenched in a emerald one.

 Check it out on ao3

Want a kissing drabble? Send me an ask

[lilmissbeanie]

Navigation Haikyuu Masterlist

Kotaro Bokuto x F!Reader.  Fluffy Word Count ~ 1.6k Happy birthday to @wing-dingding​ have a great day girl! The chorus of cackles and laughs echoed down Fukurodani hallways as Bokuto, and Y/n ran away from Akaashi.   

The chorus of cackles and laughs echoed down Fukurodani hallways as Bokuto, and Y/n ran away from Akaashi.

Another prank successfully completed.  

The air horn echoed through the building once again as Akaashi and Komi yelled after them. Akaashi hated the mischievous best friends together; this always happens, the other day, they came over to hang out with him at his house and set his alarm clock in his room, and it went off at four thirty-six in the morning. His toothpaste had Orajel put in making his entire mouth go numb for hours. They were all harmless pranks, week in week out continuously finding new ones, how they had not run out of ideas yet was a mystery to everyone. The pranks they pulled on each other were just as ridiculous, just last week Y/n had superglued Bokuto's locker shut, and he had switched her locker with his volleyball one.   

They had been best friends forever, their mums were best friends, and these two had been together since they were in nappies all the way to high school, they never left one another's side. "BOKUTO! L/N!" The voice rang through the building, instantly the pair tensed up, turning around to spot the coach.  

"Oh, hey, Coach!" Bokuto said, pretending that nothing was happening. The pair stood with their hands linked behind their backs rocking back and forth on the balls of their feet, making you think that these two weren't in their third year of high school or either was the respected captain or the manager of the volleyball team.   

"You need to stop with the pranks!" The pair bit back a grin crossing their fingers before nodding. Coach knew though he damn well knew that nothing was going to change, they had been like that since their first year, no matter how many times they get told off or in trouble they will never stop, and he wouldn’t be kicking either from the team seeing as Y/n helped stop the emo modes and she was very good at her job as manager.   

Y/n batted the finger poking shoulder away, as she rolled over pulling her duvet closer, "psst!" Her eyes squeezing tighter, swearing this was all in her dream, “Y/n, wake up” she felt her shoulder being shocked, groaning rubbing her eyes as they opened to be met by a pair of golden ones she knew all too well.   

"Kou?!" She groaned sitting up, she grabbed her phone, seeing it was three AM on this autumn's Saturday morning.   

"Come on! Maccies run!" He cheered quietly, his hand wrapping around her wrist tugging her gently out of the bed. This wasn't the first time he had snuck into her room at some ungodly hour. She left her window ajar for this reason. Her own eyes lit up at the word food, suddenly very awake, allowing him to tug her out of bed, her feet met her soft fluffy rug "let me put some clothes on." Tugging at her short tweedy pie baby pink cotton pyjama trousers and bralette, feeling slightly self-conscious in front of him.  

"No need, here." He said, slyly playing off how hot she looked in her pyjamas as grabbed one of his many hoodies she had stolen from him from her desk chair. "We're only getting drive-through."   

The pair snuck down the stairs as Y/n grabbed her keys and wallet from by the front door and they jumped into Bokuto's car and headed for the nearest Maccies drive thru. They pair just laughing at stupid jokes, singing along to the radio and generally just enjoying one another's company.  Finally arriving the pair order their food before driving to their favourite place on top of a hill where they sit looking over their town lit up with t. Taking a seat on the bonnet of the car, they munched down their food. Bokuto was always impressed by the way she demolished twenty chicken nuggets and a double cheeseburger with a large chocolate milkshake.    

The pair sat there watching the stars and enjoying the view, Y/n leaned against Bokuto's shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, "I love when we do stuff like this Kou."  

"Me too lil bird, me too." Both praying that neither of them could feel the way goosebumps erupted over their skin as they touched or the way their heart raced.  

They sat in silence, just enjoying being in each other's presence, but Y/n knew there was something on Bokuto’s mind by the way his eyebrows and he kept fidgeting in place as they watched the sky turn from dark to light, the rosy golden colours painted the skyline.   

“You okay Kou?” She questioned gently, making the boy jump, he blinked a couple of times bringing himself out of his thoughts and turned to face her, a small smile spread over his lips. “I was just thinking.” 

“Don’t push yourself too hard, you'll hurt yourself.” The h/c girl teased him. Causing the boy to chuckle slightly, shaking his head and nudging her with his shoulder gently. “Just wondering whether I should tell the girl I like how I feel or not.”   

Y/n felt her heart tighten, he liked someone. “Of course, you should! Why wouldn't you.” She tried her best to sound enthusiastic and happy for him.   

Y/n watched as he shrugged, before replying, “Well I don’t want it to ruin our friendship if she doesn’t feel the same way, she is too much of a good friend.”  

Y/n racked her brain trying to work out who it could be, other than her, it could be the other two managers of the volleyball club. “Anyone would be lucky to be with you Kou, you should tell them.”   

“If we get to nationals then I’ll tell them.” He nodded to himself with a smile, finally deciding. “So next week.” The girl next to him smirked. His smile dropped realising it would be next week, that was barely enough time to work out what he was going to say. He was going to need Akaashi’s help.   

"Kou, whatever happens, I will always be here for you. Birds of a feather flock together as the saying goes and my oath to you is that I will always be by your side no matter what. Okay?" 

"Okay" He smiled, resting his head on hers, "Same goes to you, you will always have a home with me."  

The week flew by quickly, the inter high tournament arrived in a blur, Akaashi helped Bokuto plan out how he was going to tell and even roped the rest of the team and the other managers in. The day of the final rolled around, warmups ended, and the two girls walked away, leaving the h/c confused, “where are you going, isn't it Yuki’s day on the bench?” The two smiled and shook their heads at her.   

“Yea but you are Bokuto's best friend, he’s going to need you here and it’s the last time he is going to play in the high school inter high.” They smiled at the girl before leaving the court and heading up to the stands to watch the match from the stands.   

It was a good match, Bokuto emo mode only happened once during the second set and it didn’t take him long to snap out of it, Y/n eyes were trained on her best friend, fuck, he looked hot in his in his volleyball short and those knee pads, Y/n was having to remind herself not to drool at the sight. Of course, Fukurodani won and they would be moving on to nationals. The stands filled with the cheers from their schoolmates. Y/n jumped up from the bench running over to the team, “Kou!” She called out to him. He turns in Y/n direction, his golden orbs filled with excitement as he opens his arms in time to catch her jumping into them, Y/n wrapping around her his broad muscular shoulders, not caring that he was all sweaty from the match and her legs around his waist. Bokuto’s arms weaved around her waist as Bokuto his face buried into her neck inhaling her sweet floral scent as he spun them around, her happy infection giggles floated his ears making him grin.   

“Y/n?” He questioned, slowly coming to a stop, he kept his arms securely around her waist not allowing her to touch solid ground not until he had told her, he needed her full attention he needed her to hear this. Tilting her head to the side she watched those golden orbs flicker with hesitation and confidence in them as well. Y/n own gaze held a questioning look as she watched him fight the inner turmoil inside of him, her arms now loosely draped over his shoulders, golden orbs fluttering shut inhaling deeply through his nose. His eyes flickered open meeting hers once again, holding a serious look. “I love you, like I’m in love with you.”  

Her eyes widened, as the words filled her eyes, slowly realised what he had said, “For real?” Worry filled his face as he slowly dubiously nodded his head, yes. A shy smile spread over lips as her eyes lit up, cupping his cheeks, Y/n leaned down gently placing her lips against his, enjoying the nervous and timid yet so pure and loving first kiss they shared, before pulling away, “I’m in love with you too.” looking him dead in the eyes, love and adoration swirled in her e/c orbs.  

“Finally!” Komi cheers filled the air, shocking the pair as they turned to the sound of his voice realising everyone was watching them, forgetting they were still standing in the middle of the court. Y/n face was buried in Bokuto's neck within seconds trying to conceal the blush that erupted over her face, while Bokuto stood there proudly with his girl in his arms. Akaashi gave him a rare smile and thumbs up, he had got the girl he always wanted.

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