#hello i need you to sedate me

[doublestandardlove]

comphet is going to be the death of me T-T

it's clawing at my neck trying to convince me that i have a crush on my co-worker... like. shawty, what?

"he offered to help you clean up a spill !!"

"he told you to come to him if you had any questions !!"

"he gave you some of his nuggets from chick fil a !!"

okay maybe you've got a point ... NO- leave me aloneeee please T-T i get it, we're desperate, leave him out of this

[mygnolia]

everytime sunghoon wins a rugby match he pulls at his jersey and jumps with his friends, sweat clinging to his hair and gleaming over his perfect skin. he’s so attractive when he’s victorious, a knowing smirk as he hears the intercom announce yet another smashing win. and yet through all the noise, through the pats on the back and the itch of the padding, he sees you near, jumping to your friend in a jersey identical to his—you’re wearing his old jersey with 12 to represent december, and the number on his to represent your birthmonth.

and the kiss after? oh, you’d kiss him no matter how gross he is. park sunghoon with a smirk and your number on his jersey is a man you are lucky to call yours.

[mazojo]

Yo why is Johnny Bananas on my reality TV emotional support show. AGAIN.

[etlu-yume]

Lightside Darkside

it's a weird time. it's a hard time.

Hazard Zone/PMDD/Mood Swings/Dark Side/Whatever you want to call it kicked in at the start of the week.

(I say kicked. It crawled. There was a moment on Saturday. And i could just feel it coming in slowly the week before. Slow. Patient.)

This time it's weird. In some ways it's better. In some ways it's worse. Some days have been savable!

Others have not.

Some have been good - but almost to the point of questioning whether there's a side of mania creeping in, or if it's just when I'm not being held down by Darkside Swing.

Some days have been mentally and physically awful.

But today, so far, is a mostly good day.

Looking back at how this week panned out, it concerns me how the next ~10 days could play out. I've seen and felt the swings get more intense the later the next cycle is.

And I'm not exactly thrilled at what the opening act had to offer.

[veryinnovative]

Come here let me kiss you

[covenofagatha]

A dance with death (and her wife) (Part 1)

@lanfear-is-my-darkmistress

You are a profiler for the FBI when you get called to help catch a serial killer in Westview. (Killing Eve/Hannibal AU)

Word count: 4200

Warnings: descriptions of violence, fear

The phone rings at 7:30 in the morning on your day off and you want to throw it against the wall. 

You had been sleeping – having a very good dream, actually – when the harsh ringtone roughly jolts you out of your slumber. 

“Hello?” you answer groggily, rubbing your face with your hand. If it’s a spam call, you think you might lose your mind. 

“Is this Agent Y/L/N?” A gruff voice asks and you shoot up out of bed into the sitting position. 

You clear your throat and try to sound professional. “Um, yes, this is she. Who am I speaking with?”

“This is Director Hayward,” the man says, and your eyes widen. The head of the FBI is calling you. “Have you heard of the town of Westview?” 

Your forehead wrinkles while you rack your brain for anything that sounds familiar. “No, sir, I don’t think so.” 

There’s muffled sounds from the other side of the phone and then you can hear Director Hayward clearly. “It’s a small town in New Jersey. Nothing special, nothing too out of the ordinary.” He pauses like you’re supposed to recognize it, but after a moment of silence he sighs and continues. “About seven months ago, we believe a pair of serial killers moved into town. Bodies started piling up, seemingly no rhyme or reason to who was killed, only that the victims were all female.” 

“Okay,” you say slowly, trying to wrap your head around all this. If it’s been going on for this long, why haven’t you heard about it? “Are we sure they’re connected if there’s no pattern of victim? Usually men have a type when they do this kind of thing; the women usually look like an ex-lover who broke their heart, or their mom.” 

You can practically hear him roll his eyes through the phone. “They were all killed the same way: poison to sedate them and then their hearts were carved out. And there was a purple azalea left in every single one of the victims’ chest cavities. So we’re pretty sure they’re connected.” Sarcasm drips copiously from his tone and you wince. Way to make a good first impression on the director of the FBI. “And it’s not a man. It’s a woman.” 

This makes you perk up with interest. “Oh?” As a profiler for a branch of the FBI in Miami, you’ve handled your fair share of serial killers. It may make you sound insensitive, but you were only really interested in the female ones. Men were so boring and predictable. Women knew how to make it a challenge, and there was always some deep, underlying motive for why they did it. There was nothing you enjoyed more than piecing together that puzzle. 

“They’re calling her The Witch. The poison used on the victims is like nothing we’ve ever seen before, so we think she must be making it herself. But since female serial killers are kind of your thing–” 

You cut him off before you can think twice, thoughts whirling through your head. “How do you know it’s a woman? Cutting out a heart, that takes a lot of strength. Most female serial killers tend to use gentler methods, like poison, so it makes sense that there’s at least one woman involved. Are you sure she isn’t working with someone though? Lavinia Fisher would poison her victims and then her husband would finish the job.” 

“How quickly can you get to Westview?” He asks, completely ignoring your question. 

“Oh, you want me to go there?” 

He scoffs. “Yes, Agent, we want you to go there. I’ve already informed your boss and he’s given his approval. No one has been better at catching the female killers than you, so we really need you on this. You can take the Miami jet as soon as you’re ready, but they want you there as soon as possible.” 

“Will I be working with the Trenton branch?” 

“Just the Westview PD for now. They’ve assured us that they have their best detectives on the case. But if you need backup, let us know and we can send in some more profilers. Whatever it takes to bring this woman to justice.” He hangs up without another word and you grab your to-go suitcase that you keep packed for times like these. You throw in a few extra sets of clothes just in case it takes longer than expected, and then you’re out the door, driving to Headquarters. 

You walk into your boss’s office and knock on the door. The director of the Miami branch, Tony Stark, looks up at you. “Hope you packed some warm clothes,” he says and you chuckle. You definitely did not.

“Hayward said I could take the jet?”

Tony nods. “It’s out back and already fueled up. Good luck, kid. Be careful, okay?” 

You scoff. “Careful? I’m always careful.” He fixes you with a stern look and you acquiesce. “I promise.” 

“I don’t need to remind you what happened last time you worked on a case like this, do I?” 

It hits you like a punch to the gut and you shake your head. “No, sir, you do not.” But you know he’s going to tell you anyway. 

“That woman destroyed you,” he hisses. “You got so focused on finding her that you stopped eating and sleeping. The obsession completely consumed you.” 

“I caught her, didn’t I?” You mutter, knowing full well that isn’t his point. He slams his hands down on his desk and you jump. 

“She almost killed you,” he almost yells and your face twists at the memory. 

The Scarlet Killer terrorized Miami about three years ago before you finally brought her down. At first, she would sneak into houses of families with twins and slit the parents’ throats and kidnap the kids, but the twins would always resist so she would end up killing them too. 

After a while, she stopped caring about the twin aspect and started killing anyone with children. 

You had spent days in the office, pacing and pouring over the evidence board, trying to make sense of it. There was no DNA anywhere, but there was also no sign of forced entry, so you figured that she was invited into the house somehow. The hunt for children made you think she had lost her own, or had some sort of abusive childhood that made her want to protect kids. She was possibly a twin as well, and very amicable if people were having her over willingly. 

It took two months before you figured out the perimeter of her murders. She was making a hexagon shape with the houses of the victims. Hexagons can represent balance, so you figured she felt as if she was balancing out some score with the universe for something that had happened to her. 

And then one fateful night, you realized where her next target was. A family had just moved into a house perfectly on the border of the hex, as people around the office started calling it, and they had twins. 

You spent almost an entire week camped out in front of their house waiting for the Scarlet Killer to strike. You think during that time, you slept a total of ten hours. Hallucinations plagued you and you would doze off and then wake up babbling something about catching her. Agents would bring food by your car and beg you to take a break, but you kept your eyes strained on the house, determined that you wouldn’t let her get away with it again, determined to prove that you were right about where she’d be.

And you were. 

Except the knocking that should’ve been on the front door of the house, the knocking that would inevitably lead to more death, was on your car window. 

You had jolted awake to find a redheaded woman standing there, looking worried. You opened the door and got out to help her when she had pulled a knife out and stabbed you in the stomach. 

Thank god she didn’t go for her usual M.O. of slitting throats. 

You were able to weakly unholster your gun and take a shot at her as she was running away and by the yelp, you knew you had hit her. A consolation prize as your vision faded to black. 

Somehow, you woke up two days later in a hospital room, Director Tony Stark by your bedside. They had caught the killer a block away thanks to the appendix your bullet had ruptured that rendered her unconscious, a woman named Wanda Maximoff, who had lost her twins in a horrible house fire, and made it a mission to try and replace them.

And her knife had missed anything important, and all you had was a nasty scar and the weariness from everyone else whenever there was a new female serial killer to catch. 

“She didn’t kill me though,” you tell Tony, who rolls his eyes. “I’ll be careful. I won’t get too involved this time.”

He slides open a drawer and takes out a file and a business card that he holds out to you. You reach across the desk to grab the two and you scan the card. 

Rio Vidal, Therapist, Westview. With an email and phone number. 

You hold it up and raise an eyebrow. “You want me to see a shrink?” You already completed your mandated fifteen hours of therapy after the Maximoff incident and you weren’t eager to go back. 

“You don’t have to, it’s just so you have an option. In case you feel yourself becoming too ‘involved.’” 

You purse your lips but you slip it into your pocket and tighten your grip on the file. “Guess I’ll see you whenever we catch her.” 

He salutes you and you make your way to the jet out back. 

It’s a three hour flight and you spend your entire time pouring over the case file. You know there’s still some information that you’ll have to get from the Westview PD, like witness statements and exclusive photos that haven’t been released yet, but what you do have is brutal. 

Photos of shriveled up bodies with barely any skin still on their bones, their cheeks hollowed out, like something sucked the life out of them. Not to be sexist, but you can tell why Director Hayward thought it was a woman. 

Although there’s a gaping hole in their chests where a heart used to be, the cuts are neat, precise. And the blood has been completely cleaned up. What should be the bloodiest crime scene you’ve ever seen is void of any fluid, like the killer methodically mopped and bleached and cleansed the scene of everything. But this also means that the victims are dead before the heart is cut out, from the poison. 

The most chilling thing is the singular, perfect flower placed in the cavity of their chest.

You flip through the toxicology reports but can’t really make sense of anything. One report says one chemical was the cause of death, another report says another. The levels of chemicals in the bloodstream are also different from victim to victim. 

It reminds you of Jolly Jane Toppan, who would experiment with different medicines and chemicals to murder patients at hospitals. 

Is the killer a nurse? A chemist? You’re able to figure out why she’s called The Witch, because it’s like she’s brewing up potions of sorts, but you have no idea why she would bother cutting their hearts out if she’s killing them with poison. 

The precision of the blade also means that her hands are steady. Another reason she could be a nurse. 

You flip through the pictures of all the victims – eleven, so far – and the first victim’s cut is just as accurate as the last victim. This woman is either a natural, or this isn’t the first time she’s killed. 

Pulling out your computer, you search the database for any serial killer cases that match this same type of crime, male or female. You’re still not entirely convinced she’s working alone. 

But there’s nothing. No cold cases, no open cases. She has truly shown up out of nowhere. 

You tap your fingers to the tray table, your mind trying to make sense of the details for the rest of the flight. 

When the plane lands, you’re ushered into an uber and taken to the motel where you’ll be staying. Your rental car is already in the parking lot. Even though Westview is a small town, it means a lot that they’re giving you all these accommodations. 

Your room is complete with a kitchenette, a queen sized bed, and a good sized bathroom. You drop the files on the table, throw your suitcase in the bedroom, and grab your work bag before locking the door behind you. 

The rental car is a small sedan that has a strange smell, but it does the job and you drive through the quaint twisting roads to get to the police station. You park up front, take a deep breath, and walk in. 

No one stops you or asks what you’re doing here (no wonder this case hasn’t been solved yet) so you make your way to the back where you find the Chief’s office. 

He’s a skinny man with a mustache, spots of something that looks like mustard on his shirt, talking to a woman with her back to you. All you can tell is that she has long, dark hair that flows down your back.

“Hi, excuse me?” You say, knocking on the glass door. The Chief stops and the woman turns around to face you and you’re momentarily struck by how attractive she is. “I’m Agent Y/N? The, uh, criminal profiler from Miami? The FBI sent me to help with The Witch case.” 

“Oh, shoot, that’s right,” the man says, wiping his hands on his jacket before standing up. “Chief Phil Jones. This is Detective Agatha Harkness–” He motions to the woman standing there who smiles knowingly, raking her eyes up and down your body. “– our best. She’s been working this case day and night.” 

“Any leads so far?” You ask her. 

“Why don’t I show you what we have so far?” She offers and you nod, following her out of the office and trying not to look at her ass. She takes you into  a different room with a bulletin board filled with pictures and string and post-it notes. You squint at it, trying to take everything in, while you hear more people enter the room behind you. 

“So, Miami, what do you think?” A man taunts and a few others snicker at him. You ignore him, you’ve been used to this your entire career. 

You’re still scanning the board when something catches your eye. The witness statements. They don’t corroborate with each other. From the six people that have seen something, they all agree that the killer had dark hair. But some say it was long, others say just past her shoulders. Some think she was taller and lean, others say shorter and just a little more filled out. There’s a detail from two witnesses that gives you pause though: they say the woman had a mask of sorts on the bottom of her face, almost like a skeleton. The other witnesses make no mention of not being able to see the killer’s entire face. 

You tap the papers. “Why don’t the statements line up?” 

“Surely you know how unreliable eyewitness testimony is,” Agatha drawls, and when you turn around, she’s watching you carefully. 

You frown. “I do know, but it seems like there’s two different people here. So either we have a copycat, which would be unlikely due to there being no change in the level of detailedness from murder to murder, or–” You trail off, chewing on your lip. You’re waiting for someone, Agatha maybe, to finish the sentence, or to tell you you’re being crazy. 

“Or?” She prompts like she’s daring you to go on. There’s a look in her eyes, a look you don’t quite recognize. 

You give the men in the room a glance. Will they laugh? “I really think we’re dealing with two killers here. Working together. One poisons the victims, the other cuts out the heart. I thought it was a man and a woman, but it seems like two women. They’re obviously very close to each other, and they’ve got it down to an easy routine.” 

“Why hasn’t anyone seen two women then?” Agatha asks, but you feel like she’s just guiding you to a realization, rather than criticizing your theory. 

You hum, tossing the question around in your head. “Maybe…maybe because they want us to think there’s only one killer? They’ve fooled everyone, even the FBI. Easy to chalk it up to faulty witness statements.” 

“Why wouldn’t they try to look alike then?” Agatha presses, and your brow furrows. It’s a good point. 

The pictures of the mutilated victims on the board stare back at you while you look for anything you could’ve missed. “Are they toying with us? Do they want us confused? The poison, the cut-out heart, the flower left behind, the different descriptions, it’s like this is a game to them. They’re cocky, they feel confident that they can’t get caught. Maybe both of them are narcissists, but definitely are on the Antisocial Personality Disorder spectrum.” 

“Why do you think they do it?” Agatha says in a hushed voice. You can’t help but notice that she seems excited. 

Is that because she finally might be getting a break in her case? 

“I don’t know,” you admit and she looks disappointed. You spin to face the board again. “There’s no obvious connection or pattern between the victims, so it doesn’t seem like there’s a personal vendetta against them. Nothing stands out about the locations either. It seems like they’re just killing for fun, right now.” 

“That’s pretty dangerous,” she says, and you can feel the front of her body brush against your back. You’ve been so entranced that you didn’t even hear her notice her coming over. “That means anyone could be next.” 

Goosebumps spread over your body at her hot breath on your neck, but her words sober you up. She’s right. You’re not able to rule out potential victims based on how many kids they have or don’t have, like with Wanda, or what they look like or don’t look like. 

“Okay,” you say, nodding your head. “We need to send out a BOLO for two women with dark hair now. Put these descriptions out, tell them to keep an eye out for a skeleton mask? Hopefully we can get some tips and put a stop to this before anyone else gets hurt.” 

“What should we call the other woman?” One of the male officers speaks up and you’re surprised that it’s an actual question. 

Agatha watches you with interest while you think about it. “How about…Lady Death?” You offer and she gives a nod of approval. “Put a BOLO out for Lady Death and The Witch.” 

You make copies of everything that’s on the board and paper clip them together to put in your bag. As you’re packing everything up to go back and leave to the motel (Tony would be proud of you for leaving the station at an acceptable time), Agatha comes over and leans on the table. 

“What do you think their relationship is? Lady Death and The Witch,” she says, amusement lacing her tone when she says their nicknames. 

You shrug. “Sisters, friends, wives? Maybe they’re just two crazy people who met each other and want to kill people.” She chuckles and studies you curiously. 

“You know, we’ve had some other profilers come in, but none of them have been like you. You know your stuff.” 

“Female serial killers are kind of my thing,” you say. “There’s just something about untangling the mystery that’s so much sweeter. Makes me feel…alive. Which I know sounds bad, because so many people have died, and I’m sorry.” 

Agatha looks like she knows exactly what you’re talking about. “No, don’t apologize. It’s exciting, isn’t it? The exhilaration, the moment when you finally get what you want, what you’ve been working toward.” Her voice is low and you nod, leaning in before you can realize what you’re doing. Your gaze drops down to her smirk and then back to her blown-out pupils. “Do you think you’ll be able to find them?” 

“Yeah, I do,” you breathe, and she looks positively delighted. Out of nowhere, the scar on your stomach stings and you grimace. Agatha looks at you, concerned but you brush it off. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” You ask, standing up and slinging your bag onto your shoulder. 

“See you then, superstar,” she says with a grin and watches you leave. 

When you get back to the motel, you spread all the pictures and notes out, trying to connect some dots. You scribble down Friends? Sisters? Lovers? on a sticky note and press it to the wall. 

Why do you think they do it? Agatha’s question still haunts you. You don’t want to believe that it’s just for fun, there has to be some meaning, some motive for poisoning and then physically removing hearts. There has to be some significance to the flower left behind. 

But what is it? 

Your stomach grumbles so you decide to take a step back and go pick up food from a restaurant in town. As you’re pulling out of the parking lot to come back to the motel with wings and french fries, you get a call from Tony Stark. You accept it, taking a sip from your cup quickly. 

“Hey, Director,” you say. 

“There she is! How’s it going?” 

You shrug even though he can’t see you. “Not too bad. Just went and got dinner. See, I’m taking care of myself.” 

He laughs like it’s the funniest joke he’s heard. “Glad to hear it. Any new leads in the case?” 

“There’s two women, not one. They’re working together.” There’s silence on his end of the line for a second and you wonder if he heard you. “Did you–?

“Yeah, I got that. Shit, so you think you’re looking for partners? I don’t like this,” he says. 

“I’m okay, I promise. What happened with Wanda won’t happen this time,” you reassure him as you turn back into the motel lot. “I’ll check in with you whenever you want. I’ll go see that shrink. I’ll be careful.” You’re worried that he’ll pull you off the case if he thinks you’re too obsessed. Your hyperfixation tendencies almost cost you your life, and you know Tony doesn’t want that to happen to you again. He’s become somewhat of a father figure to you since you started working there, and it’s touching how much he cares.

He hums in satisfaction. “I expect you to eat three meals a day and get at least five hours of sleep.” Before you can protest, he continues. “And I want you to make an appointment with that therapist. Just get ahead of your spiral, maybe talking about the case with someone removed will help you be more level-headed.” 

“I will,” you vow. “Okay, just got back to the motel, I’ll talk to you later.” He says goodbye and hangs up. When you get out of the car with your food, the hair on the back of your neck stands up and your scar tingles. 

Something feels off. 

You get to your door to find it slightly ajar and you frown. You remember locking it. Maybe room service cleans at night? 

“Hello?” You call, pushing it open. Taking a few cautious steps into the room, you scan from wall to wall looking for anything or anyone.

There’s no one there, nothing seems out of place except for your suitcase that is now on your bed. You tentatively walk over to it and unzip it, jumping back like you’re expecting something to pop out. Inside, you find all the clothes you packed gone, and entirely replaced by a new wardrobe. Pulling them out, you gasp when you find cashmere sweaters and silky blouses and comfortable but professional looking pants. There’s a bottle of perfume with the word “Thanatos” printed in perfect calligraphy and you take a whiff. It smells like flowers and wood at the same time and it makes you think of a forest. 

So someone broke into your motel room just to give you some new clothes and perfume? You rustle through the rest of the suitcase and a piece of paper flutters to the floor. 

Heart pounding, you lean down to pick it up. It’s the same sticky note that you put on your wall before you left to get food. 

Friends? Sisters? Lovers? 

Only now, the word ‘lovers’ is circled, with a small heart drawn. You drop the paper like you’ve been burned and run over to where all your case information is and you feel nauseous. 

Nothing has been touched. Nothing is out of place. 

Except for the single purple azalea resting on the middle of the table. 

They were here. 

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Collars of Duty 1

Hybrid!Simon x reader - Chapter 2 -

When a new problem hybrid is brought to the rehab center, you're called in from medical leave. Having been through hell he's classed as dangerous but you believe he deserves a chance. Hopefully you both can heal each other without adding to old wounds.

I dedicate this story to @kiwiimochi because they said they'd be interested in a story like this. I hope you enjoy and you're welcome to tell me what you think.

Content: hybrid AU, brief description of wounds, allusions to torture

The call comes through in the middle of the night, ripping you from deep slumber that for once was peaceful.

You wake with a gasp, heart immediately racing to outrun the invisible danger. It takes you a few seconds to blink the last remnants of sleep from your eyes. You’re at home, in your bed. There is no danger around, except the phone that rings impatiently in your bedside drawer.

You recognize the ringtone. It’s your work phone, which hasn’t rung in weeks even though you always keep it on and charged. It’s slightly unsettling to hear it ring at such an ungodly hour. It’s freeing too, to realize that your heart slowly calms down and you do not spiral into a panic attack.

Yawning your reach into the drawer and open it, getting the angrily vibrating phone and hold it up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“We need you here.”

You’re stunned into silence. Everyone knows you’re on medical leave. They should know better than to call you in randomly during the night. They -

“Like right now.” You recognize Elizabeth’s voice and your heartrate skyrockets again.

“Liz, you know that I’m on leave. You know wh-“

“They want to put him down.” Her voice interrupts you, full of urgency.

That has you sitting bolt upright. Putting down hybrids has been illegal for years now and the center mostly adheres to those laws. Mostly, not always and when they don’t they usually have a damn good reason not to.

Working at a government managed rehabilitation center for hybrids meant that sometimes they put their decisions above the law.

You’re already out the bed and stumbling around the room while trying to get dressed one handed.

“I’m coming. Anything I should know?”

You tuck the phone between your shoulder and your ear so you can use both hands to pull on your pants. The short pause strains your nerves. She wouldn’t have called you if the others could handle whatever was happening.

“Liz?” You prompt her.

“Belgian Malinois hybrid. Military. They found him after he was MIA for moths. Severely malnourished, signs of torture all over him. No idea how they managed to get him into a chopper and bring him here, but he is here.” She rattles down and if you didn’t know her better you’d think that she doesn’t care. But you do know her better. Staying professional helps her not to break down with cases like this.

Hectically you tuck a shirt over your head, gather your things and basically run out the door. When you started working at the center you moved as close as possible to your new workplace and because you were lucky that meant living just down the street.

Running along the sidewalk you urge her on. “What more, Liz. I need everything you can give me.”

The silence speaks volumes. She hesitates, then goes on.

“He attacked and killed one of the soldiers that brought him here. They sedated him but said if no one wants to work with him, they have to put him down. I’ve seen hybrids go animal before but not like this.”

You grit your teeth at that. You hated the term ‘going animal’ even if it was a widely accepted term when working with hybrids. Just because they we’re genetically part animal didn’t mean, that them going berserk was less human that an ordinary person losing it.

And if what she told you was true, he had more than enough reason to lose his marbles.

Before you can ask another question you reach the fence of the rehab compound and to your surprise Liz is there, already opening the door for you so you won’t have to use your access card. You end the call and pocket your phone when you approach her.

“I want to say it’s good to have you back but the circumstances make the whole thing slightly less cheery.” She greets you and then engulfs you in a heartfelt hug.

Damn, you missed her. Liz didn’t work with the hybrids as a handler. She was part of the office team but she was one of your favorite coworkers here. Liz got shit done while taking none and still she was the nicest, sweetest person around.

You nod, returning her hug. Then you breathe deeply, preparing yourself to actually step foot into the facility again. The very reason why you were on medical leave in the first place. It doesn’t feel as bad as you feared but you’re not sure how you will react to the hybrid.

“Where is he? What’s his name?”

Liz sighs deeply. “He’s in the cell. The others refused to work with him when they heard the details from the soldiers. Honestly, I don’t blame them but I thought it was worth calling you.”

You nod grimly and let her lead the way. The facility worked with aggressive hybrids a lot. Problematic cases were nothing new. But one who had murdered mere hours ago was new territory. You’re not sure this is the best decision.

Was this the kind of case you were ready to come back for? After what happened? This had the potential to ruin any progress you had made during your leave.

No. You couldn’t let him be put down just because you were scared. He deserved a chance and if all the others were too worried then you’d give him the chance. Even if it might cost you the stability you’d gained back.

Liz comes to a halt before the cell and turns to you. Her hands clasp onto your shoulders, looking at you through her glasses.

“Thank you for trying.” She hesitates briefly. “Don’t destroy yourself over it though. If he’s lost, he’s lost. You can’t save everyone.”

Her words make your throat tighten and swallowing seems like an impossible feat. You nod, despite the unease bubbling up in you.

He’s a person, you remind yourself. It’s not like you’re meeting a wild animal.

Finally you turn to look through the small window into the cell. The large hybrid nearly steals your breath. He’s still unconscious, lying on the mattress at the far end of the otherwise unfurnished cold cell. The dark pointed ears that peek out of his shaggy hair twitch every now and then.

“His name?” You ask again, your voice a whisper, even though you’re not entirely sure why you feel the need to quiet down.

He is dirty beyond belief; his hair unkempt and you can make out a slight beard on his strong jaw through the bars of his muzzle.  You grind your teeth at the sight of it. Using muzzles of that type on hybrids has also been forbidden and you wonder if they found him like this or put it on him.

The fact that he doesn’t wear a shirt, only ripped and sullied pants, grants you an unobstructed view of his torso. There are various wounds in different phases of healing and his ribs are overly visible beneath his skin.

The twin wounds on his left draw your eyes. They seem almost circular and are located between his ribs. Already crusted over messily they seem to not be the newest ones; still you shudder with how painful they look. Over the ribs that lay between those wounds the skin is blackish blue and bruised.

You decide to not look closely at his other wounds as to not make you feel shakier than you already do. Instead you look at his face again. That too is covered in shallow cuts but those do not make your insides want to turn over.

His hair seems to be a deep, dark brown, matching the ears and you wonder how he’ll look, once he’s clean and not on the brink of starvation. Liz’ voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Simon Riley. Lieutenant.”

You both know rank means almost nothing when it comes to hybrids but you don’t comment on the information. You’re about to ask something else when he starts stirring and you hold your breath. Even though you’re outside you feel the tension rise along with his consciousness from the artificial sleep.

Two figures, that were obstructed from view before because they stood so close to the wall, step forward. Soldiers, you realize and they have their weapons trained on the slowly waking hybrid. On Simon.

As soon as he’s halfway conscious he scrambles to his feet, slightly swaying in his spot. He tries to bring his arms to the front but they seem to be tied behind his back. His tail grows stiff behind him, the ears tilt back and his upper lip curls into a snarl revealing his canines while his eyes fixate on the soldiers.

You can hear his deep resounding growl through the door and everything in you wants to run. This is a military hybrid, all right. Everything about him is big and intimidating, the aggression rolling off of him in waves along with the resounding growl.

Instead of running you set your shoulders and breathe deeply. “Let me inside and get the soldiers out.” You say a lot more confidently than you feel. Evidently their way of handling him is not working.

Liz raises her eyebrows but communicates with the guards inside. Slowly they back towards the door, keeping their guns pointed at the hybrid while Liz unlocks the door. Quicker than you can comprehend you changed positions with one of the guards, the other staying with his gun still pointing at Simon.

“”Out.” You command. You wish your body was as unwavering as your voice but you can feel a subtle shaking start in your legs.

The soldier seems conflicted but Elizabeth keeps the door open and he backs out too. Everyone at the center knows that working with hybrids comes with a lot of risks. If this goes south all you’ll be is a small stack of papers on Liz’ desk, waiting to be signed. And maybe a body to be buried.

You’re alone with him now, the heavy door closing behind you and the hostility rolling off Simon nearly suffocates you. His eyes are now fixed solely on you and he seems to be weighing his options, every muscle in his body coiled tight, ready to attack you.

You pray that he doesn’t.

You study him for a moment longer and you see the sheen on sweat that appears on his skin. This is not only aggression. He’s scared. Scared of you and somehow the fear being mutual calms you down. This hybrid must have been through hell and now he woke in a strange room after forcefully being sedated. You’d be scared shitless too and growl at people.

“Hello.”

You hold the eye contact and the way his ears perk forward for a second before going back again would be adorable in any other situation. The growl stutters before returning stronger than before. He reacted to being spoken to. Liz’ had exaggerated, maybe they’d misinterpreted him, because this hybrid was not on a murder spree.

Yet he’d killed earlier, you have to remind yourself. Just because you were a softie didn’t mean he’d spare you.

Slowly you raise your hands. “I’m just going to sit down, here. Do you know where you are?”

You can see the confusion on his face at the fact you talk to him and you mentally curse the soldiers that brought him in. Despite his display being more animalistic than human he is still a person before all else. How come they hadn't had the common sense to talk to him?

His keen eyes don’t miss even one of your movements as you settle down and cross your legs.

“You were found just north of the border in Texas.” It’s difficult to keep your voice as soft as possible with the way your throat is so tight. For a second you hate yourself because you’re thankful that he is muzzled and his arms are restrained.

Then you remind yourself that he is not Phillip and despite what Liz told you, you will judge him based on his behavior not on the stories. Like you should have with Phillip.

Something about what you said makes his ears perk up. He’s still careful but the previous stifling aggression is gone. Once again you try to suppress your anger at the soldiers not talking to him. This isn’t nearly as bad as they made it out to be.

“They brought you to a rehabilitation facility for hybrids that work with the authorities or the military. You might have heard of it before. It’s called “Rehybrid” which is a stupid name if you ask me but I wasn’t born when they decided on that so…”

Now he cocks his head at you and you try to keep from smiling. You know you’re rambling but it seems to help so you keep going.

“Not everyone is gifted in name giving.” Without much of a pause and consciously casually you continue on. “Mind if I take the handcuffs off of you?”

That makes him stiffen, reflexively his lip curls up again a small growl starting up. Of course he doesn’t trust you. But you’re also very aware of how unfair it is to have him shackled and muzzled when he feels threatened already.

“I know. I wouldn’t want anyone near me too if I were in your position but I think it would only be fair.” You’re very aware of the fact, that Liz, and the soldiers probably too, are watching through the window, most definitely thinking you’ve lost your mind.

Simon shakes his head and even if it is disappointing it makes you feel incredible that he interacted with what you said. Your chest expands and you suddenly feel like a big boulder lifted off your shoulders. That’s a good start.

“It’s okay, I won’t do it then. Just give me a sign when you’re ready.”

Once again you briefly glance at the state his body is in and you slightly wince. Yeah, maybe you would have to press a little harder.

“Listen. I really want to give you the time and space but I think your wounds and your body are on slightly tighter schedule than I am. I won’t force you but I don’t want you dying on me.”

His eyes widen at that and in that moment you’d pay to know what he’s thinking. It’s interesting to watch him as he seems to mentally take note of his body. He nods at you and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Take the cuffs off?”, you ask again just to be sure. Simon nods again.

Keeping it slow and easily predictable you stand up again and raise your hand to the latch in the door, opening it and sticking your hand through it. If Liz and the soldiers listened, they’ll give you the key, hopefully.

For a few agonizingly long heartbeats nothing happens, then a key is dropped into the palm of your hand and you close the latch again.

“I’m going to take a step towards you and then you can come to me. Sound good?”

Simon nods again and you take the step. His body tenses but then he crosses the small space and turns his back to you. His chest is heaving and his back is damp with cold sweat. It’s almost unnerving the way he has his head tilted as far to the side as possible, watching you out of the corner of his wide eye. If you make one wrong move he could still easily put you on the ground.

This close you can smell him and the stench coming off of him almost makes you gag. You try to breathe through your mouth at the smell of something rotten assaulting your nose. There's also the underlying smell of piss and filth along with other scents you can't identify. You concentrate on the task at hand in order not to imagine what might have happened to him.

Trying not to stress him out more, you talk him through the short process of taking off the handcuffs. His fast breathing makes you slightly worried that he’ll hyperventilate.

The moments the cuffs are on the floor he’s on the other side of the room again and his hands are tearing at the muzzle on his head. His fingers are frantic and a nail on his already damaged hands breaks, a little bit of blood welling up.

“Wait, please!” You call out desperately but his movements only grow more hectic. The muzzle he has on is designed so the hybrid is unable to take it off without seriously injuring themselves. His nimble fingers flit all over the piece, grabbing and tugging until he decides to just start pushing it upwards off his face.

Immediately the metal cuts into his cheeks and you know he’ll do it anyway. He doesn’t care about cutting his skin in the process. Panic swells in your chest at the thought of him shredding his face just to be muzzle free.

“Please, Simon, Stop!” You say desperately in a last attempt before he pulls it off his face. Against everything you expected he freezes, eyes going wide.

“Simon, that’s your name, right?”, you question your hands outstretched as if you could keep him from hurting himself further by sheer force of will.

You’re shaking and you know he can see it. Swallowing is almost painful. “Please don’t hurt yourself, I’ll take it off of you but please stop hurting yourself.”

His eyes narrow but this time he hesitates less before nodding and stepping towards you. God he is big. You’re all too aware of how incredibly vulnerable you are right now. He could probably rip you apart with his bare hands if he wanted to.

He’s a fully trained soldier and you… you’re just an ordinary person who helps hybrids to get back on their feet. You specifically chose this line of work because you’re soft and stupidly selfless. Using those traits for work seemed like a good option to turn them into strengths.

Now you’re all too aware of how little your softness would guard you against Simon’s brute strength. Even on the brink of starvation the fact that he’s a weapon remains.

Achingly slow your hands reach up to the muzzle, feeling along it for the mechanism to unlock. His eyes stare into yours and this close you can see that they’re the color of dark honey. Nothing about the expression in them is sweet though and you have to consciously swallow against the lump forming in your throat.

You unlock the mechanism and Simon stays in your personal space for a second longer. You don’t break the eye contact and slowly he moves backwards until there is enough room to breathe between you two again.

He flexes his jaw for a moment to test it and this time you smile. His eyes narrow at that but you don’t let it deter you.

Until now he hasn’t made a move to hurt you and you decide to introduce yourself. When you tell him your name he still doesn’t answer but he’s attentive and you think that maybe it will be fine after all.

[saladoffruitcolored]

Yandere platonic omega father x neglected child reader PT 5

Wedding. Wedding. Marriage

Honestly, Rowan doesn't know when he started to despise the word and everything it means

There was a time, many years ago, when that word brought butterflies to his stomach. At that time, he and that man were deeply in love (or at least that's what he thinks). He still remembers the bells ringing in the background as he gently held his beloved.

If someone had said at that time that he would come to deeply hate the man who was kissing him so softly in front of the church altar, he wouldn't have believed it. He would have laughed, laughed out loud even thinking about this impossible possibility.

But well, life was unpredictable and the impossible becomes possible every day, every moment, for anyone.

He didn't notice the first signs, or rather, he didn't want to notice them. The way Hector wrinkled his nose in disgust around you, the way he seemed indifferent to you, how your crying always seemed to arouse annoyance and never concern.

It was ironic how Hector could be so loving and maternal with the neighbors' babies but was so cold to you at home, he almost never held you and seemed ashamed to say you were a beta

Rowan remembers the first sign that something was wrong, the day of your birth, for months the two of you created expectations and dreams about you, anxiously waiting for the day you would say hello to the world, Rowan remembers that day well, the wonderful where everything started to go wrong day of your birth

Rowan was holding you so tenderly in his arms, he remembers well the look of love in Hector's eyes when he asked to hold you, as soon as he held you it seemed like all the love just disappeared

Hector panicked, started screaming about you not being his baby, he screamed about you being defective and he flailed in panic so suddenly that I almost broke your fragile neck

It was necessary for Hector to be sedated, the nurses said that it is a very normal reaction, the omega instincts are not initially capable of picking up beta pups, initially accepting only omega and alpha pups

The lack of an omega pup's scent makes them anxious

hearing this did not reassure Rowan, in fact it made him more worried, this was his pup, they loved this pup for months and now his mate almost killed him, his mate was not trustworthy with the pup

The only thing superior to the bond of an alpha with his mate was the bond of an alpha with his pup, without him knowing or realizing that day the first seeds of doubt and hatred were born in his heart

Since that day Hector was no longer trustworthy with you, every time the two of you interacted Rowan was just one step behind

afraid that you would be released from your omega father's arms and fall to the ground

He tried his best to ease motherhood, he paid a nanny to take care of you, all Hector had to do was breastfeed you and give you some love in the morning and afternoon that good-for-nothing wasn't even capable of that, at night your care was exclusively his

He doesn't remember when the love cooled down but he remembers exactly what was the trigger that broke the marital cord that united them and killed all the butterflies in his stomach

The house, once a cozy refuge, was now often filled with tension. It seemed like every conversation ended in an argument

The house was silent, except for the screams, what started as a reprimand to your husband for having once again forgotten to pick you up from daycare, evolved into a huge scream. Hector, with teary eyes and an exalted voice, gestured frantically as he screamed

If someone from the outside looked at him, they might even think Hector was the victim

“You don’t understand!!! I need to live my life! You can’t expect me to stop living for myself to stay home and take care of your child”, the volume of Hector’s voice hurt Rowan’s ears

Every day there were the same arguments for the same reasons, already tired and venomous Rowan tried to argue, although his words were always lost amid the accusations

“Mine!? My child!? The puppy is only MINE!? YOU'RE NOT THE FATHER TOO!? You seem to forget that you have a life here!!! That you have a husband and a baby waiting for you at home, you can't just go out with your friends for hours leaving your own baby alone”, at this point he himself was already upset

“You disappear for hours, spend tens and hundreds of dollars on your credit card on gifts and clothes and trips with your friends and you don't have the money to buy a new coat for your baby!!”

Rowan always thought that the two had a good relationship, a solid marriage but apparently he was wrong, the relationship that was once limited to love and trust was now marked by fights and mutual accusations. The influence of Hector's new group of “friends” was quite apparent

A bunch of failed omegas who preached about being free and independent but were still supported by their parents' or ex-husbands' money, whispering sweet nothings in Hector's ears during the day and trying to get into Rowan's pants at every possible opportunity. He tried to tell Hector but his husband didn't believe him and just accused him of being abusive and controlling.

The nights at home that were reserved for spending time with the family were replaced by parties that lasted until dawn. Having to go pick up his husband from parties and see him acting totally drunk and flirting with everyone around was humiliating. It was only worse than having to make up a lie for you about why the omega father was smelling funny and vomiting all over the carpet.

Rowan was feeling increasingly alone and helpless. The loving husband he knew seemed to have been replaced by someone more self-centered and distant. And you, their beloved baby his baby seemed to have been relegated to a secondary position, being neglected while Hector dedicated himself exclusively to his pleasures and addiction

Rowan tried his best to give you all the love you needed but it was difficult to reconcile work, which was the only income in the house, with the almost exclusive squares of a child

“You are being selfish!!! Think of me!! Think of your child!!!”, his voice was increasingly emotional

“Don't you dare talk about selfishness, I sacrificed my youth to give birth to that thing!!!”, Hector retorted with a venom that Rowan had never heard before. “I lost my identity because of that kid!!!”

He doesn’t remember what insults were said next, all he remembers is your scared eyes peering at the two of them through the crack in the door watching your omega father packing his bags

Rowan, at the very least, expected him to look back at you but no, Hector walked forward taking heavy steps towards the exit without even saying goodbye to you

He walked out the door and never came back, the divorce papers arrived a few weeks later, ironically not even a day after the fight one of Hector’s “friends” was knocking on the door offering a “shoulder to cry on”

her cleavage was so big that he was genuinely curious about how her breasts didn’t pop out of her blouse

“Rowan! Rowan!! ROWAN!!!” His best man’s shout snapped him out of his nostalgic, melancholic thoughts. “Your tie is already perfect, man, you’ve been looking at yourself in the mirror for almost 40 minutes, don’t tell me you’re nervous” in the final words there was a tone of amused mockery

“No, I’m not anxious, I was just remembering some things”, the way his life had changed so suddenly once again was disturbing

Three years, it’s been three years since your breakdown, since he put you in therapy and since he met Sarah, his future wife

A little less than a year after starting therapy with you, Doctor Sarah resigned, her older brother who owned a series of hospitals, apparently he died of an allergic reaction after eating shrimp (in a vegan restaurant?), his wife and son also died in a traffic accident on the way to the hospital when they found out about his hospitalization

Apparently there was a problem with the brakes and the car lost control on a hill, Sarah didn’t want to give many details but he saw the news in the tabloids and on TV shows, EVERYONE was talking about it, for months it was the most popular topic in the media

Mainly because it started a fight for the succession of the business, Sarah won because she was the closest blood relative of the couple, much to the anger of the other relatives, there was even an assassination attempt against her that resulted in the entire family of her ex-sister-in-law being imprisoned for life

It was a real scandal, a year later Rowan met Sarah in a market, she recognized him and started talking to him

This event repeated itself daily, it seemed that wherever he was Sarah was coincidentally nearby

He was no idiot, he realized very quickly that she was stalking him, the question was why was she doing it?

Wearing summer dresses and carefully styling her hair to make it look like she hadn't spent hours styling it, just enough makeup to highlight her casual beauty done so subtly that if someone didn't look closely they wouldn't even notice she was wearing it, and her sweet personality totally different from the way she treated him in the office before

Others had tried to seduce him before, he knew very well how this game works

She seemed like the idealization of a divorced man's fantasy: young, beautiful, kind and totally interested in raising taking full responsibility for puppies that weren't hers

The reason became clear not long after when he saw her interacting with you, the way she hung on your every word was very obvious to him, the way she seemed to have to restrain her own hands from tucking your rebellious lock of hair behind your ear

Whenever you were mentioned her eyes would shine in a maternal way, It wasn't hard to see what her ultimate goal was in getting close to him

When he realized this, he wanted to back off, he wanted to put an end to all that force and make it very clear that if she got close to you again he would call the police, but then he realized something

Having only one father was dangerous, if something happened to him, what would happen to you? Your omega father was clearly not interested in you, he would probably take the life insurance money and spend it on his daughters, leaving you in misery

Rowan didn't have any close relatives, you would be alone in the world, but with Sarah the scenario would be different, you would have someone to turn to, someone to take care of you

Sarah made it quite clear that she fully intended to trade you for her heiress, if that happened your life would be set, you would never have a hard time in life. Isn't that what a father hopes to provide for his puppy?A life of happiness without financial hardship.

Money was getting tight, his ex-husband was asking for a raise in his alimony, Hector was claiming that he needed more money to support his daughters he's not their father so why is he the one who has to support those cuckoo chicks!?

Paying for all the courses and clubs you take at school is expensive, private school itself is expensive.

Recently, the Harmonia Beta movement has become stronger than ever. It was only a matter of time before mass layoffs and marginalization against alphas and omegas starts. He noticed his boss making rounds of the offices it's only a matter of time before he gets fired, without his job, how would he support the household? How would he support you?

Sarah came along like a miracle solution, marrying her would mean securing your financial stability, it would mean you could choose any college you wanted he tried his best to save for your university but it's hard being the only one working in the house having to maintain your lifestyle while supporting your leech ex-husband and his parasitic daughters, he tried so hard to save for you that he didn't even try to save for his own retirement

When Sarah indirectly explicitly said she would love to get married in the spring he knew what the right answer was, he took a large amount of money from his university fund taking the money out of there hurt his soul but he knew it was for the best, a small sacrifice, soon you would be an heiress who wouldn't have to worry about saving for university and bought the most beautiful and expensive ring he saw at the most popular diamond store in town

Every decision in his life has led him here, to this moment and he can only hope that be the right decision

Looking in the mirror again, Rowan adjusted his tie for the last time. The perfect knot of the tie seemed like a symbol of the beginning of his new life

Rowan heard his friend babbling again, during this whole time the best man talked nonstop about the breasts of the bride's bridesmaids without even realizing that Rowan was not paying attention

Reading the wedding vows one last time, Rowan mentally prepared himself for the ceremony

I'm doing this for my baby, for my baby, always for my baby. We'll both be okay, everything will be okay

TOC. TOC. TOC

“Mr. Rowan, the first ceremony will begin in 30 minutes. You better start heading towards the cathedral. Everything is perfect. You and your bride will love it...” While the wedding planner escorted the two out of the room and towards the church, Rowan made sure to keep his most pleasant smile on his face. Everyone should think he is a loving groom.

Being the center of attention is tiring, yhe religious ceremony has barely started, but he is already tired of being stared at. He really doesn’t know how he will keep a smile on his face for the next three days of celebration, plus two weeks of honeymoon on a family trip to Brazil.

Arriving at the church, he sees the guests already sitting down. He takes his place at the altar below the priest, a few minutes later, the music starts playing, little children enter throwing flower petals.

Then the bride enters.

Drawing everyone’s attention to her, she slowly walks down the aisle church, her eyes exude satisfaction and happiness, the guests think it's the happiness of marrying the man she loves but he knows very well that the reason for her joy is something else, it's you

After the bride's spectacular entrance that drew sighs of admiration and envy from those present, you enter the cathedral, walking down the aisle holding the rings

The symbolism did not go unnoticed by him

The eyes of the two future married couple shined when they saw you, the reason for everything, you were so beautiful

Handing over the rings and exchanging vows the priest officiates the ceremony

Rowan is no longer divorced, now he is remarried and he doesn't know exactly how to feel about it

[saddleups]

hi it’s me again who requested the video tape!! thank you for that and i loved it 🫦

it’s so hot to imagine james being a single father… he adopts laura after the leave ending, idk it makes me so 🤸‍♀️ imagining james as a single father. and gentle morning sex. that’s also cute!

-🧚‍♀️

★ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 . . . 1.7k

★ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 . . . request , complete. JAMES SUNDERLAND X F!READER !! 18+ SMUT MDNI !!

★ 𝐂𝐖 . . . just sweet vanilla sex <3 p_rn w/o a plot !

★ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . . omg hello !! i'm glad you liked it , i had a lot of fun with it and i kinda , sorta wanna do a second part lol. your mind for the gentle morning sex ?? gentle and intimate with heavy eye contact ... sedate me

The first light of dawn spills softly through the curtains of your shared bedroom, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. As the first light dances over your face, your lashes flutter, and a quiet groan slips from your lips. You stir, feeling the familiar warmth of James pressed behind you, his arm draped over your waist in a protective hold.

Reluctantly, you crane your neck to check the time, only to realize it’s early. Much too early. The small shift of your body stirs him, and you feel his hand flex around you as he starts to wake.

“Sorry, hun,” you murmur, voice still thick with sleep.

“’S’fine,” James responds, his voice a low, drowsy rumble. “I needed to get up early anyway to drop Laura off at school.”

You let out a soft laugh, barely more than a whisper, “Like, six a.m. early?”

A quiet groan rumbles from his chest as he pulls you just a little closer, his fingers tracing gentle circles along your side. “Maybe not,” he admits, voice softened by sleep, as if savoring this rare moment.

James nestled his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. These moments, so rare and precious, were hard to come by with a child running through the house, always lurking around, popping up at the most inconvenient times.

A little nuisance, sure—but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. In this quiet sliver of dawn, with only the sound of his breathing and the faint hum of morning outside, you tasted a fleeting slice of domesticity.

His lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck. You tilt your hed to the side, giving him better access, James takes full advantage. He peppers your skin with soft kisses, leaving you breathless. The friction of his stubble against your skin is a delicious mix of roughness and tenderness, making you arch into him.

"James," you breathe, your hands instinctively reaching back to grip his forearm. The heat between you is palpable, a silent promise of the passion that always seems to simmer just beneath the surface.

He nuzzles deeper into the crook of your neck, his breath warm and steady. "Do you have to get up?" he asks, his voice husky with desire.

You shake your head, even though he can't see it, lost in the sensation of his lips moving lower, tracing a path down your shoulder.

"No," you reply, your own voice catching in your throat. "Not yet."

His hand moves higher, cupping your breast through the thin fabric of your nightgown. The simple touch sends a wave of pleasure through you, making your nipples pebble instantly. He teases one with his thumb, the friction electric against your sensitized flesh.

"Mmm," you moan softly, turning your head to capture his gaze. The intensity in his eyes is overwhelming, a green blaze that promises so much more than this fleeting moment. It's a look that speaks volumes, one that says he wants you as desperately as you want him.

James leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. The connection is immediate and powerful, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to tangle with yours in a dance as old as time. Your bodies mold together, fitting perfectly as if made for each other. His free hand slides down to cup your ass, pulling you even closer, the evidence of his desire pressing insistently against your thigh.

You break the kiss, gasping for breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "James," you whisper again, this time with a hint of urgency. "We shouldn't..."

He silences you with another kiss, this one softer, almost reverent. "Shh," he murmurs against your lips. "We just have to be quiet," he says with a hint of playfulness.

Encouraged, you scoot closer, your body pressing against him. Your breath hitches as your thigh brushes against his hardening length.

"James," you whisper, voice barely audible.

He just looks at you, his lips parted as if he’s about to say something. But then his gaze drops to your lips, and the intensity in his eyes makes your heart race.

"Please," you whisper, almost begging now. "Take me."

His breath catches, and you feel his entire body tense up for a moment before he exhales slowly. His hand moves from your cheek to your hair, tangling in the strands as he pulls you closer. He kisses you then, a soft, lingering kiss that speaks volumes without words.

When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with need. "Are you sure?" he asks, voice low and rough.

You nod again, your fingers gripping his arm tightly. He shifts slightly, turning so that he’s half on his side, facing you. The straps of your nightgown have come undone. James' slips his hand down to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your already hard nipple. The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, and you let out a small gasp.

"Quiet," he reminds you, but there’s no reprimand in his tone. Only concern and affection.

You bite your lip, nodding once more. He leans in, capturing your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it gently. The pressure builds, and you feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

Your hand travels down to his erection, wrapping your fingers around him. He’s hot and hard in your hand, and you squeeze gently, eliciting a low groan from him.

"God, you’re so beautiful," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "So perfect."

Your heart swells at his praise, and you move your hand, stroking him with slow, deliberate movements. He closes his eyes, his head falling back as he revels in the sensation. But you want more, need more. You guide his hand down to your entrance, where your arousal is already slick and ready.

He hesitates for a moment, looking into your eyes as if seeking reassurance. You give him a small, encouraging smile, and he dips one finger inside you. The sensation is intense, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan. He curves his finger, finding that sweet spot inside you, and you feel your body clenching around him.

"Fuck, you’re so wet," he mutters, his voice strained. "So wet for me."

You nod, unable to form words, your focus entirely on the way his finger feels moving inside you. He adds a second finger, spreading you open, stretching you. The pressure builds, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge of release.

"James," you gasp, your hips bucking against his fingers. "I want more."

He removes his fingers, only to replace them with his cock. He pushes inside you slowly, inch by agonizing inch. The stretch is delicious, overwhelming, and you grip the sheets beneath you, trying to stay quiet. He pauses when he’s fully sheathed inside you, his eyes locked on yours.

"Look at me," he commands, his voice firm but gentle. "Don’t look away."

You obey, your eyes locked onto his as he positions himself above you. The thin veil of sheets that once shielded you both falls away, exposing your bodies to the powerful heat emanating from James.

As he traps you between his arms, your legs instinctively part wider for him, begging for more. With a smirk, James teases your slick entrance with the head of his throbbing cock, relishing in the sight of your wetness mingling with his own precum. "Beautiful," he whispers lowly before plunging into you once again, claiming you entirely.

James starts to move, thrusting slowly and deliberately. Each stroke of his cock fills you completely, the sensation building and building until it’s almost too much to bear. He watches you intently, his expression a mix of love and raw desire.

"That’s it," he murmurs. "Feel it, baby. Feel how good this is. How good we are together."

His words push you closer to the edge, and you feel the orgasm coiling deep inside you. Your breath comes in short, shallow gasps, and you’re trembling all over. He speeds up, his thrusts becoming more urgent, deeper. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing in tight circles as he fucks you.

"Yes, yes," you whisper, your voice breaking. "Oh God, James, I’m going to come."

"Let go," he urges. "Come for me. Let me see you fall apart."

The command pushes you over the edge, and you cry out softly as the orgasm rips through you. Your body spasms, squeezing him tightly as you ride out the wave of pleasure. He continues to thrust into you, chasing his own release, his breathing ragged.

"I’m close," he grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic. "So close."

You reach between you, wrapping your hand around his cock where it meets your entrance, pumping him in time with his thrusts. The added friction sends him spiraling over the edge, and he groans your name as he comes, his seed filling you.

He collapses onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. For a moment, neither of you moves, lost in the afterglow of your combined climaxes. Finally, he lifts himself off you slightly, his eyes still locked on yours.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice hoarse.

You nod, smiling up at him. "Mhmn, thank you baby."

He leans down, kissing you softly, his tongue flicking against yours. The kiss is tender, almost reverent, and it leaves you breathless. As he pulls back, he gives you one last, lingering look before rolling off you and pulling you into his arms.

"Sleep now," he whispers, planting a kiss on your forehead. "We’ll talk later."

You snuggle into his embrace, feeling safe and cherished. The dawn light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room.

Then you hear it, right outside the hall. "Hey! Where's breakfast?"

It's Laura, you turn to him and chuckle. James sighs, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he mutters, “Guess our peace and quiet's up.”

You chuckle, whispering back, “Think we can get away with pretending we’re still asleep?”

He gives a low, tired laugh, “Tempting. But knowing her, she’ll barge right in.”

Right on cue, Laura’s voice rings louder, impatience growing. “Hellooo? I’m starving in here!”

James groans playfully, rolling his eyes. “Alright, alright! We’re coming!”

You share a small, conspiratorial smile before he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, muttering, “Let’s face the little monster.”

[nyxiswrites1200]

Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFT, MDNI, Oral sex

An: Hello loves! This is just a small self indulging thought bc I am sick :( I'm still working on requests, I promise 😭

----

"Sammy-" you moan softly as you tug on his hair. Sam grunts in response as he continues lapping at your cunt.

You've been sick for the past two days, all sniffly and tired. Yet, that somehow didn't sedate the arousal you felt for your boyfriend. You were too lazy to indulge in anything though! Sam has been so sweet in bringing you food, your medicine, and cuddling you. How could you ask more of him?

So when Sam noticed the pre-cum in your panties just as he was undressing you for a bath...he came up with an idea.

At first you were reluctant. "Sammyyy you don't have to...I don't wanna gross you out-" you whine as you try to push away his kisses.

Sam couldn't help but give you that shit eating smile. "Sweetie, you could never gross me out. Do you know the shit I've seen?" He chuckles.

You accept his next kiss as you give in to him.

"I've got you...just let me help you forget about being sick for a bit" he reassures as he rubs your sides.

That's how we ended up here.

Sam lazily eating your pussy. He held your thighs in a gentle grasp, his tongue licking at your folds. It was kind of relaxing as much as it was pleasing. He wasn't in a rush or concerned about himself at all, it was just about you. However, that didn't sedate the aching need in his cock. He could live with it as long as you were happy.

You moan out softly, an occasional whimper as well when his mouth graces your clit. His large hands rub small circles on your thighs.

Until he finally tips you over the edge, making your hips twitch up into his face. He doesn't stop you, he lets you twitch and tug at his hair, suffocating him between your thighs for a moment while you rode out your high on his tongue.

Finally, you let him go as he took a breath. He licks your slick from his lips as he kisses your inner thigh.

"Was that enough for you?" He asked softly. When he received a tired nod in response, he carefully picked you up from the bed. He carefully bathed you, making sure to use your favorite scents even if you couldn't fully smell them.

He then tucked you into bed, kissing your forehead. He did have to finish himself off in the bathroom once you were asleep though...

He'd do anything for his sweet girl.

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 4

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH.4

"If we’re going to get to the pit of this peach we gotta get some variables outta the way first. I need a scan of his brain and yours. While conscious.”

“Mine as well?”

“You said he’s your identical twin - he should be genetically the same as you. We can use a scan of your brain as a comparison to see if there’s physical damage on the organ itself, because brain damage is the most common cause of amnesia.”

“I do have the technology available for an in-depth scan, but… ”

 “But what?”

“It’s in the shape of a ray gun, but like a traditional MRI whoever is getting scanned has to stay completely still.”

“I don’t s’pose in the time it took me to go into town and get supplies, you managed to reconcile with him?”

“Reconcile? He’s still convinced I’m a mad scientist out to harvest his organs, 'or worse turn him over to the IRS'- don’t ask about that second part. If I point anything gun-shaped at him, he’ll freak out.”

“Can’t say I blame him…”

“Hush, Fiddleford. There’s an easy way we can get him to hold still.”

“Stanford- Stanford put the tranquilizing doohickey away. We both know that concoction of yours wasn’t formulated with humans in mind. Surely you have less caustic means of sedation.”

---

“Stanford, anyone can tell that bottle’s been tampered with.”

“I have a theory that this persona of his is so self-destructive he’ll still drink it.”

“Y’know, this bottled water tastes suspiciously like two crushed Ambien tablets.” 

*Stan keeps drinking it anyways*  

“I am impressed, but I also hate that your theory was correct.”

*Ford undeafens the cell*

“Stanley, if you think there’s zolpidem in that, why are you still drinking it?”

“You think two Ambien is enough to take me down? Guess again, I’ve used this stuff to cut coke. You’re gonna have to try harder than that, PhD.” 

“Hmm, so we should have used Coca-Cola instead of water…”

“That ain’t what he meant by- how did you survive by yourself out here?”

---

“Hello there …Stan?”

“Sup babe.”

“Don’t call me that. I was wondering - you’re so handsome already, but it’d surely tickle my fancy a bit more if you put on this here necktie.”

“Hell no.”

“Do you not know how to tie one? I’d be happy to-.”

“I know how to tie a tie, specs. But I’ll never wear a necktie ever again. Not after Colombia… I still can’t shave that part of my jaw without nightmares.”

“I beg your pardon?”

---

“I couldn’t convince him to put the mind control tie on.”

“Fiddleford, why are you staring a thousand yards away?”

“He was explaining to me his time in Colombian prison, then he went on a tangent about necklaces and now I don’t think I can change a tire without thinking about it ever again.”

“... Interesting. We’re not resorting to the tranq gun yet?”

“This is your own brother you’re talking about.” 

“There’s only one thing we can do. The only thing that will 99.99% work on my brother. I didn’t think it would have to come to this so soon. But it’s our only unharmful option left.”

---

“Stanley.”

“Doc.”

“I will give you twenty dollars if you stay still for thirty whole seconds.”

“On one hand this is a set up… On the other hand, I’ve done worse for twenty dollars.”

“You what ?”

“Ten bucks up front.”

To be continued...

[yuyuonabeat]

Mothers Day Puppy Love

Happy Mothers Day to the Mothers reading this!

Here to deliver a bit of what goes inside my brain on a daily basis cuz Yunho has me going feral for him. Not only that but Husband Yunho is a must.

So it’s Mother’s Day and y’all know what that means.

THOUGHTS ON YUNHO MAKING YOU A MOM😩

I have no idea why my brain functions so well when it has to do with sexy stuff.

But today I’ll keep it pg13. Or more like NOT SMUT.

Like imagine waking up on Mothers Day. You laying in your big bed that you share with your loving husband Yunho.

You wake up to the feeling of someone staring at you. You open your eyes slowly just to be greeted by a big smile and happy eyes.

Yunho sitting next to you with a tray of breakfast and it’s that Iced coffee?!? Oh he knows you so well. Nothing better than starting your morning next to a handsome man that has make you breakfast and coffee.

“Hello My Sweetheart.” He offers a smile. Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips to kiss at it.

You giggle. It’s things like these that make you fall deeper in love with him every day. How welcoming and heartwarming he is. Always caring so much for you. After all, to him you are his will to live.

His sunshine even though you’re the grumpy one in the relationship. His loving partner whom he will love for the rest of his life.

The two of you have been married for a year now. But you’ve been dating for exactly 4 years. You always wanted a family. And he always wanted a partner he could care for, love and cherish for eternity.

He loves to spoil you with gifts and dates and lots and lots of love. Stealing kisses from you and kissing your cheeks in public, leaving you looking like a red Stop sign.

Pulling you in closer by your waist. Humming and whispering the most beautiful things into your ears.

Your fan favorite is when you sometimes try to cook for him, since he’s the one that always cooks for you. You just love it when he comes behind you and back hugs you. Kisses your cheeks and neck.

He sure loves it when you cook for him. Even if it’s not the best, he’ll never fail to make you feel secure and confident. Complimenting your cooking or giving you advice on how to improve it.

You love it when he teaches you how to cook.

Another one of your fan favorite things the two of you do is when he’s gaming in his room. Either playing LOL or Fortnite with his mates.

You always stand there so shyly. He always notices you as soon as you enter the room. Muting his mic and asking “need a hug, My Sweetheart?” Oh you can never get tired of that nickname. Makes you melt right then and there.

Lets you sit on his lap with your chest facing his. You love sitting on him, resting your head on his shoulder. Sometimes drifting into slumber.

He loves the way you always seem to need his touch near you. Caressing the back of your head while you drift to sleep on his shoulder.

🥹🥹🥹someone sedate me please

Going back to the current day.

“Thank you love.” You thank him for this amazing start to your morning. Kissing his lips.

Those plush soft lips that make you wanna risk it all.

He plays with your hand and fingers. Looking down at your lap.

You start eating your breakfast but can’t help to notice his sudden change in mood.

“What’s wrong darling? Want some?”

You offer some of your breakfast in hopes that maybe he’s just hungry. After all it is still early in the morning.

He looks at you and then at your hands.

You look at him trying to examine his expressions to try and decipher what’s wrong.

“I was just thinking…we’ve been married for a year now and I’m not sure if it’s still early to ask but…” he looks away, a bit flustered.

He gets flustered very easily quite often but it’s unlike him to be this… well shy. He usually says and does things as soon as they register in his brain. He’s never afraid to say anything and never second guesses his actions.

“Yuyu, you can tell me anything love. Whats wrong? Talk to me Pretty.”

Pretty. He loves it when you call him that.

“I was wondering if, you maybe were ready to um have a baby with me? I’ve been really thinking about it a lot. What it would be like to raise a baby with you.”

You sigh in relief. Having thought something was wrong or had happened to him.

He looks at you confused.

“Sorry I just pheww, could have sworn you were giving me bad news. Baby of course I’m ready. Had actually been waiting for you to ask me about it.”

You chuckle. Eating your pancakes.

He rushes to gently grab your face and kiss you.

“I love you so much, you know that right?”

You blush. Still having half of your face stuffed with pancakes.

“With how often you say it to me, yes darling I’m aware. So you’ve been really thinking about it , huh?”

You smile at him and grab his much larger hand in your small one. Playing with his fingers.

“Yes my love. It’s been eating me away. The thought of my beautiful wife carrying my child. Us growing older with them. Buying toys and cute clothes. Makes me so happy just picturing it.”

You’d give the world to this man. And you know that just like you, he would too.

“Aw baby~ you could have said something sooner. But I’m glad we’re both on the same page here. I can’t wait to raise a baby with you. Have a happy loving family with the most handsome wonderful man in the world.”

“Oh you~” he pinches your cheek lightly.

“I love you so much My Sweetheart. Do you want to um start now or?”

You give him a shock expression. Followed by a smirk.

“Well look at you, let me finish breakfast, lover boy, and then we can get started on that family we both so dearly want.”

You chuckle and continue eating your meal. He can’t help but to smile at you.

Someone please kick me into reality 🤧. This man has me so weak.

[shepherds-of-haven]

Hi, Lena. It's currently over 90F where I live right now... so that made me curious, how would the Shepherds handle a really hot summer/how do they beat the heat?

Hello anon, I feel your pain: we have an "excessive heat warning" in our area right now too and the high of this week will be 111F! 🥲 Remember to wear sunscreen and stay hydrated!

Blade: he 'handles' heat all right, but his skin is actually quite delicate and prone to sunburning easily, so unless he sticks to the shadows assassin-style, he's going to get burnt! No more training outdoors with his shirt off for him 🥲 He's usually good enough about not getting sunburnt that no one's seen his nose or the back of his neck all pink, but one day he'll slip up...

Trouble: he's a summer boy, he's totally fine in the heat (he's less fine in the cold) and doesn't seem to be affected by it at all, he sort of likes it (so long as it's a dry heat, which it is in Haven). He doesn't like how things get a bit sluggish and sleepy in the height of summer, but he himself physically is resilient and just fine!

Tallys: she's pretty much like a cat, she soaks up heat with relish and isn't too adversely affected by it; she likes the excuses to come up with cooling tea recipes and using a lot of basil and mint, so it's not really a problem for her, except that her poor garden does tend to wilt a bit when the sun is at its worst!

Shery: she stays indoors almost exclusively, so the summer doesn't have much of an effect on her in the general course of things. When she does have to go outside, she tends to overheat/feel a bit faint/get heatstroke quite fast if she's exerting herself, but that rarely needs to happen, so moving at a sedate pace is just fine for her!

Riel: this is the time of year where he's at his crabbiest. You try wearing a three-piece or more suit in blistering weather. His hair won't sit right and he wants to crawl out of his skin if there's even a hint of mugginess, humidity, or sweat. He shuts himself away in his office and hides from the sun like a vampire. You can't even enjoy a hot cup of tea or khav! And scheduling meetings across the city is miserable. Summer is just dreadful. Give him fall--or even better yet, winter--where he can just cozily toil away in comfort anytime!

Chase: I feel like summer is one of his favorite seasons for the simple fact that the city comes especially alive at nighttime, which are his Thriving Hours. Because many stores close during the day to beat the heat, a lot more people fill the streets at night, and night markets and general night life make the city practically buzz with evening activity. He loves this! And since he can adjust his schedule so he's basically sleeping during the day and becoming a Nocturnal Creature at night, the heat doesn't really affect him too much! Plus, he comes from the Southern Crescent, which is way more humid, so the summers in Haven are very mild to him in comparison!

Red: this is not his favorite time of year. I mean, he's often locked away in his workshop anyway, so it's not like he has a huge right to complain, but he's not really a huge "summer guy" and often viewed summers as a time of forced idleness when he was sent home for the holidays at the Circle, so it's not something he has any great enthusiasm for. His admirers, though, love the summer, because this is the time of year that Red sheds his heavy Mage-style robes in favor of rolled-up shirtsleeves and slightly-unbuttoned collars... you know... like a whore

Ayla: you'd better not complain about the temperature, weather, heat, or summer anywhere in her proximity. She came from the Jalis desert, you pussies (she barks to the whining recruits), where 2 minutes in the sun can dehydrate you and people regularly die of thirst!!! This is nothing!!! This is her bragging time, because the weather has 0 effect on her and she's out in the sun basking like a cat!

Briony: she's miserable and melting and weeping and wanting to throw up and die. She does a lot of her training outdoors, so the summer heat often forces her to wake up early, before dawn (which she HATES), or it's leaving her feeling ugly and frizzy and melty and damp with sweat like

"am I still pretty?..." 🥹

She doesn't have the luxury of hiding away indoors, just don't look at her for the next month!!! *dramatically runs away crying*

Lavinet: she's pretty much in the same boat as Briony! While visually, she fares much better and always looks immaculate, internally, she's pretty miserable. She hates how much more she sweats and how miserable it is to train outside, especially her long hair! But she's too proud of how long and beautiful her hair is to wear it up in a bun or anything, so she suffers in proud silence lol. On her off-days, she always walks around under a lady's parasol like she's afraid the sun is going to vaporize her, but she makes it look natural lol

Halek: he has mixed feelings on the summer heat! On the one hand, it's a really nice change of pace from the Reach (although, famously, summers up in Uth Baryd are lovely and mild and gorgeous), so he likes the heat as a physical ambient component, but he hates having to do any work in it... there's nothing better than taking a nap in the drowsy noontime summer heat, and everyone else seems to be doing it anyway, so...! This is the time of year when he's at his laziest lol

Mimir: she doesn't seem to notice it outwardly, but I will say that she prefers summer vastly more than winter! She just hangs out in the shade of her little tent and seems quite happy!

Caine: another summer baby, this is the time of year when he really thrives!

Croelle: if he has a preference at all, he prefers summer to winter. the heat doesn't have any effect on him!

Prihine: she has Trauma around the summertime now, so she prefers winter or spring...

[sansaorgana]

hi babes!! i saw that you’re taking requests for wil ohmsford and i NEEDED to request something bc OMG THATS MY MAN!! S2 wil has a literal chokehold on me…like that scene where he’s injured and on the bed with mareth helping him GOODNIGHT!

so like imagine it’s wil and his gf and he’s just being so stubborn with her and not letting her help, but she’s so sweet and caring that he just folds for her and goes so soft :(( like he cries at her touch and she just kisses him and tells him he loves him/he’ll be okay while patching him up 😣😣 and they both just sweetly make out (or do more..)

also i know deep down that man has a praise kink so ☺️ OK I NEED TO BE SEDATED AND LOCKED OFF THIS APP

i love your work SO MUCH girl hope ur doing well <3

hello, love! 🌼 thank you for the request 😀 it was the only one with Wil that I have received LOL 😅 and it was my first time writing for him as well 😏 I made it smutty and he's a veeery soft boy 🤭

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

Wil was kind, sweet and obliging most of the time but he tended to be stubborn as well. Because of his kind nature, he was easy to take advantage of sometimes and he could be clumsy in the situations where clumsiness could cost you a life. So, obviously, you were worried about him. Especially now, when some fanatics were hunting magic users like your boyfriend.

His training to become a healer was not going as well as he had been imagining it and it was bringing him down these days. You remained by his side and waited for him to finish his course so you could go back to your village where he would help the people and heal them. But so far everything seemed to go wrong. Wil was determined to become a healer, though, even though everyone kept telling him that perhaps it was not his calling, after all. Magic was his gift. On the other hand, you didn’t want him to use it too often if there were people hunting magic users. And magic itself had its price as well…

You were sitting on the edge of the bed and worrying. Trying to read a book, but it was difficult to focus on it. It was late and dark and Wil wasn’t back yet, which was causing your thoughts to go places you would rather not go to. You put the book down and started to fidget with your fingers nervously. The sounds of laughter and screams coming from a pub nearby were the only noises you could hear on that warm night. That, and the crickets.

You stood up and began pacing around worryingly when Wil finally came back to your small house that you called home these days. But it didn’t matter because your home was where he was either way.

“Wil!” You scolded him at first but when you approached him, you noticed that his shirt was torn open and there was a huge, bleeding wound on his ribs. His face had a fresh bruise, too, and he was bleeding from his lip.

You reached your hands out to delicately touch his chest and he hissed at your touch. You raised your widened eyes to look into his baby blue ones.

“Wil! What happened?” You asked him in panic and he limped to your bed to sit on the edge of it and groaned out of pain.

“I was at the pub…” He confessed and winced.

“At the pub? What for?” You asked and sat next to him, caressing his hair gently.

“It doesn’t matter now,” he shook his head. You cupped his face to turn it around and force him to look at you.

“What happened?” You bit on your lower lip as your fingers caressed his cheeks. Your eyes filled with tears at the sight of him being in so much pain.

“It’s nothing, really. Just hand me the stones, please,” he pointed at the nightstand table.

He had them hidden in the drawer there, in a brown leather sack – three blue elfstones that he could activate with his magic. But whenever he would, you could see how much it cost him. You didn’t want Wil to use them as much as he did. After the horrors he had been through, he would often use the elfstones to simply run away from his problems and ease his mind.

You furrowed your brow and pulled up the sleeves of his jacket and shirt to reveal the burns on his hands from using the elfstones too much. You shook your head. No, you didn’t want him to use them again. At least not for this sort of thing – which you could patch up perfectly well on your own.

“Let me see…” You gently touched his fresh wound again. “It’s not infected. I can handle that.”

“No!” Wil snapped and you froze. His face softened immediately. “No, darling, I will do it, just hand me the stones.”

“I will not,” you stated with all seriousness.

“Fine then, I’ll do it myself,” he groaned and moved up to be able to reach the nightstand but the sharp pain suddenly worsened and he winced in discomfort, still stubbornly trying to reach for the drawer.

“Wil, please, stop,” you pleaded with tears in your eyes. “Stop, I can handle it. It’s gonna be fine,” you grabbed his hand that he was reaching out and you squeezed it in yours reassuringly. “My love, please, just let me take care of you,” you caressed his cheek with your free hand.

Without a word, Wil nodded and you saw a few tears escaping his pretty eyes. You wiped them with your thumb before they would stream down his face. You leaned in and placed a kiss upon his forehead.

“We have to get rid of that shirt, yes?” You talked him through it softly as you began slowly getting rid of his clothes.

Wil didn’t protest this time. Quite the opposite – he started to lean into your touch and let you take care of him. Nothing but soft whimpers of pain were leaving his pretty lips while you were shushing him lovingly.

“Shhh, pretty boy, I can handle that, it’s fine,” you kept saying.

Once he was in his underwear, you helped him to sit down on your bed and lean on the pillows. You caressed his hair one more time before placing a kiss on the top of his head. Then you got up to get your first aid kit. To be honest, you had quite a few lying around since Wil was training to become a healer.

When you sat on the edge of the bed to disinfect his wounds, he hissed out of pain and sobbed a little, instantly blushing at this display of vulnerability.

“Oh, baby, it’s okay, I love you,” you kissed his flushed cheeks. “It’s okay to cry when it hurts, my love,” you assured him and went back to gently disinfecting the wounds and dabbing the soothing ointment onto them. “So… What happened at the pub, Wil?” You raised your eyebrow at him when you spotted his muscles slowly relaxing under your touch.

“It’s… It’s nothing…” He looked away, visibly not wanting to share the details.

“My boyfriend comes back home all wounded and it’s nothing?” You couldn’t help a little snort.

Wil swallowed a lump in his throat as he hesitated. Finally, he spoke up:

“Just promise me that you won’t be worried,” he looked into your eyes. His own blue ones were giving you a look of a scared puppy and you leaned in to join your foreheads together before rubbing your nose with his.

“How can I not be, sweet darling? I always am worried about you, I love you,” you whispered softly. “But what is it? You must tell me.”

“I went there because I was in a bad mood and didn’t want to ruin your evening with my grumpiness. Some people recognised me,” Wil explained. “They were not from here and I dealt with them. They won’t spread the word about me, so don’t worry, alright?” He quickly added but you were furrowing your brows at his concerning words already.

“What do you mean that some people recognised you?” You asked. “As a magic user?”

“No,” Wil shook his head. “I mean, yes. But they weren’t after me just because of that. Apparently there’s… There’s…” He didn’t know how to finish his sentence as he looked away again. “There’s a price on my head.”

You froze at his words as your heart skipped a beat. A price on your sweet Wil’s head? For what? For saving the world? For being the most adorable man with those cute short tips that you adored? No, it made no sense. But the world was full of cruel people who would want to hurt good men like him.

“We must leave this place,” you finally said.

“No. Not before I finish my training,” Wil insisted, looking at you pleadingly.

“I don’t care if you become a healer or not. I don’t want something bad to happen to you. If we go back home and end up as simple farmers, I’ll be just as happy. I just want you to be okay…” You tried to reason with him.

“I do care. I want to become a healer!” Wil exclaimed and then he cleared his throat and looked down. “I know I’m a failure but I want to finish this training.”

“You’re not a failure, Wil,” you sighed and moved the first aid kit aside after taking the bandage out of it. You adjusted Wil softly to have a better access to the wound on his chest and you began to wrap the bandage around it. “Please, don’t call yourself that. You saved the world, remember?” You tried to cheer him up somehow. It was hard to believe sometimes that this guy was a hero and he seemed to be forgetting that as well.

“Yeah, but that was not a part of the plan. My plan was to become a healer and I’m failing at that,” he whispered shakily.

You didn’t want to argue with him more tonight so you just pursed your lips and finished to bandage him in silence. Then you kissed his forehead and leaned him back onto the pillows before standing up to put the first aid kit back to its place. You also washed your hands in a bowl of water and all this time you kept overthinking that tonight Wil could have lost his life. And instead of running away from this place, he insisted on staying.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Wil asked you and you turned around to face him.

“I’m worried,” you admitted and he cracked a smile that filled your heart with so much love that you were scared it would explode.

“You promised you wouldn’t.”

“I did not say such a thing, Wil Ohmsford!” You protested before approaching the bed to crawl up to him and join your lips together in a soft and sweet kiss.

You were careful with him because of his injuries but also because you were always gentle with him overall. How could you not be? He was the sweetest man in the world, of that you were sure. As sweet as a bag of candy and always so kind. Only Wil could see the goodness in everyone and their worth to be loved. And he was yours, all yours at the end of the day. 

Just thinking of that made you moan into his mouth as you placed your hands on his shoulders and gently moved up to sit astride him. Your lips were still connected, not leaving each other even for a moment but, eventually, you pulled away to catch a breath and he looked up with glossy eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Let me make you feel good, pretty boy,” you breathed out and he nodded softly before you leaned in to join your lips again but this time the kiss was more passionate and eager.

Wil placed his hands on your hips and softly pulled on the fabric of the nightgown you were already wearing. He exposed the soft flesh of your thighs and your ass before letting his hands wander all over. You could feel through your underwear that he was getting hard under his own. You smirked at that and started to kiss him with even more passion, assaulting his mouth with your tongue, making him whimper under you. Your hands moved to his jaw now, cupping his face to hold it in place while you were devouring his lips.

Your hips started to move, humping his erection in circles as you started to moan into his mouth. You could feel the shivers going down his body at your movements – it never took much for Wil to be like that for you. So desperate, nearly pathetically but you’d never call it this way. He was just devoted to you and he worshipped the ground you were walking on. To have you pleasuring him was always turning him into a whiny mess who would stare up at you lovingly. Meanwhile, when it was him on top of you, he would always try his hardest to make you feel good. He was a giver and a pleaser – not that you wanted to complain about that.

But now it was time for him to receive all of your sweet loving. You moved his hands up and helped him to get rid of your nightgown completely before throwing it on the floor. Then you placed his big hands on your breasts and Wil squeezed them immediately as you smiled.

You broke the kiss again because of the slight lack of oxygen and you caressed his hair while moaning softly at the friction his erection was giving to your needy pussy.

“You feel so good, my love, so good,” you assured him.

The praise was enough to feel that his cock started to leak precum. You smiled at that but didn’t want to tease him.

“Here, let me…” You took his underwear off and freed his hard, achy cock. The tip was swollen and drooling. “Let me take care of that mess, baby,” you cooed to him and adjusted yourself on his lap to grab his length and start pumping it slowly.

You watched Wil’s pretty eyes fluttering and rolling to the back of his head as he threw his head back. His hands still played with your breasts and pulled on your nipples that made you moan each time. Broken whimpers were leaving his lips whenever you would run your thumb across the wet tip of his cock and your free hand caressed the muscles of his chest.

“You’re such a pretty boy,” you praised him and felt more of his precum spurting out onto your hand. You gasped audibly at that as Wil whined. “Oh, my darling…” You leaned in to pepper his face with tiny little kisses. “My sweet, sweet boy…”

You moved up slightly and pressed your clothed hot pussy to the wet tip of his cock. Your hand, still wrapped around his length, began to rub yourself with it. Wil forced his eyes to open as he kept watching you in awe with his mouth slightly open and hazy eyes.

“You want to feel my pussy, baby?” You asked him sweetly between heavy gasps. “You have to ask for it, my love.”

You loved to tease him like that although you needed him inside of you just as much.

“P-please,” Wil whined and lowered his hands from your breasts to your hips to help your movements.

“Good boy,” you praised him.

“Please,” he whimpered and you could see how his eyes filled with tears.

At that delicious sight, you decided to stop torturing him and you moved up to remove your own underwear as fast as possible. When you were both finally naked, you grabbed his cock and guided it into your pussy. Lowering yourself slowly on his length, you were getting drunk on Wil’s whimpers. His hands kept squeezing your hips to help you and tears of pleasure escaped his eyes.

“Aw, baby, shh,” you shushed him once you were seated. You moved closer to his body, carefully, making sure you wouldn’t cause him pain by accident. 

Wil wrapped his strong arms around your body and hid his face in your chest, between your breasts. You kissed the top of his head and began to slowly bounce on his cock. He moaned and clinged to you as you started to chase your highs. Your soft moans filled the air while you rocked on his cock up and down and back and forth with your hands on Wil’s shoulders. You held onto them to keep steady and occasionally scratched his skin there gently.

“You’re such a good boy to me, baby,” you assured him when you felt his hips needily bucking up into you for more. It was making you feel dizzy since his cock was hitting your sweet spot each time. “Such a good boy,” you added.

Wil turned his head and kissed your breast while you caressed his cheek softly and picked up your pace.

“I want to protect you from everything, baby,” you whispered and held his head delicately as if he could break if you pressed too hard.

Because sometimes you were scared of that, actually – he was so sweet and so good that you were scared he was not real and if you squeezed him too tight, he would disappear.

The moves of his hips became more chaotic now and after a few rougher thrusts, he spilled himself inside of you with a loud, shaky moan, hiding his face between your tits again. The sight and the sound alongside the feeling of all the shivers going down his body was enough to make you reach your high, too. You buried your face in his hair and came hard, squeezing his spent cock with a whimper and fingernails digging into his shoulders.

You stayed like that for a while, catching your breaths. You could feel him softening slowly inside of you but your skins were so sticky from sweat that you didn’t want to pull away from him at all. However, eventually, you had to.

Wil leaned back onto the pillows again and his eyes rolled back with a sigh. You chuckled at that and stood up to grab a cloth and wash yourselves although your legs were shaky now.

“Do you feel better now, baby?” You asked him with a sweet smile when he forced his eyes to open and focus them on you.

“You’re an angel, sweetheart,” he praised you.

You smiled at the words and dropped the cloth onto the floor before crawling up on the bed and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Always watching over you, darling,” you assured him.

MASTERLIST

[bloodyjuls-blog]

We are okay with you here

So guys this is the part 5, could consider it like an ending but maybe I'll do a sneak peak ⚠️

So here we go...

It is y/n's tenth day in the ICU and we are waiting for the results of the MRI to see if her brain injuries have a good diagnosis.

"Miss Alexia good morning" says the doctor entering the room. "I have good news y/n shows movement in her brain and we believe that in the next few hours she will be able to wake up with this we will reduce the possible injuries of being sedated" doctor says looking at his notebook.

"Thank you very much doctor, I'm super happy" she says hopefully. "Listen love, everything is going great, open your eyes soon, my life, I need you" says Alexia with a tear in her eye looking at you.

Leah and AnaMari enter the room with food for Alexia "Here Ale, you haven't had breakfast" says Leah handing her the bagel bag with the cup of tea. "Thank you so much guiri really, for everything you have been here with her and me and you too Ana" says giving them a hug Alexia. "You're welcome girl, as a family already? " Leah says to which Alexia says "Of course".

"Any news?" Ana says towards Alexia. "Yes, the doctor came in and said the results have come back good but time for everything and she will probably have the sedation removed today" Alexia says contentedly. "that sounds perfect, we hope to see y/n soon fighting like always" says Leah stroking the hair left out of y/n's bandage.

A few hours go by

"Love, these days have been hard but I ratify that I will be with you and the girls too all the way, I can't wait for you to wake up so I can give you some kisses and give you a cuddle of the kind we like" Alexia said holding her hand. Y/n moves her hand a little to which Alexia notices and sees how y/n is trying to move. "Honey what are you going to hurt yourself for baby, I'm going to hold you" alexia says as she takes both of y/n's hands between hers. She watches as y/n struggles to remove the tube that passes between her mouth. "I know it hurts but the doctor is coming and will take that off, don't cry my love" Alexia tells her as she notices the tears falling from y/n's face and goes over to give her a little kiss.

"But well what do we have here?" doctor said entering at the room and greeting cheerfully. "Our fighter eh" he says looking at y/n. "Good afternoon miss y/n, we are going to proceed to remove your endotracheal tube and put you on an oxygen mask" says the doctor looking at y/n who is a little agitated. "Baby stay still so they can remove that annoying thing" says Ale while stroking her girlfriend's head and holding her hands.

Okay Alexia, please hold y/n's hands tightly because it will probably be uncomfortable when we are removing the tube" says the doctor looking at Alexia and y/n.

Moments later you already find yourself breathing with an oxygen mask and trying to adjust around although very sleepy too. "Ready Miss Alexia and y/n, now it remains to wait for evolution, a doctor will be passing by every 4 hours to supervise that everything is going well" doctor said more relieved.

"Hello my love, you don't know how happy I am to see you awake" says Alexia looking at her girlfriend while kissing her hands and cheeks. "Hiya" says y/n wincing. "What's wrong love, are you in pain? Shall I call the doctor? "* She looks at her worriedly. "My leg hurts a little and my back" she says in tears. "Give me a moment baby I'll call the doctor, but you're going to be fine" she turns to head for the door to which his girlfriend says "don't go, please stay I'm afraid (said mumbled)" with her weak little hand she grabs Alexia's hand. "I'm not leaving my life, I'm just going to call the doctor we will be alright" she walks over and kisses her forehead and leaves to call a doctor or nurse.

After the doctor passes he prescribes her a painkiller that makes her drowsy and while that happens Alexia goes downstairs to get a snack and to let everyone knows that y/n is awake.

What Alexia didn't know was that the doctor had come back and told y/n the bad news.

Flashback

"The extent of your injuries are very serious and that generates the thought that you are not going to play again at a professional level, the blows you had and the internal injuries were very serious, and I don't have the heart to tell you lies or give you an encouraging report about your career, I may be telling you that yes and give you a time to expect and maybe in a year or two you're back on the courts but with pain in every moment of your exercise. And your well being is what you should put first. You have a good support system, your girlfriend, your sister and your guiris have come and taken care of you" says the doctor when he sees you crying.

End of flashback

Alexia goes upstairs and the doctor continues talking to y/n. "What's up doc everything ok?" says Alexia quizzically. "Here chatting with the lady and telling her not to play soccer" Alexia's shocked look leaves Ana and Leah in shock. Since they had come back to see their friend.

[polin-erospsyche]

Nope that’s it, I’m done, I can’t do it anymore, give me back my sanity and my life please before I die and the reason for my death is this shit

He’s pulling her in?? She’s running into his arms?? They’re hugging and looking so nauseatingly beautiful and in love??? And then they’re back in season 4???? We’ll get Colin “THATS MY WIFE” Bridgerton???

ALSO after getting a clearer version of this, this shit just gets more disgustingly sweet. LIKE HELLO, THEIR SMILES??? His DIMPLE? What do you mean he has DIMPLES and how did I never notice this before? Sir, mam, no, I can’t take the way you’re smiling at each other.

They’re smiling at each other adoringly and they’re thinking the exact same thing. He’s thinking “thank god she is exactly where she belongs, in my arms”, she’s thinking “I’m exactly where I belong, in his arms”.

The AMOUNT of pure bliss and adoration they have for each other is INSANE! I think I have found my limit. I can take agony, pining, heartbreak, anger and whatever else but THIS? Nope, I don’t think I can do episode 8. Like if I don’t die in between episodes 1 to 7 then I need to be sedated for episodes 8 and any future crumbs we’ll get of them, cause I’m loosing my shit.

Anyway I’ll just live in this clip now until part 1 comes out, wondering when on earth I’ll find someone who I can love and who loves me this much.