#i can never really share anything on here because its too nerve wrecking

[bimb0beee]

hi :) i had a dream abt sero & here we are !!!

MDNI ‼️‼️

2.6k !!

sero x y/n

warnings: sero hanta. come eating? very small, sero is kinda mean, one mention of sir, fucking against a window, pet names? angel, princess, sweetheart & puppy. uhhhh idk what else to put 😵‍💫

i hope you like it 😪💕

There is nothing that pisses Sero off like rude reporters. Reporters, who he knows would never be able to do what he does. Most of the time he can keep his temper in control. Not today, though. It's been a very long day. All he wanted to do was get home to you. But his agency made him go to a press conference. The nerve of these people.

There’s blinding lights, flashes, and too many fucking people. He grins and takes it. It's part of the job. It's been a long day. It was almost over with; he was almost scot free. Then, some stupid asshole reporter had to open his mouth.

“Cellophane! Cellophane! So… you’re in the top 10. We all can recognize that. Although, what’s it like knowing you’ll never be at the top?” The nameless reporter has a smug look on his face. Sero is going to fix that.

“Well, um. Sir. It’s funny you have the audacity to ask me such a moronic question; we both know you would never have what it takes to be here, in my spot. I’m not doing this to be the top hero. I'm doing this because I care about my country. Why do I need to be at the top to do that? I can obviously tell you’re just envious you’ll never be at the top. Fucking beautiful women, miles above the city. A real pity it is to be you, isn’t it?”

Sero laughs hysterically off the stage and makes his way home to you.

You were watching Sero’s press conference biting your lip anxiously. You know how rough his day was and how bad he just wanted to come home. You knew the second that idiot opened his mouth, Sero was gonna stop caring about saving face. You were so embarrassed when Sero talking about fucking women; you knew he was implying you. One of his favorite things to do in his penthouse high above the city was fuck you against the large window. It was scary. It was exhilarating. He loved knowing he could ruin you and none of the little ants below would ever realize what he was doing. He fucking loved it.

You were more bashful about it, but he knows how much you liked the adrenaline of looking down while he abuses your cunt on his cock.

Your body is tingling with anticipation. You’re getting everything all tidy for him. You want to do whatever you can to make his mood lift, even if it is a little bit. His dinner is warm for him and get him a nice, cold beer in hopes it’ll wind him down.

You hear him grumbling when he stomps through the front door and he looks so angry, so irritated. Then he sees you, standing by the table with a nervous smile on your face and all that anger melts away.

He smiles and makes his way over to you, “Hi, sweetheart. Did you miss me?”

you lean up to kiss him and whisper into the kiss, “I always do, Hanta.”

He kisses you a few more times before he tickles your neck with his mouth and you can’t really help the elated giggles you let out.

“Go shower, Hanta. You smell like you’re covered in sweat. Your dinner and I will be waiting for you to come back!”

“Of course I smell like sweat. I am covered in sweat.”

He stalks off grumbling. All he wants to do is hold you and kiss you. He supposes a quick rinse won’t hurt. After all, making you pleased is one of his favorite things to do.

You’re fussing with your phone when he comes out, a cute little furrow on your brow. He hates it. He wants to get rid of it. He wraps his big arms around you and grunts in your ear, “What are you doing that has you so worked up, princess?”

You yelped and threw your phone when you felt his arms encircle you.

“N-nothing, Hanta. It's nothing…”

He quirks a perfectly sculpted brow at you. “Yeah? Then why did you throw your phone? Are you being… naughty, puppy?

Your insides are vibrating in anticipation. “No, no. Of course not, Hanta. Someone just sent me an article about that asshole at the press conference and I didn't want you to see…”

He tchs at you. “Enough of that shit, princess. I don't want to deal with any of that bullshit for the rest of the night. Alright? I’ll deal with the consequences tomorrow, at the agency. Right now the only thing I want is…”

He's attacking your neck with such an intense vigor you can’t help but moan out.

“B-but, Hanta… your food is getting cold!”

He licks a stripe up your neck before nipping at it; making you squeal in response.

“Actually, I have everything I need in my arms right now.

He manhandles you so your ass is directly on top of his hard cock, “This is the only thing I need tonight, puppy. Are you going to be good for me?”

“Yes, yes sir. I'll be whatever you want me to be, Hanta.”

He groans at how good you are to him and presses your body down so he can watch himself rub his cock against your sweet, little ass.

“You look so good bent over like this for me, don’t you, princess?”

“Gimme more, Hanta. Please, missed you so much all day…”

He releases you from his hold and you're about to whine out for him to come back.

“Shut up. Go in the room and strip for me, yeah? Gonna make you feel so good, angel. Promise.”

You're dashing away from him before he can blink and he laughs loudly at your eagerness. You've always been such a good girl for him. It makes your heart beat faster hearing how happy you can make him just by listening to his instructions.

Sero waits a bit, smashes a bottle of water in the hopes it'll give you enough time to be stripped and waiting for him. He doesn't want to punish you tonight. Sometimes he enjoys it. But tonight, he just wants you to be his sweet, obedient little puppy. His cock throbs at the thought of you taking him like the good little bitch you are.

He slowly makes his trek to your shared bedroom, salivating at imagining what you look like waiting for him. It's even better than he could have hoped for. You're on your knees, in the middle of your bed wearing absolutely nothing with a sweet smile on your precious face.

“Baby… don’t you just look so pretty for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

God, he loves when you're like this. So sweet; so willing to please. To do whatever debauched thing he wants you to do.

“Come here, angel.”

You slowly remove yourself from the bed and walk so slowly over to him. Basking in the way his eyes trail all over your body.

He smirks devilishly down at you, “This all for me, puppy?”

You look away from his eyes with a sweet blush adoring your cheeks, “Of course, Hanta. It's only ever for you.”

“Place your hands against the window, sweetheart.”

You can’t do anything but obey. You're absolutely quivering in excitement. Sex with Sero is always such an exerience. He's always so good to you.

He drops to his knees and spreads your cheeks so he can see your cunt tighten around nothing.

“Wow, puppy. You're dripping. You're a nasty little thing, aren't you?”

There is no time for you to reply when you feel his face so close to your cunt. And he inhales. Fuck. its so embarassing but it always makes you so fucking wet.

He moves you up a little bit so you can feel his warm tongue on your clit.

He flicks his tongue on it before he's shoving it inside as far as he can get it. Just because he likes to feel you clench on it. He takes one of his fingers and starts softly rubbing your clit and the reaction is instant. You're clenching down so hard he thinks you're gonna trap his tongue inside you forever.

“M-more, Hanta. Give me more…”

Who is he to deny you when you're asking him so sweetly? He starts to rub figure 8’s onto your clit, putting only the slightest bit of extra pressure on it. It’s driving you insane. You want more.

“More, Hanta! Before I-”

And then he stops. Tears stream down your face when he moves away and you look down at him when you see the look on his face.

“What was that, puppy? Was that a threat? You're supposed to be my good girl, and here you are acting like a fucking brat. I was ready to devour your sweet cunt just the way you like it, but I guess I can't even do that. Such a shame.”

“W-wait, Hanta. I’m s-”

“Ah, ah, ah. Too late for apologies, sweetheart. I wanted to take my time, but I guess I'll just have to take what I want instead.”

Now, sometimes. You love when Hanta takes his time. When he builds you up, up, and up. And the other times, you love when he just takes what he wants with you. Does he make you come? Sure. but he makes himself come first. There is something so utterly, so undeniably sexy about your sweet, precious hero using you like a cock sleeve.

Youre dripping down your thighs, it’s a nasty mess and sero fucking loves it. He strips down to nothing and forces your body around so you're facing him. You look so cute and fucked out waiting for him to shove his fat cock in your pussy. You're biting your lip, looking at him up and down. Staring so longingly at his cock.

“What are you staring at my dick for? Acting like you don’t know I'm about to shove this whole thing inside you, huh, sweetheart?”

“You’re just so pretty, Hanta… I can't help myself sometimes.”

He chuckles at how cute you can be. Even when he's about to wreck your cunt.

Sero makes his way over to you; lightly grazing his hard cock around your soaking pussy lips.

“F-fuck, Hanta, you feel so good…”

“Yeah? Of course I do. It’s not about you right now though, is it, puppy?”

You blink up at him, unseeing. All you can think about is how nice his cock feels gliding against your pussy lips. He grabs one of your legs and puts it over his arm. You look so happy, so eager to please him it makes his tip drip with pre.

With no warning at all he slides his dick inside you as slowly as possible. You want him to shove it in rough, all at once. He knows this. Which is why he takes his sweet time. Watching your face twist in pleasure.

“Hanta, you're so big, please…”

“Can you shut up? For once?”

He grabs your other leg to go over his other arm and presses your back against the cold glass.

He’s unmoving. Feeling your cunt clench around him. Knowing how bad you want him to move. He doesn't give two fucks.

“I’m going to ruin you right here. Against this window. Above the world. This is my cunt, you know? I don't care how fast or hard you want me to go. I'm going to use you however I see fit. And there's absolutely nothing you can do about it, puppy.”

You clench down on him so tight he can’t help but let out a loud moan.

“You're disgusting, you know that? What kind of bitch gets off on the fact that she's about to be used like the whore she is. From a hero no less. You're nasty. Filthy.”

You whisper just loud enough for him to hear, “Of course I'm getting off to the fact that my hero wants to use my cunt.”

He slowly moves his hips, feeling the slick of your cunt. It glides so nicely around him he can’t help but fall in love with how good it feels.

“Such a nasty whore, taking my cock raw. You love it don’t you? Can you feel me, puppy? Can you feel me deep inside your guts?”

You can't think, you can't see. All you can do is focus on the feeling of him stretching you out to your limits. It feels so fucking good you might pass out.

You're drooling and he laughs at how fucked you look.

“I havent even done anything and youre dumb and drooling for it already? You're sick, puppy.”

He moves a little faster, and he can’t understand why it feels so good. Why does your cunt feel like heaven wrapped around him? He wants to obliterate your insides.

He walks you over to the bed without ever removing his cock from inside you. The way he is so strong that lifting you is nothing for him.

He throws you on the bed and you look up at him in confusion, wondering why his cock isnt nestled inside you.

He grabs you by the legs and yanks you over to him and enters you in one thrust.

He places your ankles on his shoulders and starts pounding you into the mattress.

He's moving in and out with such a brutal pace you're sure you're seeing stars.

“You love this don’t you? Love when I abuse your little cunt like nothing else matters? Love when I hit you so deep you can feel it in your throat.”

“Yes, yes, yes, Hanta. Love it so much, love your cock..”

“Yeah, puppy? Love when I fill you to the brim with my come, don't you? Want to be my little breeding bitch, don’t you princess?”

“Fuck, god, yes Hanta, please. Love feeling you come so deep inside me I cant even fucking reach it..”

“Yeah, princess? You love feeling it seep out of you, don’t you, angel?

You're sure you're trying to speak. It's coming out in garbled noise. He's hitting you so deep you're sure he's bruising your insides. It feels so good, his cock hits every spot it can. He's hitting your g spot with expert precision. You're clenching around him so tightly he’s sure he's going to burst at the seams.

He leans back to spit on your clit and starts rubbing it furiously.

“You gonna come for me, huh? Come on my cock like the good little bitch you are?”

You're about to moan out a yes, Hanta when he presses down just a little too hard on your clit and your eyes flash white. He keeps rubbing your it, keeps absolutely demolishing your cunt, extending your orgasm for as long as he can. He keeps going even after you're done, even after there are tears in your eyes telling him, “it’s too much, Hanta, too much” and he doesnt stop until he fills your cunt to the absolute brim with his come.

He collapses on top of you, completely exhausted from the day and his orgasm.

“Hanta,” you’re whining and smnacking him, “you’re heavy, get the fuck off before you kill me!”

He laughs at your indignant whining and slowly pulls out of you. He watches as you try to stop his come from seeping onto the bedsheets.

“Here, let me.”

And he pushes it all back inside you and grins wolfishly at the moan you let out.

“Hanta, please… let's go take a bath?”

He takes his fingers out of you and quirks an eyebrow at you waiting for you to open your mouth.

You do it obediently; sucking his come off of his fingers, making sure they're nice and clean like the good girl you are.

“Yeah, princess. We can do whatever you want.”

You smile so brightly at him, he's sure it rivals the stars.

“I love you, Hanta.”

“I love you more, princess.”

[beauvibaby]

all I could ever want – t.seguin

a/n: part 2 of there won’t be anyone else!! I definitely prefer the first part of this story, but I also love this one because it’s just straight fluff 😌

Word count: 2.9k

“Mommy!” Willow squealed in delight, running into the kitchen to see you, Tyler had picked her up from preschool on his way home from practice. “Willow!” You mimicked, laughing as she hugged your legs, “did you have a good day?” You asked with a grin, Tyler chuckled, “Miss Laura is having a baby.” Tyler spoke for her. Willow nodded excitedly, “aw, that’s great.” You smiled, hoisting Willow up to sit on the counter. “I want you to have a baby, mommy.” She spoke honestly, giving her dad a weird look when he choked on his water, you snickered at him. “Maybe.” You shrugged her comment off, thankful for her short attention span, she was asking to go play with the dogs as she wiggled her way into your arms to be put down on the ground. “Go ahead.” Tyler nodded her off and she went barreling towards the living room where the dogs were innocently napping, poor boys.

“What was that reaction for?” You asked once it was just the two of you, he mumbled something under his breath, “talk like an adult, Tyler.” You teased him, resting a hand on your hip as you gave him a stern look. “I just didn’t think she was going to want a sibling, she loves having all the attention.” He sighed, “plus my baby is too little to want another baby in the house.” He pouted dramatically. Ah, the real reasoning coming out. “Yeah, but you always said you wanted more kids, and you know I would be happy with a full house, so.” You trailed off, kind of disappointed by his lackluster reaction. “You still want to have more kids right?” You asked when he didn’t speak, finally locking your eyes on his. “Yes, of course.” He rushed, “after the wedding?” He offered, seeing your smile turn up, “really?” You gasped like a child. You wrapped your arms around his neck, “I don’t want you to think I don’t want more babies with you.” He smirked, kissing your pouted lips, “I was just so caught off guard.” He admitted honestly, his normal attitude coming back through.

You had to cut him some slack, thinking of how hard it was for him when Willow’s mom was pregnant, she didn’t want him involved in anything he wasn’t able to be apart of it up until the last second, it was like a switch flipped and suddenly she decided she wasn’t fit to raise a baby. As selfish as it sounds, you were so grateful for how it turned out, because at the end of the day you knew she was getting the best life possible with you and Tyler.

“Me too, honestly, I’m surprised she hasn’t asked how the baby gets in a woman’s stomach.” You quipped, Tyler groaned, “I can’t even think about that.” He muttered in defeat, kissing the side of your head. When he pulled away, you had a giddy smile on your face, “what?” He asked you suspiciously. “I can’t wait to have a baby with you.” You admitted, watching his nerves melt away. You knew Tyler, and you knew he was a worrier, even if he didn’t voice it, right now he was probably running over every horror story he’s heard about complicated pregnancies. “God you’re gonna look so beautiful.” He muttered, a glint in his eyes, you knew then, that it was all going to be ok, even if he was a nervous wreck. Which part of you thought he would be.

***

You stood by the window of your bridal suite, dressed in your gown and veil, one of the photographers getting photos of you looking out, coincidentally, in the open garden below you, Tyler was doing his first look with Willow, something the photographer had brought up to you, and you jumped on it. Those pictures would be cherished forever, Tyler really didn’t know what Willow was going to be dressed in, but you watched as he turned around and saw his little girl, who didn’t look so little, in a dusty rose colored dress, long lace sleeves and a nice puffy skirt, per her request. Her curls tamed beautifully for once as she actually let the hair stylist apply some products to them. Your grin was wide as he gasped, looking at her and she bounced over to him, you could see her mouth moving and you could only imagine how she was rambling on and on about her dress. A habit he swears she picked up from you.

“Y/N? You ready to head down?” Your maid of honor, your best friend Y/F/N asked, giving you a once over. You smoothed out your dress once more, looking down at the trumpet style gown. “Yeah.” You sniffled, fanning at your face. You and Tyler opted not to do a first look, you wanted to see his genuine reaction as you walked down the aisle. “You look stunning.” She assured you, lightly dabbing under your eyes with a tissue, the sound of the camera going off in the background.

As you reached your spot just behind the double doors, any nerves you had melted away, Tyler, the love of your life, was right on the other side of this wall, prepared to say I do to a lifetime with you.

Tyler’s father was walking you down the aisle, neither of your parents here to do it. As he approached, you smiled, hoping Tyler’s reaction would be similar to his dad’s. You’d grown close with his family over the years, they truly loved you, and it showed as his dad grabbed your hand, kissing the top of it as he smiled tearfully. “I’ll never really know how Tyler managed to snag you up, but he could have never made a better choice.” He explained, voice shaking before he cleared his throat. “Let’s get this show on the road.” He broke the silence, chuckling at himself as you looped your arm with his, holding your bouquet with the other.

The wedding March began to play, and the doors were pushed open, revealing you and Paul standing there. Instantly Tyler looked to the ceiling, his eyes watering already, the smile on his face was undeniable as you walked towards him slowly, your own eyes glazed over at the way he was looking at you. “Gorgeous.” He mouthed, your lips parting in a smile, he loved when he got those smiles out of you, the ones where the corners of your eyes would crinkle, and sometimes you would even scrunch your nose a bit. This was definitely one of those moments.

***

The wedding had come and gone, your honeymoon too, a simple trip with just the two of you before the hockey season started again. “Daddy.” Willow whispered, standing on his side of the bed, he stirred, blinking his eyes a couple of times to adjust to the darkness of the room. He turned his lamp on, “what’s wrong baby?” He asked softly, careful not to wake you as he caressed Willow’s face, frowning at the tears coating it. “I had a bad dream.” She whimpered, “come here.” He huffed as he pulled her up onto the bed. “Wanna tell me what happened?” He asked her, turning the lamp off as he let her cuddle with him. “No, just cuddles.” She mumbled sleepily, his heart swelled in his chest at that, “always, princess.” He sighed, kissing the top of her head as she easily laid on top of him, her teddy bear snuggled between them. You flipped over carefully, having woken up during their little conversation. Tyler gave you a tired smile as you placed a kiss on his shoulder before resting back on your pillow, a smile on your face as you listened to her light breathing.

As morning came you groaned in annoyance, morning sickness coming right along with it.

That’s right, you two had no trouble getting pregnant apparently, today was actually the day you were going to tell Willow about the baby. “Is mommy sick?” Willow asked Tyler as they woke up to you bolting out of bed, he held back a chuckle, “no, she’s ok.” He assured her, “stay here.” He demanded gently before coming to check on you as you brushed your teeth. “Hi babe.” He placed a kiss on your cheek, “doing ok?” He asked softly, locking eyes with you in the mirror. “Yeah,” you sighed, leaning into his hold after you rinsed your mouth out. “Are you ready to tell her?” You asked eagerly, “god, yes.” He groaned, giving you a quick kiss.

Willow was sitting in the middle of the bed, adjusting the bow on her teddy bear's head. “Good morning, baby.” You chuckled, sitting beside her, she shot you a smile, just like Tyler’s as she crawled into your lap. “Don’t forget miss bows.” She mumbled with a pout, Tyler snickered as you took the bear and placed a kiss on its head, “good morning, miss bows.” You spoke dramatically, Willow snuggling happily into you. “Hey, Willow.” Tyler spoke softly, sitting beside you, “guess what?” He smiled at her, she sat up a little straighter, “what?” She asked cutely, you shared a look with Tyler. “We’re gonna have a baby.” You told her, relief hitting you as she jumped up screaming in excitement. “A baby?!” She squealed. You quickly pulled out your phone to record her, sending it to Tyler’s parents. “When?” She asked giggling, sitting crossed legged in front of you both. “Oh, it’s still going to be a few months honey.” You explained sweetly, “but you’re going to be a big sister, that means you can help me and mommy get stuff ready for the baby.” Tyler assured her, wanting her to feel involved and not like the baby was going to completely take over.

The months started flying by, you were having a little boy, Tyler thought he wanted another daughter, which of course he would have been just as excited for, but when he heard it was a boy, you could see the way his eyes lit up. Willow had been a little upset at first, wanting a little sister that she could do all her fun girly things with as she got older, but after some long conversations and some explanations, you convinced her of all the reasons it would be fun for her to have a brother.

Tyler was more than nervous as your water broke in the middle of the night, of course you’d thought ahead and had spoken to Tyler’s mom, who had been staying with you guys for about a week, to be here and help with Willow once you had the baby. He swears that your labor went on forever, but really, you’d gotten lucky and progressed quickly. Nearly missing the window to get the epidural, which terrified you, but you got it, and now you had a very healthy, chunky little eight pound baby boy. Much to everyone’s surprise, everyone expected him to be smaller, but you weren’t complaining.

“Oh my god.” You cried out as they put him on your chest, his screams filling the room, it felt like an eternity until he began to cry, but he was sure to make up for it.

“I can’t believe we made him.” Tyler mumbled, unlike Willow, Hunter was born with next to no hair. “I know.” You whispered, running your finger across his chubby cheek, he was peacefully sleeping in your arms, already a hungry baby, having drunk himself right to sleep. “I hope he looks like you.” Tyler muttered, lightly kissing the side of your head, a smile graced your lips, “I hope he looks like you.” You giggled, “but I kind of don’t, because then all the girls will be after him when he’s a teenager.” You added, your husband chuckling beside you. “Let’s worry about his first night home, yeah?” He laughed softly. “Willow is going to be so excited.” You sighed, lacing your fingers with Tyler’s.

***

“Mommy, daddy!” Willow rushed over when you walked in, Tyler having the car seat around his arm. “Hi, sweet girl.” You welcomed her hug, kneeling to her height. “Were you good for grandma?” You asked gently, she nodded eagerly before moving over to hug Tyler once he placed the car seat down. “Hi princess.” He grinned, hugging her tightly, “I missed you.” He kissed the top of her head, laughing as she completely disregarded his comment and looked at Hunter in awe. “He’s so pretty.” She gasped, making you and Jackie both laugh. “He really is a beautiful baby, honey.” Jackie spoke to you, giving you a gentle hug. Tyler moved the car seat up to the table, shushing Willow as he assured her she would get to hold him. “Go wash your hands.” Jackie instructed her, walking over to Tyler as he easily held the newborn in his hands. She kissed her son's cheek before grabbing Hunter’s hand, “hello beautiful boy.” She cooed, running her thumb over his arm. “You did good.” She commented to Tyler, lightly nudging his side, he shot her a smile, “yeah.” He agreed, glancing at you.

“Can I hold him, please, please?” Willow begged, running out with freshly washed hands, you nodded, “go sit on the couch, I’ll bring him to you.” You instructed her softly, she giggled and ran off to the couch, you gently took Hunter from Tyler, “oh, Jackie did you want to hold him fi–“ “No, no, let Willow do it first, she’s just so excited.” Jackie cut you off mid ramble. You smiled in relief, slowly walking over to the couch, Tyler came and sat next to her, he put a pillow on her lap, and had her put arms out on it. “You have to be really gentle, ok?” He told her as he put his arms around her, his hands offering extra support for the baby’s neck. You laid Hunter down, smiling as Willow cooed down to him, “hi baby brother.” She giggled, looking over at you and then to Tyler. “Mommy,” she mumbled as you sat next to them, Tyler picking the baby up as he began to fuss, “I love him.” Willow concluded in the most serious voice. “I love him too.”

***

Hunter gurgled up at you as you dressed him in sweatpants, now two months old, and all of you were missing Tyler as he just had his first away game of the season. You left him shirtless, a pun at how Tyler always walked around the house in his pajamas, “mommy, I wanna match.” Willow pouted, you looked at her in thought for a moment, knowing you couldn’t let her run around in only pants, even if it was only in the house. “Oh, I have an idea.” You grinned, scooping the baby up and going into the back of the closet, where most of Tyler’s old shirts were. “Come here baby!” You called, Willow came bouncing in, one of your fondest memories as a child was wearing your dad's old shirts as pajamas, so why not pass it on to her. “Pick one to wear.” You told her, smiling as she got all excited, flipping through them, she pulled two down off the hangers, “where this one mommy, please.” She gave you her puppy eyes, not that she had to. You nodded, taking the shirt from her and going into the bathroom to change into it, leaving your shorts in underneath.

A loud laugh fell from your lips as you walked out and saw her drowning in his shirt, but there was nothing more adorable. “Come here, let me get a picture.” You made Willow lay on the bed, and put Hunter next to her, you wanted to send the picture to him, but you’d rather him be surprised by your outfit choices for the night. “Hello!” Tyler called from downstairs, Willow giggled carefully moving away from Hunter, “careful, hold the shirt up so you don’t fall!” You called as she took off out of the room, her response faded out as she bounced down the steps, you following with Hunter curled up in your arms. “Hey baby!” You heard Tyler gasp, “what do you think you’re wearing?” He questioned her, lifting her up into his arms. “We missed you so much, we figured why not dress up as you.” You explained, making him look up and see you in one of his shirts and Hunter in little grey sweatpants, Tyler threw his head back in laughter, “are you surprised?” Willow asked him, arms clasped around his neck, he hummed in agreement as he kissed her cheek before coming over to you. “Hi.” He whispered before pecking your lips.

“Hi.” You repeated, smiling as he pulled away, Willow wiggled her way down to the ground, allowing him to take Hunter from you. “Hey bud, looking good.” He mumbled kissing across his chubby cheeks. “And mama, as beautiful as ever.” He winked over at you. He smirked when you rolled your eyes with a smile, “movie night!” He declared, bolting up the stairs with Hunter to go change. You chuckled as you ordered pizza, deciding to make it a fun simple night. You knew that it wouldn’t always be like this, but you knew that whatever life through at you, you two could make it work.

“You know, I’ve got all I could ever want right here.” Tyler mumbled as you sat curled up on the couch with two sleeping kids on your laps. “Me too, Ty.”

taglist: @boqvistsbabe @tortito @2manytabsopen @heybarzy @barzysreputation @yzas-stuff @iwantahockeyhimbo @calgarycanuck @myhockeyworld87 @shortstacks-blog @mymanshawn @calgarycanuck @pagirl6866 @chronosarcheron

[mickeyhenrysgf]

Road Trip

Summary: Bucky Barnes doesn’t know how to admit his feelings towards you.

A fluff Drabble based on the new content

You were excited when you learned the news you would be going on a mission with Wilson & Barnes. Being an assistant had its perk. Currently, you were on the road to your secret cabin hideout with the two of them. You turned your head and secretly watched Bucky. His now short hair gave a better view of his face and his delicious jawline. If only the two of you could be cuddling with one another in the back seat.... it would be less boring...

Sam Wilson presented a small smirk in the rear view mirror as he drove. He found it hilarious that Bucky never caught your stares. The best part was Sam also knew Bucky had a crush on you.

“We should be there soon, I call dibs on the solo bedroom.” Sam spoke up.

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed and he cleared his throat. “But, what about Y/N?” He questioned and your eyes widen lightly at the fact that Bucky was even acknowledging you.

“I thought we promised we would give it to her” his voice becoming stern as he sits up. You’re taken by his actions, also, sitting up.

“Buck— it’s totally fine... Sam said something about his neck hurting...” you shrugged while Sam smiled lightly in the rear view mirror. His plan was falling into place.

Bucky shook his head in disbelief and sighed mumbling something incoherent under his breath.

Before any conversation could continue, Sam was already pulling up into the secluded woods. The cabin eventually coming into the view through the trees.

“Here we are!” Sam announced, parking the car and you un-click your seatbelt, heading to your home for the next couple of days.

As days followed along the mission, you awkwardly shared a bedroom with Bucky. He insisted that he would just sleep on the small couch. His legs would hang from the edge, and then he would complain about aches. If only he listened to you, and just slept in the bed with you. You really didn’t mind.

“Sam, can we talk?” Bucky requests, walking a fast pace down the road and Sam follows him.

“What’s going on in that cyborg brain of yours?”

“You don’t want to know. But--” Bucky stops mid sentence as he looks ahead to see you alone on the road. He wished his hands were laced with yours, reassuring you that the mission would go fine tomorrow.

“She likes you, man” Sam noticed the way Bucky stared at you these past days. And countless days before that. A lovesick puppy is what he was. 

“No she doesn’t...”

Sam rolls his eyes. If only he could knock some sense into his friend.

“Trust me, Buck. Go talk to her.“ He insists, practically pushing his friend away.

“God... I hate you.”

Bucky grunts and awkwardly jogs ahead to meet you in the road. You smile as he comes up next to you.

“Oh hey— bored of Sam already?” You tease, chuckling softly, and Bucky smiles big. His heart already fluttering every-time you speak.

“I guess so” Bucky shrugs. “I—I just didn’t want you to be alone.”

“Who? Me? Bucky, I totally understand if you want to talk to Sam. You’ve known him for years and I’m here to just learn the ropes.” There was no hard feelings.

Bucky was lost for words. He really didn’t know what to say next. He sucked at the flirting game in the 21st century.

“But we can be friends, too...”

“I thought we were already friends!” You state playfully, looking up at him, panic settling within him.

Of course, he considered you as a friend. He wanted to be more than friends, frankly.

“That’s not what I meant—! You are my friend. What I-I meant was I was thinking about the sleeping arrangements and we should totally sleep in the bed together...”

The words didn’t sound right as he spoke. His nerves were overtaking him. Bucky was switching to a new conversation with each sentence.

Sam watched the train wreck in front of him. But, he still had faith in his friend. Just give him a few more seconds. He’s got it... As much as Bucky was bombing this encounter, Sam knew how head over heels you were for him. Bucky could say almost anything and you would still find it adorable.

A smirk twitches against your lips. “Well, Bucky I’ve been telling you that for the longest. I hate to see your body in pain the next morning over something so simple. What’s changed your mind?”

Bucky takes a deep breath before speaking.

“The truth is I get nervous around you Y/N... so I thought if I slept on the couch, I could escape this problem. But it only seems to be getting worse...” he looks down, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

You smile wide, a sudden warmth flushing your cheeks. “I get nervous around you too...”

Bucky’s eyes shoot up in an instant. One of his eyebrow raises. He would have never expected someone like you to be nervous when you displayed such a cool and collected manner. “You do?”

You nod, stopping to look up at him.

“You make me nervous, Bucky... because I like you.” Bucky’s breath hitches, little shit Sam was actually right. Don’t screw this up, Bucky thought.

“I like you too, doll...” you bite your bottom lip, internally squealing inside. His hands slowly inch towards yours and naturally intertwine with your fingers. This isn't exactly how he pictured it but it was everything he wanted.

As the two of you walk in silence hand in hand for a couple of moments, Bucky finally speaks up again.

“Hey, doll... are you a kicker in your sleep?” He asks, his thumb rubbing over your hand ever so gently.

“No? Why?”

“Because I am but when I’m wrapped around something... like a pillow— it goes away.”

“Is this your way of saying you want to cuddle when we get home?”

“Yes...” Bucky shyly looks down at you and nods. His hand squeezing yours softly.

“I’d love to cuddle with you Bucky...” you tippy toe and press a small kiss against his cheek.

Bucky is officially walking on clouds. Maybe he didn’t hate Sam that much.

[pitaparka]

when you want him to choke you headcanons

note — NSFW. this bitch is kinky. obviously. lost of choking references, a little breathplay at the end there. all of the boys are willing in one way or another because pedro plays them, alright?? i believe in my heart that that man is kinky as hell. good morning and good night. happy superbowl. fuck you tom brady. big love to every one else besides tom brady <3

warnings: choking, penetrative sex, breathplay

MANDO

- is stunned

- you want him... to do what??

- excuse me??

- choke you?? like, with his hands??

- in the heat of the moment you guide his huge, bare hand to the softness of your throat

- he can feel the vibrations of your whimpers against the webbing of his hand and he almost blows his load right then and there

- the idea that he can wreck you like that gets him excited

- the first few times it gets his adrenaline pumping, but then he really starts to want to get closer to you, pull you in closer, fuck you on his lap in the cockpit while the baby naps in the pod

- he finds it interesting, all of these kinks, and never gets bored of them, but he's a simple man

- he's just glad you want to share these experiences with him and provide such a stable source of pleasure for him in his life that used to be so devoid of it

EZRA

- finds it quite hard to choke you with one hand, but willing to oblige you

- he's afraid of putting too much weight on your neck, so he refuses to do it in any position where he doesn't have much control

- but he ends up getting really into it

- he finds it so arousing, the dubious nature of it

- he likes the idea of being so in control of you, being able to control your breaths, your breathing

- he quite literally has your life in his hands, and it gets him rock hard

- he likes to control your moans, cut them off with his hand while you're riding him, pretending like you two have to be quiet

- will definitely ask you to let him do it again sometime

FRANKIE

- frankie is a little taken aback when you ask

- but you're so needy, mewling and whimpering underneath him

- he squeezes your jaw hard, and presses his mouth to it

- his husky voice reverberates against your nerves, and his lips move passionately across your skin before his hand moves to tilt your head up for better access

- it's like he can read your mind

- just the right pressure, just the right grasp, and can easily read when it starts to become uncomfortable

- he loves the way you anchor yourself to him by grabbing his wrist, pushing him in closer and pulling him back when it becomes too much

- communication is super important for him, so being able to gauge when he's getting too into it and what kinds of pressure you like are vital

- he loves the way you moan when he does it, so eventually, he's going to ask you to do it to him as well

WHISKEY

- a bit more vanilla than you'd expect from someone so forward, but is interested in this particular kink you have

- he'll trace the shell of your ear with his fingers, brush the side of your jaw, play with you lower lip, before cupping his hand lightly to your throat

- he likes to see how you fit so well in his hand, the way you gasp and shudder for him when he forces your chin up to look him in the eye

- the way his lip curls up when he realizes how smitten you are for him, the way he could tell you to do anything and you'd probably do it with the heat of his hand flush against your neck

- you have to show him how to do it properly, in order to not crush your windpipe, but he gets the hang of it swiftly enough

- is very possessive, and WILL allude to it in public

- he'll wrap his arm around your shoulders, and brush his fingers up against your neck

- he'll say you have something on your neck and go to wipe it away, his fingers splayed down the side of it

- he smiles when he sees your goosebumps, and you know you're in for it when you get home

JAVIER PEÑA

- he likes to kiss you with his hand wrapped around your neck

- to feel your heartbeat through your throat

- if it speeds up when he does it, he knows he's doing something right

- when he takes you from behind, he likes tugging on your hair, wrapping a hand securely around your throat so you know you're not going anywhere

- he really likes it, actually

- he loves the feeling of pressing you impossibly closer into him

- he likes to admire your beautiful throat, when your chest is pressed up against his and he's fucking up into you

- he'll grab your hair at the roots, and pull back on it, to wrap his fingers securely around the base of your throat, keeping you there

- his hands find every erogenous part of you they can, so to have one more spot he knows he can get you off with, that's all the more pleasure from javi

MARCUS MORENO

- he laughs mischievously when you ask him to do it

- he likes to get your blood rushing to all the hottest parts of you first

- he plants wet kisses to your neck, his nose pressing hard into your skin

- the way you heat up for him, and get so excited when he does it

- his free hand finds a way between your thighs and the other one curls around your throat

- it's great for when you're getting too loud and he's afraid you'll wake missy or alert the neighbors, even

- he loves listening to you pant heavily after you're done

- he also loves feeling you dig your nails into his back when you orgasm and his hand is wrapped around your throat

- those scratches aren't terribly difficult to hide, and the idea that you've marked him up as yours is reward enough for indulging in your requests

MARCUS PIKE

- will be the most reluctant, as nobody has ever asked this of him before

- he's scared of hurting you, but you seem to get really into it

- he's in awe of you when you push his hand harder and harder into your neck, moaning and whimpering soft and broken from underneath his grip

- he's not actually the one in charge here, but with his hand wrapped around your windpipe, her certainly feels like he is

- he doesn't want to leave bruises, and definitely checks up on you after the sex or the make out session

- you tell him that he doesn't have to worry as much, but that doesn't give him peace of mind

- it's only when you gently introduce him to the receiving end of it does he understand

- he doesn't like it as much as when you're writing and moaning underneath him, but he figures that if you like it, and he's really not hurting you, he doesn't mind you wrapping his fingers around your neck sometimes

MAX PHILLIPS

- max has always loved your neck, nipping at it, leaving hickeys, pressing his fingers into the pliable skin there

- so when you beg him to choke you, to force all the air out of your chest, to wrap his long fingers around your throat

- he doesn't need to be told twice

- he loves it so much, he starts doing it without needing to be asked

- he presses you up against a wall, or pins you to the bed, and squeezes just enough for you to just barely be able to breathe

- he fucks hard when he chokes you

- you swear you almost pass out when he does it, but he allows you to pull his hands back if he's getting too rough

- he likes to feel your hands wrapped around his throat too, mainly because he doesn't need to breathe, so seeing you fall apart on top of him, seeing your hands wrapped around such a delicate piece of him, squeezing as hard as you can as you ride out your orgasm

- he loves nothing more than orgasms, necks, and good business. and two out of three isn't bad

MAXWELL LORD

- he frames your face with his hands, thumbs tracing your cheeks, and you almost melt at his soft touch

- maxwell is usually quite eager, but gentle in the best ways

- the best part about when he chokes you and fucks you at the same time, is that he subconsciously squeezes in time with each of his thrusts

- his arm frames your head and his face is so close you yours and you just can't help trying to moan around his hand

- he loves loves loves hearing you moan, so usually he'll let up to allow them to escape your mouth

- but then he's right back on it, because he knows that the more he does it, the closer you'll get, and the louder you'll be

- his rings dig marks into your neck, but you love the cold contrast to the warmth of his fingers

OBERYN MARTELL

- will most definitely choke you if you ask him to

- he likes to have you demonstrate for him just exactly how you like it

- your breath hinges in your throat when he takes your hand in his, and presses it underneath his jaw, right above his adams apple

- and you press into his neck and his eyes narrow before he take you and pushes you down onto whatever surface is closest so he can fuck you

- he lights a fire in your core that's impossible to extinguish without him

- he likes to come up from behind you, wrap his hand around your throat, and shove his hand into your pants or up your dress or around whatever you're wearing

- and he loves to feel you push back against him when he does it

- he knows he's got you right where he wants you in that case

- his fingers flex around your throat and he tries to cover as much area at once

- he believes in allowing you to be as loud as you want, since he wants all of dorne to know how good of a lover he is

- but if his fingers are wrapped around your throat, he doesn't mind swallowing all of your moans in a kiss

PERO TOVAR

- tries to choke you out with two hands at first

- you really gotta slow him down and show him the ropes

- sometimes he gets excited about it, other times he's less enthusiastic

- but he loves pleasing you, deep down inside that cold heart of his

- which is why he obliges the request

- once he gets the hang of it, its over for you bitches

- he's up in your ear, panting and whispering dirty things, downright filthy things

- and he squeezes your neck tightly, his fingers wrapped snugly around your throat

- you swear his one hand almost wraps the entire way around, his fingers are so long

- he prefers fast and dirty sex, so this kind of kink is right up his alley

- especially because of how rough he can be with you

- when you two get close, he starts squeezing tighter and tighter, until you almost cant breathe, and your release, when he finally lets go, is one of the best orgasms you've ever had

- which is how pero accidentally discovers his breathplay kink

[honeypiehotchner]

coming out -- Hotch’s Daughter!Reader headcanon

Just a lil thing I wrote to comfort myself because sometimes I wonder a little too much about how different I’d be if I had a better coming out experience a.k.a. if Aaron Hotchner was my dad he would’ve been a lot nicer to me

(Also it’s in hc format because I am too exhausted to write a full blown fic right now, love y’all though xx.)

Summary: Hotch adopted you when you were 17 and he’s been nothing but the best Dad anyone could ask for. You’re 19 now and a freshman in college, and you have something important to tell him. Thanksgiving break is coming up soon and...you invited your girlfriend to spend the week with you.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, one mention of being too anxious to eat

you’d be a nervous fucking wreck

who wouldn’t be, though?

even when you know the person is supportive, you’re still nervous. when you came out to your best friend, you were trembling like crazy, even though she’s never once been anything but supportive of the lgbtq+ community

all that aside, your dad is different

he’s pretty closed off at times, but you expected that when he adopted you

he’s a single dad, raising a young son, and for some reason decided to add you, a seventeen year old girl into the mix

you’re nineteen now, and in your freshman year of college, which means you’ve gone through a lot of self-exploration

and in the short period that you’ve been on your own, you’ve realized something

you like girls. like a lot. like, so much so that you have a girlfriend, and you’ve been dating her for seven months now

and you invited her home for thanksgiving

in your defense, she has nowhere else to go, because her family is from out of the country, and they don’t celebrate thanksgiving

you want her to experience the holiday for the first time, and when she mentioned wanting to spend it with someone she loves, you blurted out the offer

the only problem is, your dad has no idea she’s coming home with you

thanksgiving break starts in two days

on a last minute, impulsive, “if i don’t tell him right now i will throw up everywhere” decision, you drove to your dad’s office

the BAU is only a thirty minute drive from your dorm, so you visit your dad every other week or so

it’s a Wednesday and it’s barely 2pm, so you know he’ll be there

but he doesn’t expect you at all

he’s in the middle of a phone call when you knock on his office door, and his facial expression is more than shocked when he sees its you standing there

you stretch out on the couch like you’ve done countless times when you didn’t want to be alone at home and Jack was off with friends

Hotch can tell something is eating you, so he tries to hurry the phone call along as quick as he can, and soon he’s hanging up

“hey you,” he says, standing and rounding the desk to give you a hug

you gladly accept it, wrapping your arms around his middle

you never really used to like hugs, but his have always made you feel safe

that and Jack loves hugs, so you kind of had to get used to them with him being your little brother

“surprise,” you chuckle nervously

having a profiler for a dad means that absolutely nothing gets past him, but he’s done his best since adopting you to not push subjects that you don’t want pushed

but occasionally, when he can see how badly something is hurting you to keep inside, he breaks that rule

just like he does today

“what’s going on?” he asks, sitting in one of the chairs across from the couch, letting you stretch back out

“well,” you pause to clear your throat, “you know how thanksgiving is next week?”

“yes,” he nods. “you’re on break, right?”

“mhm,” you confirm. “all week.”

“Jack will like having you back home all the time.”

“i’ll like getting to spend more time with him,” you smile, having forgotten about that. Hotch will still be working up until Wednesday, and then will probably be back Friday, but you and Jack can fill the other days easily, especially since it’s been a while

“was that all?” Hotch asks, knowing it wasn’t

“well,” you say again; it’s your nervous tell. “how would you feel if i...invited someone over?”

“like a friend?” he asks, and you nod hesitantly. “i don’t see why not.”

“okay,” you exhale. that was easy enough, but it wasn’t the truth. not completely. “what if it’s a girl?”

Hotch chuckles quietly. “it can be a girl, a boy, or anyone. i don’t mind. as long as they don’t mind an air mattress to sleep on and a little brother running around.”

“what if...what if she slept in my bed? with me.”

silence.

but then he smiles. “that’s okay too.”

“you’re not mad?” you ask.

“why would i be mad?” he asks seriously. “is she your girlfriend?”

“...yes.”

“for how long?”

“seven months,” you blurt. “and is it okay if she’s here all week? her family is from out of the country, so she can’t exactly go anywhere else, and i panicked because i love her and i invited her--”

“it’s okay, Y/N, slow down,” he says softly. “yes, she can stay the whole week.”

“thank you,” you murmur, chewing on your lower lip, and stopping when you see your dad tap his own lip

it’s a small thing he’s done for you since he adopted you. if you’re chewing your lips or cheeks, he quietly taps his

“you’re not mad or...weirded out or anything?”

“not at all,” he says. “truthfully, i’m surprised it took you this long to tell me. i knew you were seeing someone.”

“what?!” you gasp. “how could you even tell?”

“the tone of your voice,” he confesses. “i could tell when she would be there, but i didn’t know who and i didn’t want to bring it up. you don’t have to tell me everything and i knew you’d tell me whenever you were ready. but i knew someone was making you happier.”

“well,” you half laugh, half scoff. “i can’t believe you. but i don’t know why i’m surprised-- hang on, did you already know i was gay?”

he shrugs. “i had my suspicions, but again, i knew you would tell me when you were ready -- if there was anything you wanted to tell.”

“oh my god,” you cover your face with your hands. leave it to your dad to make such a nerve-wracking situation become classically embarrassing. “are you kidding me? i swear to god.”

“on an unrelated note,” he laughs, “would you like to go out to dinner with her tonight?”

you furrow your eyebrows, lowering your hands. “yeah? her and i always do?”

“it’s on me,” he says. “use the credit card.”

“the card is for emergencies.”

“then consider this an emergency.”

“dad.”

“yes daughter?”

that always irritates you when he does that, but you smile anyway. “thank you. for being the best, always,” you roll your eyes with a laugh, always dramatic.

“thank you for sharing this part of your life with me,” he says sincerely. “oh, and i’m still giving her a hard time when she’s over.”

“what? no!”

“it’s my duty.”

“i will lock you out of the house.”

“i’ll kick the door down.”

“be nice to her,” you say seriously. “i really like her.”

“i know,” he smiles. “do you want to stay for lunch since you’re already here?”

oh, right, you haven’t eaten yet. you woke up anxious as hell about telling him, so you haven’t had any food today. “please,” you chuckle. “is garcia here?”

he nods, “in her office.”

“sweet,” you grin. “i’ll be back later with food.”

“okay,” he laughs, watching you practically bounce off the walls now that you’ve been relieved of that big secret. “hey, Y/N?”

you turn around. “yeah?”

“i love you.”

you smile wide, practically throwing yourself in his arms this time. “i love you too, dad.”

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (2)

pairing: taehyung x f reader

genre: horror au, yandere au, saw/john kramer au

synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

warnings: mentions of suicidal thoughs, abusive relationships, stalking etc. dont read if triggered. there are some ?? fucked up things in this but idk what to word them. but also mentions of self harm/self hating thoughts.

wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: unedited so pls forgive me for any mistakes and lmk if u want to be added to a taglist^^

series masterlist

part one part three

You’d spent a couple of hours in the café with Taehyung. Jimin popped over every now and then to talk with his best friend and to make sure you had everything you needed while there.

When you left, Jimin wrapped his arms around you as he bid his farewell, “It was lovely to meet you Y/N! Please, don’t be a stranger!” You simply nodded your head as you pulled away from the hug. You grinned back at him as he moved to Taehyung. You opened the door, carefully stepping outside to leave the boys with some privacy.

Once the door shut Jimin’s smile beamed, “so she’s the girl you’re always talking about, Flower? Right?”

“Yeah she is, thanks for that though man but, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you later?”

Taehyung smiled as he made his way towards you, you looked up and he swore, he saw a hint of nervousness in your eyes, probably because it’s dark, he thought to himself. “Come on then, let’s get you home.” He held out his hand, you were quick to grab a hold of it. Taehyung intertwined your fingers as he tugged you back across the road, “it’ll take about twenty minutes, you gonna be alright to walk?” he glanced down to you.

Your heart warmed at the way his eyes smiled with him, “I’ll be fine, thank you.” He seemed happy enough with your answer as you fell into a steady rhythm. You felt a little conflicted, you may not know Taehyung well but he had an energy about him that made you wanna spill every secret you knew, you’d shared pointless stories while you were at the café, having learnt Taehyung was a family oriented person, he loved art and he was passionate about little subjects other people would deem small. Yet he had a warmth that you’d not seen in anyone else.

Fuck it, you thought, he’s shown nothing but kindness, you may aswell open upto him… atleast.

“I was in an abusive relationship.” Taehyung felt himself smirk but quickly wiped it from his face, he arched an eyebrow as he looked down to you, “it was my first too. It left me, fucked up, in a way. Not that I wasn’t already fucked up.” Progress. He squeezed your hand in reassurance, go on… “I’ve always been insecure and uh, uncomfortable with the way I look. After that disaster of a relationship, it left me worse for wear.” you kept your eyes on the road, you didn’t want to see the judgement on his face yet it didn’t stop you from carrying on, “I never told my friends or family about it. None of them knew I was struggling before it anyway so I’ve been letting it tear me apart.”

“Why tell me then doll?”

You risked a glance at his face. There were no traces of judgement or pity. Swallowing down your nerves, you added softly, “I had to tell someone. Even if that someone is a random person— who showed me kindness when I needed it.”

Taehyung felt his heart clench, she’s already trusting me… this was easier than I thought. “Don’t feel like you need to tell me anything baby,” I already know it all.

You felt your cheeks burn from the pet name, how could something so simple, affect you this much? God, talk about a schoolgirl crush. “That’s the thing, I don’t feel like I need to. I just, I want to.”

Taehyung presented you with his boxy grin, “Then you can tell me anything you want, whether it's big or small.”

“Thank you Taehyung.” It was like the sun had shone down on you, the simplest gesture meant the world. Here you had a person willing to talk to you about your darkest secrets. A person willing to listen. Someone who had no ties to your family, which made it easier for the words to flow from you, “It’s like, I was this happy, care-free kid. I smiled without forcing it and when I laughed… I felt free. I didn’t feel like I was losing my breath. Not like I do now, everytime I do so much as breathe, it's like these roots have twisted around my lungs and everytime a breath escapes, they crush them tighter. It’s like a reminder. You’re never fully alive. You’re never fully happy. Pain overrides any other emotion. I’ve learned that, after all those years. I used to think, I’d never accept it.” A solemn silence fell over you. The roots squeezed your lungs even tighter as you whispered, “I’m scared of living.”

“Flower, some people are anchored to this world by their feet, others by their fears. You don’t have to voice it, I know you’re scared. You have your fears. Your demons. The thing you were doing at the cafe; is destructive. Anything that harms you, is destructive. Fuck, it may only be something as simple as picking your skin but that can lead into bigger things.”

It already has.

“Taehyung, I know that. I knew when it started but it helps, it lessens my anxiety. You’re the only one to have picked up on it. My friends… they don’t notice. If they do, they don’t mention it.”

Taehyung scoffed, “You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?”

Your mouth was sewn shut. You didn’t want to admit it but, there was some truth to his words.

You walked home in silence.

That night haunted you. It forced its way into your dreams. It clouded your thoughts when Yoongi and Hoseok were with you. When you’d spent time together, you were vacant. A soulless body. It was like a poison had found its way into your brain, second guessing relationships and people’s motives.

‘You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?’

Why were you letting it get in your head so much? You knew your friends. They were the only ones you felt safe with. They were your friends for a reason, they supported you (albeit sometimes they had a sense of… tough love) but they always had your back.

You didn’t mention Taehyung to Yoongi or Hoseok. You felt as though that was something that should be kept between you and him. Plus, the duo would’ve felt betrayed and upset by the fact you had wandered into foreign territory alone and found company in a complete stranger-- especially after they’d warned you about the whole Jigsaw shit.

To save the arguments, you went about your life as usual. You helped out your Mum with the flower shop, the array of flowers made you realise how the simplest things were beautiful. That of course, didn’t include yourself. Rancid thoughts clouded what was once, a tranquil space. Those god forsaken roots hadn’t lessened. Breathing was still difficult— as was pretending that you were absolutely fine.

You avoided mirrors, a quick glance could wreck your entire mood. You hated people taking photos of you, it made you scrutinise every single thing.

My nose is too big.

My chin is too round.

My face just shouts ugly.

My legs are disgusting.

My stomach is embarrassing.

My boobs are weird.

Not to say, you didn’t have these thoughts on the regular. However, the more you eluded your appearance, the voices lessened. You could ignore the way you looked, forget it completely. Often convinced yourself you were a plain person. The stereotypical norm: someone that no one would look twice at. It helped you get on with everyday tasks, it helped you ease the anxiety.

After all, every flower must grow through dirt.

But how would you react? If you knew, he had all the pictures of you?

Tuesdays you worked at your Dad’s garage. You didn’t know much about cars but you enjoyed his company. As well as spending time with Hobi and Yoongi. You often found yourself pranking the former with Yoongi, little jokes that luckily, didn’t piss Hobi off too much.

Today though, you were late. You’d had to spend more time trying to find the more appropriate clothing… you didn’t want people to see the slashed lines of red that littered your body.

After you messily threw an outfit together, you made your way down to the garage. You found your eyes trained on the silver Nissan Skyline, mouth agape as you collided into something.

You felt hands grab your shoulders, “Watch where you’re going,” Yoongi brought his hands to ruffle your hair, “gotta be careful while we’ve got that here kidda. That fuckers expensive.” He released a chuckle as you rolled your eyes, softly elbowing him out the way.

Your dad was under the bonnet, a box of tools were scattered around his feet. Organised mess, your Dad was infamous for it.

“Sorry I’m late Pops, what do you want me to do?”

Not even a second later, your Dad turned to face you, “Ah darling, not a lot while we’re working on this. Can you go make us some drinks?”

“Yeah course, I won’t be too long!”

You passed Hoseok on your way to the little kitchen situated at the back, he sent you a wink as he shouted across, “Coffee for me kidda!”

Three cups were spread in front of you. Americano for Yoongi, Coffee for Hobi and Cappuchino for Pops. Just as you were about to shout the guys, a presence had situated itself comfortably behind you. Before you had time to turn around, a deep baritone voice addressed you, “You not gonna ask me if I want a cup baby?”

You felt yourself still. You knew that voice. The voice that was haunting your dreams, even your wake.

You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?

Taehyung watched the way your body tensed, your shoulders stiffened, your breathing altered. Hm, she’s nervous. How cute.

“What are you doing here?” the words passed your lips, delivered as though they were encased in thorns.

A deep chuckle filled the room, “What do you think I’m doing here?” Taehyung inched closer, the atmosphere was almost palpable. You felt the way his chest brushed against your back, a sudden chill shot through you as he brought his hand up— which grazed against your skin whilst he moved your hair from your neck. His eyes turned hungry at the sight of your goosebumps. Your heart raced when he brought his head lower, lips next to your ear, “You think I’m here for you baby?” I am… but you don’t need to know that just yet.

You spun around, squashed between the table and Taehyung. Heat radiated off of him, how can he be so hot? It felt like you were in a furnace (while face to face with the Devil.)

Fear stricken, you tried to fight through it. Don’t show him. Don’t let him see. With a sarcastic smile plastered on your face you retorted, “Of course you are Taehyung. You tracked me down using the information I gave you and figured out which Garage is ours.”

The sarcasm was practically dripping from your tone like venom. Taehyung felt himself stifle a laugh.

You just didn’t know. In all fairness, you didn’t know anything. How would you know that Taehyung had done exactly that, except he’d done it months prior.

He lowered his head to yours, your hands raised to push him away but Taehyung wrapped his fingers around each wrist and tugged them to lay between you before you even had the chance to nudge him. You felt like you were stuck in a Venus fly trap.

“I’m not some type of sicko, doll.”

You were just a naive, misunderstood, little girl.

“I’m getting my car fixed. Your dad’s working on it right now.”

Your body visibly relaxed, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Oh, the Skyline? Wait, you have a car and made us walk back to mine the other week?”

“I didn’t make you walk for the fun of it baby, my car is literally in the shop so obviously it was broken.”

Only, the car was perfectly fine when you met him those weeks ago. He had made the pair of you walk so he’d have more of a chance to speak to you and to touch you. The only way he could follow you around without being suspicious, especially at your dads work, was to have a somewhat reasonable excuse (which resulted in him messing with the engine). He knew although you’d shied away from him that night, he could easily win you back around.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Taehyung. I’m also uh, sorry about how that night ended.”

“Don’t sweat it, I know what I said came off a little... weird but I didn’t mean any harm.”

With an angelic smile on your face in return, Taehyung knew that soon, that smile would morph into a grateful one. After all, he was going to help you.

Until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Live or Die.

Your choice.

He had first seen you out and about last year. However, he had first heard of you when the guys working for him had slammed a file onto his desk, Subject #13 was scrawled on the top. Filled to the brim with pictures of you and everything about your life down to the littlest detail.

L/N Y/N— D.O.B 03.11.02— 19 years old.

Phone number: XXXXX.XXXXX

Female. Lives with parents at: 171 Norm Street, Falfield F91 7DW. Was outcasted at school but befriended a Jeon Jeongguk [19 years, male. 92 Carriers Road, Cressage CY5 3EA. XXXXX.XXXXX].

Ex partner is Kang Jaehyo. [23 years. Male. Abusive and manipulative, laid his hands on Y/N multiple times leaving bruises and scars. Sexual abuse was also discovered. Have been broken up for 4 months. 13 Walkers Drive, Falfield, F73 1DL XXXXX.XXXXX]

Y/N has suicidal ideations (as well as 7 attempts). Self harms by “cutting” “punching” and “scratching”. Diagnosed with Depression and Anxiety Disorder on May 13th 2016. Works at Toret Garage and Letty’s Floral. Both places owned by parents.

The web of lies and deceit had barely scraped the surface.

[prose-for-hire]

Claimed

Part One // Part Two

Pairing: Angel x vamp!reader

Request: as promised I'd like to request a part 3 to So wrong it’s right/Natural attraction

[Desc: Third part. An old friend of Angel’s comes to town and makes him wonder where your affection truly lies]

Requested by: Anon

Warning: Swearing. Implied sex/sex reference. Biting. Blood. A little violence.

You let me handle the plot so, as always, things got carried away. The timeframe moving from the previous part is either a while later or diverges a little from the show depending on where your imagination wants to take you. 🖤💖

You were slumped on the sofa in front of yet another re-run. So, incredibly bored. As if the lack of his presence had made life unbearably boring. When he was around he made you feel alive. Made you excited - as if you wanted to be someone he could hold affection for.

But all of this embarrassing hope had been dashed. You hadn’t seen him in so long, you only had the delicious memories of your last stolen moments with him.

But without him, the colour had been sucked out of the world again. It was so bleak that you were stuck inside moping over him hopelessly. God, when had you gotten this way?

It had been too long. You missed him so badly you ached. Yearned in this guilty way to be even just in his presence. This wasn’t just lust anymore. The excitement of sex or trading blows with him. Somewhere inside you knew that it was all of him that you wanted. Craved.

Mind, body and even that stupid soul of his.

He had crawled into your dead heart. Made a home there. Leaving you suddenly full of life. Wanting to be more. It still irritated you, at how much influence he now held over you. But you couldn’t fight it. Didn’t want to anymore.

But he had been away recently. Dropped you as soon as he heard some Slayer was in trouble. He had been away in some ugly little town called Sunnydale. She needed his help. You soon learned from Angel’s team this Slayer was his ex. 

You dropped in on them every so often now to check in when you were bored and thought you might as well help them save the world or whatever. You were fun to be around, you didn’t hold back and they couldn’t help but like your company. So you stuck around them, enjoying the feeling of having something close to a group of friends. 

It was new to you, but you secretly enjoyed it. You spent a lot of time sharing your knowledge and trying to make their lives easier. Something you wouldn’t have even considered doing. Not before him.

But he had left you sorely lacking ever since he skipped town without so much as a word. You had really hoped that he might tell you himself, not get Wes to pass on some vague message about his ‘weekend plans’. 

The television buzzed soullessly as you stared through it. The only vision you wanted to see being him. And you were just sat there. Not even having the heart (or the attention span) to open a book. All you could think of was him. You were so bored. You were even considering masturbating for the millionth time to distract you from the way you needed him.

You started to move as if to do just that, when there was a massive thud at the door. Someone was knocking pretty urgently.

Shit. Debt collectors. You owed a lot of people a lot of kittens. You muted the tv and stumbled over your feet in the opposite direction from the door. You decided for everyone’s sake it would be better if you disappeared. Pretended not to be in.

You were almost panicking a little, not really sure if you had the mental or physical strength at the moment to take on a fight. So you did something too embarrassing to even describe properly. You rolled under your bed. Hid.

After some more urgent knocking, whoever it was got bored of waiting and just kicked the door in. As you had been expecting. You were hoping whoever it was looking for you was either too stupid to check under the bed for you or thought better of you than to even consider looking there.

The door was broken clean off its hinges. And you stayed still. Hearing two pairs of footprints stomping through your home. You were considering sliding out the window and onto the ledge while they looked around your living room. But then you heard something.

“Y/n?” His voice sounded urgent. Your chest swelled at the sound of his voice. Angel.

You rolled your eyes though. At what you were doing. God this was embarrassing. It was either stay hidden and risk not getting to see him or admit you had just hidden under a bed like some soon-to-be-dead loser in a shitty horror flick.

You decided you would just have to bear it. You rolled from under the best giving him the best scowl you could muster (you couldn’t help smiling a little at seeing him again).

He had the decency not to say anything about you rolling out from under the bed, although he had to hold back a small smile about it. He would tease you later, he was sure. Hopefully if there was a later he thought to himself.

“Funny how a weekend trip can last the full fourteen days now, isn’t it?” You hinted. You had missed him. You wanted him. He had left you longing.

“Look, it’s a Hellmouth stuff happened-”

“Too bloody right-” Someone else spoke up but you cut the stranger off. You hadn’t noticed him at first, your eyes only on Angel.

“Who the fuck is this?”

“Look, he’s-”

“And why the fuck is he just stalking through my house like he owns it?” You snapped, snatching a rare book of yours back from his hands.

The pair shared a look at your outburst as if you were the unreasonable one. You smelled it then. They both had souls. You eyed them both, not sure how you had found yourself the only sane, normal vampire in a thirty-mile radius.

“Name’s Spike” he offered and you squinted, recognising the name.

“Oh. Old flame right? Did you go through every ex’s town on your way back from Sunnydale or just the ones you thought were attractive enough to make me jealous?”

“Spike is not an old-”

“One time! It was one-!”

“Well, that hit a nerve” You muttered, rolling your eyes. Great. You had more competition for Angel’s affection. And God, did you want all of his affection laid on you. You wanted him so badly that it almost made you throb with need just from this brief interaction.

You were just staring now as he spoke. The way his eyes glistened in the dim light. His features chiselled as if made just for you. He made you feel things you weren’t sure you could even name. Some long-forgotten emotion that made your chest swell and your stomach feel like there were baby bats in there.

“I thought you said they were a help. Fat lot of good this one is considering their fourth wank of the day in front of bloody Time Team” You snapped out of your Angel-induced daze to scowl once again at the blonde man and his, unfortunately, accurate depiction of the way you were currently living.

They turned conversation quickly to try to convince you that you were needed. There was yet another plot to take over LA. Someone had informed them on the Hellmouth. To reverse it, they needed three vampires, ones that have enough good in them. No human could stand the pain of it. Angel insisted the third one is you. 

He had faith in you. In some way, it made you fill with pride. But, again, this wasn’t your life. You had never wanted to save the world. He mentioned that there was a ritual you could do to check, to at least prove him right and to begin the reversal of this apocalypse was needed.

“And tell me again why I would want to go through all that pain rather than, say, relocate?” You muttered, already knowing you would agree. For him.

“Y’know... because you’re good now, right?” Even as he said it, Angel knew these were the wrong words to use. You scoffed at him. You had never claimed this. You just liked the company of the team. Enjoyed a good fight. Enjoyed… the proximity with him.

“I’m okay, thanks. Don’t care. Sorry. Don’t let the door hit you on your way out”

“Listen here, pet-” The other vampire appealed to you. Which was also the wrong move.

“Why is this Billy Idol impersonator talking to me? Is it a joke I’m too cool to understand?”

“Oi- look here-”

You didn’t speak this time, you just went to punch the man in the face. But Angel caught you before either of you reacted. Wrapped a strong hand around your wrist. Kept it there.

His grip tightening in a way that made you smirk. You had missed this. God, you had really missed this. He lowered your hand, his still firmly grasping your wrist. And you just stared at him as he did. Hoping he would lean in and catch your lips again. Tear the fabric of the walls apart just with a look.

“Enough” He warned. Touch lingering as his eyes did on your form.

You would let him wreck the house if you thought it meant you could have him pressed against you again even for a second. He was dangerous to you and you loved it. He, on the other hand was still more cautious of the way you navigated your relationship. Of how he showed just what you meant to him.

He thought about you all the time. More so, while he was away. He was addicted to you. The way you moved, spoke. Held yourself. Had such entrenched opinions and he might even deign to say morals (loosely, of course).

He thought more of you than he had ever done before. Dreamt about you. Thought about what you could be doing, wanting to know what you were thinking. What made you tick. He held on to every intimate detail he could discover.

Remembered it in such crystal clarity. Because it was you.

He decided to get you on side, he would appeal to the more logical side of you. Which, surprisingly, worked. He managed to convince you to put your un-life on the line. Because it would help your new sort-of friends. To save Fred and the others, you could try it.

You finally relented. You almost didn’t so soon, hoping that he might descend to fighting you over it. Some contact with your skin. It was needed after so long. You nodded though and they nodded and you started for the door. Stepping over it as you left.

“What a bloody delight” Spike murmured so that you could hear it.

“Can it, Blondie” You hissed as you strode behind them, your usual confidence evident to all around.

Angel side-glanced at you, a small smile tugging at his lips at seeing you again. Even if all of your barbs were being thrown Spike’s way. It was so good to see you.

Angel had never been so sure that he wanted you around. Permanently. He just wasn’t entirely sure how to admit this. To himself or you. You always left him wanting more. That demon part of you matched his. The demons had claimed the other long before either of you had embraced how you felt. 

Neither of you had dared ask the other how they felt. What they wanted from this relationship. It may shatter the illusion you both had. That there could be a future there. That at least some of your eternity could be theirs.

You were staring blankly at a carved tablet, one that Wesley had found in connection with this stupid apocalypse you had been roped into stopping. You weren’t really reading, just skimming it. You’d catch up later, you always did. Right now, you were thinking about Angel. He was all you were ever thinking about at the moment.

“What’s that? Picture book?” A British accent asked. Spike.

“No” you said shortly. God, he was dumber than a bag of rocks. What had Angel ever seen in him? He rubbed you up the wrong way. And not in an exciting way either.

Wesley explained what it was as you had a rant in your head, just staring at the tablet.

“All that eternity and you can’t even read. What exactly do you do?” You couldn’t help it. It slipped out. He was a fly you wanted to swat away. Squish into nothingness. 

You glowered at him, but knew there was some big stupid prophecy so Spike had to stick around. You did what the powers wanted just enough to save your own skin. And, well, if you staked him God forbid, they tried to make you a champion in his place.

Angel frowned at your words. He wanted you to be talking to him. Ragging on him at how he couldn’t read them either. Wanted the charged tension that always stretched between you back. But since he had returned you had appeared more distant. Less smug about the way you rendered him simultaneously infuriated and obsessed with you.

You were laughing with the team when Spike stalked in after calling up his precious Slayer and talking loud enough to wake the dead. Or, at least wake Angel who had been trying to sleep. Instead he had joined you and the rest of the team. Your face had lit up when Angel entered the room but he hadn’t noticed. Or, you thought he hadn’t anyway.

The laughter died when he entered and he scowled. Spike had enough of you. How nobody appeared to accept him but even with your ‘evil’ nature and lack of soul these people embraced you with open arms.

“Why’s every bugger hangin’ on their every word? Hello, I’m the one with the bloody soul here”

“Because nobody likes you Spike” Angel shrugged from the doorway.

“Yeah, because having a soul makes you suddenly likeable and some all-encompassing good right? You’re kidding yourself - choices are what make us not writhing around in the sand with some dumb demon for a couple months”

Everyone had braced themselves, expecting your usual rant about not having a soul not meaning anything. That you could make good decisions. You could do what you wanted and still not be evil. But you had decided to just make a cheap shot.

“Piss off. Like you could stand it anyway”

Angel had been watching with a frown. Didn’t like the way you gave Spike such attention. He thought it was the way you used to give him attention before you began to deepen your relationship. 

He wanted you to be focusing on him. Only him. He missed you. In his bed. The way you looked contorted in pleasure. His.

When he thought about it, truly thought about it, he missed talking to you. The way you could make him laugh. Speak to him the way nobody else could. You embraced every side of him. Even the parts that he struggled to embrace himself.

He found himself almost needing that interaction. Needing you. Desperately. Not just your body but your mind too. All of you in fact. He ached for it, quivered with need. He didn’t care you lacked your soul anymore, he just needed you. Thirsted for every side of you.

You kept glancing at each other. You weren’t his partner but he really wanted you to be. He was finally able to admit it to himself. He just didn’t know how to ask. How to tell you what he wanted. He wanted it just you and him. Not to have to smell any of the particularly nasty lingering scents of lovers you had taken since he had been away.

Angel kept making snide comments about Buffy and Spike at any opportunity. This always made you scowl because he seemed so bothered by them. Spike smirked smugly. Which made you scowl even further. It was mostly to distract himself from his feelings from you. But you didn’t know this. You wanted his mind to be on you again. He hadn’t even pulled you aside during any slow moments like he usually would.

On a particularly boring day, while they were taking a break from the research that was making everyone have a headache (except you and Wesley), talk turned to Spike’s new soul. And why he had fought for one. For this Slayer.

“I think it’s romantic!” Fred cooed as you caught on to what had happened.

“For love? You got a soul for love?! That’s so cute, did it come with a complimentary heart shaped box? A dozen roses?” You cackled and Spike looked like he was about to thump you. Pretty ruthlessly too. But Angel pulled you away before he could. Apparently he was the only one allowed to berate Spike.

He took you by the shoulder and pressed you against the wall in the corridor once you were alone. You smirked, face lighting up expecting his lips on yours. Just like the last time you had been close in this way. But he just half-heartedly chastised you instead.

“Cool it off” he warned. You were disappointed with his tone, you missed the way he would excite you. Mix with anger and passion the way you had missed so badly.

“Why? Because it makes you uncomfortable? It’s foreplay for us. You know it, I know it” You plucked the nerve just to see what would happen. Making his blood boil. You saw it then. That hint of jealousy. This flicker of the demon side of him, he wanted to claim you as his.

“Whatever. Do anything you want after the case, just not here” He consciously tried to even his voice this time, hide the growl. But his chest rumbled dangerously at even the thought of you and Spike. He was clinging to his human form as the demon protested.

This is what made you tug on the nerve, near severing it. You leaned into him, so that your lips brushed his ear. Your tone seductive, one he would usually enjoy.

“Don’t be jealous, baby, I’m very good at sharing myself out. Especially while you were away-”

You were cut off by his hands tightly gripping your shoulders. Even as a vampire, you were sure you would bruise. Your stomach flipped at the fire behind his eyes. The need for you to not stray from him. He slammed you back against the door you had just left out of, near shattering the glass behind you. God, you had missed this. So badly.

You couldn’t help smirking. You were ready to take him right here. Fucking or fighting. Either one would do it for you. So long as you received his full attention. Just you and him.

He had come back so disaffected. His face mostly neutral. You thought he had barely looked at you, let alone touched you. Even in this way. You would take what you could get and savour every second of it.

You didn’t realise just how hard it was for him to be back in Sunnydale or all of the baggage he had left there (some of it that he had had to bring back as well). Dredging up his past had confirmed something to him. That he wanted you with him. Wanted you to be his. He wanted something more than what you were already doing. It scared him. Made him nervous, which is why he had kept a distance from you.

Even though it guilted him that this was selfish and something that would make him happy. Even though you were rough around the edges and morally dubious. Even though you had never expressed softer feelings of your own.

You meant something. Everything. And he couldn’t deny it now. Couldn’t begin to fight it anymore. He didn’t want to.

That was why he didn’t like you interacting with Spike. Because he felt this so strongly. That you belonged with him. Not with anybody else. But you had never labelled your relationship and he didn’t know how to even begin to tell you.

“If you’re not gonna do anything about it, let me go” You warned. Hoping he would do the opposite. He gripped tighter for a moment and you got excited but then he just let you go.

Disappointment washed over you and you frowned. You had so wanted to taste him on your tongue again. To have his body, hot with desire, pounding against yours.

As time went on, Angel began to get more and more jealous watching you and Spike interact. You began to notice it more. The way his furrow deepened whenever you glared holes in the man. Mistaking the interaction for something that excited you.

But he didn’t say anything. Barely looked at you. Which left you so sore. So needy for him.

So, you took it into your own hands. Of course, you didn’t actually speak to him about it. Oh, no. Instead, you dialled it up. Speaking to Spike much more. Making Angel so jealous he would shake. Aiming to make him want you more.

The ritual couldn’t be conducted for a few months yet, just before the steps to the scheduled apocalypse had begun. So there was a lot of waiting around and planning. However, your mind was less on that and more on how to get Angel to touch you again.

You had an idea. You gestured with your head to get the blonde vampire to come over and speak to you. The vampire was hung up on the slayer and you were hung up on Angel so neither of you had any particular interest in the other.

“Look I don’t like you, you don’t like me. But you wanna annoy Angel right?” You offered, giving him a knowing look. You weren’t stupid, Spike had an obvious and complicated past with your- the man.

“I’m listening” He squinted. And you didn’t waste any time, you whispered in his ear your suggestion.

Along with your obvious intelligence, you could be very persuasive. Near manipulative (it was how you had survived this long and gotten yourself out of many, many debts).

So, the next day you swung your plan straight into action. It wasn’t a particularly clever plan. But it was enough for you and Spike to know it could end badly wrong. Like, dust on the floor wrong should Angel be in a particularly bad mood.

You and Spike turned up to the building with his arm slung around your shoulder. You had asked to wear his jacket but he told you to sod off. So, you compromised and had him sling his arm over your shoulder told him to whisper something. Anything. Encouraging him to be as crude as possible. Implying that you had spent the previous night together.

You were speaking to the room but your eyes were on Angel the entire time. Watching the way his thoughts began to spin out of control behind his eyes. He was shaking with anger. Filling with pure jealousy. The way Spike was allowed so close to you. How he pressed against you the way he should be pressed against you. Natural touch that should be his.

He couldn’t just stand there. Watching. He just walked up to you, snatching your hand in his and dragged you from the room. If he didn’t he would have exploded then and there.

“Problem?” You asked, that infuriating tone you always used. He just directed you by the back of your head to move your ear next to his mouth.

“You’re mine” he growled and you couldn’t help the way your stomach flipped in excitement. Made you weak for him. Your eyes lit up. But you wouldn’t let him see you submit that easily.

“Prove it” You challenged. And he did just that. He pulled you into him, crashing his lips to yours. The rough embrace made your heart soar with happiness. He wanted you. He really wanted you.

As you made your way to the bed you stopped in your passion every now and again on the way. Slamming you into the walls, more furniture lost to your desire. You pushed him back onto the bed smirking down at him. He reached for you and pulled you down against him.

Lips crashing. Hands grasping. Skin slapping.

He claimed you as his. The feeling, it was shared. His eyes telling you that he was yours. He clutched you, while you grinded against his body. He made you feel alive. It was primal. This animal attraction never ceased. But this connection was deeper than anything either of you could name.

Your demon forms shifted, facing each other again. As they always did when you were together. They had missed their equal so desperately. You moved with him. As if you were one. He bit down hard, fangs embedded in your neck. You moaned in his ear and it made him bite harder still. 

Your blood tasted so good in his mouth. He hadn’t done this in so long. Hadn’t trusted anyone this way. This bond, it ran deep.

You directed his head further into you as he did this, grasping at the hair on the nape of his neck. It was pure pleasure.  Blood oozed down your chest as his mouth moved from the bite on the side of your neck. He pressed some open-mouthed kisses down your collarbone, following the trail of your blood. He licked slowly up it, catching every drop. His eyes bored into yours. Telling you what you already knew. You were made for him.

He pressed further into you, with a urgency that matched yours. He was finally embracing his demon. The way you had hoped he would for so long. You wanted all of him. To do this, you would have to give all of yourself. So, you did.

You stayed in bed together a lot longer than you usually might. You were just lying in bed together. You were on a slant, the bed had been lost to your passion. Frame splintering and collapsing. He would have to replace it. You were leaning on your side facing him. God, you had missed this. He had left you aching, empty without him.

He hadn’t so much as implied wanting to touch you like this since he had returned from Sunnydale. Just spent his time squabbling with Spike. So, this had been a needed release. Building up over so long.

“I missed this” You admitted, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Yeah?” He asked and you just nodded your reply. He found himself reaching for you, stroking your bare skin. You met his eyes, this tender touch he had never afforded to you before. It was alien but you wanted more of it.

“It was hard. Bein’ back there” He said slowly, referring to Sunnydale, “Seeing them both. Together as well, it hurt. Didn’t know what to do about it”

“Still hung up on them then?” You sighed, looking at a pull in the cotton. Twisting it in your fingers for something to do. Anything to distract from the way you had begun to hurt at the thought of him not feeling the same way as you did.

He shook his head but you didn’t see it. His hand stroking down your arm and resting on your hand. It was the most tender he had ever been. Action a lot subtle that you had ever shared. You found yourself wanting more of it.

“No. ‘Cause when I saw you again I, uh knew… knew that I’d rather be with you than anywhere else” He said slowly. He said it awkwardly, the words strung together as if they didn’t quite fit next to each other. But he meant it. He wasn’t sure if he had ever meant anything as much before in his entire life.

You didn’t know what to say to this so you just nodded. It was the best he could have hoped for. When you weren’t teasing, it was hard to reveal how you felt. You laughed though, mentioning you didn’t even like Spike anyway. You had just wanted him to pay you more attention again.

You then muttered something about not knowing what Angel had ever seen in him. Angel gave you a look but you didn’t get it (he felt that it was because you and Spike were too similar, that’s why you didn’t get on). Thankfully, he liked you a lot better than he liked Spike though.

You smiled at each other, both of you feeling even slightly more secure. You hadn’t been able to admit that you wanted to be exclusive, but you had both now implied it. Which was the best either of you could wish. You found yourself almost wanting to be his, the way he had hissed it in your ear. You couldn’t recall feeling that way before.

There it was again. That feeling that frightened you. Hope. It had crawled into your heart and only spread the longer you spent with him. An ugly thought popped into your head. One that embarrassed you immensely.

As you watched his face turn into that small smile beside you in bed. Understanding stretching between you. A glimmering hope that still frightened you more than anything else ever had. His jealousy still a delicious taste in your mouth. The wreckage of the room surrounded you but the atmosphere was almost... soft.

It was a thought he had already had himself and started to accept. You shuddered as you thought it though. Finding that maybe you truly had found your anti-soulmate. In Angel of all people.

[draco-omega]

An end to History

Well, these last few years sure have been a thing, huh? I know I've not posted anything for a very long time now. Multifarious stresses over the last years led to me withdrawing from most social venues and I haven't really had anything positive to report on my work either. But after all this time, I felt like I wanted to say something to any followers who still remembered having interest in projects I'd previously posted about.

Chronicles of False History - the Touhou strategy RPG that I've been working on in some capacity or another for 4 years - has been on life support for a long time now but circumstances have recently changed such that I think I can officially state that it will not come to pass anymore. Possibly this will be disappointing to someone or other out there, but I'm sure no one is more disappointed by this than myself.

There are a lot of factors that lead to its slow demise, but if I were to summarize in one paragraph: I greatly underestimated the workload involved in making this game, developed significant money problems partway through, started to suffer from burnout, and then a pandemic happened. Deteriorating mental health combined with doubts about the project's long-term viability lead to work growing progressively slower. And to top it all off, my character artist - who was possibly the only thing still keeping me going - has now had to resign for unrelated personal reasons. We parted amicably, but without her, there is no reasonable way the project can be completed. I don't have the money to find someone who can style-match the work that's already been done, and even if I did, I don't think I have sufficient mental health left to coordinate with another freelancer at this point in my life.

I have a lot of gorgeous art thanks to her (only a small bit of which has ever been posted on tumblr), but am still missing sprites for too many plot-critical characters to just write around their absence. Chronicles of False History, as it was once intended, is effectively dead.

...

But I don't want that to be the end of things.

Too much work has gone into this project and there is so much lovely art that deserves a proper home. I've dabbled at a few spin-off projects over the last couple years and I think they have potential - significant backend work on one is already complete, even. But...

The truth of the matter is that I'm a wreck these days. Writing this post has been... difficult. Writing anything these days is difficult. It's like my brain has been pickled in the stress of the last few years such that nothing works properly anymore. My concentration is bad, I'm constantly drowning in doubt, and even when I do manage to accomplish anything, it is at the pace of a depressed snail. I don't know when or even how that's going to get better.

But I'm also tired of waiting and hoping things will improve. So here I am, shouting into the wind, even if it's nerve-wracking. Maybe even because it's nerve-wracking. Because I have second-guessed so many things for so long that I'm just going to ignore the voices saying this is unwise and post it anyway. I mean, if you can't be a depressed neuroatypical transperson on tumblr, then where can you be, hey? :P

Anyway, there's a bunch of CoFH character designs that I never shared because they were plot spoilers. I wanted to keep some cool stuff back for the game's actual release, after all, instead of all the cool surprises being known in advance. But now, if that storyline never gets to exist... maybe I should just share them? And there are other things I can talk about, too, if anyone's interested. A post-mortem of CoFH's development (for instance, its troubled sprite compositing system), a more explicit dive into its storylines... Does it make sense to 'spoil' the plot of something, once it no longer seems like it will ever exist? Who knows. I'll figure it out.

[spencers-renaissance]

Don’t Be Scared, I Love You

Summary: JJ is shot and Emily's world stops spinning

Tags: whump, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, fluff, protective emily, NO mcd

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Jennifer Jareau 

Word Count: 1.7k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Emily has always been skeptical of ‘slow motion’ disaster moments. She’s been an active government agent working in the field for over a decade — that’s to say, she’s witnessed her fair share of tragedy — and it’s never quite that dramatic. But when a bullet from an unsub’s gun embeds itself in JJ’s shoulder, for a split second, Emily is powerless to react.

She’s stuck in time: JJ falls slowly to the ground, her hair spreading behind her in a golden halo, and she barely registers the gunshot coming from Derek’s direction, the kill shot that takes down the man she hates the most in the entire world at this exact moment. Blood pounds in her ears as a sinking feeling of dread pools in her stomach, a cold kind of fear spreading through her body and freezing her joints, her muscles, her mind. There is only a singular thought circling through her head:

I can’t lose her.

It’s only when she hears JJ whimper in pain that she snaps back into action, protective instincts clicking into motion as she throws herself down at her fiance’s side, barely registering the impact the cold concrete has on her knees, only focusing on the beautiful woman fading in front of her eyes. Immediately, she lays her palm on the gunshot wound, applying deep pressure in an attempt to quell the bleeding. It’s the right thing to do, she knows it will save JJ’s life, but continuing feels almost impossible when JJ cries out in pain, her face crumpling.

“Jayje, Jayje, baby,” she says desperately, at a loss for words for a moment, “hold on for me, okay? Hold on. You’re doing so well. Oh, God, I love you so much. Hold on for me.” Vaguely, she hears Derek calling for a medic, but every iota of her attention is on JJ.

Deep blue, disney princess eyes meet hers. This is half a relief — JJ is still conscious, she can hear her, she hasn’t lost too much blood yet — and half a curse — JJ’s eyes have always been expressive. Right now they are conveying the pain of the worst agony one can inflict on another, and they are completely coloured with terror. Terror Emily has no way to diminish, no way to ease. How does one refute possibly the most rational fear there ever was?

She can feel herself crying. She vaguely hears the rest of her team around them, but right now her entire world has shrunk down to this moment, to the woman she’s going to marry next year, to the woman she longs to have children with. This is not altogether uncommon. Emily’s world frequently shrinks down to comprise only JJ: when they’re in bed together, small moments when they catch one another’s eyes across the bullpen or in a meeting, evening walks down the brightly lit streets of the city they love so dearly. It’s never as painful as this.

Derek has taken off his top and is moving Emily’s hand to place the balled material over the wound. He takes over applying pressure; Emily only notices this because it means she can focus the entirety of her attention on JJ’s face and not the profusely bleeding hole in her shoulder. The crimson blood dripping from her palm only serves as a reminder of how close she is to losing the love of her life. To being single again, a widow, a hopelessly miserable, never-to-recover, bereaved shell of a human being.

“Emily,” JJ whispers, and she’s crying, too. Her face is not hiding a single emotion raging through her, and while Emily usually finds JJ’s wobbly chin endearing, right now it’s purely agonising. “Emily, I’m scared.”

Emily has to bow her head for a moment and heave a single, shoulder-wracking sob that seems to tear though her throat with the same violence of the bullet that tore through JJ’s shoulder. She blinks the tears away and sniffs once before looking back up at JJ and offering her a watery smile, the absolute best one she can muster, and uses her clean hand to gently comb her fingers through her blonde hair, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to her forehead.

“Don’t be scared,” she whispers tearfully, brushing her thumb over JJ’s damp cheekbone, “I love you.”

“Don’t leave me,” JJ whispers back, tears still spilling down her cheeks, as they hear the sirens of the ambulance and a medic rushing into the warehouse, the floor of which will forever bear the stain of her fiance’s blood.

“I won’t,” Emily says through sobs she can no longer contain, “I won’t, darling, I’m here.”

“Promise?” JJ asks, visibly fading just as the paramedics arrive and ask Emily and Derek to make room.

“I promise, baby,” Emily cries earnestly, moving away just enough for the EMTs to do their job, just in time for JJ to completely lose consciousness.

⭐️

The hospital waiting room is warm, but Emily feels cold.

She stares blankly at the wall in front of her, a merciful sort of numbness taking over her body, leaving her far less frantic than the emotional wreck she was in the warehouse. It’s a kind of quiet far from peaceful, but she doesn’t have the energy to care. Her hands are so cold covered in JJ’s warm blood.

Spencer desperately tries to get her to come to the bathrooms and wash it off, but Emily refuses, just in case this is the last thing she has to remember JJ by. In which case, she has revolved to forever have a stained right hand as a permanent mark of her crippling grief. She will be branded by her devotion to JJ, and by the end that devotion came to.

Her only thought is of W. H. Auden’s poem Funeral Blues. It was read at her uncle’s funeral a few years ago. What a funny thing grief is: she could grasp the concept of such emptiness and utter misery filling your life after the death of a loved one, of course she could, but she’s never tangibly understood that kind of grief. She does now, and JJ — as far as she knows — is still alive. If she does lose JJ, though, she knows for an absolute fact that her life will forever lack meaning, lack purpose, lack joy.

Pour away the ocean, indeed, she thinks. Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.

Emily knows, academically, theoretically, the damage a bullet can do. The shoulder is a complex weave of nerves, muscles, bones, tendons, and arteries; really, it’s one of the most complicated pieces of human anatomy, so, naturally, a gunshot wound in that particular area is far from desirable.

Spencer tells her as they’re waiting that the amount of blood JJ lost indicates that instead of the bullet hitting the incredibly delicate network of blood vessels, which would have led her to bleed out in minutes, it instead shattered the joint. This is good news and bad news. JJ is still alive. But she will need reconstructive surgery. She may never regain full range of motion. She will need months, maybe years of physio. Emily doesn’t know if this is what she wants to hear or not, but she vaguely appreciates that Spencer is falling back on his academic knowledge of an incredibly emotional situation as a coping mechanism.

Not that anyone really doubted it, but Spencer is proved right by the doctor that comes to greet the family of Jennifer Jareau six and a half hours after they arrived.

“Ms Jareau’s humerus was shattered, and her clavicle and scapula did not get off scot free, either. Luckily, the bullet missed her large axillary vessels, which is the most consolation I can offer you at this stage,” the doctor explains kindly. “We’ve stabilised her condition through surgery in which we did our best to tidy her shoulder, but she will be needing a total shoulder replacement in the very near future. Though, I understand she resides in DC and is in well-enough condition to be transferred there for the major operation and ensuing recovery.

“I understand… Emily Prentiss is her next of kin?” she asks, consulting her clipboard.

Emily nods blankly, the reassurance that JJ is alive beginning to settle in, weaving its way into her heart.

The doctor smiles empathetically. “I can take you to see Ms Jareau now. Her sedation will be wearing off any minute.”

The world gradually stirs back into colour as Emily lays eyes on JJ, very much alive, blinking sleepily in her hospital bed. Her gown is carefully tucked around the bandage on her shoulder and the fabric sling her arm has made its home. She’s ever so pale, sweat beading on her brow from the pain, but she’s alive. Emily will not have to recite Auden in a Church built for a God she doesn’t believe in while the only person that made her believe in anything lies in a coffin. Alright, she thinks as she walks into the room and sits down next to JJ’s bed, the moon can be unpacked. The sun reassembled.

As JJ manages a smile, though, reaching her good arm out for her fiance, craving physical comfort and affection, Emily thinks that the stars don’t need to be relit. The one in front of her, broken as she might be, long as her journey to recovery is certain to take, is bright enough to put all of them to shame.

Emily can’t help but break down in tears of gasping relief as she clasps the hand JJ’s outstretched for her, gripping it tightly and bringing it to her face, kissing it gently before pressing it to her cheek as her crumpled eyes leak pitifully.

“Hey, don’t be scared,” JJ murmurs in her croaky, post-surgery voice as she echoes Emily’s words some seven hours earlier, “I love you.”

Emily can’t help but laugh happily through her relieved, messy emotion at that, leaning forward to press a warm kiss to JJ’s slightly chapped, pale lips.

“God, I love you so much,” she promises, so much sincerity behind her words that JJ tears up in response. “I’m gonna be here through every step of the journey ahead, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know that,” JJ whispers, as her face contorts, emotion twisting her throat in knots. “I never doubted it for a second.”

And, well. Doesn’t that just say everything Emily needs to hear.

Clasp me close in your warm young arms, While the pale stars shine above, And we’ll live our whole young lives away In the joys of a living love.

- I Love You, Ella Wheeler Wilcox

@strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez

[olivemac]

heartbeat | chapter three | b.b.

Summary | When Steve Rogers asks Kate Stark to find the Winter Soldier, she gets too involved.

Notes | Captain America: Civil War re-write, essentially. Starts just after the events of CA: Winter Soldier.

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x fem!oc, Bucky Barnes x Stark!oc

Genre | romance

Rating | explicit

Story Warnings | mild angst, fluff, romance tropes, so many romance tropes, coarse language, alcohol use, canon-typical violence, smut (m/f), oral sex (f&m receiving), 18+ ONLY

Chapter Warnings | all the romance tropes, coarse language, mild alcohol use, smut (m/f), oral sex (f receiving), 18+ ONLY

Citations | Du Maurier, D. (2018). Rebecca. Virago Press.

Things are starting to heat up.

master list | AO3 link

_____

prev chapter

_____

The next morning when Bucky sees Kate, she’s sitting on the front steps of the building feeding scraps of a meat-filled pastry to one of the stray cats that’s always congregating on the block.

“If you keep feeding that thing, it’s going to invite all its friends,” Bucky says by way of greeting.

“Good,” Kate replies, squinting up at him. “Maybe they’ll catch all the mice in the building.”

He chuckles and sits down beside her. She offers him the bag of warm pastries, which he accepts, pulling one out. He's drawn to her, he realizes. He doesn’t quite know why he finds it so easy to be around her, but he likes it.

"Did you just get back from a run?" he asks, looking at her trainers.

"Yeah." She looks at the bundle in his hands. "Bookstore?"

He nods, "They have a fairly decent selection in English."

Kate hums in response and takes a bite of her own pastry. "What are you reading?"

"Rebecca. Daphne de Maurier," he says. He doesn't mention he purchased it because the title made him think of his sister and he was afraid the memory of her name would slip away.

"A classic."

A bit of pastry filling lingers at the edge of her mouth and before he can stop himself, Bucky wipes it away with his gloved thumb. Their eyes meet and Bucky is staring at her like she's a puzzle he's trying to solve.

Kate looks away first, blushing. "Dinner again tonight?" she asks. "I mean...obviously, if you have plans, but...I'm terrible at cooking for one so...." She laughs nervously.

"Okay," he replies, a mirror of the first time she asked. He's still staring at her intently, but it's softer now.

"Okay," she says, her nerves disappearing.

_____

When they finish eating dinner, Kate asks Bucky if he'll read to her. His words have been few and far between, letting her carry their conversations – which she doesn't mind – but she's found she's lured to the deep timbre of his voice.

He hesitates for only a moment before agreeing. He ducks next door to grab his book and when he returns, they settle on her couch – Bucky at one end, Kate at the other.

He starts to read, "'Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.'"

_____

The next few weeks go by much the same. Kate cooks for Bucky and they eat together; they alternate between reading aloud to each other. Kate reads mostly newer releases – contemporary fiction, fantasy, the occasional thriller – while Bucky sticks to the classics, anything released before World War II.

He doesn't always listen when she reads. Sometimes he focuses on the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

"You're staring," she says one night, not looking up from her book.

"Sorry," he replies.

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, leans forward, and wraps one of the curls falling over her shoulder around a gloved finger before pulling away. Then he reaches down and pulls his gloves off slowly, first the right, then the left. He pushes his sleeves up over his forearms. His titanium arm catches the light, and Kate lets out the smallest gasp at the sight. At first, he thinks she's scared, but she sets her book down and takes his metal hand between both of hers, holding it tightly. He leans forward again and lets his bare right hand sink into the curls at the back of her neck. He's still staring at her, his eyes the color of stormy, midnight skies.

Kate thinks he might kiss her, and Bucky is certainly considering it – certainly wants to – but instead he bows his head forward onto her shoulder and breathes in the scent of her skin, his plush lips soft against her neck. They stay like that for some time, just holding each other, until finally, he presses a kiss so delicate behind her ear Kate isn’t sure it was real; he pulls away and stands.

"I should go," he says.

Kate nods, and before she can say anything, he's gone.

_____

Kate lays in bed that night thinking of his arm and what it means that he showed it to her. She's read his file, she knows about the enhancements HYDRA gave him, the torture they put him through. Tears sting the corner of her eyes, and before she can stop herself, she’s crying into her pillow.

Kate falls into a restless sleep, and when she dreams of her parents’ wreck, she sees Bucky standing outside the car.

_____

A few days into December, Tony texts Kate to ask how things are going, which is code for: You haven't been kidnapped, have you? Because that would be very inconvenient for me, but I'll put on the suit and come find you if I need to.

She’s blocked Tony from tracking her, but she knows he could if he really wanted to. He doesn’t.

She sends him two selfies. In the first, she's giving a thumbs up – the background discreet enough to be anywhere in Europe. In the second, she's wearing sunglasses and sipping coffee.

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Tony texts back, and Kate rolls her eyes before tucking her phone into her coat pocket.

She’s thinking about heading back to her flat, curling up with a book or writing some new code to impress Tony with when she finally goes back to New York. But the park is quiet, and she likes the sting of the cold wind on her cheeks.

Bucky finds her there a short time later.

"What are you doing?" he asks, sitting on the bench beside her.

“Enjoying the cold,” she says.

Bucky grunts. He’s always hated winter, hated the cold. The cold meant Steve would be sick – his asthma or some other ailment bothering him – and Bucky would be without his best friend for months. Then Bucky was on ice for so long, stuck in the cold of cryo. No, the cold isn’t for him, he thinks.

But he likes the way Kate looks, bundled up in her coat and scarf and hat. Her nose is a pretty shade of red that reminds him of the color it turns when she drinks too much wine. And he loves wine-drunk Kate almost as much as he hates the cold. That Kate laughs loudly and uses any excuse touch him – a hand on his shoulder or a brief touch of his bicep. Bucky didn’t realize how much he missed being touched until the night she slipped his titanium hand into her own.

Bucky's been preparing himself for Kate to leave Bucharest at the end of December for the holidays and never return. He always had the feeling she never intended to stay in the country long, thinking maybe she was here to escape an ex-boyfriend or irritate her older brother. He knows she has enough money to do something like that, though they never speak about it.

“I saw a flyer outside our building for a Christmas market at the end of the month,” she says after a while. “We should go. I’m in the mood for mulled wine.”

“You aren’t spending Christmas with your brother?” he asks, turning his head to look at her.

"No," she says, "Christmas isn't really...our thing." She pauses before continuing, "Our parents died in mid-December so Tony either completely ignores the holiday or goes way overboard to compensate. I prefer the former."

Kate takes Bucky’s gloved left hand in hers and presses her bare fingers against the metal of his wrist where his glove meets the sleeve of his coat. She never asks about his arm, and Bucky is grateful for that. He isn't sure how he would explain it.

“Aren’t your hands cold?” he asks, frowning. “Where are your gloves?”

“I must have forgotten them,” she shrugs.

“It’s cold, let’s go home,” he says, and a spark of heat catches in Kate’s belly at the idea that he thinks of their little apartments, where they’ve spent so much time together over the past few weeks, as home.

“Okay,” she says.

“Okay,” he smiles in return.

_____

The Christmas market isn't as busy as he thought it would be, which Bucky is grateful for. He pulls his baseball cap low over his eyes and watches Kate look over a table of wood-carved ornaments. She returns to him empty-handed, and he passes her the thermos of mulled wine they've been sharing.

There's Christmas music pumping through speakers somewhere and a band setting up in a tent. They wander the market slowly, passing the thermos back and forth until it's empty. Kate's nose is red again – from the cold and the wine – and Bucky can't stop staring at her.

They've stopped to look at a Christmas tree in the center of the market when a group of kids – shouting and laughing – come careening down the walkway. Bucky pulls Kate against his chest to keep her from getting run over. He holds her close for a few moments longer than is necessary before dropping his arm from around her back.

“Mistletoe,” Kate whispers, her head titled upward, and Bucky looks up.

He remembers this somehow, remembers his mother hanging mistletoe in the doorway to their living room each Christmas so she could catch his father in a kiss. Remembers getting caught beneath it himself with his younger sister, bending down to smack a wet kiss to her cheek as she squealed.

When he looks back at Kate, she’s holding his elbow and gazing at him like he hung the damn moon, which makes a fire curl low in his belly. Before he can second guess himself, he’s leaning toward her, capturing her lips with his own, and suddenly, it’s like fireworks are exploding behind his eyes. His gloved hands reach up to cup her face and hers tangle into the knot of his scarf, pulling him impossibly closer. When they break apart, something unspoken passes between them.

He guides her back through the market toward their building, inside and up the endless series of stairs. Outside her door, he kisses her again, sweeping his tongue into her mouth. She tastes like the mulled wine they shared, and Bucky thinks he could get drunk on this alone. She pushes him away, laughing, to unlock the door, then pulls him inside with her.

When the door is closed, he turns her and presses her back against it. She reaches up to push his hat off, then pulls off her own and tosses it aside. Next, she's pulling off her gloves and then reaching for his.

"I want to feel you," she breathes, tugging at the leather around his hands, “all of you.”

When his gloves are off, his hands find her face, cupping her cheeks gently. “I haven’t done this in so long,” he rasps.

“We can slow down.”

“No,” he growls, pushing his hips against hers. He’s hard against her lower stomach, and she moans.

Kissing her, holding her like this – Bucky hasn't felt this much like himself since the war. And he can't get enough of it. He tugs at her scarf, unwrapping her like a present, while she unknots his, and they both shrug out of their coats. His bare hands slide beneath her sweater, up over her stomach to her breasts. Kate sighs at the contrast between flesh and metal on her skin. He leans back and tugs her sweater over her head, and she unhooks her bra, letting it slip down and off.

Bucky lifts her into his arms, and Kate wraps her legs around his waist. His mouth is hot against hers as he walks her to her bed. When he lays her down, he lets his lips trail down her neck, across her collarbone, and to her chest.

He pulls back slightly, beaming down at her, “God, you’re beautiful, doll.”

She reaches for the hem of his red Henley, but he stops her, covering her hand with his.

“My arm,” he says, nodding toward his left shoulder, “it’s not pretty.”

Kate doesn’t say anything, just pushes gently on Bucky’s shoulders until he’s lying flat on his back with her straddling his hips. She kisses him hard, stroking her tongue inside his mouth. With one kiss, she tries to convey how much she doesn’t care about what his arm looks like so long as he keeps touching her, keeps smiling at her, keeps letting her be part of his life.

Bucky reaches for the hem of his shirt.

“You don’t have to,” Kate says breathlessly, pulling back to look him in the eyes.

“I want to,” he says, licking his lips. “You said you wanted to feel all of me."

She smiles and lets him sit up. Bucky tugs the shirt over his head and tosses it off the bed. Kate's eyes linger briefly on the angry scars where flesh meets metal, then she bends and presses her lips there. Bucky growls and grabs her by the hips, flipping her so that's he hovering over her again.

His mouth finds her breasts, working a nipple with his tongue until she’s panting. He kisses his way down her stomach to the waistband of her jeans; he pops the button and pulls the zipper down.

"Can I taste you?" Bucky asks.

“Please,” she mewls and helps him push her jeans and underwear off.

His mouth is hot against her. He takes his time, running his tongue across her folds before pressing against the spot that makes her keen and slipping his fingers inside of her. His metal arm holds her hips in place when she comes, keeping her from moving away from him. Bucky could stay in this moment forever, he thinks, here, with his head between Kate's legs, listening to the soft sounds of her bliss, her heartbeat slowing as she comes back down.

But Kate has other ideas. She tugs at Bucky's long hair, pulling him back up to her mouth, tasting herself on his lips. Her hands work his jeans open, and she pushes them off his hips, letting her fingers glide across his buttocks slowly. Bucky groans.

"Are you sure?" he asks, pushing her hair out of her face.

"Yes," she says, and she leans up to kiss him deeply as she reaches down to stroke him.

"Do you..." he pauses, panting, "fuck, do you have a condom?"

"I have an implant. And I'm clean," she says, her eyes meeting his.

Bucky nods and tries to tell himself to remember to ask her what exactly an implant is later, but for now, he's too enraptured with the feeling of her hand around him to argue.

When he pushes inside of her, Kate gasps and moans and Bucky thinks he might actually die. It's been so long since he's felt pleasure like this, and he's lost in the wet, tight heat that is Kate. His head falls to her shoulder and he stills, allowing himself a moment to just enjoy this intimacy.

Kate runs her hands up and down his back. "Please move," she finally whispers in his ear, and Bucky lets out a strangled laugh.

He's a goner, he thinks, as he moves against her. Despite his past, despite his uncertain future, he loves her, and there is no turning back. He props himself up on his left arm and looks down at her.

"You're perfect," he says, and it's Kate's turn to laugh. Her laugh fades into a gasp as Bucky reaches between them and presses his fingers against her in a rhythm he's already memorized.

When she comes around him, clutching him tighter than he thought possible, he sees stars. He follows quickly behind, collapsing on top of her, and as he lays there, panting, and careful to hold his weight off her, Bucky has the sudden urge to laugh at how blissful he feels. When he eventually lifts his head from her shoulder and meets her eyes, Kate is smiling.

"Hi," she whispers, softly.

"Hi," Bucky returns, smiling along with her.

He rolls onto his back, tucks Kate against his side – his flesh arm solid against her back and waist – and falls into a dreamless sleep.

_____

next chapter

[lumos-solemn]

Trials Of Life

Summary : When Hermione found it difficult to tell something to Ron, She didn't know whom she should confide in until her other best mate shows up. Harmione Brotp

**********************************************

The pile of files were getting stacked itself on one side. The broken Tea Cups were mending itself on the other. Harry stood behind his desk looking at the retarding figure of one of the criminals with 3 Aurors beside trying to hold him back from destroying everything. Last night, The team managed to catch some snatchers who proved to be mentally unstable and almost wrecked his office when they got them to Harry.

After being Promoted a month before, Both him and Ron no longer have to take part in every missions directly instead they just have to keep an eye on the things and their direct presence is only needed in high profile cases. Though Harry loved what he did before, He couldn't be more thankful to not go for missions by himself. A few years back, He would have argued with the head if they asked him to not go for missions by himself but now, with a family growing and the thought of his son's toothy smile whenever he comes back home from work stopped him from getting into danger.

With James born, Harry now understood what it meant to be a family. A few years back, He was ready to give his life just like that if it meant the safety of others but now, even the mere thought of having to leave his wife and son itself killed him and everytime he went on missions, there was this thick feeling of fear in his heart that he might not be able to come back home the next time.

As he put on his coat and pocketed his wand, ready to leave home, One of the Aurors came back in. "Mr Potter, These are the files Mr Weasley asked for. But he's not in his office."

"It's okay. Give that to me. Ron went early today. I will give him!", With that Harry took the package from him and walked out of his office closing the door behind. Ron left early today, deciding to help George in his shop for a while before going home. Harry couldn't help but admire how his best mate matured over the years. It was not like he was immature before, when thinking, it was always Ron who was the sensible one in their group having more knowledge about the Wizarding world than him and Hermione. Though Hermione was the brain, The invisible force that always kept them together was Ron. He knew how to ease a situation even when things are going bad outside. And Harry learnt this in the hard way when Ron left because of the Horcrux back when they were on the run. Those are the days he didn't like to recall, but all the same time, never really able to forget.

After the war, when everyone tried to restore their lives back to normal, It was Ron who made sure everyone is okay. He spent nights trying to calm Molly. He made sure that Ginny's okay cause he knew no matter how tough Ginny shows herself to be, deep inside she is his little sister. He looked out for him and Hermione and made sure that they are not left out. He spent time with George trying to bring him back. Overall, He was there for everyone, making sure everyone has his shoulder to cry on and share things. Harry couldn't be more proud of his best mate.

With thoughts rounding in his head, He headed towards Hermione's Office to get her so that they can go back together. It was something that they did on a daily basis. The three of them always come and leave together. Ron and Harry always finishes soon and together they goes to Hermione knowing her that if given a chance, she would spent her whole day in her office not caring about anything else.

Harry opened the door to get in but stopped in his tracks seeing Hermione. Surprisingly, Hermione didn't have her nose in any books or files today, instead her eyes were darted towards some open space looking lost in thoughts. She didn't even notice Harry as he approached her and stood beside her table.

Harry made some noise and she jerked her head towards him as if being woken up from a dream.

"Hermione?", He raised his eyebrows before taking the seat before her.

"Harry..!! When did you come? Where's Ron?", She asked.

Harry looked bewildered, "Ron left early today. Didn't he inform you? He said he did!"

Hermione blinked for a second and then as if coming back to senses, "Oh Yeah! He did! He sent me a Patronus. I forgot!!", She spoke.

Harry didn't understand what was going on. "Hermione, Are you Okay? Did you two have any fight or anything?",

Hermione looked at him surprised for once but then composed herself, "No..No..!!I am okay! Its alright! Everything's alright! It has to be!", She spoke more to herself and Harry was sure there was something off with her. Ron looked alright in the morning and he was cheerful even when he left.

Harry looked at her and noticed she was gazing down at her lap as if not daring to look at him. He was worried. He has never seen Hermione in such a state, lost of words and not daring to look into the eye. Not even when there was a battle going on and they were all in a Do or Die situation. This Hermione made him feel sick in the pit of his stomach. He knew how much he and Ron leaned on her. She was like a support to both of them but in two different ways.

Harry stood up and moved around the table to reach her. He conjured a Chair and sat on it near her. "Hermione? Is everything alright? Don't lie! What happened?", He asked as softly as possible. Handling such situations was never his thing but having a Family and handling Ginny during her Pregnancy did teach him things.

And suddenly he was taken aback as Hermione threw her hands around him hugging him like never. Harry was shocked but hugged her back patting her. He heard sobs and he felt her breathing becoming uneven as he felt the top of his coat getting wet. Worried, He pulled himself away and looked at her. Her eyes were red and puffy and her hair was disheveled. She was biting her lips trying to control the sob that was escaping. Harry has seen her like this only once, during their run when Ron left but even then, It wasn't this bad.

"Hermione? What happened? Why are you crying?", He asked holding her hands.

"Oh Harry..!! I..-", She was sobbing so hard that Harry put his arms around her and hugged her hoping it would calm her a bit.

After a while, when he felt her calming a little bit, He pulled away and looked at her as if hoping her to speak up.

Hermione took a deep breath trying to calm her nerves before speaking, "Ha- Harry! You know..We, Me and Ron..have been trying to conceive for a while!", She spoke with difficulty and Harry nodded. He knew it. Ron once told him about it saying after seeing Ginny with her big bump, he kind of started imagining Hermione like that and all. And Harry knew if anyone deserves more happiness than all, Its his two best mates.

"Well..!!Its...Its been a while! And..we- we were not able to!", Hermione continued and as she did, Harry kind of realized what is coming next and he prayed hard to not think of that possiblity.

"So..I went to St Mungos today! And..and-", The cry that she has been controlling till now broke off and she buried her face in her hands. Harry felt his heart paining itself. He can never imagine them going through such a phase, not after what they had to go through all those times and looking at the way Ron looked after all his nephews, this will be his worst nightmare.

Harry moved forward and hugged her, "Wh- What did they say?", He asked.

"They said..There's only a 10 percent chance! It's one of the after effects of the Cruciatus Curse.", Hermione said pulling away from him and gazing at her lap.

Harry didn't know what to say and he felt guilty thinking how different it would have been for them if he never became their friend. They would have been better. But at the same time, the thought of spenting his Hogwarts life without them seemed more painful.

"No Harry! Don't blame yourself. It is never your fault!", She spoke as if reading his mind like she always does and her voice was stern like before, for a second forgetting the situation.

Harry looked at her, "There's still 10 percent chance Hermione! Don't worry..!", He spoke and Hermione slowly nodded, her eyes filling back.

"I know how much it means to Ron! He never tells anyone about it but I can see it. The way he looks at you with James and the way he plays with them. I know it. And..-", she swallowed a sob. "And I can't even give him that!"

"Don't say that Hermione! We still have chance. Don't lose hope. We got through even more disastrous situations. Didn't we? We'll get through this too! And there's more technology in the Muggle world, Right? Everything will be fine.", Harry patted her back as she nodded and he leaned in placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Do you want to go home now or just sit here for a while more?", He asked.

She thought for a while and then taking a deep breath, she said, "No! Let's go. I have to talk to Ron!", She gulped.

"Hey!! Its alright. Ron'll understand!"

"I know!", She whispered.

Harry nodded. Hermione stood up and with a wave of her wand, she stacked the files and also arranged her hair before walking around to stand beside Harry. Harry also stood up and put the chair he conjured back into its place.

"Thank You Harry!", Hermione muttered looking at Harry with a pale smile which he reciprocated. Hermione put her arms around his and they disapparated.

[emilycollins00]

I read the Omi fic you wrote and I absolutely adore it!! The longing and Omi just saying that he wants to fall difkskcna I am weak ❤️❤️ if you’re still doing requests, could you do one where you get caught in the rain with Itaru and/or Omi? And he just realized his feelings for you? Maybe even telling you if he was feeling brave enough? 👀❤️

Really? Thank you so much! 💕 Aaah I actually enjoyed writing that one! It was supposed to have been a fluffy one but the more I wrote the more I wanted to end in a bittersweet ending. 

For your request, dear, I decided to do both because we deserve it, don’t we?  💕 Really hope you all like it. Enjoy!

Omi and Itaru caught in the rain with reader and confessing

-

Omi

You hadn’t expected rain

Just like destiny likes to play, even though Omi had, he ended up next to you

You two talk for a bit

Omi doesn’t look like it but is SO nervous

He had resolved to tell you his feelings about you

Maybe this was his chance?

You two share a moment

He’s so enchanted with you he can’t help it

Insert cute kiss scene

You cursed as you looked around you.

Opposite to what you had expected when you woke up, it felt like the sky was not in the mood and had decided to let everything go. You had barely had time to run to a near gazebo and you were pretty much drenched.

Pulling out your phone, you texted your family, telling them you would arrive late from university. Just as you were considering running to buy an umbrella, a gentle but strong voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Y/N?”

“Omi?”

He smiled warmly as he left his bag on the floor “Didn’t think I will meet you in this weather, you left class earlier than me”

Omi was a colleague from university, so it was more than likely that the rain had also shocked him “Still got caught up in the rain. Should have check the forecast before going out without an umbrella”

He laughed as he stood next to you, shirt stuck to his skin, making you avert your eyes embarrassed “It’s too windy, not sure if it would have helped you” Omi looked down at his own broken umbrella.

“Yikes”

Knowing it would probably take a while for the rain to slow down, you both started talking about your failed plans for the day. Some light conversation. You were pretty good friends.

…Maybe that’s why no one would have guessed Omi was feeling a wrecked mess as he explained to you the way Mankai’s laundry worked on raining days.

For someone as attentive towards others as he was, people tended to mark him as dense he when regarding his own feelings.

And maybe they had been right. Until now, he had always felt at ease with you, and tended to text and call you to get together after university or rehearsals, but he only realized how ridiculously strong his non-platonic feelings were for you when the dorm called out for it a few days ago.

“You leaving, Omi?” before the young man could answer to Izumi, Taichi shouted from the couches something about being lucky to go on dates. He chuckled.

“I’m just meeting with Y/N”

Yuki rolled his eyes next to the red-head “It’s the same thing, you guys are practically a couple at this point”

“Uh?”

“Good for you, Omi-san! I also want someone as nice as Y/N someday…!”

“Ey, don’t stop sewing”

“S-sorry, Yuki-chan!”

After thinking deeply about it, the realization hit him like a punch in the face, overwhelming how strong he actually felt. Omi didn’t remember the last time he had tried to grow as close to someone as he had been trying with you.

Whenever you smiled, whenever you giggled, he felt the luckiest person for being able to share those moments with you “This is kind of nice” Omi couldn’t help but enjoy the coincidence of being with you more time than he had expected that day. He heard you laughing softly.

“You like being stuck in the rain? That’s so like you”

He blushed lightly, scratching his neck. He hoped his nerves weren’t showing too much “You could say that. Rain also has its charm”

“I guess you’re right” you breathed into your hands, trying to warm them up. Seasons were in process of changing and temperatures had been dropping last few days.

“Ah, here”

Before you could react, Omi had given you his right glove. You turned to look confusedly at him; all he did was smile kindly back at you “You are cold, right?”

Shyly, you did as told and wore it. Opening your mouth to thank him, you didn’t expect his next movement to be him taking your left naked hand into his. Your blood rose to your cheeks. You couldn’t help but look away self-consciously. Was this normal for him?

No, it wasn’t. Had you looked at him, you would have gaped at the gleam and longing in his caramel eyes directed to you. Instead, you gazed off into the distance after a few seconds, enjoying the sound of rain with a small smile.

“It is kind of nice”

Omi’s heart squeezed at your statement. He noticed how small your hands were now that your palms were pressed into his. Omi took a breath, showering you again with the gentlest eyes you had seen.

“I like you, Y/N”

And Omi’s heart almost stopped when he felt you squeezing his hand. As you looked up at him with such an inviting warmth. You did not move and so, he drew closer, you both shivering, not because of the cold this time.

The kiss had been red, blazing fire, yet gentle, like the rain surrounding you  

After it, you parted, keeping mere inches away from one another, staring into each other’s eyes. When a sudden thunder caused you both to jumped and therefore breaking the contact, you laughed at the timing.

“I like you too, Omi”

Looks like rain really had its own way of helping create new starts.

-

Itaru

It wasn’t the first place you had expected to be in the morning

Being in the middle of the rain

If only you hadn’t taken the phone

Itaru knows that

He’s still struggling to make his move

But you two are alone

And words somehow come out weird

Not his fault, he had never been one to do romantic confessions

Thank good you help him on the way

“You just had to ask me to accompany you to buy a new game” you grumbled while squeezing the water out of your shirt.

The air was already humid, and you tried to embrace yourself as you glanced at your companion. Itaru frowned and shook his head, spraying droplets of water at you.

You were in bed when you got a call from him, telling you to go with him to buy the new console that came out that day. You found it weird, but living around the district, you shrugged and decided to do it.

He had been so busy with rehearsals you two had barely seen each other anyway

You glanced around, admiring how much rain had appeared out of nowhere. The weather cast hadn’t said anything about it “When do you think it will stop pouring?”

“Hopefully soon, I want to get back home”

“We could always make a run for it”

Itaru watched you as if you had grown another head “Y/N, I am not taking chances on getting wet the new console. Do you know how valuable this is?” he caressed the object, paying no attention at your judging looks

“You are such a pain, Itaru”

Quietly, you unconsciously started getting close to him, probably in need of warmth. Itaru noticed it and stood straighter. No one said a word for a while, until the blond glanced at you  

“…Didn’t think you would show up”

“Why?”

“Who in their right mind would be up at this time? Well, except for Tasuku who is probably training in this weather…scary”

“Itaru, you called me”

“And you responded and came so, who’s the weird one?”

He was trying to be subtle, but you saw how his words lacked his usual playfulness. You stopped leaning on him and placed your back on the walls of the shop. You didn’t respond, watching as he read the back of the game, humming  “What’s wrong, Itaru?”

He didn’t lift his head “I’m just pissed for not bringing an umbrella so I can go back home and play? We already talked about that”

“…It’s that it?”

At the sound of your concerned voice, he lifted his head and gave you a small smirk that didn’t reach his eyes

If Itaru were to say, he had never really been bothered about love and relationships before he finally noticed his growing crush on you. Which had been the worst at the time, honestly.

You were a good friend, why try to change your relationship?

However, he couldn’t help but want to be something more. If only he was good at handling emotions, it would have been great.

How did people find the courage to confess? One thing was otome games, but real-life confrontation was something he didn’t think he would have to do. He had always been at the receiving end of a confession.

Therefore, he wasn’t sure how to start “Guess I also felt like meeting with you” Turning his head slightly “I have missed seeing that face of yours lately”

You couldn’t help but blink, not knowing where those words came from, heartbeat speeding up “That almost looked like a confession”

“…”

“Are you blushing?”

“No”

“You are. Wait, were you serious just now?”

You froze. He saw you processing everything and sighed “You don’t have to say anything, you know, I just needed to say it or I might lose it. Confessing is not for me”

The way he expressed his real feeling made you laugh, breaking the first stupor. Smiling, you bumped your shoulders with his “Then… I appreciate the effort, might take you up on that confession even”

Itaru laughed “Might?”

You smiled back, your faces getting closer and closer. Itaru leaned down, slowly, as if waiting for your rejection, before finally pressing his lips to yours

It hadn’t been a bad idea to get stuck in the rain after all

________________________________________________________

Hope you guys liked it too, have a wonderful day! 💕

[imnotwolverine]

Nerdflirt

Henry Cavill x reader twoshot (1/2)

Word count: 2.768

Disclaimer: tiny, tiny hint of fluff

Summary: There’s apparently a bit more involved than just paint and innocent flirting, when you meet a stranger on Instagram with a shared hobby. 

Find the second part here.

This story is based on a prompt I received from @aestheticqueenb

(Link to my Masterlist)

‘Maybe, you can like…I don’t know…find some new hobby or something?’

Your friend had said it more as an after thought during your Zoom chat, but here you were. Thinking yet again if she was perhaps right. A new hobby. It’s not like you hadn’t tried to find some diversion in these strange times. Like. You had ordered some of these picture paint books for adults since they were all the rage, but you had grown bored of them again.

Heck. You had even asked your boss if you could help him out while stuck at home. But apparently the restaurant business was really on its ass and you’d just have to wait for things to settle down and regulations to become less restricting.

This whole COVID-19 thing had initially seemed like a bit of a fad. Like some sick joke that nobody stopped at the right time. It was just a fever, right? Well, apparently…it wasn’t. You could still remember the moment all too well when you were sent home, told to wait for news. Hours passed. Days passed. Weeks passed. But there was no sign of things soon to improve.

And thus you resorted to adult colouring books and sulking away on your desk chair.

Stretching out you pushed the chair away from your desk, the tiny wheels immediately halting as you bumped against your bed. Oh yes, it was also good to mention you were slowly losing your mind because your studio apartment was SOO friggin’ small you couldn’t stretch as much as a foot without bumping into a piece of furniture.

Not a problem when you have a social life. But very much a problem when you hadn’t. Usually you worked a lot, went out with friends, enjoyed to go for a run. And home? Home was just a conveniently placed bed in the middle of London.

Now, however, it was a constricting prison that seemed to strip away your sanity piece by piece.

As had become second nature by now you opened your phone, fingers automatically refreshing the front news page. Scroll, scroll, scroll. No new news. Then your e-mail. No new e-mails. Then perhaps look for some “inspiration” - whatever you needed that for - on Pinterest? Scroll, scroll, scroll. Okay, no, this is dumb. Going back to the mainscreen your thumb hovered over the Instagram button. 

You honestly didn’t like the app much. Fake people. Fake fun lives. It just wasn’t your cuppa tea. And yet you never got so far as deleting it since you did enjoy seeing baby pictures of your baby niece.

Okay, fine, maybe there were some new pictures or something. It wasn’t like you had anything better to do and so you opened the app, only to be confronted with a somewhat confusing image. What’s this? A large pair of hands painting an absolutely tiny polystyrene figurine. Why is this on your timeline? Your eyes gazed up, even more confused when you read the name “Henry Cavill” above it. Pfft. Probably some attention whoring from another bored superstar. You shook your head and scrolled on, eventually giving up again.

You groaned, feeling the abyss of utter boredom suck you in once more, your eyes wandering to the world outside. It was sunny, a spotless blue sky, not a cloud in sight. Hilarious, ain’t it? It’s nice weather out in the UK and guess what? You’re stuck inside because the whole world is in lockdown.

So…now what? You just had lunch, your apartment was pristinely clean and you already went for a run this morning. You sighed and turned your chair back so you could awaken your trusty old friend again. Your laptop. Perhaps Google something random? See what you find? The internet’s your friend, right?

Open. Google. 

You bit your lip, thinking of something. Anything. But your mind was a blank.

Hmm. Oh. You know what. Maybe it’d be fun to know what kind of fake nerd Henry Cavill actually was.

You opened Instagram again and, of course, his post was back on the top of the timeline. It was almost too easy. #GamesWorkshop #ProperGeek #Custodes. Hmm, probably one of those three tags were the secret. You decided to enter “custodes”, since it sounded the least familiar and hit enter.

Before long you had dived head first into the miraculous world of Warhammer miniature strategy boardgaming and the most ludicrous, but fascinating lore. There was a medieval variant, a sci-fi variant and some ancient Rome and English civil war stuff. All including a well-thought out background story and even more figurines then you could count. Pretty cool figures too, you thought, haphazardly clicking on “order” while scrolling through one of the webshops.

Like it contained some kind of bomb, the mailman sprinted off, leaving the small package behind while you opened your door. Fuck this corona crisis. You couldn’t even..greet the fucking mailman.

Picking up the package you carefully moved it to your desk. Would they be fragile? How tiny could tiny really be? There was only one way to find out, you decided, picking up a pair of scissors and cutting open the small brown box.

Well. Okay. That’s tiny. Tiny tiny tiny. Perhaps you had been a bit too over enthusiastic about just randomly picking up a new hobby. Like..did you even need like special paint for this? Carefully you placed the kit sheets with the hundreds of tiny pieces in them on your desk and bit your lip, deciding what you’d do next. Tiny heads, guns, wings, all stuck in a meticulously thought out grid. Where to start? Perhaps look for some inspiration? Tips and tricks?

The internet is your friend.

Silly as it was you ended up scrolling through Instagram again, this time on the profile of some “SirEltharin” who posted daily updates on his miniature painting. And just like you, he had bought the Retributor Squad from the Adepta Sororitas, the all-female fighter division that were also known as “The Sisters of Battle”. Just thinking how ridiculous that sounded made you chuckle. Were you a nerd too now? Perhaps.

He just posted something new you noticed.

‘These ladies are hard to tame! Oops, painting accident..’ He posted, along with a picture of some smudged paint on one of the figurines. You chuckled, commenting without much of a second thought.

LadyGrim - ‘Well at least you started..I just can’t get myself to paint :X’ - 1 minute ago SirEltharin - ‘No need to be Grim, good Lady. What’s keeping you from starting?’ - 2 seconds ago

Hmm. He responded immediately. A smile reached the corners of your lips as you shrugged and typed again.

LadyGrim - ‘Painters limbo? No honestly it’s my first set and I’m out of my depth here.’ - 2 minutes ago

SirEltharin - ‘Well if large male hands can do it. Surely a Lady can do it too? ;)’ - 30 seconds ago

LadyGrim - ‘Size can be deceiving.’ - 2 seconds ago

Your eyes rested on the screen for a bit, hoping he’d respond, but eventually giving up. Your eyes turned towards the sheets with the figurine parts on the other side of your desk.

Welp, it’s not like anyone could judge you for trying, right?

You painted that whole day, finding it nerve wrecking and meditative all at the same time. You hadn’t even noticed that it was past dinner time, until your stomach really started to growl with hunger.

After cooking yourself a simple pasta dish you sat back on your desk chair, forking the pasta into your mouth while opening your phone to check on any news updates. No news. Mail. No mail. Pinterest? Skip. Instagram. Heck, why not.

*New message from SirEltharin* Hmm. A private message. You didn’t even know that you could send private messages in Instagram, but alas, perhaps you were just a failed millennial.

SirEltharin - ‘Hey :) Guess what? I totally screwed up that figurine and have to do it all over again. Started any painting yet?’ - 2 hours ago

LadyGrim - ‘Perhaps you gave me all your good luck? Just started and..maybe..it actually starts to look pretty cool?’ - 2 minutes ago

SirEltharin - ‘Which one did you start with?’ - 2 seconds ago

Damn, guess it wasn’t just you who was bored to bits. This guy was one fast responder.

LadyGrim - ‘The one with the book? At least, I think…. So many parts..’

SirEltharin - ‘Yea. Requires a bit of strategising hehe. Besides..holy fervour and good faith!’

LadyGrim - ‘So why did you chose the sisters? You’re a guy right?’

SirEltharin - ‘And that’s a problem? ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘No..’

SirEltharin - ‘Honestly though. They’re cool. Strong women.’

LadyGrim - ‘Who got betrayed by the man they promised to serve.’

SirEltharin - ‘Ah you read the lore? Yea..men are dicks haha ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘Can’t agree more.’

You back and forthed throughout the evening. Starting off with some Warhammer 40k related banter, but soon drifting off to talking about the Corona lockdown and the boredom that came with it. SirEltharin didn’t let off a whole lot about himself, which made your imagination run a little wild.

Perhaps it was this “milady” type of guy, that’d tip his hat at you, then grow annoyed as soon as you didn’t immediately fall in love with him. Or, maybe it was this skinny pimple-faced guy who only ever played female characters in games. Or a really, really fat guy. He did say large male hands. Large…could be fat? Or at least chubby? Ugh. What did it matter anyways. Men, you had decided, were always going to disappoint.

SirEltharin - ‘Hey, just curious by the way. Why did YOU decide to start painting?’

LadyGrim - ‘Are you asking just because I’m a girl? ;)’

SirEltharin - ‘Hardly. What do you even think of me?! ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘Okay. Don’t call me an idiot. But this movie star, Henry Cavill? He posted an image and though I absolutely think he’s one of those fake nerd celebrities who are in it for the attention, it did get me interested in the figurines..so..I just ordered and..here I am!’

He stopped responding after that. For the rest of the night. Did you say something wrong or did he just not see your message? Ah..whatever. It didn’t really matter. He was just some stranger on the internet. You started Netflix and crawled onto your bed, wasting away another evening bingewatching How I Met Your Mother.  

The next morning he had responded again. Around 5 am. Damn. Nerds ARE night owls, you thought, sipping your freshly brewn cup of french pressed coffee while leaning against your tiny kitchen block.

SirEltharin - ‘Can’t really say that without knowing him, right?’ - 3 hours ago

SirEltharin - ‘Anything in particular wrong with Henry Cavill?’ - 2 hours ago

LadyGrim - ‘Woa woa. No harm meant. Sorry. Guess I just don’t trust ‘em pretty boys?’ - 3 minutes ago

SirEltharin - ‘How’s that so? And good morning, Lady ;)’ - 2 seconds ago

You bit your lip and let out a deep sigh. Oh this man didn’t know what hellfire could come his way, opening THAT topic.

LadyGrim - ‘Good morning ..and..I doubt you’d be interested.’

SirEltharin - ‘You had my curiosity, but now you have my attention.’

LadyGrim - ‘Fine. Let’s just keep it plain and simple. Lied to, cheated on and continuously disappointed. Guess I’ll just have to become a lesbian?’

SirEltharin - ‘Don’t let a few bad ones ruin it for the rest of us. Has it been long?’

LadyGrim - ‘Long?’

SirEltharin - ‘Apologies. I mean. Since you last dated?’

LadyGrim - ‘A year or so.’

SirEltharin - ‘And how old are you? Or am I being too bold asking such a thing?’

LadyGrim - ‘It’s fine. Thirty. Had my birthday two weeks ago. So yea..becoming a bit of an old spinster hehe.’

SirEltharin - ‘Belated happy birthday and..hardly a spinster, right? I mean. I’m 37 and haven’t found anyone yet. Heck. I guess I’m the old spinster here haha.’

LadyGrim - ‘I doubt the same rules apply for men.’

SirEltharin - ‘Trust me. We are all judged.’

Weeks passed and you and Sir kinda started to really get to know each other. You both lived in London - how practical -, were pretty enthused about sports, liked dogs (he had one, you wished you had one) and were close knit with your family. You with your sister, who already had a few kids. And he with his brothers. All with kids. Teasingly you donned each other the nicknames ‘Uncle and Aunty Spinster’.

You knew he had looked on your account. Seen some pictures of you. Even made a few comments on them and liked everything new you posted. But he, SirEltharin, remained mostly a mystery. You tried to talk yourself out of your curiosity, but couldn’t help but lay in bed fantasising about him. The only body part you had seen of him to this point were his hands, and they were actually quite pretty hands. Well manicured nails, strong fingers. It meant he probably wasn’t SUPER fat. So. That’s something.

Eventually the COVID-19 related regulations were becoming less restrictive and for the first time in months you could go back to work. The very news had made you both reluctant - you liked this new rhythm of painting and chatting with SirEltharin -, but also happy. Finally getting out of your tiny apartment, finally getting back to work. It may require some getting used to again, but this was just what you really needed.

In your enthusiasm you posted a picture on Instagram of your work outfit as it lay neatly spread out on your bed sheets. Your boss had made some quirky shirts to celebrate the reopening of the restaurant: “Brunello’s back” was written in fancy white lettering on the back of the shirt. You giggled as SirEltharin liked it within a split second.

SirEltharin - ‘Back to work hmm?’

LadyGrim - ‘Yep. Its all fun and games until the rat race starts again.’

SirEltharin - ‘Sounds Grim ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘You know me too well Sir. Anyways gotta go. Bye!’

SirEltharin - ‘See ya.’

See ya. You always thought it weird when strangers said that at the end of an online chat. Clients sometimes said it at the end of a phone reservation. That was understandable though; they were to come to the restaurant. But complete strangers? There was no such thing as “seeing you around”. However in the case of SirEltharin you were willing to let it slip. He probably didn’t think anything of it.

For a first night it was already quite hectic at Brunello’s. The room, although still far less bustling than usual, was filled. People were obviously eager to pick up their social lives again, the animated chatter of guests zooming around the room while you paced past the neatly spaced white clothed tables. Brunello’s was a rather luxurious restaurant and mostly businessmen and well-to-do families and friends came here to wine and dine. Tonight was special though, as a few celebrities were sitting in the far corner. Including a familiar face: Mr. Cavill, your eyes immediately falling on him as he seemingly was giving you a questioning look.

Perhaps he just wanted to order some drinks, you thought, halting next to the table and offering them your most kind, professional smile - ignoring the curious pair of blue eyes that tracked your every move.

‘Good evening and welcome to Brunello’s. Is there anything I can help you with?’ You spoke, the sentence fluently tipping of your tongue, your eyes wandering slowly over the guests. Most of them were unfamiliar to you. And Mr. Cavill..you tried to just not give him any attention as he was still burning his eyes into you.

‘We actually could use some advice on the wine. We’d like to start white, slightly fruity, perhaps French? Though the Italian one also sounds quite nice.’ A small blonde woman spoke, peering over her menu card.

As this was not your expertise, you called for the sommelier, stepping back to make room for him. And all the while you felt those eyes, gazing at you, almost brazenly. What was up with this Mr. Cavill? Or did you maybe have something funny on your face and did nobody dare to tell you? Shyly you excused yourself, leaving the guests in the capable hands of the sommelier, and quickly made for the women’s bathroom to check your face. 

There was nothing out of sort when you looked into the mirror. Strange. 

Peeking quickly on your phone, a habit when you were alone, you noticed a new message popping up on your Insta-chat.

SirEltharin - ‘I think we need to talk.’ - 30 seconds ago

--

Go to part 2

[thewayshedreamed]

Side Bar

An Elriel fic

This fic is set in the “This Time” Nessian AU— Starting with Elain’s birthday party from Part 3. Here’s the back story of those texts that haunted Elain, how the conversation with Azriel went, and mention of the eventual date that Nesta interrupted in Part 6 😉

You can catch up on This Time here!

A/N: It only took an eternity for me to finish this chapter. It’s the first thing I’ve posted that’s Elriel-centric, so I found myself deleting/re-writing to try and get it right. Eventually, I had to cut myself off and just put myself out there, so I hope y’all like how I’ve written them! Shoutout to @keshavomit and @acourtofmarauders whose comments inspired me to share this!!

——————————————————————————

Once Nesta dropped her off at her apartment post birthday breakfast, Elain drew herself a hot bubble bath. She hoped the warm water would ease her achy muscles and her unsteady nerves; both from the night before. It wasn’t that she had completely blacked out. She remembered the majority of the night, with only the time after her body started to succumb to exhaustion being a little fuzzy.

She lay back onto the back of the tub, taking a deep breath of eucalyptus scented bubbles and easing her eyes closed. She couldn’t help but reflect over the night, heart swelling with love for her family and friends who had truly made her 23rd birthday one to remember. It was increasingly rare that every one of them were able to get together on the same night, and she was feeling extra loved that they made it out just for her.

She had a few laughs to herself as the memories ran through her mind. She thought of her and Feyre dancing for hours, being joined by the others on and off throughout the night. Cassian grabbing her hand when Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” came through the speakers, spinning her around and singing loudly with her. Her friends keeping her drinks full and making her laugh. Being so excited that Nesta finally joined them for a couple of songs. Spinning into Azriel accidentally and hearing his deep laugh as he steadied her.

And just like that, her thoughts hanged on Azriel; like they always seemed to. She was no moron. She knew they had a natural sort of chemistry, but she always struggled to tell if he truly saw her that way or if he would ever be open to her. She was struck with a memory of him from the night before, something that hadn’t come back to her until now.

——————————————————————————

Somehow, she had ended up near the edge of the dance floor, semi-cornered near a table by Grayson. She remembered being so annoyed that he’d been there and even more annoyed that he was insisting on polite conversation. She wanted to yell at him that she knew he didn’t give a shit how she was doing and that he had no right to know after he’d wrecked her heart a couple of years prior. She wanted to swat at his hands when he would laugh and playfully touch her or reach for her. The alcohol in her system was begging her to do all of it, and she was almost completely convinced. Just one more touch or one more attempt at familiarity, and it was game over. She steeled herself, waiting, until a pair of arms wrapped gently around her waist from behind.

“There you are, love.” Azriel’s smooth, deep voice ran over her, and she relaxed immediately.

He was closer than usual, more affectionate. She realized the show they were supposed to be putting on, and she leaned into him. She rested her head back on his chest, and turned her chin way up to look into his face. He was looking down at her, mere inches away, with amusement sparkling in his hazel eyes.

“Hey,” she breathed, lamely, if she was being honest with herself. She felt the impression of cool glass in her hand and looked down.

”Sorry it took me so long to grab your drink. The bar was really backed up.”

She looked down at the half-empty glass in her hand. Definitely his existing drink. She decided to give him a little hell. Why not? They were pretending, anyway.

“Babe. It’s half-empty,” she pointed out through a laugh.

He narrowed his eyes at her playfully, telling her he knew she was being difficult. “I may or may not have gotten thirsty on my way back to find you.”

“Az, you remember Grayson.” She gestured toward her ex as she spoke. When he looked up, she noticed the tension in his jaw.

“Of course. How are you, man?” He released her waist with one hand, extending it toward Grayson. Grayson only looked at it, ignored it completely, and addressed Elain.

”Really? This guy? You’re better than that.” She felt Azriel tense behind her. Grayson gripped her upper arm, pulling her toward him. “You can’t be fucking serious, Elain. Guys like him are good for one thing. Maybe you can have a few good rolls around in the sheets, but you can’t honestly expect to settle down with a guy like him.”

All too quickly, Azriel’s large hand gripped Grayson’s wrist where he was holding Elain’s arm. There was a layer of darkness to his tone that Elain had never heard.

“Get your fucking hand off of her. Now.” He gripped Grayson harder in warning, but Grayson’s eyes stayed on Elain’s.

“Elain, come on,” Grayson said.

She was fuming. His company had been unwelcome from the beginning. He’d been far too comfortable entering her personal space. He had openly insulted Azriel on multiple levels. He was manhandling her. The words left her before she could stop them, the alcohol delighting that it finally got its way.

“Even if you’re right, he’s the best fuck I’ve ever had and has ruined me for anyone else. So allow me to indulge myself for as long as I feel like it,” she seethed.

Grayson’s eyes widened and quickly narrowed in anger. Nevertheless, his grip on her arm softened, and Azriel shoved his arm back toward his body. He shook his head and walked away, totally speechless.

“You okay, Ellie?” Azriel was in front of her now, looking down into her face. He was running the back of his fingers up and down her arms, and she cursed the goosebumps that erupted over her skin.

“Yeah. I really am. Thank you for coming over. You didn’t have to do that,” she said. She glanced up at him and watched his features soften when he realized she was serious. Shortly thereafter, he started laughing.

“Elain, you can’t just go around saying things like that about me. Word will travel, and I may not live up to people’s expectations,” he joked.

She groaned, feeling guilty that she had completed objectified him without his consent. She leaned into him, resting her forehead on his chest for a couple of seconds before looking at him again.

“I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what got into me. I just felt like humbling him a little, and I didn’t like how he was talking about you.”

Azriel laughed as he pulled her into a hug, his forearm braced around her neck.

“No apologies, Ellie. Come on. I owe you a drink; you know, a fresh one.”

——————————————————————————

Elain’s eyes popped open, and despite the heat of the bath water, she felt herself flush further at the memory. He hadn’t seemed bothered, but holy shit. Who would take it upon themselves to call someone “the best fuck they’ve ever had” when they’d never so much as hugged long enough to be considered intimate? Gods above.

She was obsessively thinking about her deleted messages again. She grabbed her phone off the side of the tub, hoping that when she opened her messages app, all of her texts would magically reappear. They didn’t, just as they hadn’t the other 15 times she’d done it that day.

She removed the plug from the bathtub, letting the water out and begging it to take all her memories along with it. She toweled off, put her lazy Sunday clothes on, and padded out of the bathroom.

She was startled by her phone ringing and dragging her back to the present. To her absolute horror, Azriel’s name flashed on her screen.

She steadied herself before she answered. She was glad to hear that her voice sounded as if she were a perfectly stable person.

“Hello?”

”Hey, Ellie. How you feeling today?” he teased.

Hungover. Fucking mortified.

”About how you would imagine,” she laughed. “What’s up?”

”I wanted to check in on you. And I wanted to see when you would have some free time to meet up. I still have your gift,” he explained.

Of course he’d gotten her a gift. Because he was wonderful. And she’d treated him like a glorified escort. She answered him before she lost her nerve.

”Oh. You didn’t have to do that, Az,” she paused. “What about now? You could come by?”

It took him a couple of seconds to respond. “Um, sure. Yeah. You know, it doesn’t have to be today, though. I didn’t mean to impose or anything.”

Shit. Was she too eager? To hell with it if she was. Waiting would kill her.

”You’re not! Really. I’m just being a bum on my couch today. I’d like the company,” she replied.

——————————————————————————

After about thirty minutes, Elain was convinced she was being stood up. Maybe he didn’t have the heart to tell her he wasn’t wanting to see her today. She was about to draft a text to him before she heard his knock on her apartment door.

“Come in!” she called. She had unlocked her door during her fitful pacing minutes ago.

He poked his head in before opening the door and stepping inside. The sunshine flowed into the apartment behind him, and for a second, she was almost convinced that he was superhuman. His dark hair was damp and brushed haphazardly to the side, and she couldn’t help thinking about how unfairly attractive he was. He was wearing a black v-neck with black jogger sweats, and his scent of cedar and mist washed over her as he plopped on her couch.

“You look way too alive and well today. Seems a little unfair,” she pouted.

He breathed a laugh as he turned toward her. “Some of us drank water throughout the night, birthday girl,” he teased as he tapped her nose with his index finger.

“Hey!” she exclaimed in faux annoyance. “I drank water. Maybe it was today, but I did.”

He tapped her knee with his hand, and she swore she felt it throughout her entire body.

”I’ll be nice. I’m here bearing gifts, after all,” he replied.

She thought back to the night before. The memory of their bit with Grayson, her deleted texts. She thought of Nesta’s words of advice that morning to ask him about the only remaining text she had: his reply. It was now or never, she supposed.

”Before you give me my present...” She bit her lip. “...can I talk to you?”

She watched his eyes land on her lips and jump immediately to her meet her stare. His brows furrowed in concern.

“Of course, Ellie. About anything. You okay?” His words, so similar to those he asked her last night, flooded her nerves all over again.

“I woke up this morning to a really confusing text from you. Not that what you said is confusing necessarily, but apparently, I deleted all of my texts last night. I must have done it right before you responded, so I have zero context to our conversation.” She could feel the heat of her blush on her chest, her neck, her face. She wanted to be literally anywhere else. She showed him the text for frame of reference.

Azriel: 😂 Not cool. You had me worried there for a minute, Ellie. Goodnight. Hope you enjoyed your birthday.

She watched his eyes scan the text, his lips spreading into a small smile. He wasn’t speaking soon enough for her liking.

”Oh. That. We had been texting a little at the table right before you left, but at some point between you standing to leave and getting home, you sent me this.” He scrolled through his phone until he landed on her message. He turned it to her so that she could read it for herself.

Ellie: I’m v mad at you Az

Another one, several minutes later.

Ellie: Nvm talked to Nessie. We’re good. Night 😘

Cauldron, Elain. Kiss emoji, really?

The only other message was his response that she’d already shown him.

She shook her head. “I have no idea what that’s about. What was I saying before that?”

Now it was Azriel’s turn to blush, the tips of his ear turning a faint pink. “Oof. I don’t know if sober me feels as bold as the drunk me in those. I think I’ll just keep those tucked away.”

She blinked at him and his nerve to insinuate he was going to keep them from her.

“Azriel Spion. You better show me those texts.”

”Mm. Don’t think I will, Elain Archeron.” His blush spread to his cheeks.

She lunged for his phone, but he dodged her at the last second. He lifted it into the air out of her reach, her body sprawled across his lap. Elain with less adrenaline would have been mortified to find herself there, but this was critical information. She pushed herself back onto her knees, reaching for the phone in his outstretched hand. He evaded her yet again.

”Why are you so giant? For the love of the Mother, just let me see!” she exclaimed.

”No! It’s not my fault you deleted yours,” he retorted.

She knew she would never be able to overpower him, and he was too stubborn for her to talk him into giving in. She landed on torture, hoping it would work in her favor.

She stopped reaching for his phone and instead turned her hands to his torso. His position left his underarms wide open, and she took her chance, hoping he was ticklish. Otherwise, this would only be even more awkward than it already was.

To her absolute delight, Azriel yelped in surprise. He immediately snapped his arms to his sides as he tried, and failed, to hold back his loud laugh. He tried to move away or grip her hands, but doing so would mean he would have to shift his arms. His body wouldn’t allow it.

“Elain!” he bellowed. “Stop it. I said STOP.” He let out another loud belly laugh, and Elain fell a little bit harder at the sound. It was one of the most precious things she had ever seen. Azriel, who was always so reserved, so dry, letting out such a loud, deep laugh felt like an honor to witness.

”Not until you show me those texts! They’re just as much mine as there are yours!” She had to raise her voice over his laughter, the words coming out through laughter of her own.

“You didn’t keep yours,” he said through clenched teeth between laughs. “Not. My. Problem.”

She pushed her fingers in a little harder, and he yelped again, dissolving into laughter once more.

“Fine! Alright!” he yelled. “You win!”

He tossed his phone on the cushion behind her. She stopped immediately to retrieve it, leaving Azriel spent and gasping for breath next to her.

“You tiny, brutal woman,” he breathed, eyes locked on her.

She waved him off, scrolling up through his messages to the beginning of last night’s conversation. The first messages were mild enough. She thanked him for her birthday drink, for saving her from that conversation with Grayson, for humoring her with a slow dance despite the fact that he wasn’t one to dance much. His responses were polite and friendly, barely on the flirtatious side. She was about to toss his phone into his lap and call him dramatic before her eyes landed on a message that sent her pulse through the roof.

Ellie: That feels nice. Thank you 😊

A: Anything for the birthday girl.

Ellie: I mean, I can’t believe everyone hasn’t offered to play with my hair. Seems a little rude.

A: Very. I guess you’ll have to get new friends.

Ellie: Except you. You have to stay 💕

A: Like I said, anything for you.

She shot her gaze up to look at Azriel. He was watching her with the focus of a surgeon, scanning her face for any reaction. She was doing the same to him. She had a vague, fuzzy memory of sitting next to him in their booth for a portion of the night and assumed that’s when these had occurred. They had likely resorted to texting considering their friends’ nosiness. There were more messages, the time stamp about thirty minutes later.

Ellie: Stop being so nice to me. I’m going to fall in love with you.

A: Promise?

Ellie: 😅 Very funny. You’ve been warned.

The rest were the ones she’d already read about how she was mad at him, whatever that meant. She could hear her own heartbeat; feel her blood pressure in her gums. She knew her blush was at an embarrassing level, and she had to take a couple of deep breaths before she looked at him again. He was still looking at her, an almost pained expression on his face.

She cleared her throat. “So. Did you?”

”Did I what?”

”Stop being nice to me,” she murmured.

”No.”

She locked his phone and handed it back to him as she settled into the cushions. She wanted so badly to close the distance between them, but she knew she’d already pushed him beyond his comfort zone. His answer spoke volumes if she was interpreting him correctly, but she was terrified to find out. She decided to stay the course, keeping the focus on her deleted messages.

“I guess I should check in with Nes. Just to see what I was mad about,” she said quietly.

”I talked to her this morning,” he murmured.

Her eyes locked on his yet again.

”And are you going to tell me?”

”Do I have a choice? You’ll torture it out of me otherwise,” he joked. She was grateful for the laughter as a break in the tension. He cleared his throat.

“You told Nesta you were mad at her, too. When she asked why, you told her it was because she and I are such close friends,” he said. He glanced at her, giving her a chance to react.

“Why would I care about that now? I only know you because of your friendship.” She was so tired of being lost, of being the only one who didn’t know what was happening.

His voice remained quiet and even, as if speaking any louder may scare her away. “You told her it was because I would never look at you. Because you’re her little sister and I was considerate and wouldn’t want to make her mad.”

She swallowed thickly, hoping she looked more put together than she actually was. “And what did she say that made me so quick to drop it?”

That evoked a small laugh and the sound of it made her want to curl into him. “That I’m not scared of her in the slightest,” he began. “And that I was basically the only person she would find worth of you.” His blush deepened as he finished.

She nodded, processing his words. Her mouth was dry, and she was totally speechless. The distance between them was almost painful now, but she was so terrified to make him uncomfortable and potentially ruin their comfortable friendship.

He shifted on her couch, scooting a little closer to her. She was still facing him, her legs curled under her and her elbow settled on the back of the couch. She propped her head on her fist and fixed her gaze on his thigh, an inch away from her knees.

“When I told Nesta that I’d deleted my texts, she told me to talk to you. That you would be understanding.” She glanced up at him. “I basically bit her head off. But it’s because she knew without a doubt that you would understand, isn’t it?”

”She’s known for a long time how I feel, Ellie. Without me having to say a word.”

All she could do was nod. He shifted forward, turning his attention back to the reason he’d come over.

”Az, you really didn’t have to—“ he interrupted her my lifting a scarred finger.

”None of that. I wanted to, and I did.” He placed an envelope in her lap as he ran his hand through his damp hair.

She opened it, scanning small documents inside to figure out what he had gifted her. Two tickets to see the Velaris Philharmonic Orchestra. One of the first true conversations they’d had, she shared with him that she wanted to go one day. With the hustle and bustle of life and the expenses that came with it, she’d never gotten around to it.

True to her sensitive spirit, tears brimmed her lower eyelids. She was so touched that he remembered but simultaneously felt guilty that he’d spent so much on a gift for her.

“You can invite who you want to. I know Nesta has wanted to go, but you can bring a friend, too. I just wanted to make sure you had company. It didn’t feel right to give you a gift where you’d have to go alone.” Her heart melted at his rambling. Azriel never showed his nerves, and he had let that wall down for her several times today.

“Azriel.” She glanced at him, willing him to look at her again. His elbows were resting on his knees and he’d been staring straight ahead as he spoke. He finally turned his head toward her, his onyx hair brushing across his brow. She leaned forward, resting her chin on his shoulder as she took in his elegant bone structure.

“Thank you. I love it more than you know,” she whispered.

His eyes lit up at her words, and her chest squeezed at how much joy it brought him to make her happy. His eyes fell to her lips, and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched him wet his own. He brought a scarred hand up to cup her cheek and pulled her face even closer to his, using his thumb to pull her lip from her teeth. She gasped softly, and he pressed his full lips softly to hers. She leaned into him, letting out a small whimper when his grip tightened slightly on her cheek.

Something shifted in him at hearing her whimper into his mouth, and he sat up to orient his body toward hers. He deepened the kiss, then hooked his hand behind her knee to pull her over his lap. She settled into him, moving her hips against his, and he let out a low groan as she moved.

She pulled back from his kiss to look at him, still a little in disbelief that this is where their day had taken them. She ran her fingers through his hair and watched as his eyes fluttered shut. He let out the most indecent moan, and it took everything she had not to slant her mouth over his again.

“What are you doing Thursday?” she asked.

His eyes popped open, still a little glazed over from the heat between them. His hands were under her sweater, thumbs tracing small circles over her ribs.

“No plans, why?”

”A very dear friend of mine gifted me two tickets to see the orchestra, and I’d really like to take you on a date, if that’s okay.”

He smiled at her, his eyes turning up at the corners as he looked at her. “I would say I feel bad for the guy, but there’s no way I’m missing that,” he replied, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. “I’ll be sure to pull out my best suit.”

Her returning smile was so broad, it almost hurt. “Perfect. I can’t wait,” she whispered as she started to rock her hips once more. His lips crashed into hers then, their conversation over for the time being.

Before she lost herself in him completely, she had one fleeting thought as she reflected over their earlier words. “So, did you?”— “Did I what?”— “Stop being nice to me.”— “No.”

It looked like he was hell bent on keeping it that way, and she knew she was beyond screwed.

She was already in love with Azriel Spion, and even still, he was never going to stop being nice to her.

——————————————————————————

Well, there it is! A brief timeline note: Nesta’s phone call falls on that Thursday, during their post-date sleepover. I hope y’all enjoyed it!

Tags (This Time taglist + masterlist):

@polireader // @lord-douglas-the-third // @justgiu12 // @notyournymphetish // @sjm-things // @strangeenemy // @iammissstark // @keshavomit // @sjmships // @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks // @dusty-lightbulb // @texas-shaped-waffle-maker // @julemmaes // @charincharge // @superspiritfestival // @awesomelena555 // @sleeping-and-books // @hizqueen4life // @maastrash // @bookstantrash // @rhyswhitethorn // @grace-k-sterling // @sayosdreams // @sis-it-dont-add-up // @b00kworm // @courtofjurdan // @sannelovesreading // @acourtofmarauders // @candice-dick-fit-in-your-mouth // @gisellefigue08 // @girl-who-reads-the-books

[dishearteningmediocrity]

So I know I post far too much about Colin Clive, but sometimes you find something that has to be shared. This article appeared in the March 18, 1930 edition of the Brisbane Telegraph, though it seems it’s a reprint from somewhere else. But it’s an article Colin wrote about his experiences in the play, his thoughts about playing Stanhope, and what making the film was like (answer: muddy.) It isn’t startlingly revelatory or anything, but I was definitely excited to read his perspective on things, especially since he tended to avoid publicity and really didn’t like talking about himself. At least that’s my impression from what I’ve read. Anyway, hope some of you find this similarly interesting!

Here’s the transcript because it’s very hard to read:

Greatest War Play

Miracle of “Journey’s End”

Just over a fortnight ago, “Journey’s End” became a year old (writes Colin Clive in “Answers”). That anniversary performance at the Prince of Wales Theatre in London was, I think, the most thrilling of any that I have ever played in; for whenever I came off the stage during the course of it, and so could forget my part for a moment or two, I found myself automatically reflecting upon the most wonderful year of my life—the year in which I had the good fortune to be chosen for one of the leading roles in the most wonderful play of the century.

The romance of “Journey’s End” is, I suppose, well-known to almost everyone by now. The author, R.C. Sherriff, was a clerk earning a small salary in a London insurance office when he wrote it for members of the Kingston Rowing Club to perform when their annual dramatic show took place.

The club turned it down as being unsuitable for amateurs. Sherriff then submitted it, on the off chance of its being accepted, to several of the theatrical producers in London. They also rejected it.

“A play with no woman in the cast?” they said. “Good gracious no! The public would never stand for it.”

But the Stage Society saw the possibilities in “Journey’s End,” and presented it at one of their Sunday night performances.

The reports of the critics were so good that Maurice Browne decided to buy it and put it on for a regular run. Its success was instantaneous. It is now being shown in nearly all of the world’s capitals, having made fortunes for both Sherriff and Browne, and a name for every member of its London cast. In addition, a talkie of it has just been completed at Hollywood under the direction of James Whale.

Is it surprising, therefore, that I cannot thank Dame Fortune enough for what she has done on my behalf during the past year?

I was never able to serve in the war on account of my age; although it was only by a matter of months that I missed it. But the fact that I did miss it was the most disappointing thing I have ever experienced in my life.

THE NEXT BEST THING

But now I feel that my disappointment has been mitigated to a certain extent; not so much because of the help that “Journey’s End” has given me in my stage career, but because I have been able to do the next best thing to undergoing those longed-for experiences. I have re-enacted them in the most realistic of all war plays.

“A poor substitute!” I can hear many ex-Service men exclaiming. Admittedly I am running into none of the dangers, facing none of the hardships which they had to undergo; but by playing the part of Stanhope eight times a week I am beginning to know just what the Great War must have felt like to every man who went through it. That is to say, I think I can understand this better than most of these others who were unable, through age or disability, to “join up.”

Firstly, I am finding out what a physical strain it must have been. I cannot tell why I should be feeling a strain of this kind as a result of playing my part: but I undoubtedly do feel one.

Secondly, I am getting to know what a terrible strain it must have been on the nerves to live, day in, day out, to that accompaniment of gunfire—a strain far more terrible than I ever pictured, in my most imaginative moments, before “Journey’s End” commenced. I can, in fact, understand perfectly how badly Stanhope must have needed his regular drams of whisky to keep himself from “cracking up.”

PLAY’S MOST STIRRING SCENE

Incidentally, a lot of nonsense has been talked, by the few people who have seen fit to criticize “Journey’s End,” about this need of Stanhope’s for the whisky bottle. According to them, the British officer is accused, through it, of having to become a drunkard before he could do brave acts. The point they miss, of course, is that Stanhope, in his zeal for his duty, had gone without leave for a long time; and that, being a very highly-strung individual at the best of times, this had reduced him to a nervous wreck.

And I have noticed that the same critics, with their overwhelming desire to be destructive, always pounce upon Stanhope as representing the typical British officer, and never upon Osborne, the quiet ex-schoolmaster who is the truly brave character of the piece.

While on this subject, I would like to mention, in consequence of many inquiries, that I consider the whisky-taking scene in the first act to be quite the most stirring of all that I, personally, take part in. This may occasion some surprise, for I have found that most people imagine the scene in which I threaten to shoot Hibbert, one of the junior officers, for cowardice, to be the most impressive of all.

I cannot feel, as some readers may now be thinking, that I am actually taking part in the Great War itself when I am on the stage, for if I did so my acting would suffer.

I admit that I found it hard to remember that I was only acting when I took part in the trench scenes while the film of “Journey’s End” was being made at Hollywood.

I was then up to my knees in real mud, with shots being fired all round me and with men going wilder than would ever have been possible on the stage.

 A striking tribute to the extraordinary realism of this episode was a remark which an American onlooker made to me after it was over.

“Well, if that wasn’t just great?” he drawled. “You know, it has made me wonder if you guys over in Britain didn’t have something to do with winning the War, after all?”

[colour-outside-the-liness]

Hey, I'm doing good too. Just normal amounts of stressful stuff right now. Just moved to a country I've never been to before but can't complain, things are not as hard as the last time I did this so. Thanks for asking! Yeah, I saw you posting about some pretty scary health issues before, I'm glad you came out of that alive and hope you're healthier now!

The nerve some people have! Haha I know I would be pissed if people were questioning my intelligence like that especially after a couple of drinks in haha. Though I do like taunting people when I play group games, I'll be like "don't need to try that hard guys, you're gonna lose anyway" just to mess with them or just call people sore losers if they accuse me of cheating haha (they're probably right on the accusations tho). People get real mad sometimes it's kinda funny. 😂

Omg literally laughed out loud reading this! Hahaha, how did you manage to fall over a road sign then end up in a ditch? lol omg hope you didn't get hurt too bad 😂 I was trying to downplay my drunken escapades but since you shared yours I should tell you my worst one:

I was at this summer street party at night and got drunk on something made out of tropical herbs and cachaça (which is about 48% alcohol), drank 3 and a half bottles of that like it was apple juice, made friends with a bunch of strangers in a bathroom queue (who tried to talk to me weeks later but I had no idea who they were), had to be held by my best friend while I peed (mostly missing the toilet), fell in the middle of the street and scraped my knee, threatened this boy who was helping me walk and told him not to try anything funny or I would beat him up, then dragged my friends to the beach and left them shortly after to go make out with my ex, came back with lipstick all over my mouth and chin and when my friends asked what I was doing I said I was just talking to my ex and they were like NO YOU WERE NOT, hahaha then I kissed all my girl friends on a dare and we danced under the full moon, then I told my best friend I had to puke so she took me to the ocean but I changed my mind and happened to step on a dead turtle on the way back and started crying bc of it, but last month my best friend told me it was a rock I had stepped on (I believed it was a dead turtle for 7 years!). Had the worst hangover of my life the next day. ✌️✨

Ah I'm happy you liked it! I've never listened to Six musical before but it sounds fun! I can see why you like it haha made me want to dance around my apartment 💃. And hey if liking musicals is your thing then it's great, I'm sure Hozier will understand if he's not your top artist of the year. 😋 Here's my "damie" Pinterest board if you or anyone else wants to check it out, totally recommend making one if you're a visual person like me!

https://pin.it/UcHVlkq

Oh I could talk about Dani and Jamie forever I think. I love the beast in the jungle speech too and it's so painful to watch, VP delivered that beautifully, but I have to admit I'm always a crying mess from episode 1 when older Jamie starts reciting that song about being sad while waiting for her lover to return, this show is fucking cruel I hate it and love it at the same time hahaha. Omg your mom 😂 but I mean it's truly an honor to be compared to someone like Dani, no? She's really great even if she needs a little help haha (don't we all).

Aaah you're amazing! Thank you so much, I'll read this pirate AU soon!

I used to draw a lot, really loved doing it when I was a kid as I said before, and all throughout adulthood too but I haven't done that in almost a year now bc I've got a bit of a case of burnout I guess, it just takes a lot of effort to do it when it shouldn't be like that at all. I used to do fanart too, for other fandoms. Even made one for Dani x Jamie but ended up not liking how it turned out haha. I've got a lot of respect for writers and fanfic writers also! Yall can make words make sense in really interesting and beautiful ways, build worlds so enthralling I can see them vividly in my head. Writing is such an incredibly fascinating skill to have! And I guess the most important thing is that we enjoy doing these things right? Even if we think we're not particularly good at it.

Anyway, have a lovely weekend! 👋✨

Good I'm glad you're doing great but sorry you're dealing with stressful stuff!! Hope living in a new country goes well for you I'm so jealous that you've lived in different countries I'd love to live somewhere else even if just for s few years!! Awwh thank you so much I definitely came out of it alive and am feeling so much better now thank you I mean I do some pretty ditzy things so when people say it to me it's pretty deserved sometimes, I'm secretly smart and people just don't expect it so I never mind too much haha I might have to start saying the things that you do and just taunting them over it I mean, I usually do win even when they make me answer different questions so I will definitely have to start saying things like that to them Haha I love that you're just like "yeah they're probably right in their accusations" I agree seeing how mad some people get over games and stuff is funny (it's me I'm people I hate loosing games depending on what it is and I am very competitive) So it was very dark and all we had for light was my roommates flashlight on her phone but while we were walking home a friend of ours that lived else where kept texting her to make sure we were still safe (my phone as dead at this point) so while she was texting him her flashlight was facing down and someone had moved this road sign to the footpath and it was on that sits on the floor so while I couldn't see it I walked into it and fell over it but while I feel I grabbed hold of it and flipped with it and fell in a ditch with it on top of me... I was fine and was just laid laughing while my friend looked down at me and in the most northern accent ever just said "get up you dickhead." and helped me off of the floor and then asked if I was okay... and I was so it was all good!! Haha 😂 I love this drunken story that sounds like one hell of a night and is a roller coaster from start to finish!! I'm sorry you thought you had stood on a dead turtle for 7 years though, someone really should've told you that it was just a rock!! But that sounds like my kind of night!! I love nights like that... stories that will last a life time... the only down side is the hangover... luckily I have only ever had one hang over in my life and it wasn't the morning after the road sign fiasco... I felt surprisingly good the morning after that haha 😂 It's such a good musical it's about Henry VIII wives and I just love everything to do with his wives and that musical is so much fun and actually gives a little insight to the lives the six Tudor queens had away from Henry and with him because at school we're mainly just taught about him which sucks!! I loved the Hozier song and am definitely gonna have to listen to more of his stuff!! I love musicals so much I mainly listen to musical soundtracks at the minute- usually, Legally Blonde and Six on repeat haha 😂 Ooo thank you I will definitely check out this Pinterest board thanks for sending it to me!! I could talk about them forever too... since watching Bly Manor my niece has been asking me so many questions about it and I am more than happy to talk to her about it haha!! The beast in the jungle speech just breaks my heart every time I relate to it so much and VP just delivers it so beautifully!! Oh yeah now I know at the beginning that it's older Jamie I am just a wreck the whole show is just so beautiful and heart breaking at the same time I LOVE IT!! Even though it makes me sob- I keep putting myself through it!! I mean, yeah I was happy that she said it Dani is great but it was the way she said it... my mum can be something else sometimes... she said she thought Dani was like me the first time she does the accent when she says "I've fallen quite in love with London" because I just randomly do accents a lot too but it was the way she was like "She needs help... but I like her she reminds me of you" I was just like... "Should I go get help?" I still don't know the answer to my question about if I need help or not but I mean I probably do need it You're welcome I really hope you like it!! It's a

great fic I love it!! Yeah I get that if stuff starts taking too much effort and burns you out you're not gonna wanna keep doing it so it's understandable that you stopped!! I think fan art is great and I really would love to be able to do it myself but I just don't have the skill it takes!! Awwh it's a shame you didn't like the Dani x Jamie one you did I would've loved to have seen it!! Honestly there are so many talented writers out there and when I read their fics I am just in awe of the worlds they have built and the stories they have created we are so blessed in this fandom to have so many amazing writers and so many amazing fics out there Oh yeah definitely its important to enjoy what you do!! I know I love writing and love writing fics for Dani and Jamie so I think I'll be doing it for a while even if I'm not great at it haha Awwh thank you very much I hope you have a great weekend too!! ☺️