#i need to get them tomorrow urgently though

[xox-b1te-m3-xox]

man looking at my old rp blog really highlights just how bad my anger issues used to be

so glad that i'm over that now

[ellecdc]

HIII!!!!!!!!! first off i wanna say - I LOVEEEEE ALLLLLLLL THE RECENT WORKS SM i came back and i was reading through them and they're soooooo good ur so talented omgomomg

ok so request (take ur time if u want!!) idk if u write platonic fics but i really really love how u write barty and that one fic where reader and reg were fighting and she was bsfs with barty- i loved it smmmmm so can we please get some platonic barty x reader being the main focus? (i dont mind anyyy romantic pairings i just want best friend barty being absolutely insane plsplsplpslsl

of course MY LOVE; this request is from back in March hahaha sorry

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who they find in bed with Barty

CW: fluff, swearing

Regulus had spent the last umpteen years believing himself to be a light sleeper, likely thanks to growing up in a house straight out of a muggle horror film where his fight or flight reflexes were always at the ready to flee from any danger. It appeared, though, that being,  like, loved by and feeling safe with the people you surround yourself with could do wonders to a person’s subconscious…

Who knew?

This meant that though Regulus was typically a light sleeper, he seemed to have slept through your departure from his bed in the Slytherin boys’ dormitory.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to sleep through the sudden jolt Remus caused in the bed as he sat up and began panickedly feeling around the bed. 

“What’re you doing?” Regulus groaned as he pulled his pillow over his head and rolled onto his side in order to point his back towards his - currently skating-on-thin-ice - boyfriend. 

“Where’s dovey?” Remus hissed back; an urgent quality taking over his words that Regulus could tell it was far too early to be dealing with.

“What d’you mean?”

Remus groaned in exasperation as he cast a lumos with his wand. “I mean where is our girlfriend, you sod.”

“Have you checked with Barty?”

Regulus almost allowed sleep to pull him back into its sweet, sweet embrace before Remus ruined it again.

“What?”

“Barty, Remus. Have you checked with Barty?” Regulus repeated irritably.

“No? What? Why would I have checked with Junior?” Remus sputtered, though his asinine question was answered by none other than Barty himself.

“Finders keepers mother fuckers.” He snickered quietly.

Remus ripped open the curtain of Regulus’ four poster bed in the Slytherin dungeons to see you sleeping quite peacefully on the opposite side of Barty who was grinning arrogantly at your two boyfriends. 

“What!?” 

“She was too hot over there; I can feel the heat radiating off of you from here, Lupin. What the fuck is that about?”

“She could have taken a blanket off!” Remus argued petulantly.

“You kept tucking her back in saying she was going to catch a cold.” Regulus added helpfully sleepily.

Barty snickered at Remus’ disbelieving scoff. 

“No. Absolutely not; Junior, give me our girlfriend back.” He demanded.

This time it was Barty’s turn to scoff. “Would you shut the fuck up, Lupin; we’re trying to sleep over here.”

And to Remus’s absolute horror, you seemed to stir at the conversation causing you to reach an arm over Barty’s chest and rest your head on his shoulder before you settled back into a restful slumber. 

“Leave her be, Rem.” Regulus chided, causing Remus to divert his malcontented glare to his boyfriend.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re always going on and on about how we need to prioritize sleep; she’s doing that.” He explained simply.

“With him!” Remus nearly shrilled, earning him a ‘shut up you stupid sod’ from said girlfriend stealer.

“Well would you rather have both of us be tetchy tomorrow for having our beauty sleep interrupted, or just me!?” Regulus finally barked, pulling his pillow away from his face to shoot Remus a stern glare. 

Remus seemed to consider his options before he begrudgingly relented and sunk back under the covers with a very petulant harumph.

“She’s going to smell like him tomorrow.” He pouted as he pulled Regulus into his arms possessively. 

Regulus sighed and nuzzled further into Remus’ neck. “You can fix that tomorrow.”

Regulus felt the tension in Remus’ body relax as he no doubt imagined all the ways he would be doing just that.

[finelinevogue]

lost n found

summary - you are lost in italy the night before your wedding

pairing: fiancé!harry x reader

word count: ~2k

You were definitely lost.

Drunk and lost.

To: harry - im so sor:(y

From: harry - Baby, you’re fine❤️ Drop me your location and I’ll come find you. Please don’t move xx

To: harry - okaY.i love you xox

So currently you were sat on a stone wall, somewhere on a random side street in a small Italian village, waiting for your boyfriend to come and pick you up.

Harry had gone out with a few of his closest guy friends for drinks, for one last night as an unmarried man.

You and your girls had gone out for drinks too and you had mentioned to the boys that you would catch them up later.

At some point during the evening, though, you and the girls had all gone to the beach and you had gone to the toilet. It had been a trek to find one, only when you tried to find your way back you took so many drunken wrong turns that you couldn’t tell your legs from rights now.

Reading a map was useless, but sending Harry messages wasn’t.

You originally hadn’t wanted to send him any messages, not wanting to ruin his last night a “free” man but at some point you had become a little too lost to care.

Swinging your legs as you sat on the wall, you watched the birds fly overhead amongst the clear blue sky. You detailed all the cracks in the old buildings and counted twelve windows on one wall alone.

Your brain was fuzzy and your eyes kept on wanting to close from tiredness. You would be blaming a lot of your girl friends tomorrow for the continuous passing of shots your way.

Your phone rang in your hand.

“Yeah?” You answered, not even checking the caller ID.

“Baby? Love? Can y’hear me?” Harry asked.

“Yeah.”

“You’re not where y’said you’d be.” Harry sounded stressed.

“N-no I am. I sent you my location a-and I haven’t moved.”

You stood up and could feel yourself starting to panic. If Harry didn’t know where you were then there was no way of you knowing. Harry wasn’t ever a big enough drinker to get really drunk, unlike you.

You only ever got drunk when you felt you were in a safe environment, like tonight had been surrounded by all your closest girl friends. Or always with Harry.

Now that you didn’t have anyone and you were still drunk, you were getting anxiety of being alone and intoxicated.

Cue to shaky hands and tears.

“Are y’sure baby?”

“Y-yes. Fuck me. You’re not going to find me. Fuck. I don’t – shit – I.. I’m…”

“Hey, hey. Y/N, baby. Woah, slow down for me, okay? I am coming for you, okay? I just.. It was my mistake and I just need to relocate myself. You’re okay.”

Your phone was shaky in your hands and you started twisting your body around, as if expecting some random creepy guy to come around the corner and take advantage of you.

The twisting didn’t help your head, though, and was making you feel increasingly dizzy and sick.

“Y/N?” Harry asked urgently and you wondered whether you’d missed something he said.

“I-I’m scared.” You honestly said, backing yourself against a wall and trying to let the cool stone calm you down.

Your tears will no doubt have ruined your minimal makeup by now, not that that was a main priority of yours right now.

“Honey, you’re okay. I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

Harry sounded like he was running.

His voice sounded a little breathy and you could hear the fast movement of wind through the speakerphone.

“Y/N, love, turn on your data.” Harry said.

“I ran out.” You banged your head back against the wall, not even thinking about the pain that just caused.

You whimpered as you sank down onto the floor, knees tucked close to your chest and arm wrapped around your legs. Your phone was still to your ear, with Harry’s voice being the only sane thing in this moment.

“Okay, okay.” Harry muttered to himself rather than you. More running sounded from Harry’s end of the phone. “Baby, y’still there?”

“Mm.”

Your mind travelled to many worst case scenarios and due to how bad they were your panic only increased.

This was supposed to be your last nights as an unmarried couple and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d ruined that. He must’ve been having such a good night.

You’d seen a couple of photos on his private Instagram story and other people’s Instagram stories. Your fiancé looked divine. He just looked so perfect that it was difficult to believe that he had chosen you and you got to call him yours.

It did make you nearly cry that he was thinking of you, via Instagram, though.

“You feeling okay, baby?” Harry asked.

“Don’t know. I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“It’s okay. I’m not angry or upset. Just want to make sure you’re okay, my love.”

“Okay.”

“So you have to be brave for me, okay?”

“Yes, okay.”

You got stuck for a moment, trying to think of possible ways you could calm yourself down and distract yourself. Luckily, Harry was already one step ahead.

“Hey, baby?” He grabbed your attention.

“Yeah.”

“We’re getting married tomorrow.”

You couldn’t help but let the smile take over your face. You weren’t scared at all for tomorrow. You had no nervous jitters. All you felt was love in your heart for your husband to be.

“We are.”

“And you’re going to look so beautiful.”

“So are you.”

“I can’t wait to see you in your wedding dress. I bet it looks so pretty.”

You sniffled, building back your strength and overcoming your anxiety. A lot of your strength came from the love you hold for Harry.

You heard a noise from your left and looked to see a cat rustling through some litter.

Your heart deflated when you realised it wasn’t Harry. You knew he was coming though. He was on his way and he would not stop running until he found you.

It was almost like a bad scene out of a romance movie.

The night before your wedding and something terrible goes wrong. It’s a sign!

“I think it’s just perfectly me.” You said, talking about your wedding dress.

“Sounds perfect to me then.” Harry paused for a moment. “Baby, did you walk under an archway, like, uh, a stone archway covered in pink flowers?”

“I-I don’t know. I don’t remember.” You ran a stressed hand over your forehead.

“Okay. That’s okay.”

“Everyone’s going to be so mad at me.” You began getting frustrated with yourself. “Fuck.” You breathed in a sob and exhaled with a bigger breath.

“Promise you no one’s mad, baby. Gem has messaged me a thousand times asking if you’re okay. I can’t even answer ‘cause this bloody maps apps is a fucking nuisance. I swear to–”

“Harry?” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking up from your knees to check your phone. He was still on the line. “Hello?”

“Y/N!” Harry shouted your name, but not from down the phone.

You could see Harry walking over to you very quickly, clearly panting from having run street after street.

“H.” You dropped your phone and cried as you saw him faster approach you.

Definitely a moment worthy of a romcom.

Harry was probably living his Ryan Gosling dreams.

“Baby, hey. I’m here. You’re okay.” Harry sank down to the floor and scooped his arms around you, pulling you close and squeezing oh so tight.

He sank down to his bum and leaned against the wall, pulling your entirely onto his lap. Too close wasn’t an option right now.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you sat sideways on his lap. Your face was tucked under his chin and his head rested on top of yours. You cried as Harry held you tight.

You couldn’t see Harry’s facial expressions but he was breathing out sighs of relief, some tears in his own eyes from the adrenaline of trying to find you. He had been just as scared as you, but had to remain strong for you. Now he had you he could let it all out.

“You’re never going to the toilet alone again.” Harry laughed. You laughed back.

“Deal.”

“That was scary.” Harry kind of mumbled, but you heard him anyways. He kissed your head a few times and you melted at the feel.

“Harry.”

“Yeah, love?”

“My head is so dizzy.”

Harry used a hand to tilt your head up so he could see your face. He noticed your mascara ridden face first of all, but beneath that you were all beauty.

“Tequila is only our friend for two rounds, remember?” He laughed at you. He was able to tell from your eyes that you weren’t exceedingly drunk, but definitely tipsy.

“I did not remember.”

He nuzzled his nose against yours as he shook his head with a grin. “You’re such a handful, you.”

“M’sorry.” You pouted.

“Never said I didn’t love you as a handful.”

“Do you? Love me a handful?” You used a hand to stroke over his cheek that had gotten so scruffy with the stubble he was trying to grow.

“‘Course. Love you every way and anyway. Love you so much. Love you until my body literally decomposes my wedding ring off my finger, and then some more.”

“That was dark, even for a 2AM drunk thought.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Harry chuckled, noticing that smile on your face becoming more and more permanent.

“But I’ll love you for the same.” You promised.

Harry kissed you then, not wasting another moment of this evening away from you. Well, morning now. His lips were soft against yours and you smiled into the kiss, happy that he was here with you even if it was under really weird circumstances.

“Let’s go, trouble. We’ll go back to the hotel and I’ll kiss you all night.”

“Don’t you want to spend the rest of your night with the boys? You know, last night as a free man?” Even though you were suggesting this, all you actually wanted to do was kiss, kiss and kiss him.

“Free man?” Harry furrowed his eyebrows with disgust, “What are you talking about?”

“You know? People say the last night before they get married is their last chance to be free?”

“Why would I need to be free when I’ve got you? I’m choosing you, like I always have. Never needed to be free.”

You smiled warmly at him. “I’m shackling you to me for life.”

“Too right you are, baby. Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Now, take me home, trouble.” You giggled.

“Oh. So I’m the trouble now?”

liked by gemmastyles and 682,928 others

yourinstagram tomorrow i get your last name forever <3 p.s. i would like to state that harry bought himself that tshirt :)

view all 78,977 comments

harryfan1 oh to be y/n l/n

jeffezoff Where did you two go?

harryfan2 moustacherry fans rrIISEEEEE

harryfan3 wish my bf supported me with tshirts like that

jamescorden Tequila anyone?

harrystyles I am planning on wearing that tshirt tomorrow.

yourinstagram @/harrystyles the tshirt but nothing else please

gemmastyles @/jamescorden They aren’t coming back for tequila….

[flimsy-roost]

I realized the other day that the reason I didn't watch much TV as a teenager (and why I'm only now catching up on late aughts/early teens media that I missed), is because I literally didn't understand how to use our TV. My parents got a new system, and it had three remotes with a Venn diagram of functions. If someone left the TV on an unfamiliar mode, I didn't know how to get back to where I wanted to be, so I just stopped watching TV on my own altogether.

I explained all this to my therapist, because I didn't know if this was more related to my then-unnoticed autism, or to my relationship with my parents at the time (we had issues less/unrelated to neurodivergency). She told me something interesting.

In children's autism assessments, a common test is to give them a straightforward task that they cannot reasonably perform, like opening an overtight jar. The "real" test is to see, when they realize that they cannot do it on their own, if they approach a caregiver for help. Children that do not seek help are more likely to be autistic than those that do.

This aligns with the compulsory independence I've noticed to be common in autistic adults, particularly articulated by those with lower support needs and/or who were evaluated later in life. It just genuinely does not occur to us to ask for help, to the point that we abandon many tasks that we could easily perform with minor assistance. I had assumed it was due to a shared common social trauma (ie bad experiences with asking for help in the past), but the fact that this trait is a childhood test metric hints at something deeper.

My therapist told me that the extremely pathologizing main theory is that this has something to do with theory of mind, that is doesn't occur to us that other people may have skills that we do not. I can't speak for my early childhood self, or for all autistic people, but I don't buy this. Even if I'm aware that someone else has knowledge that I do not (as with my parents understanding of our TV), asking for help still doesn't present itself as an option. Why?

My best guess, using only myself as a model, is due to the static wall of a communication barrier. I struggle a lot to make myself understood, to articulate the thing in my brain well enough that it will appear identically (or at least close enough) in somebody else's brain. I need to be actively aware of myself and my audience. I need to know the correct words, the correct sentence structure, and a close-enough tone, cadence, and body language. I need draft scripts to react to possible responses, because if I get caught too off guard, I may need several minutes to construct an appropriate response. In simple day-to-day interactions, I can get by okay. In a few very specific situations, I can excel. When given the opportunity, I can write more clearly than I am ever capable of speaking.

When I'm in a situation where I need help, I don't have many of my components of communication. I don't always know what my audience knows. I don't have sufficient vocabulary to explain what I need. I don't know what information is relevant to convey, and the order in which I should convey it. I don't often understand the degree of help I need, so I can come across inappropriately urgent or overly relaxed. I have no ability to preplan scripts because I don't even know the basic plot of the situation.

I can stumble though with one or two deficiencies, but if I'm missing too much, me and the potential helper become mutually unintelligible. I have learned the limits of what I can expect from myself, and it is conceptualized as a real and physical barrier. I am not a runner, so running a 5k tomorrow does not present itself as an option to me. In the same way, if I have subconscious knowledge that an interaction is beyond my capability, it does not present itself as an option to me. It's the minimum communication requirements that prevent me from asking for help, not anything to do with the concept of help itself.

Maybe. This is the theory of one person. I'm curious if anyone else vibes with this at all.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Play Nice

Summary: The reader knows she’s in it when Michael grabs her off the street. What she doesn’t understand though is what he’s up to and why he’s so unusually kind at times...

Pairing: Michael!Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,800ish

Warnings: language, Michael being his usual creepy self

____

“Hello Y/N,” said Michael. You sat up on your bed, glaring daggers at him. He smiled, looking down at his shoes. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Wait,” you said, Michael smirking as he lifted his head.

“Yes, little one?” he asked. You sighed, staring up at him through your lashes. “Speak.”

“I want out of this basement,” you said.

“But as you previously said, you have all that you need here. You are not tired nor thirsty nor hungry. No harm could ever come to you here,” he smiled.

“I’m not an idiot,” you said.

“I never said you were.”

“You won. You won the second you grabbed me. So let’s get on with it, alright?” you asked. He nodded, lifting his chin up at you. He walked over to you, grabbing your right wrist gently. Something tingled in your arm. It wasn’t painful, just sensation. When he pulled it away, you saw a mark on your skin. “What’s this?”

“The beginning of our partnership,” he said. He snapped his fingers and you were in a kitchen, beautiful and clean and Michael walked behind you slowly. “The mark is like a tether. It pulls you to me and me to you. Not literally but you get the idea.”

“No running away?” you asked.

“No. Well you can but I’ll find you,” he said.

“What exactly is it that you want Michael? Besides my cooperation?” you asked.

“In time. For now, your cooperation is all I ask,” he said. He spun around. “This home is to your liking. I know what you desire with Dean and I think this satisfies. There is a vehicle for you out front and the town is only fifteen minutes away. Come and go as you please.”

“So I go from the little basement to no curfew? What gives?” you asked.

“You’re mine now,” he said with a shrug. “I feel as though...kindness will go farther with you than fear. But to be clear, there is room for both.”

“And if I try to contact Sam or anyone, you hurt Dean, is that right?”

“Quite correct. See? You’re not an idiot,” he said. You scowled, Michael walking back to you and touching your cheek. “He is safe in a dream. I’ve chosen not to harm him. Remember that.”

“You’re still not the good guy,” you said.

“Never claimed I was,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

He disappeared in front of you and you threw up your hands.

“I need money for stuff genius!” you said. You saw a credit card appear on the counter, your eyes looking all around. “Brownies?”

A plate of them appeared on the counter as well.

“Dean?”

A piece of paper popped up and you frowned when you lifted it up.

Don’t push it. Now stop asking unless it’s urgent.

You pouted and took a bite of the brownie.

“These are actually really good,” you mumbled. “You’re still an asshole though.”

One Week Later

You were getting ready for the day when mid way through washing your face, Michael appeared behind you.

“Fuck, Michael!” you shouted, trying to cover yourself up and forgetting about the soap. “Ah, ow, ow.”

“It’s a wonder your species has even made it this far,” he said, the pain in your eyes gone, your face wiped clean as he moved his hand around. You crossed your arms over your chest, Michael looking you over in your bra and underwear. “You do know I have access to Dean’s memories. I have seen you naked.”

“I know you’re a creepy guy and everything but could you be a little less creepy and get out of the bathroom!” you said.

“Don’t dwaddle,” he said, exiting the room. You sighed and finished getting dressed, down the stairs within ten minutes, Michael staring out the back window. “I thought I said don’t dwaddle.”

“I thought I said to stop being a creeper,” you said, putting your hands on your hips. “What do you want?”

“To touch your soul,” he said, looking over his shoulder.

“Considering I know that’ll hurt like a bitch, I’m gonna go ahead and say no,” you said, backing up and bumping straight into Michael’s chest. He rested his hands on your shoulders, your body tensing.

“This can be unpleasant for you or it can be pleasant. It’s your choice,” he said.

“W-What’s the pleasant version?” you asked.

“Close your eyes,” he said. You swallowed hard and did what he said. It wasn’t as though you had any choice. He rested a hand on top of your head and reached his other one around to your chest. “Take a deep breath and hold it.”

You inhaled and sealed your lips together, a warmth spreading throughout you before you felt his hand on your chest push in. It wasn’t painful but it felt so strange. 

“Alright,” said Michael after a moment, pulling his hands away. He walked in front of you, giving you a smirk. “You can breathe, little one.”

You let out a lungful of air, running your hand over your body. 

“No pain?” he asked.

“No,” you said. “What’d you do to me?”

“Not everything is about you, Y/N.”

“You’re a bitchy little angel, aren’t you,” you said. Michael smiled at you before you were pushed back against the wall, Michael staring you down.

“Congratulations, you just earned your first punishment,” he said. You frowned, the room suddenly much cooler. You looked down, only your bra and underwear on. “It seemed to bother you earlier. Sometimes subtly is the best approach.”

“If you want to make me have your nephilim-”

“No. No, Y/N. I do not desire one of those. You were disrespectful towards me so now am I returning it in kind,” he said.

“It’s still fucked up,” you said. He leaned back and spun around, a smirk on his face. Suddenly your clothes were back, Michael nodding. 

“Is that more to your liking?”

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “This is...”

You stared down at your shirt, cocking your head at Michael.

“Michael’s pet? Really?” you asked as you read the shirt.

“Behave and maybe we’ll upgrade that to partner someday,” he chuckled. “Stay out of the study for the day. I will be busy.”

He left without a word and you threw your head back. 

You liked it better when he stayed the hell away from you.

“Michael,” you said, knocking on the door to the study late that night. “Michael.”

“Yes, little one?” he asked as he opened the door. 

“My soul earlier...I feel funny,” you said. You weren’t expecting any compassion or anything of the sort. But you had a feeling he didn’t want you keeling over on him. 

“Funny how?” he asked, placing a hand against your forehead. “You are not ill.”

“I feel so tired,” you said.

“Well that is because I tapped into the power of your soul,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“You are my true vessel’s soulmate. Your soul is...I’ve never been as powerful as since I began to be near you. Touching your soul today has helped me even further,” he said.

“Awesome,” you said, turning around and falling to the floor.

You woke up in your bedroom, Michael sitting on the edge, running his hand over your head.

“Don’t,” you whined.

“I am healing you, imbecile. Stay still. I don’t have to do this at all,” he said, returning to the calm motion, your body feeling better the longer he did it.

“You’re still evil,” you grumbled, tucking your covers around yourself.

“Everyone is capable of being evil, Y/N. All I ask is for a power up on occasion. That is all,” he said.

“I want Dean back,” you said.

“Dean is gone.”

“What do you mean Dean’s gone?” you said, pushing his hand away as you sat up.

“I mean, Dean is in heaven.”

You stared at him, Michael giving it right back until you jumped on top of him, wrestling Michael to the ground.

“You son of-”

“He’s not dead,” said Michael, pinning you to the floor with a snarl. “I made an arrangement with him. Temporary control of his body and he would relocate to a location capable of holding his soul.”

“You killed him you-” 

“I am not the villain of this story. You may think I am but I am not. My father is and you know damn well I am right,” he said.

“You-”

“No. I didn’t,” said Michael, pulling you up and pulling you into his lap.

“Yes you did,” you said, Michael running a hand up and down your back. “Lemme go.”

“Dean made me promise,�� grumbled Michael. “To take care of you when you discovered the truth.”

“Fuck you,” you said.

“Our deal was extensive. You have no idea what is even going on, do you,” he said.

“You killed my boyfriend and soulmate and you kidnapped me and-”

“No, little one. My job is to protect you,” he said.

“Are you insane? You’re the bad guy!” you shouted at him.

“Oh, I am a bad guy. I’m not the bad guy. My father is far far worse and he needs to go,” he said. “Why do you think no one has come looking for you? They are all hiding or in heaven. Chuck cares nothing for you and you give me more power than he’ll be expecting. You’re going to help me defeat him.”

“And when it’s all over, you’re going to hop out of Dean and go on your way?” you scoffed.

“I didn’t say that. This universe will need a new God and I do like this body. I was the lesser of two evils,” he said.

“Fine. We beat Chuck and then you’re going to get the hell out of Dean,” you said.

“We’ll see about that,” chuckled Michael. You turned your head away, Michael still rubbing his hand up and down your back. “Are you finished feeling sad now?”

“No,” you said. Michael suddenly stood up with you, sitting down on the bed and putting your covers back over top of you.

“Sleep,” said Michael, putting his hand on your forehead. “The sooner you get used to this, the better.”

______

[iouinotes]

Show-off | Mike Ross

pairing: Mike Ross x female!reader

show: Suits

genre: smut word count: 2,9k

summary: you and your co-worker Mike dont get along very well. But when you have something that he needs, suddenly everything is different.

a/n: Just watched the first two episodes of "Suits" and something about Mike is really attractive-

Working in a well-known office as a lawyer has it's advantages. Such as being respected by business people or being able to afford a lot of things, you spend all your evenings analyzing documents rather than meeting actual people.

Nevertheless, sometimes there are also negative factors. For example, my co-worker Mike, who really believes, that he is with his ridiculously skinny tie and sarcastic humor better than the others. Or right now, better than me.

"God, I cant believe you. Can you behave for once?" I use my fingers to push my hair back in frustration, noticing how my head starts to hurt. Its 10 pm and I'm currently trying to stay calm, though because of one man in particular, my nerves seem to be getting thinner within seconds. Valuable time is wasted that I could spend somewhere else instead of with him.

"Now it's my fault, that you don't have the documents with you? Sorry, I can't help you being organized in your own workplace." His voice irritates me. Everything about him is so frustrating.

"I told you, I didnt get the message! How am I supposed to know, that you need something, when you don't tell me anything about it? Maybe you should stop being so childish and ask me in the first place, instead of running to Rachel!" If our job had nothing to do with justice and we werent literally standing in a law company right now, I would kill him. And then I wouldn't hesitate to go to court and say it was self-defense, because I didnt want to hear any of his miserable excuses anymore.

"So what do you think, I should do? I need these documents for tomorrow. Please, I know you don't like me, but it is really urgent." Why does he has such blue eyes? The look he is going me is even more irritating than his voice.

I sign, exhibit my laptop and try to put the pens back, that are laying all over my desk.

"Okay, fine. As I said, the documents are at home, so-" I don´t even get to finish my sentence.

"Great, so I'll meet you there. And I wont even tell anyone, if your place is a mess." His eyes wander over my messy desk, and even If I don´t like to admit it, it's a bad habit of mine. But, he shouldn't make any assumptions about the neatness in my apartment.

"I hope you loose the documents on your way home." At my words, he grins smugly.

"Well, then I could lie and say you didnt found them anymore and I hadnt had the chance to go through them." He leans towards me.

"I'll run you over with my car." He raises his eyebrows at my threat.

"You sure should do something that makes you smile more often. Is that even something you know how to do?" I show him my middle finger and turn to left my office. When I close the door, I hear the laughter in his voice.

"The next storm should be named after you as quickly as you left the room." He follows after me.

"Can you shut up for once? Oh, I forgot. You don´t last one second being silent. Thats a shame, the world could finally heal." His hand rests on his heart, his features fake a hurt expression.

"Ouch. You really don´t like me that much, huh?" His eyes try to search mine.

"You get on my nerves on purpose every fucking day. Should I thank you for that?" I turn my head to look at him.

"Yes, you should. Your life would be so boring without me." He grins at me again from the side, that typical grimace that is always adorn on his face.

"You wish." When I tell him my address, he raises his eyebrows, but before he can make an unfavorable comment, I get into my car.

Darkness surrounds me and when I see him going away, I lower my head to the steering wheel. He really is the best at confusing my emotions.

~~~~~

I turn off the lights of my car and get out of it, so I can finally make my way to my flat. Its not something special, I mean I have a living room, which is quite big and connected to the kitchen, a bedroom and a bath. But I am very lucky, because I have a small balcony, from which I can watch the stars at night. But I usually only do that when I can't sleep.

So, when I enter my apartment, I let my eyes wander over the manageable mess, I put some clothes back in the closet and the dishes in the washing machine. The place almost looks decent, when I hear the doorbell.

As I open the door, I'm nervous for some reason. I let him in and turn to my office drawers, looking for the document.

"Nice place. You live here alone?" His fingers trace my bookshelf, I see him reading the titles.

"No, my wife is still at work." When I look at him dead serious, I see him laugh in surprise.

"So, you do have humor. I thought, you were one of those exceptions that wouldn't be able to do that." He means it as a joke, but something in my chest hurts.

When I reply with a monotonous voice, I see his eyebrows pull together. "I live here alone. That's what you wanted to hear?" I'm getting more frustrated again with every second he's around me.

"No- I didnt mean it that way. I'm sorry. My intentions were good, I promise." When I look at him for a moment, I see his honest expression.

It would be so easier for me to hate him, if I didnt know, he was a good human. Well, most of the time.

We are silent for a moment, but when I hear his footsteps, I tense up.

"What are you doing?" He's now standing right next to me.

"Helping you. You seem a little, tense?" I glare at him for a moment and he raises his hands in defense.

"Just pointed out the obvious. But dont worry. You still look lovely." I stop in my movements at his words.

"Thats such shock for you?" His voice shows surprise and a certain curiosity.

"Only that you say it." I look into his eyes.

"Well, you may think I'm dumb, but I'm not blind."

He just called me beautiful, sort of. It´s confusing me.

When I finally find the documents, I hold my hand out to him.

"I don´t think you are dumb. I think you're annoying. And a show-off. I don´t like that." His eyes follow me.

"What do you like then?" His question surprises me. He slowly takes the documents out of my hand, his finger gently brushing mine.

"I don´t think that is any of your business." I try to clear my voice. His touch makes me shiver.

"Come on, tell me. Would that be so bad?" His whole presence is making me nervous and I feel my hands start to shake.

At work, I can always hide behind a mask, pretend that nothing he does affects me. I can act like I truly hate him, even though I catch myself looking at him, from time to time. Especially when he shows off his intelligence without realizing it, impresses his clients and -I would never admit it- me too. It's a certain charm about him, the way he always knows how to answer, while being mischievous and clever about it.

But now, that he's in my apartment and so close to me, it's suddenly different. And I don't know how to react to him being nice.

"I look for someone who isnt afraid of commitment. Someone who is honest and kind, but who also challenges me. I want to feel safe, so I can put my trust not only in myself."

He nods and is quiet for a moment, I begin to feel stupid for telling him all of that, when he responds.

"I get that. Someone whose shoulder you can lean on when things get too much. Someone who meets your needs, who wants to be in your life. For longer than a one-night stand." He smiles at me and I see for the first time, why I possibly could like him.

"Also, statistics show higher rates of being robbed or kidnapped, when you have one-night stands." This remark almost makes me laugh, even though it's frightening.

"Well, who would even notice, if I would disappear? Probably only my clients, because they need me." I lower my head, being completely honest with him for the first time.

"I would notice."

When I look at him, he takes a step towards me. His fingers gently slide over my shoulder and brush my hair aside, the touch makes a warm feeling bloom in my chest.

"I couldn't annoy you anymore. My life would be pretty boring without you. And it's not so bad to be able to look at such a pretty face every day, even if it always looks at me annoyed, like all the time." I quietly laugh at that, feeling surprisingly good because of his compliment.

We look at each other, now being really close. My eyes travel to his lips and I don´t even know how it happens, but suddenly he is all over me. His lips on mine, his hands on my waist, lifting me up to sit me on the desk. I moan softly when his hands tangle in my hair and he pushes himself closer to me, so that he's standing between my legs. One of his hands gently wraps around my neck and I feel my loud pulse.

My hands move too, stroking his back and holding him closer to me by his tie. As he pulls his lips away from me, he lifts my chin with his finger. Now, looking down at me with widen pupils. I hold his eye contact, forgetting all about my issues with him, when he speaks to me with a deep voice (which I suddenly don´t think sounds irritating anymore).

"Be angry at me tomorrow and mine for tonight. I bet, all your frustration from work and your thin nerves can catch a break, what do you say?"

Not much. Because I pull him towards me by his tie and kiss him again. I don't want to stop at all anymore. He returns the kiss with the same enthusiasm and his hands find their way to my waist again to lift me up again. When he crosses the living room with quick steps and lays me down on the sofa, I already feel out of breath and clearly turned on.

His kisses become more intense, his lips move from my mouth to my neck, leaving marks there. But it feels too good to make him stop.

"I will gladly hear your excuses, when someone asks you about your hickeys tomorrow. Because you will be all flustered, when you think again about this moment. Where you are ready to be fucked by your colleague, who you despise so much." I whimper as he pushes up my dress and his hands pull my tights down to my knees. The cold air hits my skin, but I don't really notice it, because his lips are on my neck again and his fingers connect first with my stomach and then further down. I hold my breath as his lips touch my ear and his fingers stroke my folds.

"So wet for me. Didnt think, I would turn you on this much." I kiss him to shut him up.

"You are-" I moan, when he finally puts a finger in me. "-so annoying." He laughs at me.

"Am I? But you seem to like it." I feel myself getting wetter, his fingers feel so good as they move gently but firmly inside me. One of his hands moves to push my dress further up and somehow, he manages to pull it over my head. Now, I'm lying in front of him in just a bra, his hands slowly find their way over my body and to my back, which I lift slightly so that he can open the clasp.

When I lie naked in front of him and he massages my breasts, his lips touch mine and his fingers stimulate me, I feel like I'm in heaven.

He breaks apart, so he can look at me and I draw my eyebrows together, when his fingers increase in speed. My mouth opens and the sounds that escape me echo in the apartment.

"I'm- god, I think I am going to come-" at that he starts to tease me, going slower but a lot deeper. My eyes almost roll back as he hits a certain spot inside me.

"That feels good? What do you say, when you want something?" You stupid idiot.

"You stupid-" I begin to say as his lips graze my nipple and his finger scissor and stretch me out further.

"One word, darling. Say it." And because I feel this knot inside me (and maybe this side of him turns me on, like a lot), I finally open my mouth to please him.

"Please, Mike. I-I need to-" My sentence is cut off as his fingers speed up and I moan loudly.

"Thats a good girl, you can be so good to me, if I make you." His lips search mine as I finally come. My breathing is heavy and when I come down from my high and look at his face, I see the satisfied expression.

"You are done-" I can't maintain my strict facial expression and suddenly have to start smiling. His eyes widen in surprise and I raise my eyebrows, still smiling softly.

"What?" I quietly laugh at his expression.

"Nothing, its just- I have never seen you smiling so happy." I roll my eyes gently. As I look at him closer now, I see the bulge in his pants and the loosened tie. As I lean forward, his eyes shift to my body.

"You still are fully clothed. A bit unfair, don't you think?" I watch him swallow and my hands move to his chest to slowly unbutton his shirt. As I also remove the tie and slip the shirt from his shoulders, I sit myself on his lap. Rocking my hips forward and seeing his eyes close. His hands move to my hips and begin to control the movements, my eyes close too and my head leans into the crook of his neck as the movements become faster.

Sighs and heavy breaths leave his lips and once again, one of his hands moves to grab my breasts, lightly grazing the nipples.

I look at him, noticing his swollen lips and his flushed cheeks. His hair is a mess and his forehead is furrowed, but he tries his best to pull himself together.

I groan as I look at him and suddenly think back to todays afternoon, when he was on a phone call and I heard how he listed one reciting fact after another, without any difficulty.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

"N-nothing" I'm definitely too embarrassed to admit how much his intelligence and the way he seems to know everything, turns me on.

One of his hands moves to my entrance and teases me by just circling around it. When I try to push myself down, he pulls his fingers away.

"You tell me, whats going on in that pretty head of yours and you'll get me." My body feels so hot, I can't think properly anymore.

"You where on a phone call today and you just- you listed without any effort every single point that will help you win the case. You just said it like- it's nothing."

When his fingers dig into me again, I bite my lips. I try to control my moans and not pay attention to the fact, that I just gave him every opportunity to make him be more complacent than his usual self.

His fingers pump into me and I feel slightly overstimulated. But I wouldnt want to stop now.

"You get off by the thought of me, saying memorized facts? Who would have thought that my intelligence would turn you on so much." God, his ego probably doesn't fit in this apartment anymore.

"Don't think too highly of yourself, you still annoy me." Now I'm really just trying to get myself out of the situation. I lean towards him, so he can't say anything anymore and pull on his blonde hair to distract him.

Moans escape my lips and when I notice that his noises are also getting louder, I pull away from him. He looks at me confused.

"I want you inside me." Thats all I say, but he quickly complies with my request. I slide off his lap and wait for him to take off his pants and boxers until he's finally on top of me again. His fingers find my bottom lip and while maintaining eye contact, I open my mouth so he can insert a finger. My tongue brushes against his and after a few moments of him pressing on my tongue, he lets his fingers move back to the spot that needs him the most.

He stretches me for a few minutes until he finally guides his cock to my hole and slowly penetrates me. My eyes close and I hear his breath in my ear as he pushes further.

"You are so tight- good thing finally someone fucks you." I nod without thinking and hear his laughter in my ear.

"You think so too, huh. Would you let anyone fuck you then?" My stomach tenses, I feel the pleasure growing again and every movement of him. This feels so good-

I try to shake my head, but I'm too lost in the sensations to pay much attention to his words.

"No? But I thought, you hate me. Why would you let me fuck you, if you don´t even like me?" His thrusts become faster and more uncontrolled, I feel him getting closer to his own high.

"I-" I try to stutter "d-don´t hate you." I feel myself getting closer and reach into his hair, pulling at the roots and feeling his lips on my shoulder. His thrusts become more powerful and as he moves his hand and massages my clitoris, suddenly everything goes white in front of my eyes and I come.

I feel every inch inside of me, feel his fingers brush over the visible bulge in my stomach and think to myself: god I feel so full

When he comes too, I moan so loudly that it's impossible that my neighbors didn't hear me. His hand finds its way around my chin, he slides a finger into my mouth and I feel my vagina tighten because of it.

He hisses and his thrusts slow down until he finally pulls out of me, trying not to fall on top of me. As I give him some space next to me, he falls halfway on me, but pulls me on top of him in the next second and I can hear his strong heartbeat. With his outstretched hand he pulls the blanket over me, that had fallen to the floor.

We both try to catch our breath and as the minutes pass, only the wind outside is heard. He is the first to break the silence.

"So, you don't hate me?" I lift my head from his naked chest to look at him.

"Only sometimes." He shakes his head and smiles, gently stroking my back.

The evening went by quickly, we ordered a pizza and ate it (clothed) on the terrace. We were going over his documents for tomorrow, I blushed at the thought that this was the real reason he came here, but he just hugged me from behind after we finished and continued watching the stars.

It's not really clear what this evening means for us, but I don´t want to get into that, not yet. Because I'm not sure what it means anyway.

Because now, I have to get used to the fact that his voice no longer irritates me, that his jokes no longer annoy me and that he as a person, is actually not as bad as I imagined.

"Who thought, I was the one to get you relax."

But he is still a show-off.

[imaginesmai]

Taken - Azriel

This is long and this is messy. I don't know where this came out, but shoutout to @marscardigan because she requested this fic so long ago I almost forgot. Enjoy the ANGST.

This is a fic inside the baker!reader universe from Right around the corner. You don't need to read the fics to understand but it will help you!

Plot: you're taken in the worst possible situation, and Azriel fights against time to find you.

Warnings: pregnant!reader, blood, wounds, death (not main characters).

You should have closed the bakery a while ago, you knew. You should have also taken a few days off and relay on Elain a bit more. As a matter of a fact, there was a long list of things you should have done better, most of them converged in the last month, but you were busy. And stubborn.

A very busy, very stubborn, very pregnant baker who was closing the bakery way too late.

You had been lucky that morning when you had won the first argument. It was Nyx birthday in a few days, and the boy wanted a special cake with the shadows of his uncle. And you had been working on it even if you were supposed to be on house arrest, only because Azriel was with you at all given time.

But that day, your mate had a meeting and he couldn’t stay with you, so originally you weren’t supposed to go. Originally. Since Azriel loved Nyx as much as you, he had agreed to leave you at the bakery on your own and not chain you to bed.

You hoped that agreement was still valid if he discovered how late it was.

“Alright” you muttered, looking down at the cake with your hands resting on your swollen belly. “I think it’s coming just fine, huh? One more floor and it’ll be the event of the year”

The cake had a base covered in black chocolate, small curls that simulated shadows coming from the bottom. You had already finished the worst part, and had the rest of the shadows ready in the oven for tomorrow.

While you admired your work, you rubbed your hands absentmindedly across your stomach. At the beginning on the third trimester, you looked ready to give birth. Maybe it was because of the wings, or maybe the baby already took upon his father’s size.

“I hope your tastes are less expensive than your cousin’s” you said, smiling when your rubs were answered by a strong kick. “That didn’t feel like agreeing”

The shadows that were already yours pushed you once more to the door, like they had been doing for the past hours, since the sun came down. Raising your hands up in defeat, you took the first step back home.

“Alright, I’m going. I’m going” you chuckled as they pressed more urgently now that you started walking. “I’m fine, it’s late but I’m finishing. Promise to put my feet up when I get home”

Talking with the shadows and with your baby was as common as talking to yourself. Just as Azriel, you seemed to understand what they wanted to tell you. You endured their constant tugging and pulling as you closed off the bakery.

Only when the door was locked and you turned to take the few steps to your house, you realized just how late it was.

“Oh” you blinked, looking around you. The babe sent another, softer kick.

The street was empty, the night silent. Not even the few cats that purred in the shadows happened to be there that night. Even though it was a summer night, you wrapped your arms around yourself as you put the key on your pocket and took the already usual wobbly steps.

At any given moment, you liked to think, you would have been more aware. Azriel had trained you for it, his family had too in the last years. But still, that one time you would have used any of that training, you couldn’t.

Your hand only made it to the knock of your door when the faebane arrow went clean through your shoulder. A clothe covered your mouth as the few shadows tried to blind whoever was behind you, not given you any time to scream or call for help. Gripping onto the last thread of consciousness, you tugged on the bond.

-

The meeting was taking far longer than what he would have liked.

It was supposed to be easy, to talk the problems out and to let Keir go with a warning. That was why Rhysand had asked him to come along, so that his shadows would snoop around while the male was busy. Because, if the high lord had known it would take so long, he wouldn’t have dared to separate Azriel from you.

Since you both solved your last argument, things had gotten better. He was ready to give himself to you, to become a better man for you and to be what you needed. And seven months ago, it had kept going – you were pregnant, with his child.

And if Azriel thought you were beautiful before, watching your body swell with a new life, watching you become a mother, made you perfect. The thought of you and your future child was what kept him put during hours.

He had known you were at the bakery alone; had known he was supposed to be home before dinner. But he waited, because he didn’t have a reason not to. Azriel felt a tug at the bond during the meeting, and sent a reassuring pull back.

He waited, until Keir left and he put a foot out of Hewn City. Cassian was waiting for them with his arms crossed, his back to their brothers.

“Missed us much?” Rhysand teased, letting himself smile for the first time in that day. “Is staying with – what’s wrong?”

Cassian turned around and his face fell. Azriel recognized earlier than Rhysand the fall of his shoulders, the slump on his wings. There was tension and pain written all over his face. His spymaster-mind ran over a few possibilities before his brother locked eyes with him – an attack to Velaris, an update about Beron’s plans, the revolution in the human’s lands. He even had time to worry about Nyx.

Then, he locked eyes and his breath got stuck in his throat.

“What?” he blurted out. The look on Cassian’s face threatened to swallow him down a spiral of panic. “Cassian, what?”

“What happened?” Rhysand asked, although he was already reading the general’s mind.

“Y/N’s been taken. Don’t know where yet or why” the general spoke, without dropping Azriel’s burning gaze. “I’ve got guards up in the sky and through Velaris”

“Taken?” the high lord asked again, frowning.

“Your shadows came into the wind house, somehow… Nyx knows. He told us what they saw. We are looking for her already, don’t panic. We will find her”

Rhysand could see through Cassian’s eyes, the burst of Azriel’s shadows and a crying Nyx in his room, waking him up. His son telling him about the shadows warning him in his sleep, asking the general if it was true and why they said that.

He looked at Azriel, who looked as pale as the bone wall behind them. The Illyrian tried to come up with something to say, just as he had done in so many similar occasions. It was him who remained calm when Rhysand went under the mountain, when Nyx’s life was threatened just after he was born. Azriel made plans, he was a skilled warrior.

Still, he could only tug on the bond and horrify at the emptiness that came back.

“I can’t feel her” he confessed, finally looking away from Cassian to Rhysand. “Why? Why can’t I feel her?”

“She isn’t dead” his brother answered immediately. “You would know. It’s the faebane, you won’t feel her if they have used it. Cassian, what do we know?”

“No smells, no traces. Bakery was empty and her apartment too. They must have taken her in between”

“Who would fucking take a pregnant woman?” Azriel blurted out. “She’s pregnant. She’s – fuck! In between? It’s – it’s two steps! There’s no space in between!”

“What else?” Rhysand ignored him.

“They sent a note”

Azriel’s panic died down for a moment when Cassian handed his high lord the note. He quickly snatched it away. Barely able to keep in place, he turned his back to his brothers and shamelessly used his shadows in his favor.

He heard his name being called, felt Rhysand demanding to be let in. His own power wasn’t a match for the high lord’s, but it would keep them out enough to read the note.

One of the first rules he applied when it came to kidnappings was to keep the family and loved ones out of it. They didn’t think clearly, and without wanting to, could endanger the victim. But it wasn’t just a person, it was you.

So, ignoring his own rules, he opened the note.

If you want Y/N and the baby safe, the spymaster will present himself at the given coordinates before sunrise. Impaled with faebane and with no hidden tricks. Once we deem so, we will deliver the girl in Windhaven.

Each hour past sunrise will be paid. Don’t be late.

We do not appreciate being hunted.

There were words, that made sentences, and that should have made sense. But all Azriel could see was your name, the word baby, and feel his chest tighten. That wasn’t a clue, there was no way they would find them before sunrise and bring you home to him. Right then, he understood why they kept family out of those types of matters.

The note was snatched out of his hands by a very angry looking Rhysand, with a pained Cassian behind his back.

As Rhysand read the note, Azriel let himself have a moment of sorrow. He turned every emotion upside down, explored them instead of refusing to acknowledge. For years, he had feared the possibility of you being taken from his side. There would be time to panic once he had you in his arms, to worry about the baby once he could touch your belly once more and check your pulse and breathing.

Azriel tugged on the bond once more, feeling the crushing emptiness back. There was nothing, and he was threatened to become nothing too. Instead, he tugged on the faint, thin bond that was still developing. It was barely a thread of your own, fragile but promising.

The bond with your child had been the cause of your discovery. One day it was only the two of you, and then Azriel felt something else. He tugged on that and, even if he didn’t receive anything back, he knew.

“They’re in the mountains” he looked at his brothers. “Can’t say where, but far from Windhaven”

“How are you sure?” Cassian asked, but Rhysand smiled knowingly. Sadly.

“The other bond. You shouldn’t pull too hard, Az. It’s – “

“I won’t. But I’m not letting one second go if I can find her” Azriel cut him off with a hard look. “You’re wasting your time in Velaris”

“Don’t you dare, Az”

Cassian words were lost in the wind as he winnowed away, Rhysand barely touching his forearm. He knew he shouldn’t tug on the bond so soon in his child’s life, that it would only put him at risk. Risk an early labor, risk your discomfort. But if it meant it would take him back to you, he would rip the word apart piece by piece.

-

You didn’t know how, but after all those years, all those good memories built that replaced the bad ones, you just knew. You recognized the painted walls, the stains on the ground, and the smell from the fire.

Nothing had changed over the centuries that had passed by, you realized. The tavern was just as terrible as it had been, just as dirty. They were just as tall and broad as they were, although not that many. And you were that scared girl that they ripped their wings from, tucked into a corner.

While they stared at you, you only hug your belly and tried to keep your tears at bay.

You had woken up a while ago, and they had only whispered between them. From what you had gathered, they didn’t expect the pregnancy, and were worried about it. The one who had clipped your wings so long ago wasn’t around, thanks to Azriel, but you recognized their faces.

You also recognized the blood stains on the ground and walls, courtesy of your mate and probably the reason you were in that position.

“It has closed” one of them broke the silence, frowning. “Why has it closed so soon? We just took it out”

“Must be the babe” the taller one, whom you remembered to be called Sandor, shrugged.

“It’s the third time – “

“All right, girl, you already know to stay put” Sandor sighed, as if it was a simple routine.

You refused to talk, refused to anger them just like you had done in the past and pay for your actions. It wasn’t just your life in the game, and right then, your priority wasn’t it.

With only the moon light through the window, Sandor knelt in front of you and grabbed a clean arrow. Two bloodied ones were discarded on the ground, ripped out of your shoulder and arm. Apparently, they didn’t want to risk you healing around the arrow, in case it would somehow affect the baby.

That didn’t mean they weren’t willing to stick another one once the wound was closed and there was a chance of Azriel feeling you through the bond.

For a moment, Sandor hesitated. It was clear that he wasn’t comfortable about your belly or the situation. Hurting you to get Azriel might had been fine, but hurting pregnant-you was debatable.

“Just do it, man. You might already ring the bells and light a bonfire” the nameless one snapped.

“Do you want to do it?” Sandor turned around on his knees. “Clyde, I’ve got a pregnant woman at home. And she looks ready to burst”

“It’s not your woman, it’s his. Do you want to stare at what used to be Burton?” Clyde pointed to the darkest stain. “Tell him if he wants to consider, take his time”

As they argued, you finally felt it. A tug, a breeze, nothing more than a feeling, but it was there. It was Azriel pulling at the bond like his life depended on it, with so much strength you were sure he was using power that wasn’t only his.

You blinked surprised at the change. It had taken you all your willpower not to panic when you woke up feeling nothing on the other side, and they hadn’t let enough time for your body to recover from the fae bane to feel it again. But as they argued, you silently cherished the discovery. Maybe it was the baby’s strength, maybe it was the cauldron leaning in your favor or any other force, but not only you were healing fast – you were getting the bond back.

Still looking at them, you tugged back. The bond went silent for a second, and you pressed against it again. You were hit with an overwhelming amount of worry, of fear but also love and relief. Azriel’s emotions became yours, and you were so glad it was about to be over that you unfocused your gaze.

It was enough for Clyde to notice your far-away look, and realize what was happening.

“Fuck, she’s warning him!” Clyde rushed forwards, taking the arrow out of Sandor’s grip. “You think you’re so smart?”

You blinked your fogginess away when he walked towards you, coming back to your senses. There wasn’t enough amount of love or assurance Azriel could send you that would stop you from panicking.

“No, wait” you pushed yourself farther into the corner as he moved closer, screaming at Azriel as loud as you could through the watered bond. “I didn’t! I didn’t!”

“You knocked-up, useless, brat” he gripped your ankle and pushed you towards him, your back and head hitting the ground. “Let’s see how you tell him this”

The momentary pain of hitting the ground wasn’t enough to drown the anguish of having a new arrow dug into your leg, just above your knee. The ceiling became blurry and his voices tuned out as you screamed in pain, your bounded hands trying aimlessly to break free.

You couldn’t remember the pain from the first one, seeing you were knocked out, and Sandor had managed to make the other one hurt less. But Clyde pushed his body weight onto your leg, the bottom of the arrow piercing the ground. You looked up and watched horrified as blood started leaking out through your pants and under your leg.

Moving away from him only caused the arrow to shift, but being near him was putting your baby close to the monster. So, in your panic, you tried to ease the pain by lifting your leg while shifting farther into the corner.

“How’s the bond now, uh? Is your pussy boy there?” he chuckled, while Sandor looked away. “Go on, tell him how bad we are”

“We should move” the third one spoke for the first time. “If he has felt her, he knows”

“You heard the boss” rough hands tried to push you up while you cried out.

“No” you repeated, letting Clyde put your whole weight up and almost collapsing after him. “Please, just let me go. Let me go”

Gone was the keep-quiet-don’t-talk. The tears kept rolling down your cheeks as Sandor stepped on your other side, holding you up a bit gentler than Clyde. Your baby started kicking on your side, and between the pain and desperation, you felt like throwing up and passing out.

Their chatter as they discussed what to do next was background noise. Certainly, they weren’t taking the arrow out that time, risk or no risk of being sealed inside and affecting the baby. You could barely stand up between your kidnappers and remember how to breath at the same time.

You wanted Azriel, that was the only thing you were certain. You shouldn’t have closed so late, you shouldn’t have gone to the bakery on your own, and you shouldn’t have gotten out of bed that morning. The baby agreed with you, answering each thought with a powerful kick to your kidneys and bladder.

You tried desperately to think about positive things, to keep yourself sane enough. Closing your eyes, you thought about him. His hazel eyes, that shone with a special light when he saw you between the crowd. His mouth, that curled up so lightly every time you stared at him. The freckles in his cheeks, that one that snuck up to the corner of his eye.

You could almost hear his voice reminding you to breath carefully and gain control of your body when the pregnancy pain hit, and you tried to do the same. Taking a deep breath through your mouth, holding it in. Letting it go through your nose.

“Oh, sure, because winnowing her again is the best solution, right?” Sandor scoffed loudly.

You moved your toes lightly, relieved to notice that despite the burning and overwhelming pain, you could still feel everything. From your feet to your head, you twitched every part of your body, finally able to breathe through the pain.

That didn’t mean you could move without them hauling you up, or that the baby was anymore happy.

“Enough! We’re moving now. Grab the things. We winnow – “ the anonymous man startled you, making you look up.

“I need to go the bathroom” you whispered, although it was heard as if you shouted it.

Three pair of eyes looked at you with raised brows, one pair certainly more annoyed than the other two. You didn’t know how far had it been since they took you, but it was still night time. During the last weeks, you had been paying a visit to your bathroom at least once every two hours.

And that was being generous.

The babe kicked again against your bladder, making your knees wobble. If you didn’t catch a bathroom, in a minute, you would have to let go.

“Sure. Do you want me run a bath too? Clyde, you could massage her feet. Is our lady tired of standing up for so long?”

“Nestor, she’s pregnant” Sandor was the only one looking slightly affected by your request. “My Lorren – “

“Your Lorren is home and we are here. Stop with Lorren!” Clyde let you go to push Sandor’s shoulders, which made you stumble back.

“I’m not carrying her if she’s gonna pee herself”

“She’s gonna be a big girl and hold it, right?” Nestor gave you a tense smile. “And you’re going to winnow her to the cabin”

“I’m not taking her to the cabin, man”

And while you stood up and waited for them to decided where to take you, you felt your bladder giving up. It wouldn’t be the first time you peed yourself, and with the strength your baby was kicking you right then, you were amazed that you managed to hold it for a few seconds.

Clyde and Nestor kept arguing loudly about the cabin, while Sandor just looked at you with a scrunched nose. You would have felt embarrassed, but you were in pain, you were scared and tired. It was hard to stay standing at any given moment with your belly. Whether it was the wings or the baby’s size, you were heavy.

The discomfort of the arrow was starting to become secondary. Even though you had just peed yourself, you still felt the kicks against your bladder – and almost against every part of your soul. You gripped the only thing available when another wave of kicks hit you, that being Sandor’s arm.

The man realized at the same time you did what was happening, although he didn’t have time to voice it out.

“Damn it!” Clyde barely missed the door coming out of its hinges. He didn’t miss the knife that embedded itself on his throat.

“Sandor, shoot him!” Nestor yelled to his friend, who was too busy keeping you off the ground now that the only support was holding his open neck. “Shoot!”

“Pathetic”

His voice was like a cold breeze in the summer, the feeling of his shadows helping you gently to stand up making your breath speed up once more.

Azriel appeared like a dark angel through the open door, his eyes not even leaving you as he stopped an arrow with his bare hand. His wings covered the moon behind him, but they didn’t stop the next figure coming through. Before Clyde hit the ground still chocking on his last breath, Rhysand had winnowed himself and Nestor out of the tavern.

You briefly wondered if death by Azriel’s hands right then would have been better than by the spymaster’s hands later.

Your mate said nothing as Sandor was ripped out of your side. Only by gripping his arm and pulling him away from you, you heard the awful crack of his arm breaking into two.

Sandor cried out, only getting a few seconds to acknowledge his arm before his left wing is ripped out of his back. Azriel’s shadows assessed your body with a sickening speed, coming to the same conclusion you had.

You were lowered softly onto the ground, silently watching what Azriel had always hidden from you. The unleveled part of him, the one that came out when someone he loved was in danger. He feared that part would take you away from him. But as you watched your mate tear Sandor to pieces, you only felt relief at his presence.

The male wasn’t done screaming for his life when he fell dead to the side. His mangled body was blocked from your view by training leathers and tearful hazel eyes. Everything he had felt during the last hours, that he had denied himself from so he would find you, crashed hard.

His scarred hands held your face while he scanned your body, stopping on your untouched belly and bleeding wound. He didn’t even flinch when he touched your soaked pants to pull it out.

The pain you were in in that moment prevented you from feeling anything more than a discomfort at the pull.

“You’re alive” Azriel cried out, not holding his tears back. “I thought – for a moment, I thought… I couldn’t feel you. And then I did, but you were gone. I didn’t know what had happened. I almost died, Y/N. You’re alive. You’re okay”

“Az” you whined, one of your hands gripping his shoulder harder than it was necessary.

“The baby’s bond… I followed it to the mountains. I know I shouldn’t, but I pulled it” he placed one hand on your belly, laughing tearfully when he felt a kick back. “I love you. I love you both so much”

There weren’t words to explain what Azriel had felt in the last few hours. How he had stumbled down into the snow when he had felt your end of the bond alive, how desperate he had been to follow it. Then, it had gone dark and if it wasn’t for Rhysand following him, he would have crashed right there.

He was glad his brother had been there, that he had taken a male away for questioning. Once you were safe and with Madja, he would make sure to take his time.

Azriel pressed a shaky, wet kiss to your forehead, then another one to your nose. He kissed each and every tear that had stained your cheeks in the past hour, finally pressing his lips against yours.

When he moved back, ready to winnow you both back to Velaris and hold you close for a week, he was surprised to see new tears running down your cheeks. What he thought was terror for the kidnapping, the anguish of your captors, hadn’t left your face.

“What’s wrong?” he frowned, leaving his own despair for later and looking back at your body.

“Az” you repeated.

You had realized what was happening before him, had known just before Sandor. His shadows couldn’t possibly understand what was happening, and so, Azriel didn’t. Any pain you had felt during that night paled away from the complete, absolute fear the crippled you as you stared at your mate in that dark tavern, where your worst memories had taken place.

“I’m here” he reminded you, his hand caressing the belly. “Where does it –“

“It’s coming” you finally admitted, watching the realization hitting him. “The baby’s coming”

It had felt like peeing yourself, like normal kicks, you guessed. What had given it away was crippling, motherly realization that your baby wanted out. That bond that had connected you to it was more present than ever, and somehow, you knew.

Azriel paled even more if that was possible. Right there, sitting in the dirty, bloodied and now empty tavern, your water had broken. You wanted to break down crying, because of course, given your history your baby would choose that moment.

When Azriel didn’t say anything, you lip wobbled again. Because, if he didn’t have the answers, who would?

“It’s coming” you said again, feeling like a broken record. “What do we do? What -?”

“I’ll winnow us to Velaris” Azriel interrupted you, knowing the answer before saying it.

“Madja said we can’t” you reminded him, although he already knew. “Oh God. Az, it’s coming. What do we do? I’m having a baby. I’m having a baby!”

Indeed, one of the first things Madja had advised you against was winnowing while pregnant. So close to the date, it would only trigger an early labor – and on the date, it would be dangerous to the baby and you. Rhysand would be back in Velaris by then, probably thinking you two were just fine and happy together once more.

And winnowing away to warn him and bring someone was out of the equation, since he wouldn’t be leaving you for a while now.

So Azriel gathered himself together and gave you a hesitant smile.

“We can do it” Azriel whispered, not sure of the truth behind his words.

“What?”

“I’m not leaving you. We’re here together, and we can do it. Madja told us what it’s like” Azriel tried to sound confident for you, for the both of you, but it came out as a question.

“We’re having a baby”

“We’re having a baby”

The first rays of sun entered through the empty space where the door was as you stared into his eyes. You could risk winnowing back and losing the baby and your life, or you could send away Azriel and hope he made it in time back with Madja or any other healer. Neither of those options felt like surviving to you, so you nodded at him and willed that tear to be the last one.

Azriel leaned in and kissed you softly. His lips were salty, from his tears or your own, and kind. While his shadows brushed every available part of your body, you let yourself forget about the closing wound, about the trembling of your knees and the pain in your belly.

Kissing him would always feel like the first time, like fireworks and Starfall. His nosed brushed your own and his tongue deepened the kiss. One of his hands cupped the back of your head, the hair there already covered in sweat. Even it was cold with the morning breeze, you were ready to get out of your body.

The kiss ended way too soon, just as another kick, or contraction, hit you harder than before. You sucked a breath and almost stumbled to the ground.

Azriel was quick to roll his sleeves up, lowering you until you were laying on the ground. Looking up at him, he gave you reassuring smile and hesitant nod.

“We’re having a baby” he squeezed your shoulder.

You tried to smile as another contraction hit and the first scream broke the silent morning.

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[queenshelby]

Daughter Dearest (Part Seven)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)

Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family

Tag List will be updated soon! Please comment and engage!

When you arrived at the station, the police officers gave you an opportunity to explain yourself and, even though they couldn't do much about your situation, they offered to let you go.

"Who can we call to pick you up?" they asked after advising you to call your solicitor the day after to explain what you had already explained to them. They were going to have to file a violation report and, if your solicitor did not appeal, a magistrate would most likely order for your house arrest to be extended.

"I-I'll call my stepfather," you stammered, your voice shaky with the realization that yet again, your actions had consequences which affected not only yourself but Cillian too.

"No, we will call him. What's his name and number?" 

one of the officers asked you as you sat nervously in the waiting area, your heart racing with anxiety.

"Cillian Murphy," you replied while fidgeting with your phone to read out his number.

"Cillian Murphy?" one of the officers asked, chuckling loudly. "Seriously?"  the other officer chimed in, also looking surprised. "The Cillian Murphy? The actor?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of embarrassment and annoyance at their reaction. You weren't used to this kind of attention and you certainly didn't want it now, when you were in the middle of a mess.

One of the officers quickly made the call, explaining the situation to Cillian in a calm, official tone. After a few moments, he told you that your stepfather would be there shortly to pick you up.

You nodded, grateful for their help, even though you were still shaking with apprehension about what was to come. 

Cillian arrived a short while later, his face etched with worry as he rushed up to you.

"Y/N, what happened?" he asked urgently, taking in the scene inside the station without any kind of judgment from his part. 

"It's a long story," you replied, exhaustion written all over your face. "I'll explain it all when we get home."

"Alright," he responded quietly before asking the officers whether he needed to do or sign anything and they shook their heads and informed him that he was free to take you home.

After a brief nod, Cillian guided you outside where the cool evening air enveloped you. The sky was a deep shade of blue with flecks of orange and pink from the still-visible sunset. It was a picture-perfect scene that would have been a joy to take a photograph of, but given the night's events, not even the beauty of creation could tame the whirlwind of emotions surging inside you.

"You are so lucky that your mother isn't home," Cillian murmured, opening the car door for you.

You nodded silently, climbing in and closing your eyes as exhaustion overwhelmed you.

As he settled in behind the wheel and started the car, the silence between you was deafening. The weight of what had happened hung heavy in the air, and neither of you knew where to begin.

Cillian was the first to break the silence. "Y/N, what happened back there?" he said gently.

You took a deep breath, recalling what had transpired earlier that evening at the hostel.

You told Cillian everything, starting from your call with Nadine, to finding out about Lucy's involvement, and ending with your decision to confront her despite knowing the consequences of leaving your designated area.

Cillian listened intently, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter with every word you said. By the time you finished, his expression was a mixture of shock and anger. "That explains a lot," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you. "And we need to get in touch with your solicitor tomorrow to get this sorted out," he added, switching gears as he drove you home.

Your heart sank at the thought of what this all meant - the possibility of an extended house arrest or even a harsher sentence. But you found comfort in the fact that you had Cillian by your side, supportive and understanding, even when your mother would have been furious.

"Can we not tell mum about this?" you  asked hesitantly, not wanting to deal with the added stress of her disappointment.

Cillian glanced over at you, his eyes softening as he took in your nervous expression. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he replied gently.

You nodded, relieved but still worried. 

"Thanks again, for picking me up and for not being angry," you said, turning to face Cillian who pulled into the driveway and, after he parked the car, he smiled at you reassuringly. "I wont lie, I am a bit angry, but not at you, but rather at your friend. She clearly wronged you," he said, his voice filled with compassion.

You sighed deeply. "I know, I am so angry too. I can't believe she would do something like this," you said, still troubled by the turn of events. "I feel so betrayed."

Cillian looked over at you, his heart ached at the pain and sadness etched on your face. "Hey, it's alright," he said softly, reaching out to comfort you. "Let's go inside, have a glass of wine, and talk about it," he offered  , trying to lighten the mood.

You silently nodded and got out of the car, heading towards the front door. The cold evening air did nothing to quell the turmoil burning inside of you.

"Come on, let's sit," Cillian said, his voice unusually gentle as he helped you out of your jacket.

You then let yourself be led to the couch, still in disbelief over the night's events.

Cillian poured a generous glass of red wine for each of you and then sat down next to you. You took a large gulp, feeling the warmth spread through your body.

"I am such a fucking idiot," you then muttered, sitting back on the couch and running a hand through your hair.

Cillian placed a hand gently on your knee, holding it there as he looked intently into your eyes.

"Y/N, it's okay. You didn't really do anything wrong. You just acted hotheadedly and we all do that sometimes," he said, his voice gentle as you started to sob , trembling with the release of all the anger and frustration pent up in you.

"I know, but I just can't have my house arrest extended. I am starting my photography course in New York soon and...fuck...this is all just too much," you  blurted out, tears spilling from the corner of your eyes.

Cillian didn't say anything for a moment, just looked at you with a deep understanding, a look that pierced right through you, seeing you for who you truly are - vulnerable, scared, and utterly alone.

Without a word, he caressed your face and wiped away your tears with his thumbs.

"Hey, look at me," he then said,  making you meet his intense gaze. "It's going to be okay. We will make sure of it."

You looked at him, your eyes glistening with tears. "How?"

'Well, we will get your lawyer to get the charges dropped so that you can still go to New York and if he can't do that, I will smuggle you out of the country," Cillian said, only half-joking.

His words caught your attention and a smile appeared in your trembling lips. "You will smuggle me out of the country?" you chuckled through teary eyes.

Cillian laughed at the absurdity of it but then leaned in towards your face, his eyes locked with yours. " Yes, I will smuggle you through the airport and on to the plane," he whispered jokingly, still caressing your face.

"Now you are being an idiot," you replied with a soft laugh, feeling a flutter in your stomach at his closeness.

He leaned in a little closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "Am I?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

You swallowed hard, feeling a heat building up in your center as you looked at him. "Yes," you giggled quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "A beautiful and kind and somewhat sexy idiot," you gasped at your own admission, causing Cillian to exhale a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine.

He leaned in closer, invading your space while still caressing your cheeks as, suddenly, he crashed his lips against yours, driving you back into the sofa.

Your hands reached for the back of his head, clutching his hair tight and pulling him closer.

Cillian groaned, deepening the kiss as his tongue traced the creases of your lips before delving inside. His other hand went up to you, cupping your cheek before it slipped behind your head, cradling it as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth.

A moan escaped you, sending a hot wave of desire coursing through you as he dominated your mouth.

You met his every move with fervent passion, the taste of coppery wine on his tongue as it danced with yours.

Your hands roamed his back, gripping at his shirt, frustratingly unable to reach the skin beneath as you both gave in to your desires like two wild animals.

The raw chemistry between you two spurred out of control. Your mind was fuzzy, and all your senses were heightened, focusing entirely on Cillian's touch.

He slid his hand down your side, resting it heavily on your hip before grabbing a chunk of fabric, pulling at it feverishly. Impatiently, you broke the kiss, your breath hitching as he scattered desperate kisses along the curve of your neck, growling at the contact.

"What are we doing Cillian?" you eventually moaned as he trailed fiery kisses from your collarbone to your heaving chest.

"Do you want to stop?" he  asked, his breath possibly howling around your neck, and you caught a glimpse of his eyes, lustrous and sharp with hunger.

You looked back at him, met his gaze, and without a word, you tossed your head.

"Good," he said, and his mouth covered yours once again, sucking your lips aggressively, slipping his tongue into the openings, wrapping his arms around you, and twining his fingers in the hair at the back of your head.

His touch was fierce and all-consuming, and you couldn't help but melt beneath it. Your mind reeled and swarmed with a potent mix of naughty curiosity and lust.

Almost breathlessly, you agreed, "I want you, Cillian. I want you so fucking much!" 

His eyes burned as he pinned you to the couch beneath him. "Then take your clothes off," he demanded harshly.

You didn't protest one bit; instead, you sat up and obeyed, tearing off your t-shirt over your head.

Cillian's hungry gaze followed your every move as you did so, his pulse quickening at the sight of your bare breasts.

Without hesitation, you quickly shrugged out of your jeans, but leaving on your panties, your heart hammering against your rib cage in anticipation. Cillian swallowed heavily as he watched you, his own desire burning hot and wild.

You lay back down on the couch, your limbs splayed and trembling, as Cillian finally shed his own clothes, revealing his toned but lean physique.

"Oh my god, you have so many freckles," you whispered, feeling your mouth go dry. He was unlike any guy you had ever met and, even despite him being more than twice your age, you found him incredibly irresistible.

His greying chest-hair and  the tiny wrinkles around his eyes did nothing to detract from his sex-appeal, instead making you only hungrier for him.

Cillian crawled over to you, placing his hands on either side of your head, his eyes burning holes into you. His body hovered above yours, casting a thick shadow over you. You could feel your heartbeat pounding in between your legs as he smirked down at you, that handsome face twisting with raw desire.

"You are so fucking beautiful," he murmured, brushing a few loose strands of hair off your forehead . You could feel the heat of his breath on your cheeks, and your lips parted involuntarily at the sound of his voice.

He leaned in, his warm lips claiming yours in a passionate kiss while you caressed one another.

Much to your surprise, your hands exploration of his body came more natural than you could ever imagine as if you had been doing this forever.

He moved slower with you, savoring every moment of the game, playing lightly with your sensitive lips and pressing into you as you opened up to him.

His hands roamed down your sides, tracing the curves of your hips and the perfect swell of your breasts. His fingertips moved over your nipples, then plucked and teased them until reaching your navel, moving back up to you with his thumb caressing that spot. Your underwear barely covered anything as he slipped his fingers beneath it, moving up to your mound.

A soft moan escaped your lips as his palm rubbed at your clitoris, and his fingers slipped inside your entrance.

"Oh my god,"  you groaned as sensations took over. Your body writhed in pleasure as he began to pump into you with ease, your wetness covering his hand. He wasn't desperate, but precise, stimulating you in a way no one else had done before. 

"Fuck, just feel how wet you make me," you muttered against his lips, your breath hot and heavy. 

"Oh I can feel it, trust me," Cillian groaned. "You are soaking," he mumbled against your lips, his fingers slipping in and out of you in a slow, steady fashion, his thumb still applying consistent pressure to your clit.

Your eyes rolled back at the feel of him, the way his expertise were driving you so close to the edge. And just as you felt the first wave of ecstasy shudder through your body, he pulled his hand away leaving you gasping for breath and craving for more.

"Cillian, don't stop," you pleaded.

He gave you a mischievous smile as he moved down your body, trailing hot kisses along the way. His stubble tickled you, sending shivers running up and down your spine.

"I want to taste you," he murmured, his voice hoarse and hungry.

You gasped when he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. He threw them to the side, and your bare sex was exposed to him.

Cillian groaned at the sight, his eyes darkening with desire.

"Like what you see?" you asked provocatively as you looked down on him, running the tip of your tongue tenderly over your swollen bottom lip.

"Very much so ," Cillian growled in response, as he moved further down between your legs. Your thighs shook involuntarily at the touch of his breath upon your labia.

He parted your lips with his fingers, exposing your clitoris to him. You looked down on him, anticipation and hunger in your gaze. His tongue flicked across your nub, gentle and seeking, and you struggled not to scream in pleasure.

"Oh God, yes," you stammered out as he continued his assault upon your sex.

You hadn't expected him to go down on you, but once he started, you realized how badly you wanted it.

He teased you, gently at first, circling his tongue around your clit, just barely touching you. His talented tongue danced and swirled over your sensitive area, ratcheting up the pressure in an agonizing, glorious crescendo.

You felt his other hand slip around your leg, his fingertips trailing a blazing path up your thigh as he pulled you closer to his face.

You could feel the warmth radiating from his mouth, and you squirmed as anticipation coursed through your veins.

Cillian's tongue lashed at your clitoris with more intent now, lapping at your engorged nub with a rhythmic hunger that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Your legs jerked involuntarily, and he held you firmly in place.

He parted your lips further with his fingers, slipping his tongue deeper into the recesses of your sex.

He tasted you, teased you, drove you wild, and sent you over the edge. You writhed and bucked below him, your hands clutching at the fabric of the couch as his tongue plunged into you again and again.

The pressure building inside you reached its boiling point, and you cried out as your orgasm tore through you with a strength that seemed to shatter all barriers between your minds and bodies. Your vision blacked out, and for a moment, you were floating, lost in the sea of pleasure he had created within you.

It wasn't the first time you climaxed, but it had never felt like this before, so intensely and powerfully.

Cillian held you through it, his tongue making slow, soft strokes against your sensitive skin. You whimpered at the sensation, all your muscles rigid with the force still coursing through your veins.

When you finally came down, you were shaking and trembling, clutching at the couch as if it were the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

"Fuck, that was insane," you gasped as Cillian's mouth continued its slow, gentle laps at your clitoris, soothing you through the aftershocks of your climax before, after a while, he eased himself up your body. "I don't think I ever came that hard before! Jesus!" you cursed. 

After you finished swearing, Cillian kissed you deeply, letting you taste your own pleasure on his lips, and you couldn't help but moan into the kiss, overwhelmed by the taste of yourself, by the intensity of your connection.

His erection pressed into your thigh, and you found yourself rubbing against him, desperate for more.

"I want you inside of me so fucking much, you have no idea," you whispered, your breath hitching as you felt him hard against your leg.

"Yeah?" he asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as his hand slipped between you, his fingers once again slipping inside of you.

You cried out in pleasure, nodding your head and pushing your hips against his hand, urging him on.

"I need your cock inside me, right fucking now Cillian, please," you demanded, wrapping your legs around his waist while pulling on the fabric of his briefs.

"I don't have a condom Y/N," Cillian struggled to reason, his voice creaking with weakness under the barrage of your desires.

But you didn't give a fuck about anything but relieving the burning desire between your legs.

"Please, Cillian. Don't worry about it and just do it," you whimpered, helplessly clinging to his arm with your nails, as you begged him to take you, to drive inside you.

Seeing your determination, Cillian couldn't resist any longer. With a groan, he pushed down his briefs and pulled out his hard, throbbing shaft.

It was thick and long, and the tip was already wet with pre-cum. You looked down on it and couldn't believe that this was happening, that you were about to have sex with your stepfather and he looked goddamn perfect.

Cillian moved between your legs, spreading them a bit wider as he grabbed his shaft, guiding it to your entrance. He pressed the tip against your slick folds, his jaw clenching with every passing second as he, again, wrestled with himself and his guilt. 

You felt your legs shaking against his sides, a pleading cry escaping your lips.

"Please, Cillian. I need you to fuck me," you begged, rocking your hips up to meet him, causing him to push his invasive thoughts of guilt aside.

But instead of taking you right away, he moved his shaft down to your entrance and began to rub its head around the rim, collecting the wetness there before he pushed in slowly. He ducked his head to kiss you, his tongue plunging into your mouth with the same torturous slowness that his thick cock easing inside of you.

The feeling was incredible, the stretch of your tight pussy around his length made both of you groan in bliss, and your nails dug into his firm ass as you pulled him closer. Inch by inch his manhood filled and stretched you. You felt every twitch and throb of his erection deep inside you, causing your channel to clench involuntarily, which drove him wild.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're so tight," he muttered as he broke the kiss, unable to contain how good you felt.  Cillian leveraged himself up onto his elbows, using every ounce of self-control he had not to lose himself in you in that very moment. He hadn't had sex for almost three years and being with you was almost too much to bear.

"I feel so full," you whispered, wrapping your legs around his hips, urging him deeper inside of you.

Cillian's face darkened with hunger as he pulled his hips back and sank even deeper into you, causing you to cry out loudly.

"Fuck," he muttered, unable to hold back a groan at the unbelievable feeling of being inside you.

He repeated this motion several times, pulling out a few inches before plunging himself back into you.

Each stroke stretched and massaged your sensitive walls. You were loving every moment of it, quivering with a building, unrelenting pleasure—a pleasure that begged for more.

You clawed at his arms, urging him on as he moved faster and deeper. You were incoherent now, barely able to form words as his pace quickened.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you to meet each thrust. Your breasts bounced enticingly as gravity played its part. The sensation between you both grew incredibly intense.

"Oh, oh, yes, Cillian," you managed to say, your legs gripping tighter around him as your pleasure heightened.

You knew you weren't going to last and neither was he. As you felt each thrust, your eyes rolled back into your head.

Cillian adjusted his angle and hit the right spot causing you to gasp loudly.

"Fuck, that's the spot!" you exclaimed.

A slight sheen of sweat formed on both of your skin as your bodies melded together, your hips rising to meet each desperate pounding thrust.

"Cillian, don't stop, please, don't stop," you pleaded, the words barely coherent coherent as Cillian's tempo increased.

Your body begged for reprieve, aching for release from this earth-shattering pleasure. Yet, at the same time craved for it to last longer, for this moment to never end.

You could feel Cillian's breath panting heavily against your neck. The heat from it branded your skin as his pace quickened, driving himself into you with a wild urgency until you exploded once again.

"Oh my god!" you cried out as the climax tore through you, ripping away all control and thought as you writhed beneath him, eyes rolling back and legs tightening around him.

Your orgasm was a blinding flash of pure pleasure, a devastating force that swept you away in its current. Cillian couldn't last much longer. As your pussy clenched around him during your climax, every muscle in his body tensed with the effort not to cum too soon.

But he fought against it, needing to prolong this moment just a little bit longer. He wanted to savor the feeling of being inside of you, of hearing the way you moaned his name and seeing the pleasure written all over your face.

After a while, you started to slow down, your body spending a few moments catching up with your exhilarated senses. As your still-throbbing sex eased around his shaft, Cillian felt the pressure in his balls build to an almost uncomfortable degree.

With a final, desperate moan, he buried his face in your neck and gave in.

The first spurts of his release jetted deep inside of you, splashing against your cervix, the warmth of his load filling you completely. You relished in the feeling of him coming hard, his own release triggering another small orgasm inside of you, the combination of his warm seed mixing with the contractions of your pussy brought you to a peak yet again, a last wave that sent you crashing down.

Cillian's hips jerked erratically beneath you, and he groaned your name as he continued to pump every last drop of himself inside of you.

Your walls contracted around his shaft again and again as you whimpered with each pulsating wave of your orgasm.

Cillian held still for a few seconds before slumping over you, still buried deep inside your warm welcoming embrace. Your breaths came out in short pants as his did the same, leaving him with a few shudders and aftershocks as he caught his breath.

"Oh fuck, Y/N," Cillian managed to say after a while, his head still buried in your neck. "That was...that was..."

He couldn't seem to find the words, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Intense," you suggested, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

Cillian chuckled at that and blew out a long, slow breath. "Yeah, that."

The weight of his body upon yours felt anything but unpleasant; you found yourself wrapping your arms around him tighter, delighting in the feeling of his warm skin against yours which is when guilt consumed him once more.

"Fuck," he cursed again before slowly pulling out, then extracting himself from your grasp and your body, standing up on the plush carpet that lay between the couch and the fireplace, watching as your limbs dangled over the edge of it like a rag doll's.

"We shouldn't have done that," he muttered mostly to himself but loud enough that you heard him, just as he noticed that you'd opened your eyes to peer up at him from under heavy lids. "Fucking hell, what is wrong with me?"  Cillian mumbled to himself as he stood naked in the vast living room of his home, the air heavy with the scent of his own arousal.

He had been unable to deny that fire burning deep within him any longer. That forbidden connection with you, his stepdaughter, had grown too intense to ignore.

The way your lips had parted as he ravaged your body... the sounds you had made as your sweet body responded to his every touch...the sighs, groans, cries, and whispers that escaped your lips... the way your legs had trembled, then wrapped around him, your heels digging into his backside as you urged him on... all of it had driven him to the brink of madness.

And now, as he looked down on you sprawled out on the couch, a deep sense of shame and betrayal filled him.

"Please don't do this," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion as you slowly sat up and pulled a throw over your naked body. 

You looked at Cillian, pleading for him to see things from your perspective, too. You understood the gravity of what you had just done, but you also couldn't deny the powerful connection that you felt.

"I need to go," he muttered, turning away and gathering up his clothes from the floor before disappearing upstairs to get dressed in private.

"Fine," you sighed as you slowly got up from the couch, your legs feeling like jelly beneath you, and wrapped yourself in the blanket. "Just walk away then. It seems to be a common occurrence in this fucking house," you hissed, the words sharp and filled with anger as Cillian walked off to collect his thoughts. 

Tags:

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[filipinoizukuu]

fun fact about togame, his voice actor also voices a jojo character named "Weather Report" (you see where i'm going with this?)

i want to believe that the one singular contact number in sakura's phone is not in fact his piss poor attempt to use a phone, but rather a well-kept secret point of contact between him and one certain togame jo. after the showdown with shishitoren and the rooftop celebration, togame and sakura remain... curious about each other. it starts off surface-level enough. togame wants to find a way to repay his debts somehow -- keep an avenue available to someday prove to sakura that he isn't so lame anymore.

he's eternally thankful to sakura for snapping him out of whatever fugue state choji's mistakes put him in and wants to actually befriend sakura because of it. make sure he hasnt changed and all. meanwhile sakura contemplates it, because umemiya WAS right in the grand scheme of things and he did somehow "communicate" with togame in their fight. he wants to keep talking to togame, sort of. learn all the things he couldn't gather with his jabs and kicks. so they both find themselves at the tunnel a few days after the fight as complete coincidence.

its complete fate they ran into each other without meaning to, but togame wastes no time in warmly greeting sakura and chatting him up. night begins to creep up and at that point sakura knows they've gotta start getting home if they both don't wanna start shit sitting out at night on territory boundaries while wearing their respective recognizable uniforms. he's hesitant to pull away from the conversation though and togame seizes the opportunity to ask for sakura's (barely used) phone and write himself into sakura's contacts. (he doesn't even have a password btw)

"Wow~ Not a single person on here, Othello-kun."

"Hah? What th' hell would I even need it for? If I need something, I can just go ask in person. None of that slow, boring texting crap."

"You really live life too fast, haha. What if it's too small for the effort? Or you can't come find me in time? Shishitoren territory is quite far from Furin's campus, after all."

"What would I even need'ta ask you that isn't urgent enough to come here, scraggly?"

Togame simply laughs under his breath. "Anything you can think of." he hands the phone back to Sakura, screen lit up with a single new contact under the name 'Weather.'

That's stupid.

The older boy continues to tease Sakura. "Call me to ask about the weather, if you really can't come up with anything at all. I promise I'd pick up; it's the least I can do for you after everything."

They part ways, and even if neither of them mention it -- Sakura keeps this encounter close to his chest. Thinks about it when his classmates make fun of him for it the very next day, even as he says nothing and lets them tease him. With 5 new names in his list of contacts, he remembers to go home and scroll to 'W' and asks about the weather tomorrow. Asks a whole lot of other things too. All until he falls asleep.

(He never changes Togame's contact name after that. Not even months later, stranded on a bridge and staring down an army of enemies and another black-haired tall douchebag to humble. What will the weather be like tomorrow? Clear motherfuckin' skies, baby.)

[saintyveningstar]

Mama! Abby Headcannons !

No. 2

Mom! Abby Anderson head-cannons !

Abby is absolutely stern and/or strict. Not strict in the way that her kids aren't allowed to do anything but she's very adamant that her children show her the same amount of respect she gives them

Saying ma'am/sir is required in her household

When her kids act out she has no problem taking a traditional approach — bar of soap in the mouth, taking off her belt, spanking — but she will never go too far with punishments

She always makes sure that her kids know why they're in trouble and why they're getting punished

Abby does not tolerate disrespect or lies of any kind

The only person who's more strict than Abby is her father Jerry

Abby knows how to stop her kids in their tracks with just a look

Sometimes she won't yell and scream, but her kids see the poorly contained anger in her eyes behind her calm demeanor.

When she gets like this, she'll be eerily quiet — "Yeah?" she'll say, "Is that your final answer?" she'll shrug, cross her arms, and lean back, her kids will have unknowingly stepped into a trap. "Get up to your room, then." she'd say, and kiss her teeth. "I'll be up there to talk to you in a minute." — the only thing that'll be talking is that belt, though.

She loves to do her kids hair, especially in French braids

She loves to make tea/coffee for them

She loves to give her kids forehead/cheek kisses

Abby literally patches up their wounds if they get hurt playing or roughhousing, she'll kiss the scrapes and bruises.

Her kids call her Mommy

Her kids will dress up as her for career day, coming to school in blue scrubs, her stethoscope, her pens in the pocket, and her badge

She 100% curses in front of her kids and does not care, they just better not repeat it in front of her cause they know better

"But—" "But nothing!"

She does that gritted teeth mom thing

She finds out her kid did something bad because they told her themself — "You better be fucking joking, so help me, you better be."

She does that other mom thing where she's in the other room and calls for her kid but when they answer she wont respond and just wait for them to come — unless it's urgent:

"[Full Kid's name], get your ass down here! Now!"

"Do I need to take off my belt?"

"Don't lie to me."

"Do I need to call your father?"

"Did you brush your teeth before bed?" "Yes." — she'll just shoot a glare at them until they get it right, raising her eyebrow — "Yes, ma'am. Sorry!" "Yeah, thought so."

She has cute little petnames for her kid/kids — baby, sweetheart, doll, their first initial, dove, honey/hun, diva/sassy, bossy, bubba, love

She has asthma, so her kids have asthma too — she got it from Jerry

She will comfort her kid through their asthma attacks — "Deep breaths, baby. That's it, you got it."

"I know that's not a fucking hickey on your neck." — for teenagers

"Mommy, can you help me rearrange my room, please please please?" "Yeah, sure, hun." — she ends up doing all of the work.

If she has more than one kid, the oldest one is always trusted to look out for the others.

She'll pay for her kids to try any hobby they want, she has no issue with it

"You said you have a project due tomorrow?!" She's absolutely fucking livid, "And you only thought to tell me now?"

Everyone does their part with chores, including her

If she has a child who inherited her attitude she's able to humble them every time — "Don't dish it out if you can't take it, yeah?"

"Oh my god, you better clean up this fucking room."

She calls her kid up, "That room better be clean by the time I get back, or you're getting it. You hear me?"

"Do you understand me?"

"Look at me when I'm talking to you."

"Get all of that?"

"Think I'm playin' with you?"

She's very, very protective of her children

She will always hear her kids out, but ultimately she knows best

will always listen to their side of the story and take it into account, even if she's angry with them

Abby values honesty and integrity above all else

"You know you can tell me anything, absolutely anything, right?"

"Hey, can you make sure to take the meat out of the freezer? I'm planning to cook today." — but when she gets home, the meat is definitely still in the freezer.

She sets boundaries and expectations for her kids and expects them to be followed

"Go lay out your clothes for tomorrow."

"How was Owen's?"

When her kids bring friends around, she know's who's good and who's not. — "Yeah, I don't like that boy Kevin. Steer clear of him, maybe."

Abby can read her kids like the back of her own hand

"Baby, what's the matter?"

She does that nose bridge pinch

"Get your fuckin' act together, alright?" 

If her kid starts acting up in public, she'll give them that look and if they don't stop she'll grab their shoulder and pull them close. Abby would bend down, "Tread lightly, yeah?"

"You better straighten up, hun." she'd say, "Or you're in hot water."

"I'll tan your hide if you don't cut it out, now."

"Shape up, or ship out."

All of her kids look exactly like her with different coloring

"Is that the route you wanna take?"

"You have like, five seconds, to remove yourself from my line of sight before I reach out and grab you."

"Don't tempt fate, hun."

"Can you tell that you're pissing me off right now? Or no?"

(If you like Ellabs) They call Ellie Mama

She loves to read books to/with her kids

She carries her kids around on her back or to her chest with ease, no matter their age

"Watch your tone, Okay?"

"Watch yourself."

"Have you eaten today, love?"

"Who are you talking to?!"

she is an amazing mama

That's all I've got 

[goldhoekin]

Angel || Sam Riordan Smut

Angel || Yandere!Sam Riordan x Fem Reader

summary: After Marie becomes #2 and Brink is killed by Luke Jordan slips in the rankings. They begin to obsess over the rankings neglecting their girlfriend who lets their frustration slips and Jordan takes their frustrations out on their girlfriend.

cw: fem!reader, porn with some plot, creampie, unprotected sex, dubious consent, oral sex ( f! receiving), overstimulation, biting/marking, dacryphilia, obsessive behaviors, and nonconsensual use of aphrodisiacs .

Words:2.03k

He sees you every single time Luke is brought down for his infusions, each time you look at him with such kindness and sadness as you plead for his freedom. It makes him happy to see someone actually fight for him. One time you’d even held his hand in exchange for him to stop struggling.

“Hi Sam. My name’s Y/N, I’m so sorry you have to go through this. Would you like it if I held your hand to help? I know its not much but maybe that’ll make this a tiny bit more bearable?” You say, a genuine look in your eye, that’s how he knows you’re real and not a puppet, you’re a real angel. 

You’re his personal angel…and he has to have you. You were so nice to him, you must like him right? For weeks he spends his time sketching you on pieces of paper, hiding them each time you visit him, and spend time with him.

One day after lunch he asks to speak to Shetty, telling her he has a deal for her. He’d dreamt of you sitting down in his room, reading comics with him, holding his hand as he saw the puppets all with those sparkly eyes of yours.

“You let me have Y/N for a few hours a day and I won’t fight you anymore..” Sam says, eyes sparkling with hope, voice steady…well as steady as he can make it.

The woman’s brows raised in surprise, you were a simple supe who made pretty little light shows. Harmless enough, you were one of the few supes she actually had no issue with, you were an angel truly. Though as much as she didn't like bargaining you off to a highly dangerous supe…she wasn’t left with much choice Sam was integral to Luke’s success and if giving you up to him for an hour, after doping him to high hell so he didn’t kill you, then so be it. Vought didn’t need to know what they did for the Woods project to go smoothly and if she had to get her hands dirtier than so be it, keep them distracted on what she was really doing.

“You can have her for one hour a day and that’s only if you take your medications without fuss, Y/N’s a sweet girl. We don’t want her hurt, do we Sam?” Indira says, a false smile on her face.

“O-one hour? No cameras right? I won’t her I promise!” Sam hastily replies.

Shetty simply nods her head in confirmation and turns towards the exit, “She’ll be here for you tomorrow, don’t screw this up Sam.”

You were called to Dean Shetty’s office, she texted you and said it was urgent. She told you to dress up, wear white and tell no one. So when Andre asked you where you were going looking like a sexy Virgin Mary with your pure white sundress, matching shoes, garters and underwear included. You hated not looking put together, a habit you’ve had due to your belief that keeping up a certain image will help your brand, which for all intent and purposes it did. 

You simply said, “Some of us don’t get dressed in the dark while spending my daddy’s money on tacky clothes Andre.”

A cackle leaves Luke’s lips as Andre’s face turns into one of shock, Jordan silently crying into a throw pillow, Cate struggling to breathe through her laughs. Without another word you make your way to Dean Shetty’s office, the woman already waiting outside her door, two cups of a hot beverage in hand.

She walks towards you and guides you in the familiar direction to the Woods, handing you a warm cup that you take without hesitation. You unfortunately knew about it, finding out by accident. Dean Shetty knew of your record of caring for those who need it, this should be right up your alley. Though she knew you wouldn’t be the most susceptive to Sam’s advances without help so she slipped a high dose aphrodisiac into your cinnamon creme drink that you love so much.

“Y/N love, I have a special mission for you.” Shetty says as they move downwards towards the prison facility, “Sam needs someone to spend time with, he said he’d love to talk and spend time with you! Would you be willing to spend an hour a day with him, just help him adjust and stay settled? I know you’ll be great at it love!”

You think its actually sweet that Sam felt safe enough with you to ask to spend time with you.  The poor boy needed help that Vought could give him, maybe you can as well. Maybe you can even work with him to get him a little tv or something or more books for him to read.You fall into your thoughts as you absentmindedly sip your drink, noting how good it tasted. 

“Sure we can read some comics, maybe even have some snacks,I think it’ll be really fun!” You say with that lovely smile on your face, the same one Sam loves and Dean Shetty fears will never grace your face again after today as she takes the now empty cup from your hand.

Making your way down to Sam’s room you wait for him to enter, promptly security and Shetty leave and the door is securely closed behind you.

Sam stares at you in awe, mouth agape at your appearance.

She dressed up for me, my angel put on this pretty outfit for me. Y/N really does love me!

“Y-you look really pretty. I can’t believe you did all this for me!” Sam beams, moving forward to grip your hand. You notice he has a band-aid on his wrist, noting that he’s been injected with something.

At that moment you feel your body growing hot, prompting you to immediately take off your tell tailored white coat. Your breasts now on display as you chest heaves as you try and fail to gather air in your lungs, you hardly noticed Sam’s face so close to yours, his eyes staring at your lips. Without hesitation he slams onto yours, his hands gripping your waist in a bruising grip.

They must’ve given a strength dampener, because he could’ve fucking crushed me…

You think to yourself as you feel his lips clumsily move onto yours, you move yours against his, feeling the weight on your chest lessen slightly. You feel your pussy grow wetter and wetter as his hands roam your body, making his way under your dress to grip your ass.

You move him in the general direction of his bed, the young man breathless. 

“I–i can’t believe you like me back!” Sam whispers, his knee grazing against your dripping wet cunt.

“What-I like you, just as a friend Sam.” You say as you feel his neck brush against your neck, which promptly stops at your words.

“If you don’t like me then why are we in my bed? Why are you kissing me and letting me touch you?” Sam asks, his voice hurt, you couldn’t help but sigh.

“I…I can’t stop for some reason. I’m so horny it hurts, if I could do this with someone else trust me I would Sam. I’m so sorry!” You whimper, unconsciously grinding your weeping pussy against his knee, desperate for friction of any kind. At this he tosses you back, so roughly you land on his bean bag, legs spread wide. A large gray spot showing how wet you are, your face hot and your breasts threatening to spill out from your dress.

“You’re mine!” Sam growls, eyes darkened as he crawls in between your legs, he takes his time pulling down your panties and exposing your pussy to the open air. He keeps your legs open with his strength as he dives into your wetness, your hand immediately goes into his hair gripping it harshly. A moan leaves his lips as you pull him as close to you as possible, your moans pouring from your lips as he licks at you with inexperienced vigor. 

“Use your finger Sam! Take two, move them in and out of me, keep your mouth on my clit. Y-you’re so good baby, fuck you’re doing so fucking good!” You moan, thankfully Sam listens to you his deliciously thick fingers plunge into your cunt and sucks at your cunt harshly, the knot that was forming in your stomach tightening more and more. You wrap your now free legs around Sam’s head grinding your cunt against his face as you feel yourself about to cum.

“Oh fuck! Sam, I’m gonna cum!” You scream as you feel yourself gush, your legs shaking violently as you come down from your high. Sam’s tongue lapping up your juices eagerly, licking and sucking you damn near clean. After you stopped shaking he pulls back, swiftly pulling his cock out, the tip violently red. His tip is leaking large amounts of precum, he runs his hand up and down his shaft.

“Don’t worry I’ll be good, so good that you won’t want anyone else! It’ll be perfect and maybe you can stay down here with me longer!” Sam says settling between your legs, he begins to rub himself up and down your still twitching cunt, your pussy gripping on nothing. Without warning he plunged himself into you, his body leaning over you as he pushed himself into you to the hilt, his face buried in your neck. He begins to push himself in and out of your pussy, the feeling becoming overwhelming fast as you feel him pick up the pace, albeit not the smoothest rhythm was set. 

“Y-you feel so good! You really were made for me my angel, I can’t believe I get to go do this with you! Tell me what you want me to do, I’ll do it! I’ll do anything for you, just ask!” Sam says breathlessly, his hands find their way to the top of your dress, roughly pulling down the bodice to watch your breasts spill out. Sam latches his lips around your pebbled nipple, nipping and biting down harshly on your chest, a gasp leaving your lips. You begin to feel another orgasm building, causing you to wrap your arms around Sam’s neck and your legs capture his midsection. 

“I’m gonna cum again! Fuck!” You moan as you feel Sam’s thrusts grow sloppy, hopefully he’s smart enough to pull out.

You feel yourself cumming again, thick cream coating Sam’s dick as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, the overstimulation causing you to cry from the overwhelming sensation. 

Sam looks up at your face as he feels your tears, he couldn’t help but think about how good you looked like this. All fucked out, those beautiful eyes shinging with tears from how good he’s making you feel. Sam decides that he wants to see you like this more often, him fucking you till you cry and him filling you up, his various bite marks and hickies littering your decolletage and those wide angel eyes filled with tears. This pushes him to prop himself up on his hands and piston in and out of you, your breasts bouncing wildly and your hands trying to push him away as the sensation is too much for you and the fear of him cumming inside of you. He buries his face into your neck, biting down harshly as he cums deep within you, filling you to the brim.

‘Don’t worry Angel, we’ll be so happy. It’ll be great just watch, I made you mine and I’m never letting you go.” Sam whispered into your neck, by now the drug that was slipped into your drink was wearing off and your face began to contort into one of horror, thoughts of you being stuck down here with him. You possibly ruining your a career by having a child too early while you yourself were a child became too much and those lovely eyes of yours went dark, the spark dying instantly. 

Fuck.

[sugarandspisces-writes]

Kiss It Better Pt. I

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Summary: Melissa engages in a game of kickball with her students and takes a nasty tumble. With the help of her colleagues, she makes her way to you, the school nurse.

Word Count: 4.6k

CW/TW: Mentions of hospitals and injuries

Although Melissa was a seasoned teacher, sometimes it was challenging to get into the swing of things after a nice vacation. While she was used to instructing two classes, the job still came with its fair share of tough days. The holiday break was much needed, considering it gave her time to recuperate from the first semester.

Originally, she hadn’t planned on going anywhere, and was fully content with spending two weeks at home with her feet kicked up. That was until she heard you complaining about the brutal winter weather. You weren't native to the north, and though you'd lived there for some time, you hadn't adjusted to the seasonal changes.

The more you mentioned it, the more she realized the feeling was mutual. She decided it wouldn't hurt to ring in the New Year differently, so the two of you brainstormed destinations and settled on a spur-of-the-moment trip to Florida. She had a guy who could get her discounted plane tickets and a hotel room for little to nothing. Before she knew it, she was getting sunkissed on Palm Beach. She’d be making a ton of ziti to return the favor, but the bottomless margaritas and adrenaline-filled nights at the casino were more than worth it.

It was now a week later and with her mind still on island time, she hoped for a relaxed first day back. The class was rowdy when they arrived, but that was to be expected. They were excited to be with each other after a couple of weeks away, but luckily they could themselves down without much of her guidance. So far the day was going well, and she was teaching her last morning lesson before recess.

The class was reading silently, making it the perfect time to catch up on some emails. Most of them were from parents, but she had one from Ava with the schedule of upcoming meetings for the remainder of the year. The first one was tomorrow morning meaning she had to wake up extra early.

She rolled her eyes, and the expression only intensified as she skimmed through the rest of the message. According to the principal, breakfast would be provided. However, the last time Ava promised to provide food, the “breakfast” in question was fun-sized boxes of cereal from the cafeteria. She would definitely need her extra-large Stanley Tucci mug to get through tomorrow morning.

She had one last email to read and was delighted to see your name attached to it. The message was marked as a priority, declaring the content to be urgent. It was a reminder for all teachers, asking them to collect and return the forms the students received before the break. As the school nurse, part of your job was ensuring that the kids had updated health records on file.

As for Melissa's class, just about everyone remembered to have their guardians fill out your forms, and she planned to give them to you later today. That prompted her to text you so she could see what your schedule looked like.

M: Hey, I’ll bring those forms to you during my planning period

↪ You sure? I don't mind stopping by your class later

You knew someone was bound to forget to deliver the forms, so you’d have to snag them at the end of the day.

M: I’ll bring them, hon. One less trip you’ll have to make.

Truthfully, the redhead wanted an excuse to see you, and her planning period conveniently took place when your day came to a lull.

↪ Thanks! You’re amazing!! 

Melissa’s lips curled upward at your compliment.

M: I might sit with you for a few when I come down. Is that okay?

She was considerate of your job, and no matter how much she wanted to see you during the day, she never wanted to interfere with your work.

↪ Of course that’s okay. You’re always welcome. Just let me know when you’re headed down

For the most part, your relationship was under wraps. Everyone who needed to know was informed, and everyone else was left to assume. And assume they did, because your affinity for each other was a hot topic around the school. Abbott loved to talk, but Melissa had eyes and ears all over–literally.

She’d become acquaintances with a couple members of the camera crew, and their knowledge combined with Barb’s allowed her to obtain information from virtually every square inch of the building. Just about everything that was said made its way back to the source. However, it didn’t bother either of you. If anything, it was amusing, and you found fun in keeping everyone guessing.

Engaged in her reverie, Melissa didn't notice the child standing directly beside her until the small voice spoke. “Ms. Schemmenti.”

Startled by their presence, she nearly jumped out of her seat. A hand clutched at her chest causing the young girl to laugh. “Jeez, Mya!” 

“Sorry.” She motioned toward the clock on the opposite side of the room. “Isn't it time for recess?

Melissa looked to where her student was pointing and saw it was 11:20 AM. Crap. They were supposed to be gone five minutes ago. She thanked the girl for telling her, then stood up to alert everyone else.

"Alright, my little eagles, it’s time for recess! We’re a little late because I got distracted, but you guys aren’t surprised, right?” A unison of “no” echoed around the room. “That was a rhetorical question, but thank you for the enthusiastic responses.”

She answered queries about the meaning of ‘rhetorical’, while everyone got their coats on. It was considerably cold, but not cold enough for the school to cancel outside activities. Melissa didn’t mind since this was her kid’s way of getting their energy out and she always made sure everyone had enough clothing on to protect them from the chill.

Once everyone was ready, they walked down the hall in formation. Melissa’s class was large, and while it could be hard to wrangle them all, they did a pretty good job at keeping each other in check. 

“I can’t believe we lost a whole 5 minutes,” Daniel whined from the back of the line. It was quiet, but Melissa still heard, so she slowed her steps to meet him once he strolled by.

She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and said, “I’m sorry, buddy. I’ll make it up to you, okay?” When he didn’t respond she spoke again. “How about this? I’ll do a class vote, and then youse can decide what I owe you.”

Even though the boy accepted her apology, he still hung his head low. Melissa squeezed his shoulder for good measure, then let him free as they approached the doors that led outside.

“Melissa!” Janine shouted, waving the redhead over to her. “I was looking for you guys. What happened?”

“Hey, kid. I was reading emails and lost track of time.” Melissa explained as she walked over to the second grade teacher.

“I had a lot of those too! Did you see Ava sent that one email, like, three times? It was so weird,” she laughed and Melissa agreed. “I bet your kids were sad about being late, huh?”

“You shoulda seen their faces when I told them they lost some time,” Melissa shared. “I might as well have told them Santa wasn’t real.”

Janine stuck her bottom lip out in a pout, knowing the exact look Melissa was referring to. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m still getting used to the flow of things too. The first day back is always a little rocky for me.”

“I’m usually okay, but I don’t know what happened today.” Melissa shrugged, looking off into the distance (Except she knew exactly what happened, and it was you).

“Well, they seem pretty happy now that they’re out here, so that’s good,” Janine noted.

“Yeah, but I’m sure I’ll be making it up to them for the next few weeks.” Melissa sighed and Janine nodded in agreement, knowing how relentless kids could be.

“Oh, one of your students is coming over here. I spoke too soon, it looks like he has a bone to pick with you.” She nudged the woman in her side.

Melissa narrowed her eyes before turning toward the student. “Hey, Daniel. What’s up?”

“Can you please play with us?” The little boy asked politely.

She looked across the playground and saw a group of students eyeing her expectantly. She couldn’t deny that it tugged at her heartstrings to see them so eager. However, playing with them wasn’t exactly on the agenda today.

“Oh, I don’t know, hon. There isn't much time left, and I’m sure you don’t want me slowing your game down.”

“Please, we really want you to play. And you said you’d make it up to us, remember?” He reminded her. 

This wasn’t her ideal way of making it up, but when Melissa looked down at the boy’s big, hopeful eyes, she couldn’t say no. She looked toward Janine and of course, she was looking at her with just as much expectation as the kids. The next thing Melissa knew, she was involved in a lively kickball game.

“Ms. Schemmenti, Ivy’s cheating!” Tyler yelled as soon as Melissa stepped up to the makeshift base. “I caught the ball, so that means she’s out!”

“I’m not cheating! The ball slipped out of your hands, so I’m still in the game!” Ivy yelled back at him.

“Cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater!” He teased. “You’re out!”

Melissa knew that it wouldn’t be an elementary school game if there wasn’t a little drama, but she had to hold her laughter back as she listened to their banter. “Okay, that’s enough, guys. Now, Tyler, tell me what happened again.”

“Ivy kicked the ball and I caught it, so that means she’s out.” He explained to her.

Instead of handling the situation herself, she decided to play the mediator. “Okay, How many people saw Tyler catch the ball?” Almost everyone raised their hand, so she turned to the girl to give her a sad smile. “Sorry, hon. You gotta follow the rules.”

“No fair!” The girl crossed her arms over her chest and began to stomp away.

Before she got far, Melissa gave the child a proposition. “Hey, how about I let you run the bases for me? That way you can stay in the game.” Quite frankly, she wasn’t in the running mood, and due to the cold, her joints were stiff. She also didn’t want the child to be in a bad mood for the rest of the day. This way, everyone got what they wanted.

“Deal!” Her mood instantly changed, and Melissa received a wide grin and a high five.

“All right, Ivy’s gonna run for me.” She announced to the group.

“I think that’s against the rules.” Someone piped up from behind her.

“Well, I’ve got a bad knee, so I ain’t running anywhere.” The teacher emphasized her point by wagging her index finger from side to side.

“Well, Ms. Schemmenti, you did say we have to follow the rules.” Ivy recited the woman's recent words.

Melissa closed her eyes and released a sigh at the girl's remark, now regretting using that exact phrase. “Alright, Alright.” The teacher relented. As much as she wanted to disagree with the girl, she was right, and it would be unfair to go against her word. “I’ll run, but go easy on me.” 

“Okay, everyone get into position!” Tyler yelled, alerting his classmates that the game was about to start. He rolled the ball down to the teacher, and the woman gave her best kick without using her full power. They were undoubtedly faster than her, but she was certainly stronger, and everyone needed a fair shot. 

She then ran to first base and was pleased with herself at how quickly she got there. She hadn’t played a game like this in a while, so it was gratifying to see that she still could. The confidence boost allowed her to make it past the next two bases. Tyler hurled the ball in an attempt to get her out, and she dodged it.

Melissa soon realized that was a mistake once she tripped. The heel of her boot got caught on an uneven patch of grass and she failed to regain balance. Her ankle rolled inward and she collapsed with a thud. A series of gasps filled the air, and within seconds she was surrounded by concerned children. They were too scared to touch her, but that didn’t stop them from getting help.

“Teacher down! Teacher down!” A shrill voice shouted at the top of their lungs.

While Melissa was thankful for the effort, she was unhappy about the attention she now received. Embarrassment was an emotion she rarely felt, but today it was warranted. Listening to her students' frantic chatter gave her something to focus on other than the blush burning her face. 

“Okay, let’s back up! Give Ms. Schemmenti some space, please!” Janine's voice of reason rang through all the chatter.

The kids inched away, but only far enough so Janine could have access. It was clear they were protective of their teacher, as they wouldn't take their eyes away for a second in case something were to happen.

Janine held her hand over her mouth as she kneeled in front of the woman. “Oh my God, Melissa! What happened? Are you okay? Can you get up?”

Once the crowd dissipated some, the woman felt she could move freely. She sat up, dusted her hands off, then brushed the debris from her clothes.

“M’fine,” she muttered in response to Janine’s frantic questioning.

“Are you sure? You fell pretty hard.” Janine noted her flushed cheeks and she could only imagine how she felt. Being that she’d embarrassed herself countless times, she had an idea, though she’d never been in this exact situation.

Melissa smoothed her hair back into place, ignoring the sympathetic look on the younger woman’s face. The expression made her want to crawl into a hole and never return. “Thank you for that riveting statement.” 

She reached out for Janine’s hand, a silent invitation for her assistance, and felt herself being tugged into an upright position. She hadn't felt it at first, but once she planted her right foot on the ground, a searing pain shot through it. Reflexively, her arm slung across the shorter woman’s shoulder to keep herself steady. She hissed, then hung her head low in an attempt to conceal the pain on her face. 

“What’s wrong?” Anxiety laced the junior teacher’s voice, but Melissa just ignored her, unable to simultaneously be in pain and answer questions. She took another step, thinking she could walk it off, but she was sorely mistaken. A groan slipped from her mouth and the sound shocked her as much as it did Janine. 

The latter's steps halted, almost causing the injured woman to topple over. “Okay, you’re obviously hurt. I think you should go see Y/N.”

At the mention of your name, the redhead straightened her posture. There was no way in hell she would go to your office and interrupt your day for something minor like this. She wasn't bleeding or dying, so she wouldn't have you fussing over her when you had students to care for. “I'll be okay. I just need to make it to my classroom.”

Janine bit the inside of her cheek, a telltale sign that her worry was increasing. “I don’t know, Melissa. I think you should let them take a look at it.” 

She tried to stand on her own to prove a point, but she simply couldn’t do it. The pain only grew with her efforts, and tears began to prick at her eyes. “Just let me sit down for a bit, okay? I’ll go see Y/N after lunch if it still hurts.”

Janine settled for the compromise and recruited a teacher to watch their kids while she got Melissa inside. It was a challenging effort, but miraculously, they made it back safely. They received a few strange looks from other staff members, but Janine warded their concerns away with a smile. Once they arrived, she helped Melissa get settled at her desk.

“Don’t worry about your class, I’ll bring them back,” Janine assured her. “Do you need anything while I’m here? I could get Barbara if she’s–”

Melissa immediately shook her head. The very last thing she needed was for Barb to find out. “That's okay.” 

Janine gave a wary look in return, as she wasn’t expecting her coworker to deny that offer. “Are you sure?”

She huffed, sick of the questions, and took a beat before answering. “Just bring my kids back, please. That’s all I need right now.”

She wasn’t in any position to argue with that, so she accepted the task. “Okay, I’ll have them back in no time.”

“Thanks, pipsqueak,” Melissa said, causing the woman to take on a disgruntled look. Though she wasn't happy about the circumstances, she switched her tone to show her true appreciation. “Really, Janine, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiled, happy that she could complete a good deed for the day.

Moments later, Melissa was reunited with her rambunctious class. They came pouring in, not even bothering to take their coats off as they filled the empty space around her desk. Despite the considerable change in climate, they were too invested in her situation to care. 

“We heard you fell.”

“Are the second graders in trouble?”

“Did you break your leg?!”

“Are you going to the hospital?”

“Who’s gonna take us to lunch?”

She broke her silence to address the last comment. “Really, Elijah? That’s what’s on your mind?” 

“I’m sorry, Ms. S, but I’m starving.” He rubbed his belly in broad strokes.

“Don’t worry, you’re gonna get to lunch on time.” While that was great news, it only answered one of their burning questions. They continued to stare her down and she caved at the sincerity. “I know I probably scared some of you, but I’m okay. My leg is not broken, and no, I will not be going to the hospital. Most importantly, no one is in trouble, capisce?”

When she received answers of understanding, she moved on to the next order of business. “Now, let me see who’s gonna walk youse to lunch.”

“Ms. Teagues can take us, or Mrs. Howard!” A student announced excitedly, waving in the direction of the door where both teachers were standing. However, Melissa was so focused on consoling her class and making sure they got fed, that she didn’t notice their presence.

She tried to roll toward the class phone, but it was on the opposite side of the desk. The feat was too large, so she grabbed her cell instead. She scrolled to Janine’s contact, internally swearing that this would be the last favor she asked of her. “Mrs. Howard might be busy, hon, so I think Ms. Teagues is our best bet.”

Elijah grabbed the woman’s attention again. “No, she's not. Mrs. Howard is right there.” He nodded toward the outskirts of the crowd. 

Barbara’s deep eyes shone with concern as they met Melissa’s, but the redhead could only scrunch her face in confusion. What the hell? she thought, but it all made sense once she saw Janine sporting a guilt-ridden expression.

Her lips thinned into a smile as she tried to keep her composure. “Ms. Teagues, do you mind taking them to lunch? I’d appreciate it so much.”

Janine knew what that look meant, so she was quick to speak. “Not at all! Come on guys, grab your lunches if you brought one today.” Once everyone was ready, they made a swift exit because she didn't want to face Melissa’s wrath.

As the last footsteps trickled out, quiet fell over the teachers. Barbara’s eyes never left her best friend, inspecting her from head to toe, watching as Melissa twiddled her thumbs. It irked Barb that she wasn’t paying the slightest attention and she would not tolerate being blatantly ignored. “Melissa Schemmenti! Are you going to tell me what's going on?”

Melissa proceeded to avoid eye contact. She picked up a pen along with a stack of papers as if she were about to grade them. Her petulance sent Barb over the edge. If she didn’t want to tell her, that was fine, but she was tired of this little game.

“You know, I was trying to give you a chance to tell me yourself, but it seems you would rather act like a child.” The woman smirked, knowing her next words would get a reaction. “Janine already told me what happened.”

“I told her to keep her mouth shut!” Melissa curled her hands into fists and banged them against the wood. “I’m gonna kill that girl!”

“Not with one working ankle, you won’t,” Barbara quipped.

“I'll find someone to do it for me.” She shot back, not in the mood for jokes.

Barbara just rolled her eyes, disregarding her friend's dramatic nature. “So what’s your plan? Are you going to roll around in this chair all day?”

“Just leave it alone, will you?” Melissa was getting tired of the third degree from everyone. If she wanted to sit in her room all day, why did it matter to them? It was her injury, not theirs.

“I will not leave it alone! Not until you go see Y/N.”

She looked the older woman directly in her eyes for the first time today. “I’m not goin’, Barb.”

“You will, or I’ll tell them to come to you. Better yet, I'll drag you to an urgent care.” Barbara crossed her arms and gave Melissa a daring look.

“Oh, now you’re out of your mind,” Melissa scoffed. Even though they were in her classroom, if she could get up and walk away, she’d leave Barb right there with her delusions.

The woman gasped audibly at the insinuation that she was crazy. “Trust me, you haven’t seen me out of my mind.”

“You sure? 'Cause that sounds pretty insane to me.” She twisted her pen in a circle near her head, showcasing how absurd the idea sounded.

“No, Melissa, what's insane is you sitting here with an injury, making no attempts to seek medical attention, when there's a perfectly capable nurse in the building!” Her hands moved fervently as she spoke, the pearls around her neck rattling from the action. “Since you won't go on your own, I’ll get someone to take you.” With that, she marched out of the room, having had enough of her obstinacy.

“Barb, don’t you dare!” She yelled, but there was no use as the woman was halfway down the hall due to the speed she was walking.

She groaned in frustration, not faring well with having one working foot. The dull ache was a constant reminder of what occurred, and though she knew it was in her best interest to see you, she wasn't in enough pain to seek your help. But leave it to her colleagues to put their noses into her business.

She reached for her purse and rifled through it before pulling out a compact mirror. If she was going to be seen in this state, she wanted to make sure she looked presentable. As she met her reflection, she frowned. Her hair was out of place, her eyelashes were wonky, and there were a few spots where her makeup had smudged. She fixed what she could, applying lip gloss to finish her look. As she ran a brush through her strands, footsteps approached her room.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” She threw her head back as Gregory came through her door. “Why are you here?”

Gregory almost looked as confused as her, and as he prepared to speak, Barb cut him off.

“To escort you to Y/N's office.” She smiled kindly, directing her pearly whites in Gregory's direction.

Melissa side-eyed the man, adding a mean mug to show her dismay. “But Barb, I don't need—”

“Ah, ah, no buts." She held a hand up to silence her. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go teach, but I expect you to have your injuries mended when you return.” She didn't walk away until she received final confirmation from Gregory.

“Oh, yeah, I'll make sure of it,” he promised. Though he was content with minding his business, he'd only agreed to this because Barb wouldn't take no for an answer.

Melissa sighed as the man moved to stand behind her, in preparation to wheel her out. She turned around so he could understand the grave meaning behind her words. “Just take me there. Don't ask any questions and don't tell anyone what you saw.”

“Oh, I already know how you roll.” After receiving another dirty look from the redhead, he noticed his poor choice of words. He tucked his lips into his mouth, then bowed his head before saying, “I'm sorry.”

You didn’t expect the first day back to be so crazy, but it had been jam-packed with injuries. Nose bleeds, headaches, fevers, stomach aches, you name it. You didn’t mind though because it made the day go faster. You had one more student to tend to before your break, so you decided to clean your office before their arrival. You disinfected the cots and countertops, as well as your little waiting area, and then you took inventory of your supplies and stocked up on whatever you’d need for the last half of the day.

“Hey, nurse Y/N!” Melissa’s student, Daniel, waved excitedly as he entered your office. He gave you a quick hug before retreating to his original spot.

“Hey, buddy! How was your break?” You loved hearing about what the kids did during their time off. He told you about the trip he took to visit family in New York, and how he got to spend the holidays with his grandmother who he hadn’t seen since he was a baby. He also mentioned all the good food he ate and the presents he received. “That’s awesome! It sounds like you had a great time.”

“Yeah, it was pretty great. What did you do?” The curious boy asked.

“I went to Florida,” you said casually, hoping to get a reaction out of him. When he gasped in shock, you flashed a grin in his direction.

“No way! That’s so much cooler than New York.” Daniel was infatuated with Florida, on the account of Disney World, and he made it known that he would save every penny ever given to him in hopes of being able to afford a ticket to the attraction.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t go see Mickey Mouse without you.” You knew the question was on the tip of his tongue. “But it was a pretty cool trip.”

“Ms. Schemmenti went to Florida too!” He informed you, still looking at you with stars in his eyes. 

You smiled as he told you the bits and pieces that Melissa shared with his class, minus the details of her gambling adventures. However, you weren’t sure she left out 100% of the details, because Daniel recalled her saying that she would incorporate some new card games into their math lessons to “teach them some new strategies”. Leave it to Melissa to teach her students how to outsmart each other.

“It sounds like she had a lot of fun!” You exclaimed, taking in the events as if you weren’t there to experience them firsthand. Her students were ridiculously smart, so you were ready for him to catch on to the similarities in your story, but he didn’t. 

You busied yourself with preparing his medication so he could make his way to the cafeteria. Daniel had cystic fibrosis, so he took pancreatic enzymes to aid his absorption of nutrients. He took them before every meal and snack, so he was a frequent flyer in your office. “Alright, dude, I got your pills ready. You just need to get some water.” He gladly accepted the paper cup from your hand and walked toward the water fountain. 

You looked around the room as he took his meds, and the absence of another child caught your attention. Normally, Melissa utilized the buddy system to ensure that her students made it to their destination safely. “Did you walk here by yourself?” 

“No, Ms. Teagues walked us to lunch today.”

You scrunched your eyebrows in pure confusion. “Why was Ms. Teagues taking you to lunch?”

“Ms. Schemmenti hurt herself so she couldn't take us,” he explained.

Hearing Melissa’s name in the same breath as the word ‘hurt’ made your heart rate pick up, but you kept a poker face. “Really? How’d that happen?”

A guilty expression crossed his face, and he released a deep breath before speaking. “Well, we were playing kickball during recess and she fell. It was kind of scary, but then she got up and everything was okay. At least I think she’s okay.”

“What makes you say that?” You tried to get as much information as you could before the bell rang, signaling that it was time for the younger kids’ lunch. 

“She told us she wasn’t in pain, but I don’t think that’s true.”

You hadn’t assessed the woman yet, but you agreed with his statement because you knew how Melissa was. She worked hard to keep up her tough persona, but even the students could see past it sometimes. “You guys really roughed her up out there, huh?”

The boy shrugged sheepishly. “We didn’t mean for her to get hurt. She’s one of our favorite teachers, and we just wanted to have some fun.”

You could see he truly felt bad, so you attempted to cheer him up. “It was very nice of you guys to include her. I’m sure she appreciated that.” You smiled. “Don’t feel too bad, okay?”

He nodded, and with that, the bell rang. You walked him to the exit and sent him on his way, but now without a hug goodbye. “Have a good lunch. I’ll see you later for a snack.” 

Once he made it down the hallway, you focused on the sight directly to your left: Melissa sitting in her desk chair with Gregory at her side, standing against the wall, as if he were her bodyguard (though that would be a pointless duty because everyone knew Melissa didn’t need a guard).

You motioned them into your office so they'd be out of the crossfire of hungry kids. The pair looked at you with blank faces, and you stared at them with your hands on your hips. “Well, what do we have here?”

A/N: Hey, how are ya? It’s been a while and I’ve missed writing immensely. I'm a little nervous about posting again, but I hope this was worth the wait. Let me know what you think, and thank you for reading! P.S. Special thanks to everyone who voted on the poll <3

[1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam]

We moved on from Buck being the one to meet Kim at the station too fast. Way too fast.

Because hey, what would you do if the dead wife or a doppelgänger dead wife of your best friend-partner-almost love of your life showed up at your place of work with brownies? Would you ignore the date you scheduled in favor of driving over to your best friend’s place to knock urgently on his back door because you’re so afraid that something is happening to him. And you know that something is happening because the doppelgänger of his dead wife just showed up to the firehouse with brownies like it was just another Monday. You think you might have to push him to talk, but it feels more like your best friend was just waiting for someone to see him, and he is just as dumbfounded as you, and maybe even as scared for himself as you are for him. So you tell him that he needs to break it off with the doppelgänger of his dead wife, but you know that it’s more complicated than that, your best friend’s feelings, even though you trust him to do the right thing and end it with her. But you’re still not through the shock of seeing the doppelgänger of your best friend’s dead wife standing in the fire station, heart beating, lungs expanding, and so you think that maybe your best friend is still in shock too, and you don’t want to push too hard at his grief-wound. So you leave it for now, and you don’t come back to it until it blows up in your face, and your best friend’s face, and his son’s face too.

So yeah, I’d say that Buck probably has a lot of regrets too about the Kim situation. He’s a fixer, no matter how hard he tries, and they lost the kid both of them love more than anything over the situation. You can’t tell me that Buck hasn’t been screaming crying throwing up about it since May. Fuck that.

It doesn’t matter that we don’t get characters’ inner thoughts (usually) on this show. Buck met Kim, and he talked about it with Eddie twice. That’s crazy. That’s certifiably insane. It’s been six months. The midseason finale is tomorrow. There is no excuse for Eddie and Christopher still not speaking. This is no excuse for Buck and Eddie still never discussing Kim or at least Chris leaving. These characters are not meant to be this horrifically repressed. It is strange. It is out of character. Kim showed up for about four episodes and disappeared into the ether. I want to know what the hell is going on with this storyline.

[calliecwrites]

Shifter HRT, part 1 – Egg, Cracked

So you want to be a shifter? You’ve read about humanity replacement therapy, or species HRT, but can’t find anything about the shifter version? You’re scared, you’re worried this isn’t the path for you, but part of you wants it more than anything?

You’re not alone. I’ve been there. I’m still there. And I’ve taken the first steps. Tomorrow I have my first appointment, though not with a doctor, and if all goes well, by this time tomorrow, I’ll have taken my first dose.

I’m writing this so you’ll have it easier than I did. Also, I want there to be a record, in case something happens to me. I’m not exactly doing this the traditional way.

* * *

I’ve known what I wanted to be since I knew shifters existed. Everything I heard about them – being fluid, shapeshifting – felt right. I started imagining myself as one. If you’re reading this, you probably know how that feels.

I hid it. Even as a kid, I knew people wouldn’t react well to what went on in my head. You’re not supposed to relate to monsters.

Then things got complicated when I realised I was trans. I told myself that wanting to be a shifter was all about wanting to fix my body, since being able to shapeshift would make that easy. I certainly did want that – but I’d imagined myself as a shifter since long before then. I’d imagined being able to change myself in many other ways, before transition became the most important thing. And after transition, so much was better, but that longing didn’t go away.

This isn’t a contradiction. Fixing one thing, even the most urgent thing, like I did, doesn’t automatically fix everything. But I was in denial. I’d transitioned (once); everything was supposed to be fine, now. I told myself the rest was a fantasy.

Then I heard about species HRT. I read about someone becoming a slime – and that did something to me. Slimes are fluid, and so are shifters. Shifters are slime-adjacent, for sure. Maybe this wasn’t just a fantasy. Maybe it could be real.

I’m not in denial anymore. Egg cracked. Time to transition again.

* * *

Were there signs? Oh yes, there were signs.

Nimona. Mystique. Slime girls. The Changelings. And when a character says no solid could ever understand, feeling it like a punch to the gut. Wanting to understand.

Wanting to fly, wanting to swim. Wondering what it’s like to be huge, or tiny, or a tree, or a rock. Wanting to be everything. Fluidity. Freedom. Flowing and pooling, wanting to be a blob of goo with no form at all.

Learning to phantom-sense extra limbs. Being a shifter in daydreams. Learning to lucid dream so I could learn to shapeshift in there. Still being sad because it could only ever be an approximation.

Sitting by the lake, longing to merge with the water and lose myself for a while. Wishing it wasn’t water, but other shifters, welcoming.

Sometimes want isn’t the word at all, but need.

And there are people who can actually do these things, and I can’t? How is that fair? What sort of world has shifters in it and I’m not one?

Sound familiar?

I read everything I can find about them. Not stories written by humans – those aren’t accurate. Most are just sex, or all about fear and hunger and absorption. Shifters don’t absorb people! – it’s their biggest taboo. I read stories shifters write for themselves – and I can’t get enough. Just don’t look in the comments: you’ve got humans calling them monsters, telling them what they should go do to themselves – and a few brave shifters saying how much the stories mean to them. Sometimes the stories disappear, but they always come back.

‘Fluid as the ocean, wild as the wind, and cannot be contained.’ That’s a thing they say about themselves. That should be me.

I don’t comment, don’t interact – hiding, remember? But the stories mean so much to me, too. They’re a window onto how my life could be. I tried to tell myself this was just a sex thing for a while – more denial. There are plenty other stories I could read, if that was all I wanted. But that isn’t what I imagine when I imagine shifters, or even shifter sex. I imagine being one.

Haters would call me a traitor to my own species. They’d call me sick, mentally ill, monsterfucker, monster. Like I haven’t heard all that before for being trans. I want to tell them I’m nothing like them, that they can keep their precious humanity if this is what it looks like – but I don’t dare. I’m too afraid: what if they’re right? I know what I want to be, I know what I should be, but I look at my body and think: this is what I am, fixed, solid, human. I can’t do anything about it, no matter what I am on the inside, no matter how much I hate it. And this is familiar, too – I felt the same way before my first transition. Trapped as something I hated being. Powerless.

* * *

Except, now, there is something I can do about it.

No doctors prescribe shifter HRT – unlike for other species. The only source is the few shifters who figured out how to make it. They keep it tightly controlled, so they can control who gets it. They want to make sure we meet their standards – that we’re shifter enough. I don’t like that. But other people, who want to make it freely available, haven’t figured out how to make it yet.

I’m not waiting for them, not now that I’ve decided. I couldn’t. I could die – accidents happen, after all. How would I feel, knowing I was dying human, still wondering what it would have been like? Never really having been me? No. I’m not waiting.

So I got in touch, and I spoke to one of them online. She arranged the appointment, and now she’s flying in – and I’m pretty sure that means as a bird, not on a plane. All I have to do is convince her. Tomorrow determines everything. If it goes well, I’ll be starting right away.

I still can’t quite believe it. It feels too good to be true. But it is. It really is. It was the same before – I couldn’t believe anything would change till I took my first dose of estrogen. Sometimes reason isn’t enough, planning isn’t enough, sometimes it takes direct contradiction to break the hold a belief like that can have on me. I’ll never take hormones, meet I am now taking hormones. Suddenly I see I was wrong, and there is hope again.

And tomorrow it’s going to happen again. Hopefully. Finally.

And then I really won’t be human.

Next

I'm doing one of these now too! Inspired by the many other animal HRT stories, especially the two slime HRT series by @sandyca5tle and @scrubbinn. In the beginning it's drawing a lot on my own transition, but will be going very different places.

If you want to read more without waiting for the rest of the series, take a look at my other stories – shifters turn up in lots of them.

Oh and that list of signs? They're all real :)

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[missmarveledsblog]

A KIND OF SEX EDUCATION ( PART THREE) ( PLATONIC Cas , winchesters x reader)

SUMMARY : Cas finds onlyfans , all it not what it seems though

warning : its just pure crack and fun

Turns out even as traumatising as the last time of cas curiosities didn’t actually have too bad of out come and as much as she had hated to admit dean was right about them dating . although never in the bunker was it peaceful for too long . turns out bobby was her dad and she learned new thing about her parents no child should ever learn …ever. 

Something else was different too every night at 8 pm cas would disappear off into his room even when on hunt he would head off some where always at 8pm , of course they were curious  but after last few ordeal with the angel well the curiosity was just not enough to investigate . well until ..

“ i am in love and i think it time i brought her here” he said  completely out of the blue . 

“ you have a girlfriend good job buddy … don’t show her your internet history though” dean snorted only for y/n to slap him in back of the head. 

“ she’s real right?” sam asked needing clarifications after poor guy fell for an A.i bot . 

“ she’s very real we talk every night at 8pm . 

“ that’s great cas maybe we can go for a double date sometime “ y/n beamed more for the fact it probably the most normal interaction she had with the angel in what felt forever . 

“ i shall ask her although she said friends cost extra” he said heading off to his room as they all shared a look. 

“ who the hell is spending 500 dollars a night on …” bobby called. 

“ you go in i’m not going in , i’m always the one here for this shit” she argued as three stood out his door. 

“ oh for fuck sake  i’m moving out” she whined. 

......

“ you’re nicer though he listens to you and better than him he’ll break his heart” sam reasoned . 

“ why aren’t you in the equations” she scoffed. 

“ i don’t want to deal with it to be honest” sam huffed. 

“ how about we all go talk to him i mean plus lets see what she like she could be nice gal for all we know” dean grinned. 

“ do you like having a girlfriend” she glared . 

“ point taken you should take this one” he smiled pushing her into the room. 

“ another tip from my angel any requests” the voice called as y/n was ready to burst into tears thinking maybe wifi in the bunker was over rated.

“ hey cas i need to erm talk to you it’s urgent” . 

“ why are you're eyes covered if its urgent” she could already picture his tilted head and confused face but she was afraid just incase his little saint was out awaiting . “ i got to go my love i will come back tomorrow” he called as silence filled the room god this was going to like shooting bambi’s mother. 

“ he’s dressed sweetheart” was all dean voice said echoing down the  hall. 

“ oh thank fuck , hey buddy can we talk” she asked softly and wishing she was well anywhere else. 

“ of course it is urgent” he nodded. 

“ jesus how do i go about this?” she sighed rubbing her temples. 

“ are you pregnant? I noticed the little weight but i didn’t want to mention it” he looked down at her stomach. 

“ getting less hard , no i’m not pregnant may need to go on a diet though… nevermind cas whats your loves name?” she shook her head staying on point albeit less confident then before .

“Angel lady six nine” he beamed proudly . 

“ oh you poor sap it’s sixty nine  not the the point cas have you talk with her like in person or …” . 

“ on only fans gabriel sent me the link said it was a website for meeting exciting women and now i met my love and she makes me so happy … and it make my hands want to do the thing i see ” he smiled . 

“ well i’m glad, good chatting buddy” she backed out the room definitely not the one to be dealing with this . 

So now here sam was while dean was telling y/n she wasn’t fat.  He could do it rip the bandaid off but provide some sort of comfort maybe bring him somewhere to meet real woman that wouldn’t send them to the poor house. 

“ hey cas can we talk” he smiled awkwardly seeing the angel eyes locked on screen .

“ of course it seems as everyone wants to do that tonight” he place it down as sam caught a glimpse of the page he was on . 

“ your love isn’t well actually love” he cut to the point . 

“ why not she tells me all the time” his head tilted like a confused puppy. 

“ that’s cause you give her five hundred dollars a night i mean she call you king of the world for that sort of money” . 

“ she shows me her things like…” he began to explain. 

“ i don’t need to know that .. but she not really in love with you buddy just the money you give her?” sam asked watching his reaction seeing the cogs turn in the mans head. 

“  i don’t get it” he finally said. 

“ ok… goodnight” sam huffed walking out as dean stormed  . 

“ hello dean” cas smiled. 

“ ok buddy you're dating a prostitute electronically needs to stop or we can’t buy pie so stop wasting the money online great talk buddy” he shut the door as the other two watched him walk off in victory . 

“ nothing wrong with earning money like that woman power ,  just not ours cas” y/n winced at her boyfriends way with words following after. 

They sat worried as cas never showed up for breakfast  , y/n even checked to see his room empty to which sam said to give him space. 

“ jesus your right that was like shooting bambi” sam called heading in the same direction. 

......

“ but what if we made him run away” she pouted. 

“ he’s literally older than all of us and an angel” dean shrugged. 

“ but he’s a baby in a trench coat you say it all time” she pointed out . 

“ the kitchen is through here , would you like a drink” the voice called out. 

“ oh water is fine” a female voice replied as the two appeared making them not only drop their jaws but whatever was in their face as the woman followed behind. 

“ is that…” she whispered. 

“ the hook..OWW” Dean yelled as y/n kicked him . 

“This my love  angel , angel these are my friends who think your a hooker”  cas said as sam choked on his drink.

“We don’t think your a hooker” y/n smiled weakly . 

“ actually we do  onlyfans means one thing … not that i would know i’ve never seen it before” dean corrected himself as his girlfriend glared. 

“ you know people do other things on onlyfans not only sexwork right “ angel crossed her arms. 

“ come on angel sixty nine” dean scoffed. 

“ six point nine my birthday is the 9th of june” she answered.

“ look we don’t slut shame but you make his hands wanna move” sam pointed out . 

“ to teach him to draw” she gasped .

 “ five hundred dollars to paint really cas” bobby walked in. 

“ he doesn’t pay me a dollar” angel pointed out . 

“ where our money going then” y/n brow furrow. 

“ wait that’s real money i though it was pretend money” jack walked in with his tablet showing them the gambling site he was on . 

“Wait so she's not a hooker” dean asked confused. . 

“ sorry angel” the called in unison .

" we're getting rid of the wifi i can't be dealing with this shit" y/n called heading out the room .

@pizzagirlxnsfwx hope you enjoy part three :)

[mattyriddlegf]

The Stupid Closet (5)

hey everyone, happy Sunday release day! I hope you enjoy this one (also posted to my Wattpad: mattyriddlegf) :)

Comment to be added to the tag list as always!

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“Hey, you wanna go for a walk?” Draco asks you.

“Sure, that sounds nice” You smile. You drop off the stuff at Draco’s dorm and head back out, walking to the library in the process.

“So you wanna tell me what's going on?” Draco asks immediately, not wasting any time.

“What do you mean?” You ask. 

Draco stops walking and turns to you as you stop too, “you can be honest with me.”

You loved Draco so much and were really grateful for him being your best friend but you also knew that that meant he knew you better than anyone else.

“Draco, nothing is happening.” He looked into your eyes, furrowing his brows.

“I don’t believe you.” He states, “I saw the way Mattheo looked at you before he left.”

“It’s nothing, I promise. He just said something that Theo didn’t like the other night, that’s all” You shrug, only telling half the truth. He didn’t need to know about the shared kisses.

He takes a long pause before responding, “Alright, fine. But you can come to me, you know that right?”

You smile gently before nodding, “Yeah I know, thank you.”

You walk up to the library doors, stopping just outside.

“I promised Pansy I’d help her with the Transfiguration homework that’s due tomorrow, wanna join?”

“Oh no, I think I’m gonna head back to the house actually. Thanks though.” You smile before Draco enters the library, leaving you alone in the hallway.

You walk back to the Slytherin house. The common room is surprisingly empty. You look to your right to see Mattheo working at a desk by himself. 

“Hi.” You say as you walk up, leaning against the desk to get him to stop working.

“Hi.” Mattheo responds, watching you.

“Were you talking about me earlier?” You blurt out.

“When? You have to be more specific.” Mattheo responds, smirking.

“Earlier at lunch you said that Theo doesn’t appreciate what he has. Was that about me?” You ask urgently. You had to know.

“So what if it was?” The smirk drains from his face as he responds back with a question.

“Matty. I’m serious.” You look at him for a moment, him not giving a response, “Look, if it was about me, you can’t just say stuff like that” Mattheo is looking at the lamp on the desk, contemplating.

“I meant what I said. He doesn’t.” He looks over to you, dead serious.

“Mattheo please. He does…” You trail off. 

“Not like he should.” He mutters out quietly, “If I had you I-”

“But you don’t. Theo does. Theo has me.” You respond. Whatever was happening between you two, it had to stop. You enjoyed not hating each other anymore but you were in a relationship with Theo and you had to honor that.

“What are you doing here?” Mattheo asks.

Someone walks in the common room, you pause and watch them until they go into their dorm.

“You have to understand that my mind is going in a million places right now. I’ve kissed you. Several times in fact and naked, while I’ve been with Theo. That’s cheating. I cheated on Theo and I have to live with that.” You start rambling.

“You ramble when you’re upset.” Mattheo says. He thinks for a moment before standing up, just inches away from you.

“Just say the words and I’ll stay away. I’ll let you and Theo have the perfect little relationship you think you have and I won’t get in the way.” 

You stare into his eyes, trying your hardest to not get lost in them, “I want that.” You whisper. You couldn’t even convince yourself that you meant what you were saying.

“Fine.” Mattheo grabbed his books on the desk and walked off not looking back this time. 

You felt a single tear start streaming down your face, you wiping it with your arm before more follow. This is what you wanted, you wanted Theo. Not Mattheo.

You go back to your dorm and spend the rest of the afternoon trying to study but you had a hard time focusing. You hadn’t talked to Theo since he stormed out of lunch so you were worried about that as well. 

Pansy comes back from her studying to change for dinner, grabbing you along. You weren’t even hungry, probably from stress. You’re convinced that sitting in the same room as Theo and Mattheo would kill you.

You get to dinner, sitting down next to Theo. 

“Hey”

“Hey” Theo responds, smiling softly. You return the smile as he places his hand on your thigh. After he does that, you look over to see Mattheo watching you, clenching his jaw enough to notice. You look away before you regret it.

Throughout the entire dinner, Theo seemed normal, no longer upset about what happened at lunch. Him and Mattheo had been best friends since year one of Hogwarts and while they could butt heads sometimes, they were always there for each other. You just hoped that nothing would ever come between them.

You head back to the Slytherin house with the group, staying in the common room with Theo, everyone else splitting up. Theo sits on the velvet green couch next to the fire, you sitting next to him, leaning in.

“You know I really like you right?” You ask as you yawn.

“I really like you too.” Theo responds. You lay your head on his shoulder, listening to the fire crackle.

After about 20 minutes, Theo rubs your arm, waking you up, “Hey let’s go to bed”. 

You yawn as you get up and start walking to your dorm. When you reach your dorm door, Theo pecks you in the lips, “Goodnight cara mia”

“Goodnight Theo”. You watch him walk to his dorm. When he opens the door, Mattheo walks out with a cigarette and a lighter. He stops in the hall, looking at you.

You smile gently but this time, he doesn’t return the smile, just averting his eyes elsewhere before walking away.

You enter your room, Pansy painting her toes, sitting on her bed. You immediately change and get ready for bed, desperately needing a full night of sleep.

Today has felt like one of the longest days in a long time and you haven’t been this mentally exhausted in a while. You could only hope that at least the next few days would be easier.

You fall asleep quickly, Pansy going to bed shortly after you.

“Mattheo I need help with this, I can’t get it” You say trying to tighten the back of your corset dress.

Mattheo walks up behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders for a second, “Hey, I’m glad I’m here with you” he whispers in your ear before moving his hands to the corset, pulling it tight and tying it.

He hugs you from the back after he’s done, “I love you sweet girl”

“I love you too Matty.” You spin around in his arms, standing on your tippy toes to reach him, connecting your lips with his.

This kiss was slow, passionate, and sweet. You pull back, “They’re gonna love you” you smile before continuing, “Not as much as I do though”

Mattheo was meeting your parents.

You could tell he was nervous, not being sure what to say or do.

“Seriously Mattheo, they will adore you. I adore you.” You say, holding his cheek as he smiles.

You wake up, the sun blaring in your dorm window. You look around, seeing Pansy in the bathroom.

“Good, you're finally up! Good dream huh?” Pansy asks, spraying herself with perfume.

The thing was…it was a good dream. A great dream even. But you couldn’t say that because it was with Mattheo, not your boyfriend. Shit.

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