#i was eight again and holding my sister's hand as we watched the door of the delivery room with sleepy eyed stares

[theres-a-bea]

birthday cake

[marlenesluv]

hi there. can i request a fluff one shot with Max Verstappen? Where basically he is secretly dating Danny Rich’s sister, and one time Daniel wanted to surprise her sister back in Perth when he noticed that the house felt different. Like she has like 5 dogs that would always happily greet him, but they didn’t that time cause the dogs were happily with Max and Daniel’s sister. Cheers x.

Puppy Love. (MV)

note: awe, this is so cute!! for sure i can do this :) i hope you like it! (sorry this took so long) also, i made it so daniel didn't know about them at first, hope that's okay!

pairing: max verstappen x ricciardo!reader

warnings: none! this is j fluff

masterlist here -> masterlist link

^ check my list for all posts! ^

Daniel Ricciardo knew his sister never wanted to move out of Perth. She loved the beaches and the warm weather. So visiting Monaco was usually out of the question. But when he saw his sisters Instagram story, he questioned that logic.

She posted a photo of dinner with Carmen, George, and someone he couldn't make out due to the photo being too blurry. Which, he figured, was on purpose.

Y/n, on the other hand, was enjoying her night out with Max, George, and Carmen. Carmen was the only person who knew that her and Max had been secretly dating for about six months now. She assured Y/n that George wouldn't tell anyone, despite some people thinking he's a gossip...which he is. But he swore to keep it private. He understood them being nervous.

"You okay, liefde?" Max asked, seeing you look at your phone with furrowed brows as you bit your bottom lip.

Exhaling, and sending your response to Daniel, you smiled up at Max and nodded. "Daniel's just texting me. He saw my story, wanted to know why I was in Monaco randomly." Max hummed and nodded, putting his hand on your thigh to try to ease the anxiety.

"Y/n, did you hear me?" Carmen smiled, watching the interaction between you and Max. George took a large gulp of his water as he sputtered, "Guys, these fries are way too seasoned-" he coughed again, Carmen smacking his back.

Max laughed quietly, sipping his water as you took a bite of your food and shook your head and smiled.

"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt with my cough. Go on." George wiped his mouth and sipped some water.

"Sorry, Carm. I didn't hear what you said, what's up?"

"It's okay! I just asked what time you and Max were planning on leaving and going back to Perth."

"Oh, um.... Max? What time did you want to leave again?"

Max leaned back, "It's up to you. We need to get back to the dogs soon. Jimmy and Sassy want to go this time I think." You smiled at his response, "I guess we're leaving tonight."

Carmen smiled and nodded, George and Max now conversing about the next season. You were excited to go back home to the dogs and Daniel, knowing he probably wanted to see you too.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"Do you think the dogs missed us? Because I missed them- hey! Don't set Jimmy down, I'll hold him." Max frowned as your eyes went wide. "Okay...um, yeah. I'm sure they missed us."

Immediately as the door opened, all five dogs came running towards the door, leaving you just enough time to shut the door so they couldn't run out. Chasing dogs was not fun.

Having the dogs, however, was the best. Scout was an eight-year-old Border Collie. He was your first dog, which you bought when you moved into your apartment seven years ago at the age of eighteen. Scout was one of the calmest dogs you would ever meet. He really was the biggest cuddle dog.

Then, there was Rocco. Rocco was rambunctious, to say the least. He's a chocolate lab that's six years old. Rocco, fun fact, actually met Roscoe, Lewis' dog. You brought Rocco when he was a puppy to the Australian Grand Prix when you got him. Lewis, coincidently, had Roscoe with him. It really was an adorable sight.

Marley was your sweet girl. She's a four-year-old cocker spaniel. She's a sweetheart, really. You loved the way her tail went about a hundred miles per hour when you came home, even if just for going for a run. Max would argue that Marley has attachment issues, but you just ignore that.

Then, there were the two goldens you adopted last year from the rescue: Mochi and Sushi. You may have named them when you were hungry...but who cares. They are both one, and Mochi, a girl. Sushi, a boy. They both kind of looked like Charles and Alexandras dog, Leo.

Maybe you had too many dogs in some people's eyes. But you had a big apartment, and living alone was a little depressing. Yeah, Max flew out to stay over a lot. If he wasn't racing, he was in Perth with you. And you usually came to the races with Daniel. Heidi was a busy woman, and you wanted Daniel to feel supported.

Not to mention how most of the girls loved your apartment. Carmen came to visit a lot, along with Kika and Lily. Alexandra just started coming over as well, usually with Charles, Joris, and Leo. Rebecca also started coming over as well. Let's just put it this way, everyone saw your apartment as a great hangout spot.

You had a lot of windows, all overlooking the beautiful beaches and buildings in Perth. Being smack in the middle of the big city made for gorgeous nights as well. The kitchen was huge and spacious. Your apartment was your safe haven, always making it comfortable to come home and relax.

When you started dating Max six months ago, you brought him to see your apartment. He knew you loved it from previous conversations you had with Daniel when Max was around about when you first moved in.

Max was basically there from the beginning. He knew you since you were both teens. From your first breakup, your failed exam grade in uni, and arguments with Daniel. Max loved hearing you talk; he knew that for sure.

Since the day he first met you, he knew he wanted to try to date you. Your smile drew him in, your laugh made his day, and your personality was addicting. He loved you from the second he saw you.

"Liefje, do you want to watch a movie?" Max asked, looking at you as you grabbed two waters from the fridge. "Yeah, sure. How about Stepbrothers?" You smiled, sitting down next to him on the sectional.

Max laughed, "Alright. Scout? Come here, bud." Scout jumped onto the couch beside you, Jimmy and Sassy on the blanket next to Max. It's like Scout knew that even when Max called him, he knew Max was calling him for you.

As the movie started, Mochi and Sushi went to lay down at the opposite end of the couch. They fell asleep on each other in a matter of seconds.

Marley and Rocco were walking around the house, occasionally entertaining each other by chasing each other around. As you and Max cuddled on the couch and watched your movie, Daniel planned to surprise you.

He knew you were home, you told him that you had landed back in Perth and that you'd be home for a while. And since it had felt like forever, he thought he would show up to your apartment with the key you gave him and cook you guys some dinner.

What he didn't know was that you were already busy, and he didn't expect it.

As he took the private elevator up to your floor, he checked his watch, it read 10:03pm. A little late, but the number of times you guys showed up at each other's home late into the night was plentiful.

Daniel walked up to your door, pausing as he thought he heard something. He thought about texting you but figured it might be the dog sitter. So he unlocked the door and stepped in, trying not to make too much noise to scare the dog sitter.

He found it weird that as he walked in, the dogs didn't come greet him, though. The dogs always ran to the door and jumped on him, happy to see him. He was confused.

What Daniel didn't expect to see when he walked into the living room was you and Max. You and Max cuddled up on the couch watching one of your favorite movies. Not to mention his cats. Neither of you even noticed Daniel.

"What's this?" Daniel spoke, earning a yelp from you and Max jumping off the couch, thinking there was an intruder.

"What the fuck, Daniel?! You can't just break in like that!" You yelled, throwing the blanket off of you to stand next to Max as he paused the movie.

"It isn't breaking in, Y/n. You gave me a key." He said, dangling the key between his fingers.

"Oh.." you bit your lip, Max exhaling as he ran his fingers through the top of his hair.

"You didn't answer my original question. What is this?" Daniel asked again, pointing between you and Max.

"Um.. Daniel, I really don't want you to freak out-"

Daniel cut you off, "What?" Max sighed, "Mate, it's not a big deal, okay? We've only been dating for six months, and she was going to tell you soon."

You sighed, watching Daniel take a deep breath and nod. "Okay, fine. You're happy then?" Daniel asked you.

"Mhmm, I really am, Dan."

Daniel nodded again, "Good. I guess it really only was a matter of time."

To this, you and Max shared a confused look and looked back at Daniel.

"What? You guys seriously think I haven't noticed the way Y/n leaves every race to go 'check out the other garages.' and how you guys talk after almost every race?"

"I mean, I didn't think you noticed..." You trailed off, Marley barking for pets from Daniel.

"Hi, Mars." Daniel cooed, petting Marley as he laughed. "I guess if you're going to date someone, I'm glad it's Max."

Max perked up, "Really?"

"Yeah, man. I trust you; I know you. I also know where you live if I need to come break your toes if you hurt her." Daniel raised his brows.

"I'm not going to hurt her you, nimrod. But thanks."

You smiled; glad Daniel didn't make a big deal. "Okay, um, I kind of want to finish my movie... want to stay, Dan?"

Daniel shook his head, "Nah, I'll go. We can get lunch tomorrow. I'll bring Heidi?" Daniel asked, walking towards the front door.

"Yeah, I'll text you. Thank you, Daniel." You gave him a hug as he ruffled your hair, "Yeah, whatever. Have fun-" You started to close the door as he spoke again, "Wait! Not too much fun!" The door was shut now.

Daniel smacked on the door, "Hey! Y/N? Max? Damnit." Daniel let his head fall on the door as someone on the same floor as you looked at Daniel strangely and sighed.

"I'm her brother- I just, yeah you don't care." Daniel sighed, leaving you and Max alone...something he still shudders at to this day.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

[alloftheimaginesblog]

intoxicating {benedict bridgerton}

plot: you're an old family friend of the bridgertons', benedict hasn't seen you in years and when he does, boy does he fall fast.

character: benedict bridgerton x plus size female reader

note: i'm back bitchessss :)

You wrung your hands nervously in your lap as you waited for the carriage to stop. A gloved hand took yours, "Do not fret, my darling," your mama said, voice as sweet as honey, "they are old friends, you need not worry."

"I know, mama," you said forcing a quick smile, "I wonder if they will recognise me, it has been quite an age since we last met."

She rolled her eyes with a teasing smile, "Of course they will. You and Colin still keep in regular contact, hm?" You nodded. You and Colin had been the best of friends growing up, Violet Bridgerton had always teased maybe the two of you would grow up to fall in love but you were just friends, that is all. You and Daphne had been close too, with her just two years behind you, she was like the sister you never had. "And Daphne, of course... Perhaps Benedict will be there." She hadn't forgotten your crush on the elder Bridgerton brother.

Despite yourself, your cheeks felt hot and you quickly ducked your head trying to not show your mama your embarrassment, "Mama, hush." She laughed knowingly.

It had been years since you had last set eyes on any of the Bridgerton family and yet, Benedict still had a hold on you. You were a few years younger than him but growing up beside the Bridgertons', you couldn't help the crush that formed. And now, almost a decade since you had last seen any of them, he still had some sort of control over you.

"That was all but a childhood crush," you frowned, "I do not still like Benedict Bridgerton."

Oh but how wrong you were.

The carriage stilled and a moment later, the door swung open and you were looking out towards the Bridgerton house, the home you used to run around the halls of.

Oh dear lord.

Music and chatter filled the hall as people flocked inside. Tonight, the Bridgertons' were throwing a ball in honour of the late Lord Bridgerton as this is what would be his anniversary. You and your Mama had been invited and after just moving back to London, you jumped at the chance to reconnect with old friends.

Almost immediately, your mama was whisked away by Lady Danbury, "Go," your mama encouraged, "find your old friends. Have fun." You did not want her to go. If anything, you wanted to latch onto her the whole time. Being here, in uncertainty, filled you with dread and anxiety. You watched her go before you tentatively stepped further into the hall, looking around trying to catch a glimpse of a familiar face. Then, you saw him.

Benedict Bridgerton.

He was older, of course he was, he would be eight and twenty now with you four years behind. His dark hair was tousled to absolute perfection, his eyes glinting in the light as he laughed with some men you looked very similar - Colin and it must've been Anthony. They were all so extraordinarily handsome; same dark hair and same sharp jawline. Seeing Benedict sent a flurry of butterflies into your stomach. He was so handsome, so effortlessly charming; one smile and you were gone. All at once, you felt like you were thirteen again giggling and blushing at the mere sight of him.

It was then a squeal sounded from beside you, "(y/n)!" And you were enveloped in a warm hug. It was Daphne, you realised and eased into the hug, "Oh, (y/n), it is simply delightful to see you again!" When she pulled away, you could appreciate how she had grown up into a beautiful young woman.

"Daphne," you beamed, "you are... Look at you!" You hugged her tightly again, "It is so wonderful to be back."

After your hellos, Daphne linked arms with you and began to walk with you, "I heard from my Mama that you met your match with a certain Duke of Hastings." At the mention of her new husband, Daphne's face split into a wide grin.

"Oh, we have so much to catch up on, (y/n)!"

It had been an hour or so since you had arrived at the Bridgerton Ball and you and Daphne had stood in the corner of the room catching up on any and all life events over the course of the last decade. You may have still written to each other every month but it was different getting to explore such events in person. She was wed to the Duke of Hastings which meant she was a Duchess, "Oh, you shall have to come and visit us. It is just so grand!" She clutched your hand and smiled so wide and you could feel her happiness radiating from her being.

"How rare it is," you mused, "a love match." You had always hoped it would happen to you but it just did not. A marriage was not your first priority at the minute but you did always hope for a love match as rare as they were.

"It was not always going to be one. At first we drove each other mad but soon, it developed and now..." She looked down at her lemonade with a wide smile, "and..." Her eyes shifted ensuring no one else was watching and when she finally landed back on you, her eyes were aglow with excitement, "we have a secret." Her left hand fell to her stomach and it took everything in you to not scream with excitement for her.

"Oh, Daphne!" You beamed, hugging her tightly, "What wonderful news!"

"You must not tell anyone, it is only my mother and Simon that know. I have not yet told my siblings."

"I swear, your secret is safe with me."

It was then you felt a tap on the shoulder, "Mi'lady, I do believe that after this many years of not seeing each other, you do owe me a dance." His voice was deeper now but still familiar, still warm like honey.

"Colin!" You turned and found him opening his arms to you which you moved into happily. A little much for being in public but neither of you cared. The Bridgertons' didn't exactly like following rules anyway. He was taller with that same dark hair as his brothers and that chiselled jawline. When he pulled back it was then you could appreciate the beauty of time. He, too, was handsome and his eyes were still so kind, something that was rare these days. When he extended his hand, you gladly accepted his invitation to dance.

Daphne moved to find her elder brothers as Colin whisked you onto the dance floor. Benedict welcomed Daphne over with a wide smile and went to take a drink from his champagne when he suddenly stilled, eyes focused on something - or rather someone. "Something troubling you?" Daphne nudged him though she already had a feeling she knew what he was about to ask.

He lowered his drink, "Who is that delectable thing that Colin is dancing with and how in the world did he ever manage to get her to agree to dance with him?"

Daphne laughed slightly, "Why, brother, do you not recognise her? Perhaps you should take a closer look." Benedict squinted. You and Colin were laughing, your smile wide and happy as you threw your head back. You were exquisite and then it clicked.

"(y/n) (y/l/n)."

"Oh," Anthony nodded, "so it is. My, how she has really grown up, mm brother?" He nudged Benedict's side with a knowing smirk. Anthony knew fine well what his brother would be thinking and feeling at the mere sight of you. You were gorgeous and you were exactly Benedict's type.

Benedict swallowed. When you were growing up, with him being four years older, he just thought you were some annoying kid who would blush every time he spoke to you. He remembered that you and Colin were best friends, always together causing chaos and Benedict had participated sometimes but other than that, he kept his distance. He was four years older and when you were children, that seemed like two different worlds. However now was different. You were an adult, four and twenty to his eight and twenty, that was barely anything.

Anthony was right. You had filled out and grown into yourself. Before when you were timid and shy, you now were confident and proud. You did not care that you and Colin kept forgetting steps and kept trodding on the other's toes because you were so caught up in the moment of being reunited. Your cheeks rosy and warm, lips plump and red, eyes glittering in the candlelight... You had filled out perfectly with curves in exactly the right places, full and soft. Benedict swallowed and briefly closed his eyes before he made his decision.

"Excuse me," he said as he drained the remnants of his glass and thrust the champagne flute hastily in Anthony's direction. Anthony smirked, taking it and placing it onto a nearby waiter's tray. He and Daphne watched him weave his way through the crowd to stop beside you and Colin.

"May I cut in?" He asked.

Startled, you looked at him, face immediately heating up as you realised who was asking to dance with you. Benedict's eyes bore into your own, he never once looked to his younger brother and instead focused all of his attention on you. It made you nervous. You looked to Colin who rolled his eyes, "You know it is rather rude to interrupt a dance, brother. The dance is just about to end-"

"I did not ask you, Colin." Your eyes moved from Colin to Benedict who repeated his question though his tone was softer when he spoke to you, "May I cut in?"

The confidence he had seen in you moments previous seemed to vanish. He smirked knowing that he made you nervous. Words were lost and all you could do was nod. Colin rolled his eyes again, "She is all yours, Ben." He dropped your hands and Benedict picked them back up again, never breaking eye contact with you.

Your heart hammered hard in your chest as you and Benedict began to dance. The music ended and yet, here the two of you were still dancing on a dancefloor that was beginning to clear. Yes, the next song would start in a few minutes but this... this was improper. This was considered impolite to a lot of people; scandalous. From your left, you could see your mama standing with Lady Bridgerton, Violet, and they were... smiling? They did not seem to be angered by yours and Benedict's continuing dance, instead they looked happy? Around you, you could feel the eyes on you and you could practically hear the gossip being shared around the room. Daphne had filled you in about Lady Whistledown and you knew that you would definitely be featured in tomorrow's issue. You were certainly making a lasting impression. Benedict could see that confidence falter and his words broke you out of your thoughts, "Ignore it, ignore them all... Look at me, focus on me." You took a breath and met his eyes again and oddly enough, instead of feeling nervous or embarrassed, a calmness washed over you when you looked at him, "There," he smiled, "Better?"

You nodded, "Better."

"When did you return to London? Was it France you were?"

"Day before yesterday," you said, "Yes, we moved to France. My father had business but my family could move back since my father's work brought him back here. We were able to move back into our old home."

Benedict smiled, "The one with the cherry trees outside and apple trees in the back, yes?" You nodded, "How long has it been since you left?"

"A long time," you laughed slightly, "Around ten years."

"Are you glad to be back?" He asked. He seemed to move with such skill and ease, dancing came naturally to him whereas it took you years of practice to be able to do a good waltz.

"You know, you ask a lot of questions," you teased making Benedict smile, "Yes, I am. It is nice to be back home and lovely to be back with old friends."

Benedict nodded, "So you are not missing anyone from back in France then?"

Smirking, you asked, "Is this your way of asking if I am wed or to be wed or even as much as being courted, Benedict?"

The older Bridgerton boy laughed, "Clearly I was not as discreet as I wanted to be." The violinists began to pick up signalling the second dance was starting and the dancefloor began to fill with people again. Benedict switched dancing styles with ease and a smile.

"To answer your question, no. Friends, yes, but nothing more than mere friends."

"Really?" The corners of his mouth turned upwards, "I must say, that surprises me greatly."

Your eyebrow quirked, "And why is that, Lord Bridgerton?"

"Look at you," he lowered his head so that he was now only mere inches from you, "absolutely divine." Once again, your heart began to thud as your whole body grew heated, "Forgive me for overstepping but you are the most beautiful woman in this place, in the whole Ton. You are simply intoxicating."

You couldn't look at him, too flustered to do anything except let out a giggle which only furthered your embarrassment. It was like you were a girl again, giggling and blushing. Benedict's hand let go of yours as he placed his thumb and index finger on your chin, tilting your head upwards to look at him in the eyes, "Do not hide," he whispered. The two of you slowed and then stilled in the middle of the dance floor, "You need not hide from me."

You couldn't help it but your eyes fleeted to his lips. You had grown up wanting nothing more than to be noticed by him and now, here you were. He had finally noticed you.

Then all at once, all of a sudden it dawned on you where you were and what was happening. You cleared your throat, taking a step away from Benedict and dropping away from his touch, "Lord Bridgerton," you said, curtseying and once again hiding your face from him, "I think we have perhaps overstayed our welcome on the dance floor."

With haste, you turned and left the dance floor. Benedict didn't follow, not yet. He had moved too fast, went too far. Clearing his throat, he forced a smile to some gossiping onlookers before he went to find his brothers.

You had not stayed long at the Bridgerton Ball after that, finding your heart wouldn't stop racing and your mind wouldn't stop replaying what had happened. You hadn't wanted to leave so soon but after hearing an unpleasant comment from a rather unpleasant girl, you found your mama, made your excuses and the two of you made your way home.

"Poor girl does not even realise that Lord Bridgerton was only dancing with her out of sheer pity. How on Earth could he ever truly be with someone that looks like that? He was merely pitying her, clearly."

The comment had not stopped repeating in your mind extinguishing the burning hope that Benedict's eyes set alight the moment he looked into yours. How stupid of you to think even for a moment that he had finally noticed you after all this time? How stupid of you to hope that he could feel for you the way that you felt for him? How stupid.

And then Lady Whistledown had something to say about it as well. Daphne and Colin had told you about Lady Whistledown in their letters but you never actually expected to feature in one of the issues!

It seems as though, dear reader, a certain Bridgerton man may be off the market soon enough. An old friend returned to the Ton, (y/n) (y/l/n), and it seems that she made quite the impression on the eligible bachelor. They seemed rather taken with each other that they continued to dance despite the song ending... rather impolite and improper if you ask me, dear reader. However, the dance ended rather abruptly with (y/n) leaving Lord Bridgerton on the dance floor in the middle of a dance. All we know about (y/n) (y/l/n) so far is that she likes to break rules and cause scenes and is this the impression she wants to make? If so, then perhaps she is a good fit for Lord Bridgerton after all. Only time will tell.

You had spent the last few days hiding in the safety of your bedroom. Your mama had tried to coax you out for an early morning promenade but you had declined. Although Lady Whistledown's writing was not at all bad - for she had certainly said worse of others before - you had not wanted to create a scene or cause such a stir. You were horrified at your actions; being improper and impolite on your first night back into society and then with Benedict. You had let him fool you and the reality of that crushed you so heavily. For one small moment, you had let yourself be fooled.

Your mama burst into your room with your handmaidens rushing to keep up with her, "Get dressed, (y/n), we are going out."

"Mama, I do not feel well, I cannot-"

"I know what happened with Benedict has left you embarrassed but I assure you, my darling, Violet was not mad at all. She and I laughed about it, reminiscing about ourselves breaking the rules with our significant others. The ball was for her late husband and you and Benedict reminded her of him... I would say that means you left a good impression."

You rolled your eyes, falling back onto your pillows, "I simply cannot show my face ever again, mama. We have to go back to France."

She laughed loudly, "All because of this? Do not be so silly, child," she perched on the edge of your bed, "My darling, it will pass. Lady Whistledown is already onto new topics, the rest of the Ton will be too. You cannot hide away forever besides... we have been invited for dinner."

"Where?"

She faltered, "It is with the Bridgertons'." Before you could refuse, your mama cut over you, "Violet wanted to extend an invite to welcome us back home, that is all. It would be rude to not attend."

"But he will be there, mama!"

"Why are you so against seeing him again?" She asked curiously, "From where I stood it looked like the two of you were getting along perhaps a bit too well." You bit your lip and looked at your hands. Your mama frowned, "(y/n)?"

"I got caught up in the moment and I let myself hope that it could turn into something but then..." Your mama gestured for you to continue, "A girl made a comment and it made me realise that Lord Bridgerton would never go for a woman like me. I am simply not enough." Tears burned in your eyes and that dark feeling of shame burned strong in your stomach.

"My darling girl," your mama crooned, scooting closer to hold your hands, "I saw the way that man looked at you and that was not a man with bad intentions. After you left, he looked crestfallen and sulked all night. A man who would be wanting to make a fool of you would have gone to his friends and laughed and drank but no... Violet told me that he in fact left shortly after we did, returned to his chambers for the night. That is a man with the intentions of fooling you."

"But I am not enough for him, mama."

She held your hands so tight, eyes boring into your own, "Yes, you are. You are everything and more and if not for him then you will be for someone else. You are worthy and deserving of love and respect, my darling, so do not dare settle for less."

The two of you spent another few minutes with your mama praising you and helping you to realise that what the girl had said was pure jealousy and not true. You felt better, not fixed but better. You felt well enough to accept Lady Bridgerton's invitation of dinner despite the nerves that bubbled in your stomach.

Once again, you found yourself nervously waiting in the carriage to go to the Bridgerton home though this time was entirely different. You were not nervous to see your friends, no, you were terrified of seeing Benedict. You took a breath, stilling your hands and trying your best to calm your heartrate.

"We have arrived," your mama said as the carriage slowed then stopped. The door swung open a moment later, "Relax," she whispered into your ear as you walked to the door, "you look gorgeous." You did, in all fairness. You were wearing one of the dresses your father had made for you from France, the fabrics were rich and soft and the colour made your eyes shine. You looked divine.

Here we go.

Lady Bridgerton greeted you at the door with a wide smile and a warm hug, "Welcome," she greeted kindly, "come, let us go to the dining room."

You followed closely behind and let Lady Bridgerton lead you to the dining room, "It is just as I remember," you smiled fondly, admiring the paintings that adorned the wall, "how lovely."

Lady Bridgerton led you into the one of the living areas, "I must apologise, dinner is running a little behind schedule but it should not take too much longer. (y/n), Daphne is in the library if you would like to be with her until dinner is ready?"

Thankful that you hadn't laid eyes on Benedict yet, you nodded and wandered the halls. It was like muscle memory, you remembered exactly where you had to go and which way to turn and it wasn't long before you were shutting the door behind you seeing Daphne smile up at you.

"I am so glad to see you!" She said with a welcoming hug, "I was worried that you would not attend after..."

"After me running from your ball and disappearing from society for a few days?"

Daphne smiled sympathetically, "What happened?"

"I danced with him - Benedict - and I... God, Daphne, I felt like a child again. I was giggling and blushing and he seemed genuinely interested."

"So what on Earth happened for you to run out?"

You groaned, "He was saying all of the right things and I thought for a moment he might feel the same and I panicked... Your mama must hate me, I have been so improper. I got caught up in-"

Daphne placed a reassuring hand on your arm, "(y/n), calm down. My mama actually was rather happy to see you and Benedict dancing and breaking the rules. As was your mama. I overheard them talking and laughing saying how it reminded them of themselves when they were younger. You need not fret."

"That is what my mama said but I-"

"I said, calm," Daphne said with a laugh, "It will be fine, I assure you. Though I do have a question... why did you flee from Benedict? From what you are telling me, it seems like you still have feelings so why run if he is seemingly showing similar signs of want? Why have you been absent from society for a few days?"

You shook your head, "It is stupid but... Daphne, look at me." Daphne frowned, "I am not small nor am I petite like you and the other girls. I am larger, there is more to me than normal."

"I am not understanding."

"Benedict has always been so desirable, so handsome and charming whilst I... I have never been noticed. I have always been in the shadows. It cannot be true that Benedict would even for one second would notice me, it simply cannot be true." You looked to Daphne who was looking past you, looking at the doorframe and when you followed her gaze, your heart sank. Benedict.

"Sister, do you think you could give us the room?" Benedict asked softly.

"I shall leave you two for a few minutes but I will stand outside the door and will alert if there happens to be anyone coming." She squeezed your hand on the way past and gave a nod to her brother. Benedict only stepped forwards when the door was shut behind her.

He approached carefully and slowly as though you were a skittish kitten and he was trying to not scare you, "How could you say those things about yourself?" He sounded genuinely wounded by your words as though he actually cared.

"Why are you here, Lord Bridgerton?" Your voice was colder than you intended but he knew that it was you putting your guard up. You were afraid of being hurt so he did not mind if it meant you were colder to him. He would get you to trust him.

Benedict scoffed slightly, "This is my house too, you know, Lady (y/l/n)." Had you not been so terrified you would've laughed at his pettiness to give you your title, "I was also searching for you. I wanted to see you before dinner."

"You found me. I am well. You may go."

"You cannot dismiss me from my own home, (y/n)."

"I can try."

Benedict sucked a deep breath in through his nose, "Why are you fighting against me? Why are you so angry?" He swallowed, "Did I... Did I overstep or offend you the other night at the ball? If I did, I must extend my sincerest apologies-"

You looked at him and you wanted to cry. He meant it so sincerely. You could see in his eyes how deeply sorry he was if he had offended you and it broke your walls. You shook your head, "It was not you, Benedict." Your voice quivered pitifully, "I... I let myself get wrapped up in a fantasy and I panicked."

"What fantasy?"

It was now or never, "The fantasy where you finally saw me, finally noticed me; finally felt for me. I am sure you must have known I had the biggest crush on you when I was a child and it seems that it is still here. While we danced, I let myself belief you would maybe perhaps feel the same. I was stupid and childish and other people noticed too."

"Whatever do you mean?" His expression was unreadable but his voice was soft, "What people?"

"As I was leaving... Some girl made a comment about you dancing with me out of pity; that you would not be genuinely interested in me, you were just pitying me. Look at me, Benedict, and then look at you..."

Benedict frowned, "Do you believe that?"

"I..." Your mouth opened and then snapped shut when you saw his gaze, "I had hoped it not be true."

He took a step towards you and you found yourself rather hot and breathless like all of the air was being sucked out of the air, "(y/n), I never saw you when you were younger, I was older and thought nothing more of you than my sister's friend, I admit that to be true... But now... You are divine, you are intoxicating, (y/n). You are driving me insane! You are beautiful - your body, your face, your smile; but you are far more than that." He laughed loudly before rubbing a hand over his face, "You have consumed me. I have spent the last three days in society waiting for you, searching for you; needing to see you again. I have no been able to stop thinking about you; your laugh, your lips, the way we danced... I have pestered Colin trying to make him give me some of your letters so that I may hear your voice in my head, smell the faint smell of your perfume..." He breathed deeply and you hadn't realised but now, your chests were pressed together and you were staring up at him completely helpless. You felt like this was all a dream, surely you would wake up in few moments and this would all be a figment of your imagination... But no, here you were with Benedict Bridgerton professing his love to you.

"I..." He swallowed hard, "I do not wish to take something of yours that does not belong to me but if you want it, if you want me then I will be yours so completely and wholly." His blue eyes bore into yours, "I will be yours if you want me."

His admission had your heart racing and your cheeks were on fire, "I-I have been yours for a decade, Benedict. Always just yours."

Benedict's face split into a wide grin and then your eyes were fluttering shut as he leaned down and kissed you. Your first ever kiss shared with the boy you had loved from being a child. It was then Daphne wrapped her knuckles on the door and you and Benedict were snapped apart both slightly flushed and breathless. Daphne opened the door and let herself in, "Mama's coming, Ben."

Benedict pressed a kiss to your hand, "There is no point in waiting, I suppose," he shrugged, "What say you to marrying me? I apolgise it is not romantic in the slightest or planned out but why wait? You waited a long enough time." Daphne squealed and your jaw dropped, "You have a few seconds before my mother bursts through that door, (y/n)... What is your answer?" He teased with a grin, "Take a leap of faith with me or run away again? What is your choice?"

All you could do was nod and at that moment, the door swung open to reveal Violet Bridgerton, "Dinner is- what is wrong?"

"Mother, get the champagne!" Benedict grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulders and twisting you to face his mother, "We are to be wed!"

You winced in anticipation, expecting Violet's reaction to be angry but instead, she gasped and grinned before rushing to you both to hug you tightly. When she pulled away, her eyes were filling with tears, "Oh, my loves," she crooned as she caressed both of your cheeks, "Welcome to the family, (y/n)... Let us go celebrate, hm?"

[jamespotterismydaddy]

For The Taking

aemond x sister!reader smut

A/N: this is based off a request here for obsessive!aemond so i hope you love it!

TW: smut, DUBCON, incest, knife kink, blood kink, breeding kink, size kink, murder, rough smut

word count: 1,789 words

Aemond chaperones all of your meetings with possible suitors. It’s just what a good big brother does, right? He watches closely to make sure they don’t get too close, don’t say anything too suggestive, or do anything that could ever bother you.

He walks, ten steps behind, as you promenade around the gardens with Lord Tully. He hates him already. In theory, Lord Tully checks all the boxes. He’s handsome, considerate and only eight years your senior but something about him makes Aemond see red. Some boring lord from Riverrun could never be good enough for you, his perfect baby sister and the worst part is, you seem to like him.

“Of course, Ser.” You giggle at the lord’s words. Fuck. Aemond missed what he said.

“I shall have to part ways with you for now, princess. I have felt a sudden need to speak to the King.” You beam up at him. Speaking to the King could very well mean a marriage proposal.

You nod in response and giggle again when Lord Tully kisses your hand before leaving.

“I don’t like him.” Aemond says sternly. Your face falls.

“What? Why not?” You say as you look up to your brother with puppy dog eyes. His opinion means everything to you.

“There is simply something about him I do not trust. You can do much better.”

“I don’t understand. I thought he was-”

“Do you not believe me?” Aemond asks you, putting a hint of sorrow in his eyes.

“No! Of course that’s not it. I’m just disappointed. It seems there has been something off about every suitor. Soon there’ll be none left.” You pout a little as you look down.

“You will find a perfect match.” He tilts your head up so you have to look him in the eye. “I will only have the best for you.” 

“I know.” You say softly before pressing a light kiss to his cheek and murmuring something about attending to your needlepoint with Helaena. You make your way from the gardens.

~~~

The next day, the royal family has a breakfast. A family breakfast. You don’t think that you’ve shared a meal with your father in weeks so there must be some sort of news.

“My love.” Your mother starts. “We have something wonderful to tell you…” She looks to the King who seems to be irritated that he has to speak on the manner.

“Lord Tully has asked for your hand and we have granted it.” Your father finishes.

“He has?” You look at Aemond nervously.

“Yes, isn’t it wonderful?” Your mother beams at you, happy with the match.

“But mother, I was sure we discussed my thoughts on him.” Aemond starts and you watch the look on Alicent’s face change. She knows. A mother always knows.

“Ser Brynden is a good man and a knight. You’ve also shot down all of her other suitors, Aemond.” The Queen looks at him sternly. Aemond is fuming but says nothing. “We will start the wedding preparations soon.” She says to you with a soft smile.

The rest of the meal is tense but your mother tries to push through, chattering about wedding dresses and cake. Though, when everyone is finished eating, Aemond leaves quickly, a disturbing look in his eye.

~~~

In the middle of the night, you are awoken by the sound of your bedroom door opening. You call out your guards name and receive no response. You start to get nervous. You grab a candelabra from your bedside table as you get out of bed.

“Who’s there?” You call out.

Aemond comes into view.

You sigh in relief. “Aem, you frightened me.” You put down the candelabra.

“Were you intending to fight off an intruder with that?” He chuckles. And then… he walks into the moonlight. There’s blood on his collar.

“Oh Aemond, are you hurt?” You rush over to him, a concerned look in your eyes as you inspect him. You go on your tippy toes when you hold his face in your hands so you might be able to see better.

“What a caring little girl you are.” He coos at you but the look of worry strewn across your face doesn’t fade. “It’s not my blood.” He says darkly but you still don’t get it.

“Who’s blood is it?” You ask tenderly, just glad he isn’t hurt.

“Tully’s.” He says and this is when you realize.

“Is he… alright?” The concern is gone from your voice. You’re frightened again.

“Most people aren’t alright after being run through with a sword and fed to a dragon.” He says and chuckles again. Your mouth goes dry.

“You… you…” Your eyes well up with tears. You’re utterly shocked.

“Killed him? I did.” He says and then notices the look on your face, how you have started to inch away. He reaches his hand behind your head, running his fingers through it before gripping it tightly at the roots.

“Ah… Aemond, that hurts.” You whimper and he loosens his grip slightly so he’s just holding you in place.

“I’m sorry, darling. You know I never want to hurt you but the way you’re looking at me right now… it hurts me.” He says calmly.

“You truly did it?” You ask and the tears start to fall.

“I did it for you. For us.” He explains.

“Us?” You’re confused again.

“Yes. Can’t you see? None of these men are enough for you. You’re mine.” He says firmly as he pulls you closer and looks you right in the eyes.

“But mother says it’s… unnatural. Aegon and Helaena are an exception to support Aegon’s claim.”

“We are Targaryens. Wedding you is my gods given right.” He says as he wipes the tears from your face. “I’ll make sure of it. Mother will have no choice but to accept when your belly swells with my babe.”

“W-What?” You try to say more but his lips are pressed to yours before you can get the words out. He kisses you roughly and forces his tongue into your mouth. So much for a gentle first kiss. His arms snake around your waist and pull you against him. When he parts his mouth from yours, your lips are swollen and you stand still in shock.

“Take your nightgown off.” He commands, his eye staring firmly at your nipples that poke through the fabric.

“No, Aemond. We aren’t wed. You’ll ruin me.” You beg him.

“Shhh. I’m your big brother, rūs.” (baby) “You need to trust me.” His fingers go to the straps of the nightgown and slip them down your shoulders so that the garment falls to the floor. You let him, ever the obedient sister. His fingers move to your smallclothes, letting them drop off you next. His gaze washes over you. “You must be the prettiest girl in all of Westeros.” He praises and you don’t know if you blush more at the words or your nakedness. “Lay back on the bed, rūs.” You pout a little and don’t obey him. You’re frozen in place. “Now.” The command brings you back to reality and you listen this time and lay back, your legs clenched together. “Open up those legs.” He says.

“I’m frightened.” You whisper out and he chuckles.

“I’ll be gentle, rūs… at first.” He says as he pries your legs open. He looks at you so hungrily as you lie there, waiting for him. You’re so much smaller than him, so delicate. He undresses for you, he likes how your eyes follow his movements. “You like watching me?” He asks before dropping his breeches.

“I-um…” The size of him makes you nervous. “That part goes in?” You ask him.

“Yes.” He says before beginning to play with your pearl, You whimper softly.

“It won’t fit.” You say.

“It will. I’ll make it.” He slips a finger inside of you. “Tell me rūs, have you ever touched yourself here?” You feel the heat rise to your cheeks again.

“N-No, my septa says it’s dirty.” He smiles at your answer.

“Good. This place is only for me to touch.” He positions himself between your legs and pumps his cock a few times. “This’ll hurt.” He sheaths himself inside of you slowly but still too fast for your liking.

“No… out.” You whine and squirm but he holds your hips in place, forcing you to adjust to his size.

“Stop squeezing me like that. I won’t be able to control myself.” He says with a grunt.

“I’m not.” You say truthfully with a whine. You’re really just that tight.

“Is it still hurting?” He asks.

“Only a bit.” You say, tears in your eyes but that’s enough for him.

He begins thrusting in and out of you savagely, hitting so deep inside of you that you feel as if you’re about to burst.

“Gods, your cunt is perfect.” He says as he fucks into so that you’re whimpering beneath him. He’s so big compared to you that he can see the outline of his cock on your tummy. He smirks at the sight and presses down on it to make you squirm. “I’m going to make this belly swell with a baby just like how I’m making it swell with my cock.” He says and leans down more to kiss and bite at your neck. “You’re fucking mine. Do you understand? You’re my wife.” He punctuates his words with his thrusts. The rough behaviour leaves you light-headed.

Aemond reaches over to the bedside table where he placed his dagger and he grabs it. Your eyes widen.

“Aemond?”

“I’ll make you my wife the moment I spill my seed into you, spilling drops of our blood together.” He says as he brandishes the dagger.

You don’t even know what to say, too tired for a response as he grabs your chin and runs the blade of the dagger across your lips until you bleed. You wince. He cuts his own lip right after. His blood drips onto your skin but he doesn’t kiss you yet. He begins to rub your pearl, trying to coax a peak out of you. When he feels you begin to clench around him, he knows it’s time.

“Aem, something is happ-” He cuts you off with a kiss, mixing your blood with his. He fervently makes you his wife in the ways of Old Valyria. You gasp as your peak washes over you, never having felt such a thing before and that gives him the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth, kissing you deeply as he spends inside of you. When he parts the kiss, he gazes into your eyes.

“You’re mine now. By my will and the will of the gods.”

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy

[mediumgayitalian]

part two

———

Getting outrun for seven miles by an eight year old is a uniquely humbling experience. Compactly humiliating, coincidentally, is being outrun by an eight year old while dragging along a bouquet large enough that it cannot be adequately contained with two hands and must therefore be carried between two people.

Lee is having something of an afternoon.

“It starts in seven minutes!” shouts Will, at least twelve solid yards ahead of them and running backwards. He does not appear even to be sweating. “Hurry!”

“Could not be hurrying more if I tried,” Lee wheezes.

(It’s not that Lee isn’t a good runner. He is. It’s that Will is freakishly fast, because he has dimples when he smiles and has endeared himself to the dryads, who have been teaching him how to sprint like the hopped up little Energizer Bunny he is. Michael has been calling him Soda Boy for ages, on account of how he so closely resembles a can of pop that has been vigorously shaken, which he hates. Remembering it brings Lee some peace.)

“Let’s go let’s go let’s go!”

Clamping his mouth shut in a desperate attempt to preserve energy, Lee surges forward. Michael matches him, having to run significantly faster to keep up with his long legs. Their panting forms a discordant melody of despair. Poetic.

When they stumble through the door, chests heaving, Lee considers collapsing to the ground and weeping for joy. He will never run again. If a monster chases him, he will simply fight or accept his fate. He has reached his quota.

But, for perhaps the first time in his life, there is no time for dramatics. The lobby is devoid of the massive crowds it held earlier, shadows eerie in their absence, and only the final tail end of a line shuffles through the stage doors.

Despite his internal vow, Lee sprints forward to catch up with them.

“Hold it,” says a man in a venue volunteer! vest, holding up a hand. He glances at them, resting his gaze on Will’s messy hair, Michael’s scuffed shoes, Lee’s wrinkled shirt, and pausing for quite a while on the giant bouquet. The narrowed eyes and thinned lips are familiar. Lee stiffens.

“Go on in,” the man says to the middle aged couple in front of them, who’s crease-free jackets read ‘Dance Mom’ and ‘Prop Team Dad’ respectively. He shoos them inside, complimenting the honest-to-Apollo corsage in the woman’s hand, chortling along to the man’s joke. The laughter drops from his face the second the couple is guided through the doors, and the man turns back to the three of them.

“The show,” he says, nose upturned, “has begun. I can’t let anyone else in lest they cause any…disturbances.”

“The show starts on three minutes and forty-seven seconds!” Will protests, sticking his watch in the man’s face. Completely oblivious to his murderous look, he continues, “Forty-six seconds! Forty-five! Time’s-a-tickin’, let us in!”

The man bares his teeth in a smile. “Regrettably, you are too late. You’ll have to wait for the intermission.”

Will blinks at him. He looks at Lee, at the doors, then back at the man.

“But…we’re on time. And if we come back later, we’ll miss my sister’s dance!”

The man shrugs. “This will be a valuable lesson, then.” He purses his lips, glancing again at the bouquet. “Perhaps be more prepared, next time.”

Will turns back to Lee and Michael, crestfallen. He swipes quickly under his eyes, squeezing his thumb into fists, but the tears well up anyway. “We’re going to miss it?”

Michael snarls. In one quick move he shoves the massive bouquet entirely into Lee’s arms, yanks Will by the shoulders to stand behind him, and gets right in the man’s face.

“You listen here, you slimy ratbag, you had no fuckin’ trouble letting those last scragglers in so you better clean up your act quick before I —”

A loud crashing noise makes them all jump, interrupting him. Nearly crushing the flowers, Lee whips towards the source of the sound. One of the competition banners has been yanked down, metal frame collapsing on the tile floor. Fastening screws rattle to a slow stop beside it.

“What the —”

Another banner crashes to the floor. This time, the little hands that tore it down are a touch too slow to dart away, a blonde head not quick enough to duck behind a corner.

“Hey!” the man shouts. Shoving Michael aside, and moving quicker than Lee can think to stop him, he sprints towards the corner Will disappeared behind. “Get back here! You can’t do that!”

Lee curses, trying to manoeuvre the flowers to see and run at the same time. Michael runs ahead of him, on the man’s heels, chanting shit shit shit shit under his breath. Lee’s brain takes the initiative to alternate, chanting fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck every time he takes a breath.

They’re going to get kicked out for sure. Diana is going to kill them and it’s going to be justified, because Lee is going to have to live with the noble look he knows Cass will have on when she realises they’re not there to watch. The shakey, practiced smile she’ll slap over the disappointment in her dark eyes.

Shit shit shit shit indeed.

“Lee! Michael! Over here!” whispers a voice. Lee whirls around to face it — boy does he ever feel like a puppet on a stick right now — and, for the second time in as many minutes, feels his head pound at the disorienting frenzy of emotions that bubble up when he sees his baby brother’s face. Will stands half inside a doorway Lee hadn’t noticed on the way in, tucked in the shadow of a corner.

He is fast, holy shit.

“What the hell are you doing,” hisses Michael.

“Getting us inside! Hurry up!”

Lee doesn’t need further prompting, clock ticking in his brain. Gods, how long do they have left? Thirty seconds? Less?

“Most big theatres have sideline entrances,” Will explains after Michael helps shove the giant bouquet through the tiny door. He guides them, upright to their hunching, down a tight corridor. “They’re for performers to pop up in the audience without being seen. Mama and I race each other to find ‘em when she did shows.”

Lee had forgotten, for a moment, how much of his life Will has spent in and out of theatres, bars, stages. Naomi Solace has been growing more and more famous since…half of his life, at least. Lee remembers hearing about her four years ago, when she’d done a smaller show in Queens. A friend of his had gone.

Michael reaches out and tugs the mostly-undone ponytail he’d wrestled Will’s hair into that morning. “Good job, kid.”

He grins over his shoulder. “Thanks.”

They stumble into the darkened audience in the nick of time. The second Lee steps out of the cramped little corridor, dragging the stupid flowers (he is, in fact, regretting his choices at this point in time; when he has a free moment he will add this to the list of reasons he will be kicking his past self’s ass if the Hephaestus cabin successfully recreates DeLorean time machine) along with him, the stage lights come on. An announcer’s voice calls out, “Entry 109, Competitive Open Solo: Cass Hasapi.”

“Fuck,” Michael mutters. A quaint family of four gasps. He sneers at them. “Fuck, you see Diana?”

“No, is she maybe —”

“I think that’s her hair —”

“That person is way too tall, what are you —”

“I swear to the gods, I am going to kill you both,” whispers a beautifully familiar voice, and then Lee is being dragged. “Sit the hell down and shut the hell up. Will, baby, c’mere.”

Will climbs happily over the two empty seats, settling onto Diana’s lap and curling under her chin. He sticks his tongue out when Lee and Michael follow in behind him, struggling with the bouquet, muttering about favouritism.

“I’ve literally known you for six times longer than you’ve known him,” Michael mutters, sticking his tongue out right back. A grandmother with a severe bob whirls back and hushes him.

“Yeah, I’ve had all that time to get tired of your bullshit. Shut up.”

Before Michael can retort — Lee is sure he has an eloquent and devastating response, Lee has been helping him practice — soft piano drifts out from the speakers. A light turns on, pointed at the stage.

All four of them snap their mouths shut.

In the centre of the stage, Cass stands, poised. Her back is turned to the audience, arms extended above her and tilted to the right, as if reaching for the setting sun. Her hair, braided loosely back, brushes the edge of her thickly draping purple costume. Her knees are bent and locked and one bare foot sticks out like she’s trying to balance herself, like she’s mid fall.

A gravelly, male voice sings lowly along to the piano. How do you know which time might be the last? She moves along the dip of his voice, dragging her limbs through the rigid air. What I would give just to see you again? She moves with a swooping twist of her heels, twisting at the waist. Under the heat of the stage lights, her face contorts, forehead deeply wrinkled, mouth parted, breathing quickly. I’d walk to the depths of a world down below and demand to get back what some circumstance stole. She holds herself with such tension that Lee finds his own shoulders hiking up to his ears. Her chest moves rapidly, hands shaking, knees buckling. His breath goes stale in his lungs.

When the chorus starts, hard and heavy and sudden, I turned back one last time just to prove you were there, Cass hits the floor. He gasps with the rest of the audience, clutching the plush armrest, but it’s intentional, part of the dance. ‘Cause the last ray of sun made Eurydice cold. Collapsed on the floor, limbs bent, dress askew, she crawls, begging, towards the audience. Did she know? Did she know? Did she know? Did she know?

Cass does not move gracefully. She moves like a beached, gasping siren dragging herself back to the depths, like someone climbing out of a pit. Every movement looks heavy and painful. She looks at the audience and Lee is surging forward before he can stop himself, breath hitching, brain screaming: help her! help her! help her!

If I knew how it’d feel back then, I wouldn’t take another step.

Her body twists again, hair escaping her loose braid and sticking to her neck, her forehead. She claws at her throat like she’s suffocating, eyes accusing everyone watching like they’re holding her under. Each movement of her arms swell and sway on the beat, bare feet slapping the ground with every hit of the kettle drum. If you can see me it’s all in your head, but it feels real to me now, it felt real to me then.

Everything ends.

The piano fades out, the drums hit their last beat. All that’s left is the wretched guitar, taught like strings snapping, taught like the tense pull of her suspended muscles.

But I opened the door and went down the stairs; I turned back one last time to prove you were there.

As the last word fades, she drops. Not slowly, not evenly, but like whatever was holding her up crumbled to dust. Like she was shot. Her purple dress pools out around her like dark Hyacinth. She lays completely, entirely still.

The lights cut. The air in the audience goes heavy.

They come back on and no one says a word. Lee realises, as it drips onto his hands, that he is crying. Diana is, too, tear tracks too fresh to dry on her face, and Will is leaned forward so far he sways precariously. Michael’s hands are pressed harshly to his eyes.

Trancelike, Lee stands. All eyes snap, abruptly, towards him, but he ignores them. He looks straight across the rows of chairs and locks eyes with his sister, upright now, heaving, standing hesitant. She looks at him, and then beside him at Michael, and then at Will in Diana’s lap. They scramble quickly up next to him, and without any of them saying anything, they begin to cheer.

Cass’s face lights up.

With permission, much of the audience claps. No one stands as they do and as they continue hooting and hollering the claps fade quickly, replaced with stares and murmurs, but Cass still stands there, beaming, looking away and looking back like she can’t believe they’re there. That someone is there, that someone watched her, her, from beginning to end. A hand tugs on his sleeve.

“Can I sonic?” Will asks, raising his voice to be heard.

“Level four,” Lee allows.

He needs no further permission, grinning. He lets out a piercing whistle that makes everyone around them shout in alarm and Lee’s ears ring. But Cass laughs, loud and bright, so it’s worth it, and when Will looks at him in question he nods. The second whistle is definitely beyond a level four, but Lee doesn’t care. Cass looks the happiest he’s seen in a long time.

———

None of them care too much about staying for the other performances. But Cass has two more dances with her studio classes, spread out as they are, so Lee remains doomed to two hours of an aching ass and performances that come nowhere near Cass’s masterpiece. Will seems intrigued, though, by some of the pieces, so he grits his teeth and bares it. Besides, the rolled eyes he shares with Diana and Michael every time someone does something exceedingly cliche or tries and fails at depth (someone, often, being one of Cass’s teammates, shocker) makes it somewhat worth it.

By the time the judges call the last entry, though, Lee is ready to book it out of there.

The lights come back on and pop music plays through the speakers as dancers, in track suits over their costumes, congregate on the stage. Lee stands and stretches, letting Will stand on his shoulders and jump off into Michael’s arms to get some of his energy out. (And, also, ‘cause tossing a small child between them is fun. Diana jogs into the aisle so they can throw farther, but they all decide against it when a security guard glances over.)

After what feels like eight million years, the judges finally lumber over to the stage. The building voices hush as they climb the steps, standing in front of the gathered studios with cabled mics and stacks of foreboding envelopes.

“Welcome, dancers and families,” starts one judge.

She blabs on for several minutes about what an honour it was to judge and how wonderful everyone was. Blah, blah, blah. Lee spaces out about the time Diana’s eyes glaze over, and he looks instead to the gathered stage, observing. There are five different studios that he can see, each with about forty to fifty dancers. Mostly young women. They sit tangled together, legs on legs, arms around shoulders, feet tucked under thighs. Cass, he notices, sits on her own, at the very back of the stage. She sits straight-backed and proud, though. Chin lifted, braid resting over her shoulder.

Impossible to miss.

Two of her group dances win Diamond (Diana explains to them that this is Very Good. She thinks). Most others do not get this honour. Lee notices especially the older couple to their left looking quite sour. The glee he feels is indescribable.

“The winner for our open solo, for all age groups, was actually unanimous. It’s been a while since that happened!”

A girl near the front of the stage, who Lee recognises as the one to make a cruel joke about Cass’ mother, preens. Her solo was boring as hell. He’s not sure what she’s so smug about.

“With a score of 97.6, congratulations to Entry 109, Cass Hasapi!”

The four of them scream like lunatics.

They don’t even wait for scattered applause. Each one of them clambers up on the pristine chairs, covering them with scuff marks, and yell at the top of their lungs, jumping and cheering like chimps in a cage. Cass goes red, but she can’t hide her smile as she stands and accepts her award, grinning over at them. Michael holds up his camera and snaps a photo of her, pink-cheeked and wild-haired, glowing.

———

“Cass!”

Will sees her before the rest of them, sprinting towards the changeroom doors at top speeds and leaping up into her arms. She catches him easily, spinning them both around, pressing a thousand kisses to his hair and face.

“Hello, my darling! Hello hello hello!” Every word is punctuations with a kiss, or rather a press of her wide smile to anywhere she can reach. In seconds his cheeks are stained with her lipstick. “Oh, it has been weeks, darling boy, I missed you!”

Will clings to her sweater, face buried in the crook of her neck. She holds him just as tightly.

(Will has seen Cass more than Lee, in the past few months. He knows she’s made a few sudden trips to camp. But he also knows that she was the first one to welcome him into camp, the day his mother dropped him off, and when he was claimed she was the first to bring him home. She loves to tote him around, too, to have him trail after her for cabin inspections, holding the clipboard, or paint his nails when she’s bored. He misses her something fierce in the winters. She holds on tightly when she comes back home.)

Squeezing him one last time, she turns to the rest of them. Despite her wide smile, her mascara runs.

“You came,” she says, voice wobbling.

Michael clears his throat. “No shit.”

His voice wobbles, too.

“Come here, you goober.”

He’s the next to cling to her, inserting himself under her arm. She presses a kiss to his temple and he pinches her ribs, complaining, getting louder when she digs a knuckle into his hair. Diana jogs up and separates them, as she always does, flicking Michael on the forehead and pressing a kiss to her sister’s cheek.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers, squeezing her hand.

Cass’s tears spill over again. “Thank you.”

Lee clears his throat. He feels, suddenly, like a doofus, holding a bouquet of flowers the size of him, but Cass looks at them and grins again, chuckling.

“You sell your kidney for that or what?”

Lee snorts. “No, we exchanged Will. This is a clone.”

“Did not!”

Lee blows a raspberry. “Did too. Clone.”

“I’m not a clone! I’m me!”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Ya-huh!”

“Alright,” Cass interrupts, rolling her eyes fondly. She kisses the tip of Will’s nose again and sets him down, turning towards Lee, hands outstretched dramatically. “Hand me my dues.”

Because she is, at the core of her, a true daughter of Apollo, even though the amount of poise and grace that bleeds from her at any given time contradicts almost directly with the guy who beams Pocketful of Sunshine directly into their brains at five in the morning every single day without fail, she kneels with a flourish. Because Lee is, at the core of him, also a child of Apollo, he goes unquestioningly along with the bit, pulling out one of the flowers to knight her before resting the entire bouquet in her arms. She has to hold it with both hands.

“You guys are ridiculous,” she says, grinning.

“They are ridiculous,” Diana stresses. “Dumbasses were damn near late getting this for you. They already had flowers, mind you. They’re just dumb.”

Will holds up his hand with his watch. “I kept us from being late!”

Diana squishes his cheek. “Thank you, sweetpea. You’re already smarter than your brothers combined.”

“Stick out your tongue again and I’ll grab it, you little snitch,” Lee warns.

Will, darting to hide behind Diana, does not heed his warning. Because he’s a little shit. bc

The walk out of the building in a gaggle of movement. As other dancers and their families walk by, glowering at Cass’ flowers and at Cass in general, Lee makes a point to catch their eyes. To smirk. To let them know, without saying a word — you were wrong. Of course you were wrong. Look at how she’s better than your bitter ass without even trying.

It warms him inside, truly.

“I’m thinking,” Diana says, walking back to the car, “that we stop at Dairy Queen on the way home. On Michael’s dollar. Will, look real excited so Michael can’t say no.”

“I am excited,” Will says, turning to face him, “so that’s real easy.”

Michael sighs. He taps his foot on the pavement, glaring. He sighs again. “You’re getting s plain cone and that’s that. You understand me?”

Will takes that as code for ‘begin negotiating’. Diana joins him, the two of them chasing Michael to the car, yelling about Blizzards and sundaes. Cass falls into step next to Lee, adjusting the flowers.

“So,” she says, shooting him a small smile.

“So,” he intones.

“Diana told me you snuck the boys out of camp.”

“…Yes.”

“Organised the whole trip, basically.”

“It wasn’t hard. I just told Michael to pack his shit and he listened, for once. So.”

“Lee.” She waits for him to open the trunk, letting him stuff the ridiculous flowers inside before facing him, grabbing his hands and squeezing. “Thank you.”

“I don’t —”

He swallows past the lump in his throat. How can he say it? How can he tell her about being fourteen and older than half the unclaimed kids in Hermes, still reeling over camp as a whole, and the fear that had dissipated from his chest when she stood in front of camp and said, firmly, he’s ours? About the hours she spent listening to him ramble about Pokémon, learning the game for him, mailing him cards she finds around? About the letters she sends him every week without fail, even though she’s swamped with her own shit, because she remembers the night he cried, months and years of being weird and lonely and unlike anyone else he knew? How can he explain the bubbling in his chest, the ache for her, because of her?

“Of course, Cass.”

She opens her arms and he falls into them, forehead on her shoulder, arms tight around her waist. She grips around his back, pressing a kiss to his hair. His throat is dry, choking back the thickness of his tears.

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Lee.”

[feyhunter78]

Chapter Eight - Jon's true parentage comes to light and King's Landing comes under attack.

Ch 9

Jon reads the letter, again and again, looking up at you, who has your hands clasped in front of you, and Lord Tyrion who waits patiently.

“I am a Dayne?” He asks, unable to believe the words written in his father’s handwriting.

“Jon Dayne, the only living child of Arthur Dayne and Lyanna Stark, third in line to the seat of Starfell behind your cousin Edric, a boy of four and ten, and your father” Tyrion reiterates.

Jon shakes his head, he is a Stark, Ned Stark’s bastard, he cannot be a Dayne. “No, I cannot be, it is a mistake.”

You bite your lip and step forward reaching for him. “Jon…”

“It is true, we could send you to Dorne to ask your aunt herself. Tyrion says, jerking his head towards the door.

Jon folds the letter and shoves it in his pocket. “I cannot simply flee to Dorne, not while my father and sister are still in danger.”

You take another step towards him, but your father holds you back. “That is why you must act in accordance with our plan, a marriage must take place. A Tyrell women must be made queen.”

Jon looks at him, cold fear filling his chest. Remembering how you looked when you opened the door to your father’s solar and bid him to enter. Your eyes were red and puffy, tear tracks down your cheeks. He does not want to marry a Tyrell; he wants to marry you. “I will not marry a Tyrell, I will not marry for the throne, I have no claim to it.”

Finally, your father allows you to go to him and you take his hand. “You do not have to, Robb will marry the Tyrell, he will be king.”

There is a newfound confidence blooming in him, and he takes your hand, the one already holding his and presses it to his lips, letting it linger, his eyes meeting yours burning with a new heat. “Then I shall do as my lady commands.”

The flustered expression that flits across your face delights him, and he turns your hand over to press his lips to your palm, then your inner wrist, directly over your pulse point.

Tyrion coughs sharply. “No one else in the Keep besides us and Lord Varys knows of your true identity, and it must remain that way. You are still a bastard in the eyes of the court, your actions must reflect that.”

You reluctantly break away from Jon. “But away from the eyes of the court?”

Tyrion sighs heavily. “Dayne, do you wish to court my daughter?”

Gods yes. Jon thinks, all his dreams that he had squashed down and locked away coming to the forefront of his mind. “Yes, I do.”

“Fine, I will allow it, provided you two do not ruin everything that is in the works. The weight of this plan is indescribable, the secrecy needed indefinable. All those fanciful dreams I can all but see running through your head can be crushed with one small mistake.”

It is not as if it is torture to act as he once did, to stand so close and yet so far from you, unable to take your hand or call you by your name, but it is torture not being able to comfort you.

You sob as you watch Myrcella depart for Dorne, Tommen himself shedding tears, only Joffrey does not cry. He sneers at you and Tommen, and Jon has the strong desire to break the boy-king’s jaw.

Then come the riots, chaos breaks out, Joffrey is yelling, the smallfolk are starving, but Jon is prepared, he has lost sight of you in a crowd before, and he will not suffer that again. He scoops you from your horse and onto his own, riding hard for the Keep, leaving behind all else, his arm iron around your waist, keeping you close until his horse comes to a skidding stop within the Keep.

You hide your laughter in his cloak when your father kicks Joffrey, yelling at him for his foolishness, but your laughter dies when reports of Fleabottom in flames roll in. Water wagons are dispatched by your father’s order, and Jon dismounts, helping you down from his horse, escorting you inside.

Then comes the Battle of Blackwater, bloody, endless screams, armies from all other the central lands crashing, explosions of wildfire lighting up the bay, the green flash seen hrough the windows of the Keep. You keep pace with Jon as you run towards the Queen’s Ballroom with the others remaining in the Red Keep.

His heart is in his throat as he begins to recognize the scene. His steps no longer meld with the others but squelch. The banners bleed, and though the door to the Queen’s Ballroom is wide open, he can see it there, half cracked, the scent of flesh, of blood seeping into his skin. He halts, grabbing your wrist and guiding you the other way, ignoring your questions until the halls are empty, and he throws you over his shoulder as he did the day his father—Lord Stark had nearly lost his head.

You protest, banging on his back with your fists, demanding answers, but he cannot get his jaw to work, his tongue too heavy to lift, his lips unable to form words.

“Jon, put me down, we are going the wrong way, are you mad?” You yell, fear tinging your voice.

He must keep you safe, he must, he cannot shake the vision, you are wearing the same dress, the same cosmetics, your hair styled the same way as in his dream, he should have known, he should have known.

Jon rips a ribbon from your gown and throws it over a nearby sconce hoping Tyrion will notice it and not follow the others to their deaths in the Queen’s Ballroom. He counts the stones on the wall until he finds the twenty-ninth one, pushing it in he glances down the hall slipping in through the opening that appears.

You are quiet now, no longer fighting him as he carefully picks his way through the tunnels, listening for the sounds of battle. Finally, he comes to a fork in the path taking the left branch and setting you down once he had walked a good distance. If he were to look out though the cracks in the stone, he would be able to see the Godswood. Jon prays the soldiers who attempt to break in will ignore this sacred place and go straight for the holdfast.

“How did you know there was a tunnel there?” You ask glancing around the darkened tunnel.

“Theon found them, he told me about them, said if we ever needed to take Sansa and run, we should go this way.” He explains, leaning against the stone wall, arms crossed over his chest.

“There are secret tunnels that go to the Godswood. I knew about some of the others, but not these.” You say, running your fingers along the rough-hewn stone. “So, if we keep going, we will be outside the Keep?”

He nods. “But we are not leaving the Keep, it is too dangerous.”

“I am aware of that Jon, that is why we were supposed to barricade ourselves in the holdfast.”

“No.” Jon says, his voice stern, sterner than it has ever been towards you in his years of knowing you.

Shock flickers in your eyes, he has always been good at reading you, others could never read your true emotions but for him? You were an open book; one he would never tire of reading.

You place your hands on your hips, lifting your chin imperiously, your eyes like jade in the shadows of the tunnel. “No? Why not?”

“If Stannis’ men breech the walls, they will go there first.” He explains, frustration building in his body, why can you not just listen?

“The holdfast is practically impenetrable, especially when the drawbridge is pulled up, which it is.” You say, leaning closer at the end of your sentence as if to put emphasis on your words.

Jon breathes out a harsh sigh, your screams echoing in his mind, he has not had that nightmare in years, but now he cannot stop seeing it. “No one knows we are here y/n; it is safer.”

Another step, you are practically nose to nose with him. “What if someone else were to know about this tunnel, what then? There is barely enough room for the two of us, how will you swing your sword?”

Shouts cut off your words and Jon grabs you, pulling you to his chest, his hand over your mouth. He can hear your heartbeat, or perhaps it is his, your chest brushes against his as you breathe, and he can feel every inch of your body against his own.

The shouts pass, he relaxes and releases you, attempting to banish the impure thoughts from his mind. Yes, he is courting you, but that does not give him leave to act on his baser instincts.

“We would not have to fear being heard if we were in the ballroom.” You grumble.

He often finds your stubbornness charming, the angry pout on your lips when you are denied what you want, he finds most endearing. You are spoiled, even more than Sansa, your father rarely says no to you, and it is only by the gods’ own hands that you are not a worse version of Joffrey.

Though Jon cannot deny, he enjoys your spoiled attitude, enjoys the way you turn to him the moment you are told no. Tommen does not want to ride horses with you? Jon does. Your father refuses to accompany you to Fleabottom so you can buy more embroidery thread? Jon will go, and he will carry all your purchases. A fool from House Royce refuses to dance with you once he learned who your father was? Jon is a wonderful dancer; and he will not relinquish your hand until it is demanded.

But now it is less charming and more…enticing. You look up at him with such stubbornness, your lips in that adorable pout, your hands on your hips inadvertently pushing your breasts out. He finds his restraint has gone.

“Gods will you shut up?” He hisses, grabbing your face and crashing his lips to yours.

You freeze for a moment, then melt into him, your arms looping around his neck, fingers tangling in his curls, as your lips meld with his.

“Is this all it took, My Lady? A kiss? Perhaps I should have kissed you ages ago.” He purrs, his lips a hairsbreadth from yours, brushing against them with every word.

“Oh…” You breathe out, your grip on his hair tightening.

“My lovely lady, my lioness, my stubborn girl.” He presses each term of endearment into your skin, saving his newest one, born from the freshly acquired knowledge of his parentage, for last. “My starlight.”

Your lips meet once more, and you part yours for him, whimpering when his tongue strokes yours, a movement he had heard Robb and Theon speak of.

Jon had not believed it to be true, the reaction they said it invoked, but your response sparks a desperation within him. He must hear that sound again. So, he repeats it, tip of his tongue dragging across yours, coaxing it into his mouth and sucking lightly.

“Oh gods, Jon, I—” Your words are muffled as you refuse to fully pull away from him, voice higher pitched and breathless.

Liquid heat boils just under his skin, one hand leaving your face to grab your hips and pull you impossibly closer. “Anything, y/n, ask it of me, I am sworn to you, I will do whatever it takes to grant your heart’s desire.”

You whimper once more at his words, and the sound strikes through him like lightning. The scent of jasmine, your soft lips, soft skin, the taste of honey from your morning meal, he could devour you, a beast he is for his thoughts, for how easy it would be to pick you up and have his way with you. You are already sworn to each other, good as betrothed, would it truly be such a crime…?

Bastard. The word is like an arrow to the chest, and he pushes you away, guilt replacing the heat beneath his skin.

“Jon? Are you alright?” You ask, going to cup his cheek.

He stops you. “I—I cannot, we cannot. We are not wed; I will not dishonor you.”

You look put out, blinking rapidly at him, and then slowly nodding. “I understand.”

Jon sags against the wall, rolling his head back, praying for strength when he hears you sniffling. His head shoots up, just in time to see you wipe away your tears. Truly you are spoiled. He reaches for you, brushing his lips across your forehead with a fond smile. “Y/N, do not cry, soon we will be wed, we must allow the pieces to fall into place, remember?”

“You will fall in love with Margaery.” You whisper, hiding your face in his leather breastplate.

He laughs, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “How? How when my heart is within those claws of yours? When I see no reason to remove it?”

“She is perfect, the tales of her beauty, her grace, her intelligence, her dutifulness, she would make an excellent wife.”

“Aye, an excellent wife for Robb, she will win his heart with a few words I am sure of it, but there is no heart of mine for her to win. It is as I said, my heart is yours, willingly given. I do not want it back, nor do I wish to give it to another.”

You turn your face up towards him, the living embodiment of perfection, your hair framing your face, your lips kiss swollen, your eyes the dark green of Winterfell’s forests. “Swear it.”

He clicks his tongue in faux disappointment. Here in the shadows he is bold, intoxicated by your raw and bleeding desire for him. If his heart is within your claws then surely your own heart sits within his maw, fragile and beating. “To think I have served you so faithfully and still you doubt me.”

“Swear it.” You half demand, half plead, your heart between his teeth beating faster, trembling in his toothy grasp.

He cups your face, resting his forehead against your own. “I swear it, and may the gods strike me down if I break my oath, if my heart strays from you.”

He feels your relieved exhale more than he hears it, and he lingers, thumbs caressing the soft skin of your cheeks.

“I swear it too.” You say softly, your hand coming to rest on his chest, heat burning through his breastplate, warming his chest. He hopes you leave a handprint, hopes you burn your mark into his skin, leave a remainder of your presence that cannot be taken from him.

TL: @mostclevermiss, @solacestyles, @2valentines, @sharknutz, @idohknow, @bdudette, @pluraldoggo

[xetlynn]

Twilight- Youngest Shadow: Chapter Seven, Meet Again

(Alice X Reader X Jasper)

[Six] [Seven] [Eight]

Meeting the parents… Okay.. Yeah, I can do this. They aren’t really their parents. Also not like I just started talking to them or anything. I take a deep breath just as someone starts knocking on my door. I look to see it’s Bella standing in my doorway, I smile as she enters my room. “What’s up?” I tilt my head. “Woww, you actually dressed up.” She pokes my side, I jerk away from her, rolling my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you too.” I compliment, going over to my mirror I just had put up with the help of Charlie. 

I just bought new jewelry for my piercings, to make them less noticeable as well. “You nervous?” She comes up behind me, I give her a look through the mirror, not even turning around to do so. “Stupid question, Bells.” I stand up straight, fixing my hair as I do so. 

“[Name], that boy’s here.” Charlie calls, my body tenses up. My smirks, “shut up.” I tell her, leaving her in my room and I go to the front door. “Bye, dad. I’ll see you later!” I shout out, I’m already out of the door, Jasper there to greet me at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Where’s Alice?” I ask, he takes my arm, leading me to his car. “We thought it would be best to have your dad think you’re just dating me so you don’t have to deal with anything awkward unless you chose to.” He explains, opening the car door for me, letting me get in then shutting it to go to the other side. He gets in quite quickly as if he was already missing my touch. 

Once on the road he puts his hand in between us, giving me the choice to take it. I’d be stupid not to, my hand meets his. I watch him smile in the corner of my eye. Now thinking about it him and Alice always need to hold or touch me in some sort of way. These past three days have been filled of them either putting an arm around my waist, a hand holding mine, one of them clinging to my arm or a hand simply on my shoulder and knee. 

The ride through the trees was beautiful, it’s something I could never get over. The peeping through of animals that stared, the animals that were just living their lives.

“We’re here.” Jasper mumbles, letting go of me but before we could even unbuckle my door opened. It was Alice there with a grin, she helped me out and shut the door. “You look beautiful.” She kisses my cheek that has already warmed up from the attention I got from Jasper. She clinged to my arm as Jasper went up to the house opening the door for us. 

Four of them stood in front of me. “[Name], how wonderful it is to see you.” A lady engulfs me into a hug, confused but still hugging her back she lets go, taking my face in her hands. “It’s been so long.” She whispers, I smile awkwardly, not knowing what she’s talking about. 

“Esme, she doesn’t remember.” Alice reminds her, Esme’s face drops as it clicks in her head. “It’s nice to see you again, [Name].” Dr. Cullen or Carlisle smiles, I nod. “It’s nice when my sister is not hurt at a hospital.” I joke, he chuckles agreeing with me. “Certainly.” I figured he probably meant the same thing as Esme about seeing me again. Realizing they have all met me before in my past life before this one. 

I glance over to Emmett and Rosalie, remembering their names from when Jessica and Angela has explained who they were to Bella. Rosalie has a soft smile upon her lips as Emmett grinned. “Were we friends..?” I questioned, they all chuckle but I wasn’t joking. “Very good ones.” Rosalie tells me and I let out a breath of relief. Her man squeezes her to his side. “Oh yeah, we’ve made quite the memories. You were a wild one.” He laughs loudly, I look back at Alice and Jasper who looked almost pissed by his words but quickly hide it once they saw my face. 

“Well, we’re going to talk to her for a little ourselves before Edward and Bella get here.” Alice excuses the three of us, I wave to them and they happily do the same back. Rosalie had an expression on her face once Bella’s name was mentioned. She seemed pained? Disgusted? I mentally shrug, most likely going to find that out later. 

“What was that about?” I ask them once we were out on a balcony. They act confused but I knew they know what I am talking about. “Your faces when Emmett said something about my past life. Why can’t anyone tell me anything?” I cross my arms. I was a little upset, I don’t understand why they refuse to tell me about myself. 

“[Name], it’s something you have to figure out and know on your own. It will come.” Alice places her hand on my shoulder. I roll my eyes. “Okay, another question.” I state, they both make eye contact with me and I continue. “Why are none of you affected by my blood? Okay I get you two but everyone else also seemed perfectly fine.” 

“Carlisle is because he’s been around and a vegetarian way longer than us.” Alice tells me, “The others is because you’re different, we haven’t figured it out but we don’t know.” Jasper frowns, I could tell they wish they knew so they could tell me. Also probably because I ask so many things. 

I hear two car doors shut and I look over to see Edward and Bella are here. They don’t notice us or at least Bella doesn’t so I turn back to the other two. 

“So, we have to warn you of something.” Alice starts and I notice Jasper has tensed up. “Jasper does well around you obviously but your sister not so much.” I nod, understanding. Jasper holds onto my arm and I look at him sympathetically. 

“We want to also give her a small welcoming gift. We have one for you but that’s later.” Alice winks, Jasper then suddenly picks me up and I gasp as they jump down from the balcony. I hide my face in his neck. He chuckles, carefully placing me back down. Alice goes around picking random wild flowers, I watch as she will turn and ask if each one is pretty enough. 

Each time we would tell her they are perfect. 

I think of all the questions building inside of my head as I lean against a tree, patiently letting Alice do her thing and drag Jasper with her. 

And the one question that seems to never go away: Why me?

Out of all of this, why me? Out of everyone, why me? Something I don’t think even they can answer. Or anyone, really. “[Name], let’s go back.” Alice happily says, showing me her flowers too. I smile, nodding, letting Jasper pick me back up and I squeeze my eyes shut as they jump over the rail. Jasper letting me down but holding my hand immediately after.

“Hi, Bella!” 

Alice bounces forward towards my sister, kissing her cheek and handing her the flowers. “I’m Alice. You do smell good!” She seemed to be teasing. “Alice.” Edward starts. “It’s alright, Bella and I are going to be great friends.” She tells the taller vampire. 

Bella extends out her hand. “And you’re Jasper, right?” He grips my hand a tiny bit tighter and I squeeze it back. “Pleasure to meet you.” He steps behind me. 

“You won’t hurt her, Jasper.” Alice gently encourages him, Edward ends up taking her hand instead. “I’ll give you a tour of the house.” 

“I’ll see you soon.” Alice speaks up, Edward shoots her a look, both Bella and I notice before her guides her further up the house. Jasper seems disappointed in himself then his eyes go to my face and I smile causing him to do the same.

 Alice slides her arm to my waist, giving me a short hug. As awkward as that whole thing was I was glad my sister found someone. The two end up leaving my side, Jasper and Alice tell me they have to talk about something.

Moments later we hear them laughing outside. “She’s brought him to life.” I overhear Esme talking. “He’s been alone too long… but how can it end well?” Carlisle responds. “Alice has been wrong before.” Esme enterjects.

“Not often.”

“How about [Name], she only remembers everything when she comes to a near death experience that in the end does end up-” 

My eyes widen, the words that come out of Esme’s mouth cause my breathing to hitch. Near death… What?

Everything looks blurry and I clench at my chest as I try to catch my breath. I hear someone yelling at me but it sounds disoriented. I hold onto whatever is closest to me and end up knocking a glass thing over, breaking it. Luckily someone walks me away from it. I look up. “Hey, hey, calm down.” It’s Alice and Rosalie holding me as I glance over to see Carlisle and Emmett picking up the glass. “I’m sorry.” I exaspperate. “You’re okay, don’t worry. I need you to breathe.” Alice holds my face in her hands almost like Esme did before but this is more comforting knowing it’s my Alice. 

She places a hand on my heart. Then Jasper gently push the two girls away and suddenly my fear went away and I can actually take a deep breath without it hurting. Alice pulls me into her arms as everything calms down. 

“I want to go home.” I sigh. “We can do that.” She assures me. “I’m sorry,” I apologize to everyone in the room.��

[hyuckkaiji]

loyal she began, so she remains - sebastian x f!reader

summary; he waited too long to hold you in his arms again. he waited too long to give up now. you are his, and he will have you. pt.3

word count; 4.3k

warnings; 18+, explicit content, some physical violence, porn with a plot, mentions of cheating/infidelity

note; and they lived happily ever after. One for the Seb girlies hehehe. last last part to this little unofficial series. pt.1, pt.2, pt.3 Ominis

Sebastian twirled his wand with deft fingers, staring at the cold fireplace, listening, waiting.

It had been almost three months since he saw you. One would think three months would feel like nothing in comparison to eight years, but they would be wrong.

He longed for you, he dreamt of you, bided his time until he could hold you in his arms again. And the day came, you were there, his beautiful girl, you were in his arms after all that time. But when he awoke, you were gone, and that hurt him more than anything another wizard could ever do to him.

These months have been the worst of his life. To know where you are and not be able to claim you, it was tortuous. He doesn't blame you, he doesn't know how Ominis has messed with your head because clearly Ominis has messed with your head, there's no other explanation for you leaving his side and crawling back to that bastard.

He knows you don't love the auror, you could never love him. So what made you go back? He needs answers. He would have gotten them sooner, gotten you sooner, had it not been for your pest of a husband.

His old friend had been tracking him like a blood hound since the afternoon after the night he shared with you. But Ominis underestimated him, his skill, his intelligence. Ominis thinks he is the predator.

The door creaks slowly open, the hinges old and rusted. "You were a fool to come back here, Sallow." Ominis stood in the doorway, the grey light of the cloud filled sky seeping in behind him.

The auror took a few steps forward, letting sagging wood slowly groan as it fell shut. "You should have stayed away, I gave you your freedom, and you wasted it by trying to come back for her."

Sebastian leaned back, watching Ominis with a lazy gaze, his fingers still fiddling with his wand. "Of course I came back for her. You thought I wouldn't?" Sebastian tsks, "Truly old friend, you should have known better."

Ominis shrugs, "Your mistake, fugitive. They've already got your cell in Azkaban waiting for you."

"Have they?" Sebastian let's out a breathy laugh, Ominis' lips twitch in irritation.

"You never could take anything seriously."

"Ohh, you've caught me." Sebastian throws his hands up in mock surrender though he knows the auror cannot see the gesture.

"You've cornered the big bad fugitive. Haven't you, Gaunt?" Sebastian stands, Ominis points his wand at the abrupt action. "I cared about you once, Sallow. I have allowed that past affection to cloud my judgment. I have allowed you to walk a free man. No more."

"Free?" Sebastian sneers, "You keep saying that word, you must have forgotten its meaning for I have not been free in eight years."

"I have lived alongside the rats in sewers, I have starved, I have survived off rotting scraps. I have done much and more just to keep myself alive, and you call that freedom. What did I do to deserve that -"

"You are a murder, Sebastian!"

"I just wanted to save my sister! She was in unending pain, all I ever wanted was to help her! And you and my uncle tried to stop me! Only one person truly supported me!" Sebastian's breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling with heavy huffs.

Ominis features twisted in disgust, "My wife is not yours to claim. We are no longer children, and it has been many years since she was yours. If you had just accepted that, if you had just stayed away. The miserable existence you created for yourself would be no concern of mine."

"But alas Sallow, here we stand. All things must come to an end, you are no exception."

Sebastian barks out a laugh, "Do you plan to kill me, Gaunt?"

"You do not matter enough for me to soil my hands in such a manner."

Sebastian hums, "I only matter enough for you to personally track me for months."

"Only because you came near my wife."

"My point still stands, and I did more than just go near her."

Ominis' grip tightened on his wand, his knuckles draining of color. "Of course you would take pride in that little indiscretion. I'll have you know that my wife does not. That's why she came back home to me. She is waiting for me at home this very moment, swelling with my child."

A ball dropped in Sebastian's stomach, nauseous at the thought of you pregnant with the Aurors child. "You didn't."

A satisfied smirked pulls at Ominis lips, allowing himself to enjoy the blow, for a moment he pays no real mind to Sebastian. But a moment was all Sebastian needed. He lunged.

Sebastian's hand wrapped around Ominis', yanking his away his wand. Tossing it, where it hit against the stone corner of the fireplace, landing with the sound of wood cracking.

Sebastian couldn't explain what came over him, to fight like a muggle, to abandon his wand in the face of a fight. All he knew was he needed to feel his fists collide with Ominis face, he needed to feel the impact, hear the crunch of bone as he landed blow after blow.

He didn't know how long it went on, but when he pulled back, breathing ragged, fists covered in Ominis' blood and knuckles raw and cracked, Ominis wasn't conscious, the only sign of life was his chest rising and falling with shallow breathes.

Sebastian stood, grimacing at the scene before him. Silently thanking the gods, he hadn't lost himself enough to kill someone he once loved. He wasn't dead, and at the very least, Sebastian was grateful for that. He had done terrible things in these past years, but there were still things he could not bring himself to do. Things he could never forgive if he did. Not again.

This was for the boy he was, the boys they were. Sebastian left the auror there, a silent prayer that their paths never cross again.

When he stepped out of the worn down cottage, rain was falling, showering down on him, soaking through his clothes, washing away the blood that clung to him, washing away his sins.

He breathed in deep, closing his eyes. Letting the smell of fresh wet earth permeate his senses. He strolled through Feldcroft as if he owned it, as if he belonged, as if it was his home and his wife he was heading towards. As far as he was concerned, it was.

You are his home, his life, his everything. And only the thought of having you again got him through those long years. He had laid out his path, his future, your future. All that was left was collecting that which he loved most.

His hand wrapped around the handle, cold metal biting into his skin. He could feel the magic that was surrounding the house, protection charms on top of protection charms. But these charms were not meant to protect but trap.

Sebastian pulled his wand out, casting counter charms, breaking down layer after layer. It was not quick work, and truthfully not something he would have been able to do if not all that he had learned on the run. The magic he was using to break down the barriers is something others would call dark. Sebastian just calls it a different kind of magic, a necessary kind.

He finally broke through, the knob turning in his hand, the door sliding open to welcome him into the warm cottage. The smell of cinnamon toast was wafting through the air, nostalgic and inviting.

"You're back husband." Your voice was meek, docile. You came out from around the corner that led down the hall, your bare feet padding softly against the carpets you had laid out around the house.

"Sebastian." You stopped in your tracks, hands at your side, fists bunching into the fabric of your skirts. "Where is Ominis?" Sebastian's lip twitched in irritation at the question. "Gone."

"Y-you-" A gasp escaped, your hand coming up to press the tips of your fingers to your mouth in shock.

"For merlin's sake, I did not kill the man. He just happens to be ... indisposed." Sebastian waved a hand in the air. "But he'll come back to an empty home, you're coming with me."

You walked towards him, steps slow and cautious. Reaching a hand out to caress his cheek once you stood before him. Feeling him, in the flesh, your skin against his, that was your breaking point. You lauched yourself into his arms.

Violent sobs overtook you, your body shaking with the force of them as you clung to Sebastian. You held onto him as tight as you could, readjusting your grip to try and tighten it every few seconds. You crumpled in his arms, he allowed you to, sinking to the ground so you could sit in his lap. Arms around his neck, face buried in his shoulder as he cradled you.

"I'm sor-ry, I-m sorry, s-orry." You mumbled almost incoherent apologies into his shirt in between hiccups. "My sweet girl," he cooes, "you have nothing to apologize for." One arm holds you as the other hand runs through your hair in an attempt to soothe you.

He holds you, whispering soothing words and sweet nothings until you calmed down. "I shouldn't have come back ... I felt so guilty for betraying Ominis ... I-I," you shook your head, trying to articulate your thoughts.

"He supported me for so long, I felt like I owed it to him to come back. My own happiness be damned but ... he ... I've been trapped in this house for months, Sebastian. All this time, all I could think of was you," you brought a protective hand up to rest on your stomach, "and our child."

"Our?"

"This life that grows inside me, it could only be yours, my love. The thing about contraceptive potions ... you can make them for one person. The ones I brewed only kept out Ominis. It worked for years, I know it didn't just suddenly stop. This is your child, Sebastian, our child."

His lips are on yours in a hearts beat, soft and needy. His tongue swipinging over your bottom lip as his hand tangles in your hair. It felt like home, it was a feeling he longed for during the countless nights alone.

You moaned into the kiss, allowing yourself to finally relax, to feel safe in the Sebastian's arms. His fingers had come up to clumsily undo the buttons of your blouse, never breaking your kiss.

You pulled away, taking over, discarding your clothes in a rush, your fingers precise where his had been ill practiced. He did the same, tossing his clothes aside without a care before pulling you back into him, savoring the feeling of your skin against his.

"I am going to ruin this house the same way I ruined you." He pressed a kiss to your temple, fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps down your skin. "I'm going to fuck you over every surface of this house." He pushed you up against the nearest wall, a gasp escaping your lips at the sudden impact . His lips traveled down, warm kisses along your neck making a shiver run down your spine.

"I'll not leave a single room unspoiled for that insecure twat." He kissed his way down your torso, settling himself between your legs, pulling a leg over his shoulder to expose you to him, you sucked in a breathe as his breathe fanned over you.

"Fuck, you're so wet already. This is all for me, pretty girl?" His tongue swipes slow and torturous over your sopping cunt, flicking over your bundle of nerves at the end. "So fucking sweet."

He looking up at you with hungry eyes, every puff of air he breathes out hitting your clit, making you shiver above him but he make no move to continue. "Sebastian, please." Your words are breathless and a hand tangles in his hair as you attempt to push his face right where you need him.

"Beg."

"Sebastian." You throw your head back in frustration. You couldn't find the words to describe how you want him if you tried. "Stop playing games with me."

"I'm not." He leans just enough to let the tip of his nose graze the sensitive bub, "I just wanna hear you say it. Come on, just once." He presses a kiss, you sigh at the feeling.

"Please, Sebastian, I need you, please touch me."

Those words, the slight whine in your voice, sent a jolt to his already hard cock. He has one hand supporting your hip and leg over his shoulder, the other arm supporting your back and pushing you closer to him.

His mouth is pressed back against you, sucking, nipping, licking away as you grip his hair. You had always felt pleasure with Ominis, wanted him even but not like this.

Though the physicalities of it all were much the same, it was different, in your heart, in your soul. No other could make you feel the way he did, the way you felt right now.

Your legs tensed, attempting to close around his head. His arm dropped from your hip, wrapping around your thigh to pry your legs back apart, never stopping his ministrations against your throbbing clit.

Your orgasm racked your body, your head thrown back in pleasure. Sebastian stayed kneeling, peppering kisses along your inner thighs and hips. Chuckling to himself as he listened to your pants, your body trying to regulate itself again coming down from your peak.

Your legs wobbled as he stood, allowing you to plant both legs on the ground once again. He leaned in kissing you, allowing the taste of your cum to settle on your tounge.

"You're all fucking mine, now show where your bed is sweetheart." You lead him to your bedroom by his hand.

"How does your husband normally fuck you?" You hummed, crawling onto the bed before flopping onto your back, bringing your knees up just enough to give him space to join you, as Ominis normally does.

Sebastian clicks his tongue against his teeth with a tsk. "Everytime?"

"Near enough. Would you like something different?"

Sebastian walks over to you, bringing his hand to wander over your breasts, pulling a pert nipple between fingers. Twisting and pulling at the nub, earning a soft moan from you. He lets his fingers wander, trailing over your ribs, scratching his nails lightly over your stomach.

He stoops just below your hips, giving a quick tap. "Come here." You crawl back off the mattress, slightly uncertain in your movements. You stand before Sebastian, feeling even more exposed though nothing has changed.

He examins you, letting his eyes follow his hands path as it trails. He gathers your hair in one palm, pulling it behind your shoulders and letting it fall loose.

His fingers graze your collar bone, the way he's looking at you makes you feel like a piece of art, something that exists only for him to admire. Running his fingers over every curve and crevice like he's trying to understand how you were created. You shiver under his scrutinizing gaze.

He grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, softly, just enough to bring your eyes to his. "Bend over." His voice is soft but commanding, leaving no room for argument. And you don't need to be told twice.

You gather all your pillows, pulling them to your chest to prop you up a bit as you lean over the mattress. The anticipation alone making your clit throb.

Sebastian brings a rough hand up to further feel as he looks you over, the sight almost rivals looking up at you from between your legs, almost. He grips the flesh of your ass, gods how many times did he have this exact dream?

"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever set eyes on, do you know that?" He let his hands settle in a firm grip on your waist, leaning over you, his hard cock pressed into your bottom as he pressed kisses into your spine, whispering as he went.

"I promise I'll make you happy, I'll give you anything you want or need. I'll give you a life you deserve."

He lined himself up with your dripping entrance, "You ready?" Letting his cock sink in slowly after you nodded your approval.

He groaned at the feeling of the wet warmth wrapping around him, quickly falling into a steady place. Sliding in and out of you with deep stokes, allowing the tip of his cock to bully your cervix.

You could feel the coil in your gut winding tighter and tighter with every stroke, so close to tipping you over the edge. You buried your face the mattress, muffling your cries and tangling your fists in the blankets.

"Oh no baby, I wanna those pretty little moans." Sebastian wrapped your hair in a fist, using it to pull you up into his chest. The grip of his other traveled from your hips to your stomach, pressing down just below your naval. The grip he had in your hair moving to keep a firm grip on your throat, keeping you pressed firmly against him.

This angle allowed him to fuck you at depths you'd never felt before, depths that had you tipping, the coil snapping inside you as you spasmed around him. Throwing your head back in pure ecstasy as another orgasm over took you.

Sebastian nuzzled his face into the exposed crook of your neck, sucking and biting in a fresh pink mark. His hips slowing their pace but continuing enough to draw out your pleasure.

"You didn't finish." You were panting, your skin covered in a sheen of sweat. You continued to clench around him, your body overwhelmed but still mindlessly chasing the pleasure only he could give you.

"I didn't want to yet." You could feel him smile against you."You're not satisfied yet, you animal?" You let out a breathy laugh but Sebastian only hummed bringing his fingers down to rub harsh circles into your swollen bud.

"I'll never be done with you." He pulled out, letting you lean against him, almost pure dead weight, unable to keep yourself standing.

He leads you to the kitchen on unsteady legs, arm around your waist supporting you the entire way. "Keel for me, love."

A good obedient girl, all his, only his. He smiled down at you as you struggled to fulfill his request, looking up at him through your lashes once you succeeded. "So pretty." He muttered, in awe of the sight before him.

You wrapped one hand around the base of his shaft guiding him into your waiting mouth. Your tongue wrapping around the underside of his shaft as you bob around him, your hand stroking what you can't fit. "Good fucking girl." Sebastian practically growls the words.

One hand shooting out to tangle at the roots of your hair, he uses the leverage to push you further down. You let him, your own hands gripping the flesh of his bottom, blunt nails digging in as you gag around him. Sebastian let's out a low hiss, enjoying the slight mix pain and pleasure.

He uses his grip to hold you in place as he thrusts, the tip of his cock abusing the back of your throat. Drool is dripping down your chin and tears well in your eyes but you let him use you, the sight of him with his head thrown back, eyes screwed shut, and teeth biting so hard into his bottom lip you think he might make himself bleed, it's too lovely a sight for you to try and pull away.

His thrusts become erratic before burying himself so deep you gag around him as your nose presses against his pubic bone. Tears finally falling free as his warm, salty cum shoots down your throat, he holds you there until he's sure you've swallowed all of it.

When he finally pulls free with a soft pop from your mouth, your lips are puffy and swollen with a line of drool still connecting the two of you.

He pulls you to your feet, still using your hair as his personal tool. He pushes you up against the table, your hands falling to grip the hard wood and steady yourself. Sebastian doesn't wait before dipping his head to the valley between your breasts, his tongue darting out the catch the drool that had slid down your skin, his tongue following the wet path up the collum of your throat ending at your lips.

His kiss is feral, possessive, all tongue and teeth nipping at your lower lip. His hands wrap around your thighs to hoist you up onto the wood. "Merlin, I need you like I need air." He speaks the words against your lips, his eyes falling shut as he presses his forehead to yours, a shuttering breath falling from his lips.

"I love you, Sebastian." You whisper back to him, using the back of a hand to rub against his cheek softly. He smiles at you, a man captived by what he never truly thought he would have, never thought he deserved. Truthfully he's not sure he does deserve this, deserve you. But he'll be damned before he lets anyone else have you.

He's using his tip to gather the slick from your still seeping hole, rubbing it over your clit, making you shudder. When he feels he's gathered enough he pushes back into you, making you gasp.

Your legs wrap around his waist and your arms around his neck, letting your head fall against a shoulder. He splays one large hand over your lower back and uses the other to balance against the table. His hips stutter at first, still sensitive from his orgasm, but he find his pace.

You had never realized how loving sex can feel, how his pace alone could convey that. The way his fingers dig into your skin with every thrust, every pant and groan that escapes him. You knew, all of it told you, this is a man that worships you, a man that has been enamored by you since he first met you. And though he may tell you, you're his, first and foremost, he's yours.

It didn't take long for either of you to reach another orgasm, both your bodies still so sensitive. You clung to him as your third orgasm overtook you. His grip on you was brusing as his hips jutted rhythmless against you, he muttered incoherent praises into your skin and his seed shot into you.

You stayed like that for a moment, just holding each other as you came down from your respective highs. "My sweet boy, my Sebastian." You mumbled against him as you stroked your fingers through his hair, the words made him cling tighter to you, part of him worrying if he lets you go this time he'll never hold you again.

"Promise you won't leave me."

"Oh my darling," you coo at him, bringing him up to face you, to look you in the eyes, "you have my heart, you carried it with you all these years. I couldn't leave you if I tried for I am yours, mind, body and soul. I think our love could transcend lifetimes."

∘₊✧───── ─── ─────✧₊∘

Epilogue;

"I am not, you insatiable beast." You giggled pulling your hands out of the soapy water you had just been using to wash dishes.

"You satiate me, love." He turns you to face him, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Beautiful." He mumbles, bringing a hand up to rest on the swell of your stomach. "Me or the baby?"

He hums, "Both. The most beautiful beings to every grace this gods forsaken planet."

You shake your head, "Well, you can't put another in me until this one is out. And we still have some time yet so I think you should focus on the here and now and go get ready for work."

You brush his curls out of his face, stroking a thumb over his cheekbone. He hums, smiling at you, "Yes, you are ever correct, wife."

"Husband." You give him a quick peck on the lips.

"Brother, it's mine!" The shrill voice of your five year old daughter echos through your house, followed by the mischievous giggle of her younger brother.

"Hey! Hey!" Sebastian calls out, rushing over to the running toddler in two quick strides, scooping the child up in his arms. The boy giggles wrapping his arms around his father. "We don't steal, my boy. Play nice now, you lot cannot be stressing your mommy while she's pregnant. It's not good for the baby."

He kneels, pressing the stolen stuffed rabbit back into his daughter's hands. She smiles quickly at him before scampering away, toy in hand. He shoos his son shortly after before turning back to you.

"What's the max?"

"I was thinking this might be the final one." You leaned against the counter, watching him with a glint in your eye.

"I was thinking at least one more." He responded.

"Aye perhaps. I could never say no to you." You walk over to him, throwing your arms around his neck.

"How do you think the muggles do it?" You asked.

"I don't think they do, bet they cry themselves to sleep wishing they had a silencio charm."

"Seb!" You scolded with a playful slap to his chest.

When Sebastian was young he thought himself the master of plans, thought himself brilliant even but nothing will ever top this, this success. The best plan he ever wrought, whisking you away to America. Muggles know nothing of him, nothing of you. His life is sweet, a dream come true. And he is most grateful.

[madwomansapologist]

Hi. Can you write a smut scene between the female reader and my favorite Disney character, Captain Hook from Disney’s Peter Pan 1953 original film that starts with love at first sight please? I have a serious fangirl crush on him.

hooked by you | captain hook

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synopsis: It happened. It finally happened. Hook defeated Peter Pan. He saw the silhouette flying above the clouds, readied the modified harpoon that fired a net, and finally managed to catch him! Little did he knew it wasn't Peter Pan.

warnings: DarlingSister!reader. female!reader. porn with plot. love at first sight. mention of erotic literature. that man is possessive. guns. chats about murder.

note: Thanks for your request, darling! I watched it again to write this, and I've just realized it's been almost eight years since I last saw Peter Pan. It was fun. And you made me realize I don't have normal pure thoughts about Hook. Like if I needed another character to be obsessed with. Hope you like it!

After so much screaming and arguing, George and Mary finally left the house. You waved, wished them a good night, and locked the front door. What a mess. All that fuss because of a character from a bedtime story.

You went upstairs and opened the door to your sibilings' room, but the three of them were already asleep. You knew that Wendy didn't want to leave the children's room, you thought that if you talked to her that fear could be eased, but she was already sighing. Maybe tomorrow.

You entered your room and changed into your pearly nightgown. You saw your parents entering a cabriole from the wide window. When they disappeared, you ran into the backyard and released Nana from the leash.

Tomorrow you'll sort it out with your dad. George can be furious, your mom word it as passionate, but deep down he's the most caring father you could wish for. George is always barking, never biting.

And your night would have ended there if you hadn't looked up. You should have seen a starry night. A full moon. But you saw your brothers. Flying.

That's it. You went crazy. Mad. Lunatic.

"Peter, wait!" Michael cry out. "You forgot one sister!"

"Michael?" You shuddered. Insane. Completely insane. "Michael, is that you?"

"Wait a second!" Michael waved the teddy bear at you and disappeared into the sky. After a infinite second, he appeared with something glowing in his hand and flew towards you. "Think happy thoughts," he instructed you.

Then a glittering dust fell on you. You coughed and tried to clear yourself. Crazy. Completely crazy. When you looked down, you saw the ground. Which would be normal. If it wasn't too far away.

Michael took your hand. "I told you Peter Pan existed!"

"Oh. My God." You shouted. "Oh. My God." You were flying! Flying. No. No, you weren't. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and emptied your mind. When you opened your eyes, you saw the Big Ben. From above. "Oh. My. God."

"Don't be scared." Michael gave you two pats on the back. The same you do when he wakes up from a nightmare. He gave you his teddy bear. You hold onto it like it would protect you from anything. "We are going to Neverland!"

Then Michael flew again. You got to see John and Wendy flying up ahead, along with who could only be Peter Pan. You tried to follow them, but flying was a lot harder than the three of them made it out to be.

It was just a really realistic dream. Just that. A good dream about flying with your siblings.

Hugging the teddy bear, you slowly followed them. You passed chimneys, climbed through clouds, stood over the hands of Big Ben: always a few minutes late in comparison to them. But in the end, even with a lot of fear, you did follow them towards the Second Star to the Right.

Seeing Neverland, you felt butterflies in your stomach. It wasn't madness, it wasn't a dream, it was true. When the four stopped on a cloud, you thought you finally caught up with them.

Then something hit you.

It got tangled up in your body, heavy enough to make you fall. A net pulling you into the sea. You tried to fly, you tried to let go, but the more you moved the more you got tangled up in it.

The net was heavy, pulling you down, but it wasn't a sudden fall. You just couldn't go up. Which didn't mean it was comfortable. Yards and yards of fabric tangled up on you, just weighing you down.

A whirlwind of voices showed you that people were approaching, but you couldn't see anything. You just felt the impact against what must have been the ground. It didn't hurt, but it felt weird to stop flying.

"Finally, Mr. Smee, I will take care of my worthy opponent." You heard a rough, deep voice. People laughed at what he said. "I've waited years for it."

"That's not countin' the holidays, either", Mr. Smee complete. "Aye, there is the knife, Captain."

You tried to let go but only heard a deep chuckle. "Don't be a coward, my old enemy, face your fate." You heard the ripping of ropes. The weight on you began to lift. "Hook defeated you."

The knot holding the hammock came undone, and only then did you realize how much you needed to breathe without pounds of rope over your face. You blinked, the sun blinded you, and the black silhouette in front of you took on color.

And he was beautiful. You've read stories about pirates. Beautiful and funny stories like the ones Wendy shares with her brothers. But also about strong men, who know their ships like the back of their hands, who survive the ravages of the sea and vanquish the mightiest heroes. And you've also read about pirates who knew how to please a woman, dishonest men who kneel in front of their beloved, experienced men doing things girls shouldn't even know exist.

Hook reminded you of the latter type. "Disappointed?", you whispered. After all, it was just a dream.

Hook was frozen in place. Ready to slit Peter's throat and deliver him an honorable death, what was caught in his net was something far different than his little imp.

His heart was pounding so loudly that he almost didn't hear the question asked by the lady in front of him. Disappointed? How could he? You were more beautiful than any mermaid, more graceful than any woman he had ever seen, more delicate than any pearl. Wars would be fought in your honor and that would be the least any man with sense could do.

But his sailors are not known for being sensible.

"Of course we are!" One of them thought he had the right to talk to you. As if it wasn't already a miracle that he could see someone like you. "Where's Peter?"

Then Hook moved. He took the revolver out of his jacket and, without even looking in the direction he was aiming, pulled the trigger. The sailor fell overboard.

"Forgive me", Hook extends his hand to you. "My men don't know how to treat a lady."

You hesitated but accepted the touch. Hook set you on your feet again, more gently than you thought a pirate could display. "Apparently you kidnapped me."

"Aye, this is just a misunderstanding. See, I thought you were Peter Pan. It's not every day you see someone different flying over my ship."

"So... can I leave?" Your feet left the ground. Looks like you were already getting used to this flying thing. "And nothing will happen to me?"

Hook ran his fingers through his hat, a polite smile spreading across his face. "I would never dream of hurting you." Hook gestured toward his office. "May I apologize for the misunderstanding?"

"Apologize?"

"Drinks and conversation." Hook ran his fingers over his face. Good thing Mr. Smee shaved. It would be a horror if the love of his life met him in something other than his best version. "A proper apology."

You wouldn't normally accept such a request. To be alone with an unknown and dangerous man. Drinking with a man! But that was just a dream.

In his room, you floated around looking at the different shelves and finds. A pirate ship! It has so many treasures. "If you had captured Peter, would you have killed him?"

Your question took him by surprise. "That doesn't strike me as a conversation of lady interest."

As you turned, you saw Hook swapping the silver hook for a gold one. You smirked. "I showed interest, didn't I?"

Bossy. Ah, Hook knew you were his soulmate for sure. "I would have. Does that bother you?"

"No." You floated toward him, and sat down on the chair across from the table. Hook poured two glasses of some drink. You took the glass and thanked him, but didn't drink. "After all, this it's nothing but a dream."

"Dream?” Hook chuckled, downing his drink and sitting back in his armchair. “What convinces you of that?”

"I was at home, ready for bed, and suddenly I was flying to Neverland." You shrugged. "Clearly a dream."

Hook understood what was happening. Peter seems to have been confused. You are not a lost child. He never was careful. "I can prove this is not a dream."

"How?"

Hook rose, slowly circling the table. In front of her, he leaned on the wood. "Aren't you going to drink?"

Only then did you remember the glass in your hands. You took a sip, a grimace came over your face. "Strong", you coughed.

"Here's the proof." Hook touched your chin, making you lift your head and look. Only he did it with the golden hook. "Ever felt something like that in a dream?"

You swallowed hard. "No."

"So that means you're alone with the most dangerous pirate on the seven seas, the person who wouldn't have thought twice about slicing someone's throat out, completely helpless." Hook leaned in until he could feel your breath against his face. "Does that bother you?"

"You don't seem interested in ripping my throat out."

He gave you time to walk away. To fly in the direction you wanted. To leave him without saying a single word. Hook gave you time, but you let him kiss you.

He tasted like the rum you ignored. The hook left your chin and slid down to your waist, pulling you toward him. You leaned into his chest, kissing him back. It was so wrong, so unlike anything you would ever do, but it also felt so good.

You pulled away for air, and felt his fingers caressing your cheek. When you opened your eyes, you saw that Hook was smiling. "Do you know how to be silent?" You nodded in agreement. "Excellent."

He lifted you from the chair, and in one swift movement sat you down on the table. Hook was strong. Too strong. He pressed his thumb to your lip, watching you with lust. "You were made for me."

Before you could say anything, Hook knelt. You've read about it in books, but you could never imagine it would be such a satisfying sight. A man so strong, so dangerous, brought to his knees by you.

Hook didn't even bother to remove your nightgown. He just stuck his head between the fabric, desperate to satisfy you. To make you feel the same way he felt about you. To make you scream for him and make everyone understand that you belonged with him.

And so you did. Feeling him delight in your curves, his tongue brushing against your lips, his fingers pressing into your clit. You tried to be silent as he asked, but after a while you stopped worrying about it.

"You..." You didn't even knew what you wanted to say. You just wanted to feel more. To feel completed. To feel more and more of him. "I think I had dreams like that before."

You felt him gasp against your sex. Hook rose, his damp face close to yours, and you felt your face burn. "Haven't I convinced you this isn't a dream yet?"

His fingers explored your lips again, applying just the right pressure. You moaned against his lips, Hook squeezed his eyes shut. "What else do I have to do to convince you?"

You smiled. "I think you know what you need to do."

He bit your lip. "As you wish."

His fingers entered you. Slowly, carefully, but no less willingly. He filled you, long fingers repeatedly penetrating your insides, and you were unable to do anything but hold on to his shoulders and allow him to do whatever he wanted to you.

The sound of your wet pussy was almost embarrassing. "You're mine", Hook whispered against your ear.

"As you wish."

He quickened his movements, fucking you with a devotion no one has ever shown you. So close, so glued to your body, Hook has guided you to orgasm. You shuddered against his fingers, your fingernails scratched his perfectly groomed jacket, your moans were uncontrollable.

"Do you still think I'm part of a dream?” Hook trailed kisses from your throat to your jaw. “Has anything this good ever happened in your dreams?'

You shook your head. It was as close to an answer you were able to give him. It was enough for him. Hook is patient. He can wait.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-Eight

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Just fluff, heart-wrenching fluff

Notes: Okay, so. Last Sunday in my most graceful hour, I dislocated and subsequently fractured my thumb🙂 I also hated what I originally wrote and spent all week re-writing and re-writing this scene. I hope this isn’t trash and you guys like it, I’m so sorry for the delay on this one🥲

Word Count: 1614

Series Masterlist

• April 1st, 2006 • Home •

Reader

Ten o’clock on the dot, as promised, a knock on the front door draws me from my reverie. I’d spent the last 30 minutes after getting ready, lost in my head on the couch. Surely today’s talk with Jasper won’t end badly, god I hope not.

Swinging the door open, my eyes snap to his and a smile takes over my face on instinct. “Hey.”

“Good morning, darlin’.” The way his accent wraps around that familiar term of endearment will always make me weak in the knees.

He almost completely blocks my view but bright yellow behind him just barely snags my vision-is that?

“Did you-?”

“Borrow my sister’s apology gift? Yes, it’s a little bit too wet for a bike ride, sweetheart.” Turning to look at Alice’s car, he misses the blush heating my cheeks at the memory of the last time I was on his motorcycle, holding him close.

“Fair enough.” I turn to snag my coat from the hook near the door before closing and locking it.

His outstretched hand helps be down the front stairs before leading me to the passenger side of the beautiful Porsche. Beautiful is an understatement for this piece of machinery, I hate to even ruin the floor mats with my wet shoes.

“Alice chose her gift wisely, Edward did good.” Jasper chuckles slightly at my comment as I lower myself into the seat and he shuts the door gently, cocooning me in silence momentarily until his door opens.

“What she did for him - to save him, this was the least he could do.” Watching him start the car, I realize it’s a manual transmission.

He smoothly shifts it into reverse to exit my driveway before shifting again to leave the neighborhood. My brain stutters a little as I watch him maneuver the car, god - is everything this man does going to be ridiculously attractive?

“Where are we going?” I manage to drag my gaze from his hand and I’m caught, he smirks like he fucking knows.

“Since everyone is home, we’re going somewhere with privacy.” A shiver trickles over my skin quickly even though I’m wearing a coat, somewhere with privacy.

Excitement begins to bubble up in my chest and I opt to watch the trees as the pass by quickly outside my window, trying and probably failing to hide my own smirk.

Jasper

Easing the car to a stop, I watch as the realization of where we are dawns on her.

“Our spot!” A breathtaking smile overtakes her face as she turns to me quickly and I’m stunned, it’s like I’m staring at an angel incarnate, gorgeous.

I chuckle and exit the vehicle, excitement and pure joy flow from her unmitigated and I smile to myself, letting her emotion wash over me like waves gently lapping at the shore.

I barely graze the door handle with my fingers before her impatience at my lack of speed flings the door open. The moment I met her quickly flashing through my mind before I catch the door, stopping it from snapping back closed in her face. “Darlin’-” I tease her, but I’m not the object of her focus.

“This view really is unfair.” Her voice is gentle as she brushes past me and closes in on the railing at the edge, protectiveness flaring in my chest at her proximity to danger.

Sporadic, gloomy clouds dot the ridge line, but the scenery is bathed in a wetness from the rain that highlights the deep tones of the forest. The air is crisp and humid, clean but also heavy with the scent of drenched wood.

“It is.” But I’m not talking about what’s beyond, I’m looking at her.

She turns at my comment and realizes my words since my eyes never leave hers, a warm blush floods her face and I quickly remove the distance between us, my finger under her chin to stop her from hiding bashfully.

“No hiding from me, not this beautiful face.” I whisper as my eyes dance along the planes and contours of her. Her joy increases tenfold and I swear it gives me a new life, she gives me new life.

I kiss her quickly even though it goes against every fiber of my being not to take my time with her mouth, but we’re here for a purpose. For a conversation long overdue.

Jasper

Taking a deep breath and a step backwards to keep my head on straight, I dig down to my very core - somewhere no one else has been, and begin.

“To know me is to hate me - to hate me like I hate myself. I hate what I am at a cellular level. I can’t be a normal guy in love with a normal girl. I can’t allow myself to be caught up in you, your scent, your touch. I have to keep myself in check, I can’t let my thoughts or feelings run away from myself with you near. I can’t seduce you in ways I wish I could without the fear of hurting you.” A deep breath in and out, my throat is raw for the first time in a very long time, like the words bubbling up are burning. “And because I hate what I am, I hate who I am. I’m a monster that killed without complaint or a second thought for so long. It withered away at my soul, at my very core. It changed me entirely, I can’t rewind and get that version of myself back.” I swallow hard. My fingers run furrows through my hair, my skin is fucking crawling. “So how am I supposed to let you love someone like myself? How do I tether an angel like you, to a demon like me? How do I ask you to compromise yourself to fit into my world? Because you have to bend to me, you have to keep my secrets and give up so much of a normal life just to be mine. How do I ask that of the person I hold in highest regard? In the chance you choose this life, choose to change - you’re giving up on moving forward, having children, grandchildren, growing old with someone you love, staying in the lives of your loved ones, the list goes on and on and on. You could potentially come to resent me and darlin’, I wouldn’t survive that.” I pause, letting the words ruminate.

I feel slightly human again, breathing like I’ve run for miles. And I have, I’ve been outrunning this horrible inner monologue for one-hundred and forty-three years. Alone.

Until now. Until her.

Reader

I-I’m stunned. He can’t possibly think all of these things about himself, not this absolute gentleman, this tender and kind man?

“To get to know me-to love me, is a death sentence. I’m a walking liability, I’m not safe. With everything I’ve done, I’m a monster.”

“You are no such thing-” he opens his mouth to interrupt, but I’m quick to stop him. Giving him an encouraging smile I ask, “Let me get this out?”

His eyes are desperate and hanging on for dear life waiting for what I have to say.

“To know you is to love you, Jasper. You are so many things, but a death sentence - a liability, isn’t any of them. Nobody is safe in this world and I’m certainly safest when I’m with you.” Happy tears prick at my eyes as I dredge all of these feelings up, words he should’ve heard a lifetime ago. “And above it all, you. Are. Not. A. Monster. In any shape or form, Jasper Hale. You had a master manipulator as a creator, and she twisted you until you couldn’t take it anymore - until you had to run away. Monsters don’t feel remorse, regret, or empathy. This right here - what you’re feeling when you look inwards, is proof enough that you are not this terrible horrible thing incapable of giving or receiving love.” I smile up at him, so relieved to get this off my chest, “And if the last six months is anything, it’s proof that I don’t want this life if you aren’t in it. It’s insanity to even suggest that I could love anyone else a fraction of the amount that I love you, even more so to insinuate I’d ever build a life with anyone other than you. So no, I don’t care about any of those things, not if I can’t have you.”

I can see the racing thoughts behind the storm in his eyes, the war my words have waged on the inner monologue he’s had for most of his life. I don’t expect to change his way of thinking instantly, but all I’m looking for is just a ripple, a slight shift in the tide, something to work with and build over time because I’m not fucking going anywhere.

This man deserves someone to fight for him and I was meant to dawn this armor.

Jasper

“You have to know that you have an out, you don’t have to do this.” She’s stepping forward to cup my face and the depth of her eyes has me in a trance.

“I’m already all in, I’ve been in since the moment I met you. Stop offering outs, no amount of harsh truths are going to scare me away. It’s me and you.” She says it with such conviction my breath stutters.

“Me and you?” Unreal, this anchor holding me to earth, this angel willing to brave this life with me.

“Always.” She confirms my fate - our fate, like a simple fact. Short and sweet, just like her

Next

Taglist Part 1:

@aoi-targaryen @min-jianhyung @pbbsl @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings

[lillysdreaminnn]

Labyrinth.

Labyrinth; introduction.

Pairing; aaron hotchner x fem!oc

Words; 2.2k

Summary; Ivy got accepted to fill the empty place in the behavioural analysis unit - what she's been after her whole life - and meets her boss and colleagues for the first time.

Warnings; swearing, Derek being Derek, JJ being a little shit here and there (but we love her 🫶🏻), not proofread, i suck at warnings that's all ive got :)

A/n; hi! I decided to post my fic on here too! You can also find it on wattpad under the name Oceanbringerr (my dad picked it out 💀). It's my first fic 🫢 comments and reblogs are heavily appreciated and I hope you enjoy 🫶🏻🫶🏻

"So, do you think I'm hired?" Ivy muttered, fixing her blazer for what seemed to be the fifteenth time. April just shot her a glare, basically scolding her.

 "Okay babe; relax. You've been after this your whole life. You got this, I promise you honey." April tried to reassure her sister once again, watching her mess with her outfit more - messing it up even more.

 "Ivy, I swear to fucking God if you mess with your blazer one more time I will murder you." Violet, the eldest of the family, yelled as she shot up from her spot on Ivy's bed. She stormed over to her sister, forcefully fixing the blazer and top.

 "You're beautiful, honey." She said, a lot calmer this time. "I don't want him to employ me just because I'm beautiful." Ivy scoffed at her two sisters, putting her hair up in a slick ponytail, wanting to seem as serious as she felt about all this.

"So you haven't even met your boss yet?" Violet asked, popping a piece of chocolate in her mouth after she sat back down on Ivy's - once - perfectly made bed.

 "No, not yet. I only met section chief Erin Strauss... She seemed... Fine?" Ivy said with a soft laugh, turning back to her sisters who shot her a thumbs up. "Anyway, I have to go. Don't eat all of these, your date will go perfectly fine, plus you have seven more hours to stress about it." The girl snatched the chocolate away from her sister, smiling as Violet whined like a child.

 "Fine. Have fun!" The oldest sister called out after the youngling - in Violet's very words - as she ran out the door.

 Blasting some music in her car, Ivy was quick to arrive at the bureau. She took a moment to herself, staring at the building in complete and utter awe, telling herself that she finally made it. After all those years of pure blood, sweat and tears - maybe even literally - she was finally there.

 Taking a deep breath, she put her name-tag on and walked inside the huge building with a box of her stuff. She was greeted by the usual lovely agents she always passed as she made her way to the elevators, pressing the number eight.

 "Hold the doors!" A voice called out, making Ivy put her hand between the doors to keep them from shutting. Once the sensor got her hand, the doors re-opened, revealing a tall, strong man.

 He's handsome. Ivy thought to herself, smiling politely at him.

 "Thank you." He smiled at her, holding a cup of coffee in his left hand. "You're new here?" He asked Ivy, making her look up at him. "Uh, not exactly. I've just been promoted to the behavioural analysis unit." She said with a smile.

 She thought she was bragging, but she had every right to; she had been chasing after this her entire life.

 The man smiled, making Ivy smile a little wider too. "So you're the new recruit, huh? Nice to meet you, I'm Derek Morgan." He introduced himself, making Ivy almost drop her stuff. Of course she had heard of Derek Morgan. Who hadn't?

 The specialist on obsessional crimes.

 "It's very nice to meet you, Derek." Ivy offered him another friendly smile, since she was holding a pretty heavy box in her arms. "I take it you're meeting Hotch today." He laughed a little at Ivy's worried expression.

 "Yup." She nodded, her polite smile never faltering. "He's not as scary as he seems. He likes to play it tough, but he's very nice." Derek said as the two walked out of the elevators and into the bullpen.

"Good luck and welcome to the team, agent." Derek said with a small smile as he walked to his desk, leaving Ivy lost.

 "Staircase, first door to your right." A girly voice called from next to her, making her head snap towards the blonde woman next to her. Finally a familiar face.

 "Hi JJ." Ivy smiled, wrapping her free arm around the girls waist, as she hugged Ivy back with a similar smile. "Hi honey. Let me take you to Hotch, he's been quite stressed as well." JJ said with a laugh, leading Ivy to their boss's office.

 She knocked on the door and waited for the green light, so they could walk inside. When they did get the green light, JJ opened the door, Ivy standing behind her like a lost child.

 "Hey, Hotch. Look who's here." JJ said, making the man look up from his papers, a subtle scowl on his face. The scowl disappeared when his eyes landed on the terrified girl behind JJ.

 Jesus Christ, man up Ivy. You're a full blown FBI agent, for fuck's sake.

 "You must be agent Monroe." Said Hotch, as he got up from his chair, stretching his hand out to Ivy, who gladly gave him a handshake with a smile.

 "It's very nice to meet you, sir." She said, using both hands to hold her box again. JJ had left the two be, shutting the door behind her as well. Hotch motioned for Ivy to sit, which she did after putting her box next to her feet.

 "Strauss told me all about you and your achievements and I have to admit; I'm surprised. In the best way, of course." Hotch said looking down at some files and then back up at Ivy.

 He's stressed.

 The files on his desk had nothing to do with Ivy and she knew it. He looked down because of the awkwardness in the room, which didn't take a profiler to notice.

 "Thank you, sir. I'm very honoured to be here." She said, a small smile on her face as well. Derek told her Hotch looked - and she quotes - 'scary' but to her he seemed just fine. Maybe a little intimidating, but that's about it.

 After a very in depth talk about the job and some of Ivy's accomplishments, Ivy was cleared to go set up. With a polite handshake, she picked up her box and started heading out, when Hotch's voice stopped her.

 "Oh and please; call me Hotch. We're collegues now."

 Ivy smiled and nodded, mumbling a soft 'bye' as she shut the door behind herself. She made her way down to the bullpen and found the desk Hotch had told her about, placing her box on it and sighing. She took a moment to look around, smiling to herself.

 "Meeting with the boss went well?" Derek's voice rang out of nowhere, making Ivy slightly jump. "You're jumpy for an FBI agent." He joked, making Ivy laugh. "I'm not gonna fight that." She chuckled, staring to set up on her desk.

 "Need any help?" Derek offered and before a woman scoffed with a laugh, "Let the poor girl set up her stuff before you start flirting." A woman with raven black hair said, laughing a little.

 Damn, why's everyone so fine in here?

 "Hey, I wasn't flirting! I was just... offering a helping hand to the newbie." Derek defended himself, making the woman laugh again as she shook her head. "Don't mind him, he's a flirt but a really nice guy. Hi, I'm Emily Prentiss." Emily stretched a hand out to Ivy.

 Ivy gladly shook her hand while politely smiling at her. "Nice to meet you, Emily, I'm Ivy." She said, making Emily smile as well.

 "Very pretty name." Emily chuckled, making Ivy's cheeks turn a dusty pink. "Thank you." Ivy said with a smile, staring to set up her stuff on her desk.

 Derek was sat in his spinny chair while Emily was standing, both watching the younger agent set up her office. "Do you need anything?" Ivy laughed awkwardly, as the two agents basically ogled at her. "Sorry, you just look so much like JJ..." Derek said, sounding as confused as he looked.

 "We're second cousins." Ivy laughed, stopping her movements so she could look at the two with an amused smile. "Oh my God! You're the Ivy she talks about!" Emily realised, pointing a finger at Ivy, who was horribly trying to hold back her laughter.

 "That's me" She said, motioning to herself.

 "I pictured you a redhead." Emily mumbled, mainly to herself, but Ivy heard and chuckled.

 "It's the name."

 "It's the DC villain."

 "Maybe both."

 "Both." Both women nodded, a similar grin on their faces.

 Derek just sat confused, watching the two women talk as if they had known each other for ages. "I'm very confused." He commented, mumbling to himself, "You look confused." Emily pointed out as Derek scoffed jokingly.

 "I do not." He defended himself.

 "Why's Derek confused?" A tall, scrawny boy asked as he walked by, sitting across Ivy's desk. God damnit, he's cute too.

 "Oh fuck you."

 Ivy could only laugh at the sibling-like interaction between Emily, Derek and the boy - who seemed awfully young to be witnessing such horrors the BAU saw daily. "Because; Spencer, this is Ivy. The cousin JJ always talks about." Emily introduced, making Spencer nod with a side smile.

 "JJ talks about you very often. I always pictured you a redhead, though." Spencer said with a chuckle, making Ivy smile. He was indeed very cute.

 "Well, I'm obviously a blonde. But I've been thinking about changing it up a li-"

 "Don't even finish that sentence missy." JJ's voice called out suddenly, making Ivy groan. "Why do you always spawn so randomly? Does the universe put money in the slot or something?" Ivy mumbled, making Derek laugh subtly.

 "Ivy, you remember how it went last time you tried to dye your hair." JJ laughed, sitting on her cousin's desk with a smile eerily identical to Ivy's, who just smiled softly and looked down to her feet.

 "How'd it go?" Emily asked with a curious smile.

 "Miss Monroe here had greenish hair for like a month." Ivy shot her cousin a glare, trying to hold back her own laughter. Eventually she gave in and started laughing as well, shaking her head a little.

 "Yeah okay, it was a disaster. Something went wrong with the dye and I ended up with green hair." Ivy explained, everyone laughing at the mental picture of their new friend with green hair.

 Ivy continued setting up her desk while chatting with the rest of the team, getting to know them better. Ny the end of their shifts, they had done their work and even tried to help Ivy but she wouldn't let them.

 "Go home, Emily." Ivy said with a laugh as Emily sighed in defeat. "Fine. But text me when you get home." The raven haired woman said, patting Ivy's shoulder as a goodbye gesture.

 It was nine when Emily left, leaving Hotch and Ivy alone.

 Two hours later, Hotch exited his office, seeking some caffeine to keep him up for the ridiculous amount of paperwork he had for some reason, when he spotted his new agent. "She's still here?" He mumbled to himself, surprised that Ivy was there.

 He shrugged it off and made his way to the coffee machiene, deciding to leave the girl be for now. That was all out the window when he saw the exhaustion in her face when she lifted her head from her paperwork to sip her own coffee.

 So he decided to be a good boos and check on her.

 "Hey, Monroe. You alright?" He asked, reaching her desk.

 Ivy looked up from her files and smiled at Hotch, nodding her head. "Yeah, I just want to get these out of the way so I have less for tomorrow." She said with a soft smile, making Hotch smile too.

 She's interesting.

 "What are you still doing here?" Ivy asked back, as Hotch sighed and rubbed his eyes, "Chief duties." He said with a faint smile, making Ivy giggle. "It's eleven at night." Ivy pointed out, a soft smile on her face.

 "Your point?"

 "It's too late to work."

 "You're working too."

 "Not for long." Ivy smirked, tapping her pen shut and putting her hair up, "I'm officially done with these, plus if I stay an other minute awake I actually think I'll go crazy." She chuckled, taking the thick stack of files in her arms.

 "I'll take them to my office, don't worry about it; go home." Hotch said, putting the full coffee mug down on Ivy's desk as he reached for the papers. "It's fine, Hotch, honestly." Ivy tried to stop him, but he insisted.

 "You look exhausted, Monroe. Leave those to me and go rest." Ivy gave up and sighed with a smile, "Fine." She passed the files over to Hotch, who easily held them up with one hand while Ivy needed both.

 Damn.

 Ivy sighed and put her coat on, placing her bag over her shoulder. She finished off her coffee and threw away the papercup, while making sure she got everything she needed. Once she gathered the last of her things, she walked to the doors about to leave when a voice called out to her.

 "Goodnight Monroe." Hotch's voice called out, not even looking at her as he opened the door to his office.

 "Goodnight Hotch." Ivy chuckled, shaking her head as she walked to the elevators, calling it a day finally.

[tortillamastersblog]

⊱Drawing Stars Around Your Scars | Oliver Queen⊰

Pairing: Oliver Queen x reader

Warnings: injuries and mentions of blood

Summary: Oliver would do anything to regain your trust. . .

________________________________________________

“Good Night, Doctor Y/L/N.” Ella, one of the nurses at the nurses’ station waves me goodbye and I return the gesture with a tired smile.

I just got out of an eight hour surgery and I can’t wait to get home. I make my way through the busy halls of the hospital and down to the parking garage without changing out of my scrubs.

It’s freezing outside and when my fingers curl around the cold leather of my steering wheel I shiver.

I pull out of the underground parking garage and make my way home.

The streets of Starling City are busy, even at this time of day, which is why it doesn’t take long for me to be stuck in traffic.

I sigh and turn on the radio, humming along to the Christmas songs that are playing before my phone rings.

I glance at it and smile, answering the call on my car’s hands-free. “Speedy, what are you doing up this late? It’s a school night.” I tease, but my smile quickly vanishes and turns into a concerned frown when I hear the girl crying softly on the other end of the line.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Are you still at work?” she say quietly.

“No, I’m not. Are you okay? What’s going on?” I ask, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, worried.

When Oliver vanished at sea five years ago, Thea and I grew extremely close. While she grieved over her brother, I grieved over my best friend and partner in crime.

We grew so close in fact that she’s like a baby sister to me now and whenever she’s in trouble, or feeling down, I’m usually the one she calls since Moira and Walter are both emotionally unavailable.

Thea doesn’t answer right away, so I promt her softly. “Speedy? You still there?”

“I—Yeah, I’m still here. It’s just. . . Ollie. He not home, again! And he’s acting like a complete stranger. I don’t even recognize him anymore it’s just—“ she breaks down in tears and I make a u-turn the next chance I get, heading toward the Queen’s manor outside the city.

This isn’t the first time she’s broken down over Oliver’s return and how different he is compared to five years ago.

“C-Can you come over?” she hiccups and I tell her that I’m already on my way.

The traffic thins out once I’m out of the city, staying on the phone with Thea the entire time until I pull up outside of her family’s manor.

The security guard at the gate greets me with a polite smile and let’s me in without hesitation.

I get out of the car, the gravel beneath my feet crunching as I walk up to the front door, which swings open before I get the change to ring the doorbell.

Thea basically jumps on me, pulling me into a hug, and cries into my shoulder.

I hold her tight and waddle us inside, away from the cold and let the door close behind us with a gentle click.

“Thank you for coming,” Thea whispers, her grip around my shoulders not letting up.

“Of course. Anything for you, Speedy,” I reply just as quietly, rubbing my hands over her back.

We stay like that for a few minutes, enjoying each other’s company before she pulls back, her eyes roaming over my outfit.

“You just got off work, didn’t you?” she asks, guilt scrunching up her face. “You must be so tired. I’m sorry for making you come here.”

I wave her off and squeeze her shoulders. “Hey, no. Don’t be sorry. I am tired, yes, but you’re more important than sleep,” I joke softly which earns me a small smile.

Thea sighs and uses the sleeve of her sweatshirt to wipe away the remainder of her tears. Then, she eyes me hopefully before asking, “Have you had dinner yet?”

I shake my head and she pulls out her phone, waving it around for emphasis.

“Do you want to order some takeout then and watch a movie with me?”

Tomorrow is my day off, so I don’t mind staying with her, especially because she’s home alone and it seems like she could use some company right now.

“Sure,” I agree easily, “but I need a shower and some comfy clothes.”

Thea nods adamantly and pulls me upstairs and into her room.

“Use whatever you like in there. You know the drill,” she says gesturing at her en-suite bathroom. “I’ll go and find some clothes for you.”

I thank her and smile, going into the bathroom and stripping out of my scrubs before stepping into the enormous shower.

A knock on the door lets me know that Thea’s found me some clothes and she cracks it open just enough to reach inside, placing some clothes on the floor before closing the door again.

I finish quickly, shutting off the water before drying off and putting on the fresh clothes.

I frown when I pull on the pair of gray sweatpants, figuring that they can’t be Thea’s because she’s a head shorter than me and the sweatpants are oversized, even on me.

The same goes for the sweatshirt and when I pull it on and a familiar cologne surrounds wafts around me, I know why.

These are Oliver’s clothes.

I shiver involuntarily and can’t help but bury my nose in the fabric of the sweater, taking a deep breath.

I’ve missed this smell, I’ve missed Oliver, but I haven’t really admitted that to anyone since he came back.

We’ve always been best friends, but since we were teenagers I knew that my feelings for him weren’t solely platonic.

I never acted on them though because I knew we could never work. While he was a millionaire playboy, I was a nerd, passing all my classes in school with flying colors and getting into med school before even turning twenty.

I also hated how he hooked up with anyone he had a chance with, and I swore to myself a long time ago that I’d never let myself be just another one of his conquests.

Now though, things have changed. Oliver has changed and I have, too. We’re both grown up and it seems like he’s left behind his playboy lifestyle.

Every time I see him nowadays, he’s calm, well spoken, and a true gentleman. He no longer drinks or takes drugs, and I’ve caught him shamelessly staring at me quite a few times now.

It’s something he didn’t used to do, and it gets my hopes up that, maybe, he secretly feels the same way about me as I do about him, but then he goes and blows me off time and time again, without answering any of my texts or calls.

It’s gotten to the point where I don’t even agree to hanging out with him any more because I know he’ll leave me hanging anyway, but still, every time he asks me to dinner, or offers to buy some coffee my heart flutters and I feel my cheeks grow warm.

“So, what do you want to watch?” Thea asks when I exit the bedroom, throwing myself on the bed next to her.

“I don’t care,” I say honestly, checking my phone before leaning back against the headboard.

“Okayyy.” Thea hums in though. She scrolls through some movies on her TV before settling on Elf.

The opening credits start rolling and I get even more comfortable, patting Thea’s head playfully when she rests it on my shoulder.

Fifteen minutes into the movie, our food gets delivered and we eat on the bed in silence, continuing to watch the movie.

Thea eventually falls asleep and I sigh, turning off the TV.

I get off the bed and drape the comforter over her, chuckling softly when she frowns in her sleep.

“Nighty night, Speedy,” I whisper before leaving her room.

I make my way down the dark hallway toward the grand staircase, ready to go home, but the sound of breaking ceramic makes me stop in my tracks.

I squint in the darkness, straining to hear where it came from before deciding to investigate.

The sound most likely came from Oliver’s room and because he’s not supposed to be home, I’m curious to see what caused the slight commotion.

Maybe the Queens got a cat I don’t know about?

I highly doubt that, but then again, Thea’s done some crazy things over the last couple of years, lashing out every chance she got to mask her grief.

I slowly open the door to Oliver’s room and peek inside, freezing when I see a hunched over figure by one of the bedside tables.

They’re picking up what looks like shards of a vase, stacking them neatly before getting back to their feet.

A quiet grunt escapes them and once they’re upright with their back turned toward me, I recognize them, or should I say him?

It’s Oliver in his vigilante suit and when I take a closer look I notice he’s clutching at his side with one of his hands.

He’s hurt.

I turn on the light with an annoyed sigh and put my hand on my hip, watching him spin around with a dagger in his hand.

“What are you doing here?” he asks in his fake deep and gravelly voice and I just raise a challenging eyebrow in return.

“Drop the act, Ollie,” I say calmly, watching with mild amusement as his eyes widened.

“I— What are you—?” he stammers before his shoulders curl forward and he whispers, “How did you know?”

He takes off his hood and even though I know it’s him underneath, I still feel a chill run down my spine when his exhausted eyes meet mine.

I’ve known he’s the Green Arrow ever since he returned to Starling City. I mean, how could I not know?

All the sneaking around? His sudden interest in his family’s business? The constant bruises and cuts on his face?

And let’s not forget how he physically changed over the last five years. Where he used to be a thin, athletic kid he’s now a broad-shouldered hunk of a man and I’d be lying if I said it makes him less attractive.

“C’mon, Ollie,” I scoff, crossing the room to look at the injury on his side. “You do know who you’re talking to right now, don’t you?”

Oliver hangs his head and stays silent, allowing me to pull up his bloody clothes to get a better look at his side.

The wound isn’t too deep, but it will need stitches and judging by its frayed edges I’m guessing it’s a graze from a bullet.

“Do you have any medical supplies?” I ask. I have a small emergency kit in my car, but I’m too lazy to get it right now.

Luckily, Oliver nods and points at the bedside table where he was just crouching, picking up the shards of the shattered vase.

“Take off your shirt and lay on the bed,” I command without looking at him. In times like this, my doctor-ly instincts kick in and I don’t care who my patient is. All I’m focusing on is getting the wound cleaned and stitched up.

Oliver does as I say and once I’ve gotten everything I need from the bedside table, I turn to him, sucking in a breath when my eyes land on his exposed upper body.

It’s covered in scars and a tattoo I didn’t know he had and I can only imagine what he went through to look like this.

Thea did say that over twenty percent of his body was covered in scar tissue, but actually seeing it up close makes my stomach twist.

Watching me with a knowing look, Oliver gently wraps his fingers around one of my wrists which brings me back to reality.

He smiles reassuringly, silently telling me not to worry about what’s happened and I return the smile albeit a little weakly.

I take a deep breath and square my shoulders, getting to work on cleaning the wound and the area around it.

It continues to leak blood, no matter how many times I wipe at it and after a while I just give up, getting right to stitching it up.

“This might hurt,” I whisper as I press the needle against Oliver’s skin, but he not so much as twitches when the thin metal pierces his skin.

I work in silence, focusing on the work at hand before Oliver’s head rolls to the side to look at me directly as he says, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

I hum, not taking my eyes off my hands and brush off his words, thinking he’s referring to right now, making me stitch him up and care for him, but then he continues.

“I’m sorry for blowing you off so many times over the last couple of weeks,” he says quietly. “And I’m sorry for cutting you out of my life right before getting on the Gambit with my dad.”

I clench my jaw and finish the last stitch. I stare at my hands and take a deep breath.

I tried to forget about that.

The days before getting onto that cursed yacht with his father, I called Oliver out on his hypocritical behavior and his playboy attitude which lead to him basically ending our friendship.

I cried for days, missing several important college classes, but then the news of the Queen’s Gambit sinking sobered me up and I forgot all about our falling out.

I cried some more then, this time for a different reason, but as time went on I grew numb to it and put all my energy into med school.

“It’s fine. . .” I whisper, moving to get back to work, but Oliver grabs my hand, making me look at him.

“No,” he says with furrowed eyebrows. “I was such an asshole and you were right. You’re always right and I’m really sorry it took me this long to apologize .”

I chuckle weakly, not liking the sudden tension between us and avert my eyes. “I’m not always right,” I argue,

Oliver squeezes my hand, getting me to look at him again. “Well, maybe not. . .” he says with a small smile. “But you were right about what you said and— again— I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to admit it. I felt backed into a corner when you called me out on my shit and I didn’t know what else to do other than lashing out at you.”

“Ollie—“ I try to stop him, but he cuts me off by squeezing my hand again and continuing.

“Y/N. I’ve been through. . . a lot. . . over the last five years, but I’ve also had a lot of time to think and—“he bites the inside of his cheek and scratches at his eyebrow nervously— “and you’re honestly the only constant in my life. The thought of you and sometime’s even Thea kept me going when I felt like giving up and I swore to myself that if I ever got the chance to, I’d make things right between us. . . I’d do what I should have done a long time ago.”

I gulp and try not to pull my hand from his. “What are you talking about, Ollie?”

He can’t be saying what I think he’s saying, can he?

Oliver sits up, grimacing slightly when the stitches on his waist strain against the movement, and swings his legs over the edge of the bed so he’s sitting next to me.

The heat radiating off his body makes me shiver involuntarily and when he places my hand against the scar on his chest I gasp softly.

“I don’t want to spend another day worrying about what ifs and maybes, so I’m asking you now, Y/N, would you do me the honor of going to dinner with me? As in like, a date, you know?” He stumbles a bit over the end of his sentence but his question takes my breath away nonetheless.

My brows furrow and I feel my heart clench at the conflicting feelings running through me at the moment.

“I don’t— I don’t know,” I admit.

Even though this is all I’ve been hoping for since we were kids, I can’t help but have doubts about his intentions.

What if he hasn’t changed as much as I think he has? What if he’s still a narcissistic playboy?

I don’t know if I could stand being used by him, so I shake my head and move to back away.

Seeing the doubt on my face, Oliver’s eyes soften and his hold on my hand tightens ever so slightly.

“Please, Y/N this is not— I’m not. . .” He trails off, biting his lip in thought.

Then instead of trying to explain himself, he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes briefly.

“This scar,” he says quietly, pressing my hand against the uneven patch of skin on his chest for emphasis, “is from a guy named Kovar. He. . . tried to stop me from leaving Lian Yu and pressed the hot tip of his gun against my skin, right here.”

My eyes widen, not only because no one knew he wasn’t alone on that island, but also because he’s actually telling me what happened.

Since he came back, he’s barely spoken of his time on Lian Yu and the fact that he’s willing to open up about what happened makes me trust his intentions.

He moves my hand down his chest, against a long, gnarly looking scar that follows the downward slope of his ribcage right over his stomach.

“This one is from when I first stranded on the island. There was this guy, William, or Billy, Winter—“

“No, Ollie, stop.” I cut him off, shaking my head. “You don’t have to tell me any of this just to prove yourself to me.”

It’s clear he’s struggling to put into words what happened if his overly tense muscles are anything to go by and I don’t want him to feel like he’s forced to share his trauma in order to get me to trust him again.

“But I want you to know,” he argues weakly, letting go of my hand.

I shake my head and move closer, tracing my fingers along the edge of the scar.

It makes Olive twitch slightly and I smile at the effect I have on him.

“And you can,” I assure him, skimming my fingers over his warm skin before brushing over the scar on his hip that looks suspiciously like a shark bite.

What the hell happened to him on that island. . .

“Just not now. Not all at once and not when you’re so obviously not ready to talk about it yet,” I continue, mesmerized by the way his muscles twitch beneath my touch.

I continue exploring his skin, raising an eyebrow at the tattoo on his chest before skipping over it and touching the scar on his shoulder.

They all look like they never healed properly and I get a chill, thinking about the possible infections that could have killed him, but then my train of thought is suddenly silenced when Oliver brushes his lips against my own.

Not realizing how close I’ve gotten while inspecting every little detail about him, I pull back with a surprised squeak and place a hand on his chest to stop him from closing the distance between us again.

“Shit,” he whispers, bringing a hand to his lips. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—“

“It’s okay,” I say with a soft chuckle. I take his hand away from his mouth and lace our fingers together. “Just. . . Take me to dinner first.”

Oliver’s cheeks turn red, a rare sight, and I squeeze his hand before straining to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Right. Sorry.” He meets my eyes shyly and I smile at him when he tries to suppress a yawn.

It makes me yawn as well and Oliver gets to his feet. He kisses my knuckles and lets go of my hand.

“I need a shower,” he explains before nervously scratching at his eyebrow again. “Will you still be here when I get out?”

I melt at how vulnerable he sounds and nod, slipping under the covers of his bed. “Only if you don’t take too long.”

Oliver’s eyes widen comically and he springs into action, gathering some clothes before rushing into the bathroom.

________________________________________________

God, the chokehold this man’s got me in. . .

[whimsicalmeerkat]

First & Last Lines

I did this a million years ago. I just got reminded of it and thought it would be fun to do again. Basically, post the first and last lines of the last 10 fics you posted. WIPs are welcome. Not going with any sort of strict rules, because that’s just not how I roll. Anyway, here goes!

1. hope for the future, teen wolf, derek hale/peter hale

First: As Derek flew back from his uncle's punch, he wondered just how he hadn't realized sooner that Peter was the alpha—that he was his alpha.

Last: He couldn't say he'd ever be be content with the past or that he was happy in the present, but for the first time in years he had hope for the future, and maybe that would be enough.

2. 3 Sentence Ficathon 2024: Teen Wolf, multiple pairings

First: Derek leans his head back so he can stare at the star-studded tree canopy overhead and thinks, not for the first time, that he will never get tired of seeing Stiles’ magic.

Last: “Easy for you and Derek to say—you were both born like this and you took away my chance to get out of this life,” Scott rages back, the arrows hitting Stiles in his soft parts just like they have every time he’s hurled them over the years since Stiles got him turned into a werewolf.

3. 3 Sentence Ficathon 2024: Chosen One, macy blake’s chosen one universe, multiple pairings

First: “I just feels it lacks a certain gravitas,” Eduard says, tugging at the hem of the denim jacket he considers so ugly he wonders if some of his mates are pulling a prank on him until he turns around and sees all eight of them staring at him in a distinctly horny fashion.

Last: “Fucking lions—you’re lucky I love you.”

4. with lightning in his hands, teen wolf, derek hale/peter hale/stiles stilinski

First: Stiles stares at the ruins of the Hale house and reflects that he perhaps should have taken Deaton more seriously when he told him starting to practice magic would change how he saw the world.

Last: All they have to do is wait for him to come.

5. time travel, teen wolf, derek hale/laura hale

First: Derek bursts through the door of his little apartment in New York City, yelling for his sister.

Last: "It all started in seven days from now for you and five years ago for me."

6. telepathy, black jewels, daemon sadi/lucivar yaslana

First: She’s not trustworthy.

Last: They exited the room without opposition, knowing their point was made and would not be forgotten.

7. dusk, the witcher, emhry var emreis/geralt of rivia

First: Geralt stands on the balcony outside of Emhyr’s rooms and watches the day fade into dusk

Last: Geralt could get used to having a family.

8. Trading Up, teen wolf, derek hale/stiles stilinski

First: Stiles and his (maybe?) girlfriend are walking down Main Street after dinner, holding hands and looking in the shop windows

Last: “Damnit, I need to see if I have to do actual work. While I’m checking my email, you should try to guess why Lydia didn’t turn into a werewolf. You’ll never get it, but it will entertain you while you wait,” Stiles tells Derek, then turns his attention to his laptop.

9. candy, macy blake’s chosen one universe, victor eastaughffe/orsen riggs & gus

First: “Bear!” Gus shrieks from his seat at the table.

Last: “You may have gummy bears after dinner, Gus.”

10. drift, perilous courts by tavia lark, julien sandry/whisper

First: Julien watches Whisper in the sunlight.

Last: “We’ll make sure we win.”

Tags: @dear-massacre @jammerific @shadow-wasser @thotpuppy @lavender-lotion @mrs-steve-harrington @bad-at-names-and-faces @definitively-different-drivel

[runningfrom2am]

achilles heel - III: getting a head start

summary:

Grace is the very opposite of her brother in every way. when she finally moves onto campus at UNC Chapel Hill, she feels like she gets to be her own person, make her own friends, and hopefully start a promising career in the museum industry, and maybe, one day, get married to her high school sweetheart and live the American dream for herself. Rafe Cameron however, upon their very first meeting, throws a wrench in her very perfect plan.

tags/warnings:

rafe cameron x fem!oc, rafe is giving very much homewrecker, fanon!rafe (kinda), college!au, friends to lovers, slow-burn (maybe?), minimal oc description, drug and alcohol use, mostly unedited, (these tags are not exhaustive, lmk if i should add anything!)

wc: 1.9k

my master list

series masterlist

requests

January 6th, 2019

Grace pulled herself out of bed three hours before her eight am class the next morning, giving herself ample time to have a shower and get ready to go eat breakfast with her brother before class. Today was a bit of a treat, because Nate had an eight-thirty class in the building next to hers, and had the chance to eat with her and walk her to class.

She knocked on his dorm door when she was all ready, holding onto her coffee mug and stepping back a little bit in anticipation of the door opening. It's only a few moments before it does, her boyfriend smiling down at her. "Good morning, my love." Nate smiles, leaning down to kiss her forehead as he closes the door behind him.

"Morning!" Grace smiles, admiring how his dark eyes compliment his messy brown hair.

"What's on the menu today?" Nate asks as they make their way to the elevator, hand placed low on her back.

"The usual." Grace shrugs, taking a sip of her coffee while they wait for the elevator.

They make their way down to the caf, hand in hand most of the time as Nate goes on and on about his classes, hardly letting Grace get a word in until Ben joins them at their table, internally cursing to himself over having to sit across from this guy that he's never liked.

"Hey, Ben, how are you, buddy?" Nate asks as her brother sits down.

"Fine," Ben replies, clearly already bored as he takes a bite of his cereal.

"What class do you have this morning? You never get up this early." Nate jokes.

"Uh, history 120? I'm in Grace's class. Figured you'd know that." Ben grumbles, looking down at his phone.

"Oh! Right. Yes." Nate nods, looking over at his girlfriend. "How's that one going?"

"It's good! We're talking about some really interesting stuff already, we've got this one book to read and I'm already on-" Grace starts explaining excitedly, reaching into her bag under the table to grab it out to show him.

"Oh, Ben, I heard engineering got invited to your frat's opener this weekend. I think it'll be fun." Nate interrupts her, and Ben freezes as he looks between the two of them. Grace looks disappointed, but like she wasn't going to finish anyways. She's used to this, her boyfriend just gets distracted so easily. Most times she finds it cute, but not so much as of late. She always just figured it was a symptom of his high IQ, which he does love to talk about as well. It drives Ben up the wall, and it always has.

"Dude- she was talking to you." Ben says, pointing his spoon at his sister. "But yeah, fuck it. I guess it'll be fun." He shakes his head as he speaks, hunched over with his elbows on the table as he continues to eat.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, Love. Continue." Nate smiles at her and watches her eyes light up again, holding the book out to him and he takes it, quickly skimming through it.

"So, yeah I'm already about halfway through it. It's incredibly fascinating, being able to look into one person's life on such a deep and analytical level when their world was so far removed from how we live today." Grace grins, and Ben rolls his eyes. Not because he's upset with her, but because he's frustrated that she doesn't see that this guy is a dick to her.

"Oh, yeah. I read this in high school. It's quite interesting." Nate agrees, handing the book back to her. "They're teaching this in university? Seems a little juvenile."

"Well, it is a first-year course." Grace shrugs, putting the book back in her bag. Ben is practically seething at this point. His sister is so smart- it frustrates him to no end that she doesn't, at least noticeably, understand that her boyfriend is talking down to her.

"Let's go, we're gonna be late," Ben grumbles, chugging the rest of his milk out of the bowl and standing up.

Nate looks at his watch, furrowing his brow. "Ben, we have like half an hour before your class starts and it's only a twelve-minute walk away." He says but Ben is already walking off to put his dirty bowl away.

"I'll just grab a refill on my coffee and we'll go." Grace smiles at him, standing up and kissing the side of his head. "I'll be right back."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

They make their way to class, with Grace struggling to keep up with the two taller boys who just tend to walk a lot faster. She does notice, though, that Ben is moving quicker than normal.

"This is us," Grace says, stopping in front of the door while Ben just walks straight in, sitting in the back row that is almost empty since they still have fifteen minutes before class starts. He blocks off the two seats next to him with his bag and his coat, waiting for you to come in and for Rafe to show up.

It's a few minutes of Grace and Nate chatting in the hallway before Rafe shows up, brushing past them and saying a quick 'hi' to Grace before joining her brother in the back row.

"Morning." Rafe yawns, handing Ben his coat and sitting in the now empty seat.

"Morning," Ben mumbles back. "How'd you sleep? You sound tired."

"Alright." Rafe shrugs in response. "I was up late doing the readings." He explains, making his friend raise an eyebrow at him.

"You did those?"

"Well, yeah. I figured I'd at least try to keep up with the workload this semester." Rafe replies, digging his laptop and books out of his bag.

"Did you hear we invited the engineering guys to our party?" Ben asks, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

Rafe adjusts in his seat and shakes his head. "No, uh, I didn't know that." He clears his throat, grabs his water bottle, and quickly takes a sip.

"Yeah. Nate said he's coming. Which fucking sucks." Ben whispers, leaning closer so Grace or her boyfriend can't hear from the hall.

"Why?" Rafe asks. "I mean, I know you don't love that guy but I don't know shit about him so fill me in."

"He's fine." Ben sighs, shaking his head and glancing back towards the hallway. "He's just such a dick. I don't even think Grace can see it because he's like, brainwashed her into thinking he's a gift from God or some shit. It's annoying. He is like, only physically capable of talking and thinking about himself. It's actually impressive."

"Sounds like an asshole." Rafe looks back at the door as well, seeing Nate kiss Grace goodbye as she slips in the door. ‘Maybe he should ask Ben for her number after all, if he hates her boyfriend so much’ Rafe thinks to himself as she walks up, and he can’t help but admire the way her black jeans are hugging her thighs just right and her orange sweater drapes over her almost like a blanket. She looks comfortable.

"Hey!" Grace smiles at the two, way too cheery for eight am. Ben quickly moves his books and she sits down on the other side of him.

"Hey, Grace." Rafe smiles at her. "Was that Nate?" He asks, sharing a brief look with Ben as she pulls everything out of her bag and places her coffee on the desk.

"Yeah, he's got a class in E building at eight-thirty." She explains.

"He seems cool." Rafe says, nudging his friend who just rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, he's sweet." Grace agrees, nodding. "We've been together for... almost four years now. He's just my person, you know?"

He tries not to laugh as Ben rolls his eyes pretty much into the back of his head, deciding not to say anything. "That's crazy, that's a long time."

"Mhm." Grace nods, looking pleased with herself.

"So, he's coming to our party this weekend, hey?" Rafe asks.

"Yeah, he mentioned it." Grace says, turning to lock eyes with her brother. "You be nice to him, by the way! And I'll find out if you're not."

Ben raises his hands defensively. "When am I not nice to him?"

"You're not coming?" Rafe asks before she gets the chance to berate her brother about it anymore.

"No, no. Frat parties aren't really my thing, believe it or not." Grace says, smiling at him, at this point forgetting about lecturing Ben. "Besides, I've got way too much homework and stuff to do. Oh! Speaking of which, Rafe, did you end up doing the readings?" She asks, wanting to move on and not face any weird pause in the conversation.

"Uh, yeah, I did them." Rafe nods, avoiding Ben's eyes as he looks quickly between them, a confused look plastered over his face.

"I assume it went well since you didn't text me?" Grace smiles. "It wasn't anything complicated luckily, they tend to keep it pretty easy for the first couple weeks."

"Well, actually, I would have, but I didn't end up getting your number." He replies, shrugging.

"Oh, well, here, give me your phone." She holds her hand out, gesturing for him to pass it over.

Rafe opens his phone and opens a new contact, then passes the phone over.

Grace quickly types in her information, handing it back to him. "There. You're all set now."

"You gonna tutor his dumb ass or something? Good luck." Ben scoffs, shaking his head.

"At least he plans on doing the readings himself. You're the one who just asks me to relay everything for you."

"Yeah. At least I'm trying." Rafe laughs, shoving his friend's shoulder.

"Yeah, whatever man." Ben rolls his eyes, leaning into his elbows on the counter.

"Seriously, though, Grace, you should come this weekend," Rafe says, leaning back so he can see her over her brother's hunched shoulders.

"I'll think about it." She relents. "I don't know if Nate will like that, though. I'll talk to him."

"Woah, wait- why wouldn't he?" Rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at her. 

"Because he just worries about me, you know?" Grace says and Ben mouths the words along with her, rolling his eyes again. They're getting a workout in this morning, apparently.

Rafe rolls his eyes as well this time. "Respectfully, that's a load of shit."

Grace laughs as her jaw drops. "What? Why? It's sweet!"

"He doesn't think you'll be safe? At a party where him and your brother will be? Please." Rafe says, smiling at her, his eyes scanning over her shocked face. This is the first time he's seen her smile like that- he could sit and watch that all day. Not in a weird way, though. Definitely not. He just takes note of how pretty she looks when he makes her laugh. "Sounds to me like he doesn't want you there." He shrugs.

"No way," Grace shakes her head. "It's not like that- he actually likes it when I drink. It's just an environment he knows I'm not super comfortable in."

"Oh, he likes when you drink. Gotcha. Honestly, you're not making a strong argument. All boys love drunk girls." Rafe says, laughing as Ben punches his arm. "Which is another good reason you should come; because there's going to be sorority girls there and you'll need to keep an eye on him." 

"He's not going to cheat on me, Rafe. He would never do that. Especially with a drunk sorority girl- gross." Grace scrunched up her nose as she speaks, shaking her head fervently.

"Okay, fine. Just like, don't tell him you're coming! They're almost always packed- you probably won't even see him." Rafe suggests.

"You really want her to come, huh?" Ben chuckles, shaking his head at his friend. 

Rafe raises his hands defensively. "Listen- I'm just a fan of women doing what they want, not what their boyfriends say they can."

"Don't make this a feminist thing. You're so full of shit."

"Am not!"

"Well, we'll see if I get ahead on my homework. Then maybe I'll come." Grace interrupts their childish argument, opening her notebook as their prof pulls up the first of the slides. 

Rafe mentally applauds himself as Ben stares at his sister in shock, who is already getting a head start on writing down every last word on the screen.

taglist: @newbooksmell777, @tahliac11, @slut4drudy, @madelynie, @angelw33dz, @mutual-mendes (as always reply or message me to be added or removed!)

[billowyy]

Please Take Me Home (ao3)

Ed/Izzy/Stede | 1.5k words | Febuwhump day 8: panic

"Dad! My bag!" 

"Oh! Stay right there, I'll get it." 

Ed watches as a man dashes off the train back onto the platform, but just as he turns around after he’s retrieved the bag, the door to their car starts to close. Ed tightens the arm he has around Izzy’s shoulder anxiously. He knows what’s about to happen. 

"Dad!" One of the children says. The doors close right when the man reaches them. 

"Dad! No!" Both of the kids rush to the door, stumbling as the train starts to move. 

"Shit," Izzy says. He's already walking towards the kids and Edward quickly follows. 

Both of them are crying, but the girl, who can’t be older than eight, looks like she’s trying to hold it back. She’s holding her brother’s hand as they watch their dad through the window. He’s quickly gone from view and that’s when the smaller one really lets the tears loose. 

“Alma! We have to go back! Tell them to go back!” 

“Don’t be stupid, Louis.” 

That’s when he and Izzy reach them. 

“Hey, no one’s being stupid,” Ed says as he approaches. Both kids turn around at his presence.

“Stranger danger,” the boy, Louis, says quietly. He’s gripping his sister’s shirt with the hand that’s not holding hers. 

“Yes, stranger danger, but we’re going to get you two back to your dad. I promise.” Ed kneels down on his good knee in front of them. Izzy holds his shoulder steady. 

Alma eyes the two of them warily. She wipes the tears from her eyes and face and must decide that he’s telling the truth because she holds out her hand.

“I’m Alma.” Ed shakes her hand. “This is Louis.” 

“I’m Ed and that’s my partner Izzy,” Ed says, nodding his head back to Izzy, who is shaking Alma’s hand now. “Do you know your dad’s number? I reckon we should tell him you two are okay.” 

“I do!” Louis says. He’s still teary, still gripping onto his sister, but he perks up a bit, ready to contribute and share his knowledge. 

Still on his knee at their level, he pulls out his phone, gets the dad’s number, and shoots off a quick text.

Your kids are fine! My name is Ed. Your kids gave me your number. I'll get off with them at the next stop and wait with them until you get there 👍

“All four of us are going to get off at the next stop and me and Iz will wait with you until your dad gets there. Does that sound okay?”

Alma doesn’t look like she completely believes him, so Ed amends—

“How about you take my phone and call your dad. You can keep it with you until we meet up with him.”

He waits until both kids nod before reaching a hand up so Izzy can help stand. He feels his knee pop as he rises and has to hold onto Izzy and the pole for a moment to get righted again. 

“I want to talk to my daddy,” Louis whines. Alma sticks her hand out, expectant and firm. 

“You good?” Izzy asks, voice low in his ear and hand gripping his elbow. Ed unlocks his phone and hands it to Alma. 

“I’m good, Iz. Should have brought my fucking stick today.” Izzy presses a kiss to his shoulder.

“How about you two, you okay?” 

Alma nods, eyes glued on the phone. “Dad texted back. Says he’s on his way.” She brings it to her ear.

Ed and Izzy leave the kids be while they talk to their dad. Louis gets weepy again as soon as he has the phone and Ed presses his face into Izzy’s hair, keeping his eye on them. They should be pulling up to the station very soon. 

“Reckon we’ll make it back home in time for our show?” Ed asks into Izzy’s hair. 

“We’ll probably miss the beginning. Depends on whether the next train is on time.” The two of them are back to their position from earlier—both with a hand on the pole, Ed’s arm resting on Izzy’s shoulders, and Izzy’s wrapped around Ed’s waist. Izzy rubs his hip and sighs in a way that tells Edward he’s disappointed about their show. It’s a weekly tradition. 

“We’ll watch what we can and find it online later.” Ed squeezes him into his side briefly. 

The train pulls up to the next station and Edward and Izzy let go of each other, shuffling closer to the kids so that they can stay close as they exit. 

“We’re about to get off,” Alma says into the phone. She’s still holding Louis’ hand. “Are you close?” 

Izzy herds them to a miraculously empty bench and Edward gladly takes a seat. His leg is yelling something fierce and he takes the chance to rub at the achiest bits. Alma tells them that their dad is a few minutes away as she passes the phone to Louis. There’s no room on the bench for Izzy, so he stays standing and watches the people around them.

“Is your leg okay?”

“It will be. I’ve got a bad knee and it likes to play up, especially if I’ve been on it for a while.” 

Alma nods, “My stepdad says his wrist is like that when he paints. He has to wear a brace on it sometimes. Is that what’s on your knee?” 

As she was talking, Edward had loosened said knee brace so he could dig his fingers under it. 

“Yup,” he says, voice strained. Alma opens her mouth to say something, but then her eyes shift past Ed and into the crowd. 

“Dad!” Alma stands, arms reaching out.

“Children! Oh!” Both of the kids are quickly wrapped up in arms that belong to the man from earlier. Ed notes that he has the lost backpack from earlier on his back. “Are you alright? Louis? Alma?” 

Ed watches the dad worry over his children and grabs his phone, which had been left on the bench in Louis’ haste to stand. He ends the call and puts it back into his pocket. The dad is, well, quite the dad. Strong arms, pretty hair, pretty face. Definitely a dad he’d like to f—

“You must be Ed!” He holds out his hand and Ed is reminded of the way Alma did the same in their own introductions. 

“I am. That’s my partner Izzy,” he nods his head over to him. Twenty years and it’s still his favorite thing to say. The universe must be thanking him by letting him say it more than once in one day. 

“Oh,” he breathes, eyes going between them. Ed swears he can see his cheeks reddening, more than they already were. “I can’t thank you two enough for helping them.” 

"It was no trouble," Ed assures. Stede's eyes focus on him and Ed notices that they're red and swollen. His heart lurches. 

"I'm Stede, by the way." Stede stands up and swings Louis up on his hip. 

"Stede." 

"Yes," He nods. 

Right, enough staring into this man's eyes. Ed fixes his brace and stands up as well. The ache has gone down some. 

"Thank you, again." Stede is looking at Izzy this time, placing a hand on his forearm. 

Ed watches Izzy's face. Oh. He knows that look. He's feeling the same way about Stede that he is. 

“No worries.” 

The two of them stare at each other, not unlike him and Stede were doing just moments before, until Alma tugs at her dad’s sleeve. Stede startles and turns to look at her. 

“Dad, can we go?” 

“Oh, yes, darling! I’m terribly sorry about all this. Let’s get the two of you home.” 

Ed wraps his arm back around Izzy’s shoulders and watches as Stede gives them both another long look. He seemingly nods to himself before saying goodbye and walking away with his children. 

“Damn,” Izzy says under his breath. 

“Fucking hot, right?” 

“I heard the girl say something about a stepdad. Did you see a ring?” 

“Even if I did, we both saw the way he was looking at us.” 

“We have his number.” Izzy slides his hand up Edward’s back and guides him back to the front of the platform. 

“We do have his number. Worst thing that happens is he says no.” 

Later, when they’re laying in bed and talking about how to ask Stede if he’s interested in seeing them again, a text comes in from his newly made contact. 

Stede (dilf 🥵🥵): Hello! This is Stede. Thank you again, truly, for helping my Alma and Louis. Alma is telling me that she now wants a leather jacket. I’m terribly sorry if I’m being presumptuous, but might you and your partner be interested in accompanying me out to eat? It can be in thanks for your kind deed. 

“Izzy. This man is so fucking formal. What kind of restaurant would he take us to?”

Stede (dilf 🥵🥵): It can also be more than that, if you two are so inclined. 

“Izzy.”

[renon4224]

WIP 44

Chapter One

I stared at the wall, though in this darkness I can’t make out anything, not even where the wall met the floor.

“Sada? Are you awake?” My ‘cellmate’ across the room, asked.

“Not anymore, Morgan.” 

“When do you think we’ll get to go home?” As far as I know, Morgan was seven when she was taken. Her parents never even tried to hide her, they just thought that the government wouldn’t do something so corrupt.

“I don’t know, but it’s late and we have a long day tomorrow. So, can we please go to sleep?”

“Okay.” 

My heart aches for her, she turned ten last week, not that I’d tell her that. At least not yet, she already cries herself to sleep most of the time. My real name is Reihan Wessex, and it is January 5, 2025, marking my eighteenth birthday, and third year at Ravenwood Correctional Facility. This whole thing started three years ago, I was in school and happy. Until my step-mom took me out of school in the middle of the day, which was strange considering that she HATED taking me out of school when I was sick and I didn’t have any pressing appointments, it was the last day of school, June 2, 2022. She told me and my sister that we were gonna drive really far, a ‘road trip’ of sorts, but we, my sister and I, had no notions, or even a slight mention of this trip, Dad was waiting for us and we left. After we had crossed state lines into Idaho, the police stopped us and arrested me and my sister, Aurora was taken into a different car than me, they took her back across state lines, but took me closer to Spokane. My parents were screaming, and I attacked the officers holding me, but they refused to let go, I ended up slamming the car door on someone’s hand and jumping out. I screamed at my parents to get in the car, they did, I jumped in and we made a run for it, chasing the cop that had my sister, but we lost her, and the cops behind us were catching up, I told my parents to turn me in, find my sister and keep her safe, they refused to let me out of the car, but I needed to have them focus on Sis, she needed to be safe. I showed them my walkie-talkie, the one, me and her always took with us when we left anywhere, I turned it on, and called her. It rang and finally picked up, she said nothing, and then all of a sudden, “Interstate 90” that was it. I called again, and she said nothing, but I could hear the officer that took her talking, “Why would she be going to White Garden?” my parents heard and gave each other a knowing look, so I turned off the walkie. They told me that we were gonna go get her, but it didn’t turn out that way. I ended up getting caught, but she got out, she was safe, and that’s the only thing that matters. I shook myself out of the memory and scratched a tally into the backboard of my bed, marking my nine hundred fifty-third day at Ravenwood. 

-Ten hours later-

Think of the most ear-shattering, screeching, loudest noise you can think of, now times that by a hundred, and you’re close to the sound that I’ve woken up to for the past three years. 

“Get up, you lazy freaks.” Another constant reminder of the hellhole I’m stuck in, or as they would have us say, a perfect wake-up since we aren’t allowed to have alarm clocks.

The guard looked around, his eyes scanning the room for somebody to pick on, “Hey you, get going already, you have,” He looked at his watch, “Eight minutes, chop-chop.”

I looked at the girl he had pointed at, she looked like she was gonna pass out, she was one of the newer ones, the shipment from last week. Morgan had tears pouring down her face again, she reminded me of my cousins, they were a little bit younger than her, but they would’ve still been taken. I wonder if that’s why I felt obligated to keep her safe, after all, the similarities ran deep. Right down to the way she would cry if you talked to her too roughly.

“Hey, come here Morgan,” I whispered, my voice low enough the guard couldn’t hear me, while also being clear enough to have Morgan hear me.

“Yeah?” She looked at me with hope, just like every morning.

“Let me help you.” I had finished getting dressed almost immediately after waking up, courtesy of waking at 5:30 a.m. I pushed my reminiscing away and tossed Mory’s clothes on her, shoes were kept with number tags at all exits, they were unnecessary otherwise.

-10 minutes later-

“2504847, line up.” 

I obeyed, keeping my head down, insubordination was met with pain, not always physical, and I wouldn’t be lucky enough to have one of the female guards reprimand me.

“Put your shoes on, hussy.” The older man barked, some of the younger officers laughed, one- ONE girl looked at him in disbelief, like she was so disappointed in him, I shook the thought away, she’s just like the rest of them. After all, this was just baiting and cornering, we couldn’t wear shoes inside and we weren’t allowed to talk to the officers.

“That’s not necessary, Innalt.” A girl, she was a new recruit, stepped between me and Innalt.

“Oh come, let me have a little fun with ‘em, Loa.” He leered at me.

I took a deep breath and motioned for the other girls to follow with the line-up, missing headcount was punishable with a missed meal or being tied outside for a couple of days, with only the bare necessities.

“No, these girls need breakfast so, hurry up with headcount before I take over.” From where I stood, she looked like a savior, but I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, she would turn around and do some stupid degrading thing, like everyone else.

“Fine,” He rattled off the codes for the other nine girls in my cabin, “Happy?”

“Yes.” She smiled and Innalt looked so pissed, it was a glorious moment.

-10 minutes later (With merciless teasing althroughout)-

We all walked into the Mess Hall, imagine your kitchen at home, filled with dirty dishes, mold in the sinks, a fridge that had never been cleaned or turned on, and tons of kids crammed into one room, and then you’re close to the smell and unsanitary grossness of the Mess Hall. 

“Wash your hands and dishes.” Another constant here, more stupid things said over the loudspeakers.

Nonetheless, everyone started cleaning everything they would need for ‘breakfast’, lunch, and ‘dinner’. Breakfast generally consisted of some gross mush the cook made, lunch was whatever the kids got from the garden, and my peers would cook something for the younger kids, but dinner was just the leftover mush warmed up from breakfast. When I first arrived, meals were much better, we had everything we needed, but then the camp became crowded and food shortages resulted, leaving everyone scrambling to try and find food. 

"2504847?" The female guard from earlier, Loa, came up to me. 

I washed my dishes in silence, Loa knew the rules, it was cruel to ask me to disobey them. After Loa figured out I wasn't in the mood for false pleasantries, she took someone else's dishes and started washing them.

"Loa! The little monsters can wash their own shit, get over here!" Innalt yelled, he was the worst of the guards, always targeting the little ones and newcomers. He was the one who everyone was terrified of, him and his naughty punishments. 

"Not now Innalt, I'm showing compassion, something you seem to be incapable of." Loa was able to stick up for herself…a pleasure we are denied.

"Are you trying to get little Miss 2504847 in trouble? Let me help." Innalt was creeping towards me, Loa stopped him, but he pushed her aside.

"You're eighteen this year, aren't you?" He whispered, his hands running the length of my sides, "You're looking pretty full up top there," He rested his chin in the crook of my neck, his hands coming inward and up to where my bra ended.

And for a second, I wondered what it would be like to feel this with someone I actually loved. 

"Innalt. Hands off." Great, another male guard. Innalt released me, but not before he had squeezed my breasts and pushed his nasty little thing into me.

"Oh come on Master Ravenwood, let me have some fun." Innalt joked.

"If you keep 'having some fun' I'll make sure you eat whatever the girls eat for the next fortnight, understood?"

"Sir." Good, be scared of our meals. Be scared of the ways you treat kids.

"Miss 2504847. Follow me." Master Ravenwood called, so I rearranged my clothes into a fashion that didn't scream 'inappropriate touching'.

-In Master Ravenwood's office-

Master Ravenwood looked like a typical black-haired blue-eyed teen, or at least he wasn't much older than me. I looked around the office, no decor except for a painting of what looked like broken glass. I kept my head bowed, if he was anything like the rumors…he could've called me in here to kill me. 

The fear must've been evident in my body language, "Don't fret, I'm not going to hurt you," I could almost hear the yet. I just nodded and he sighed, "Anything you say in here can't be recorded, feel free to speak your mind in here." 

"Innalt should be fed to the pigs." I had the worst mean streak, and I knew exactly what my revenge would be.

He laughed, "I'm afraid I cannot fire Innalt, he's too good at what he does."

"You mean rape, right? Because he is absolutely AWFUL at everything else." 

Ravenwood punched the table, "Hold your tongue, wench. Innalt's methods may be....... irregular," He came to my side of the table, resting his hands on my shoulders, and pinching the skin, "But they work, I've never had a kid escape my facility in his lead."

I shrugged him off, "Yet, you've never had a kid escape yet. And you've also never had a guard die, have you?"

"Ahh, so you are a Code Purple." He seemed triumphant, which confused me.

"Does Code Purple mean I can kill Innalt?" I wasn't brave, or strong, just stubborn and hateful. They put me here, I will make their jobs hell.

"Of course not, it just means we need to find your weakness and play with it." He emphasized 'play' in a way that made me think that 'playing' would be much much worse than Innalt.

"I wish you were dead too, fed to the-" He slapped me in the mouth, and then he shoved me out the door.

"Leave 2504847 in the pigpen, forty-eight hours of that should teach her to hold her tongue and respect the people who care for her." His voice wasn't cruel, just cold and empty.

Two male guards escorted me out, when we reached the exit they allowed me to tie my shoes and when we reached the pen they tried to throw me into the mud, it almost worked, except I turned and flew at one of the guards, a rusty nail in my left hand. 

"None of that, you hear me 2504847?" The other guard stopped me and plucked the nail from my grasp. I snarled in response, they were all pigs. Disgusting little boars.

I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday, but my adrenaline made me forget about it for awhile. I calmed down and I imagined Innalt coming over to 'play' and falling a little too close to the piglets, the mother ripping him to shreds, leaving only his head intact, his baby blues losing all emotion, his blond hair caked with blood, and the pigs feasting on his groin and hands. I could almost hear his screams, almost see how he tried to electrocute the pig with his taser, but he couldn't figure out how to make it work, and he suffered. I kept going over how he didn't die until after the pig had ripped his naughty bits off, the last thing he saw was his precious body parts being eaten by a pig and the girl he failed to rape. 

I had fallen asleep and when I woke, Morgan was trying to throw me a couple carrots while looking as though she was really feeding the pigs. She was attempting to throw the carrots close enough that they wouldn’t get shit on them and I’d be able to grab them before the pigs did, however, she only managed to chuck one at my head and the others were picked up by the piglets. I shooed her away when a guard came to taunt me, it was the stupid girl Loa.

“Your time is almost up, when you leave, you should gather all your belongings and prepare to leave the Ravenwood Correctional Facility.” She was wearing the Corrector Bracelet, which would give off electrical warnings, but guards rarely used them.

“And you should call it by its real name, hell.” I spat, kicking a piece of particularly foul faeces up at her.

She jumped back, the faeces landing on her pristine white combat boots, “Fine, goodbye.” She huffed and walked away.

“That’s what I thought!” I was pissed, even if my time was up soon, I’d have to meet with the shit-head Master again.

Innalt was messing with some girls, they were a bit younger than me, somewhere around fifteen and sixteen. Innalt wasn’t bad when he first came, he had just barely missed the deadline and he had tried to help one girl escape when it failed and she was flogged, he went kinda crazy, he stopped being nice and started touching other girls, but only ones who looked like his ex. Sadly, Morgan and I both looked like her and so did most of the girls in our faction. I couldn’t remember the last time he talked to someone just to talk. Not even the other guards liked him, they only liked that his good work equalled their good pay.

Some nights I wanted to choke out the guards outside my room and get all the girls out, but then I remember that even the best of us could be shot, they’d just leave the shot ones to die. Other nights, I just want to talk to my parents, or my sister, I hope so bitterly that they're all safe, somewhere up in the Yaak, or so far away that they escaped the waves. That’s what we call them now, ‘waves’, the cops and law enforcement went out every three weeks to find everyone between the ages of fifteen to seven for one year. I didn’t know about the waves until the middle of it all when they finally came to my hometown.