#i was so jumpy for the rest of my shift

[ionlyhavetwoeyes]

I'm just letting this out bc it's been bothering me all day and I think I just need to get it out.

(Tw for transphobia and a short mention of suicidal ideation (non explicit))

(Let me know if any other tags/warnings need to be added im really bad about know which ones are there)

Today at work, within an hour of clocking In I get a customer that approaches me. I work in the clothes section of my store, at the moment I was just putting away clothes people didn't want.

The first thing this person says to me is "just so you know, you don't pass. At all."

Context: I am trans masculine. I specifically identify a genderfaun (a subtype of genderfluid) but most the time I just say I'm nonbinary. My work allows us to have pins on our uniform, and while I typically have many, I currently only have two pronoun pins by my name badge. One he/him, one They/them.

I'm thrown off by this statement because I have no idea what the hell they're talking about. I haven't had a stranger approach me about this ever. I notice them glance down at my pins and it clicks. I respond with I know (I'm mostly pretty medical intervention, only on birth control to stop my periods)

They ask me what the point is.

I then proceed, a tad excited because I dont have many people to talk about it with, to say I actually have top surgery next month and will start T soon after that.

My excitement shatters immediately as they tell me that doesn't change anything. That it won't change my waist, or hips, or how slim my shoulders are.

I try explaining that T can actually help with that. I've done alot of research on it. I used to be on the fence about it, that's why it's taken so long for me to start it. They disagree with me, telling me it cannot change the above mentioned.

I am getting uncomfortable. I am uncomfortable with this person looking at my body in such a way that they can identify that. I am weakly holding back from explaining I actually have quite broad shoulders. I weakly shrug in response as I look around for someone to help me. No one is around.

They continue to go on about how they know people who have gotten surgery and/or hormones and it hasn't helped anything. That they think it's just an identity crisis. That it hurts to see tomboys like them butchering themselfs to no avail. That we're trying to be cis men, an ideal that is impossible to achieve.

I am panicking. I am shaking and holding back tears. While they are not acting aggressive, they are talking firmly as if there is no room in their opinion. I'm glancing around the area, clocking every item near by that could potentially harm or even kill me. It is a worrying number. I am wondering how I'm going to be able to get away from this person.

I try explaining that I am not comparing myself to cis men. I am only comparing who I was 5 years ago. I'm much happier now. I do not mention I'm actually nonbinary because I feel this would not help the situation at all.

They paused for a moment, considering that, and then arguing again. My hearing started ringing so I'm not quite sure what all they said after that. I eventually tell them I can understand where they're coming from before finally being able to escape. I quickly put the small amount of returns I had back at the fitting room before going to the farthest area away in my department.

I end up finding one of my friends and working with them for a moment. They're much more upset about it than I am. I'm just grateful I wasn't harmed and trying to stop shaking.

I probably was not as articulate as I could have been. The majority of the time I was legitimately worried I was about to be hatecrimed and no one was around to help me. I wish I was able to explain that being called she/her or a girl actively put me in a depressive episode, borderline suicidal. That being called any other pronouns, being refused to as sir, fill me with such a high that I'm smiling for the next half hour.

That the point of it is being happy with myself.

I could see where they were coming from. That it must be hard to see people you grew up with and thought you connected to change. People you thought were the same as you are not.

But they didnt know me. They didn't know I grew up a tomboy, always missing something. They didn't know that i constantly changed my name as a child. That when I was 12, I prayed to God every night to take my chest away. That I would sit on my bed with a mini knife trying to get myself to do it on my own.

They don't know what I've gone through. And they had no right to try and tell me I'm not really trans. I already know my surgery is going to make me infinitely happier. That starting T will give me a confidence boost I've been waiting for. I already know this and it hasn't even happened yet. I don't need to prove to some else I'm trans enough, or why I'm even trying when I look very fem still. I've long given up on trying to impress people.

I can usually do articulate conversations on these topics, but im usually talking with people I know where I can gauge reactions and know when to stop. I've never had to do this with a stranger where I wasn't sure if they would attack me for disagreeing or not.

I'm debating on telling my managers. They can't do anything about it now, I'm not good at remembering people and the cameras aren't always good, expcially since we were between racks. I just hope they didn't get on any of my other trans coworkers. Most of them are younger than me.

This was a bit long, and might not even be cohesive. Thank you for reading this far if you have. I hope you all stay safe and stay alert in your lives <3

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Spencer reid x nurse!fem reader. They are already dating but she hasn’t met the team or they meet for the first time( whatever u like best). He gets injured while on a local case and she stiches him up while they flirt.

“you need to stop putting yourself in the line of fire.” “well that’s kinda my job.”

sewing the sterile needle as gently as possible through the gash at spencer’s temple, a blue glove pushing bits of his growing curls away. darting your eyes to his for a second to stare into his puppy eyes so you could say, “no it’s not. you’re a consultant mostly and i would like you to keep that big brain intact.”

“well yeah, but when they seem jumpy with the guns that’s usually when i step in.” moving his head a bit and you had to switch from his hair to his chin, not wanting him to mess with the few stitches. “sorry,” apologizing when he noticed.

“i love how brave you are, but please for my sanity, try to do this less. i don’t want to keep stitching my pretty boy together.” finishing your sentence with a cut to the thread then setting the pliers down and taking some bandages to finish the look.

“i’m almost done with my shift so if you want you can stay here. we could get some takeout on the way home and i can be your sexy nurse who brings you back to full strength.” shimming your shoulders and wiggling your brows. it brought a smile and light giggles from spencer, your heart grew two sizes at the sight and sound.

“i’d like nothing more.” his eyes bore into your soul and you couldn’t help as you leaned forward to press a small kiss beside his wound. “to heal you faster.” and then you thought, screw it, and gave your boyfriend a well-deserved kiss. you rested a hand on his shoulder and one of his went to your neck.

“reid are you ready to- oh. i’m sorry, am i interrupting?” you both pulled away, turning at the voice to see two people standing at the threshold. a tall man in a well-pressed suit and a shorter woman dressed in a deep red shirt beside him. they both eyed you, possibly analyzing your face. well this wasn't how you planned to meet spencer's coworkers for the first time.

"hotch, emily. this is my girlfriend." "hi." feeling incredibly awkward after they walked in to see you kissing someone, who technically, was your patient. your boss would have a field day if they heard about this.

[sturnioz]

fratboy!chris has no reason to hang out with girls if there's no fucking involved — but it's a little different with shy!reader.

the subway car is fairly quiet, the faint hum of the train along the tracks the only sound breaking the stillness. a few strangers occupy random seats, each absorbed in their own world — some listen to music through plugged-on earphones and bluetooth headphones, some are busy reading their books, turning their pages softly, and others have surrendered to their tiredness, their eyes closed, heads leaning against the cool metal poles or the windows.

you're sitting on one of the wall seats beside chris, your anxiety bubbling beneath the surface as your teeth gnaw on your bottom lip, a nervous habit. your leg bounces restlessly, tapping against the hard floor as you glance up at the digital clock on the train's schedule, the late hour staring back at you.

now, you don't have a curfew at all — but you've always been mindful of getting home at a reasonable hour to avoid worrying your parents, and with your phone dead and unable to call them about your whereabouts, a wave of unease washes over you at the thought of getting into some sort of trouble.

chris is calm and relaxed beside you, his legs comfortably spread, knee bumping against yours as the train ways. his head rests back on the wall, eyes closed, while he chews on a stick of a lollipop that he devoured minutes ago, the muscles in his jaw twitch with each chew.

spending the entire day together was a little odd. you were originally heading to the city alone (after mustering up the courage when your friends had told you they all had plans) and you had bumped into chris on the way into the station. he was straightforward with his questioning, wondering why someone as shy as you would go to the big city alone, before announcing that he was coming with you.

the two of you spent the day walking the busy streets of the city, going into your favourite little thrift stores — which you felt embarrassed with when chris followed you inside instead of heading to a different store, making small comments under his breath and snorting at the little trinkets he came across. when he had led you towards the large stores, the price tags that made you squirm, you trailed behind like a little puppy, feeling out of place.

and when you went to go eat, that's when time had seemed to go by so quickly. you were enjoying yourself in the markets, eating delicious foods at stalls that left your stomach full — although you definitely made some room when chris brought you to one of his favourite dessert stalls, sharing a chocolate fudge and cherry sundae.

"will you fuckin' stop, kid?" chris grumbles suddenly, interrupting you from your memories of today, and your eyes flit to him. his hand lands firmly on your knee to stop your restless bouncing. "you're pissin' me the fuck off with your thumpin'... like a fuckin' rabbit, jesus christ."

"sorry." you whisper an apology, warmth riding to your cheeks as you try to steady your nerves, but it only spikes when you realise chris' hand remains on your knee.

"you need to relax, a'ight? because you on edge right now is.. well, it's makin' me all fidgety 'n shit. just relax... breathe," he tells you as he shifts, his head rolling to the side to meet your gaze, his eyebrows scrunched. "seriously, kid, what's got you all jumpy? huh?"

"it's late," you murmur quietly, glancing at the digital clock once again.

"late?" chris echoes, the corner of his lips twitching in amusement. "what? don't tell me that you got a curfew or some shit?"

"no, no," you shake your head. "it's just that... i always make it home at a certain time so my parents don't have to worry about me, and not only did i go into the city today, but my phone is dead too. i'm really worried that they've been trying to call me and—"

"okay, okay, okay," chris interrupts your rambling, a huff escaping his lips as he shifts his hips, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. "you know your parents' number, yeah? jus' call from my phone, kid. tell 'em you got busy and your phone died — it's easy."

you nod slowly, taking a much more relaxed breath as you accept his phone to do just that. chris scoffs quietly, resuming his chewing on the lollipop stick while squeezing your knee, before slumping his head down nonchalantly on your shoulder, listening as you speak to your parents — completely unaware of you trying to keep your voice steady and ignoring the flurry of butterflies through your stomach at the close proximity.

© STURNIOZ

[lycheedr3ams]

ℑ𝔩𝔩 𝔐𝔢𝔱 𝔟𝔶 𝔐𝔬𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱

werewolf!könig x fem!reader

Prologue | October 29th | October 30th | October 31st

Summary: You're a bakery worker in the small, isolated town of Heiligenblut, Austria. König is a hunter and lumberjack who stays to himself and always has an aura of mystery and darkness. and through a series of strange circumstances, you're the one to uncover his secret. (set in the modern-day) CW: fem she/her reader, no use of y/n, adult content, predator/prey dynamics, werewolf-fucking, mentions of animal carcasses and blood, a bit unsettling at times, slight dub-con Note: IM SO SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG BUT I FINALLY DID IT! also here's the link to the rest of the series if this is your first time finding it

WC: idk

LORE EXPLANATION, READ BEFORE PROCEEDING: i had to make up some of my own werewolf lore mixed with real world history, so plz bear with me: when a werewolf falls in love with someone, and that person also falls for them, the werewolf becomes spiritually tied to this person. when this spiritual connection is created, the werewolf's ties to the spiritual realms are interrupted. the werewolf must physically bond with the person whom the feelings are mutual with to restore the werewolf's connection to the other realms. Halloween is the day when that veil between our world and the spiritual one is thinned, allowing for connections to take place. this is why people always wore costumes: to scare off the ghosts that came onto our plane during this time. i can't say anything else without spoiling it, just know most of this is NOT from folklore, i just made up my own werewolf lore bc plot~

this is the last part! get ready for some werewolf sex lol.. I felt kinda weird writing this, plz don't judge

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME A YEAR

previously on October 30th...

könig slowly closed the distance between you two, his arms returning to his sides. you looked up at him, feeling a bit jumpy; he had been so unpredictable this whole night. he placed his large hands on your shoulders, engulfing each one, and gently pressed his fingers into you. his attempt at holding you close, maybe? but his arms seemed to tremble, and his breathing was shaky and loud, almost like he was a crazed man. you leaned away a little, but könig brought his masked mouth to your hear.

"please," he whispered desperately into your ear, his voice slightly cracking. his entire body trembled before you. "please help me."

October 31st - midnight

you looked at könig with your head slightly tiled to the side. help him? "what do you mean?" you asked. "if you're talking about hunting, I can't help you with that."

könig pressed his fingers into your shoulders a little more, his large form trembling. "yes, actually, you can." he said cryptically.

you glanced around his cabin. there were no guns, no bows or arrows, no traps, nothing at all that looked like it could remotely kill a deer or wild boar. könig sensed your hesitation.

"do not be afraid," he said through gritted teeth. he took a few steps back from you, his arm wrapped around his stomach almost as if he was going to throw up. your eyes widened.

"what's wrong? are you sick?" you took a few steps towards him, but he stepped back again.

"don't get any closer...not yet," he said quietly. he looked at you from the corner of his eye. you had thought his eyes were brown, but maybe it was the lighting that seemed to turn them golden.

"könig, just tell me what's going on! the whole town is wondering what happened to you and why there's no feast for Halloween!"

König's demeanor shifted, and a noticeable tremor ran through his spine. it almost looked like he was convulsing, or being possessed by something. your heart skipped.

"ah, so that's what they say?" his voice was suddenly more menacing, the words almost coming out as a snarl. "they think I am incapable. sheep begrudging the wolf."

“Um… well, just tell me what’s going on,” you offered with a shaky voice.

König stared at you for a long moment, his eyes narrowing as he thought. “You won’t believe me” he huffed out.

“Try me.”

…

König’s demeanor grew nervous for a moment. He fidgeted with something in his pocket and his eyes darted around. “I’ve just been having a problem.”

“With what? Just tell me König” you said pleadingly.

“Have you ever wondered why I always catch the best meat out of the other hunters? Why I’m so solitary, why I never train anyone to hunt with me?”

You took a shaky breath in. “Yes, I have.”

König’s chest tightened. “It’s… because…because I’m a werewolf,” he said in his thick Austrian accent.

You froze, and couldn’t help laughing for a moment. “König, werewolves aren’t real.”

“They are!” He yelled, causing you to shrink back in fear. He slumped his shoulders and stepped back, regret clear in his eyes. “They are real. But I can’t show you because of my problem.”

You stared at König with an incredulous expression. Why the hell was he saying he’s a werewolf? But if you thought about it, if anyone was a werewolf, it definitely would be him.

“Okay. So you’re a werewolf” you repeat. “How could I possibly help you with that?”

König’s cheeks reddened slightly under his mask, an expression you had never seen from him before.

“It’s… hard to explain. I swear I’m not making it up.”

You nodded. “Just tell me.”

König took a long breath before fidgeting with something in his pocket again. His eyes were averted from yours as he spoke.

“When a werewolf… falls for a human, their soul becomes tied to them. I know it sounds crazy,” König stared pacing around the cabin, his steel-toed boots thudding against the tattered wood flooring. “The werewolf can’t transform until they know their feelings have been returned. But that’s not all of it.”

You stood silently, waiting for him to continue. He took another deep breath.

“The werewolf can’t transform out of his human state until he… he…” König looks away, almost shamefully. “Until he is intimate with the object of his affection.”

Your heart skipped and your cheeks got hot. Intimate? “Like….”

“Ja,” König nodded. “Like… that.”

You blushed. “So let me get this straight. You’re a werewolf. You’ve secretly liked me but didn’t know I liked you back. You can’t transform into a werewolf again until you’re intimate with me?”

“…Ja” König said flatly after a pause.

“This… this is insane,” you said.

“I know it sounds insane. But listen, bitte” he almost pleaded. “The reason why I haven’t gotten any prey for the festival, the reason everyone is doubting me, is because I can’t transform. And it’s all because I fell for you.”

You took a deep breath. “So if we’re intimate, you can become a werewolf and hunt again?”

“Ja,” König said.

“Fine. All right.”

König’s eyes seemed to light up. “Really? Do you agree?”

“I do,” you said with a nod. “If it means everything will go back to normal, then I will. I mean, I can’t lie… I’ve wanted to do this with you for a while now.”

König’s eyes turned predatory, and you thought you nearly saw a wolf in that moment.

…

König restrained himself as much as he could. He helped you onto the bed and hovered over you, his body heat emanating in waves. Your breathing instantly deepened. Just the presence of König from over the bakery counter was intimidating, but having this beast of a man on top of you? You thought you could’ve turned tail and ran.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked as he tilted your chin up with his index finger. You nodded breathlessly, and he didn’t waste a moment before pressing his chapped lips onto your soft ones. you thought he must've been starving with the way he was gently gnawing on your plush bottom lip, or with the way he lapped at your mouth when you parted your lips for him. you tried to back away slightly, just to catch your breath, but he held the back of your head firmly with his large palm, his fingers slightly digging into your scalp as he smushed his face into yours. when konig was finally out of breath, he looked at you with wide eyes, and you wiped your cheeks clean with your sleeve.

the air was thick with tension, nothing but the sound of the crackling fire and wind in the trees to fill the silence. until suddenly, konig pounced on you. his kisses were even sloppier than before, his large body pinning you down on the deer-fur carpet on the cabin floor. he hastily yanked at your clothes, growling when they got in his way. you helped him take off your clothes, but he was too eager and didn't even wait until you were fully nude. your panties hung on one of your ankles, one bra strap still clung to your shoulder.

konig looked at you with the most desperate look a man had ever given you. his eyes were half-lidded, and his lips half-parted as he breathed heavily from between them.

"you ready, ja?" he asked as he unceremoniously ran two fingers between your lips, feeling your warm slick. you mewled, not expecting the pleasure from his rough, calloused fingers so soon. he looked at you, almost with intrigue, as he teasingly rubbed your clit. you squirmed slightly, your eyes shutting as you moaned. but konig couldn't wait for you to orgasm. he tugged his pants zipper down, not even bothering to undress at all.

"i can't wait, i need you now". he parted your pussy lips with his large fingers and sunk into your slick, wet heat. you both moaned in unison at the delicious stretch of his cock.

he tried to be gentle at first. he really did. but he finally had you. he couldn't hold back, not at all. the filthy, wet, sticky sounds of your coupling filled the cabin as he rutted into you like a rabid animal. he grunted when he saw your breasts heaving with his thrusts, knowing that you were feeling so good because of him.

his grunts filled your ears as he pinned you up and open, your knees by your ears. his head was bent next to yours, forehead on the floor as he pounded into you. he gasped and groaned, feeling your warm, tight, wet heat around him. your face was contorted in ecstasy, your toes curling.

but suddenly, konig's eyes seemed to...change color? he groaned loudly, almost as in pain, and you felt fur rather than his sweat-slicked skin against your chest. before you understood what was happening, konig had transformed into a werewolf. even though konig had explained to you what he really was, you hadn't expected this of all things, for him to turn into a werewolf while he was fucking you.

but the pleasure he was now giving you, with his large, girthy cock was just enough to completely make you unable to think. all you could do was take, take the pounding that this man-beast was now giving you. You didn’t even have the brain power to think about any embarrassing faces or noises you were making from the sheer pressure and heat and force that his cock was giving you. The rickety wood of the floorboards creaked rhythmically as konig, in full werewolf form, fucked you on the floor of his cabin.

His fucking was not gentle, and it was so intense and loud and hot that it made you see stars. One of konigs large, half-human half-beast paws gripped the back of your head when it tipped back against the floor. His claws gently pricked at the edge of your years, causing your spine to tingle and your walls to flutter. It was single-handedly the worst and best physical sensation you had ever experienced.

His growls sounded in your ear as his thrusts lost their rhythm and grew erratic. You heard garbled words in your ear as he tried to speak with his wolf muzzle, but you couldn’t make out any words. You pulled on the fur of his back as he mated with you, your toes curling in the air and back arching at the delicious feeling of his werewolf cock inside you.

Suddenly, his cock went deeper and what you now realized was his knot slipped into you. You gasped from the slight burn of the stretch, but your insides were quickly soothed when he came inside you, a pleasant and full warm feeling that leaked out from where you two were joined. You panted as if you had just sprinted, while his breaths came in huffs from between sharp, gritted teeth. You closed your eyes for how long you weren’t sure, and konig was human again when you came to, lying naked beside you.

“I must hunt.” He said matter of factly as he stood up and got dressed. “Are you okay?”

You couldn’t find the words to speak, not after everything that had happened. Not only did you just fuck the untouchable konig, you fucked the untouchable werewolf konig.

“How…am I dreaming?” You asked.

Konig leaned down beside you and brushed your hair away from your face. “Nein, you are not dreaming. It is real. I will be back. Stay here.”

And just like that, konig left the cabin in the dead of night.

…

You awoke the next morning lying in konigs bed, covered in soft fur blankets. You blinked open your eyes and saw konig sitting by the fireplace, staring into the flames. His normal black face mask was back on, and his eyes widened when he saw you were awake.

“Are you hungry?” He asked simply.

You nodded. Konig got to fixing you a plate of food, fresh catch from what you assumed was his hunt last night. He kneeled down next to the bed and gently, almost reverently, placed the plate in your lap. He watched you as you ate.

Konig cleared his throat. “Because of you…I was able to bring meat back for the festival. I hunted all I could, and the festival went on.”

You nodded, not really sure what to say. Konig noticed.

“I know you must be thinking about a lot right now. Just eat. Everything will be okay. I am not a monster.” The crinkle in the corner of his eyes betrayed a smile hidden underneath that face mask.

You smiled and shook your head, realizing how sore your body was from the events of last night. You supposed that konigs secret didn’t matter, as long as you got to benefit from it every full moon.

Thank you all for being here

taglist: @osteawb, @sleepystaarr, @vvampir3s, @simpxinnie, @majocookie, @sharkyyyyyyyyyyyy, @marysdelrey, @kybeth5, @chaos-on-stand-bi, @shannonswizzies, @arcadia509, @bloodstoneruby, @cumikering, @skystreamchan, @junkratssheila-09, @kit-williams, @tangerynsbaby, @dreamdiaries777, @royalbxstxrd, @non-satanic-panic, @theweirdchick, @kiyomisan, @maylif, @mortimoshi, @eneiss, @daughter-ofthe-forest, @celi-xxmoon, @mangoguy, @babypeanut02

[to-thelakes]

nothing but a pass time (lip gallagher x reader)

content warning(s); underage smoking, mentions of underage drinking, sad!lip, comfort, hints of angst (unrequited love)

summary; the summer had come around but you and lip were always the same. except it was harder to ignore your brewing feelings now.

series masterlist

i have edited and read this part over so many times that i feel like i'm not actually making it better anymore, so here it is! more of my babies, the next few parts are gonna get a little angst-heavy from both lip and reader's side but then i think it's gonna settle a bit and hopefully get a little better, i have the next three parts all partly/fully written and they're sad but also sweet (comfort is real and lip NEEDS iT, this poor man), so anyway, here's the new part hehe

“My dad would kill you if he found us,” You said as you rounded the corner with Lip. He had texted you, asking you to come and meet him. You didn’t mind. You’d been dying to see him after a too-long shift at the store. You had been there all day, sweating and dealing with shitty customers, and that one text was enough for you to be filled with a familiar sense of glee. 

You didn’t need a reason to see Lip, you never had but something about him asking to see you made you giddy. That text was enough to have you halfway out the door in minutes, changed, showered and beaming.

Though, that had always been the case.

The cigarette between your lips was new though. You had never been one for smoking but Lip had somehow gotten you into it. You only smoked with him though.

“They still think we’re dating?” Lip asked as you stopped by one of the pillars that held the El tracks up. The train only came every twenty minutes or so this late at night. So it was peaceful, quiet and you could smoke without being disturbed.

You were the one to plop yourself down first, feet aching from being on them all day. Working nearly a 10 hour shift was not for the weak and you were wondering why you’d bothered to do it to yourself.

“I dunno,” You shrugged as you took a drag of the cigarette Lip had handed to you. He sat down beside you, head resting back against the concrete. You let the smoke fill your lungs before you breathed it out into the night air. It was cooler than it had been all day, you didn’t feel like the air was suffocating you, just the cigarette, “Hard to tell with them at the moment,” You shrugged, the hint of something more beneath those words but neither of you dug into it. Lip simply nodded and you offered the cigarette back. He took it from between your two fingers and took a long drag.

He looked sad. You assumed that’s why he had even bothered you this late. He knew you’d been working all day and he had always used it as an excuse to keep to himself. But tonight, he seemed to want to see you. You were never going to deny him.

You hadn’t ever denied him anything.

You watched as he blew the smoke out through his nose and you leaned closer, resting your head on his shoulder. He briefly tensed up before relaxing. 

He had gotten so jumpy recently. 

You tried to ignore it.

“What’s up?” You asked after a moment of silence. He offered the cigarette to you but you waved him off. You could feel the nicotine buzzing through your system, not used to the high after nearly a week of not seeing Lip.

“Karen’s got this guy,” Lip said after a moment of silent contemplation, “Jody. Some fuckin’ asshole twice her age,” He explained, waving his free hand out. He then put the cigarette between his lips, breathing in the smoke and speaking as he exhaled, “Hasn’t even fucked her. She says it’s some Sex Addicts Anonymous shit. I don’t get it,” Lip said as he choked slightly on the smoke. You should have known this is where the conversation would go so you simply reached your hand out for the cig.

Lip passed it over without question.

Part of him hated himself for corrupting you. You had never touched a drop of alcohol until he convinced you otherwise. And you had resisted smoking cigarettes until one night a few months back at a party with him. 

You had been pretty drunk at that party and he had casually offered his cigarette to you. He hadn’t thought much of it, expecting you to shake your head and tell him to ‘fuck off’ as you always did. Instead, you had taken it from his fingers, taken a drag and coughed on the smoke. 

But that didn’t stop you from taking another drag.

Now every time he watched the smoke curl out from between your lips, he felt bad. Like he had doomed you to some horrible fate.

“And she said that they’re together and just sit under the stars and talk and shit. I mean, who does that?” He asked. You tried to bite back the reply that that’s exactly what the two of you did but you kept your mouth shut, “We’re teenagers. We’re meant to be fucking each other and doing stupid shit. Not- not watching cartoons and fucking cooking together. It’s- it’s just bullshit,” Lip was frustrated. You could tell and you couldn’t blame him. Not really.

Part of you just felt sorry for him. You knew that he had fallen for Karen but she never really shared those feelings. At least, not that you could tell. She liked him and she liked to fuck him but you were never sure if it was more.

Another part of you was happy she was fucking with Lip’s head. Maybe it made you spiteful but you wanted him to understand how it felt to have someone always keep you at arm’s length.

You tried not to think about that though. 

You were his friend. 

You were there to help him, not celebrate his pain.

“Are you still fucking her?” You asked after a moment. You weren’t entirely sure how to make Lip feel better. You weren’t well-versed in this shit.

He nodded.

“Yeah but it’s this guy. He’s a fucking asshole,” Lip bit back, cigarette hanging from his lips. You rolled your eyes and took the cigarette from between his lips to take a puff yourself. You stayed quiet for a minute, not sure what to say.

“At least you still get to fuck her,” You responded, trying to see the bright side. You wanted to make him feel better, “Clearly if they aren’t even fucking, it doesn’t mean that much. So, give it a few months and she’ll be past him.” The words felt heavy on your tongue, trying to ignore the truth in what you were saying.

Lip had never fucked you and you had always been nothing but a pass-time for him. A friend to cry to and seek comfort from but nothing more. You knew that you didn’t mean that much to Lip. Not as much as Karen anyway.

“Yeah, maybe,” Lip said as he glanced down to watch you blow the smoke from between your lips. You tapped the edge of the cigarette on your thigh, ashes flying through the air just as an El train passed overhead.

It was deafening but the noise gave you some solace. You hadn’t noticed Lip looking at you and so you let yourself feel the heaviness. It was just for a moment and then you put your guard back up.

But for a moment, you let yourself frown. Let yourself feel sad. Feel lonely. Feel fucking stupid.

Then you were back to normal.

Once the train had passed, you spoke again.

“The way I see it, he’s either gonna break up with her or they’re gonna fuck. Either way, she’ll come back to you,” You decided after a moment. You weren’t sure if it was true. You had no experience with relationships. You’d only ever kissed people drunk at parties so you were talking out your ass.

But Lip just hummed along and took the cigarette from between your fingers. He took another drag and then smushed the butt of it against the grass, putting it out.

“Everything okay with you?” Lip asked after a beat of silence. Your head lifted from his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d asked if you were okay. Usually, you told him anyway but he never asked.

“Yeah, why?” You responded, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He shrugged, meeting your gaze. Your eyes were boring into him and he felt guilty seeing the confusion. The way your eyebrows furrowed at his question as if you weren’t his best friend. As if he didn’t care about you.

“Y’just seem tired, that’s all,” He responded, shrugging. He was trying not to be defensive but it was hard not to be.

“Had a long day, it’s fine,” You retorted as you reached into the top pocket of his shirt. You didn’t ask before you grabbed the pack of cigarettes. Instead, you just plucked a stick out and grabbed his lighter. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked. You looked up at him, a teasing smile on your lips.

“Bumming a smoke,” You stated before you placed the cigarette between your lips. You used your hand to shelter the end of the cig before flicking the lighter on. The bright flame illuminated your face, eyes shining in the light. It was there for a split second before you had successfully lit the cigarette.

“You been smokin’ with someone else?” He asked. You scoffed, dropping the cigarette pack and lighter back into his pocket before you took a drag.

“Fuck off, as if,” You dead-panned as you exhaled. You then took another drag, leaving the cigarette hanging off your lips as you blew the smoke out of your nose. It was Lip’s turn to take the cigarette from your lips now. He made eye contact with you as he took it, placing it between his own.

Fuck. You hated when he did shit like that.

The way he looked at you like he really gave a shit.

You tried not to think about it.

“Good,” He said before he took his own drag. You two sat in silence like that for a while, sharing the cigarette. You knew it was bad for you. You had told yourself you’d never be a smoker but the summer was long and being around Lip was painful. The nicotine made it easier to deal with.

So you just smoked until Lip - once again - put it out in the dirt. He then just stared, another El train passing overhead. You were both quiet for a moment before you sighed. You needed to go home.

“Got work tomorrow,” You muttered after a beat. It was you saying you needed to leave without really saying it at all. But you did, you needed to get out of here.

“Stay at mine tonight?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Gotta leave early, starting at 6. Would just wake you up. You’re grumpy that early,” You stated as you looked up at him. He frowned. You didn’t know what else to say to him and so you just looked at each other for a moment.

“Want you to stay over,” He mumbled, looking away. You ran your hands across your face, wondering if you were really gonna let this happen. But you already knew the answer the second he had asked the question.

“Let me grab my shit,” You gave in. Lip couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his face. It felt like a victory, a small victory. 

[leviathanleva]

Sugar Bomb

Pairing: Findlay 'Hazard' Docherty x Fem!Reader

Description: Trying to court Hazard is tough. You nearly give up, thinking your methods have failed. Or have they?

[2.4 k words]

Chapter 5

“Listen, I’m an omnic and even I can smell your perfume.”

You purse your lips at Susie before averting your attention to the lava lamp on your nightstand.

How everyone but Findlay had noticed the changes was beyond you. You’d tried so hard to impress him, your wardrobe was full of cute dresses now, even knitted winter ones you tended to freeze in, but soldiered on just to try and catch his eye. Thigh-high socks had become a regular sight, squishing your thighs just perfectly. You’d even gotten your nails done, a pretty bubblegum pink.

A sweet candy perfume rested next to the lava lamp; one-third of the bottle was already gone because you never missed the chance to renew the aroma on your neck, hoping that the dumb blond would be lured in by the smell of treats. But no, the oblivious bloke instead checked the cookie jar every time you were together in the kitchen because he was too daft to realize the notes of vanilla and cinnamon were coming from you and not some hidden pastry.

“I just missed being girly.” Is the first lie you can think of to tell Susie and sate her hunger for being in on the secret to your sudden and drastic change.

You’d rather move out than tell anyone the pathetic reason why you abandoned sweatpants and leggings for short dresses and tight thigh-highs.

“And that’s why you spent half your savings on a new wardrobe when your clothes are perfectly fine?”

You cross your legs in discomfort and suppress the need to hide under your covers.

“Yes.”

Every morning you took a shower before starting an intensive skincare routine. From ampules to face masks and even a rose quartz face roller. You scrubbed yourself raw, used the best-scented body lotion you could find, and caked yourself with copious amounts of vitamin C and sunblock, made sure that every little imperfection and blemish was covered up, that your cheeks always had a ruddy tint to them, lips always hydrated and as plump as possible. Your skin was glowing, your hair was immaculate, your clothes were ironed to perfection, everything about you was as spectacular as you could make it.

And still, he didn’t notice a fucking thing.

Men…typical.

Each day you tried a new outfit, thinking maybe it’s not a color he likes, the length is wrong, the combination isn’t his style. And each day your hopes were crushed when he didn’t even dare to look in your general direction.

Were you that unfavorable in a dress? What were you doing wrong?

It was exhausting to be denied even a glance when a month ago you were holding each other like lost lovers. Granted he���d almost died and you were on the brink of a complete meltdown because of it, but still.

Now his eyes were everywhere but on you, his good mornings and good nights were rushed and dismissive as if he didn’t even want to speak with you.

It took a toll on your confidence.

“You know I’m gonna get to the bottom of this, right?”

You squint at Susie’s words and force out a nervous laugh before shifting slightly away from her on the bed.

It was girls' night again, it had been a while since you both had enough time and energy to have a proper sleepover. You had been ecstatic and in desperate need of a distraction from your failed attempts at courting Hazard. But of course, the sweet little omnic was perceptive and she knew you too well for all these sudden changes to go unexplained.

So here you were, being interrogated while you did your best to dodge the matter.

She was more headstrong than you though.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” She says delicately as if she was trying not to frighten a jumpy hare.

“I know Suze.” You sigh and look away when your expression changes from content, but slightly nervous, to utterly pained and dejected. “But there’s nothing to talk about. I’m just running an experiment, trying to boost my confidence is all, but so far…” You take a breath and continue. “…So far it’s felt like an utter failure.”

Her hands twitch in her lap before she rests one over your knee, kind and gentle like she always was.

“Is that what this is all about?” The omnic tilts her head slightly and then chirps out a giggle. “You’re not feeling confident?”

There’s genuine sympathy in her tone and you force out an embarrassed smile and brush your fingers you’re your hair awkwardly.

“Yeah…” Is all you manage before taking your pillow to squeeze against your chest and stuffing your face into it. It wasn’t technically a lie, your confidence was suffering, but it was more due to someone rather than diminishing by itself.

When you hear shuffling you look back up and see Susie sliding off the bed and slipping on her coat with determination you’d not seen in her before.

“Where are you going?” You ask, words muffled into the fluff of the pillow.

“I’ll be right back, trust me.” She calls back and closes the door behind her, leaving you alone in the dim atmosphere of your bedroom.

And so you wait, abandoned to solitude with a bowl of popcorn and a list of old corny movies you were planning on watching. Snow fell languidly outside your window, piled up on the sill, a friend to the frosted flowers decorating the glass. The heater blasting in the corner did well to fill the silence with a soft white noise, but it wasn’t enough to quell your self-doubt. You’re left to your thoughts which have been very unkind lately, it’s not a good place to be in. Your mind berates you incessantly and all you can do is squeeze yourself into a tighter ball of shame and just take it.

Not good enough. – It wasn’t a term you liked to use, you knew how detrimental to one’s mental health it was and in the past you’d managed to stray from it, well, mostly. But lately, it had kept nagging at the back of your head until you couldn’t ignore it anymore. Self-hate had slithered into your bloodstream and now there was no getting rid of it when all of your self-worth was unknowably put on the shoulders of a man who didn’t even want to acknowledge you.

You pat the pillow in your lap gently before puffing out a breath.

“Fuck this.”

You’re wiping the cat eyeliner off your lids and smearing the lipgloss into the back of your palm to get it off your mouth before you can process what’s happening. Once that’s done, you take the perfume bottle and stuff it in your drawer where you hope to forget it ever existed.

If he didn’t like you, that was that, no amount of makeup or pretty clothes were going to change his opinion. You’d just hoped that maybe…

“No.”

You shake your head, shake all the stupid thoughts away before standing to change out of the white knitted dress you were suffering in. A pair of khaki shorts and a large hoodie, a mouthful of popcorn, and a stupid romcom with Susie were all you needed to be happy.

There’s a ruckus outside your door, hissy voices that are scream-whispering at each other but the words are too rushed and belligerent for you to comprehend. You go still and strain your ears, leaning slightly towards the entrance of your room while trying to listen, but nothing comes of it, the voices are too distorted.

When the door opens you jump instinctively and grip onto your hoodie to steady your racing heartbeat.

There stands Susie, gripping Hazard’s arm and keeping him from bolting down the hallway and away from you like he was avoiding the plague. If it didn’t literally rip your heart apart, you’d find it funny. It was like making him eat steamed broccoli all over again.

“Great! Now we’re all here.” The sweet omnic starts and nudges Findlay in the ribs hard. “Now say what you think, Haz.”

“Wut? O,…right. I uh… I don’t – ” The poor Scotsman was stumbling over his words more than you were over your thoughts. He looked about ready to crawl out of his skin, it was torture to see him in such a state and despite Susie’s good intentions, you’d rather just set him free from your unwanted presence.

“Suze, really. It’s okay, he looks so uncomfortable.” You blabber out with a strained laugh and raise your hands up to motion for her to let him go despite the tears prickling the back of your eyes.

“No, no. He’s been dancing around this since you changed your style.” She interrupted and pulled Hazard inside the room before shutting the door to keep him from escaping. “Go on, Haz.”

It was a comical sight, the man barely fit in your small cozy dwelling. This was the first time he had ever entered your room and if the circumstances were any different, you’d be a nervous wreck, but right now, you just wanted this whole charade to be over.

“Susie, please…Just leave him be.” You plead, unaware of the small crystal clear droplets that are starting to weigh down on your lower lashes.

He’s tapping his foot in agitation and readjusting his tee every few seconds. His eyes skim over your bedroom – your lamp, the old TV screen, the popcorn bowl, your bed, everything and anything that isn’t you. You want to scream in his face:

“What the fuck did I do to you?! Why are you acting like this?!”

But you couldn’t, it wasn’t like you, confrontation was scary, confrontation with Findlay was even scarier.

“No. I’m done with you two playing the long game. Just say what you want to say and stop suffering – ”

“ – Susie!” You don’t realize you’ve yelled until it’s already echoing around, you don’t realize your voice broke halfway into pronouncing her name either. You swallow awkwardly, partly curl in on yourself, and speak in a rasp “Just let him go. He doesn’t want to be here.”

You’re sniffling softly, barely suppressing sobs and hugging yourself. It’s pitiful, you hate yourself for it, you wish you weren’t such a crybaby.

“Ey…No..No, no, no.” You hear him say, look up and meet his eyes for the first time in weeks. He approaches you hastily, ripping out of Susie’s grip to bend over you and tenderly wipe your cheeks dry. “None o’ this shite.” He gives the omnic a side glance. “Give us a moment, ye?”

When you hear the door shut behind her your lips part to form blubbery, wet words soaked with days of silent suffering.

“Why don’t you look at me anymore, Haz?” You wrap your fingers around his large wrist, craving his touch desperately after so long. “Did I do something? I don’t get it…You don’t even come close to me – ” A sob, a hiccup, a shiver wracking your body, cutting your mumbling off short. “ – anymore.”

“I’s Findlay. Fin for you. Kay, bonnie?” He speaks evenly, wraps one arm around your waist and gently tugs you into his wide chest. You practically disappear in his embrace, surrounded by warm, heavy muscle and it feels so right to stand like this. You relax, wipe your nose into the sleeve of your hoodie, mewling softly as he coos down at you. “Mah wee hen. Pretty li’le birdie. ‘M sorry…”

You cling to him, standing on the tips of your toes just to be able to rest your damp cheek against his prosthetic shoulder and still barely reaching. Your fingers trace the synthetic cords on his nape and you hear him gurgle out a curse before taking in a deep breath and choking audibly.

Then it dawns on you that your attempt at luring him to you might have backfired. You pull away slightly and cup his chin with unfathomable tenderness. He leans into your caress and closes his eyes to concentrate on stifling the hunger sparking to life inside his abdomen.

“Is it the perfume? I’ll stop wearing it, I thought you’d like it…I didn’t think you might actually be allergic – ”

“ – I’s not tha’, hen.” He struggles for words, a man barely restrained by his care for you and your dignity, because you simply deserved better than him. “Ah like it. Ah do…A bit too much.”

It takes you a moment to process what he means, but once you do, your whole body feels like it’s been lit ablaze. Your heart pounds in your chest, ready to leap through your ribs at any second. You dig your nails in his skin to try and keep from collapsing right there on the spot and earn a strained rumble from him as a reward.

“Prancin’ about in those pre’y li’le dresses. Could smell ya ‘round every corner.” He glowers, driven to the brink of insanity by your existence in his life. He kneads your sides eagerly, craving the flesh hidden beneath the thick fabric of your hoodie. He’s desperate, restrain runs thin and he’s had enough torture to be able to resist again now that you were in his hands, yielding and soft. “Wasn’t enough ta test me with them pre’y clothes. Had to use tha’ stench too. Lure me out like a wolf starved.”

“Fin…” You mewl out weakly, grateful for his solid hold on you because you were nearly ready to faint.

“I like ta think is all fur me, ya know?” He murmurs, it’s barely audible and you want to shout in his ear that it is, but it feels like there’s water in your lungs, you’re drowning in his presence, immobilized and pliant.

“Findlay…”

You manage to sneak a glance. His eyes are glowing in the dimness of your room, a threatening shadow cast over them and making them stand out. He looks like an apex predator about to feast, having finally caught his meal. And you’re right there, the willing sacrifice, ready to be swallowed whole if only to stay with him forever. You’re ready for anything as long as he’s there with you.

“Wonna eat ya up.” His nose is pressed into your neck, inhaling deeply, then you feel a wetness being dragged across your skin and a shiver wracks you entirely. “Cannae take it anymore…”

“Please, please, please…”

This is all you’ve ever wanted.

“You two alright in there?” Susie, bless her, the ever-caring friend that she was, but you really wished she wasn’t waiting for you to wrap it up on the other side of your door. He pulls away silently, regrettably, and spares you a last wanton glance before heading for the door and leaving you there thrumming and beyond overjoyed.

<<< Chapter 4

Chapter 6 >>>

Masterlist

[psylocke142]

Night of fireworks

Jihyo x fem!reader

synopsis: Colorful lights began to erupt into the night sky. You felt as if your heart burst along with each explosion in the sky. Dreading the end of the festival. This is the last summer you will spend with Jihyo before you part ways.

w/c: 1.8k

warnings: none(?); maybe some angst; goodbyes; definitely some angst

a/n: i was surprised with the results of my first fic(?), not sure what to call it. thank you if you read that and left a like or reblog <3.  i was expecting nothing tbh so i was so happy to see it do better than i expected.

i was listening to Night of Fireworks by Xdinary Heroes and was inspired to write this work. i chose jihyo because i've been missing her zone & one spark era lately. DMs and asks are open. i’m still new to writing so any suggestions or comments are appreciated. apologies for any errors.

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

Jihyo looked beautiful today. She always did, but today you felt mesmerized by her. Even with the lack of light outside, as the sun had already set, Jihyo seemed to glow in your eyes.

“Come on y/n, don’t get lost.”

Your hand was grasped by Jihyo’s, pulling you along to make sure you didn’t get lost in the crowd. Jihyo looked back towards you. Blinding smile crossing her features, making her glow even more.

Your mushy thoughts and gazing were suddenly interrupted.

“There you guys are, we’ve been looking for you two everywhere.” Nayeon huffed.

“These two have been running my pockets wanting to play every festival game.” She continued. The culprits, Momo and Sana, happily ate away at a huge bucket of cotton candy. Which was also bought with Nayeon’s money. No remorse in their eyes.

Mina just silently greeted you two with a smile and waved as Nayeon clung to her arm in defeat.

“Please tell them that these games are rigged for you to lose money trying to win stupid stuffed toys!” the eldest whined.

It was the end of summer, which meant that the city’s annual summer festival was in place. The six of you had decided to come to this year’s festival. You were all still adjusting to the adult world; the youngest of your group just finishing university, others securing new jobs, and the rest of you were piled with work. This left little room for your friends to hang out like before. There were still a few of you missing tonight.

Jeongyeon and Tzuyu couldn’t make it, the vet center they’re working at had them stay for the night shift. They explained that some of the animals get jumpy with fireworks, so they were quick to oblige. Chaeyoung and Dahyun volunteered to stay behind with them to help, expressing concern over their friends being left out. Really they just wanted to play with the puppies and kittens all night.

Your group of friends sought a night of enjoyment and unwinding. The girls were all glad to be able to have found time to gather and spend together. Jihyo was particularly delighted that majority of your group could make it. Wanting to see your girlfriend even more happy you had a plan. Tonight every wish Jihyo had was your command.

Jihyo wanted funnel cake?

You bought her some.

Jihyo wanted to go on the bumper carts?

You teamed up to annoy Nayeon by cornering her and continuously crashed into her cart.

Jihyo wanted a ‘stupid stuffed toy’?

You played the festival games until you won her a cute stuffed elephant.

Much to Nayeon’s dismay. Momo and Sana gave her puppy eyes and promised to treat her to dinner if she won them something. She relented of course. Surprisingly, or not, Mina won a medium-sized panda on her second attempt of the ring toss.

Despite being able to enjoy the festival and being with your friends, there was a gnawing feeling eating away at you. It would creep up on you throughout the night. Not letting you stray too far from the reality of tonight. A reminder of the ticking timer in your chest.

This summer festival would be the last you get to spend with Jihyo.

Jihyo had gotten a promotion. Said promotion was a significant milestone in her career, as she was still a rookie in her office, only having worked for her company for two years. This was a chance she couldn’t turn down, it would be unwise to do so.

However, there was a major downside to this promising opportunity. It required her to relocate. Jihyo had to move to the company’s prestigious headquarters — in Paris. She would be moving to a beautiful and alluring city while gaining valuable experience for her work, but it also meant she had to leave her current life behind. Her friends, family, and you.

Jihyo didn’t mind the idea of starting fresh in a new country. Her ambitiousness and work ethic would make that a smooth process. What weighed heavily in both her heart and mind, was what it meant for the two of you.

Despite your willingness to move to Paris and follow your girlfriend, she protested. You had just secured a job with your dream company a couple months ago. Following Jihyo meant giving up the job you dedicated your blood, sweat, and tears for. That was something Jihyo couldn’t allow. The memory of you jumping in joy when you landed the job fresh in mind. She couldn’t take that away from you by asking you to leave with her. Hesitantly you obeyed Jihyo, not wanting to further upset her or cause any more turmoil.

Uncertainty filled your hearts. Fear of what the distance, different time zones, and unforeseeable changes would make of your relationship. So you both reluctantly agreed to not let it reach to a point of no return. Not wanting to taint the beautiful relationship you cultivated throughout the years.

To set aside the worries and stress, Jihyo invited the group to the summer festival. Afterall, this would probably be the last time she gets to hang out with everyone for a while.

Jihyo’s main reason for coming to the summer festival was to see the firework show with you. She wanted to spend a memorable night with you before the end.

As you prepared to leave to watch the show, Jihyo said her goodbyes to your friends. Both sides making promises of keeping in touch.

The conversations between Jihyo and the girls made your heart clench, knowing that you were going to have a similar talk later that night. Taking in the fact that you would have a different goodbye than your friends. One more permanent.

Once again Jihyo was leading you, hand in hers, to a vacant park that would have a nice view of the firework show. Once again, you just cherished the sight of her.

As you sat down on the grass, waiting for the firework show to start, you realized that the night was ending. Without thinking you held onto Jihyo’s hand tighter. In response, the shorter girl placed herself between your legs. She wrapped your arms around her as she leaned herself into your front.

The distant crowd began to applaud and cheer as the countdown for the show began.

Colorful lights began to erupt into the night sky. You felt your chest constrict tightly with each explosion that fired into the sky. Dreading the end of the festival.

You looked up into the sky, at the fireworks.

Then you looked at Jihyo.

Her face was tilted upwards looking at the sky. Big round eyes reflecting the colorful lights. Soft black hair cascading down her profile in slight waves. Mouth slightly agape and forming a bright smile. Face expressing momentary awe and joy. You couldn’t help but feel an immense amount of love for the girl in your arms — the girl who held your heart.

Fireworks were nowhere close to shooting stars that you could wish upon. Still, you hoped that they could grant you just one wish. You gazed at the fireworks and you prayed to the explosive colors in the sky. To let you stay here forever, with Jihyo.

As the build up for the grand finale of the firework show began, you felt your heart’s timer begin to run out. The night was over. You held Jihyo tighter. Buried your head onto her shoulder. Trying to ingrain this moment into your brain.

Before the final fireworks went off Jihyo stood up unraveling herself from your warm embrace. Her back towards you.

“y/n…”

“it’s time.”

You hesitated to stand up. Not quite ready for what was to come.

You thought that maybe it was just you who felt devastated to have to say goodbye. Until Jihyo turned around and lifted her head to look at you. There were tears that had already fallen from her eyes and new ones that threatened to fall. She ignored her tears and just smiled at you.

Jihyo grabbed both of your hands to hold in hers. She observed your face intently. Slowly nearing towards you. She closed the small distance between you. Lips meeting in a gentle but desperate need to be together.

Her hands came up to caress your face but stopped when she felt the tears that ran down your cheeks. Tears that you hadn’t realized had fallen. Jihyo pulled back and wiped away your tears.

“This is what’s best, right Jihyo?” you muttered. Suddenly unsure of what you had both agreed upon. Not quite set on letting each other go. Not set on saying goodbye.

“Yes,” Jihyo quietly replied as her hands roamed your shoulders. Her body pushing against your front to be as close as possible. To savor your touch for these last few moments.

“I love you Ji,”

“I always will.” you whispered as you moved a strand of Jihyo’s hair to tuck behind her ear. Your other hand finding her waist to hold.

“So will I, y/n/n. I love you too.”

Jihyo pushed herself even deeper into your hold, enveloping you in a hug. You reciprocated her actions. Filling as many gaps between your bodies as you could.

The remaining fireworks shot upwards into a final explosion. Finally the ticking timer in your heart went off. Heart bursting alongside the lights in the sky.

Without hesitating you brought your lips to your lover’s. You emitted all the love you felt for Jihyo into the kiss. Your last kiss.

As the fireworks began to fade, you both pulled away. Jihyo brought her hands to yours. You stared down at the connected limbs. Tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes. You willed yourself not to cry as you looked up. You wanted these last moments with Jihyo to be as clear as crystal.

The girl before you still glowed in the dark night. She looked stunning, angelic even, despite the tears in her eyes. Those round mesmerizing eyes held something scenic, a view filled with sadness and love. Far more captivating than any shooting star or firework show.

Thousands of unspoken thoughts were behind both of your eyes. Thoughts that you were able to comprehend without either of you having to voice them.

Jihyo gently let go of your hand, her fingers softly lingering for a moment longer than necessary. The inevitable end of the festival has come and so has the conclusion of your time.

You felt yourself wanting to reach out, to hold her hand tighter as her fingers began to slip away, a last attempt at grasping this fleeting moment that you wished could last forever. The look in her eyes pleaded for you to not make this any more difficult than it already was. A mixture of sadness and adoration. Your own gaze reflected Jihyo’s. A shared understanding; this parting, though painful, was necessary.

Jihyo was the first to speak.

“Goodbye, baby” she solemnly drawled.

“Goodbye, love” you returned.

Still rooted in the same spot, you watched the love of your life walk away. Tears now freely falling. Heart in ashes.

The night of fireworks is over.

[pleaselmhau]

I’ll Come Home to You

Ghost is making his way back to the missus while having memories of how their relationship developed

18+, implied and explicit sexual content, oral (male receiving), v sex, angst, depicted gun violence/wounds, death

——————————————————————————

Honestly, this last deployment seemed to pass in a blur. It was like one minute he was running through gunfire, boots kicking up mud and the next bright driveway lights illuminated his path like beacons calling him home. He chalked it up to just being homesick, of missing the missus. The smooth pavement under his boots, redone a few years ago, leads to his secluded cabin. He always liked the idea of owning a house where he could disappear. Somewhere he could be himself, somewhere he can call home. Home. It's such a strange concept he never gave much thought to. Of course, he had this house before her. He resided there, slept there, and ate there, so technically it was his home. But in his head, he didn’t have a home before he had someone to come back to. As he nears his cabin he thinks back to the first time he brought her home.

“You’re not like gonna kill me or something?” She had said, masking her slight panic behind humor. The look he gave her told her to simmer down. “I just haven’t gotten to paving the driveway yet, old owners let it go to shite.” His explanation seemed to placate her some, but one look at his shabby little cabin in the middle of nowhere had her second-guessing again. He didn’t give her a reason to fear him, but it was only their third date and he was bringing her here and well, he looked like the type of man who could snap her like a twig if desired. He had reached over the center console and a large, calloused hand wrapped around her head, drawing her mouth to his. The kiss was chaste but sweet. “I can see the gears shifting in that pretty little head, want to hold my gun? Even the playing field.” He breathed against her lips. Accidentally getting shot in his own house with his own gun by a civilian was a risk he’d been willing to take that day if she’d just stop being so jumpy. Besides he trusted that he was sure of what her answer would be before he even said the words. Her lips parted in indignation, or maybe just surprise. Either way, she quickly spat out in one breath, “No, I do not want to hold your gun.” His chuckle filled the air before he turned off his truck and climbed out of the driver's seat, shutting the door behind him. In a few long strides, he made his way around the car to her side. With a quick tug, he opened her car door. Resting his forearms on the top rim of the car he leaned in, watching her collect her few things from the cup holders. He was about to tell her to relax when he watched her eyes meet his and then drift down his chest, to where his shirt raised to reveal a sliver of midriff, of the little trail of blonde hair descending from his bellybutton to under his waistband. Her gaze was heated, soaking in the sight before she jerked forward. Then her mouth slotted over his, quick kisses followed by her thighs shifting out of the car to wrap around his waist. His hands slid off the car to her thighs, palming the soft doughy flesh he’d eventually come to memorize before tugging her out of the car and up into his arms. He broke the kiss to peer over her shoulder as he kicked the car door shut and headed for the front of the house. “You better not hurt me,” she had reaffirmed, earning a gruff chuckle. “I won’t.”

With a deep inhale, he breathes in the familiar scent, letting his senses flood with home. How such a simple thing brought him so much peace was beyond him. He passes the light switch, remembering how bright the big fixative she picked out is he decides to leave it off to surprise his lass with his arrival. He can already imagine the happy smile that will light up her face and how she’ll fling herself into his arms. Last time he was sure she was trying to smother him in kisses so he could never leave again. With a small grin of his own, he walks toward the living room. Under the soothing smell of vanilla and something he can’t quite place, he can smell the scent of blood and mud clinging to him. He wants to shower before seeing her so he can be properly welcomed home. It’s a ritual he had picked up from his previous deployments, not wanting to bring the field, the missions, and the death into their home, near her. As he passes the couch his eyes drift down to the coffee table, narrowly avoiding walking into it in the dimlight. He notices the small notch carved into the coffee table, a familiar sight that makes him grin a little wider.

A grunt had escaped his lips when he felt a weight settle on his hips. He was sprawled out on his back on the plush sofa they just bought that day, just a week into living together after her insistence the one he had was far too worn out. He had to admit, this new one was rather comfy, as soon as he laid back on it and closed his eyes he could feel himself shifting into a relaxed state, not quite asleep yet but close. Behind his eyelids, he saw a flash of red and heard a click. His brows had furrowed before he opened his eyes to be face to face with a Polaroid camera and his grinning beauty. “cheeky, real cheeky,” he grumbled as his hand snapped up, reaching for the camera that she pulled just out of reach in time. A squeal escaped her lips as she moved to shift off him, his hands were quicker but he couldn't stop the momentum. Both of them tumble to the ground, in the space between the coffee table and the couch. A loud thunk rang out into the air as the camera hit the side, leaving behind a chink in the wood. His knees pressed into the carpet, ensuring all his weight didn’t crush his lass as she laughed, happy bubbling laughs that filled the space around them. “Is it okay? Is the camera okay?” she asked trying to sound concerned but her bright smile and melodies betrayed her happiness. With a fluid motion, he pulled the camera up to his face, directed it down at her, and pressed the button. A few moments later a small Polaroid started to print out that he stuffed into his pocket. A reminder of her will be nice when he’s away on missions and right he was. “I think you should be more concerned about that pretty little arse of yours,” He drawled as he set the camera down on the coffee table, “where’s the picture you took?” his hands pressed to her sides, patting her pockets before searching their way up her sides. “No, you can't have it,” she squealed between giggles, squirming until she got her hands and knees under her to try and crawl to her escape. He was faster again though, or maybe she wanted to be caught. He had pressed his body over hers, one arm wrapping her waist to keep her back flush to his chest. “Oh? You gonna make me find it, darling?” He purred into her ear, he hadn’t recognized his own voice in that moment but that tone was one he grew to recognize as part of him the more she drew it out. “Did you hide it here?” his hands slipped under her shirt, cupping over her breasts. They just filled his large hands and he remembers being pleased to find she wasn’t wearing a bra. His thumbs brushed over her nipples earning him a breathy moan. “nope, not there,” he hummed, giving her breasts one more squeeze before feeling his way down to her pants, with one hand he unbuttoned them giving his hand enough room to slip under the fabric. “Hmm, is it here?” Came his next tease, cupping his hand over her warm mound. He paused until she gave a response that time which ended up being a shake of her head and some more breathy sighs as she ground her hips back against his still hand. “I don't know,” he said as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck, “Think I might have to check more thoroughly.”

He never did find where she hid it, but he couldn’t be bothered the moment he felt her tight pussy wrapped around his cock. The memory brings a shiver down his spine but he presses on. He’ll have plenty of time to remember his lover’s body once he gets to them. But first, he needs to get this smell out of his skin and clothes. His feet move with memory, bringing him to the bathroom. He steps inside walking to the shower, hopefully, she doesn’t hear the sound of it running from across the house. His fingers curl around the handle though the expecting rain of water never comes. He feels his forehead wrinkle with confusion as he tries a few more times yet the handle doesn’t even budge. Bloody hell, guess he knows what he’s doing tomorrow.

He laid on his back on the cold bathroom floor, his head inside the sink cabinet as he tightened and worked the wrench over and over in a twisting motion. Of course, the old cabin had piping problems he had thought. Truthfully he didn't mind though, he rather enjoyed keeping his hands busy when he was back home. He felt warm hands suddenly pressing to his stomach, smoothing over his abdomen in a firm caress, he didn’t have to look to know who it was. “Almost done, just a little longer,” He said. Though the firm rubs to his waist and lower stomach didn’t cease, “You look so good,” soft lips brushed over his chilled skin, pausing to press a soft kiss to a scar tracing his hip. “It’s so hot how you take care of the house, of me.” he felt her words just as much as he heard them, heated breaths fanning across his skin. He couldn’t stop the soft groan when a warm palm pressed over the bulge that had been forming in his sweatpants. His eyes stayed fixed on the piping even as his body reacted to her soft caresses. “Yeah, why don’t ya show me how much?” His voice was low, a seductive grumble as he spread his thighs some more for her to comfortably settle between them. Her response was firmer kisses to his skin right above his waistband as her hands tug down his sweat until his cock sprung free, hard, and thick. He felt a hand wrap around his shaft as soft lips pressed to the tip. He tried to focus on finishing up fixing the sink, but the feeling of her warm wet mouth suckling on half his length while she stroked the remaining had his mind going blank. “Fuck, that’s it darling, just like that.” one of his hands reached down, tangling through her hair as his hips bucked up. He felt her mouth swallow around him and it had his head falling back against the wood and a groan escaping his lips. With a final twist, he tightened the last piece before sitting up straight again. His hand in her hair brought her mouth up to his own. His lips devoured hers, heavy and passionate tasting himself on her. He tugged her into his lap with firm hands. “Atta girl,” he growled into her ear and pressed his hips against hers.

Cutting his losses with the shower his feet carry him out of the bathroom, continuing down the hall. He’ll just have to use the shower in the master bedroom’s bathroom. Taking a shower with the missus doesn’t sound too bad actually. As he continues around the corner he pauses at the kitchen. Where she had said those three little words the first time.

He had been making breakfast for the two of them wearing an apron she got for him, it was supposed to be a joke but it was rather practical and worked well so he kept it. The white fabric stood stark against his dark sweatpants, red kiss marks covering it in a tacky pattern and the words ‘kiss the chef’ embroidered on the front. The apron, the lack of clothing underneath beside his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his missing mask, and how he was making breakfast all painted him in a domestic light he wasn’t sure he was ready for then. Yet, the way hands slipped under the front of his apron, feeling up his chest from behind dulled any thoughts of stopping what was in motion. “You’re supposed to be asleep,” he had grumbled, grumpy that his in-bed breakfast was ruined. “Aw, are you making me breakfast?” She teased, a warm smile encompassing her lips. He felt her head peer around him to see what he was making and let his eyes drift down to her. She looked so pretty, so full of life. With one hand on her hip, he had directed her body to stand in front of his. His arms caged her in on either side as he continued to push around the scrambled eggs in the pan. “No,” he lied, though the small twitch at the corner of his lips betrayed him. “You were!” She gasps with an airy laugh. Her arms wrap around his midsection, her soft body pressing into his. He pretended to not feel her eyes drinking in every detail of him, by staying focused on cooking. “I love you, Simon” she blurted out suddenly in a soft whisper, drawing his gaze quickly down to her. She had the widest smile he’d ever seen, looking up at him like he could be the man who deserved her. “You um… don’t have to say it back. That’s okay if you need time. I’m sorry, it just slipped out,” she had started to nervously ramble. She wasn’t wrong, he wasn’t ready to say it back, but that didn’t mean his heart didn’t flutter hearing her say it so he did all he could think of at that moment. He bent at the waist and brought his lips to hers to hush her silly apologies for giving him exactly what he needed. He turned off the stove before his hands slid over her hips lifting her onto the countertop. He couldn’t get enough of her, he filled his senses with her in every way he could. Smelling in her soothing scent, feeling her plush curves, tasting her sweet arousal between her thighs, hearing those soft gasps of his name. When he had wrapped her thighs around his hips and pushed his cock deep inside her tight heat he had grunted into her warm skin, letting out heavy exhales as he demanded, “Say it again.” She had paused, having to take a moment to process what his request meant, but was interrupted by his hips drawing back and snapping into her. “Say that you love me again,” he clarifies as his hips work up into a steady rhythm slapping into hers. “I love you, Simon, I love you, I love you,” she chanted eagerly as his commands for more melted into pleas. “That’s it, gonna come undone for the man you love?” He had growled, hand drifting down to rub at her sensitive clit until she was throbbing around him. She let out hiccuped moans as she nodded her head quickly. When she did, melting completely into him he was starstruck. Watching her pretty face flush, her mantras of declarations of love, her hands grip at him as if willing this moment to never end. To be honest, he never wanted it to end either.

His gaze drifts from the stove over to the door by the little cabinet where two dog bowls sit, one for water and one for food. Pieces of dog food surround the bowl, no doubt scattered about from Riley.

He had just gotten back from the store when he stepped into the kitchen to come face to face with a dog he definitely didn’t remember getting. The dog looked like a mutt, some mix between a Lab and a German Shepherd maybe, he wasn’t sure. The dog had sat there, staring back at him with a slight tilt in his head. He felt like he was in a stand-off in his own home. Until his missus came in the room, her brows lifting as she took in the two staring at each other. “Isn’t he cute?” She chirped happily. He felt his eyes narrow before snapping over to her and losing the staring contest. “Absolutely not,” his words were firm, knowing exactly where this was going. “Oh please, please, I found him on my way home. I couldn’t just leave him!” She whined, immediately putting on the full works as she dramatically pressed her hands together in prayer. “So you stole someone’s runaway dog.” He responded, still unconvinced. “No, I checked. No tags, no collar, and no missing dog posters, checked all the local social media groups for missing pets. He’s a true stray.” His eyes narrowed further trying to come up with another excuse. He needed something fast as those sweet pleading eyes and pouting lips were swaying him more than he cared to admit. “Plus… it’ll be nice to not be alone while you’re overseas.” She said softer, a hint of the loneliness that she felt while he was away seeped through her words. His face softened, there was no arguing with that. She grinned in her victory as she crouched down to scratch behind the dog's ears. “You’re one of us now, a Riley,” she hummed.

Honestly, Riley turned out to be a good dog. The pup grew on him. He continues out of the kitchen into the hallway, spotting his favorite commodity in the house, the thermostat. He knows it may be a little wrong how he used it to manipulate, but he will never regret keeping his missus by his side.

He remembers the first big argument they had. He had to stop by a military base near home to drop off some paperwork and got distracted helping out a newer drill sergeant getting the newbies under control. This was a rare occurrence as he didn’t have much business on military bases stationed near home, plus he wasn’t on deployment, but up until that point, he didn’t realize how much she struggled at home when he was gone. His being late for their date night just was the straw that broke the camel's back. She stood there tapping her foot with tear-filled eyes as soon as he got back. He had tried to explain but realized it was no use. She wasn’t mad he was late, she was upset at how even in the small amount of time she did get him home he still was late. He got defensive, snapping back, “That’s my job, lass, you knew you were getting with a soldier from the start.” His words, dismissive of her emotions caused her tears to finally spill over before she stomped off. Fuck he felt miserable, he could see her side he just wasn’t used to having to consider someone else in his decisions. Even then simmering in his guilt he had no clue how to approach her first. It was at that moment he spotted the thermostat and got an idea. Sure enough, as the house started dropping to chillier numbers over the next hour, not outright cold but definitely chilly, she had come stumbling out of the bedroom wrapped up in her blanket like a cocoon. “I can’t sleep,” she had said so softly he felt guilty, really he did. But not enough to stop when she’d always come to him, trying to soak up his body heat. Then he’d atone every time, pulling her into his lap and pressing soft kisses to her chilled face and chilled hands while apologizing for earlier. And that night of their first blow-up he had finally said the words he had been mulling over for weeks, “I love you,” he whispered so quietly into her hair he wasn’t sure she heard or not until her pretty eyes lifted to his.

He continues to pass the thermostat through the hallway leading to their bedroom and steps past the reading nook he built for her. A comfy little bay window bench across from a stuffed bookshelf. The bedroom door lies just ahead.

“You gonna sleep here or something?” He asks with a hint of amusement. She hasn’t left the nook since he finished early this morning and Riley stayed faithfully by her side at her feet. Her eyes are lifted toward the sky through the window glass. Ignoring his question she gives a gentle tug to his hand, pulling him down onto the bench with her. He relents, settling into the limited space by pulling her legs over his lap. His hand gently trails calloused fingers back and forth over her calves. “The stars are beautiful.” He tilts his head taking a gander at her view. “Same as every night,” he responds. His head settles straight again, eyes fixing on her. The moonlight bathed her in an ethereal glow that made his pulse flutter. “Do you ever wonder what exists beyond us?” She asks, her face relaxed but contemplative. He gives merely a moment before responding, “Not really.” He doesn’t mean it dismissively and it’s clear she doesn’t take it as such, her gaze flickering to him as she tilts her head a little. “Never thought about what heaven would be like if it’s real?” He gives a longer moment of silence this time, though he knows his answer right away. How could he not when it was staring right back at him so sweetly? “Heaven and hell are just words to me. You are the closest thing I’ll ever get to anything divine.” Her cheeks flush as heat rises, her lips twitching up into a smile she can’t stop even as she tries to force a playful pout. “You’re supposed to say, ‘Yes baby, we’ll live happily ever after in heaven together.’” She teases, goading more of his rare sweet words. His brows raise, but he doesn’t disappoint. “My Heaven is wherever you are.”

Finally reaching their bedroom his heart swells with excitement, he can almost feel her warm embrace now. Just knowing she's around the corner makes his heart flutter in his chest and his legs work a little faster. But a sound, so faint and broken, has his feet pausing in the doorway. “You said you wouldn't hurt me, you said-” fills the room in a drowning mantra. Croaks of agony tear through the air like blades slicing. His throat clenches and his body paralyzes as he spots the love of his life, crouched over clutching something to her chest. Riley lays beside her, furry eyebrows lifting with every nervous glance he gives her. His body lays into her, but their furry companion provides little comfort against her inferno. Big glossy tears streak her cheeks before pelting wherever they flee. Her hands tremble, twisting and clutching something she holds close to her chest. She rocks back and forth, trying to self-soothe but the sobs continue to wrack through her with an intensity that is only paused when a sharp bark fills the air. Riley stares him down in the doorway with piercing eyes, letting out a few more barks, but loyally does not leave her side. Her eyes, swollen and wet, lift to where he stands, where Riley is staring, but she looks through him as if he merely didn't exist. “There's nothing there, Riley,” she croaks, voice broken. It is only when her hands leave her chest to give Riley some soothing strokes does he sees what she was clutching. A silver glint catches his eye, smooth metal in an oval shape with the name Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley engraved in. His hand lifts to his chest where his dog tags should be hanging only to find the spot empty and one last memory floods his head.

Bullets whizz past in a frenzy as his boots kick up mud. With a thud he falls back behind the totaled car, taking shelter for some much-needed respite. He feels his lungs collapse, sealed shut for a few long terrifying moments before they open again for him to greedily suck air in. His arm jerks reminding him of the pain he should feel. But he doesn't, he just feels a rush of warmth, so much warmth spilling out of him. His eyes focus in and out before finally settling on his hand. Blood webs and drips between his fingers, soaking into his glove. With resolve, he presses it back to his side, just above his hips. As if he just needed to know what was happening before feeling it a throbbing burn spread from his waist up his spine. With a splutter, he coughed and felt the spray of crimson that followed. With a hitched breath his head thuds back against the cold metal, his eyes focusing up on the sky. The stars are just as beautiful as ever. His free hand drags it up to his vest. His arm feels impossibly heavy like someone poured concrete into his veins. His fingers stiffen brushing against his dog tags dangling around his neck, barely cooperating as he pushes open his favorite pocket. Gloved fingers pinch around smooth paper before falling down to his thigh. His eyes follow as another cough escapes his lips. His thumb brushes over the polaroid, eyelids growing heavy as he takes in the captured moment one last time. The warm smile that is waiting for him to come back home. “I’m coming, love, I’ll come home to you.”

[throughthetwistedmirror]

The Spoiled Treatment ~ *Jamil Viper*

Summary: Jamil works so hard for everyone he cares about. It hurts your heart that no one takes care of him in turn. That's why you take it on yourself to spoil him rotten.

Pairing: Jamil Viper X G/N!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Drabble

Word Count: 768

Warning: N/A

Masterlist

Taglist: @moonitsune @savanaclaw1996 @goseew

A/N: This is a request!

Jamil worked harder than any other Scarabia student you knew and it broke your heart. You understood why he did it; his family worked for Kalim's and he cared very much for the future of his dorm, though he'd never admit it out loud. But that didn’t mean he needed to work himself half to death. So you came up with a brilliant plan in an effort to help him relax.

When he woke up on the day of your plan, you surprised him with breakfast in bed. Instantly, he was suspicious of your behavior and your motives.

"What's all this?" He skeptically asked, staring at the food before him.

"Well, you do so much for Kalim and the rest of the students in Scarabia, but you never take any time for yourself." You sheepishly explain, shifting your weight from foot to foot. "So I thought I would do something special to show you how much we all appreciate you. And before you ask, Kalim is spending the whole day with his family back in Scalding Sands. The rest of Scarabia is out of the dorm as well. It's just you and me, and I am determined to spoil you rotten today!"

"But-"

You held the food you made for him up to his nose to stop him from protesting. "You can't back out of this, Now, eat up! We have a long day of doing nothing ahead of us!"

Though he seemed reluctant, Jamil finished his meal, which made you smile as he admitted to how delicious it was. Following breakfast, you brought him to one of the spare dorms that was used for the many guests that come over at the request of Kalim. You had completely transformed the room to look like a day spa. It was a lot of work and it was all done behind Jamil's back, but you were proud of what you accomplished. Jamil, on the other hand, was a little annoyed, but let it slide because of the puppy dog eyes you flashed at him.

He enjoyed a warm, relaxing bath as you gently washed his hair. When he changed into a fluffy robe, you brushed and braided his hair with deft fingers.

"You're pretty good at this." He mused as he let your fingers run through his soft, silky hair. "I might just have to ask you to braid my hair more often."

"I'd be honored." You gushed before tying off and beginning to massage his shoulders. 

He flinched at your touch. "What are you doing now?"

"I'm sure you're all wound up tighter than a clock and I was right. I'm just trying to ease some of the tension in your shoulders." You explain. "Just relax, please. Today is all about you."

It turns out, it was a lot harder to get him to relax than you anticipated. He was so jumpy every time you tried to do something nice for him. He also looked guilty when he thought you weren't looking, as if he should be helping you in some way. But you would not be deterred. You were going to show him how much you appreciated him because he deserved it.

You gave Jamil a mani-pedi and a hand massage. You allowed him to assist you with making lunch and he was definitely in his element as he showed you how to make traditional dishes from Scalding Sands. You couldn't stop complimenting him on his amazing cooking skills and his blush made you praise him even more.

After lunch, the two of you built a pillow fort, which was pretty elaborate thanks to Kalim's obsession with pillows. When you both were settled in comfy clothes and full of snacks, you turned on a movie marathon. As the hours ticked by, you watched as Jamil became more and more relaxed. It seemed your plan was finally working.

Dinner consisted of more comfort food for Jamil before you led him outside to stargaze. You both told stories about the stars above, leaning against each other, cuddling under a blanket. You almost fell asleep listening to the sweet lull of his voice, when you were startled by the sound of fireworks.

Jamil smirked and pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "What a finale, I must say."

You shook your head. "The fireworks weren't me."

He furrowed his brows before realization dawned on both of you at the same time. "Kalim."

A laugh escaped you. "Of course! I should've known!"

"Still," He pulled you closer. "Thank you."

"Of course." You nod and kiss him. "Anything for you."

[mockerycrow]

You’re Alive (Gaz x GN!Reader)

gaz masterlist - gazfest 2023 @glitterypirateduck

PROMPTS: “One-shot” + “Safe House” + “Let Me See You”

SUMMARY: After receiving a facial scar, you have been jumpy—Kyle is here to show you that’s it’s all okay.

A/N: Honestly, I’m not the happiest with this but I decided to stop being picky with it!! So I hope my contribution to gazfest is satisfactory <3

[WARNINGS: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, moderate descriptions of gore, allusion to PTSD.]

Your leg kept bouncing like whatever gnawing feeling in your gut wasn’t going to stop unless your leg was going a million miles per minute. The clock on the wall ticked every second oh so quietly, and it was overall silent aside from the ticking and your body squeaking. You felt like a live wire attached to a brick of dynamite, ready to explode at any given time—ready to kill whoever holds the brick. Despite it being an hour or two since you and Kyle arrived at the safehouse, you remain at the only window in the entire building. In your arms rests your rifle with your safety switched to “semi” for semi-automatic, like you’re expecting someone to come barreling in through the door, or come through the tree line.

Kyle doesn’t blame you for the way you have been acting, honestly. He knows you’ve been different since you got your facial scar a few months back—you were required to go through a psychological evaluation to be deemed fit for duty, and it’s moments like this where Kyle—guiltily—wonders how you passed “with flying colors”, so the doctor said. He doesn’t understand how the Captain hasn’t see your behavior either, or if he has, he hasn’t done anything about it. Kyle means well about all of this, too. He’s worried about you. He’s seen the way your eyes scan every room, the way you’re too ready to raise your weapon to kill, the way you snarl at anyone who is casually holding a knife outside of combat.. There’s so many signs pointing to something, a deeper problem, that he is wondering how the psychologist still has a job.

You’ve begun to wear a mask that obscures your face from your nose down.

You offered to take first watch—he notes that you’re like Ghost in that regard, you can’t calm down after a highly intense situation, so you gotta do what you gotta do, right? But the way you’re so.. jumpy, you keep jolting and looking at Kyle every time he shifts, making a slight noise?—that’s concerning. He’s used to Ghost’s incredible alertness, the way he doesn’t like his back faced to the door of the rooms he enters, Kyle is used to when Ghost sits in the far corner so he can see every inch of the room—but he was terrified when you began to do it, too. You’ve always been vigilant, sure, but you’re.. Something is very wrong.

Kyle watches from his spot on the ragged, torn couch that had to be taken from the curb in a nearby neighborhood. His own rifle is propped up against the couch, his pistol resting on the coffee table in front of himself. He watches the way your eyes flicker across the skyline, the puffy eyebags you have almost seem like they’re worsening by the moment. Kyle is also exhausted—you two have been traveling from safehouse to safehouse for about a week, trying to meet up with the rest of the task force.. With no support, of course.

He calls your name, and he makes a mental note of how your finger twitches closer to the trigger than before. “You need to rest.” He grunts out, pushing himself off of the couch. Kyle turns and grabs his rifle, holding the hefty weapon to his chest as he naturally copies your perfectly practiced pose. He looks up and looks at you—and you haven’t moved a muscle. “Hey, y’hear me?” Kyle voice is laced with concern as he takes his steps towards you, and he makes the mistake of tapping your shoulder—because suddenly he’s facing the silencer of your semi-automatic rifle. Cold panic shoots through his veins and his gut, his muscles going rigid as if he’s a deer in headlights. His eyes search for yours, locking eyes; and you’re out of it. He knew something was wrong.

“Oi,” Kyle speaks with the softest tone he can manage with a gun nearly pressing into the bridge of his nose. “Oi, it’s me. Gaz, mate. It’s Kyle.” Your eyes search his face desperately, and he’s silently begging for you to speak. The tension in his stomach is twisting and turning, threatening to snap—you show no signs of any recognization of him, someone who you have trusted for years by this point, someone who was the one to get your guts inside of your abdomen after an ambush, the one who held your face together after the attack—

Kyle does things before he thinks about it sometimes, and it seems to happen a lot more often with you than anyone else, so he’s silently cursing himself out when he slowly raises a hand to your cheek—his heart pounding against his rib cage, like it’s screeching to escape and run away. He has a rifle pressing against his nose, nearly right between his eyes, and what does he do? Kyle holds your covered cheek, his gloved hand cradling it just like how he did when he found you. Your eyebrow muscles punch inwards for a moment, your eyelids fluttering from the touch.

He watches the way your eyes scan his face, the way you’re trying to decipher whether he’s friend or foe—and he sees it when you know it’s him. Your eyes widen every so slightly and your rifle trembles in your grasp, lowering it and you flip the safety back on. “Gaz, I..” You croak for a moment, taking a small step back. Kyle let’s out a breath he didn’t he was holding, along with all of that tension holding up in body. He reaches for you again as you pinch the bridge of your nose, one of his hands swiftly taking the rifle from you, the other gently cradling your cheek again. “Shh, it’s alright,” He murmurs, his stomach tightening with anxiety. Your eyes fall closed for a moment as Kyle lets your rifle drop to the ground next to where both of you stand.

“It’s alright.” Kyle repeats, his other hand coming up to cradle your other cheek. You ever so slightly flinch in his touch, but you don’t pull away. Your hands come up to cover his own, a choked noise leaving your throat. “Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe.” His lips are next to your ear now, voice dripping like honey into your eardrums, trickling down your spine with a warmth only he’s been able to provide for you. You can borderline feel his heat from beneath his gloves, seeping into your skin from on top of your mask, too. It grounds you enough for you to take a wonderfully oxygen filled breath.

“There y’go, yeah..” Kyle praises you softly, the air from between his lips brushing against your ear and causing you get goosebumps. You inhale once again, slower and deeper—and you get the comforting scent of Kyle, mixed in with the sweat and dirt. Nonetheless, it’s something you find extreme comfort in. As Kyle brings you down from your panicked feelings, he’s swaying you ever so slightly. After you let out a soft shuddering breath, he pulls away from your ear. “Let me see you,” He whispers, causing your eyes to shoot open, scanning his face with panic. You begin to shake your head but his hands remain in place. Kyle’s hands don’t move to remove your mask, as he’s always been good with your boundaries—but his eyes are pleading you.

“Please.” You lock eye contact with him as you debate this; you haven’t showed your face willingly since you were in the hospital, right? You began to cover your face as soon as you could without medical repercussions. You keep scanning his eyes, his muscles in his face, and then it hits you—Kyle doesn’t beg you of anything—the last time he saw your face, was when it was split in two, when he was holding your face in place. You know the attack fucked with him, too. Your barracks were next to his, and after the attack, you were hyper-vigilant. You woke up from every noise, and every night—you heard him stumble out of his room, always at night. Panicked.

You take a slow, deep breath—and you nod. You close your eyes, trying to give yourself some comfort. You feel his fingers hook into the soft material of your mask, and he pulls it down to under your chin. You don’t open your eyes just yet, but you can’t help the small flinch when you feel his gloved thumb trace part of your pink scar that’s deep in your lip. Your heart is hammering in your throat as his finger continues to slowly follow the scar’s path, from your bottom lip trailing to your nose, rearing a gory right, a deeper part of the scar scaling through your right cheek, and taking a harsh upwards turn, just narrowly missing your eye, but cutting deep into your eyebrow.

“There you are.” He whispers, his voice barely steady. Your eyes flutter open and you look at Kyle, and your eyebrows raise ever so slightly at the sight of tears brimming in his own eyes, pure relief all over his expression. “Thought I lost you forever, huh?” Kyle tries to laugh, but his voice cracks, causing a rare laugh to be pulled out of your chest. You reach up and your breath hitches as you wipe away a tear that had begun to slide down his cheek. “I’m.. I’m okay, Kyle.” You respond and he shakes his head, sniffling for a moment, his eyes tracing every part of your face, like you’ll disappear again. “You aren’t,” He confirms. “And that’s alright. You’re alive, and here with me, that’s enough for now.”

[oliversrarebooks]

walk home late at night

Masterlist

TW: mind control, hypnotic induction, blood drinking, nothing explicit but it's pretty horny

You're walking home from work late at night. You had to work overtime yet again, because your shitty boss forced a shitty deadline on you, and it's either work late or risk another bad performance review. Unfortunately, your need to make rent has to be prioritized over your need to sleep -- or else you won't have any more place to sleep.

The night is foggy and wet, almost like out of a suspense film, but you're too tired to indulge in much imagination. It's making your clothes and shoes damp and cold, which you do not appreciate in the slightest. At least you're not far, now. Only a few blocks.

As you pass under a flickering street lamp, you see the dark outline of a person in the space between buildings, and it startles you a bit. Probably nothing to worry about, probably just a loiterer or a homeless person. You're just jumpy because you're tired. You keep walking.

"Excuse me, dear."

The voice behind you is ethereal, neither male nor female, and almost seems to echo. It must be that person you passed a minute ago. A robber? Shit. You walk faster.

"Stop."

You stop. 

Your mind reels as it tries to catch up with what you've just done. Why did you stop? This is clearly bad news.

"Please face me while I'm addressing you, dear."

You're turning around. Just to see who this person is and what they want, since clearly they aren't leaving you alone. Yes, that is the reason. "Who are you?"

"Silent, dear. Still and silent for me."

"I --" Your words die in your throat. Your muscles relax, like sliding into a warm bath. What's happening to you? It feels like a dream.

"Oh, dear," says the mysterious figure with a soft chuckle. "It seems you've already fallen under my power." They raise one hand and flutter their fingers downward, like rain, and your eyes follow. "Under my power. Deep, deep under my power."

It's like... your mind... shifts downwards. It feels so nice. But this isn't right. You have to get away from here -- you have to flee --

"So still, dear, so silent. Your limbs so heavy. Falling down, down, down." They flutter their fingers back and forth, and you feel yourself swaying along with it. "That's a lovely pet."

You're -- you're not a pet. You need to leave. But it's like your mind has disconnected from your body, and your body feels far too relaxed, like you've been hit with a tranquilizer. Tranquilized, yes, that's exactly how it feels.

"Come closer now, dear." With both hands, they beckon you closer. You take one step, then two, sleepwalking forward. "Closer and deeper under my power. Closer and deeper. Deeper and closer."

You can feel it. With every clumsy, sleepwalking step, your mind is draining away, your thoughts of escaping growing further and fuzzier. Distantly, you know that something bad will happen when you're in this strange person's clutches, but you can't stop yourself.

"Deeper under my power," says the echoing voice. You're so close now, in arm's reach, and the figure cups their hand under your chin and draws you in the rest of the way. Their touch feels electric, making you shiver with pleasure. 

"That's a most excellent pet. Good, good pet," they praise, and the warmth of the praise spreads through your body. The thoughts of wrong, wrong, wrong are dimming as they pet your head as though you are a puppy.

Their fingers lift your chin, and you find yourself gazing into their deep, dark eyes. You can almost see stars in them, swirling and dancing, so beautiful. "That's right, dear pet. I need you to look into my eyes, now. Look deep, deep into my eyes," they say. "You're going to start to fall into a hypnotic trance for me. Deep, deep into trance."

Hypnotic... trance... there's a brief struggle in your mind.

"Yes, dear, you're being hypnotized. You're already starting to get sleepy, so very sleepy. Getting so sleepy as you look deep into my eyes, so sleepy as I sink you into hypnosis. So, so sleepy."

The sleepy, drowsy feelings are overwhelming. You can't think any more. You feel your body slumping, and they catch you in their arms and hold you upright so you can keep staring into those eyes. So hypnotized... so sleepy...

"Keep gazing into my eyes, dear. You're getting so, so sleepy. It's time for foolish little pets like you to go to sleep and surrender to me. Go to sleep, dear, a deep, hypnotic sleep. You're so, so drowsy. So hypnotized. Practically asleep already." Their eyes seem to get even closer and brighter. "Far too sleepy to resist, dear, too drowsy to fight it. All you can do is look into my eyes, let yourself be hypnotized, and go to sleep, deep, sweet sleep."

They're right. You're far too sleepy to stop this from happening. You're already so hypnotized, and they're so, so powerful.

"Your eyes want to shut, don't they, my pet? Yes, of course they do. They crave sleep so badly. Your mind desires sleep. Your mind wants to be hypnotized, wants to lower all its defenses and just relax. Yes, relax your mind for me, dear, let me soothe it to sleep. Your eyelids are drooping, pet. They're closing. You're losing control. You're surrendering. You're surrendering to sleep and to hypnosis, more sleepy and hypnotized by the minute. Isn't that right?"

Your head bobs forward, nodding in response to your master's question.

"Good pet, good, good pet. Let me put you to sleep now, dear. You're going to go to sleep and surrender your hypnotized mind to me. It's only right for a foolish little pet like you, so utterly helpless. Go to sleep, dear. No more fighting your heavy eyelids. No more resisting your drowsy mind. You can't stay awake any longer."

Your vision blurs, your eyelids almost closed. The urge to give in and sleep is so powerful. You can't even remember why you were trying to stay awake.

"Sleep, my pet. Sleep and surrender. Sleep and submit. Sleep and be hypnotized." Their voice goes lower. "I'll take such good care of you while you sleep."

A soft, quiet noise escapes your lips as you fall forward into the mysterious figure's arms, head resting on their shoulder, fast asleep. Their hand rubs your back in a slow circle.

"Good, good, my pet, my thrall. Sleep so deep in hypnotic trance. You won't remember any of this, my dear. You won't remember a thing. You're going to sleep and forget... sleep and submit... sleep and let down every defense while I feed."

Your sleeping, defenseless mind absorbs the commands to forget. In your trance state, you can feel cold fingers tilt your head and run down your neck. 

"You will submit," says the echoing voice at your ear. "You will remain completely asleep and completely hypnotized while I drink my fill from you. There will be no pain, only sleep and submission. Do you understand, my dear thrall?"

"Yes... master..." you whisper.

"Very good," they purr. "Now relax and be especially still. Good pet."

Your breath catches in your throat as you feel sharp fangs at your neck. Despite what your master just said, there is a brief moment of pain, followed by a strange warm sensation as they begin to drink from the punctures on your neck. You can feel yourself bleeding, feel their tongue and their fangs as they lap at your precious blood, feel yourself surrendering utterly.

The warmth from the wound is spreading through your body, and when it hits your brain, there's a wash of intense bliss that makes you shiver and release a low moan, a small part of your mind embarrassed as you fall apart to the sensation. Your master chuckles. "Enjoying yourself, my thrall?"

"Yes, master," you respond immediately.

"Very good, pet, you're so hypnotized and submissive for me, aren't you?" They lick at the wound on your neck. "Perhaps I'll keep you, after all. Do you want to be kept? Do you want to go home with me?"

You know the right answer. "Yes, master."

"If you insist, my hypnotized and helpless little thrall." They nurse the wounds for another moment, before whispering once more in your ear. "Go deeper asleep now. Do not resist the hypnosis. You belong to me."

There's nothing left in you to resist. Your body goes limp and lifeless as your master picks you up in a princess carry, the cool evening breeze on your face as they whisk you off to god knows where.

Masterlist

[yesimwriting]

Importance

a/n i don't even feel the need to justify my taste in evil men anymore lmao, here's a drabble as i try to figure homelander's 'voice' :))

Summary: Homelander begins to reflect on your sort of friendship when you come over to watch a scary movie.

Warnings/info: me writing for a character for the first time so pls be nice

----

Humanity's connection to fear has always been a subject of fleeting interest to him, a concept that's only occasionally managed to become more than a shift of hormones and heart rate.

Now, though, with your legs pulled beneath you on his couch, body angled towards him, yet eyes still glued to the screen, Homelander can't believe he's never given this kind of adrenaline a second thought.

"You okay?"

The question seems to bring you back, your head turning towards him. "Yeah." What the response lacks in certainty, it makes up for in determination. He can see it in your soft nod, in the way your fingers press into your knees.

The nerves you're doing your very best to hide are so different from your usual demeanor. An investigative journalist who's always running headfirst into danger, who never lets fear of retaliation get in the way of your writing, can't get through a scary movie. It's such a prevalent dichotomy, Homelander has to work at keeping himself neutral, at remaining focused on what's in front of--

"Stop," you mumble, the word far from harsh.

He lifts a shoulder in a partial shrug without removing his arm from the back of the couch. "Stop what?"

You tilt your chin downwards, your lips pulled into the start of a pout as you attempt a glare. The expression is so particularly you, it briefly seizes some remote, unnamed aspect of his being that lives deep inside of his chest. "Stop making fun of me--I told you, horror movies make me so jumpy, none of my other friends will watch them with me anymore."

Other friends. The reminder of the others that get to be recipients of your kind smiles and reassuring glances is usually enough to taint his mood, but there's a warmth to the phrase that redeems the sentiment entirely. He's more than a friend, he's the only one that's here for you.

Homelander straightens slightly, arm shifting forward until his fingertips are against your shoulder. For the briefest second, there's an increase in your general tension, a stillness that doesn't suit you. The implication of tension digs at him--he's been this close to you before, closer even.

Before the thought of rejection can fully latch onto him, you're easing, spine relaxing against the couch's cushioning. The new position is enough encouragement for him to continue, his palm coming to rest against the fabric of your shirt, the loose collar letting the side of his hand feel the warmth of your bare collarbone.

He remains steady, leaning into what he knows as he offers you one of his more subtle, yet openly heroic smiles. It's the kind of look he'd use to comfort an almost-victim, the gentle curve of his lips a silent promise. I'm here. You're okay now.

You watch him in that way of yours--eyebrows drawn together and eyes bright yet not exactly admiring in the way that he's accustomed to. His inability to understand that particular look is what drew him to you in the first place.

"I'm not making fun of you," he says, voice leaving no room for argument, "I'm just making sure you're okay. It's why you wanted to watch this with me, right?"

It's not so much an exaggeration as it is a stretching of context. You had mentioned wanting to watch the movie, but not loving the idea of watching it by yourself. You hadn't meant anything by mentioning it during your coffee shop catch up, you never do. Your words are usually free of both probing and placating subtext.

"I wanted to watch this with you because we're friends." There's a genuineness to the correction that jabs at him. He has no response, but you don't seem to mind the silence.

A high pitched scream and a flash of color has your attention drifting towards the screen. Your adrenaline spikes, a fact you attempt to dismiss by leaning into his touch. "It's nice of you to check in, though."

The acceptance leaves him feeling a little warmer than he did a moment ago. You have a way of doing that. "It's what I'm here for."

You look away from the screen, the corner of your mouth tugging itself upwards. "All in a day's work for America's favorite hero."

"This is top priority."

You let out a breath that feels like more of a laugh. "I feel important."

The movie steals your focus, a fact that a part of Homelander is grateful for. You're too distracted to think of what contemplating your value might do to him. He swallows, a pointed dismissal of the uncomfortable feelings probing at his chest.

You move slowly, legs straightening and feet finding the floor. Before Homelander can overthink the changes, you lean towards him, your head coming to rest against his shoulder.

[floating-mid-air]

Safe and Sound

-

Fun Fact: Future Trunks was my first love as a kid, so it's nice to finally write something with him in it. This is also a bit shorter than my usual fic length, but I'm happy with how it turned out. As always, DM's/Comments are always open if you have any comments, questions, or concerns. 

-

Masterlist

-

Paring: Future Trunks X F Reader

-

You slide the glass door open, stepping out onto the balcony. The crisp air of the night sends chills down your spine. Gently, you shut the door, not wanting to wake Trunks. You lean over the wooden railing, taking a deep breath, the fresh air invading your lungs. It's been a long day… a constant string of lengthy, neverending days. Bleeding into even worse nights.

You shift your gaze upwards, staring at the night sky. Small amounts of light illuminate from the stars, with no moon in sight. You weren't able to sleep. You never can, tossing and turning for hours before coming outside. Nights are just always the worst. Nothing is worse than absolute silence, with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company. 

Your heart flutters, your entire body growing stiff, as a loud creak comes from behind. Your body enters fight or flight mode, and in a split second, you instinctively press a button on your watch. A gun materializes from it, appearing in your hands. You aim it straight at the figure's head. "Woah, easy there." A familiar voice invades your ears. You immediately recognize the man standing in front of you as Trunks, his blue hair tousled, giving him a charming case of bedhead. Trunks holds up his hands. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

You sigh in relief, slowly bringing the gun down. Your hands tremble with every movement. "Fuck… sorry." You call out faintly, pressing the button once again. The weapon disappears from your hands. He takes a few steps towards you till he's standing right by your side. "Did I wake you?"

"No, not exactly." The blue-haired man shakes his head. "I just… can't sleep when you're not beside me." You turn to him, taking in his features. His blue eyes lack their typical shine, with notable bags under them. It looks like he hasn't slept in weeks. Your relationship with Trunks is complicated. You've never really had the time or the luxury to define it. Sometimes, you feel like a couple… other times, you feel like strangers. And yet, every night, you're beside him. Whether you sleep or not.

 "Rationally, I know we're not in danger," You mutter, turning back to the scenery. "But… every time I close my eyes. I see it. I see… him. It's like he's haunting me."

Trunks places his larger hand atop of yours, gently stroking it with his thumb. "I know what you mean. I get jumpy every time Goku's in the room." There's something about his touch that puts you at ease. Even the simplest gesture can calm your mind. He somehow always knows exactly what you need. You tilt your head, resting it on his broad shoulder. "We're timelines away. You're safe. We're safe."

"I know…" You speak softly, leaning on him. "It just feels like we can never catch a break. Things are too quiet; it's unnerving. There's this small voice in my head that won't shut up. Everything is just too… good."

"We deserve good. After everything we've been through." He intertwines his hand with your own, his long fingers tangling with yours. "There's been so many days… where I didn't think I'd wake up the next. I'm not sure if there will ever be a day when I'm not on edge. I know it's hard… but we can finally breathe for once."

"I don't know if I can. I feel like I'm always looking over my shoulder. Just waiting for the next awful thing to happen." You take a deep breath. "Though, there is one thing that makes me happy here."

"Yeah?" His eyebrows shoot up, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "What's that?"

"Well, it's us. Well, technically, not us. But the younger versions of ourselves." There's a piece of you that envies your younger counterparts. But it's greatly outshined by the comfort you find in it. They get to have the childhood you never had. "They're just so happy and carefree."

"I know what you mean. They get to have the lives we never had the chance to live." He laughs. "Though, they don't seem to like each other much." You've noticed that, too. The pair do not get along at all. You've seen them interact a handful of times. Little Trunks usually sticks to Goten like glue. Opting to stay away from the younger you. 

Several times, you've watched the miniature versions of yourselves fighting. Both physically and verbally. You'll never forget the looks on their faces when they found out that you and Trunks are kind of an item. They were appalled; it was hard for the kids to understand how any version of themselves could end up together. You, however, find all of their interactions adorable. But at the same time, it's a bit strange. It's like watching yourself... but it's an entirely different version of you. You see bits and pieces of yourself in her, but it's also like she's a completely different person. She looks like you did; she sounds like you did, but she hasn't had to grow up fast like you did. So maybe that's where the discrepancies stem from.

"Well, yeah," You grin. "The whole apocalyptic society made you so much less annoying."

He lightly swats your arm. "You're such a jerk," you giggle at his words. "But you're my jerk." 

"Ya… I guess I am." You sigh. Trunks is your rock. He's your stability. You haven't had a home in a long time… but your home is with Trunks. Whether it's a destroyed society or an alternative timeline. He's all you need.

"Hey..." He calls out to you softly. "Talk to me. I wanna know what's going on in that gorgeous head of yours."

"It's just. I wanna be carefree like that." You squeeze his hand, desperate to feel him closer. "I don't want to have to fear for my life... or yours ever again. First, it was the androids. And now it's that monster. It feels like it'll never end. Even if Goku and your father help us and take down Black. It feels like there will be something else around the corner."

"Hey, listen to me," he whispers, cupping your face with his hands. The warmth of his hands envelops your cheeks. "We're safe. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You mean way too much to me. Everything I do. It's all for you… for us… for our future."

"You see a future with me?" Your eyes widen. 

"Are you serious? That's not even a question." The man scoffs at you. "I want you. I want to spend my entire life with you. And even after that. You're all I need."

"Trunks..." You breathly call out, your voice barely a whisper.

"I'm not done." He cuts you off. "I love you. And don't you ever forget that."

His words ignite a fire within you, filling your body with a warm sensation that causes your face to burn hot. "I... I love you too." Before you even know it, you're returning his affection. You know things will get better. As long as you have Trunks by your side. The first step to recovery for you is a sense of safety. And here in this moment, with Trunks by your side. You've never felt safer.

"Come on." He grabs your hand, pulling you back towards the door. "Let's get back to bed. We both need some sleep." He leads you back inside, straight to the bed. Maybe, for once, you'll actually get some much-needed sleep. 

[whumpback-wail]

05 - Divulgence

Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader) - TW/CW in masterlist

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IMPORTANT NOTICE: Reminder that this fanfic contains dark and mature themes. The TW/CW are in the masterlist and are constantly updated as I add each chapter. Please reread the warnings, proceed only after you reread the warnings. If you don't like/can't handle the topics mentioned in the TW/CW, please DO NOT read. This work is 100000% fictional and any similarities to real life people and events are purely coincidental, and none of the characters (especially the villains) are real. Again, please DO NOT read if you are not certain you can handle these topics or are in a bad place mentally. Minors are strictly forbidden. I only create content, and I am not responsible for your personal content preference and moderation.

They say being pregnant means everyday is another day closer to meeting the love of your life. One anticipates meeting the fruit of their love with their spouse, looking forward to the bright sunshine days of taking care of that precious someone.

(y/n) did not understand that feeling. In fact she felt the exact opposite, as she slid down the walls of the bathroom, legs too weak to support her own weight. The pregnancy stick in her hand fell to the floor, bouncing to a stop face up, showing the positive sign. Why does this happen to her? What did she ever do to deserve this?

She has to call nurse Komaki, she will know what to do. The thing was still a cell after all, with no soul not consciousness, it should be perfectly fine. It would be so much more cruel to keep the innocent being and let it be born, only for them to later be neglected and unloved. No child deserves that. Not even one born from being forced into her womb by the person she despised the most.

It was nearing lunch, and she knew her fiancé would be back by then, he always makes time to have lunch with her. She has to tell nurse Komaki fast.

(y/n) took several deep breaths to calm herself, and then slowly got up to her bed again, pressing the call button.

A few moments later, she heard the door open.

"Nurse Komaki, I-" (y/n) turned her head, and came face to face with a different nurse altogether. It was not Komaki.

"I'm sorry, nurse Komaki is away right now, her shift will start later tonight. Is there anything I can help you with, miss (y/n)?"

(y/n) blinked back her tears, "n-no. It's okay, nothing too serious."

The nurse stood there, contemplating. "Are you sure miss?"

(y/n) nodded, racking her brain to think of an excuse or anything to justify calling a nurse to her room for nothing. "oh umm… may I have some water please?"

"Sure. It will be delivered here in a moment. Don't hesitate to call me if there's anything else that you need, okay?"

(y/n) hummed and thanked her. She watched as the nurse exit her room. She wanted Komaki, she's the only nurse (y/n) trusted at this moment, especially with something like this.

It wasn't long until the water is delivered to her room, which arrived at about the same time as Wriothesley.

He greeted her with a smile. It normally made her feel safe and loved, but right now, (y/n)'s heart sank to her stomach

"Hey, how's my sunshine doing?"

He leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the forehead. Wriothesley knew he should be careful around her, as her therapist had suggested to him, at least until she is less jumpy and can initiate affectionate gestures more. So far she's taking his affections very well, which made him happy about her progress.

"As usual," (y/n) forced a smile, briefly looking into his eyes before quickly averting her gaze back to her hands. She picked at a loose string on her blanket. 

Speak more, he will notice something is off.

"The healers were a great help to my physical injuries. But they kept stopping after a little while, saying I should rest up because the sped up healing is also draining my energy."

Wriothesley nodded, "I was told, yeah. How's your stomach? Got anything you're craving to eat?"

(y/n) froze. "What?" She managed to not stammer, but her voice cracked as her heart was suddenly frozen with fear. Did he find out? How did he know-

"Just wondering how your stomach felt." Wriothesley tilted his head, confused. It was a small quirk she had found endearing.

"The doctors did say you can only eat soft food for a while to avoid refeeding syndrome, but yesterday you were finally allowed to start eating bread and some fowl. Also because you threw up yesterday."

"Oh…" (y/n) felt stupid, "it's alright now, although I don't really feel like eating."

Wriothesley watched her for a moment. He has always been someone perceptive, that's how he knew who to trust and who to avoid in meropide while still serving his sentence, and that's how he could rise through the ranks and become the duke, despite his humble beginnings. At that moment, something is off about his fiancée.

“Darling are you okay?” he took her hand in his, his other hand brushing loose strands of her hair behind her ear, “I feel like you have something weighing your mind. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

For a moment, (y/n) wavered. Is it really okay to tell him about her pregnancy? She knew Wriothesley wouldn’t blame her, after all, what happened was not something she wanted, far from it. So technically it’s not her fault right? But a small nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her to just keep it to herself for now. There were too many what ifs. It’s safer to just keep quiet about it and deal with it under wraps. She’ll tell him, of course she will, but not now.

“I’m fine,” she forced herself to look into his eyes, a small smile on her lips. “Just wondering how much longer I have to stay cooped up in here.”

Lunch went well with Wriothesley, he told her about his day. He went back to the Fortress of Meropide for a while, to keep an eye on how things are going there, before coming over to her for lunch. After this he planned to proceed with investigations, and perhaps wrap things up early so he could spend more time with her after dinner.

(y/n) managed to eat a little more, despite the anxiety induced nausea, at least enough to not make her look suspicious.

Once lunch was over, Wriothesley gave her another peck on the forehead and left to continue with investigations, with promises of taking (y/n) to the gardens near the hospital once the doctors gave her the clear, and perhaps visit Navia and Neuvilette, as the two are also her friend, as much as they are to him. He wanted more than anything to stay with her the whole time she recovered, but seeing how she often flinched if he moved a little too quickly, or how her eyes often went blank as if she was not really there, he knew he had to do something about it. The therapist assigned to her told him that she may need some time to process through the trauma, and that it was natural that she would be jumpy for the time being, and would need some space too, as stifling her would also be bad for her mental wellbeing.

He already discussed all the options, and what’s best for (y/n). Once (y/n) has recovered some more physically, and once she is ready, he would take her home and nurse her back to health. He would appoint someone else as the Duke of Meropide if that was needed to get him more time off. Right now, he has something else to do.

He did not tell her that he would be going back to the facility, specifically the hidden passage they found inside her cell. Chlorinde had done a great job in capturing the man, living up to her title of champion duelist.

The entrance was so well hidden in the room, so much so that they had to get Aether to use his elemental sight to find. They had followed the hidden maze-like pathway in the room (y/n) was kept in, and it had led them to an underground base, perhaps their real base of operations. Several men were captured, including Dougier, they seem to work directly with Arderne who unfortunately was nowhere in sight. They were all taken into custody. Wriothesley tensed as he remembered their findings.

"Wriothesley you might want to see this." He turned his head towards Neuvilette who a moment ago was rummaging through papers on a desk. The Iudex now held out a file towards him, his face grim.

The Duke took the file and opened it. There were more papers, this time it contained more detailed reports of experiments done to the people. He ruffled through the pages, skimming the words for one specific name. He found it.

Experiment Clearance Form

Title: Vision Trial Variation 2

Principal Investigator: Il Dottore

Assistant: Arderne

Subject: 1102 a.k.a. (y/n)

Vision: Pyro

This form acknowledges the approval of the experiment titled "Vision Trial Variation 2" conducted by Arderne. The experiment aims to implement the theory of vision injections on humans, followed by observation to discover the effects.

The experiment poses high risks to participants. Potential risks include memory loss, increased body temperatures, seizures, and the possibility of death. Steps have been taken to mitigate these risks. Subject is physically weakened before the start to lower the chances of the body rejecting the injection, thus increasing the success rate of this experiment. On the occasion that this experiment would fail, the study will move on to Vision Trial Variation 3, and the current subject will be discarded.

Fuck.

“Did we find any traces of Arderne?” Wriothesley’s voice dropped several octaves, Neuvilette knew what this meant.

“There are none so far,” he placed a reassuring hand on Wriothesley, “But we do have Dougier now, and we are taking him and the others to custody. We can get more information out of them-”

Wriothesley shook him off and landed a harsh kick on a table to the side, immediately breaking it. He wanted to murder them all, especially that bastard Dottore. He had heard rumours of him doing crazy experiments, but to think it happened right here in Fontaine, with his fiancee? His breaths were shaky with barely controlled rage.

“Wriothesley, I understand how frustrating this is. (y/n) is also my dear friend.” Neuvilette spoke in the most soothing tone he could muster up. “Trust me, I am just as upset as you are in this, but we have to keep a level head. For (y/n)’s sake and all the victims that were forced into this.”

They were deep underground, had they been up on the surface, they would see heavy rain mixed with snow, and thunderstorms raging outside, the weather mirroring the Iudex’s inner turmoil on the entire situation.

• • •

(y/n) wondered if she was dead or dreaming the moment she saw herself on the familiar bed of her room in the facility. Dr Arderne was standing at the foot of her bed reading through the information on his clipboard, while Dougier was securing her arms and legs with restraints.

She had been too weak to resist, having been starved for days without food, the only nutrition she got was through her IV drip and glasses of suspiciously blue coloured water, which she had no choice but to drink.

"Good morning 1102, ready for the next dose? Arderne readied a syringe. It was filled with shimmery red liquid, the glow seemed to pulse the closer it gets to her.

"F-Fuck you Arderne." (y/n) managed to mumble, making Dougier snicker.

Arderne held (y/n)'s arm and injected the contents of the syringe into her. At first it felt like nothing, but gradually she could feel it start to burn, as if fire was coursing through her veins.

It wasn't long until the burning sensation started to feel unbearable. Hot white pain spreads from the point of injection to all over her body. She bit her tongue, trying not to scream, she will not give them the satisfaction of seeing her in pain. She won't-

(y/n) jolted awake, her breaths heavy and ragged and her heart was pounding in her chest. Fuck.

It was a dream. She was safe. It was just a dream.

The room she was in, despite being a hospital room, it was completely different from the facility, with flowers her friends and fiancé got for her, and the comforting weight of her big blubberbeast plushie that Wriothesley brought from their bed at home. She hugged the plush tightly and pressed her nose to its soft fur. It smelled just like Wriothesley, as he had sprayed his cologne all over it, something she often did even before… all this.

(y/n) tried to remember what her therapist had told her. 

My name is (y/n), I am at the Fontaine hospital, guarded by the Spina di Rosula, Wriothesley stays with me during the night, and stops by for lunch. I am safe, and I am recovering.

Her therapist told her that her dreams would eventually go away as her mind heals, but how long will that take?

Glancing at the clock, she noticed it was still early, too early for Wriothesley to come back from his investigation. He had left a book with her some days ago, which she picked up and started to read, trying to get her mind off things.

As she reached for the book on her night stand, suddenly (y/n) felt the familiar tingle in her hands, running all the way up her arms. It was warm and welcoming, it felt like home. A split second later, the book she was reaching for suddenly burst into flames.

• • •

Wriothesley watched Neuvilette from behind the one way glass as the latter asked Dougier more and more questions. The Iudex had presented all the evidence they found on the table. Laying it all out for Dougier as he asked question after question that Dougier only gave vague answers to, sometimes only responding with chuckles. The scum was a goner, his mind seemingly corrupted by the facility.

He wanted to be the one who personally interrogates the vile man, but Neuvilette had forbidden him from entering, for fear of what Wriothesley would do to the suspect. Still, watching from behind the glass was frustrating, he wished Neuvilette would let them do interrogations in Meropide, where it was outside Fontaine’s jurisdiction, so they could use other means to get information.

“This is going nowhere,” Wriothesley mumbled and pushed open the door leading into the interrogation room. Fuck the consequences, he’ll probably just get an earful from Neuvilette later.

At the sight of Wriothesley, Dougier’s eyes lit up in a nasty way that the Duke did not like at all. “Ah your Grace, here to play the bad cop now?”

“Seeing how you’re going nowhere with Neuvilette, I might as well do.”

Wriothesley grabbed the chair at the corner of the room and dragged it over to sit beside Neuvilette, who was glancing at Wriothesley cautiously.

“So do you feel like talking now Dougier? I thought you were a changed man after you were released.”

Dougier only scoffed, “then I had you fooled. You have no idea what kind of grudge I hold against you, Wriothesley. You ruined the community I built in Meropide.”

“Community? You call that community? You basically started a cult, and no one liked being in there.” Wriothesley scowled.

“Nevertheless,” Dougier continued, “I had my revenge. You should have heard how much (y/n) screamed when Arderne injected her vision into her.”

Wriothesley froze. He knew about what happened but hearing it from Dougier was different from reading it on the files they found.

Dougier, seeing the change in Wriothesley’s demeanour, continued. “She was a brave one, that bitch. Endured hours upon hours of our treatment, sometimes without anaesthesia. And that was after we put her in solitary confinement. We were wrong thinking we broke her spirit already, and yet she’s still fighting.”

"And you did this to all the people in the Vision Trials?" Neuvilette asked, the pen in his hand moving to take notes.

Dougier ignored him, his eyes still glued on Wriothesley's.

"How can we reverse the vision injections?" Wriothesley asked, trying to keep his breathing steady. He knew he couldn't try anything with Neuvilette around.

"You'll have to ask Arderne for that," Dougier leaned back on his chair, "but all I know is while (y/n) is still alive, she's a failure. She had her vision inside her yet it never seemed to work, not even when we prompted her."

"What do you mean prompted her?" Neuvilette asked, and this time, Dougier turned his eyes to him..

"Oh we threatened her, and when it didn't work, beat her, did whatever to make her call on her pyro element and use the vision in her. That never seemed to work."

Wriothesley and Neuvilette were tense, the former had his fists clenched so hard.

"That was when I took her to the basement, the cold weather should prompt the vision to at least keep her warm." Dougier turned to Wriothesley, a deranged look danced in his eyes as he smiled at him.

"I can see why you like 1102. She was so brave. She never once begged or called out for you even with all the beatings, that is, until I put my cock inside her-”

Suddenly Dougier was on the ground. Wriothesley had moved so fast Neuvilette barely registered him vaulting over the table and landing a fist on Dougier's face. He managed to hammer down his fists onto Dougier some more before he felt multiple hands pull him backwards off Dougier, who was unconscious in a bloodied mess.

"GET OFF ME." He yelled at the gardemeks who held him back, but Neuvilette soon stepped in front of him, blocking his view of Dougier who was being tended to by medics.

"Wriothesley," his voice was stern, "the punching can wait until after his sentence. If he is sentenced back to Meropide then it is under your jurisdiction."

Wriothesley was breathing heavily, "he… he also… Archons, (y/n)..."

"I already let you land several hits on him" Neuvilette placed a hand on his shoulder, "but we need him alive for more information on the case, and for his trials."

Wriothesley watched, seething with rage as Dougier was taken away by the medics for further treatment. He wanted the scum to suffer as much as, if not more than (y/n). How could anyone do this to her?

Neuvilette sighed and motioned for the gardemeks to release Wriothesley, "I think it's best if you go visit (y/n) for now. I think you two need to talk."

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(;;;*_*)--c<ノ°益°)ノ _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):_

A/N

…now I'm sad... why do I do this to myself :") wrote this while hugging my blåhaj because I needed that warm shorky embrace.

(Tuna says hi :D and hopes everyone is okay after reading this)

I apologize for the late update, some parts of the chapter had to be rewritten to make more sense, but in the end it became longer than I planned (and I had to cut it here and continue next chapter)

Thanks for sticking around this long, I hope the update hurt you all as much as it did for me to write :"))) please stay safe and take care, and hug your pets/plushies for me 💕

P.s. I’m not sure how to write a proper experiment clearance form TwT I hope that wasn’t too off.

Taglist: @almosteggs @quuela @tempest1art @yamanaka13-blog @arseneumbra @kimmeaahh @cottonfluffs @randomidk-123 @applejayee @keigo-hawks-takami-simp @mechanicalbeat1 @aribae14 @bforbiblio @supernerdycookietrashblrr @furblrwurblr @chifuyus-kitty @bunnibabe @the-real-fandom-person

[gepardling]

captain's mercy w/ gepard.

desc. : I needed a day to cleanse myself after writing this. Gepard takes a step out of his comfort zone, but he kind of enjoys exerting some authority over you... (wc : 2k)

tags / cw : nsfw, afab!reader, fingering, overstimulation, crying :((, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it!), power play (?) kind of, gepard has you entirely at his mercy (willingly), one (1) spank, choking (not really, but worth the tag)

Spontaneity was never Gepard's strong point, and he was almost painfully aware of it. When he knew something was meant to happen, he needed to have utmost control over the situation. He needed to plan it out in his head ahead of time, laying out every single possibility and its outcome so that he could decide how he would handle the situation. But when Gepard was stripped of this control, he couldn't tell left from right or up from down, and everything in his mind became one jumbled, pretty kettle of fish. So, of course, he becomes a flustered, stammering mess when you confront him in the bedroom, saying that you didn't want things to proceed as they usually do. 

You were seated above him, holding both of his hands down by the wrists. There was a mischievous glint to your eyes that Gepard didn’t like one bit. He trusted you, but sometimes your antics could be… Concerning, to say the least. He felt a lump rise in his throat involuntarily, before he willed himself to gulp it down. Just the way you were staring at him alone was making his face light up in bright red. 

“I think that,” you finally began, breaking the tense silence that clung to the air like a vice. “You…” tantalizingly slow, you trail one of your nails up his chest, eyes following the motion before coming to rest on his lips, “Should treat me a little rougher tonight.”

Gepard’s eyes widened momentarily, flickering nervously around the room. “What do you mean by that?” he asks, attempting to mask the way his voice shakes with a quick cough. Though it’s hard to deny how he feels when he’s more than sure you can feel the way his veins pulse under his skin.

A gentle smile graced your lips, momentarily breaking your facade. “I don’t want you to be gentle tonight, Geppie,” you speak softly, but Gepard heard your voice loud and clear. Almost too loud, in fact, wincing the moment those words left your lips. You can’t help but let a small giggle slip at his jumpiness. He could be so cute sometimes, especially in vulnerable moments like these.

“What do you want me to do, then?” He asks, apprehension laced in his voice. For the first time, he was able to make proper eye contact with you, and you were certain you saw a glint of endearment in those sapphire eyes of his. 

You laid your head down on his chest, drawing small circles into his side with your fingertips. Your touch was enough to ignite thousands of tiny fires underneath his skin. “I need you to have your way with me,” you reply, laughing softly at the way his heartbeat sped up at your little request. “Treat me like one of your soldiers, Gepard.” 

Oh, okay then. There goes the last bit of control he thought he had over the situation.

“How do you want me to do that?”

“You know exactly how.” Your reply was sudden, without missing a beat. You sat upright once more before slipping off of him, taking your place to his side. His gaze followed your every move tentatively, watching you like a hawk. But all you did in return was smile up at him innocently, waiting for him to make the next move. “Well?” you ask, a teasing lilt to your tone, “You’re not just going to take my insubordination, are you?”

Insubordination… Well that was one way to put it. Slowly, Gepard shifted his weight, moving himself over you. Your head was caged between his arms as he looked down at you, studying your face for a hint of emotion, anything. But the moment he decided it was safe to move his head down to kiss you, you simply rolled over onto your tummy. Ah, so that’s how it’s going to be. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, lips pressed hotly to the shell of your ear. Every syllable sends a shiver down your spine, and there’s a certain heaviness to his tone that you can’t quite describe. The way his breath fanned the side of your face is enough to spark that little fire of desire in your core. When you simply refused to answer, instead closing your eyes and feigning sleep, Gepard could feel one of the many threads of his patience snap. Of all the places to feel like he’s doing his job, it had to be the bedroom. 

“I think I asked you a question,” he persisted, tone tinged with exasperation. Though his voice was steady, there was still a slight shake in the way his hand trailed down your lower back. It came to rest on your backside, unmoving but firm. When he pulled back, you braced yourself for the impact that never came and Gepard took notice of the way your shoulders tensed. He was never planning on hitting you in the first place, but when he turned his attention to your now-glistening cunt, he figured he knew why you reacted the way you did. 

The puzzle pieces are slowly beginning to fit together in his mind, and he starts to understand what it really is that you want him to do. He’d be damned if he didn’t try his best to deliver on your wishes, but the territory was a bit foreign to him. With a vice-like grip on your hips, he dragged them upwards and angled them down, leaving you ass up, face down on the mattress. You kept your lips pursed, waiting to see where he was going with this. 

Slowly, he pressed a palm flat against your cunt before gently trailing his fingers up and down your folds. One of them reached forwards, rubbing soft circles around your clit. Instinctively, you bucked your hips back against his hand, wanting to feel more of his touch. But Gepard pulled back instantly at your impatience, leaving you to whine weakly in protest. 

Gepard put his other hand back on your hip, tight grip holding you in place. His hand returned to your folds, slipping two fingers into your sopping cunt. You hissed at the intrusion, his cold fingers prodding around your walls in search of that one spot. When he pressed against it tentatively, your gentle sigh was telltale enough for him to continue. Gepard’s hand got to work, the rough pads of his fingers massaging your walls with every thrust. 

He quickly worked you up to your pleasure point, and soon the feeling became too much to bear. Your release coated his wrist in a sticky mess as he continues to work you open, fingers scissoring your walls with no sign of stopping. The air is filled with the melodic squelching of your cunt against his palm and your breathy squeals of pleasure, a tune that plays in sweet harmony in his mind. But he doesn’t stop at one orgasm, no, he keeps going. 

Two, three, four, you’ve lost count at this point. Your hand would’ve cramped up long ago, but Gepard’s stamina was seemingly unmatched. “P-Please,” Your voice breaks his concentration, a weak protest falling on his ears, “No more, please…” But your pleading is futile, and Gepard leaned over you to speak in your ear once more. 

“You told me to have my way with you,” He spoke, tone low and daring. “Good soldiers follow orders, isn’t that what you wanted?” It made the breath hitch in your throat as you meekly hid your face in the pillow, a vain attempt at escaping his calculating gaze. You shook your head, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you tried and failed to escape his hold. The weakness of your knees made you sob pathetically, and it felt like your body was betraying your every whim to escape the overwhelming feeling. 

“Too much,” you croaked, fighting back the tears that continued to well up in your eyes. You didn’t think that Gepard could be so relentless, especially after he seemed so hesitant to indulge your desires. Yet he persisted, ignoring your plea for mercy. In a final show of defiance, you pulled yourself from his grip, laying your tummy flat on the bed. Your cunt continued to throb with overstimulation, but the cramp in your knees was immediately soothed. Gepard, however, wasn’t too impressed with your disobedience. 

Though it wasn’t that hard, the sudden impact on your ass had you jolt, jittery veins of pleasure surging towards your core. “Seeing as you can’t take what’s given to you,” Gepard’s voice was cold, almost uncharacteristic of your normally-gentle lover. “You leave me no choice but to exert authority.” The clinking of his belt made your head perk up with a mix of apprehension and excitement before he pressed his hardness to your hot core. 

He put his hands on your hips, slowly dragging them back up from where they rest on the bed, before plunging his cock deep into your cunt. At this point, your mind was swimming with pleasure, choosing to embrace the way your cunt greedily sucked in his cock rather than fight against the stimulation. The first thrust made your head spin, but his pace remained slow, and you needed him deeper. "Captain," you called out airily, tilting your head back to look at him, "You can do better than that..."

The final thread of his patience snapped, and Gepard was just about done with your antics. He turned your head back to the front, before pushing it down to the pillow. "You're only to speak when spoken to," he bites back, shoving his cock deeper into your core. You could only whine pathetically at the way he stretched you open, adopting a much rougher pace. His hand trailed from your head towards your arm, grabbing your wrist and pinning it against your back.

He used his grip on your arm as leverage to piston his length in and out of your slippery cunt. The force he used made you keen, breathy gasps of pleasure mixing with the wet, vulgar sound of skin on skin. Gepard’s eyes were trained intently on the spot you two were connected, not paying much mind to the way you squirm in pleasure. When you did manage to catch his eye with a small cry of his name, he was quick to silence your pleas with a kiss, using his free hand to tilt your face towards his. 

His hand traveled down your face to rest on your neck, not pressing into the skin but rather reminding you of its presence. The feeling sent a flurry of pleasure straight to your core, causing your walls to flutter around him. He sucked in a breath, teetering close to the edge himself. The hand that wasn’t rested on your neck trailed down to your clit, rubbing fast circles around the swollen bud. The extra stimulation was all you needed to throw your body over the edge, mind tumbling into a sea of bliss. 

The spasming of your core helped Gepard reach his own high, burying himself as deep as he could before releasing his hot load. Your cunt milked him for all that he’s worth, waves of euphoria engulfing your body until all your senses went numb. Gepard helped you ride out your high, his gentle kisses to your back in stark contrast to the way he handled you earlier.

“How was that?” Gepard huffed, collapsing next to you on the soft mattress. One of his hands caressed the side of your face, gently pushing your tousled locks to the side. 

You could barely form any thoughts in your post-orgasmic haze, it was a miracle that Gepard himself still seemed composed. “Amazing…” you sighed breathily, closing your eyes to melt into his touch. “You should do that more often.” 

Gepard’s face flushed a deep red at your confession. He hadn’t gone too overboard, had he? But you seemed far too tired to discuss that right now, so maybe it would be best if he let you rest for now. After all, he was sure he’d properly overworked you this time. As you peacefully drifted off to sleep, he tenderly cleaned you up with a damp cloth before joining you in bed. He may have had his way, but his priority was always your well-being.

attempting to will the horny back into my body after retiring for 2 weeks to write my Rimworld vampire god vessel cinematic universe lore. I had to put my whole milkussy into this...

[ghoulie-67-baby]

Thunderstorm - Good Omens.

Summary: Thunderstorms had been one of your biggest fears since childhood and a big storm is on its way, but Aziraphale promises he will be with you. And a sweet surprise makes dealing with the storm much easier.

Warnings: Fear of thunderstorms (Astraphobia), Panic, anxiety, crying, angst, fluff.

Pairing: Ineffable husbands x GN!reader

Word count: 2,176.

The air was dense and suffocating as I wandered through the streets of Soho, rushing to get home as fast as possible before the rain started. Clouds above my head blackened as the minutes passed, only making my steps faster and more urgent. I half expected to see the Bentley parked outside the shop in its usual spot as home came into view but the space was empty, sadness settling in my stomach though I couldn't tell if it was the fact he wasn't there or the looming storm or maybe a mix of both.

"I'm home," I called through the shop as I shut the door with cold, shaking fingers. There didn't seem to be anyone in the shop as I glanced around before taking off my shoes and jacket, walking through to the back room to put them away and grabbing my slippers and cardigan. I hummed to myself as I picked up the fresh cup of tea that seemed to be miracled to stay hot on the side, smiling at the notion. A sigh of relief sounded through the room as I sipped it, the taste and warmth settling me down. "Where are you, Honey?" My eyes scanned the room only to come up with nothing.

"Just a moment Love," A familiar voice called, making me grin. "I'm just shelving some of the newest materials." I rolled my eyes at his antics as I held my cup with clasped hands to warm them up. A mess of white curls came into view as the Angel appeared from behind one of the shelves, books stacked up so high I couldn't see his face as he balanced them. I giggled at him, placing down my cup, grabbing a few of the books from the pile and shifting them into my own arms. "Hello, Love." The grin on his face made his blue eyes shine and I smiled back, shaking my head before pressing my lips to his gently.

"Hello, Honey, busy day?" I gestured to both piles as we carried them through into the shop.

"Yes quite, I've waited all week for these to arrive so I'm glad they have before the storm hit." His gentle voice floated through the air as he lifted the books onto a shelf behind his desk, taking the second pile from me and doing the same with them. I shivered at the mention of the storm, pulling a face at the comment.

"I'll be glad when it's over," I mumbled, grabbing my cup once more and taking another sip. The Angel smiled sympathetically and pressed a small kiss to my forehead to comfort me. The kiss made me melt slightly, calming my nerves even though the wind howled through the shop furiously.

"I'm sure it won't be too long Love," He assured me, picking up his own cup of tea from his desk.

"Where's Crowley anyway? Thought he would've been back by now."

"As did I but he rang saying to expect him back a little later, something about an errand." I nodded, humming mindlessly as I took a seat on the sofa, crossing my legs and staring at the floor. "Love? Are you alright?" My eyes flickered back up to Aziraphale's face though they felt blurred and heavy.

"Sorry," I mumbled, "I'm just a little out of it. Think it's the storm." I sighed, pursing my lips as my eyes fell back to the floor. Ever since I was a child storms had terrified me to the point of endless tears and jumpiness, unfortunately following me into adulthood. This wouldn't be the first time I'd been with Aziraphale during a storm but each time it was the same; I would zone out, becoming distant and distracted, before freaking out when the storm actually hit leaving them to look after me.

"Don't apologise, Love," He came to sit beside me, shoulder resting against mine gently. "I'll be here with you the whole time." I nodded, smiling gratefully at him, finishing my tea. My head rested against his bicep as we waited for the storm to set in, the feeling of guilt building in my stomach knowing Aziraphale would have to deal with the state I got into, especially without Crowley here to help. Minutes felt like hours as we waited and I sighed heavily, eyes peering up at the Angel.

"Azira, can you read to me please?" A pleasant smile crossed his face as he nodded softly. "Can we carry on with Alice in Wonderland?" I giggled at the grin on his face, melting into a forehead kiss before curling my knees up on the sofa with me.

It had only been minutes since he left to go and find the book, shuffling could be heard in another room when an almighty crash of thunder split through the room. A scream of terror ripped through the room as I jumped out of my skin, launching myself off the sofa and to the nearest safe space where I curled up, trembling with hands clenched over my ears and eyes wide with fright. I was so caught up in the noise of the storm and flickers of lightning that I hadn't noticed Aziraphale rush back into the room. A part of me wanted to crawl out of my space and let him take care of me but my body was frozen in place as my heart pounded. I stared as a frantic pair of feet searched the room in my usual hiding spots for a curled-up, frightened bundle but they soon came to a stop in the middle of the room when all my places had been searched.

"Y/N, I know you're scared," His voice sounded muffled as he called out into the empty room. "But I need you to show me where you are." I whimpered softly, I wanted to show him, I really did but my body was too stubborn and stiff to move, curling up tighter with each crash of thunder. By this point, tears had flowed over and flooded my cheeks leaving streaks down my face. A sob was bitten back as the walls practically vibrated with the force of the storm outside, my fists clenched around my ears in a vain attempt to keep out the noise, making the pair of feet turn towards my corner quickly. I watched with blurred vision as the socked feet shuffled over to me, crouching down to reveal a pair of concern-filled blue eyes. Though I could see his mouth moving, I couldn't hear his soothing words as he softened his voice for me, holding out a hand though it just made me flinch. The corner I had shoved myself into was under a desk in the corner, trapped in by the wall and the desk's built-in drawers so there was no room for him to slide in beside me and sit out the storm.

I couldn't tell how long it had been since the storm started, the thunder and lightning sending my senses off in all directions into disorientation but I knew that the Angel never left my sight, making sure I knew he was there if and when I needed him. He had given up trying to touch me, realising it made me flinch and shrink back more and settled for sitting in front of me with his hands in his lap, though he still spoke despite me not hearing him. I knew it calmed him to know where I was and that I was safe as well as he knew it calmed me to hear his voice and see him. A cold wind blew through the room for a moment, leaving Aziraphale no choice but to leave me, mouthing that he would be back quickly, disappearing into the front of the shop.

As soon as he left the room, the walls seemed to darken, casting shadows across the walls with each flash of lightning and tremble of thunder. My silent sobs soon escalated into louder ones as the darkness seemed to fold around me which caught the attention of Azira and the guest. My eyes widened a little more when Aziraphale's socked feet entered the room with a pair of black booted feet just behind him. The two knelt down and this time Crowley's snake eyes appeared as well as the Angel's. Their gazes softened as I fought for my breath from crying, trying to ignore the way my body shuddered with each sob. The demon held out a hand to me but just like with the angel, I flinched and he drew back quickly, looking concerned and slightly offended. It wasn't because I didn't want them near me, the noises and sights of the storm were already overloading my senses and I didn't think I could take much more stimulation. I bit my lip, trying to clear my vision as Crowley stood back up and knelt by a large bag on the sofa before I let my eyes flicker to the white-haired Angel.

I could see his lips forming words like 'Come on' And 'You're safe with us Love' and slowly but surely my body seemed to decide it wanted out of the corner and into the warmth of that safety. Inch by inch, with shuddering breaths and trembling hands I moved towards him until I was just out from under the desk. With one last burst of energy, I threw myself into his arms, burying my face in his waistcoat and covering my ears once more, letting his own arms wrap around me. The hum of his speaking could be felt through his chest as the Angel and the Demon conversed between themselves. Soon after I was lifted and carried to the sofa where the Angel sat me on his lap, still curled up, and Crowley sat in front of me with his hands reaching to remove my hands from my ears. I let him rest his slender fingers over my own and gently pull my hands down, holding them in his own and hushing me softly when I jumped at the thunder.

"Hello Darling," He spoke, resting his forehead against mine "I ran an errand because I found something that could help with storms. Do you want to have a look?" I nodded slowly, squeezing his fingers as he let go of my hands and hauled the bag up onto his lap. I gazed up at Aziraphale who smiled encouragingly and nodded towards the bag, giving me permission to open it and take a look. Shaking hands didn't stop me from having a look and a fresh wave of tears came to my eyes at what was inside.

A charcoal grey weighted blanket was folded inside, brand new and looking incredibly soft. I had never thought about getting one, they weren't cheap things to buy and I wasn't sure if I would like it in case it overwhelmed me but the Demon had taken extra care to purchase one that he thought would be perfect and I would never want to upset him by turning it down. I watched in awe and appreciation as he pulled it from the bag and unfolded it, almost effortlessly though I knew it was heavy, I assumed it was a demon perk if anything.

"We wanted to see if you'd try this when it's stormy or you're having a rough day Love," Aziraphale muttered into my hair. "It might help you to settle and block other things out for a while." I nodded but I was worried this meant they wouldn't stay and help me in a storm but I shook the thought away.

"Would you like to try it?" I nodded eagerly, looking at the Angel to see if he wanted me to slide off his lap but he kept me clutched to his chest just like before. Relaxing back into him, I smiled softly as the Demon draped the blanket over me, making sure to keep the weight evened out.

Instantly, the blanket melded into the curves of my body and the Angel's, serving as a cocoon. The feelings of panic were still there but had dulled down as the weight kept me comfortable and grounded in Azira's arms, making me relax into him, laying my head against his shoulder with a small sigh of relief. Though the storm still raged on outside, the feeling of my gift really did drown out the sounds and sights as I hid my face in Aziraphale's neck with a small yawn.

"How does it feel Darling?" My eyes flickered to meet Crowley's and I gave him a drowsy grin. He took this as approval for the gift and chuckled before sliding off his shoes transforming into his snake form on the sofa, sliding up to us and pooling his body against my chest. The storm's noise still made me flinch but nowhere near as much as it did before the blanket. I couldn't help the immense feelings of gratitude that flooded my body as we sat out the storm.