#i will in point of fact be tweaking hair/skin/eyes as much as makes sense

[attractthecrows]

im the only one who cares but BOY i accidentally got a lot of stuff right. ish.

Aiona's carding/spinning/weaving. Lines up quite nicely with Tunisian Amazigh kilim weaving.

Revallen's loose flowy clothes/lack of clothes. extremely easy to tweak slightly so he's in sarouel and jebba. color scheme is also extremely easy to tweak to match more cleanly with the mediterranean coastal vibe.

Nessie's dancing. i cannot find the names of the dance or the costumes but there's at least one involving tassels that. again. extremely easy to adapt

so far the biggest problem is that mentally i've categorized Spanish as Elvish and that doesn't quite mesh with the Arabic. and also their RED HAIR but tbh i think that's justified given that the majority of the elves in the Dalish origin in DAO are. redheads.

followed immediately by the turbans. I do like them. but have already established that Revallen does not wear things on his head. no hats no wraps no turbans. maybe a burnous when travelling through the desert or trying to be stealthy.

[certifieddilfenjoyer]

Why is Haarlep so different from Raphael - a theory

Hello! Welcome to another theory of mine.

"I am Haarlep. Raphael's personal incubus. Glamoured and transfigured to look like him. I'm a perfect copy(...)"

Hold your horses, sir Wait, they are nonbinary: Hold your horses, noble.

Haarlep states that they are a perfect copy, however there are some major differences in their appearance that could not be caused simply by the visual age difference.*

Haarlep's face has a few major differences:

Lack of darkened skin around the facial hair area (they appear a lot smoother).

The nose is straight and while the tip is shaped similarly, there is no bump across the bridge. They don't even have the cute-angry wrinkles in between the eyes! (Female form has them wrinkles, but the bump is softer)

Maybe it's just me but I was thinking that the upper lip appears to be a bit plumpier.

The face is shorter and because of that, the cheekbones are a lot sharper, Haarlep looks like they had some botox done 💀

The ears appear to be less sharp and shorter (aging hits ears quite hard, but they usually sag and the difference here is with the tip.

Archduchess form does have the roman nose, however the lips are plumpier.

See for yourself below:

And in comparison to Raphael (even to his EA model that has the famous bald spot):

But where is this leading, you may ask?

Well, I am proposing two different perspectives on that:

Haarlep's 'tweaks' point to Raphael's insecurities (a version of theory that my friend @shutexco proposed)

Raphael's devil form resembles MEPHISTOPHELES and he can't stand looking at the actual accurate depiction of his cambion form. Also, if that's the case, take a moment to consider how F-ed up it really is to have Haarlep gifted to him if his father was completely aware of the resemblence. But it would make sense, wouldn't it? Raphael left Cania at some point, but his father made sure he will haunt him all the time.

Have you noticed how Raphael has two portraits of himself that also don't look like him at all?

The second portrait has two horns, so it could be made during the EA, but there is no other similarity.

The first portrait looks like it's wearing some kind of variation of the Helldusk Armor, you can spot the 'Teeth' across the chest, but apart from that and 4 horns, it doesn't look like Raphael at all.

To sum up: the portraits are some kind of a 'vision' of Raphael. For a narcissist he really seems to be avoiding an actual perfect (as in 1to1 accurate) copy of himself.

Also, a few fun facts/smaller theories I'd like to include!

I think he made his own portraits. There are two easels in House of Hope. One behind the Archive (with brushes and cup at the ready and some paint stain spilled below them) and second is on the right hand side of the bed in the boudoir.

Now, the paintings on both easels can be found across Faerun, but the devil portraits are exclusive to HoH and I believe (please fact-check me if you know) that the painting inside Raphael's safe, right above the hoarded treasure, is also exclusive. Raphael is very talented. His diaries are like poetry, full of symbolism, bro is literally a composer, so why not an artist as well? I wouldn't put it past him. And because HoH was made by the head of Mason's Guild, then I guess he had the major influence on the design and I've heard someone say that it's Italian baroque and it's just beautiful.

Here's the Magic the Gathering card of Raphael (I think it was issued in 2022??). It looks more similar to the Statues at House of Hope than the portraits or Haarlep. Oh, btw, I've seen many people saying (mainly on YT and tiktok) that House of Hope is full of Raphael's statues. Not true, those are just cambions

Statues are present not just in HoH but inside Devil's Fee (yes, with both the belt and kneepads)

That's it! Thank you for reading all the way over here, appreciate it so much <3 <3

*Some aging research, specifically for bone structure changes: "As we age we all lose some bone which means that our cheeks flatten, our jaw bone shrinks and our eye sockets get larger. The structure of the face changes so the tissues above the bones will sit differently and so look different." Source "Facial bone loss can lead to retraction of the jawline, which emphasizes jowls and an unstructured neck. Widening eye sockets give your eyes a more sunken appearance and make you look tired. The angle of the bones beneath the eyebrows decreases, which contributes to frown lines on the forehead, droopy eyelids and crow’s feet at the corner of the eyes." Source

So as we can see, Raphael doesn't really suffer from any of those, besides the crow's feet that are imo so gorgeous that I lose my shit, AHFAIHFAJDSKSHA

[birdiefw]

LET ME SHOW YOU | SAM WINCHESTER [SMUT 18+]

Summary: Having been turned on all day, you decide you can’t wait any longer and lead somewhere more private.

Warnings: swearing, teasing, oral (female receiving), impala sex (unprotected but y’all can pretend otherwise)

A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written an imagine, and technically this one is meant for my Sam Winchester fic on Wattpad so it wasn’t intended to be an imagine, but I figured it could work as one so here it is lmao. Also, destiel is pretty much implied in this, but you’re free to see Dean and Cas however you want. I also edited this, but I apologize for any errors or if it says her/she/birdie (who is my spn oc) instead of you/your/etc!

You felt like your entire body had been set on fire without warning. Your skin was incredibly warm as you tried to remain still, feeling like your body was getting hotter and hotter despite how cold it actually was inside the bunker. Your hair was pushed back so it would stop clinging to your neck/sides of your face, your mind unable to focus on your laptop that was placed in front of you as something else was taking over all of your senses.

You were very aware of the fact that you weren’t alone in the library, twisting and pursing your lips together as you tried to ignore the rampant thoughts that kept popping into your mind every time your gaze flickered over to Sam. But, every time your eyes fell on your husband, you couldn’t help but admire his stunning features, picturing all of the sides you’d seen of him in your many years of being a couple—some of which only made the ache between your legs increase.

You bit her lip when you looked away from him again, trying to force the thoughts aside; you desperately hoped you’d be alone soon.

“Y/N?”

Your head shot up from your laptop that had started dim from your lack of actually doing anything on it in the last few minutes, eyes slightly widened as you looked across at Castiel who was sat in front of you, his bright blue eyes pinned to your features.

“What?” you asked, glancing aside at Sam and Dean who were both staring at you with confusion much like Castiel.

“We were askin’ if you found anything,” Dean said, noticing how your laptop had dimmed.

“Oh, uh, I—no. Not yet, anyways,” you answered with a heavy sigh, briefly glancing towards Sam before your eyes swiveled to Dean and then Castiel.

“Are you feeling okay?” Castiel wondered, curiously tilting his head at you. “You don’t look like you’re feeling well.”

“Thanks, Cas,” you sarcastically said, giving him a fake smile as you folded your arms over your chest and crossed your legs. “I can always count on you for a pick me up, can’t I?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, a faint frown appearing on his lips.

Sam’s lips turned into a frown, noting that you did look rather pale compared to usual. You looked slightly sweaty, eyes looking more dark than normal. You easily noticed the change in Sam’s expression, quickly shaking your head as you closed your laptop; there was no point in keeping it open, anyways. “I’m fine,” you firmly told him, giving him a look when you saw him shoot you a similar look.

“You sure?” Dean asked, curiously eyeing you from the seat next to you.

“Yes, I’m sure, Dean,” you said, flashing a perky smile on your lips as if it would assure the three men.

Dean shook his head with a small smile appearing on his lips, closing his own laptop. He could tell something was off with you, but knowing Sam wouldn’t let it go, he decided against pushing the subject. “Alright, whatever you say, Y/N,” he said. Then his eyes flickered over to Castiel, nudging his head to the side as he started to stand up from the table. “Come on, you still gotta finish watchin’ Seven.”

Castiel warmly smiled, looking at Sam and you as he stood up from the chair. “Night, guys.”

“Night, Cas,” you and Sam said in unison, smiling back at the angel.

Dean tucked his laptop under his arm, silently nodding towards his brother and you as he waited for Castiel. You and Sam quietly watched them walk away, a grin lingering on your lips until they were gone.

You let out a heavily sigh and leaned your head back, puffing out your cheeks. Sam stood up from his own chair and headed over to you, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. You jumped at the sudden touch, looking at him with wide eyes. “Fuck,” you whispered, letting out a breath of relief as you realized it was only Sam, “You almost sent me into cardiac arrest.”

Sam softly laughed, innocently raising his hands as he sat on the table, peering down at you. You shook her head as you stood up, adjusting Sam’s flannel that you wore over a pair of leggings, pushing the sleeves up to your elbows. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay, babe?” he asked, genuine concern etched on his features as you stood in front of him. “You’re pretty warm.”

You let out a sigh, glancing around to make sure Dean nor Castiel were around at the moment. “I-I’m not sick, I promise,” you said, looking at your husband. “I’m just. . .”

Sam softly gazed at you when she lowered you head, warmly smiling as he lifted his hand to you chin to make you look at him again. “Just what?”

You coyly smiled, a thought suddenly occurring to you. “Let me show you.”

The corners of Sam’s lips tweaked up into a smirk, finally noticing the look that was swirling around in your eyes. ‘I should’ve known,’ he thought to himself, already feeling himself start to grow hot with anticipation. You eagerly took his larger hand in yours, tugging him in the opposite direction of their shared bedroom.

You giddily giggled as you hurried down the narrow halls of the bunker, tugging Sam towards the garage with a devilish smirk appearing on your lips, stealing a glance behind you to make sure that Dean nor Castiel hadn’t left the room for some reason. “You don’t think they have plans to actually go anywhere tonight after their movie, do you?” You asked Sam, carefully walking with your back facing the spacious garage while your intense gaze was pinned to Sam as your warm hand still clutched his in your own.

“God I fuckin’ hope not,” Sam breathlessly replied, eyes lighting up with a rush of excitement as you guided him over to the Impala.

You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as the two of you came up to the side of the Impala, standing beside one of the back doors as you fully faced Sam, body even warmer than before.

“Well, even if they do. . .” You softly said, trailing one of your hands up one of Sam’s buff arms, fingertips trailing up until they reached his stubbly jaw. Your eyes flickered to his, seeing his usually bright eyes had darkened a few shades as they took in your features. Your smirk instantly widened, peering up at Sam. “They’ll just have to wait.”

“Is that so?” Sam asked in a low tone, taking a few steps closer so you were pressed up against the Impala, your chests almost pressed together as he stood in front of you with his hands softly caressing your hips. “Well, how much longer are you gonna make me wait?”

“I don’t know yet,” you teased, running a few of your fingers along his bottom lip. “You were teasing me all day pretty much with your soft hair, your kissable lips. . .”

Sam darkly chuckled, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes as your words made his excitement increase. “Then let me make it up to you.”

You leaned forward in response, Sam quickly bending his head down to connect you lips when she moved towards him. One of your hands automatically went to his shaggy hair, gently tugging on it to elicit a low groan from Sam. You smiled with approval, feeling one of his hands go to your lower back and press your body up against his while the other went to the back of your head, fingers combing through your hair. Your soft lips parted as the kiss became more needy, giving Sam access to explore your mouth like his life depended on it.

Sam’s hand moved from your back and to the handle off to the side, quickly finding it and pulling it open with a grunt. “After you,” Sam panted.

You excitedly grinned and crawled into the backseat, seeing Sam steal a glance around the garage to make sure no one was around before climbing inside as well and closing the door behind him. You eagerly leaned forward, connecting your lips once more as your fingers started to undo the buttons of the flannel Sam wore. Sam grinned into the kiss, assisting you with removing the shirt before carelessly tossing it to the side. Then he broke apart from the kiss, discarding the plain gray shirt he’d been wearing underneath as you started to undo the buttons of the flannel you had on.

Sam reconnected your lips just as she finished unbuttoning it. You giggled, going to shrug it off until one of Sam’s hands stopped you. “Seeing you in my clothes drives me absolutely crazy. . .I wanna see you come undone with it on.”

You let out a shaky breath at his words, lowering your hands. You bit her lip and cupped his cheeks in your clammy hands, firmly kissing him. “I love you,” you told him.

Sam grinned, giving you a quick peck in return. “I love you too,” he murmured, one hand trailing down your sides, stopping along the side of your thigh as his other hand guided you to scoot back more and lay against the back of the leather seat. “And, I wanna show you. . .just how. . .much,” he gruffly said, pecking your cheek, nose, and chin as he spoke.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you sucked in a deep breath, feeling Sam kiss along your neck. “God. . .” You whispered, involuntarily bucking your hips up as one hand gripped his hair again.

“Someone’s eager,” Sam murmured against your hot skin, his hand still caressing her thigh, setting her entire body on fire even more with just a simple touch.

“Please, Sam,” you whimpered, catching his gaze.

Sam slowly moved down your body, reaching for the hem of your leggings. “Wearing a skirt today woulda made this a lot easier,” he said, causing a laugh to erupt from you as he started to tug down your skin tight leggings. You lifted your hips, helping him to discard both your leggings and panties as quick as possible. “But, they don’t show off your ass as well as these do.”

You bit her lip at his words, your heart starting to beat even faster as Sam settled himself between your legs. The corner of his lips were pulled up into a smirk, easing your legs apart with one leg settling over his shoulder and the other over the seat with your foot planted on the ground. Sam’s gaze remained locked on yours as he scooted closer, blowing on you gently. Your head instantly fell back, a gasp escaping your lips.

“I really was turnin’ you on without even touching you, huh,” Sam said, one hand caressing your inner thigh. You merely whimpered in response, lifting your head just in time to see him dive in to your center.

A loud moan escaped your lips as he expertly dragged his tongue through her heat, feeling Sam slip one arm under your leg, keeping her close. “Shit, Sam!” You gasped in pure pleasure, lips parted and brows furrowed as you sat up on her elbows, breathlessly watching him move against you core; he knew just what to do to get you even more turned on and screaming his name. He looked up at you, groaning against you when you bit her lip and leaned your head back again. “Oh, fuck!”

He swirled his tongue through your center, circling around your clit as he fastened his pace. “You’re being more quiet than usual,” Sam said in between licks, causing you to groan at the uneven pace. “Don’t want Dean or Cas to hear how gorgeous you sound?”

“I—please, Sam,” you gasped.

“What was that?” Sam asked, lightly licking at you heat.

You panted, looking at him with desperation. “Please, Sam! Fuck!”

Sam flattened his tongue against your center to give you exactly what you wanted, seeing you close your eyes in pleasure. He got a steady movement, going faster when you started to moan louder. One of your hands reached down, tightly gripping his hair as you moved against his mouth. Sam moaned against you, nearly getting off just by watching you fall apart with only the use of his skillful tongue.

“Holy fuck,” you moaned, eyes screwed shut as you felt herself getting closer and closer. Sam could tell too, fastening his pace as you tightened your grip on his hair, a loud moan erupting from your parted lips as you arched your back. “Sam! Shit, I-I—”

“I got you, baby,” Sam said, knowing you were incredibly close. “I got you.”

With those words, you came against his mouth, your loud moans filling the Impala as Sam continued to suck and lick you through your orgasm. Your grip on his hair loosened while your hips stilled against his mouth, chest rising and falling quickly as your eyes remained closed with complete bliss.

“Holy fuck,” you said after a few moments, opening your eyes when you felt Sam crawl on top of you. You wrapped your hands around his neck, bringing him in for a sloppy kiss without a second thought. He eagerly kissed you back, lowering his body so you were closer together while one of his hands traveled down between your legs.

You gasped against his mouth when his fingers slipped through you, opening your eyes to look at him. “I think it’s your turn now,” you told him, going to reach down to his pants until he shifted to sit up.

“Later,” he breathed out, starting to undo the buttons of his pants. “I just need you.”

You sat up as well, Sam’s flannel sticking to her skin even more than before, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. Your hands quickly moved to help Sam, giggling with joy as he removed his pants and boxers, kicking them off into the floor. Your eyes flickered up to his again, biting your lip. “Can I be on top?”

“Fuck yes,” Sam eagerly said, wrapping an arm around your waist to bring you to his lap without a moment to waist.

You giggled again, looking down at his hard member as you straddled his waist. “Someone sure is excited.”

“Hard not to be when I just watched you get off on my tongue,” Sam replied in a gruff voice, his eyes sparkling as he looked up at you, not just with lust, but also pure love.

You whimpered at that, reaching down and giving him a few strokes. You watched Sam’s eyes flutter close at your gentle touch, lips parting with a breathy moan; you got turned on by his reactions just as much as Sam did with you. You shifted slightly, lining yourself up with him before slowly sinking down.

Your and Sam’s moans filled the Impala at the feeling, Sam’s hands automatically going to grip your waist as he filled you up. Sam bit his lip with anticipation, waiting for you to make sure it was okay to move before he did anything. You leaned forward slightly, planting your hands on Sam’s chiseled chest, starting to move against him as you locked eyes with him.

“Fuuuuck,” Sam groaned, his nails digging into your hips as you slid up and down. “Just like that, baby.”

“I’ve wanted to do this since this morning,” you breathlessly admitted, fastening your pace. You and Sam moaned again, your nails scratching at his chest as you moved your hands up and down his body. Sam loudly groaned at the sensation, thrusting up to meet your movements, making you cry out with pleasure.

“God, I love you so fucking much,” Sam panted, his eyes rolling back as you leaned down and gave attention to his neck. “So fucking perfect.”

You moaned as well, connecting your lips in a messy kiss while Sam’s thrusts got faster. “Fuck. . .” You whispered, “I love you too. . .so so fucking much.”

“Shit, Y/N,” Sam moaned as you nipped at his dampened neck, hands running up and down his abs.

“Faster, baby,” you whispered into his ear, heart beating faster as you and Sam got closer.

Sam grunted, tightening his grip on you as he picked up the pace. You started to lose her own rhythm, your hips shaking as you rode him, your orgasm growing closer and closer. “Sam, I’m. . .”

Sam lurched forward, pulling you further into his lap with your bare chest pressed against his own, the flannel pushed back and exposing your entire chest to him. His hips moved up into you as he hungrily kissed you again, his tongue dominating yours while his hands moved to cradle the back of your head.

Sam grunted, his forehead resting against yours as the Impala rocked back and forth, no doubt making it obvious what was going on inside if anyone were to enter the garage.

You meekly whimpered, feeling the knot in your stomach getting closer to finally snapping. “Sam!” You loudly moaned, many swear words and the repeat of his name getting drowned out as Sam pressed his mouth to yours again. Your hands went to his cheeks, holding him closer while Sam’s orgasm got closer and his fingers gently tugged on your hair. His hips smacked against yours faster, the sound filling the steamy Impala alongside your loud moans. You clenched around him as you came, making Sam groan into your mouth as he came seconds after you.

You pulled apart after a few moments, resting your clammy foreheads together as you finally started to catch your breaths, you still sat in Sam’s lap and his hands in your hair.

You warmly smiled as you locked eyes with Sam, his lips curling into a grin as his dimples poked out as well. “Maybe I should tease you more often, huh?” Sam asked.

You softly laughed, playfully rolling your eyes as you moved your hands to rest them on his damp shoulders. “You could, but two can play at that game, babe.”

“Is that a challenge?” Sam taunted.

You playfully narrowed your eyes, running a hand up and down one of his arms like you were in deep thought. “No, because you and I both know you would lose the first day.”

Sam breathed out a laugh, tilting his head. “Says the one who almost couldn’t wait till we were alone.”

You simply shrugged, a small smirk starting to appear on your lips. “Today I couldn’t,” you said, gently pushing him back down on the seat. Sam’s eyes slightly widened, brows raising. “But you just looked extra sexy and handsome today. You, on the other hand, can hardly keep your hands to yourself when you’re horny.”

“That’s not true,” Sam protested, going to speak again until you moved your hips, causing his head to fall back with pleasure.

You proudly smirked at his reaction, peering down at him. “Tell you what—let’s go again, and if you manage not to touch me, we can do that challenge.”

Sam breathed out a faint laugh, smirking back at you. “As long as you’re okay with not touching me. But, you and I both know that’ll be even harder for you than me.”

“We’ll see about that,” you said, moving your hips again.

Sam let out a shaky breath, gazing up at you as his hands returned to your hips. “Yeah, we will.”

———

A/N: Feel free to leave some feedback or send me some requests!

[justmaybee]

Day 4: Erogenous Zones

Summary: It all starts with a tickle fight. (Kaebedo)

A/N: Okie dokie, this is where I stick the red flags. There is no explicit NSFW, but this touches on some sensual themes and—as plain as any old makeout sesh is—I’d rather be safe than sorry.

Warning: Suggestive content; proceed with caution ⚠️

It all started with a tickle fight.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Something all too expected at this point in their relationship, truthfully.

A moment of boredom, late at night, that left Kaeya itching for something to do. And as his partner and resident ‘solution to Kaeya’s boredom,’ that usually means bad things for Albedo.

Specifically, this time, an ambush from Kaeya. One that leaves Albedo an utter wreck, gasping for breath and wracked with giggles, sputtering out even when Kaeya’s fingers have long stopped tickling.

His hands move to massage in warm, firm strokes while Albedo focuses on breathing, trying to stop the shaking of his chest and, to a lesser extent, the silly smile left on his face.

He breathes. He calms.

He can feel eyes and opens his own to find Kaeya lying opposite him, mirroring Albedo’s position, with an arm between them, still rubbing gentle little circles with his thumb. It’s cozy and comfortable, even with the little ache that burns somewhat pleasantly in Albedo’s stomach.

Albedo feels like he could take the world’s greatest nap in that moment.

But Kaeya just has to go and open his mouth.

A sore winner, that’s what he is. Teasing and provoking even when Albedo is ready to take the loss. It catches on the warmth sitting syrupy thick in Albedo’s chest. It catches and sets a spark.

And before he can give the action much thought, Albedo is reaching over to tweak Kaeya’s side. Fingers pressing softly into skin even softer, then a little harder—on accident, really—when Kaeya jumps at the sensation.

The spark blooms into a flame.

And so it’s Kaeya’s turn.

To feel the gentle, loving massage of fingers just a bit too fast, a bit too light. They dance carefree and send sparks along the skin that flare out and grow, blazing and unpredictable.

And Kaeya laughs.

He laughs a lot.

It’s the most incredible sight and—honestly?—a little funny too. He twitches and squirms with limbs all too long and useless to stop anything Albedo does. He rolls and pleads between loud, desperate laughter.

But there’s so much skin, so many soft and sensitive areas that Albedo hasn’t explored yet, and he’s too curious to stop. So he carries on, pinching and kneading and spidering until he’s had his fill. Until Kaeya is red-faced and panting and desperate to take back what he’d said.

Even so, he doesn’t call mercy, not like Albedo had. He just hooks a finger into Albedo’s collar and tugs him down.

It’s not a hard pull, but it’s enough to guide Albedo’s lips onto Kaeya’s. He’s still breathing heavily, trying to reclaim all the air that Albedo had deprived him of. He still huffs little laughs between them. Albedo thinks they make the kiss taste a little sweeter, somehow.

And then things escalate. Albedo, still hovering over Kaeya, has knees set either side of his thighs. He slowly lowers himself to sit on Kaeya’s legs; the mental image of them kissing with his butt poking out decidedly unappealing.

Albedo’s hands start moving, looking for things to touch, to hold. His fingers trace down Kaeya’s chest, eventually skimming over his stomach. The touch has him flinching, gasping, the slightest bit. Given the events that got them there, Albedo falls into an easy smile.

Of course, Kaeya would never give Albedo the last laugh. Metaphorically speaking. Literally, that seems to be his exact goal, when he pinches Albedo’s side in retaliation.

Their positions eventually flip, Albedo winding up on his back against the smooth cotton bedsheets. He’s got his hands threaded in Kaeya’s hair as they kiss, and—again—it seems like it’s out of his control when his hands start a light dance by the base of Kaeya’s neck.

He doesn’t complain, nor ask Albedo to stop, even though his shoulders twitch up every once in a while. When they pull back for air, Albedo sees a smile on Kaeya’s lips. He’s not one who doesn’t smile often, but the way it just rests there; so soft and sweet and genuine — Albedo can feel butterflies.

Then Kaeya starts trailing little kisses down the side of his neck, and he feels a lot more.

But—by the Seven, it’s a little embarrassing—it tickles.

Not in a bad way. Albedo’s never disliked the feeling to begin with, but—

He finds it difficult to twist his head, to open up more space for Kaeya—

Reflexes aside, he—eventually—does.

He does, and it grows immensely.

His eyes snap shut. His breath goes funny. He might even start laughing in a strange, half-gasping kind of way, but he can’t help it. It’s not until Kaeya travels up the newly open space, blowing warm air over a spot they both know as very sensitive, that Albedo thinks Kaeya might be doing this on purpose.

It’s quite the thought, but Albedo has no ability to think further when Kaeya start nipping at that soft little spot. He really gasps then, exhaling an unmistakable laugh before getting swept up in his own giggles when Kaeya doesn’t stop.

It really tickles, but Kaeya’s head is wedged in there good, and it’s all Albedo can do to fist the back of Kaeya’s shirt and hold tight with shaky arms.

It’s hot and wet and sharp and soft, and Albedo thinks he might be losing his mind. Because he’s still ridiculously turned on despite the fact that he’s tearing up, it tickles so bad. His laugher hasn’t gotten any less desperate, but it’s slowly gotten mixed with some gasps and, yes, maybe even a whimper or two when Kaeya decided to press down and suck on the tender skin.

It’s an overwhelming feeling, filling his senses and building up, up, up until Albedo can’t think anymore. He doesn’t know what he wants or what he’s doing but he knows that it tickles and it feels really, really good. And when Kaeya pulls away without warning, his garbled, hiccuping laughter gets cut by a needy whine.

Kaeya is still panting, still flushed like when they started all of this, but now the red that stained his cheeks has traveled further south, spreading as far down his collar as Albedo can see.

Kaeya clears his throat. “Are you— Is this—?” He seems to be having trouble, trying to convey what he needs with everything so foggy, so hot.

Albedo doesn’t need him to explain. He knows exactly what he means.

He’s nodding before Kaeya finds his words, fisting the front of his shirt to tug him back down.

But Kaeya resists, like he’s still unsure. Albedo is getting impatient, ready to flip them back over to get what he needs but—

He sighs, takes ahold of Kaeya’s face and looks him in the eyes.

“Keep going,” Albedo breathes.

“Please.”

That manages to convince him. And together, they learn how wonderful laughter sounds, blended into a symphony of other noises.

[moonmark98]

Falling for the Hot Security Guy pairing: SecurityGuard!Jinjin x female reader

Note:@lillywhatever wrote this and said if someone re-wrote it to tag her. I did it. Finished at 1:46am and I have school tomorrow :) anyways enjoy? I tried my best- I don't know the tags to do so I just copied hers... Credit goes to her, I just changed it up Abit and yeah, the idea is hers, but I just wrote my own version of it. Genre: SMUUUUUUTTTTTTTT Words: fuck if I know. Warnings: Smut, public sex, etc Tags: strangers having sex, sex in a tight room, falling for a stranger, hot security guy, fluff (?), Smut, au, public sex, +18. Starts below the cut~! Enjoyyyyy!!

"So this is guy says....wait....y/n are you okay? You don't look so well" Yuna said, stopping herself mid conversation. Noticing I had been holding my stomach for awhile and seemed a little pale. "Yeah I'm fine. My stomach just hurts... Continue though. " I gave her a half smile and nodded for her to continue what she was saying. She shook her head and moved to stand in front of me, stopping us from walking anymore and taking hold of my shoulders. "Let's go to the hospital to be sure. When was the last time you got a checkup?" I pouted and stood up straight despite the stabbing pain in my tummy. "But Yunaaaaa I'm finneee~! It'll pass in a few minutes." I whined, grabbing hold of her arm and shaking it like a child while she continued to look at me with a dead serious face. "I'm still taking you to the hospital and that's final." She said, grabbing my hand and dragging me to her car she had parked a while back before our walk in the park. After she shoved me in the car and made sure I buckled, she started off towards the hospital while I rested my forehead on the cool glass of the window, loving the feeling against my summer heated skin. After 20 or so minutes she stops and turns the car off and looks at me. "Alright, we're here. Get out and go get the check up. I'll be right here when you're done. And then we can go get ice cream, deal?" At the mention of ice cream my head unconsciously perks up and I look at her with a childlike gleam in my eyes. "Dealllll!!!" I swear I've never thrown myself out of a car so fast in my life just for a goddamn thing of ice cream but for once, its not on me and God knows I need it in this weather. I grab my phone and wallet from the console in the car before slamming her door shut and running off into the hospital. "Jinjin! You're needed in the west wing." A receptionist says over the speaker as I walk in and almost bump into a man whos attention was caught by the said speaker. I assume whoever this is, it's jinjin judging by the fact he rushed off in whatever direction had the west wing in it. My eyes never leaving his broad shoulders. After he turned a corner I snapped back into reality and headed towards the front desk. "My friend dragged me here since my stomach started hurting. She won't leave until I have proof I got a check up so I'll be having a checkup done." Upon hearing that the receptionist laughed softly and nodded before handing me a clipboard to fill out and nodding towards the seating area. "Just fill this out and we'll put you on the list." I sat at a faraway seat from the bunched up people and began filling my paperwork out. When I was finished I handed the paper, pen and clipboard back to the receptionist before sitting back down where I was at and looking around at the sterile, empty white walls that smelled heavily of cleaning supplies but no surprise considering where I was. after a few minutes of waiting a man in a security guard uniform comes in to check around the room. Eyes scanning around for anything that would need his attention. You felt a sense of deja vu upon seeing him and after glancing at his broad shoulders it hit you. The man from before, whom you almost ran into had it not been for you walking slowly. You took in his form. Scanning him slowly, from his tuft of extremely soft looking white hair to his laced up brown boots. Not realizing that it was oh so obvious that you were checking him out. Youre eyes kept coming back to his wide shoulders. His tight shirt not helping the fact it left little to the imagination. The top three buttons left undone, not bothering to hide a small batch of ink leading somewhere covered by the blasted shirt. His shirt tucked into his baggy pants, pocket showing a hint of a phone poking out and maybe the clip of a pen on the other side by nothing more. Upon finishing his check on the lobby he disappeared across the hall. Somewhere you'd assume is the East wing this time. You pouted slightly since you wouldn't get to see his broad shoulders or his possibly huge tattoo. Curious as to what it was. Inching

to snap those few last buttons to figure out what the shirt was hiding. Eventually it was your turn up next, not getting a chance to see the guy again as you entered the room for the checkup. After everything was done and you got your papers, you went back to the lobby, seeing as it was empty, you took the chance to sit your bag down and fold the papers up nicely and slid them in the front zipper so you won't lose it. Upon raising your head when you were done, you were surprised to see the security guard again. But even more so now than before seeing him a bit more bothered at this point. His hair a bit out of place, and his heavy breathing heard throughout the room. You were trying to think of how to approach him before the realization hit you once more. You didn't remember his name. You racked your brain for the answer before remembering what the receptionist had called him over the intercom. Jinjin. You walked over to him, forgetting your bag on the chair and put your hand on his shoulder and looked at him with a worried expression. "Are you okay?" He hesitated in answered you, taking a moment to swallow before looking away with a slightly flushed face. You're eyes still glued to where he was looking before, remembering how is Adam's Apple bobbed when he swallowed. "Yes just please leave here..." He mumbled, but made sure his voice was audible for you to hear. You contemplated on listening to him or not before shaking your head, "as much as I should listen to you, you don't look so well, so let me help you with whatever is going on If I can. I wanna make sure you're fine." Apparently he wasnt expecting that answer based on the shocked expression shown on his face. He hesitated on answering you, still surprised at your offer to help even though you two were practically strangers. "Whatever it is I'll try my best to help, I promise." You said again, to make sure he heard you while you placed a hand on his shoulder for reassurance. He took a deep inhale and didn't look at you as he spit the words out. A little too quickly for you to understand. "Can you repeat that a little bit more slower?" You asked gently, embarrassed that you didn't understand what he said. "I'm hard and I need someone to help me..." He said with his face turned. You noticed his ears turning a deep shade of red and giggled softly. You thought to yourself for a moment. It had been a while since I got some...it's a win-win situation. I get fucked, he gets helped. What's there to lose? "Would you like me to help you?" You moved your head in front of his face so you could see him clearly, a shocked expression once again, gracing his sharp features. "Wait...really? Even though we don't know each other?" You nod before answering again, "Why not? What's there to lose? We both get what we want out of the situation so why not?" He nodded, knowing he can't exactly argue or think straight with his throbbing dick in his pants. He glances at you before taking hold of your hand in his bigger one, gently pulling you to a nearby storage room, nobody paying any attention to you, all too emersed in whatever they were doing. After closing the door and looking at you, he lets go of your hand. "Are you absolutely sure about this?" You thought to yourself for a few minutes. He took those minutes to himself and took in your features. Taking note of how beautiful you looked before him. Wanting to run his fingers through your soft h/c locks while kissing your slightly wet lips. It didn't take long before his thoughts took a 180. From thinking about kissing you to bending you over one of the old bends and fucking you deep from behind while pulling that h/c hair and making you moan his name as he fucks you hard. "Yes I'm sure." With that he snapped back into reality and looked at your sparkling e/c eyes. He stepped closer to you, backing you up into a wall as he uses his thumb to trace your bottom lip, slowly pulling it down. You open your mouth slightly, wanting a kiss so badly but deciding to tease him a bit. You sucked his thumb into your

mouth and swirled your tongue around it like you would on a cock, bobbing your head slightly while maintaining eye contact. He groaned softly at the sight, feeling his cock twitch in his pants at the thought of you doing the same thing on the problem getting worse in his pants, before he pulled his thumb from your mouth, replacing it with his own mouth. You weren't slow in moving your hands into his hair, proving your earlier thought to be correct. His hair was soft. Extremely soft actually, so soft that you were curious as to his shower routine. It didn't take long for the air around you to grow thick with tension, and the sound of heavy breathing filling the room after he pulled away for both of you to catch your breaths. You eyes his swollen lips, hungry for another kiss and before you could think, you pulled him back down into a deeper kiss, hands tugging him closer to your body while you gently bit his bottom lip causing him to growl against them. He slowly dragged his hands down your body, reaching the hem of your shirt, fingers ghosting over the skin that wasn't covered before gliding up the shirt. Pushing it up a bit as he suddenly grabbed your tits, squeezing and sizing them up in his hands, tweaking your nipples above the fabric of your bra, causing you to moan against his mouth. He took that chance to start kissing down your neck, marking every patch of skin he could get. Moving between sucking, kissing, and biting. Eventually moving back to tug your shirt up over your head and placing it on a shelf before you unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and pulled it off with some struggle as it had been skin tight to him. You placed the shirt with yours before catching sight of the ink covered skin. A crown with a lion in it covered his left peck. You couldnt help but feel more attracted to the man before you with the sight of the tattoo. It didn't help when you looked up and almost moaned at the sight of his messy hair and his kiss swollen lips. It's gotten worse as he continued kissing you before. He took in the sight of you before him, dragging his hand up your sides, drawing invisible patterns on your short clad hips. You decided to due something similar to him. Using your finger you traced the outline of his tattoo before slowly dragging it down to outline the defined curves of his abs. He pecked your lips before lifting you up and sitting you down on a table, getting between your legs. You quickly took your bra off after noticing how he was eyeing the skin. After that clothing restriction left your body, his mouth seemed to cover it once more. Sucking on one of your nipples while using his thumb and forefinger to play with the other one, often switching to give them both the same amount of attention. Relishing in the sounds of whimpers or soft moans leaving your mouth when he'd give a particularly hard suck or soft nibble to them. You grabbed one of his free hands and lead it down your shorts, not hesitating to move his fingers where you want them and grinding against them, moaning slightly louder than before at the newly found friction. He smirked and pulled away from your boobs, gliding his finger across your clit before moving them down to your entrance to gather up your wetness. He used his other hand to open your pesky buttons and you lifted yourself up enough for him to rid you of the clothing. One they were discarded, he watched your core hungrily as he moved his fingers through your slickness. Slowly pushing a finger into you, watching as it sucked him in and groaning at the tightness. You moaned as it entered you, loving the feeling of something long in you. Not long after he added another, causing a higher pitch moan to leave your mouth. He couldn't resist anymore and sunk down to his knees, pulling your panties aside and sliding his tongue up along your entrance, causing you to inhale sharply and your eyes to roll back. "Fuck Jinjin~" you drawed out in a long moan. He stopped what he was doing and looked up at you. "You know my name?" He said surprised. You flushed in

embarrassment. "I heard it over the intercom earlier and saw you rush away and figured that was your name." He chuckled. "Good that you'll know what you'll be moaning. So miss, it's fair if I know your name as well." "I'm y/n!" You laughed before getting cut off by a moan as he licked you again to stop you from talking. "You called my name babygirl, what is it you need~?" He said in a husky tone, eyeing your lips once more. "I-i need you..." You bit your lip before moving your hand to give his bulge a gentle squeeze through his pants, causing him to inhale sharply. "And I think you need me too." He stood up quickly, pulling a square foil packet out of his back pocket before sliding his pants and boxers off and kicking them to the side as you quickly shimmied out of your soaking underwear. He eyed your core for a moment once more before grabbing the foil again and tearing it open with his teeth and rolling it onto his hardened cock. He lifted your thigh to his hip and leaned down to your ear, "get ready Sweetheart~" he said, nibbling on your ear as he slid inside you. You moaned loudly at the stretch, moving your hand over your mouth quickly to stay quiet as you heard a soft groan from him. "Fuck your so tight princess." He panted, groaning as those words caused you to clench down on him hard. "Relax for me baby, or else we won't get much farther than this." You nodded and you both took deep breaths before he slowly started thrusting. You moved your hands to his shoulders and dug your nails into them as you felt him brush against that one spot that caused you to shiver slightly. This, however, didn't go unnoticed by him, as a smirk appeared on his face and he did his best to purposely avoid the spot, getting a soft whine out of you. You whined again and opened your eyes, "p-please stop teasing~" He chuckled before angling his hips so every thrust pressed against that spot, causing you to moan loudly. Slowly he picked up the pace until he was thrusting fast and deep into that spot, causing the table to start rocking from the power of the thrusts. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt your orgasm drawing close. "J-jinjin! I-im so close~!" You moaned, hooking your other leg on his hip to pull him closer. "Not y-yet baby, wait for me" he panted out, grabbing your hips to move with his and pulling you closer so that you were chest to chest with him. You moved your hands to his hair and tug his head back and start sucking on his jaw and that was all it took for him to reach his limit. "Cum with me princess." As if on command you came, shaking from the harsh orgasm and from his thrusts that became harder and sloppy. Upon feeling your walls tighten around his cock, he came with a deep groan of your name, squeezing your hips tightly enough to leave bruises there for a few days. He runs his fingers through your hair after pulling out of you and tying the condom up and throwing it in the trash. Holding you close and kissing the side of your head gently to help calm you down. As he helps you get dressed before he does the same he looks at you. "Do you have a boyfriend?" He asks, inwardly face palming for not asking that before this whole thing. He sighs in relief after you shake your head no. "Then would you possibly like to go out for dinner some time?" You smile and nod, kissing his cheek gently, "of course I would Jinjin." He smiles and pecks your lips. You giggle and poke his chest before he lifts you up gently and places you down on the ground, you stumble a big from the weakness in your legs and hold onto him to stay balanced. "I think I'll need some help..." He laughs at your comment and lifts you up gently. You smile before freezing and your eyes widened. "Yuna is gonna kill me for this." He looks at you confused. "Huh" "I came in with my belly hurting, and now I'm gonna come out with my legs practically disabled and a hot guy carrying me. How do I explain that?" You pout once more and lay your head on his shoulder. He laughs and you feel his body shake with it. "Youre

adorable y/n."

[ginanosakka]

The Scars You Hide

Masterlist

We Meet Again | Next

Summary: After your meeting with Bakugou, you get an unexpected call to meet with someone else from your past. Is it possible to mend a relationship you weren’t sure was even there?

“Hey Mina, does Bakugou ever talk about me?” You asked, skimming through the clothing rack next to her with that wide smile you always seemed to have.

Her hands were filled with clothing items, and at your question she seemed to almost drop them. Her pink skin seemed to pale slightly as you watched a small sweat begin to breakout on your face, and in your heart you knew the truth. You couldn’t help but let your smile drop ever so slightly, but you gave a light laugh to calm her down and bring the mood back up.

“It’s okay, I know he probably doesn’t talk about me. . It was just worth a shot to ask.” You giggle falsely, feeling not a trace of humor in the feeling you got in the pit of your stomach. “Let’s go pay, my treat!” You repeated the words you said every time you went out with any one of your friends, the return for spending some time with you.

It was weird with Mina though, whenever you offered to pay it looked like she was conflicted. Her yellow eyes would soften like you spilled some said truth, but you never questioned it. That look scared you with the fear that she might be tired of you, so you’d ignore it for as long as you could. . .

“Ryu, how many times do I have to tell you not to use your quirk in the house!” You yelled to what seemed like thin air as your son clapped once again with another crayon in his hand.

When his little hands met, a small explosion went off that burned the crayon to ash and he sheepishly looked up at you from his spot next to the coffee table. Ryu was so much like his father that it bewildered you, he managed to be a carbon copy of someone he never even met. Not only did he steal most of Katsuki’s physical genetics, he acted nearly identical and had a variation of his quirk. You wondered if being quirkless was the reason all your genes seemed to fail to make the cut, but how could you be mad at that when you loved everything about the blonde little boy?

It would have been nice if he had a little less of Katsuki’s temper, though.

“Honestly, it’s like you want to see me go gray early,” you huffed and continued on your way to the laundry room with your basket full of clothes.

Seven years ago, doing laundry would have been a funny joke to you. There were maids that were perfectly capable and paid to do it for you, so there was virtually no point in learning. The only time you lifted a finger was for makeup and eating, that’s how your father preferred you to live. It was a big contrast to now, where you stood in leggings and an oversized band t-shirt doing every bit of the cleaning and laundry, for not only yourself, but also the six year old son that was never in the plans for your future. In fact, no part of the life you created for yourself was apart of the original plan.

Your phone rang as you finished putting in your first load into the washer, and you answered it without looking, propping the phone between your shoulder and your ear as you put on the proper settings. The unfamiliar voice you heard nearly made you jump since only a handful of people had your number.

“Hey,” the woman said with uncertainty clear in her tone.

“Hello. Who is this?” You asked straight to the point, still continuing your chores as you went from the laundry room to the living room where Ryu was now coloring peacefully and began picking up his mid placed toys.

“Oh it’s Mina. . Sorry for calling you out of the blue, but I was just wondering if you’d like to talk?”

You froze in place, immediately going into mental hyperdrive over all the things she could want to talk about, but none of them seemed reasonable. Neither of you had any contact after Katsuki told you the truth about everyone, you completely went off the grid and she went on with her life like everyone. It would make sense to come up with a bullshit excuse to get out of it. . . but then again it would be much easier to clean with someone entertaining Ryu.

“I’ll send you my address, we can talk here.”

“So. . he really is Bakugou’s kid.” Mina sweat dropped as you both watched him stand on top of the couch with two hero action figures in hand, one of them being Bakugou, yelling nonsense about how he can’t be beaten.

“HAHA! Not even Dynamight and Ignenium can stop this villain, but I will be victorious!”

‘Honestly, that whole strive for victory mindset could be Katsuki or my dad’s genetics.’

“Carbon copy with some tweaks,” you shrugged and continued on your way to your bedroom with your basket full of laundry.

Mina followed you through your small — but well decorated due to your mother — home looking as troubled as she was hesitant as she always did around you. It still bothered you like when you were just a dumb rich girl, and you were must less keen on ignoring it to keep the peace. You were strangers now, after all, not friends due to business.

“So,” you started as you dropped the basket on the ground in front of your queen with a loud ‘plop’. “I know you didn’t come here to just get a peek at the bastard child of your friend, and you certainly aren’t here to rekindle our fake friendship, Ashido. . Spill it.”

You stared at her with accusation, stance showing that this easily could shift from a friendly encounter to a hostile environment depending on her next choice of words. Mina was a hero now, she most definitely could tell that this wasn’t the time to play pretend and get straight to the point like she would in the face of a real villain. She may be more of a commercial hero, enjoying the occasional spotlight and taking down many villains for a camera, but you remember that she looked death in the face the moment she got on the hero track.

The atmosphere in the room became tense as Mina was taken back by your commanding attitude, one that showed that what she suspected about you was true; this wasn’t the same Y/N she met as a kid. Your eyes were colder, uninviting and daring her to take a step too close into your world. Your posture even deterred her from thinking she was anything more than a stranger you invited into your home. Everything about the way you acted was a clear indication that the worst case scenario she had thought of after you contacted her had most likely come to fruition.

“What. . happened to you, Y/N?” Mina asked hesitantly, and you blinked at the question with your arms unconsciously reaching for your right side, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Mina.

After a moment of silence you explained, “I had him. My father didn’t like that. . and he told me not to go through with it, that it would be a shameful mistake. When I refused, he kicked me out onto the streets saying I wasn’t his daughter. I had nothing and no one, my pregnancy was high risk, and I had just been told that everything I knew wasn’t real, but we made it just fine.”

The answer was so vague beyond being disowned that it didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened between being on the street and now wasn't something you’d be willing to tell just anybody. Especially not the girl who was only her friend in hopes of getting an up on life in her future. The fact that you told her that much was a privilege she should never expect to receive again. Mina could only frown and think of how lost and heartbroken you must have been, all because she couldn’t bring herself to stand without the herd and tell you the truth. You probably didn’t trust anyone now, and the fact that Katsuki probably thought you were living an easy life on your father’s money didn’t sit right with her when you did everything for yourself now, and obviously lived a modest life with his son.

This was her chance to redeem herself for her first failure as a hero, and she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

Mina looked you dead in the eyes with determination that you’d never seen before and said, “I want to help you take care of Ryu.”

Your brows furrowed at her declaration, “I don’t need help-“

“You do, and I’m going to be here for you. I don’t care if you hate me now, but I’m going to make it up to you for being selfish.” Mina pressed, her bouncy pink hair jumping as she bounded closer to you with a grin that used to always make a smile come on your own face. Her smile widened and her eyes closed as she made her words sink in with you. “I want to get to know the real you, Y/N, and I’m not going to miss the opportunity of seeing how you managed to keep a little Bakugou alive.”

You didn’t know what to say, no words were good enough to express every emotion she made you feel after six years of doing everything on your own. There probably weren't any words that could sum up the feeling of someone wanting to see who you really were after being someone else your whole life. You werent fully convinced — you couldn’t be, this not only affected you, but your son too — but there was a simple statement that would let her know that this meant something.

“Thank you.”

A/N: I hope you like this Mina x reader moment! I know there wasn’t much Bakugou and Ryu action, but more to come soon. Also, Ryu’s quirk is explosions that are activated by contact with his hands, meaning that he has to touch something to let out an explosion unlike Katsuki who can just let them rip at any time!

Taglist <3 : @fandomgirllover @cloudsgathering @that-bipolar-renegade-romantic @jazzylove @that-chick212 @bonbonthedragon @hawksnugget @misssugarless @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @bakugous-bakahoe @pinkykookie17 @byakuyaswifee @animexholic @arielting @samkysnks @simpforeveryone @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @liznoonz427 @damnirina @fireworkemoji102 @deneuves @tsumuuumiyaaaa

[talkfastromance4]

Shock & Delight--luke hemmings

a/n: hello! I’ve been obsessed with Bridgerton and I just finished the show last night and this popped into my head!

word count: 2.2k (little short but it’s steamy)

warnings: smut, slight praise kink, unprotected sex and a twist😏

Masterlist

Enjoy! feedback is always welcomed :)

• • • •

You’re humming to your favorite song that played at the party downstairs as you stroll through the corridor, your long dress making whispers against the carpet. It was a wonderful party with lots of drinking, dancing, and wandering eyes to a certain Prince with golden hair and eyes as blue as the sky.

You reach your room and open the door to be welcomed by an array of flickering candles placed about the space. They were on your dresser, on your nightstands, on your vanity; anywhere there was a flat surface was a candle and it cast the room in a fantastical glow.

Standing next to the bed was the Prince himself, the top half of his buttons popped open to reveal the planes of his chest. In his hand was a single white rose, perfectly bloomed and you blushed at the secret romance of it all.

“Hello, my lady,” Luke greets, his voice soft and gentle. He takes careful steps towards you at the doorway which you quickly shut and lock. You breathe in deeply through your nose, your heart beating loud like thunder in your ears.

“My Lord,” you reply then gasp as you turn around to see how close he’s standing. So close in fact that you could count his eyelashes and smell the sweet subtle aroma the rose is giving off. “You know this isn’t allowed. You should be down at the party.”

“As should you,” he smirks then points the rose closer to your face. “I found this outside your door with a note from some…military man.”

Your eyes widen slightly, your mind envisioning stacks of letters with a love sworn for you in each one and sealed with a kiss. You can picture the words of love scrawled perfectly on parchment with sonnets filling in the empty spaces.

“Is that so?” you quirk an eyebrow and become very interested in plucking the fingers of your long white gloves off your hand. “And what did the note say?”

“Something about how you outshone every woman downstairs and the stars up in the heavens combined,” his eyes are trained on you, but his slender fingers caress the petals of the flower.

“What a romantic,” you smile slipping the glove slowly from your arm. Luke’s eyes flicker to the movement, his throat working at the smoothness of your skin. “You know it’s against the law to read someone else’s letter and to break into their room, my Lord.” You start pulling the other glove off when Luke takes over.

His fingers are cool on your skin as he drags the soft fabric down your arm that is now lifted onto his shoulder. When the glove is removed, Luke skims his lips over your wrist.

“Even if the letter was written by yours truly?” he murmurs, goosebumps rising on your skin as he presses his lips to your wrist.

“I…I hadn’t read it yet, so, yes…it’s against the law,” you sigh at his gentle caress of a kiss. Then, remembering yourself, you remove your arm and yourself from his body. The short distance from him to your vanity helped clear your head slightly from his advancements. “This is also a fire hazard.”

“I would never let anything harm you,” Luke hums and the song you love starts to play again.

The violins tickle your ears as you feel Luke’s body press against yours, a warmth spreads all over your body from his proximity. You both inhale deeply when he ducks his head to your exposed back above the dress, his breath sends shivers down your spine.

“A rose would never smell as sweet as you do,” he exhales letting the tip of his nose glide across your skin. “You’re honeysuckle.”

You try to control your breathing when he starts to unbutton the back of your dress. All of your senses have escalated. You’re aware of every centimeter of yours he touches; you can feel the warmth from every candle. When the buttons are all undone, you shift your shoulders, so the dress falls with a soft whoosh at your feet and you’re left in a very thin silk chemise that stops at your thigh.

Luke exhales on your neck causing you to shiver again and you feel his smile on the curve that connects your neck and shoulder.

“Do you even realize how beautiful you are?” he takes your wrist to spin you around and pushes you against the vanity. His eyes rake over your body and the way your nipples poke through the see-through chemise. “Every man was jealous when we danced, you know.”

“I highly doubt that,” your voice trembles as you watch him slip his finger beneath the thin silk strap.

He makes it fall low on your shoulder then does the same to the other strap so the slip is only being supported by your breasts.

“Do you?” he quirks an eyebrow before finally sucking a kiss to your neck. Your head tilts back on its own accord as his lips kiss lower and lower, his fingers pull down the fabric exposing your breast to the air and his lips. “Do you doubt me?”

“I—”

You gasp in a breath as his mouth latches to your breast, his tongue swirling over your nipple. He takes it delicately between his teeth, pulling on it and sucking at the same time. Your head is spinning and the space between your thighs starts to burn.

Luke sucks and flicks your breast the best of his ability before moving to the other one. He palms at your breast, humming on the soft flesh. It’s as if he’s enjoying himself as much as you are. With a pop, he removes his mouth, pointer finger and thumbs tweaking your nipples as he stands straight to stare at you.

“You didn’t answer me. Do you doubt me?”

“No,” you barely whisper.

After a moment’s stare, Luke’s lips are on yours and his hands bunch up the chemise as he pulls you to him. You’re standing on his toes, his fingers kneading your bum while his tongue rolls over yours in such a pleasurable way. Needing more, wanting more of him you can’t help but moan and roll your hips against his.

Luke pulls you from the vanity and you dance your way to your bed where Luke falls. Your fingers pull at his hair as he unbuttons his shirt, lips still moving together in such a manner it makes the heat between your legs even stronger.

You pull your arms out of the small straps, Luke’s hands do the rest to pull the chemise off you and you’re quick to climb onto his lap. Your chest presses against his, your core rubbing over his hardened trousers.

“Lift,” he murmurs around your lips. You rise up onto your knees as he yanks his pants down as far as he can. Your hands meet as you both grasp at his dick, your eyes lock and the kissing pauses.

As if of one mind, you lower yourself, both of your hands guiding his dick between your folds. You hum and bite your lip at the feel of him teasing inside your hole. You work together, breaths mingling, inserting himself inside you. With each inch you let out a soft moan as he fills you and you flutter around him.

“Almost, almost…there you are,” he exhales as he’s finally sheathed all the way. You tug on his lower lip with your teeth then roll your head from side to side enjoying the stretch.

You start to rock on top of him and bring your hand from between the two of you behind his neck so you have more leverage to use your waist and legs to ride him.

“Look at me,” he commands softly.

You open your eyes and seeing him already staring at you jumpstarts your motions. You’re rocking and rolling on him at a faster pace, your clit being clipped by his shaft as you rise and fall on top of him. You gain momentum, mouth opening as the familiar pull in your lower tummy flutters and your toes start to curl. Luke’s breathing becomes heavy with yours as he gives you full control, his arms snaking around your waist.

“I can feel you…you’re almost there,” he murmurs then kisses you just as you moan. Your eyes fall closed and then the kissing stops. “I want you to look at me when you cum.”

You move even faster, his hands aiding your movements as he presses on your lower back. Your mouth opens in a silent moan, the pull in your tummy becomes stronger as you keep hitting that perfect spot. You’re almost there, a few more rocks, you’re slick with arousal and he’s slipping in and out of you so easily.

“Here it is.”

“Oh! YES! Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you moan as your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave. You slam onto him one last time and circle your hips to keep your orgasm going, your arms are stick straight behind his neck as your pleasure goes everywhere.

Luke gives you soft pecks on the corner of your open mouth as you come down.

“My turn,” he mutters then lifts you off him. You whimper at the loss of being filled by him and you fall next to him on the bed.

You move sluggishly on your back as he pulls of his pants then situates himself between your legs. He slides inside you effortlessly, your neck arching in ecstasy. Luke’s hips snap against yours; he tucks one leg onto his waist, his fingers dancing along your thigh.

He’s grunting and you’re moaning as he quickens his speed, your bodies move sloppily together eager to chase a high. You drag his face down to yours so you can kiss him, you pry his mouth open with your tongue then suck on his tongue with your lips. Luke groans so loudly you feel it in his tummy that’s pressed against yours and you swear you see stars.

Your movements become more ragged, the rhythm is staggered as he feels his release coming and then you’re moaning when yours arrives. Your head tilts back and you’re smiling at the light feeling you have in your body as Luke continues to drivee himself in and out of you until he’s filling you up. He practically growls against your neck, his fingers squeezing your thigh, your chemise is bunched at your waist.

Your ears are ringing slightly, and you laugh at the leftover ecstasy, your body spasming slightly as he pulsates the last of his own orgasm inside of you. What a feeling.

When you’ve come down, Luke kisses your breasts then gives you a long tender kiss. You hold his cheek in your hand wanting to keep him there longer and chase after his lips when he starts to break away.

“Not yet,” you titter tugging on his lower lip with his teeth. He chuckles and continues his pull away from you.

“I’m getting a towel.”

Your legs fall slack against the bed, your core still throbbing in after shock of the treatment it just received and you’re giggling at the memory of it all. You’re giddy and electric, staring up at the ceiling then at the candles surrounding you. You’re still laughing when Luke returns.

“What’s so funny?”

“This was perfect,” you turn your face back to him and smile. His curls are mussed, there’s a slight sheen to his chest and his eyes dance with the candles.

“I’m glad,” he smiles and presses the towel between your legs to clean you up. You jolt at the touch and he murmurs a ‘sorry.’ He folds the towel underneath you to catch what he’s missed, and he lays next to you on the bed. “I didn’t realize this was still on.”

He touches the bunched-up chemise that is more in the shape of a belt on your waist. Splotches are already forming on your breasts from his mouth.

“You were otherwise occupied,” you giggle curling your body into his. You kiss his chest repeatedly and his arm wraps around you.

“You’re very giggly,” Luke chuckles in your hair. “Are you sure it was okay? Is this a nervous tick of yours?”

“No, no, you played out my Bridgerton fantasy amazingly,” you hum then pull back to look at him. His fingers tickle up your back, over your shoulder then onto your neck. His thumb rubs your jaw, a soft smile still displayed on his lips.

“I’m glad. I liked having you call me Lord.”

“Yeah? I liked how you acted jealous about a military man,” you smirk kissing his chin. “Thank you for not thinking I was crazy.”

“I’m up for roleplay, lovie, you know that. Remember that time we pretended to pick each other up at the club?”

“That was fun,” you grin deviously. “What would you like to roleplay next?”

“We can keep doing this one,” he ducks his head to give you a mind-numbing kiss.

“What’s the story?” you sigh as his lips move lower and he sucks on the lobe of your ear.

“It starts off in the library…with my face between your thighs…”

You let out another giggle picturing the scene from the show and enjoy Luke’s lips as he kisses you all over. Your body is buzzing and warm and full of love.

Taglist: @calpalirwin​​​  @thecurlsofgod​​​ @myloverboyash​​​ @rotten-kandy​​ @tea4sykes​​ @jannimoeller3​​ @loveroflrh​​ @iovehemmings​​ @cxddlyash​​ @princesslrh​​  @katiaw2​​ @g-l-pierce​​ @fairyintheglass​​ @gosh-im-short​​ @lukeisbaby​ @spicycal​​ @mysticalhood​​ @notinthesameguey​​ @wastedheartcth​​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​​ @calumance​​ @babylon-corgis​​ @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt​​ @lanternlover2​​ @istaywithmyjonas​​ @calteahood​​ @sarcastically-defensive17​​ @another-lonely-heart​​ @devilatmydoor​​ @frontmanash​​ @philthepegacorn​​ @mantlereid @lukedorkyhemmings​​ @addietagglikesbands​​ @kikixfandoms @sanrioluke​​ @mayve-hems​​ @morguelth @haikucal​​ @thatscooibaby​​ @meghanrose05​​ @idontneedanyone​​ @dinosaursandsocks @haveufoundwhaturlooking4 @suchalonelysunflower​​ @burstintocolor​​ @zhangyixingxing1​​ @dead-and-golden​​ @mymindwide​​ @everyscarisahealingplace​​ @stardust-galaxies​​ @blackbutterfliescal​​ @redrattlers​​ @lovelybonesetc​​ @karajaynetoday​​ @quasighost​​ @i-like-5sos​​ @creampiecashton​​ @calpops​​ @superbloomed-c​​ @ophelia-enthusiast​​ @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof​​ @flaneurcth​​ @dariangarcia​

[moonchildsaurora]

When Monsters come out to Play

✤ Trickster!Hongjoong + reader (feat. Wooyoung) ✤ genre: Dead by Daylight AU // horror, angst (not really tho), survival mode ✤ t/w: sfw, rated M, contains: swearing/depictions of violence + blood/unhinged minds/death scene/mentions of weapons ✤ count: 1.9k+

a/n - have y’all seen Trickster from the dbd game? I would betray everyone in game for that man. So this piece is heavily inspired by that character & his lore, my mind is still reeling that the creators really did THAT. A few tweaks from the canonverse but hope you guys enjoy this wild ride! 💙

✛ play these vibes: Sub Urban - ‘Cirque’, P!ATD - ‘Emperor's New Clothes‘, Gi-DLE - ‘Oh my god’ ✛

Neon lights streaked across his face and dark ash hair, illuminating the silver that hung around his neck. Sharp kohl-lined eyes fixed on the two other figures dancing heartily around the karaoke booth, singing at the top of their lungs. Although one could argue that their borderline screams could be passable as so.

However, it was music to his ears and a hunger woke from its deep slumber. This feeling that was on the crisp of being foreign to him because he has not yearned for something this badly for quite some time now.

“I need it.”

The shrill cadence of the laughter from the figure who nearly tripped over his own feet, in a harmonious duet with the other’s. A soprano-like noise escaped your mouth when you fell from grace unto the lap of your newly-acquired friend who narrowly moved his wild berries cider out of harm’s way.

“I want it.”

You missed the rapacious glint in his eyes as you shouted at the other howling male, who was now in a heap on the couch and microphone dangling from his hand. You turned to apologise, with a peck on his cheek, to your angel of music. As you had so kindly dubbed him upon your first meeting. Peals of laughter fell from your lips when his onyx-dipped nails squeezed your sensitive sides. He was buzzing, not just from his drink but the sudden inspiration to create once more.

The spotlight has returned and centre stage beckons him home.

Yes, he wanted it.

“All of it.”

“C’mon! This way,” Wooyoung heaved sharply, tugging you with haste round the corner.

His grip on your hand, though sweaty, was desperately firm. Survival instincts had kicked in for the both of you, forcing adrenaline to fuel your exhausted bodies to run.

Agonised screams plagued the foggy darkness around your surroundings. Another fallen prey in this twisted game of cat-and-mouse you were forced to participate in. You didn’t know exactly how many others were stuck in the abandoned industrial site either. One minute Wooyoung and you were having a late night study at the local library, before the lights cut and so did your consciousness.

A manic laugh that echoed through the grounds and jerk of your arm wrenched you from your hazy thoughts.

Wooyoung held you close to him, signalling for you to stay hushed. He peered around the metal storage container to see if the coast was clear, not that the fog allowed anything to be visible more than beyond a few feet ahead. So he had to rely on sound and visual tracking of any sudden movements.

The dead silence was unnerving.

You had barely stepped out around your hiding spot once you’ve both deemed it safe when Wooyoung hissed in panic, “Watch out!”

You were dragged to the hard ground, scraping your palms on the gravel before what felt like a bee zipping past the crown of your head. The metallic thud caught your attention enough to swerve to look behind you. Where your head had been just a few seconds ago, now had a neon blade embedded right through the steel panel.

“Fuck! He’s coming, we need to go. NOW!”

The manic laughter seemed to be echoing all over your surroundings now, and not being able to pinpoint the direction whilst having to run blindly in the dark probably wasn’t the ideal plan for your survival.

Your breath hitched when Wooyoung’s hand suddenly slipped out from yours.

“Wooyoung!” you cried out for him.

“RUN!”

A forceful shove pushed you away from the initial direction you were heading towards, causing you to be thrown off balance and stumble onto the damp ground. The sounds of more cussing and a scuffle could be heard. You scrambled backwards, away from the source.

Scarce beams of moonlight filtered through the holes in the roof provided limited light to help you navigate your way around, using your sense of touch to avoid running into objects. Your mind screamed for you to turn back for Wooyoung yet the logical side of you knew he’d be mad at you for not using the window of opportunity he so freely gave to escape.

“He knows how to fight, he can handle himself.”

False comfort was the only thing you could offer yourself then. Skidding round a corner, you almost bowled someone over had they not latched onto your shoulders first.

“Please! You have to help me!”

The young woman was hysterical and dug her nails into your skin as she had her iron grip on you. Seeing her up close you were quick to notice both her arms and clothes were stained dark crimson, whether or not that was her own – you couldn’t tell.

“He’s going to kill me! He’s going to KILL ME!”

You winced as her voice became progressively louder. That fool was going to give your location away at this rate. You tried to wriggle your way out of her hold, which proved to be a wrong move, for she threw herself against you and shook you silly.

“Get me out! I didn’t do anything wrong. Why is he doing this?!” The tears that cascaded down her grimy face mixed in with the blood and left trails of red.

She sure was getting on your nerves.

“Shut it! You’re goin-“

“There you are my little mouse.”

The both of you froze. Like deer in headlights upon hearing that sickly silky voice purr out from the shadows. The young woman immediately drew back and hid behind you, as if you were a pillar of defence against this predator. Her hands that still clutched onto the back of your top trembled so intensely, you wouldn’t be surprised if the seams were to split open.

Hongjoong took his sweet time stepping towards you. Twirling those neon blades deftly around his fingers, metal glinting dangerously whenever it caught the moonlight. The scattered beams acted as spotlights and this was his stage to run. You’d thought a paint job had gone wrong for the mess of reds, both fresh and dried, marking him from his obnoxiously bright coat to his bare toned torso to the heels of his boots.

“Aren’t you having fun?” giggled Hongjoong, making a gesture to his foggy domain by spreading his arms wide out.

“What do you want from us?! You monster!”

Her cries added fuel to the already burning flames, ironically extinguishing out the last of your patience.  

“Call me something I don’t already know darling.”

The tip of his tongue darted out to lick the blood smear at the corner of his mouth.

That playful grin that had grown to be your favourite on him now looked so sinister. Hongjoong pointed one of the blades directly at you, “It’s time for you to join your little friend, I’m sure he’s already dying to reunite with you.”

“Don’t leave! Please don’t leave me!” the woman buried her face in your back. You didn’t reply to the woman but reached behind to firmly grasp her wrists. She mistook this for reassurance and to your relief, dropped her hands from your back.

Oh, how easy was it to lay the bait.

“What did you do to Wooyoung?”

Hongjoong might’ve expected you to be angry or even hurt, considering you three grew to be somewhat friends over time. Wooyoung and you had taken him under your wings when he was new to the town, and this was how he repaid you? Instead, you held his gaze and your voice didn’t waver when the question came out. If he was surprised he did not show it.

“I wanted a sample, of his music. It didn’t hurt…much…to get it!”

And the crazed twinkle reappeared in his foreign golden orbs, replacing the gentler brown eyes you were used to.

“And I want one from you too! In fact, both you and Wooyoung will be the main features of my next musical composition. I always save the best for the last, but…”

Hongjoong unfolded a fan of blades and drew his arm back into a pre-throw stance, “I’m just a tad impatient tonight and you’ve made me wait long enough angel.”

You found yourself facing down several blades making a beeline for you. To hell with the theatrics if Hongjoong thought he had waited long enough. You had done yours far longer, for the pure satisfaction of being able to rip the limelight away from one who thrives in it – in the perfect moment.

Within the few milliseconds you had left, you harshly yanked what you still had within your grasp to the front.

The applause died down and silence consumed the area.

Hongjoong tilted his head with curiosity and eyes widened by a miniscule at the scene before him. A choked gurgle. The blades had all found their marks on a new target and the corners of your lips curled up as you felt the life drained from the woman’s body before it went limp. Finally, the pest ceased to exist.

“Oh Hongjoong…”

There was a vicious edge to the tone of your voice now, and you let the ragdoll of a body fall into a heap by your feet. You bent down to pluck one of the blades from her body and nonchalantly inspected it. Not really having a care that the pool of red was starting to creep towards your feet.

“…Or would you rather I address you as, Trickster?”

A flicker of surprise, or supposedly irritation, passed over his features. Hongjoong clicked his tongue and slowly dropped his arms back down. What were you exactly playing at? This was his game, not yours.

“Word’s been around. And hearing about the Trickster perked our curiosity…so of course we just had to meet you.”

The puzzle pieces were starting to click together – Hongjoong merely became an actor in this script you gave him. Having Wooyoung and you cross paths with Hongjoong was a crafted intention.

Yet, what made the seeds of anger burst under his skin more so was the climax you denied him.

Hongjoong let out low grunt when one of his knees gave way under him, effectively bringing him down. A hand roughly grabbed the back of his freshly dyed silver hair and forced his head forward.

“When in the presence of the queen, you should be bowing. It’s only courteous, no?”

The dolphin-like laugh followed wasn’t hard to recognise who it belonged to. Another flick of his wrist, Wooyoung manoeuvred Hongjoong like a marionette. Thin, almost-invisible strings gleamed under the tiniest fleck of moonlight. Hongjoong would’ve attempted to sever his ties free but at what cost? Wooyoung prided himself in giving the cleanest cut each time he got bored of his new toy.

You scoffed at the nickname Wooyoung used, with slight affection.

“Hate to burst your bubble hon, but you’re not that special,” Wooyoung continued his mocking. Stepping aside to let you crouch in front of Hongjoong, he watched on with eagerness as you tilted Hongjoong’s chin with his own neon blade you were holding from before.  

“Little musician, you’re the new kid who strolled into our playground. And…”

Hongjoong’s eyes darted to look over your shoulder, at a few other figures who started to appear out of the dark. You tapped his chin to garner his attention once more. His golden eyes met your now, brilliant ruby red ones. A venomous smile stretched across your lips with your pupils forming into slits.  

“…unfortunately, there isn’t enough room for another monster to play around this part of town. “

“However, should you put on another show somewhere else…” suggested the one wearing a white crow’s mask, voice deceptively child-like.

You hummed at the idea. Fingers slowly tracing the playful grin that was already growing back on Hongjoong. It’d be a waste to get rid of such a pretty face wouldn’t it?

“We’d gladly come as your audience when you take the centre stage once more.”

[clandonnachaidh]

Light Across The Seas That Severed

Read on AO3

It always surprised Jamie Fraser, the things that made him think of Claire Beauchamp. Along with the usual triggers—the gut punch when he caught a whiff of someone wearing her signature perfume, the seizing of his heart when his eyes were automatically drawn to messy brown curls on a stranger walking down the high street, the ache in his chest when someone walked past who had the same cadence as her laugh—it was the small, unexpected ones that hurt the most.

He could be walking into the village and see her hair in the colours of the water as it ruffled over the rocks in the burn, so real to him that it felt as though he could reach out and tangle it through his fingers. His carefully curated playlist would end and Spotify would betray him, blasting a song that he had kept at bay, conjuring memories of the two of them dancing like fools on the nights that they laughed so loud that it seemed even the walls shook as they brushed their teeth in the cramped bathroom of their dorm.

It was torture. A delicious kind, but torture nonetheless. One that he had thought to turn into prose—at the recommendation of his therapist. It had been explained to him that grief and loss were themes that could be explored in ourselves if we attempted to write them from another’s perspective. And so here he was now, years after she had left him, sitting at his late father’s desk with a whisky in one hand and a pen in the other, trying to make sense of what had happened and how he had ever been stupid enough to watch silently as her light, his Sorcha, slipped from his life.

On yet another night spent in the same position—the room dark with only a lamp beside him to illuminate the black moleskin notebook—he reclined, the chair creaking under his weight. His father’s old office chair, with it’s worn leather and rusty hinges, wasn’t built to accommodate a man of his size but he’d found that it actually helped to coax the words from his brain, as though the physical discomfort made his emotional pain easier to access. He seemed to need a little nudge to allow himself to sink deeper into parts of his past that he had spent so long trying to keep locked away.

When the whisky finally made him brave enough to open the door, the memories flooded out onto the paper: the sight of her pink lips pouted in frustration as she struggled to lift her belongings from the boot of the taxi on the first day of university, the first time she laughed at one of his terrible jokes (why do the French only use one egg to make an omelette, Sassenach? Because one is an oeuf!), the first time he helped her into her coat and his fingertips brushed the skin behind her ear (their maiden voyage to the on campus coffee house, faces taut in disgust as they realised that their unrelenting back and forth had caused their coffees to go cold). He wrote about falling in love with his best friend and why he had wasted so much time worrying about how to tell her.

Jamie had spent hours, days, months, sitting in his father’s chair, consumed by the fruitless pursuit of trying to plot the points of their relationship. Although he could vividly picture the scenes, he didn’t recognise the people anymore. He had been young, too young by half to know what he wanted out of life and she had been more than he could have dreamed of. He had fallen in love with her instantly, as he was sure most people did at the sight of one Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. But that was years ago and they had both changed, she was living her life in Boston as a brilliant surgeon while Jamie languished in Lallybroch, living in his old bedroom while his sister and her family had the run of the house.

The burn of the whisky slipping down his throat was a pleasant distraction but the batch still made his eyes water slightly and he made a mental note to tell Ian that the recipe could still do with some tweaking before it could be sold under the Mac Dubh name. He had made a modest success of himself, that was true, now the creator of the fourth highest selling whisky in Scotland. Broch Tuarach had changed from a small farming village that nobody really knew of to the home of one of Scotland’s largest and most successful distilleries, and Jamie was often credited with bringing jobs and tourists to the village in numbers that hadn’t been seen before. There had been a boom in the local economy allowing the village to thrive and he was seen as a pillar of the community, people jokingly referring to him as Laird, or the more familiar Himself, when he passed them in the street although the official title was held by some landowner that lived down south somewhere and had only stepped foot in the area once.

Still, he thought, this batch wasn’t ready for marketing just yet. Jamie put the glass down, rubbed his tired eyes with his even more tired fingers and decided to call it a night, making his way down the hall to his bedroom. His limbs felt heavy as he went through the motions of getting ready for bed. Finally stripping off his shirt and jeans and crawling under the covers, he cast a cursory glance at the phone he had left charging on the bedside table.

Sassenach

Missed call 23.02

He screwed his eyes shut before opening them again as if to knock some sense into them but the notification was still there. The rough pad of his thumb hovered over it, almost afraid that if he attempted to open it, it would cease to exist. He pressed the lock button once to blacken the screen, paused, and then pressed it again to bring it into view and still it remained.

It must have been an accident, a slip of the hand while she was trying to call someone else. He reminded himself of the time difference, it would be the early evening where she was and she could be tired after a long day or maybe even rushing between surgeries. She probably hadn’t even noticed that she had called him. He had to fight his inflating ego when he considered the fact that she still had his number, but blushed in shame as he recalled the frightened face of the poor spotty teenage lad in the phone shop who he had made swear that he wouldn’t lose any contacts or photos when he upgraded to his new handset.

Realising that he was now sat straight up in his bed, his heart beating a slightly faster staccato than usual, he opened the notification. Just seeing her name (or rather, his name for her) on his screen again did things to his body that he wasn’t in control of. His hands felt clammy while his mouth was dry. This was different than just scanning her Facebook page in the dark, looking at her perfectly posed pictures that she chose to share, and lamenting the absence of candids that he had so loved taking when they were friends. She found one of them once, one he had snapped of her the day that they had taken the ferry over to the Isle of Arran for a few nights. Knowing that she didn’t have any remaining family, he had insisted that she spend the summer break from university at Lallybroch with his family and she had happily accepted. However, after a few nights in Jamie’s massive ancestral home, filled with more Fraser bodies than they could count, he promised to take her away for a few days of peace and had driven her to the ferry terminal at Claonaig without divulging their destination. They had been blessed with a beautiful summer’s day for the crossing to Lochranza and he’d thanked God that he managed to keep his breakfast in his stomach. Or rather, that he almost had until they were in sight of the island. Jamie had burst from his seat and had made it to the toilet just in time for his stomach to erupt, sweat dampening his brow until his wame was empty. Shivering and definitely worse for wear but at least grateful in the knowledge that there was nothing else to come up, he had returned to the deck of the ferry to see Claire out in the sun, her forearms resting on the railing as she looked out over the water. The way that her hair whipped up in the wind made Jamie’s chest tighten and before he knew it, he had taken out his phone and snapped a picture.

Months later, Claire had snagged his phone from the table of the bar that they were sat in, too quick for Jamie. She quipped an eyebrow at him in victory, chastising him that he had yet to show her pictures of his latest niece when she stumbled across the photo. He watched as her throat bobbed, swallowing emotion that he wished he could taste before looking at him straight in the eye. Without being asked, he told her that he couldn’t help himself. And she smiled shyly before cooing about Jenny’s new daughter.

The memory flooded his senses and Jamie closed his eyes, filling his lungs with a deep breath for a count of four, holding it for a count of four and then letting it out for six in a vain attempt at calming his racing mind. His whole body felt as though it was vibrating, alive for the first time in what he could remember at the mere <em>thought</em> of Claire Beauchamp.

It took Jamie a second to realise that the vibration wasn’t coming from his body. Or rather, it was, but from a specific part of his body. His hand, the one that was holding his phone, was shaking rhythmically, the screen bright against the darkness of the rest of the room.

Sassenach calling…

The breath jittered from his lungs as he tried to take a steady breath. Watching, almost as though someone else was moving his body as he thumb accepted the call and he slowly raised the phone to his ear.

“Claire?”

On the other end of the phone, he heard her let out a heavy breath. His heart seized as he listened to her break, all too familiar with the sound of her crying.

“Claire, are ye hurt? Tell me what’s—“

“Frank is dead.”

Ice fell heavy in his chest at the sound of her voice before he even took stock of the words that she had uttered. To hear her voice again.

“Oh, lass… Mo chridhe, I am so sorry,” he whispered the words, truly meaning them as he wished for nothing but her happiness. Anything to bring her from the pain that she was feeling.

“He— oh God, he’s dead. He’s really dead.”

He knew in that moment that he would cross oceans for her simply to bring her peace. He had always known the truth of what they shared, how he responded to her call but nothing had prepared him for the tsunami of pure need that he would experience when he heard her cry down the phone about her dead husband.

“I’m sorry, mo chridhe, I’m so sorry,” he repeated at the sound of her hyperventilating, his shoulders creeping up around his ears as he wished he could bear the pain for her, “What do you need, Claire? Anything.”

“He’s in the ground,” she whispered as though saying it out loud would make it more true, “God, Jamie, I don’t know what to do.”

Hearing his name fall from her lips was a balm that he didn’t know his soul needed. The hairs on his arms stood to attention as a shiver rippled through him, clenching his jaw to steady himself and give her his full attention.

“Do ye have people around ye, Claire? Have ye folk in Boston?”

[amyscascadingtabs]

don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you [chapter 2]

CHAPTER TWO: see me in hindsight, tangled up with you all night

excerpt below, read whole thing on ao3

Amy doesn't return to the office until after she's spent a good hour at home. First, she showers, washing off yesterday's old makeup and grime and letting the warm water run over her shoulders as she lets the sweet scent of raspberry shower gel replace the vague smell of old beer and sweat. Her back is sore; probably thanks to Jake's lumpy mattress, she thinks, and wonders for a second if she should add buy new mattress to the contract before deciding it’s far too much. That's relationship stuff, and that's point one of the contract; that's not what this is.

She blow-dries her hair and replaces her makeup, taking extra care to try and cover a pink mark that sits just a little too high on her chest before giving up and picking a different shirt instead. Then she fills the biggest coffee cup she has, eats a buttered slice of toast standing up, and feeds her pet fish before rushing back out the door.

She probably looks fresher than most days once she's done, but she's still worried Gina can sense something from her secretary desk as Amy walks in. She raises a brow in greeting like she's actually interested, which is rare in itself, and Amy can feel her eyes on her as she walks into her own office and closes the door behind her.

Amy starts regretting her decision as soon as she's opened a new document. What is she even supposed to name it? Friends with benefits contract is too obvious. FWB-C sounds like code for something. Sex agreement makes her sound like someone who’s read Fifty Shades Of Grey too many times (which really is just once). Jake and Amy is a wedding invitation, Rules too general. She puts her head in her hands, staring at the blinking line, and groans. Then she writes in Jake, looks at that for a moment, and adds stuff after. Not her proudest, but it'll have to do.

Amy’s relieved she doesn't have much work to do today, because she spends every free minute she can come across tweaking details on the document, adding and removing sections to suggest. When she's finally happy with the result, she saves it in a personal folder she can be sure no one’s ever going to open, and praises the office-gods for the fact that she has her own printer.

~

There’s a faint smell of artificial lemon in the air of Jake’s apartment as he welcomes her in, and the thought that he might have cleaned for her makes Amy blush. It seems unlike him, but the living room area does appear less cluttered to her than it did this morning, so maybe he isn’t totally incapable of it. She still doesn’t want to check his cabinets.

“You cleaned,” she says instead, nodding to the couch that looks almost neat now. “You expecting to get lucky tonight, or something?” Jake’s cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink, but then he shakes his head and points to her outfit. “You’re one to speak.”

All Amy’s done is put on a maroon floral blouse with lower cleavage than she’d ever do for work and put on a touch of pink lipstick, but he’s not completely wrong. She still chooses to ignore him. “I’ve got the contract. Should we do this, then?”

He offers her an orange soda, which she declines, but accepts a mug of Earl Grey tea from a package that seems to have remained unopened since before the brand last changed its design. A hot drink might calm her nerves, she hopes, but it ends up being quite the distracting experience to watch him make it for her. She tries to read through the contract one last time while searching for spelling errors she knows aren't there, her eyes keep being drawn to his hands as he holds the label of the teabag between his thumb and index finger, bobbing the bag a few times with focus once he's finished pouring the water into a New York Knicks mug. It's hard not to think about how those fingers felt dancing across her skin yesterday, massaging the sides of her breasts and holding on to her inner thighs, and it's harder not to imagine what they'd feel like another time –

“Tea,” he interrupts her thoughts by placing the mug in front of her. “Thought maybe you wanted a cup that didn’t say NYPD on it.”

“Well, you're right in that.” She brings it to her lips, almost burning her tongue and hoping he didn't see. “You want to read it on your own, or should I read it to you?”

Jake sits back in the massage chair closest to her, spreading his legs and putting his palms on them before shooting her that disarming smile again. “You read it.”

Amy swallows hard. “Okay. Section one: relationship status. This arrangement only works if we're both single. We’re not bringing more people into this.”

“What about an open relationship?”

“No. Still complicated. This is complicated enough with just us. If either of us gets in an actual relationship, it's over.”

Jake nods. “Cool. Next rule?”

“Section two: appropriate behavior. We're not dating,” she says, pointing first at herself and then at him with the ballpoint pen she brought from work. “So we can't behave like we're dating. Outside of our apartments, we're strictly friends. Or acquaintances. Honestly, it's weird we're even friends.”

“But you admitted we're friends.”

“Sure.” She takes another sip of the tea. “But that means no public flirting, no inappropriate comments, no like, commenting heart or fire emojis on Instagram pictures –”

“Are these rules for you or for me?” Jake winks. “I know my selfies are stunning, but I’m sure you can control yourself.”

“For both of us. Section three: we part in the morning. No exceptions. Staying overnight is okay, but once we wake up, we’re done.”

“What counts as morning in this scenario? I’m not going to have to get up at six a.m., am I?”

“Not unless you stay at my place when I have work.”

“I’ll remember not to do that, then.”

“Great. Section four – protection.”

“You have an entire section on that?” Jake looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

“It’s important!” She exclaims, feeling herself getting defensive. “I have an implant, so we’re safe from pregnancy, but it’s either condoms or you need to get checked.”

Jake nearly spits out some of his orange soda, coughing slightly. “You must be fun at parties.”

“I’m actually a nationally accredited and registered chaperone.”

“What is that?”

“Doesn’t matter. Are you going to do it or not?”

“Fine. You, then?”

“I will if you want me to.” Amy shrugs. “But I haven’t slept with anyone since my ex, so we should be good.”

Jake’s eyebrows fly up. “Really?”

“That so surprising to you?”

“A little? In the least jerk-ish way possible, you must get, well… offers.”

“People don’t flirt a whole lot with their lawyers,” she says, shifting in her chair and crossing her legs. “And it hasn’t been my focus. Are we good with the contract?”

“Actually, I want to add one more rule.”

“Yeah?”

Jake leans back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head and flexing his biceps through the green shirt with a smug grin. “You’re not allowed to fall in love with me.”

Amy looks at him for a moment, trying to determine whether or not he’s joking, but he doesn’t waver, so she leans forward and draws a fifth section sign on the blank space left on the document. No developing feelings or this ends, she prints out in capital letters, signing her name on the allotted line.

“Won’t be a problem.”

Jake signs the contract, and Amy tries not to grimace at how messy his signature is as she places the document in a thin plastic folder, promising him a copy tomorrow.

“Cool,” Jake nods. He’s messing up his curls with his right hand again, the way she’s noticed he does when he’s trying to flirt. She wonders if it’s strategy or nerves. “So, are you doing anything else tonight, or...”

“What, contract signing’s got you all hot and bothered?”

“I mean, seeing you in full lawyer mode. It’s not, not hot.”

“Double negation?” Amy scrunches her nose. “Oh, you’re going to have to make that one up to me.”

“Maybe I will,” he says, and she needs only to notice the way his eyes darken to know that it’s on.

Amy can feel her legs still shaking a little as she hails a cab outside Jake's apartment just after, and she closes her eyes in the backseat and wonders how it's possible to feel this amazing, this satisfied from a cocktail of what she knows is mostly dopamine and oxytocin. It still makes her feel all giggly, like she can't stop smiling to herself.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket, and she picks it up to read a text from Jake.

Fucking hell that was SO GOOD.

Maybe this friends with benefits thing won't be so bad after all.

~

[toukenramblings]

NSFW Headcanons: Izuminokami Kanesada, Horikawa Kunihiro,Nagsone Kotetsu

Give me an instance to talk about the Sin-sengumi, I will take it. The Sin-sengumi shall soon become gospel, just y’all wait. It’s catching on. I also don’t give Naga enough love so here I am.

Warnings: S I N. I’m projecting

Izuminokami Kanesada

I would like to clear this up before we continue, this man is a brat and he knows it. Bottom, top, Izumin don’t care. He can and will tease you however the hell he wants. Maybe he’ll hide something under his clothing for you, but it’s easy to tell with his red face and overly trying to make you look at him and notice him, damn it! Look at what he did for you! Be proud of him! Get horny for him!

He is a horny lil shit when he is in the mood and you can tell, he’ll want to always be close to you, hugging you to his form, glaring at others, kisses pressed to your open skin, if he’s feeling naughty, sucking on your fingers. Sure in public he’ll control himself (MAYBE) but wait until you two are alone.

Izumi gets off on praise and that is a fACT. Call him a good boy as he plows into you or services you with his mouth, his moans during these times will be oh so heavenly, vibrations jolting up and down your spine as he does so. Tug on his hair during sex too, it gets him going.

Izumi is loud, gag him, gag him for me. He’ll look so pretty when he’s gagged, trust me. Do it with your underpants if you must, he’ll look so beautiful, flushed and screaming into the object, desperate for you to touch him.

Yes he gets off to your scent, don’t be surprised if you find him touching himself with an article of clothing against his nose when he misses you, hand furiously stroking himself, wishing that it was your hand or your mouth instead.

Izumi is a bottom-leaning switch, he wants to be taken cared of but that doesn’t mean he won’t hesitate to top you anytime soon. Push his buttons enough and he will. He’ll mark you, mark him in return. He’ll flush as he tries to hide the love bites you give him. But is more than proud when he can see the bites he has given you.

The times when Izumi tops are...whoo baby. He’ll spill nothing but filthy praise from his lips about how your mouth feels on him, how good his cock feels whenever you do something to him. He’s highkey possessive as hell, so catch him calling you ‘mine’. “This is mine, right, master? You know I’m the only one that can make you feel good like this~”

Izumi is fucking greedy as hell whenever you decide to wear something underneath your clothing for him. A glimpse of it and he has a heart attack, Izumi.exe cannot work. Please come back later. He might straight up run away before coming back two seconds later to try and drag you into a secluded corner of the citadel to rip those damn clothes off of you and how dare you wear such a thing that’s only for his eyes.

Yes he isn’t afraid to publicly tease you or being caught having sex. Sure he’ll scream and be super duper embarrassed about it for a while but he’ll be fiiiine. It’s not gonna stop him from dragging you into your office and closing the door and curtains to fuck you on top of your desk anyway.

Izumi has a pretty decent sex drive, which tends to come and go but he’s honestly always ready to fuck you at any given point. Just give him a good reason to. He’ll flush and be flustered, stutter over his words and may downright pass the fuck out but he won’t hesitate to tease you right back with some naughty words.

Izumi loves it when you are on top of him, taking your pleasure from him as you see fit - he also secretly loves it when he’s being tied down when you do this. He loves seeing your face as it contorts in pleasure, and his mouth having an easy reach to your chest and nipples.

Damn it put his mouth to WORK. Shut him up with your nether regions, make him service you. Izumi adores being between your legs and watching every movement, every gasp and moan you make. He wants to drink up your moans like water if he could.

There are times when Izumi denies how horny he is, especially when you can see it in his body language, the way his oceanic blues ghost over your skin, how he bites down on his lower lip when his eyes glaze over your chest and ass - keep pushing his buttons, if he’s in denial that normally means he wants to be topped. He’s also very very much into overstim.

Loves it when you are wearing nothing but his haori, you cannot tell how many times you two fucked on top of that thing to the point it permanently has your scent on it.

Aftercare is rather quick. Clean you up to the bare minimum than pass the fuck out and cuddle. He has to cuddle you! No arguments here!

Horikawa Kunihiro

Hori Hori may have a pretty low sex drive, but he is a little shit about it when he wants to. You can tell when he’s in the mood, he isn’t as showy as Kane-san but it’s much more subtle. Soft whispers when you two are alone, his cheeks lightly flushed at the naughty thoughts in his head. “I want to give you my love tonight, master. Will you let me taste you until you cannot remember anything else but me?” 

Hori doesn’t pleasure himself often whenever he misses you, as said before, pretty low sex drive. That doesn’t mean he won’t do such a thing though, it’s quick and seamless, almost preparing himself for the night to come. Of course he knows to control himself but sometimes he can’t help it!

Hori’s favorite position is him between your legs, servicing you until you are screaming his name, where he can watch you with hooded eyes, forcing your legs apart for better access. He lives to pleasure you, to see you cum at least six times more than he does. 

Hori is also a service top, treating you as glass whenever he is on top. Soft kisses to your thighs, peppering kisses to your chest and marking them as his. That being said, he doesn’t mind being on the bottom. He has a habit of covering his mouth whenever you pleasure him in turn though, tIE HIM DOWN. His moans are beautiful, don’t hide them.

Speaking of tying, yes he will use the red ribbon on his uniform to tie your hands together. Don’t you fucking dare hide your screams and moans from him. Hori will not hesitate to gag you if needed, but would rather not. Would have you choke on his fingers if he must. Yes you can suck on his fingers, it’s great as hell and it gets him going.

Will also love it when you wear nothing but his shirt or jacket. It’s also a surefire way to get him in the mood. He’ll flush, clear his throat, and almost try to adjust it to look more proper on you. “Did you miss me that much, love?” he would question before kissing you.

And then we get to marking. Hori is very easy to mark, his skin bruises pretty easily and he won’t hesitate to show off his marks with a sense of shy pride. He loves marking you up though! It brings him a sense of pride whenever you two are in public and he sees that you are also showing off the marks he gave you. 

Oh Hori is very curious about toys, will dedicate an entire day of learning about the kinks and toys of the modern era. Consent is very important for him of course so he will always ask before doing anything naughty to you, unless you like the spontaneous stuff then he can do that! He caters his needs around yours as he is so giving after all. 

Rarely does Horikawa get jelly at all, he trusts you! But he won’t lie that it makes his skin crawl when someone looks at you with interest in their eyes. Even Kane-san is not safe from Hori’s glares. Expect him to mark you up even more after this incident.

Hori is very versatile. Top? Bottom? Whatever! He’ll be oh so happy just to be connected with you like this! He doesn’t care what position he’s in as long as he can be with you!

Horikawa always wants to see your face whenever you two are fucking. So if you two are doing doggy style, expect some mirror sex with some dirty talk thrown in there. He loves seeing your expressions as you two fuck.

If Horikawa is ever bottoming for you, it’s beautiful. He becomes so needy, praising you no matter what positions you two are in, begging for more. He’ll always be touching you somehow, and giving up control is something he isn’t against. He’ll tug on your hair during these times, arching his back, so on and so forth.

100% is that one dude who wakes up their partner with oral sex, change my mind. It’s gentle and sweet, fingers toying with your nether regions and a smirk dancing on his lips. And then he’ll pull away, is a weeee bit into orgasm denial until one of y’all is a sobbing mess - prefers it if you orgasm deny him though. But is more so into overstim, he loves you so much after all! You need to be fucked properly!

Yes Hori will 100% steal your bank account to find you something cute to wear under your clothing. Will love it when you model for him too! Has an entire collection of tabs saved of things for you to wear.

Super prepared for aftercare. Sheets? Changed. Water? Ready! Cuddles? Mandatory.

Nagasone Kotetsu

His nipples and chest are his biggest weak points, tweak them, nip them, suck on them. Oh man Naga-san will be putty in your hands. He just has really nice man tits i want to suck on them. But Nagasone will do the same to you! He will lavish your upper body with nothing but marks and kisses, adoring the way you squirm in his arms. During sex, Nagasone’s mouth has to be on something. Be it sucking on your fingers, a gag, or something or other man. It’s good as hell.

He has more control over his sex drive than Izuminokami but his sex drive is a lil bit more higher than Horikawa’s. Right in the middle. He knows he can keep control of himself but then there’s moments when he goes feral, pinning you down to whatever surface you have, teeth digging into your skin, giving you all of the love he can ever give you and more. Nagasone loves you, he wants to show it to the world.

There is a sly smirk whenever someone notices the love bites he has, or he has given you. He may have a light pink flush that decorates his cheeks when someone teases him about it, but he is proud of the marks he bears whenever you mark him. Won’t hesitate to show them off to the world if he must. Hachisuka might tell him to cut it out but is that going to stop him? No.

Like Horikawa, Nagasone is a service top and gives more than he gets back. He may be a fake but Nagasone thinks that you are his sun, his stars, his moon, the one who loves him despite who the hell he is. He wants to show you how much you mean to him, so most of the time the sexy times between y’all is soft as shit. He worships your body oh so much.

Do the same to him! Like I said, his chest is his weakest point. Mark it up, lavish him with praise and affection. Nagasone will act like it doesn’t do anything to him, but the way his cock twitches with your words speaks volumes. “Don’t say such things, love, you never know what I could do to you next.” though Nagasone always makes sure to return the favor!

Nagasone is so into body worship it’s not even funny. He could spend the rest of his day in the temple that is your body, between your legs, marking your thighs up and just basking in your presence. He also loves it when you wear something of his. It smells like him and it’s warm and cozy but man does it get him going.

Like Horikawa, Nagasone will be rather curious about toys and lingerie. Yes he may have tabs open on your computer on things for you to wear, but it’s all leather and lace. A few toys here and there, he doesn’t go fully into it like he will but he will happily learn more to pleasure you and please you!

Wear something under your clothing and flash it to him. I dare you. He will not hesitate to drag you away to somewhere private and make you fucking sob. “Wearing something like that? I didn’t think you would find out I liked that kind of thing, master. Mind if you take it off for me?” and then its ripped, whoops.

Nagasone loves your hands and how they deal with the rest of the swords. Loves kissing your fingertips and finger pads, sucking on your damn fingers and smirking as your eyes glaze over with lust.

Oh dude praise dOES something to Nagasone. He loves it when you praise him for doing such a good job when he’s servicing you, tug on his hair. He loves it when you’re rough with him.

If you ask him to be rough with you, you’re not walking for a week. He’ll make sure that you are fucked properly, overstimmed to the point you might just pass out from the pleasure. Pinned down to whatever surface he deems right, kissed until your lips are swollen and sore. Oh Nagasone will not be holding back. He will drag his nails down your back when you cling on to him, your body will be covered in nothing but his bites and marks now.

Is not into choking. I’m gonna put that out there right now. But kinda into collars?

Loves it when you sit in his lap and he’s ramming into you from below. He loves seeing your face when you get worked up like this! He always wants to see your face when you two are fucking, and also sucking on his fingers as he sings nothing but praises about how good you feel. Will also love to sit on your lap whenever he is taking you.

Nagasone will not deny that he has thought about fucking you under a table, your desk most likely. He’s a sneaky little shit and smirks as his fingers find your sex, toying with it until you want to snap. He’ll hate you forever if you do the same to him, expect him to slam you against a wall in frustration and roughly take you right then and there.

After care is simple. Swiftly clean and then pass the fuck out. Nagasone is a fucking furnace of a big dude so you’ll always be warm around him. Maybe he’ll joke that he wants a second round? Who knows, fufu.

[hale-13]

Conditioned

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 16 - Touch Starved

“Can I take a shower?” Peter blurted out, shifting uncomfortably. He felt gross from the dried sweat and the bloody residue that was left on his scalp and around his hair line felt the intense need to get cleaned - broken arm be damned.

Words: 2084, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Helen Cho

TW: Literally None - Just Fluff

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“Well Peter, I see no reason why you should have to stay here any longer as long as you promise to actually rest and allow yourself to heal,” Helen said firmly but with a smile toward him and Peter nearly sagged with obvious relief.

“Oh thank god,” he said he’d, already struggling in his attempts to climb out of the MedBay bed he had been sentenced to since the day before with some help from Tony. He flinched a little as he tweaked his sore arms, moving the wrong way, but trying to keep his muscles as relaxed as possible to prevent any further damage. His recovery is going to be annoying enough as it is without making it worse.

In his most recent fight against the Shocker the night before, he had caught a direct hit on his right arm which had successfully and cleaning broken his radius and ulna in two. In his haste to get away and then catch himself on a poorly shot strand of webbing he had dislocated his left shoulder. The pain had been so stunning he had barely been able to finish webbing up Shocker and get away before the police showed up.

It probably didn’t do much to help the injuries when he had swung back to the Tower but he had been numb and delirious by that point so he probably wasn’t really thinking straight. He does remember Tony not being super impressed with him when he nearly passed out as soon as he landed.

“I’m serious about resting,” Dr. Cho warned him as she helped him settle his, still sore and recently reduced, arm into a sling. “You need to take it easy for at least another few days or you’ll risk re-injury and possibly surgery.”

“Oh that shouldn’t be a problem,” Tony said breezily. “I have no problem cuffing him to a bed if I have to.”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter whined, trying to stand and balance without using either of his arms – it was much harder than he thought it would be – and already trying to edge toward the door. Tony just quirked up an eyebrow at him.

“Your aunt, definitely against her better judgement and with an amazing amount of misplaced trust, is letting you stay here with me so you don’t get into any more trouble during your convalescence so if you could just work with me for a couple of days here that would be much appreciated,” he told Peter very pointedly with a final wave at Helen as he herded Peter toward the elevator at the end of the hall.

Peter just rolled his eyes at his mentors dramatics but allowed himself to be directed – to tell the absolute truth, his arms still hurt pretty badly and he wasn’t really looking forward to his oral painkillers (that made him sleepy and emotional) and his anti-inflammatories (that made him into a right bastard if he was being honest) and trying to convince Tony that he didn’t need either. He wasn’t super confident about his success rate with that. “Can I take a shower?” He blurted out, shifting uncomfortably. He felt gross from the dried sweat and the bloody residue that was left on his scalp and around his hair line.

“You know that you can’t get your cast wet,” Tony reminded him holding up a hand when Peter opened his mouth to interrupt. “I mean, I suppose I can wrap it in a bag or something if you really want to shower that bad.”

“Yes please,” Peter eagerly agreed. Ever since the Bite all of his senses had been more sensitive but none more so than his sense of smell and he wasn’t a particularly big fan of the fact that he could currently smell himself. It made his skin crawl and was completely disgusting.

“Alright then,” Tony nodded. “Shower first and then a movie marathon slash prescribed nap directly after. Do we have a deal then Mr. Parker?”

“Only if we can get pizza for dinner later,” Peter bartered as the elevator opened up on Tony’s floor of the compound. “With pineapple this time,” he continued with a wrinkled nose, “the olives you got last time were disgusting!”

“You have astonishingly terrible taste but yes fine. Pizza later.” Tony nodded, herding both of them into the kitchen with a single-minded determination. The Wal-Mart and cling wrap cast protection apparatus Mr. Stark rigged together left a fair amount to be desired in the looks department but was completely functional when it came to water-proofing which was good enough for Peter.

It took some skill to slip away from his mentor but Peter was soon slipping into his room, struggling to get out of the sling on his own and finally succeeding. It made him wince from the extra pain it caused but it didn’t overshadow the relief of doing it on his own. He knew his limits from previous dislocations and knew that it was crucial to not overdue it while the joint was healing or he risked the chance of re-injury and, as Dr. Cho had reminded him earlier, surgery.

With a grimace, Peter rested that arm across his stomach and used his bagged up right arm to pull his shirt over his head. He was barely able to manage it when it pulled at his sore muscles and broken bones. Maybe he should use a button down or zippered hoodie instead.

Thanks to FRIDAY (bless her seriously), the water of his shower was already running and warmed up to his preferred setting of skin melting and he was quick to turn his back into the spray and luxuriate under it for an extended time. The high pressured water felt amazing on his back and shoulders, loosening up the knots and clenched muscles and providing relief.

“You doing okay in there kid? You drown yet?” Tony asked, knocking on the door and indiscernible amount of time later and knocking Peter out of his stupor.

“I’m good!” Peter called back, hurriedly reaching out for his body wash and cloth painfully and cleaning himself up to the best of his – limited – ability. By the time he was ready to wash his hair and hairline he felt exhausted and achy despite the excellent water pressure and all the good work it and the heat had done to relieve the pain in his shoulder and back. “Fuck,” he cursed, trying to lift his arm above chest level and spectacularly failing, finding himself unable to without making his muscles seize.

Peter was pretty bendy due to his powers so he attempted a couple different contortions to reach his head before just flat out giving up, turning off the water and taking his towel off the heated towel rack installed in the bathroom (rich people – seriously). It took longer than Peter cared to admit, but he was able to dry and dress himself in sweats and a zippered hoodie. He was even able to shuck the bag off his cast with little struggle so he was feeling pretty decent when he ventured into the living room with his hair sopping wet and dripping onto his shoulders since he wasn’t able to adequately dry it. Whatever. It would dry on its own eventually.

“And what’s all this supposed to be?” Tony asked, glancing up from his phone and wrinkling his nose but not moving from where he was leaned against the counter in the kitchen. “Why are you dripping all over my floor?”

Peter fought off a blush and tried to hunch his shoulders, stopping when it hurt. “I couldn’t reach up to get my hair,” he grumbled, failing to completely push down his blush.

“I guess that explains all the blood still caked in there,” Tony hummed, leaning over to move the dampened curls around to look at the blood still matting some of his hair together and crusting up around his scalp. “Well that’s pretty easily remedied. Welcome to the salon Underoos,” Tony said, pulling over one of the barstools and setting it in front of the kitchen sink, gesturing for Peter to sit.

“Uh… what?” Peter questioned, brows furrowing in confusion.

“I’ll wash your hair for you,” Tony clarified, looking pointedly between Peter and the stool again. “Just sit down while I go and grab some things!” And, with that, he took off in the direction of the bedrooms and associated en suites.

Peter, still pretty confused but (mostly) trusting his mentor, sat down unsteadily on the stool just as Tony came back around the corner with an armful of towels, shampoo and conditioner bottles along with a wide-toothed comb and an expensive looking hair dryer. He triumphantly arranged everything on the counter next to the deep sink and wrapped one of the towels around Peter’s neck. “Lean back buddy,” Tony said, using a finger to push on the center of Peter’s forehead until he gave in and let himself be pushed back to lean back with his head in the sink.

Doing his best to ignore the weirdness of it all (weirdness was pretty common around Tony Stark after all), Peter closed his eyes and crossed his arms across his stomach as the water turned on. He tensed up a little when he felt fingers start dragging through his hair but was quick to relax and release the tension in his body under the careful massage of his mentor’s hands through his hair and the warm water cascading across his scalp. He let out a little hum of contentment.

Tony let out a soft chuckle, squirting a healthy dollop of the shampoo into his hands and lathering it up before applying it to Peter’s hair, working through the snarls and tangles with care and scrubbing the leftover blood out of the curls. Peter went nearly boneless under his ministrations and Tony would definitely be lying if he said he didn’t milk the washing and conditioning portion at least a little bit. He knew that Peter had to be feeling pretty miserable and it settled something buried deep inside him to provide just a little extra comfort.

All too soon, though, he had rinsed out the last of the conditioner leaving Peter’s hair clean and dripping as he turned off the water. Peter made no move to get up or to open his eyes, breathing deeply and seemingly on the very verge of sleep, so Tony grabbed one of the towels and started to wring the extra water out of the kid’s hair, running the towel through it cautiously. “Just need you to sit up for a second here kiddo okay? Then you can nap, scout’s honor.”

Peter grunted and grumbled but did slit his eyes open and let Tony help him sit up, swaying back and forth and little on the stool and Tony ran the towel through his hair a couple more times to really get rid of the water as much as possible. He dropped the towel on the counter in exchange for the comb and the hair dryer. He ran the comb through the mess a few times before starting the hair dryer up. Peter practically melted as the warmed air fluffed up his curls. It didn’t take long to dry at all and, by the time he was done, Peter was listing forward nearly into Tony’s chest.

“Couch or bed buddy?” Tony asked with a fond smile, running his hands through Peter’s warmed and clean hair.

“Couch,” Peter muttered, leaning into his petting and making Tony’s chest warm up. This kid… god. He ended up supporting most of Peter’s weight but was able to quickly get him lying face down on the supple cushions with his head pillowed on one of the throw pillows resting on Tony’s lap, the ratty fleece blanket Tony kept draped over they back of the couch draped over him and a heating pad resting across his healing shoulder.

“Let’s start a Star Wars marathon FRI. Volume at thirty percent,” FRIDAY was quiet as she dimmed the lights and started the movie, the familiar logo and music making Peter relax even further into the couch, completely gone. As the opening theme ended and the camera panned to the shots of Leia’s ship, he felt Mr. Stark’s hand rest on his back, digging into the knotted muscles of his back.

It maybe wasn’t ideal to mess up his arms so much but, Peter thought, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his recovery.

[p4lparker]

Like a Taylor Swift Mixtape;

The songs I listened to while writing this;

(Taylor Swift : How to get the girl)

(Taylor Swift : Forever and Always)

(Taylor Swift : The story of us)

(Taylor Swift : Delicate)

(5SOS : Lover of mine)

This whole one-shot was based on the first song, and it grew from there. It took on a life of its own.

Warnings; Smut, angst, vague mentions of violence, unprotected sex (wear a raincoat guys)

_________________________________________

The rain poured, hammering against the window- you sighed flopping back onto the bed. Ignoring how the lights flickered as a roll of thunder rumbled throughout the stratosphere. Your eyes cast around the room, trying desperately to not focus on the pictures littering your walls. All of the frames taking up any space on surfaces available.

Biting your lip as a pricking sensation tingled at your eyes. They were focused solely on the images in front of you. You should have really taken them all down- but you couldn’t find the strength after it had happened- and as time went on, it became harder and harder. It was almost as if you wanted to punish yourself- but you knew it was really, only because you missed the other figure in the pictures. You sighed deeply, remembering the way his cheeks would blush cutely as you sprang a kiss to them- snapping a picture quickly. Images of you wrapped around his back, leaping on him from afar and surprising the poor boy- he would always catch you though. Apart from the one time he didn’t and your happiness came crashing around you as your hit the ground hard- the ground being the truth in this case. The reality of your life hitting you harder now though. Shaking your head to try and rid yourself of the awful and terrifying memories, did you no good as your mind drifted back to then.

It was storming, rain pelting your face and wind screaming; as lightning flashed through the sky and thunder rumbled so deeply it vibrated your chest. Your looked around yourself trying to figure out what had happened and where you were. Your mind drawing a blank. Deciding to move and maybe figure out some answers, you realised you were restrained; hands tied above your head, but your feet were free. You cast your glance downwards and saw nothing- but the ground a long way off. The ache in your shoulders becoming more apparent, your hands going numb- but your wrists were raw as the harsh rope but into the delicate skin there.

Turning your head; you were at the beginnings of Oscorp, the sign being the only thing to fully intact- the skeletal structure being held up by scaffolding, as was your body as you dangled helplessly. Bottom lip trembling as you willed yourself to be strong.

You wouldn’t cry.

You wouldn’t scream.

You were no damsel- even though at this point you were in fact just that. You could hear sounds of a violent scuffle nearby- turning your head and body to try and find the source of the noise; you could only blurrily see two figures, locked in a fierce fist-fight- one figure clad in red and blue- the other with wings spread out behind him. The biting ache in your wrists, forced Y/N to stop twisting for fear of injuring your body more; you took stock of the aches and pains radiating from your head which throbbed with every breath you took, to the bruises you could feel blossoming on your skin- your attention once again grabbed by the fighting which came closer to where you were dangling precariously over the precipice. Edging your eyes downwards- which you knew was a mistake the instant your breath caught painfully in your chest and throat- you could see the tips of other buildings below your feet, dangling in air, nothing holding your there barring the rope still gnawing in to the delicate skin of your wrists. You couldn’t hold the whimper in as the gravity of the situation sank in. Burning tears leaking from the corner of your eyes- dribbling down your cheeks and dripping off your chin into the nothingness beneath you. As the realisation, that this was probably where you were going to die- with a glance at the only thing holding you from plummeting to your end, it was wearing thin- with each passing second the fibres snapping, almost teasing you.

Soon enough the rope would no longer hold your weight. And you would drop like a rock to the ground miles below; the fall would be quick, but not quick enough, your mind would be able to wander before the end, you would feel all of your regrets and relive your happiest moments- hopefully some of them involving your friends and family, but you knew they would mostly revolve around your Peter. Hair trailing behind you as your tried to grasp at something to slow yourself, there would be shrill screams and cries leaving your lips as you plunged to your demise. As the sobs wracked your body, shaking with fear and the power of your own misery- you could feel the strain on your wrists lighten. Looking up with wide eyes- your worst fear realised, you began to drop.

But just as your mouth opened to release the scream of fear and frustration, you felt a sticky substance cling to your hands- you could no longer feel the dropping sensation, your stomach righting itself within your body, but churning all that same. You were pulled back up the edge of the building- before being huddled into someone’s chest and arms. And all you could think was ‘Oh!’. You lifted your head from the firm red and blue chest in front of your face and looked up into the half hidden face of your saviour.

Your hero.

Into the familiar and unmistakable eyes of Peter.

Your Peter Parker.

“Oh…” was all your whispered, as your eyes slid closed.

Shaking your head and screwing your eyes closed as you threw one of the frames onto the floor. The sound of the wooden frame fracturing and the glass splintering as it met the floor, gave you a momentary feeling of satisfaction before guilt and heartbreak overwhelmed your entirety once more. Dropping to the floor carefully to avoid the glass, hoping to try and clean up the mess without injury, fishing the picture from the wreckage- putting it to one side, before sweeping the shards of wood and glass into the trash- as you turned away, collecting the abandoned picture once more, eyeing it and letting your gaze linger on the brown eyed boy you were wrapped around in photographic form. You gasped as your window slid open jerkily. Cautiously making your way over to the window, grabbing a blow dryer to defend yourself if necessary. Your breath hitching and heart stuttering in your chest, picture still clutched in one clammy hand, blow dryer in the other shaky one. The two stared at each-other for what felt like an eternity; the rain was still pouring and soaking the boy on the other side- body primed for attack, of the panes.

Peter slid his legs through the opening cautiously, giving your time to object- but when he heard none, and you stepped back giving him more room to enter, he continued. Once inside he pulled his mask of his face and held it loosely in his hand- mirroring the girl in front of him. He shuffled his feet and swayed his shoulders side to side; his nerves finally catching up to him- he had moved on instinct to defend your, the crashing made him think the worst. He eyed your; dressed in some fluffy shorts and a t-shirt he had been missing, a small smile tweaked at the corner of his lips and an eyebrow raised as he spotted the blow dryer brandished towards him. Arm raising of its own accord and finger pointing towards it in question- your shoulders rose and fell in a shrug and your bottom lip was worried by your teeth.

“What are you doing here Petey?” was whispered, and if Peter hadn’t been bitten by a radioactive spider, and had superior senses he would’ve missed it in the cacophony blustering outside- his head bobbing down.

“I’m always here.. or well out there, and I heard a noise and had to see if you were okay…” Peter rambled, one hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck- a nervous tick you’d missed in the months you’ve been apart, or avoiding each-other. “I couldn’t let anything happen to you..” he whispered the last part- making goose-bumps erupt across your skin as the words brushed against you like a chill from the howling wind outside.

Not really having a verbal answer prepared, you nodded slowly. It was as if your mind was on a go-slow; you could see him stood in front of you, could reach out and touch him if the mood struck you, you could smell his cologne, you could feel the longing to be with him, near him building within. Peter watched you, he was struggling not to reach out and hold you against him. He’d done what he did to protect you- he couldn’t let anything bad happen to you, not again. Breaking up with you was the only thing he could think of; distance himself from the one thing that would kill him if something terrible happened to. Not being able to control the movement; his arm reached out and hand gently gripped your arm, squeezing the skin of your upper arm- it calmed his racing heart- his lungs opening up fully allowing him to breath properly once more, relief flooding his entire being.

You on the other hand; felt your heart shatter and stutter at the touch, your eyes brimming with anguished tears- it took everything in you to not scramble away from him as if burned- but another part of you filled with hope, his touch was a comfort you didn’t know you’d missed so much until now. Alas, all good things must come to an end- so you moved back gently, letting your eyes wander anywhere but him. Peter let his own gaze turn to the floor as he could no longer feel you- before following your gaze, wandering around the room, eyes flittering over the ever-present photos from your shared past. A smile again puling at his mouth, a bitter taste filling it as his heart sank, you hadn’t taken them down- still holding prime space all over your room; evidence that you both once shared love. Peter still did love you, he only hoped you felt the same. He couldn’t bear to be apart from you any longer; as he was sitting outside your window, he was preparing himself to call you, preparing a monologue to say to you, hoping win you back. Apologising profusely, begging for you to take him back, he’d been stupid and made a mistake breaking up with you- but the more he thought he knew it would never be enough- then he heard it the commotion and burst through your window in a rush hoping to save you from apparent danger.

“It wouldn’t be the first time..” You muttered bitterly- heart aching as you saw a flash of pain in his beautiful brown eyes. Shrinking back into yourself- that was cruel, you knew that and Peter’s crushed reaction was all the more proof; and you instantly hated yourself. Your hand gripped the picture tighter- sure you were crumpling it between your shaky fingers. The blow dryer dropped to the floor with a soft thud- making you both look to the floor. Peter then stepped further into your room- he knew you probably wanted him to leave, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn away from you again; he’d vowed to never do that again, it had hurt his soul. He walked to the pictures decorating your walls- his eyes becoming more glassy as he remembered how it felt to have you wrapped up in him or around him. You stepped closer- one hand hovering over his back, the heat rolled off him and drew you closer, his shoulders sagging and you drew closer still until you made contact. You could feel him hold his breath as you hand squeezed his broad shoulder. You mind struggling no to remind you of how it felt under your hand in different circumstances- your mind flashing, a hazy image of Peter pressed between your legs- face screwed up in pleasure, sweat dotting his forehead, as he pushed into you again and again. You gasped, Peter turning his face to you- eyebrows furrowed.

“I know what I did hurt you, but I did what I thought was best. I couldn’t see you like that, never again…” Peter whispered, his chin inching closer to rest atop your fingers- still clutching his shoulder. Your lip was being worried by your teeth again, and his eyes followed the motion- darkening slightly as he watched in a trance. He could feel the stirring deep within him- seeing you do that thing- making him feel all of the feelings and a certain type of way, as his suit suddenly felt more snug around him. You nodded- still trying to calm your raging hormones; this was ridiculous, you hadn’t been touched by another person in months- always shying away from the most innocent of contact- which apparently had turned you into a hormonal mess. You let your eyes flutter shut as you tried to process what he had just said to you- your mind a jumble of thoughts, which only made you more flustered and frustrated with not only him but yourself also. Taking a step backwards and a deep breath- you shook your head as a bitter laugh erupted from your lips harshly, you threw the picture away from you and watched it flutter to the ground forlornly.

“You’re right Peter. You did hurt me. You abandoned me as I was coming to terms with the fact that you had been hiding half of yourself from me for months… I gave you everything. And you took it… not caring that you weren’t giving me the same in return!” you whispered- venom dripping from your words as the hurt was expelled from your body with each word, making room for the violent anger that was coursing through your veins like a drug. Peter’s mouth dropped open with a pop. He was surprised at your cruel tone- the light within your eyes not matching your words, they glinted with something but it wasn’t anger like he expected or hurt- they flashed in that familiar way which had him even more surprised as he felt a familiar stirring within himself. You ignored the way your arousal bubbled just under the surface mixing with your anger deliciously. He took a step towards you- you holding a hand up to keep him at a safe distance- he ignored your reaction and continued towards you- gloved hand reaching out and brushing his fingers against yours, before clasping them and tugging you towards him

“You left me, you didn’t even have the common decency to actually dump me… you avoided me and abandoned me and left me. You left me…” you whispered brokenly, tears rolling down your cheeks- Peter tugged you further towards him, tucking you into his chest as your hands tried to push him away- your clenched fists beating against his hard chest not deterring him in the slightest.

He let you.

He let your hands pound against him, until he saw you falter, letting his mask slip to the floor. He took his chance and wrapped his hands around your wrists- holding them against him. You tilted your face upwards defiantly, tears streaming down your face- but eyes burning into his own, and all of a sudden they were too close and your tear-stained lips were crushed against his own. His eyes widening before drifting shut as his muscle memory took over and he allowed himself to tattoo the feeling of you pressed against him to his memory. You hadn’t realised what your were doing; anger, sadness and lust mingling together to fuel you on- leading to you mold your lips and body against him. There was a pounding in your ears as blood rushed around your body- the sound thundering in your head, almost drowning out the sound of Peter’s pants. His fingers slipped from your wrists and down your body until they rest against the small of your back- pulling you further into him. A groan sounded- neither of you knowing who it came for and neither of you caring as your settled hands began to roam each-others bodies.

Fingers pulling.

Groping.

Pinching.

Feeling and committing it all to memory in case this would be the last time you had the chance. You tugged at the smooth, second skin of Peter’s suit. Becoming angry that the thing wouldn’t give way like you wanted. No needed. Peter chuckled against your lips- the pair of you hadn’t stopped trading feverish, sloppy kisses- his fingers drifting away from your hips, before reaching up and tapping the spider resting in the middle of his chest, allowing the offending fabric to pool around his elbows. You pulled back- eyeing up his shoulders, your hands ripping at the fabric, tugging it off his arms- leaving the material to swing idly at his hips. Your eyes trailing over the expanse of his torso; pale skin, taut over the muscles that looked to be carved from stone, your eyes caught on his left peck- it was missing your mark, it obviously having faded months before and before you could stop your movements, you latched your lips on that spot. The one over his frantically pounding heartbeat- pecks turned quickly into open mouthed kisses- teeth nipping and tongue lapping over the area, lips suckling until you were sure your mark was where it should be. Peter’s sighs spurred you on as you left a trail of kisses down his body, dropping to your knees in front of him- hie eyes widened before tugging you up and connecting your lips once more.

Pushing you towards your desk- he pushed you until you were resting on the top- legs hanging on either side of his hips; he let his lips trace over your neck, chest and stomach over your oversized top, when he reached the hem his nimble fingers ruched the fabric up until he was able tug your top off and throw it carelessly behind him. Eyes marvelling at sight revealed before him; you wearing nothing but your underwear- eyes lingering on your exposed chest, a finger delicately traced down the valley between your breasts- the light touch leaving goose-bumps in its wake and a gasp to fall from your lips. His digits lead to way and his soft lips followed- kissing the expanse of bare flesh, trailing down until he reached the band of your underwear- he stopped, his eyes fluttering to your own and at eager nod, he nipped at your hips and then the band itself before tugging the material away from your eager core- the material pinging back with a slight snap causing a groan from your lips. the material was dragged away from your body; pooling around your feet before being cast aside. Peter’s hand ghosted over your ankles, calves, knees and thighs before smoothing over your hips- once his hands settled his eyes glanced at you once more not just asking for your permission but begging for it with his desperate eyes.

“Yes… please…” you whispered brokenly, as soon as the words left your lips- his own were on you. Placing kisses around your core; using his deft fingers to spread you apart slightly his tongue darted out and traced up the outer edges of you- your replying shudder spurred him on eagerly. He lapped at you, before diving in; lips and tongue doing obscene things and making vile curses slip from your lips. The sounds pouring from your lips making a smirk pull at his face- God he’d missed that sound! You were falling apart around his tongue- as he worked you and pushed you closer to the sweet edge you teetered on. As your hands wandered to his tousled curls; dragging through the tresses as your eyes followed the motion, barely managing to stay open as you watched his face be buried between your legs. As if feeling your stare, his eyes slickered up to you, and all of a sudden you were falling off the precipice; moans echoing throughout the quiet room. Hands fisting in his damp locks, you had to force yourself not to grind yourself against his face- you could feel yourself flutter around him and he chuckled as he dropped careful kisses to your sensitive clit. When your racing heart had finally calmed, you tugged on his hair gently- stopping him giving your delicate core attention and dragging him back up your body. Once he was face to face with you- your lips collided, lips nipping and tongues licking at each-other.

Your desperate hands dragged at the material still hiding him from you, it pooled on the floor; and you had to bite your lip not to laugh at him as he awkwardly tried to kick the pesky suit away from him. He rolled his eyes at you before claiming you lips once more. As your lips met- your hands explored; tracing over him, hard in your hand, you shuffled his boxers away from his hips and wrapped your legs around him. Dragging him closer to you- if that was even possible- the head of him rubbing against your slick folds, your hand found him again and gently rubbed him against you. His hips stuttering, a groan leaving him loudly- the sound dragging him back to reality. He pulled away from you- your lips desperately trying to follow and not lose this carnal connection, but when you couldn’t meet again your eyes slid open. The sight in front of your hazy eyes made your breath catch in your throat.

Peter held his hands in front of himself to provide some modesty, his lip was being bitten harshly between his teeth. But that wasn’t what had startled you. No, it was the emotions flickering within his beautiful gaze. You could see a multitude flowing through those familiar irises; pain, lust, guilt, happiness and sadness all at the same time. You reached out to him, and he followed your beckon- allowing his body to mold against your own once more. His head resting on your chest as a wetness dripped on to you.

“I’m sorry…” his defeated whisper haunted you, you hands gripping his head harshly- forcing him to look you in the eyes. His tear filled ones staring in to you, staring straight into the centre of your being; your soul and your heart breaking and then rebuilding themselves as your mind was made up, you shook your head.

“I love you!” You murmured, keeping your eyes connected- a few more tears slipped from his expressive orbs before a watery smile filled his beautiful features. His lips pecking at you face, dotting all around; your brows, eyelids, cheeks, jaw, chin and finally your lips. He had a salty taste to him now, as his tear-stained lips mingled with your own. The delicate pecks becoming more heated until your tongues were in a passionate tangle. Hands once more roamed; remembering this time, not for future, but letting the gentle touches heal the ache you both held deep within.

With each kiss, Peter could feel you open yourself to him again; trust, forgiveness and love flowing from you to him.

With each kiss, you could feel all of Peter’s; self-hatred, adoration and desperation flow from him.

The pair of you moved together- skin kissing against skin- hands traversing familiar but at the same time unchartered territory. Your hands traced over him as his did you; he rubbed into you, fingers circling your sensitive nub teasingly- you dryly rubbed him up and down few times before pushing his hands from you and pulling him into you once more. Though this time Peter didn’t stop you- he allowed you to line him up with your entrance, and the pair of you sighed happily as he slid into you fully. The stretch you felt was welcomed as he filled you- you were once more whole, and Peter, well, he was home. He pulled away from you lips sliding down your neck to leave his own mark upon you- as his lips marked you, his hips also moved. Not in a rushed manner you had expected, he pushed back in slowly- almost painfully slow. You could feel yourself yearning for him to push you to the brink- but he had other ideas; he wanted you to remember this, memorise every inch of him as he pushed and pulled in and out of you, he needed you to remember the healing sensation as your bodies met, he needed you to never forget this- as he didn’t think he could ever let you go again.

He wouldn’t.

The slow pace was driving you to your end, but also to madness- you wanted him to be overtaken with the passion that was bubbling beneath the surface; but the moans, grunts and groans leaving both of your lips only made him wish to go slower, hoping to prolong the inevitable. But as you fluttered around him- hugging him and his body closer to you he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold the tsunami quickly approaching. His hands which had previously been tracing over every bit of skin he could find suddenly gripped you on either side of your face- forcing your half-lidded eyes to try and focus on him.

“I love you!” Peter declared proudly. Adamantly. You gasped as you reached your peak dragging Peter along with you shortly after- walls clenching tightly, as tears slipped from your eyes. Peter let his lips kiss away the salty stains, before resting his forehead against you as he filled you- a content sigh leaving him.

He was definitely home.

Once your pounding hearts had settled into a calmer rhythm, Peter pressed a kiss to your forehead- the gentle smile never leaving his delicate features, and it was one you returned, dropping a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Peter let his fingers trail to the backs of your thighs, pulling you tighter against him and moving through to your adjoined bathroom to clean you both. He skilfully opened the shower cubicle door and turned the tap to let the water fall and warm up before stepping you both in, only pulling from you as he began to soften inside of you. Once you were no longer joined, he settled you in front of him- warm water cascading over the pair of you; sharing a delicate smile as he began to wash your body lovingly. When he was convinced he had thoroughly worshipped you with various bewitchingly scented body washes, he moved on to your hair. He adoringly washed the coconut shampoo within your locks before rinsing it from them. When you felt you were fully cherished- you decided to return the favour and lavish him with the same adoration, massaging his muscles and scalp alike- revelling in the pleased little groans and grunts falling from his smiling lips. When the pair of you were clean, relaxed and smelling delightfully of a tropical island- you exited the shower, and dried off with fluffy towels before making your way back to the bedroom. Once there Peter went to the bed and pulled the covers back ushering you to sit on the edge before he walked to your dressing table and plucked a hair tie from it- before coming back to you and settling on his knees behind you. Once situated, he gently tugged the towel from your hair and began weaving the tresses together in a braid- peppering kisses along the column of your throat until he was pleased with his handiwork.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, nuzzling into your neck again- you turning your face to kiss his crown, before the pair of you fell back on to the cushioned mattress and pillows. Peter reached one hand down and tugged the blankets over your frames, and wrapped you in his arms- breathing you in until you both felt sleep beckoning, and you both succumbed.

“I love you…” was whispered to each other, as consciousness left your content selves and you both entered a dream world- which did not live up to your reality.

[iatethepomegranate]

We are not alone in the dark with our demons, Chapter 15

In which Caleb buys a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, becomes a professor, and goes on cute dates with Essek while learning how to be a person. There's also the little matter of taking care of the other Volstrucker survivors, and the children coming up after him.

Content warnings: references to sex as a coping mechanism, Caleb's backstory, reference to institutionalisation

Chapter summary: Caleb and Essek have a nighttime beach date.

Chapter notes: This chapter gets a bit spicy but there is no actual smut because I don't feel like it. Despite the content warnings, it's a pretty chill chapter.

***

Chapter 15: The blue and green below is a masterpiece, but you are beautiful like I’ve never seen

Caleb and Essek, breathless from kissing, stripped naked and stored their clothes in Essek’s pocket plane. Then they waded into the moonlit water, hand-in-hand, until the sand threatened to dip away from them and Essek could barely keep his head above water. Caleb slid his arms around Essek’s waist, encouraging him to float with his support.

“I’ve never had time to do this,” Essek admitted quietly. “The longest I’ve spent here was… you know.” His face pinched, as it often did when he referenced his treason, and the fact he had betrayed his friends long before he had ever met them. “Not exactly, ah, conducive to recreation.”

“We’re here now,” Caleb said firmly; he would not let Essek spiral into self-loathing again. “And you have changed much since that time. As have I.”

Essek relaxed in his grip, just a fraction. “You’re right. Thank you. I’m… trying.”

“I am proud of you.” Caleb had heard this a lot of late, and passed that gift to Essek. He needed it as much as Caleb did. “Shall we try something?”

“I suppose.” Essek sounded nervous.

“Trust me.”

“I do.”

Caleb stepped back and kicked off the sandbank, propelling himself into deeper water. “Come here.” Essek followed him, a little clumsily. But the old muscle memory was there behind the rust; Essek had probably learned how to swim as a boy, and then rarely used the skill. “Float on your back.”

Essek raised an eyebrow; Caleb could only see it because of the stark contrast of white on dark purple. “All right.” This was also clumsy and awkward, and it took him a few tries. But Essek soon found his balance floating on his back on the surface of the water. Caleb took his hand, and floated onto his back beside him.

The water gently tugged them around, and Caleb was careful not to flinch and lose his equilibrium. He and Essek floated together in the deep, cool expanse of the sea. At this time of night, the water and the sky were almost indistinguishable from each other. Mirrors.

Caleb had a complicated history with mirrors; sometimes he would catch a feature in his reflection that reminded him of his mother or his father, and resisted the temptation to smash the glass. The shocks were less frequent these days, and the violent urges rarely emerged now. He and Essek, however, had been mirrors to each other for a long time. And that was a reflection that he could handle. It allowed him to reach out and help this man he cared about in a way that would’ve frightened him even a few months ago.

They couldn’t talk comfortably like this, but that was okay. Often the two of them didn’t need words. Right now, Caleb just wanted to float with him, tethered together by a single hand and the whims of the sea. He was dimly aware that Essek relaxed by inches, floating more easily as he became used to the sensation. Essek was a quick study, and familiar with how to float in the air. Water probably wasn’t that different, really, except a spell was unnecessary.

Caleb counted stars, traced constellations, followed the slow rolling of wispy clouds a shade lighter than the nighttime abyss. He could sense Essek do the same. They let the seconds and minutes tick by in serene quiet, a low rumble of the water over their ears.

Peace washed over them like the sea.

Caleb counted the passing of minutes. Once ten of them had passed, and he felt almost boneless with calm, he slowly let his legs dip back into the water, gently tugging Essek’s hand to request he do the same. They had floated further out by now, and Essek tensed as he took in the distance.

“It’s all right,” Caleb reassured him. “You and I are skilled enough that we will not drown.”

He kicked off, keeping an eye on Essek behind him. Essek paddled along in his wake, and soon they reached a point where Caleb could stand. Not Essek, though. But Caleb had an idea. He pulled Essek closer, dipping underwater for a second to get his hands under Essek’s buttocks. He lifted Essek so they were eye-to-eye, and Essek wrapped his legs around Caleb’s waist. The water took most of Essek’s weight.

“Is this all right?”

“I could get used to it,” Essek said, already more relaxed. He wound his arms around Caleb’s neck. “There are clear advantages to our position.” And he kissed Caleb, who had to step backwards before he could lose his balance and pitch them both into the ocean. That would have killed the mood.

And Essek was very much in the mood. As was Caleb. Waiting for privacy these last few hours had been torture of the sweetest kind. Now they were alone in the vast expanse of sea, wearing nothing but saltwater and moonlight. And Essek was reliant on Caleb to keep his head above water. Essek seemed to quite like that, as he climbed all over Caleb while they kissed each other breathless once again.

Essek pulled back to run his tongue along the muscles of Caleb’s neck, catching droplets of seawater. “Tower?” he breathed against Caleb’s wet skin, making him shiver with cold and arousal.

“Ja. Let’s go.”

***

The time it had taken them to swim to shore and find a good spot to cast the tower had stretched like well-kneaded dough. It hadn’t helped that Essek had kept kissing his neck while Caleb tried to cast, making it take a little longer than usual. But then they were in.

They wound up on the third floor in the library, in front of the fireplace. The extra few floors to a bed had been far too distant, even for Essek, who had a whole thing about self-restraint. Not tonight, it would seem. This was not the first time they’d had sex in this spot, so Caleb was in the habit of ensuring a soft rug was in place, and other necessary supplies were stashed behind a nearby bookshelf, to be revealed upon speaking the password: Kätzchen. No other member of the Nein had a reason to use the word, and it was, on the surface, innocent enough. Even if the context of its use with Essek was most assuredly not.

Essek was in rare form on this night, shoving Caleb onto his back on the rug. “Let me spoil you tonight.” His voice had dropped in pitch, similar to how he used to speak when he had first met the Nein. Except this time it was entirely due to arousal instead of a façade.

“Sounds good to me,” Caleb replied, already breathless.

Later, Caleb lay bonelessly by the fire, eyes shut to enjoy the calm of the afterglow. Letting his heart and breath slow at their own pace. Essek’s fingers weaving patterns through the hair on Caleb’s chest. Quiet, for a time. Just soft crackles of flame and their breaths.

A hitch of Essek’s breath. Caleb opened his eyes, slowly turning his head to find Essek propped up on one elbow, drinking him in with his eyes, like a parched man throwing back a glass of cool water.

“Hallo.”

Essek smiled. “Hello.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I…” He chuckled, sheepish. “I am enjoying the view.”

“Oh?”

“You look very… soft.”

“I am now, ja.”

Essek wrinkled his nose. “Shut up. I am trying to be romantic.”

“Then be romantic,” Caleb replied, because he rarely had the chance to stir Essek up like this.

Essek reached out to the far side of Caleb’s face, tracing his cheek. And then he tucked Caleb’s hair behind his ear. “Your hair… it looks like copper in the firelight. It’s… cute. And you look happy.”

“I am happy.” There were few things that made Caleb happier than a quiet night with Essek, who he loved very much. “Are you happy?”

“Very much so.” Essek leaned down, capturing his lips, draping himself over Caleb’s body in a much calmer mirror to their positions mere minutes ago. Under Caleb’s hands, Essek’s body was dewy with seawater and sweat. He traced the bumps of Essek’s spine with a finger and Essek shuddered above him.

Before they could get too wrapped up in this once again, Essek pulled back. They helped each other to their feet. And finally made it to Caleb’s bedroom. Their bedroom now. He had made some modifications now that they shared a room; the furniture was a blend of Zemnian and Kryn influences, and he had finally added a stained glass window, an amalgamation of their journeys together. Scenes from Rosohna such as Essek’s towers, the Xhorhouse, the Dungeon where Essek had crushed the Volstrucker who attacked Caleb; the Balleater where Essek had confessed to treason; various scenes from Eiselcross and Aeor including Essek’s chambers at the outpost, various archive rooms, the strange domes, the Immensus Gate, the T-Dock that Caleb had disintegrated. Caleb liked to tweak the glass a little every time they were here. He had already integrated the two beach trips, one in sunshine and one in moonlight.

Essek examined the changes to the glass for a few breaths, and then shoved Caleb against the nearest wall to kiss him again. “You.” Kiss. “Brilliant.” Kiss. “Brilliant.” Kiss. “Man.”

It was a rare treat to get Essek to push him around like this, so lost in passion that he stopped giving a fuck. Caleb was putty in his hands.

***

In a moment of downtime, when Caleb’s mind was clear enough for conversation, they picked up the thread of last night’s conversation.

“I’m not sure I would want to sleep with anyone else after tonight,” Caleb said, stretching his arms above his head while Essek lay his head on Caleb’s chest. “You are a hard act to follow, my friend.”

Essek’s eyeroll was so powerful that Caleb could sense it. “I appreciate the sentiment… friend.”

Caleb stroked Essek’s hair, smoothing it out after their exertions. “Forgive me. Force of habit. Would you like me to stop using that word for us?”

“No. We were friends before we were anything else.” Essek sighed. “I treasure everything I have with you, including our friendship. Apologies. You were saying?”

“I was saying I appreciate your offer from last night,” Caleb said, with a bit more clarity. “But I’m not sure I will take you up on it.”

“It’s an open offer,” Essek replied. “I know it’s not relevant at the moment, but I wanted to talk about it without the threat of my impending departure. When that time comes and I must be gone for months at a time, if sharing your bed with someone else makes you feel less lonely…”

“Essek, I understand why you are offering.” Caleb sat up, resting his back against the pillows. “I have a question.”

Essek sat cross-legged at his side. “Ask.”

“We both know this is largely for my benefit. Even if we say this offer goes both ways, for example, you are still far less likely to act on it than I am, purely based on our sexual interests as they are defined in language. I am more likely to find someone attractive than you are, and I am more likely to be comfortable having more than one partner.”

“That is all true,” Essek said warily. “What’s the question?”

“Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that we have been apart for months. And we miss each other terribly. For whatever reason, it is not practical to find a way to see each other even for one night. We are both, in theory, free to sleep with someone else to manage the sexual side of this. Let’s say I decide to do that. You do not. I find some measure of relief. You do not. That is not a fair arrangement. Are you sure this offer comes from a healthy place for you?”

Essek sighed deeply. “I have asked myself that question many times. And the fact is, this is a bigger issue for you than it is for me. You have far more feelings of this nature than I do.”

“Ja, I do. But having feelings and acting on them are two very different things. I have crushes on most of our friends, Essek. I am not about to sleep with all of them.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“No.” Caleb wasn’t resisting hard. If Essek started throwing out names, he would confirm or deny.

“Kingsley?”

“Ja,” Caleb conceded. “That’s an easy one. And very complicated given every inhabitant of his body has flirted with me on at least one occasion. And his late brother was… complicated.” Caleb wasn’t sure how to tell Essek that so much of how he had treated Essek when things had gone pear-shaped was because of Molly’s influence on him.

“Interesting. Who else?”

“Are we really going to sit here on this night of merciful privacy to gossip about my crushes?”

“I rarely have crushes myself,” Essek replied. “Present company excepted. It’s fascinating to me. And, of course, I like to know things about you. And, ah, the next time I make a joke, I would prefer not to make you uncomfortable, even by accident.”

“Well… perhaps you shouldn’t joke about Fjord and Jester in that way again.” Caleb cleared his throat. “Especially Jester.” The closest he’d come to admitting that about Jester had been during a watch with Yasha, a long time ago. And he’d handled it very poorly.

But Essek just chuckled. “I see. Your reaction to my rather poor joke makes sense now. And what of Veth?”

“Complicated.” Caleb had been possessive with Veth some time ago, before he had almost let a horrible cocktail of jealousy and self-loathing drag them apart in a way neither of them had truly wanted. “I love her. As I do the others, ja, but… for a long time all we had was each other. Just two pieces of shit watching each other’s backs because no one else would. Scamming people out of a few coins so we could eat, or find shelter. Sleeping together by the roadside. There is an… intimacy to that. And I have been jealous of Yeza in the past, but that was my problem, not theirs. We’re in a good place now. She will always be dear to me. I’m not sure I will ever truly understand my feelings. At a certain point it no longer matters. I love her, whatever that means. My feelings for you have far more clarity.”

“Good.” Essek leaned in, kissing under Caleb’s jawline. “I am a little possessive of you, myself.”

“Then why offer this?”

“I am possessive, not insecure.” Essek paused, for a split-second, before planting a kiss on Caleb’s neck. “Not anymore. You are a far more sexual person than I, and I am aware you are polyamorous. It is not a hard thing to offer you. I lose nothing from this arrangement.”

Something about that statement bothered Caleb a little, but he didn’t fault Essek for it. “Essek, you know I hadn’t had sex for pleasure in nearly two decades, right? You were the first in seventeen years. I am not about to die if I don’t stick my dick in someone for a few weeks. Or have someone’s dick stuck in me. Either way. Going without isn’t going to kill me.”

“Caleb, that’s not…” Essek sighed. “Look, if this arrangement makes you uncomfortable, you do not need to act on it.”

“I know. I just wanted you to know that, as much as I appreciate your understanding of my sexuality, this is not something I need. I have gone without before, and I would rather abstain than seek comfort in a way that I have found destructive in the past.”

“Astrid and Eadwulf?”

“Ja. There was love, but there was also codependency and using sex as a coping mechanism on the bad days. And then I murdered my parents, had a breakdown, and spent eleven years in a sanatorium while they remained under Trent’s thumb. Not the most auspicious end to a relationship.” He let the bitterness of it all come out in his voice, because he knew Essek would never judge him for that. “For us, it was survival. That’s how it began. Locked in a freezing cold tower that forced us to huddle together for warmth just to stay alive. We never had a chance to be anything else. I don’t want that to happen again.” Goosebumps had spread across his skin with the sensation of phantom cold.

Essek pulled the bedcovers over the both, curling up around Caleb, and the chill was not able to take root. “Thank you for telling me. I don’t… I don’t want you to fall into old patterns. You are getting better every day, and I want that to continue. If the offer of an open relationship bothers you, forget about it. I just… I don’t want to hurt you when I leave. Even if we both know I will always come back as long as there is still breath in my body.”

Caleb lifted his chin and kissed his mouth. “Danke. I appreciate the offer nonetheless. Maybe one day I will be in a good enough place to act on it. But not right now.”

“We have years ahead of us yet, Caleb Widogast.” Essek traded in another kiss. “Speaking of time, the night is still young. How are you feeling?”

***

Later, much later, when Essek had wrung from Caleb every last orgasm he could physically produce in one night, they cuddled in bed. Slowly, Caleb drifted asleep. Safe and warm and loved. This was becoming the norm., and he was learning that he deserved it

Waking with Essek was one of Caleb’s favourite things in the world. After nights like the one they’d just had, Essek preferred to sleep instead of trance, so he would not have to extract himself from Caleb’s grip too soon. That meant they woke at roughly the same time. Finding wakefulness by inches, slowly aware of little aches, and warmth, and points of contact, and Essek’s head on his chest as the man snored softly.

For Caleb, it was a rare treat to wake up first. To observe Essek at rest, especially when he chose to sleep. The tension gone from his muscles, his breathing slow and deep. Curled up like a cat, having claimed one of Caleb’s arms, and his chest for a pillow. Caleb’s arm was dead, but the discomfort was worth it. Essek would wake soon enough; Caleb would never rush this if he could help it.

Slowly, Essek began to stir. A flicker of eyelashes against Caleb’s skin, the tiniest shift of Essek’s cheek against his chest, a flexing of fingers. Sleep left Essek uncharacteristically groggy at first; he typically needed longer than Caleb did to find full wakefulness on the rare occasion he slept.

So when Essek grumbled and smushed his face against Caleb’s neck, Caleb gave him a little squeeze and let him wake in his own time. Even if Caleb needed a piss.

Essek snuggled closer for a few moments, before he rolled onto his back with a put-upon sigh. Caleb kissed his forehead and slid out of bed to take care of business while Essek came to terms with being awake. He also ran a bath while out of sight, because he was sore everywhere and imagined Essek felt similar. Essek was functionally much younger, and more limber, but they also didn’t have nights like that very often. Caleb was sore in places he had forgotten had muscles.

By the time he returned to the bedroom, Essek had grudgingly reached a sitting position with the blanket draped over his thighs, toes barely touching the floor as if expecting it to be cold. The floors were never cold in the tower, because cold floors were terrible.

“Guten morgen,” Caleb said, leaning against the doorframe.

Essek barely turned his head, but did rake his eyes over Caleb’s still-naked body. “The morning could be better.”

“Please eat something first.” Caleb crossed to a fruit bowl he had the cats keep stocked on a small round table in front of his fireplace, grabbing a handful of grapes. He plucked them from the stem, one-by-one, and slid them into his mouth, fully aware Essek was watching him with a rare hunger. “I am running a bath. Care to join me?” He held out the remaining grapes to Essek, who floated over, ducked his head, and pulled a grape from the stem with his teeth.

He slowly pushed the grape into his mouth, crushed it between his teeth, and swallowed it. “I can make time. Bring the grapes.”

They spent far longer in the bath than necessary, and definitely missed breakfast with the Nein. Essek was straddling Caleb’s lap, their hands between each other’s legs. And Essek had absolutely been on the verge of an orgasm.

Then, he froze. Braced both his hands on the edges of the tub, staring up at the ceiling with utter mortification. Before Caleb could ask (though he was sure he knew), Essek spoke:

“Yes, Jester.” He was audibly, and visibly, trying to keep the breathlessness out of his voice, and not doing a great job. “Caleb and I are fine. We will join you later. Please…” His voice became strained, “...do not message us for a while.”

Caleb let out a low whistle. “Bad move, Essek.”

“Shut up,” Essek groaned, shoving his face against Caleb’s shoulder. “Fuck.”

Caleb stroked his back. “It’s all right. She’ll only tease us a little. I can talk to her if she takes it too far.”

Essek let out a long sigh. “I will never recover from this. A traitor’s death would have caused far less suffering than this.”

“Essek? Shut up.” Caleb slid his hand beneath the water once again. “We have better things to do, remember?”

[humanlighthouse]

Oh my gosh ilu 🥺🥺🥺

So... Heihua prompts

What about role inversion? Xiao Hua goes BAMF and rescues Xiazi OR Xiazi has a competency kink OR Yuchen finds and cares for Hei Yanjing when he’s ill.

Hello again darling <3 I hope this satisfies the prompt, I mostly went with the last part of it (and as usual, this is cross-posted on ao3 so don’t be surprised at the notification :p) Thanks!! <3

_________

There’s a flash of light and then a noise so loud it circles back to silence. 

Xie Yuchen is sitting by the entrance to his tent when the blast sends him rocketing off his seat. Beneath him, the ground trembles and groans like an earthquake is rocking their encampment. He isn’t far from the source of the explosion, but the dig site is quickly filling up with thick smoke and a chaos of voices and movements, and he wants to run but quickly discovers that standing is less easy than he expected. As he collapses backward again, his ears ring and his head pounds. 

With some effort, he manages to at least make it back to a sitting position and props an arm on the ground to try standing up again when he spots a long silhouette stumbling out of the smoke. 

Later medical reports will say that Hei Yanjing, real name unknown, has no less than five broken ribs, two on the left side and three on the right, a fractured clavicle and sprained wrist, split eyebrow, not to mention several deep lacerations on all but one of his limbs. 

Xie Yuchen knows none of this. What he knows is that Hei-ye is bleeding heavily as he collapses at his feet, and that his head must have been hit severely because the madman is smiling up at him. 

His hands leave crimson prints on Xie Yuchen’s clothes as he grabs at him, at his arms, at his shoulders, finally at his collar. Even through the fabric they’re cold as ice, and he is so pale under all the dust and blood, face white and lips blue - but before Xie Yuchen can register more or even move, Hei Xiazi’s hands have tugged on his jacket and brought their lips together. It’s a weak kiss that barely feels like one, a second-long press of Hei Xiazi’s mouth against his before a soft exhale brushes his cheek and the man falls unconscious.

Xie Yuchen’s arms go around him instinctively but he finds that he cannot move afterwards. Hei Xiazi still somehow sports a ghost of a smile on his face but he isn’t moving anymore and his glasses are broken. The shattered lense and bent metal are all that Xie Yuchen sees. Later, he will be told that he was in a deep state of shock, and at some later point in time, a therapist will confirm that his reaction was perfectly normal under the circumstances, but as he holds Hei Xiazi’s bleeding body, Xie Yuchen thinks of nothing but the fact that he wants to scream and cannot. 

The word ‘dissociation’ will come up too during those sessions. Xie Yuchen doesn’t know it yet, as he sits by Hei Xiazi’s bedside and stares at the tubes going into his arm. He knows that he has spent something like an hour looking at the hole in the ground where the dig site used to be and tried to understand what had happened. He also knows that he has drunk his entire body weight in water and still feels thirsty. 

He has not spoken to a single person since stepping into the medical tent, despite numerous attempts by well-meaning bystanders. It’s as if his throat is clogged by the words he needs to tell the man on the bed - nothing else can come out before he does. Should Hei Xiazi remain unconscious, Xie Yuchen fears that he might never speak again. 

When Hei Xiazi comes to, he blinks, scrunches his eyes against the light, and immediately winces when it pulls on the stitches holding the skin of his eyebrow together, in that order. There is a sense of normality to his stupidity that strikes Xie Yuchen’s heart like a bolt of lightning and he lets out a breath he had forgotten he was holding. 

At last, at very much last, the words burst out of his chest. 

“What the fuck was that for!” he yells at the blind idiot who startles and yelps in pain. 

“Ow,” he says. And then, “what?” until his brain finishes compiling his last memory and he laughs. Laughs! Xie Yuchen wants to strangle him, sits on the bed to do just that when a wide smile spreads Hei Xiazi’s lips. 

“I thought I was a goner,” he hears him admit in a rueful tone. “Thought I would go out with a bang, but not like this!”

Before he can make good on his murderous intent, Xie Yuchen rises from the bed, or tries to. 

A hand has shot out to grab him. 

“Wait.”

The hand doesn’t stay long on his arm before Hei Xiazi has to pull it back with another wince, bending forward to lessen the pain in his ribs the sudden movement caused. Xie Yuchen turns back and jabs a vicious finger between the man’s thin arms, right into what little fat he has and not on the broken bone, because he isn’t a complete bastard, unlike some people. 

It makes Hei Xiazi wiggle to get away but he cannot escape and his cries for mercy are interspersed with bright laughter. 

“Stop! Stop!”

“Serves you right,” Xie Yuchen accuses as he pokes his side with his other hand. 

It’s a struggle, especially with his eyes still closed, but Hei Xiazi manages to grab a hold of his hands and pins them to the bed on both sides of him. They’re not cold anymore, and at that realisation, all the fight drains out of Xie Yuchen. He lets his head fall forward onto Hei Xiazi’s uninjured shoulder and closes his eyes. 

There’s a body underneath his chest, warm, a heartbeat, loud and steady, and the rise and fall of breaths. Eventually, there’s a cheek resting against his hair, and a voice, low and soft. Even if he hated everything else about the man, Xie Yuchen would love that voice, if only because he is alive to use it. 

“Sorry.”

Xie Yuchen lets a long exhale out through his nose before answering. 

“You have enough to feel sorry about, don’t add an accident to the list.”

There’s a huff against his hair.

“I meant for worrying you.”

I wasn’t worried, Xie Yuchen instinctively wants to say. His eyes open to see scratches on skin, an angry red, and it feels ridiculous to deny it now. He looks up and Hei Xiazi’s eyes are still closed, he cannot see him, cannot see the look Xie Yuchen knows is on his face, so he lets himself stare, just a second too long, before reaching into his pocket and extracting a spare pair of sunglasses from it. As he slides them up Hei Xiazi’s nose, the man’s mouth falls open in a small o of surprise. 

“Thanks,” he says, without the usual sarcasm behind the word. 

When he is sure that he can see him, Xie Yuchen nods. He should… probably go and let him rest, now. He turns, legs falling off the side of the bed, but before he can stand, an arm has sneaked around his waist and holds him back. A small noise of pain comes out from behind him at his aborted movement and Xie Yuchen stops, turning back. 

Hei Xiazi’s face is unreadable except for a few tense lines under the glasses. Xie Yuchen moves the arm away from himself and places it back somewhat delicately on the bed and watches, as Hei Xiazi’s lips press together briefly, before tweaking up sideways like he is preparing to make a joke. This obvious cover-up, more than anything else, seals away any doubt Xie Yuchen still had about the ridiculous man in front of him. 

He reaches out, curls a hand into the sweaty hair at Hei Xiazi’s nape, and kisses him. 

It takes a few seconds, but Hei Xiazi kisses him back with a relieved laugh and happy enthusiasm. His hands come back up to hold Xie Yuchen’s waist, even though it makes his mouth twist in discomfort, and at that Xie Yuchen has to break the kiss. He grabs the hands and firmly pushes them down. 

“Don’t move,” he orders. 

He should have known Hei Xiazi would like that. 

“Oh, kinky,” the idiot says. 

“And don’t speak either,” he adds, too late.

“Make me.”

With a long-suffering sigh, Xie Yuchen moves forward again to comply. 

[bopbopstyles]

harry invites y/n to a grab a date or t shirt dance 😌

CHAMPAGNE SHACKLES

k so idk if my greek culture was weird but we didn’t have that so i decided to turn this into champagne shackles because we all know these hoes would win that and use the shackles for other.....activities. (s/o to @sweetcreatureinthedark for being my advisor on this concept)

READ ELEVATED SURFACES HERE, which this is connected to (masterlist)

“Why can’t you guys get actually good champagne?” You asked, leaning against the wall of the basement. 

Your wrist was shackled to Harry’s, and his other hand was wrapped around an almost empty champagne bottle. Tia Tamera was playing in the background, but you couldn’t dance the way you wanted, so you were just leaning against the wall and letting Harry stand extremely close to you instead. 

Harry licked his lips, the sweet tang of the champagne against his tongue, before leaning into your ear. “Didn’t anyone tell you? We’re cheap as fuck since we have to throw all the parties.”

“Still could’ve gotten us a good bottle at least,” you answer, turning your head enough to nip at his earlobe. 

He yelped and you chuckled against his skin. “Fuckin’ menace. C’mon, help me finish this bottle, so I can get these cuffs off and properly dance with you.”

“We can dance,” you answered. “I might not be able to drop to the ground, but doesn’t mean I can’t make you horny on the dance floor.”

Harry scoffed as you finished your words and took the bottle of champagne, raising it to your lips and taking a long sip. “I don’t get horny. Makes me sound like a twelve year old kid.”

“Harry you get hard the second I touch your dick with literally any part of my body.”

He huffed and pulls away, your wrists clinking in the handcuffs. “Well, c’mon then.” 

You grinned, taking another sip as he pulls you to the dance floor, letting the music flow between you. With the bottle in your hand, the champagne long since room temperature, you pressed your back to his chest and leaned your head against his chest. Harry’s free hand wrapped around your hip and held you close, your ass brushing over his dick as you swayed your hips, the lyrics leaving your mouth with ease. 

The music changed to The Weekend by Louis the Child and you smiled, the song a memory of freshman year that you loved. “Who the fuck made this playlist?” Harry mumbled in your ear, and you laughed because of course he got pissy about this song. 

“You’re the one who leaves it all up to the pledges and the social chair,” you replied and he rolled his eyes in the dimly lit room. Before he could respond, you rolled your hips into his and took another long sip of the champagne, the sweet alcohol swirling in your mouth. 

“Give that here,” Harry said, grabbing at the bottle. “You’re terrible at sharing.”

“It’s champagne, of course I’m terrible at sharing.” He took a long sip and you watched his Adam’s apple bobbed, trying to ignore the fire licking through your body. You could feel the buttons of his sheer button down on your back, pressing into the thin material of your dress that you’d put on for the party. It was supposed to be classy, despite the fact that it was in their house, but you didn’t care because it meant you got to see Harry in a barely buttoned shirt, tattoos on full display. 

It was fucking hot. “How much is left?” You asked, grinding into him until you felt him buck against you. 

“Not much. Want the last of it?” He asked, pushing it into your hands when you nodded. You tipped your head back and chugged the rest of it, Harry grinding against you as you did. When you pulled it away from your lips, he spun you around. “Thank god. Bout to fuckin’ kill one of the guys if I don’t get these cuffs off of you.”

Before he can begin to walk out of the basement, you lean into him. “I had some ideas for them.”

His eyes widen and look down at your face. “Oh? Want to expand on that?”

You smiled, feeling him get even harder against you. “I want to see what you’re like when you can’t touch me,” you told him, voice low in his ear. “When your hands are cuffed to your headboard.”

Harry’s tongue ran over his lip as he considered your words. “I was more thinking of you cuffed to my headboard.”

You frowned. “But that’s so boring.”

He chuckled. “Only you would call that boring.” The music changed again, and Harry’s arm wrapped around your waist, lips dancing up your shoulder. “You want to be in charge tonight, babe?” You nodded, and he muttered a fuck under his breath before pulling away. “Fine.”

That was when you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. 

You pushed him into his room, the party downstairs long forgotten as you ripped each other’s clothes off. You nibbled kisses across Harry’s chest as you. unbuttoned the shirt, pushing it off his shoulders as he tugged down the straps of your dress, letting it fall to the ground as you stepped out of it. You kicked off your sneakers, happy you had decided against heels because you actually had some common sense, unlike the freshman and sophomores downstairs in heels with the pledges in suits. 

The cuff bounced on the duvet as Harry laid down, your body surrounding him as you leaned over him. You grabbed the metal, unlocking them and putting the key on the bedside table, before shifting over him. “Don’t want to go too tight,” you, inching up his bare chest in nothing but your underwear so you could fasten his wrists to his headboard. 

“I’ll be fine,” he told you, lifting his arms, pliant under you from the moment he saw your pink lace lingerie. “Just do it, hmm? Miss your pussy.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you told him, pushing at his chest when he tried to suck on your inner thigh. He chuckled, but dropped his head, letting you do as you pleased. You took his hands in yours and clicked on cuff around one wrist, wrapping the free cuff around the headboard before clicking it around his other wrist. You surveyed your work, tugging on his hands a bit, before settling back. “Can you get out of it?”

“I’m strong but not fuckin’ Superman.” You rolled your eyes and moved down his body, ignoring his whines when you avoided his lips. Instead, you sucked on his nipples, loving how his body keened into yours, your name falling from his mouth in a moan. You tugged off his pants and briefs, leaving him bare below you, and smiled when he bucked into the air, red and swollen. 

“Horny?” You taunted, pressing your cheek to his pelvis, just inches from his dick. 

“Y/N...” 

You were enjoyed taunting him, but not that much. So you licked the palm of your hand, letting spit fall to the skin, and then wrapped your fingers around him. You didn’t waste time, pumping him up and down in a quick fashion, licking over his tip every once and a while just to drive him a bit crazy. His eyes were on your body, watching your breasts rise and fall as you moved over him,  glazed over from the alcohol and desire. “Feel good?” 

“Very,” he replied, breathless. You sucked hard on his tip, cheeks hollowing and he bucked up, something you didn’t mind--kind of liked, actually. Seeming him unravel under you. “Fuck, want to touch you,” he mumbled. 

You sat up, pumping him slower as you adjusted. “Did you get more condoms?”

“Yeah, in the second drawer,” he said, a small whine leaving his lips when you lifted away from him. But he shut up the second you were stripping out of your bra and underwear, letting the lace fall to his floor. “I wanted to get you out of that.”

“Next time,” you replied, ripping open the condom and coming back over to him. You straddled his hips, running your fingers down his chest as he panted underneath you. He looked beautiful like this, spread out just for your eyes, wrists fastened to the bed frame, sweaty hair stuck to his forehead and tumbling down his shoulders. He had threatened to cut his hair and you responded by ignoring him for two days, at which point he promised not to touch it, and you weren’t planning to let him. “I kind of like you like this,” you said, tweaking his nipple and giggling when he yelped. 

“Y/N, please.” He bucked his hips against your thigh and you shushed him, shifting so you could roll the condom down his cock. He hissed at your touch and you smiled, loving the sensitivity of his body. Harry was always a bit sensitive, but tonight it seemed to be even more, perhaps from the handcuffs. 

Your knees pressed into his sides as you rose up, brushing his tip against your slit once and again, a whimper leaving your mouth. And then you sunk down on him, taking him fully in one go. It took you a second to adjust, his long and thick cock fitting snugly inside of you and hitting every inch of you perfectly. “Fuck,” you breathed out, digging your nails into him. 

“Tight,” he choked out as you sat there. You could tell it was killing him that he couldn’t set the pace, but you loved it. Then, you started to move, rising up nearly fully before sitting back down on him, the sound of his deep, rasping groans filling your ears. 

“So good,” you said, holding onto his shoulders to gain some leverage. You pressed back into him, swiveling your hips to create more friction, loving the sound of your skin slapping against each other. “Look so good for me, H.”

“Yeah?” He smirked up at you, face contorting when you squeezed around him. “Going to kill me if you keep doing that.” The cuffs rattled against the bed as you rode him, maintaining a fast pace that had your thighs aching. “Feel like heaven, baby, shit.”

Suddenly, the door swung open and you dropped to Harry’s chest in an instant, trying to hide your body in his. You were literally butt ass naked, the blanket underneath Harry so you had nothing to cover with. Harry’s knees moved immediately, moving up to try and disguise your ass from the view of whoever had busted into his room.

“What the FUCK,” Harry yelled and when you peeked a glance over your shoulder, two of his brothers were standing in the doorway, eyes wide and frozen in place. 

“Are those the handcuffs from downstairs?” One of them had the audacity to ask, and Harry made a frustrated sound you had never heard before. Some mixture of hatred and disdain in his voice. 

“If either of you want to have the ability to have sex ever again, I suggest you get the fuck out.” His hands were forming fists in the cuffs and you were wondering if his wrists were hurting. The boys, however, didn’t move. “You think I’m fucking joking, but you have three seconds,” Harry said, voice so even that you knew it instilled a deep fear in the boys in the doorway. 

The door slammed immediately and Harry sighed, before looking down to you. “Why do people always just bust open your door?” It had happened before and even though you both locked it, the locks on most of the doors in the house were shit. 

“‘Cause they’re idiots. You okay?”

You nodded. “You’re literally still so hard,” you said, sitting up to your original position so you could survey him. 

He chuckles, before lying his legs down in their original position. “Well it’s not like you stopped squeezing me, so I’m not too sure what you expected.” 

“I was freaked out!” 

Harry just rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, baby. Now c’mon--you want to finish what you started? You aren’t going to get a chance to have me in these again.”

You rolled your lip into your mouth, before scratching down his chest. “You sure about that? I can be pretty convincing.” You squeezed around him for special effects and Harry moaned, low and rough in his throat.

“I take it back, you can do whatever the fuck you want,” he said, breathless. “Just please keep going, Y/N.”

You laughed before resuming your pace, both of you still plenty wet from before. You need him to fall apart just as much as you needed to and when he bucked up into you you gasped, your stomach tightening. Hands turned to fists and your head hung as you struggled to hold yourself together as you fucked him. Harry babbled above you, a combination of your name and moans and broken groans that had your head spinning. Then his feet came to rest on the duvet and thighs pressed against your ass, sensing you were tiring, and started thrusting up into you. You whimpered, falling forward onto his chest and letting him finish you off. You sucked on his skin, creating marks across his tattoos that would be visible under his shirt. 

“Gonna come,” he panted. “You close?”

“Yeah,” you answered, lifting your head to look at him. “Love you in handcuffs, you know.”

He licked into your lips when you kissed him, and the taste of champagne on his tongue mixed with his deep thrusts had you falling apart on top of him, breathy moans that he caught in his mouth. He came not seconds after, the cuffs rattling against the bed as he did, your name an echo in your ears. 

When you had both calmed, you grabbed the key from the table, unlocking the cuffs and letting his red wrists fall to your sides. Immediately, his palms were on you, turning you over so your back was on the duvet cover. 

“What would you say to another bottle of champagne and then another round?” He nibbled on your neck and you arched into him, the feeling of your bare breasts against his chest sending you spinning. 

“Can you find a cold one?”

He pecks your lips softly before rising up, grabbing his clothes from the ground. “I’ll do my best.” He pulled on his shirt and then grimaced. “Get under the covers for me, will you?”

You laughed, but grabbed at the covers, watching Harry walk out of the room, red tinged wrists fading as he shut the door behind him.