#if he was trying to keep him away he wouldn’t have given him another statement

[helpimstuckposting]

Guys Jon gave Sam Gerry’s address in order to keep researching, he’s definitely not trying to keep the guy away from the magnus institute

[fastandcarlos]

"She's In Labour...Now?" : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: it wasn't supposed to happen yet, especially with max preparing for a race...

Your body froze, hand coming down to the side of your bump as yet again you felt a stab of pain against your side, struggling to keep yourself balanced. A heavy breath came from you as Sophie’s eyes glanced to your side, immediately moving closer to you. 

Your eyes shut in horror as another twang of pain arrived, leaning against anything that you could find to try and support yourself. Sophie’s hand landed on your back as she watched you, her eyes full of concern. 

“Everything alright?” She asked, although she already knew the answer to the question. “You don’t think you’re going into labour...do you?” 

Your shoulders shrugged, feeling your heart begin to race. “I don’t know, I hope not, Max is about to race any second and I need to be there to watch him.” 

Sophie’s head shook as you spoke, knowing that Max didn’t need to be your priority right now. Before you could argue she had a member of Max’s team rushing around the garage to try and find you, not giving you the chance to protest and assure her that you were fine. 

In a matter of moments Max’s figure came sprinting through the garage, his eyes searching for you. Sophie waved over to him, standing to one side as soon as Max arrived at your side, his arm moving around you to try and support you. 

“Is it happening?” Max nervously asked, looking between you and his mum. 

Just like his Mum, Max didn’t need an answer, already being able to tell for himself. As you went through another stab of pain you grabbed on tightly to Max, letting go of a groan. Max quickly moved to hold you tighter, keeping you against his chest. 

“It’s alright,” he whispered, kissing against the top of your head. “I’m right here with you, I’m not going anywhere,” he added, feeling your eyes glance up at him. 

Your head shook as you tried to step away from Max, but he was far too strong. He kept his hold despite how hard you tried to wriggle out, quickly remembering where you were and what he was supposed to be doing. 

“You can’t be here,” you murmured, “you need to be getting ready to race, you’re on pole, you can’t lose such valuable points Max.” 

“Do you really think I’d leave you right now, like this?” He asked you. 

You immediately felt guilty as Max asked a member of the team to come over, informing them to pass onto Christian that the reserve driver would need to step in for the race. 

“The team aren’t going to be happy,” one of the PR team told him in reply, scratching over the top of their head, “but I guess given the circumstances they’re just going to have to deal with it. We’ll put out a statement and tell everyone that you’re feeling unwell as the reason you’re not there.” 

You looked to Max once more, eyes pleading with him. “We don’t know for sure whether I’m in labour yet, why don’t you at least race? It’s only a couple of hours, I’ll be alright.” 

He didn’t even bother listening to you, his mind was well and truly made up and you wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise. Max didn’t want to miss a thing, and he certainly didn’t want to not be by your side whilst you were in pain too, regardless of whether you were in labour or not. 

Everyone else went to carry on prepping for the race, with you and Max left alone after his mum told you that she’d head off to go and get your things. “I’m not willing to risk anything,” Max whispered, holding onto you as you began to walk over to the car park. “We’re going to the hospital whether you like it or not, I’d rather be safe than sorry.” 

You smiled weakly across at Max; his eyes filled with concern. “I’m not due for another three weeks Max, let’s just wait and see how the next hour goes, it might be nothing.” 

“But it could be something,” he corrected, still full of worry. Max was proven to be right as after taking a couple of steps you felt a pain that you couldn’t describe course over your bump, leaving you doubled over, biting down on your bottom lip to stop yourself screaming. 

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, relying on Max to keep you from falling. Your eyes screwed tightly shut, breathing as well as you could to try and ride out the pain. It took a few moments, but just as it passed, another stabbing pain hit your bump. 

Call it father’s instincts, but Max knew in that moment what was happening. He called for his car to be brought over as soon as it could be, wrapping his arms around you so that he could carry you, doing anything that he could to make life a little easier for you. 

Your arms wrapped around Max’s neck, allowing him to scoop you up. “Turns out, you might’ve been right,” you joked, feeling Max’s eyes glance down at you, as if he knew all along. 

“It’s not about being right or wrong, it’s about getting you to hospital now.” 

The car barely stopped before Max opened the passenger door and sat you in, buckling your belt. The valet passed him the keys as his mum arrived, passing your bags over to Max before shouting that she’d catch you up. Max quickly climbed into the car, putting his foot on the accelerator as fast as he could. 

“Turns out I’m in a different race now, the race with all this traffic.” 

“I’d like to get to the hospital in one piece,” you laughed, struggling to get yourself comfortable in your seat as Max drove as quickly as he could, weaving around the cars on the road that were queueing to get into the paddock and see the race, “and I think our child would also vouch for that too.” 

“I’m not driving like a maniac,” Max told you, but even he was a little doubtful. “Well, maybe I am a tad, but I think I can be forgiven considering the circumstances.” 

His eyes were only half on the road, with Max watching over to you too every time a contraction greeted you. Each one made his heart race, filled with him with nerves as you assured him that you were alright, even though you were far from it. 

It wasn’t exactly how you planned your day, ready to sit and relax whilst watching Max, struggling to believe what was about to happen. 

“I'm so proud of you,” Max whispered as he noticed you staring out of the window. "I don’t quite know what’s about to happen, and if I’m honest, I’m terrified, but one thing I know is that I’m going to be so in awe of you.” 

You smiled weakly back across at Max, “however scared you’re feeling right now, double it and you might feel as scared as I do. But the one thing that I know is that you’re there for me, so that means I’m going to be alright.” 

“I won’t let anything bad happen,” Max promised you, matching your smile. “I’m not going to leave you alone for a second, no matter what it takes.” 

Neither of you quite knew how the next few hours were going to unfold, but as a team, you knew you were going to be alright. The race was soon forgotten as the two of you looked to the future and the thrill of knowing that your first meeting with your daughter was right around the corner. 

“Can you believe we’re about to be parents?” Max smiled across at you. 

“I don’t think it’ll ever truly sink in.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader, Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, John Mactavish, Reader

Summary: Friends and coworkers, Sgt. Mactavish and Lt. Riley have one thing in common: how much they want you, though one is less vocal about it. During a night out, you think you've secured one lover, but suddenly you are leaving out of the bar with both as all that intense attraction comes to a head.

Word Count: 8.8k

Warnings:

“Aye, would you look a’ that,” the Scottish sergeant nudges the silent and skull-masked lieutenant at his elbow, nodding towards the subject that has caused his sudden outburst. “She decided ta come after all.”

Two sets of eyes lock to the door as a familiar face steps foot inside that dingy little hole in the wall bar right outside the base, the one that the boys happen to frequent quite regularly whenever downtime is available. Tonight is one of those nights where most of the squad is here, ready to let loose for the first time in months and though you don’t always feel the need to imbibe with your teammates, tonight…tonight just feels different.

“Fuck, she does look a sweet thing tonight, doesn’t she, L.T.?” Sgt. Mactavish says with an unsubtle lick of his lip just before he takes another big swig of his lager, his eyesight lingering a bit too long on your legs, risking him getting caught. 

How is he supposed to look away when that dangerously short denim skirt and tight little top you’ve decided to wear leaves barely anything to the imagination, that gorgeous figure of yours on display for any hungry beast to devour with his gaze?  

“Settle the fuck down there sergeant,” Lt. Riley shoots back with a lilt of agitation, his sight narrowing with the furrowing of his brow under his black balaclava as he stares pointedly at the younger officer, “ya know the fuckin’ rules about fraternization. Ya really gonna risk it all on a recruit?”

A snort exits out of the scot’s nose as he sets his glass back on the tabletop with just the foam from his beer pooled at the bottom. “Ye sayin’ ye wouldn’t try an get a piece ‘a that if ye had tha chance?” he snickers out the question as the lieutenant raises the bottom of his mask before grabbing his own glass, ready to bring it to his lips. “Guess all the times I’ve caught ye lookin’ musta been my imagination then.”

Lt. Riley pauses with his cup half raised. “Drop it while you’re ahead, Johnny,” the command is firm and he continues on with his drink, hiding behind the disguise of his stoic demeanor to convince the sergeant that he isn’t gnawing at the bit to get another glimpse of your curves in that revealing little outfit as now you’ve given him so much silky flesh for his eyes to devour. He has to bite his tongue hard to keep himself from losing it. 

“Rules be damned, ye know you’d hit if ye had tha chance,” the sergeant whispers under his breath as he waves over the waitress to order another round for himself. “ ‘sides, they’re more guidelines anyways.”

The lieutenant is never going to admit it out loud to the cocky sergeant, but he hates how right he is with his statement. There is something about you he yearns for, that draws his eyes constantly, that keeps him filled with fantasies enough to fuel each one of his late night wank sessions for months and months now. He’s becoming insatiable even though he’s better at keeping a straight face, but inside he is burning just to get a piece of you. Too bad there is no way in hell he’d ever get the chance… right? 

You can feel eyes on you from the moment you enter the establishment, though at first you aren’t sure where they are coming from until you pass by the table where a couple of officers sit on your way to the bartender and you hear the distinct sound of choking. From the corner of your eye you can see Sgt. Mactavish sputtering into his glass, coughing up the beer that’s gone down the wrong way as the lieutenant next to him smacks his bicep and you have to speed up to hide the smile spreading across your mouth.

Drink secured and in hand you cross over to one of the tables sequestered by your company as a small group of privates wave you over and you take a seat, still keeping an eye on a couple of specific officers. This isn’t the first time you’ve noticed certain behaviors from them whenever you are around; at this point it’s almost obvious that they are taken with you, though they still pretend that they are hiding it well.

You like that attention, almost crave it. It’s a strange little game that you can’t help wanting to play with them, but more than that you want it to lead to something. Just a night, one night, to know at least one of them biblically; that’s all you want.  

Every once in a while as you sit there drinking and joining in bits of cheerful conversation, you’re sure you catch them stealing quick glances your way while the other is distracted. You start to wonder: what would it take for either of them to ever risk breaking the rules just to have a little something with you? 

You study them for a while and the two have really been putting them back. All that liquor has to be lessening their inhibitions, evident by the way they start getting sloppy with their glances. Now, instead of sneaking peeks in your direction, they are lingering a bit too long and if you time it right you just might catch them in the act.

The later it gets and the more liquor that snakes its way down your throat, the more bold it makes you and soon you’re thinking about ways you can put that question to the test. You’re not shy by any means, but you know when to play your cards and when to hold your hand and right now you think it’s the perfect time to go all in. If you can just get either one of them alone and make a move, maybe that would be enough to have them give you what you want: a night as their plaything.

Sure enough, not even a few minutes later you lock eyes with the sergeant. It’s only for a moment before he quickly diverts his gaze, but not before you pop off a sly little grin that you know he can see. There’s a reason behind your smile that you know he is able to read. In that split second that your eyes connected, even in the dimly lit bar, it felt like he was trying to undress you with his gaze and now he knows that he’s been caught red handed.

Oh yeah, this is your moment and you are going to take it...but how? 

How are you meant to make your move if neither has been on their own for long enough for you to get close? It’s like they are purposely making it more difficult for you than it has to be… at least that is until you watch Sgt Mactavish quickly stand to his feet, finish the last swig off his new glass, and take off in the direction of the restroom. No clearer sign could be given; this is the only chance you’re going to get and you know you have to take your shot.

It’s now or never. 

Abandoning your drink, you wait a couple minutes before slipping out of your seat and away from your table to make a beeline straight behind your target. The closer you get the harder your heart pounds in your chest. What is your plan once you corner him? There isn’t one, not now that you’re closing in on your goal. This could all blow up in your face, but at least you have to try; the punishment will be worth it.

Closer and closer the door gets until you are on it. Heartbeat in your ears you slowly and quietly open the door and peek your head inside. Your eyes clock only a singular pair of feet and with a quick glance behind you at the rest of the bar, you open it fully and step inside. With the handle still in your hand, you back yourself into the door to softly close it and engage the lock. 

The sound of flushing and the zipping of a fly makes you lose focus before you can finish making sure you won’t be disturbed as the sergeant comes out to see you standing there completely out of the blue.

“Did ye get lost lass?” the scottish sergeant questions playfully as he crosses the small room to the sink.

There’s only silence, his question is left unanswered as you decide that this is the time for action, not words. He isn’t aware that you’ve made your way over to him until it’s too late and you have your hand pressed firmly right to the middle of his taut chest, pushing him back into the wall right next to the sink as you move in close.

“What’s all this about, hmm?” he asks curiously, trying to keep calm under your touch.

You look up into his face, a gleam in your eye that he can’t ignore. “You know what this is sergeant,” you smirk, teeth looking more like fangs ready to sink into his skin, “or do you think I’m oblivious to how you’ve been looking at me?”

Subtle isn’t your strong suit when the liquor starts rushing through your system and right now you are using that to your benefit. Bright blue eyes stared back into your own, a spark as if from a match igniting within them that shimmer through the irises as he stares back at you. 

“Been wonderin’ if ye would pick up on that,” he says as he smirks right back at you, not trying to hide anything now that he has been read to filth. “It’s been gettin’ harder and harder to be coy when yer ‘round.” 

What is he supposed to say again? There is something he should be telling you right now, but he can’t remember as your body presses into his. No, that’s not entirely true. He knows what he needs to say he just desperately doesn’t want to say it, not now when his hands are getting their first real feel of all these curves he’s been dreaming of having under his touch for so long.

But he has to speak up, if only to cover his ass later.

“We shouldn’t, ye know the rules and…” he hesitates with a shuddered breath as his fingertips connect with a bit of skin along your hip and you promptly cut him off.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” you say.

The movement of his hands stops and he looks into your face. “Yer serious?” he questions with a lick of his lips, his jaw shifting as he impatiently waits for you to reply.

You can’t help but smirk. “As a fucking heart attack, sir,” you murmur as you lean yourself into his hands so that he has no choice but to keep them on you. “I know what the rules say, but I don’t care, not tonight. I want you, so what the hell are you gonna do about it, hmm?”

You take his hand in yours and bring it up to your breast, placing the palm directly over your shirt and closing his fingers around the tissue. Watching his hand closely you can see it twitch as if he is struggling with himself on whether he should remove it or keep it there and maybe do something more. 

You look back up into his eyes. “Gonna let this opportunity pass you by sergeant?” you ask, laying the seductive tone on thick for good measure. “I thought you were a man of opportunity.”

Well goddamn you don’t have to tell him twice. The blood racing violently through his veins makes his temperature spike as he grabs you by the waist to spin you round so that your backside rests against the edge of the small sink. He stares at you silently and you fear that you may have overstepped, but then his gaze shifts. 

“Ye best know what yer askin’ for,” he says.

“I do,” you respond. “So are you going to keep standing there, or…?”

Without another word he picks you up with little effort, his biceps straining against the sleeves of his t-shirt, and sets you on the countertop next to the sink. Your legs are already open, but he parts them further with his hip so that he can slip himself between them, hiking up your skirt so that it sits on your waist and leaves your panty-covered pussy exposed. Immediately his hand harshly catches you by the back of the head, making you gasp in response to his roughness.

My, he is an eager boy, all ready to play.

He stares at you, chest heaving pronouncedly up and down as he feels like he can’t take a full breath, the focus somewhere else in his body now. You are caught up in the moment of peering back into those baby blues as they gaze back at you with an intensity that makes your heart pound faster. 

Is it getting hotter in here or is it just you? You can’t tell. The haze overtakes you and the next thing you see is his face leaning in silently and suddenly your mouths are connected together, instantly breaking that tension in the best fucking way possible: with a moist, sticky embrace that has left little room for breathing.

His grip in your hair is strong, holding your head in place so there is nowhere for you to turn and you are forced to accept the brunt of his need on your lips until you can feel them burn the harder he presses. There is stubble along his jaw that pricks your cheeks and the skin around your mouth, adding another layer of sensations to the mix already working on your lips. The taste of the cheap beer that he had just chugged is still on his breath, crisp and hoppy and it hits your tongue with its sharp bite, but it does little to deter you from taking every ounce of his embrace.

Your own hands run up the back of his neck through the cropped bits of hair around his mohawk. The feeling of your fingers against the short hairs make that cocky bastard shiver before melting into you and you sigh into his mouth at the delicious reaction. Is it that easy to make him fold? Oh, you are going to use that against him in the future.  

Strong fingertips bore themselves into your hip, pulling your pelvis more flush against his and fuck if there isn’t something hard already pressing back against your sex; it does feel good to your inebriated brain to rub your barely clothed pussy against the bulge forming through his jeans.

“Shit, ye tryin’ to make me blow right here? Haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet,” he says playfully with a hiss against your parted lips.

Your hips roll into him again. “Guess you better get me the fuck outta here quick sergeant,” you shoot back, “cause I’m not stopping. Gotta itch that needs to be scratched something terrible.”

Catching your bottom lip, he pulls it out of that mischievous smile it is currently contorted into and sucks it between his teeth to give it a nip. “Ye are full of surprises, lass.”

“You have no fucking idea,” you whisper onto his mouth before you are back on him in another flurry of heated, frantic kisses that make you lose track of everything outside of his mouth.

“Ehem.”

At some point the bathroom door had opened and closed, though neither you nor the sergeant had taken notice of the prominent squeak of the hinges. Both of your heads unlock and turn towards the sound of the familiar voice where the imposing figure of the lieutenant takes up the entire frame, his arms crossed over his chest as he stares back at the mess you two have already become. 

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as anxiety sets, making you momentarily forget what you know and fear that this is going to ruin everything for you…until you see it. There is a sparkle you detect in those dark eyes, the same one you’ve seen before. Even with his stoic posture, you know that this isn’t a reprimand that’s coming and it makes you feel at ease.

“L.t.” the Scottish sergeant greets him. “I… I mean we…” 

Lt. Riley doesn’t say a word as the man still between your legs struggles to come up with some explanation for what the lieutenant has just walked in on and as he does you notice that the masked officer isn’t paying him any mind, instead he is staring straight at you. You are full of fire tonight now that you have a bit of liquid courage in you and that makes you prepared to do whatever you need to to get what you want. Instead of letting the sergeant flounder on, you interject.  

“See something you like, lieutenant?” you ask as you keep your eyes locked to him. 

Sgt. Mactavish turns his attention back to you, surprised by your attitude. “What?” you ask him with a chuckle. “Did you not know that the lieutenant here looks at me the same way you do? Or has he been able to fool you?”

Pushing back the sergeant so that you can get to your feet and straightening your skirt back down to at least cover your ass, you make your way over to the other officer currently present in the small space. Those striking amber eyes never leave yours as he looks down at you through the space in his balaclava; this is the closest you have ever been to this beast of a man, but instead of being intimidated at all by his impressive size, you are only thinking about climbing him like a tree.

What’s happening? 

Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out the thought that had just burrowed its way into the front of your brain without even thinking. “You know…there’s enough of me to go around if you want,” you say. 

That strong jaw shifts beneath his mask; is that a smirk you can nearly make out through the fabric? “Is that so?” he questions curiously, that low, gravely tone sending a shiver down your spine. “What makes ya think I want anythin’?”

You chuckle again. “Fine, then tell me I’m wrong, but I can’t help wondering why you would follow us in here,” you push back. “To piss? I doubt it; you haven’t even tried to move from this spot. To catch us?”

You pause, but he doesn’t interject. “I don’t think that’s it either,” you say with a smirk.

Lt. Riley knows you can be strong willed when you want to be, he’s seen it time and again during training and in the field, but now that it is directed at him it is something else… something that is making him weak the longer you talk. 

“Well?” you ask, not letting yourself back down. “Are you going to fess up?”

Several seconds of heavy silence permeate the space and yet the lieutenant still doesn’t speak, not even to confirm or deny your suspicions which already speaks enough as is.  

“That’s what I thought,” you answer yourself with a shake of your head.

Taking a step towards him and extending your pointer finger you poke the tip directly into his sternum as you look up at him through heavy-lidded eyelashes. Even from that one pressure point you can feel how fast his heart is pounding and fuck does that feel like some sort of accomplishment in itself.

“Don’t think you’re any slicker than Sgt. Mactavish over there,” you say under your breath. “I can feel your gaze lingering on me all the time, lieutenant, and I’m certain it’s not because I’ve done anything wrong. Are you going to try and deny that? Come on, sir, tell me I’m wrong.”

Standing back, Mactavish watches from the sidelines as you put that massive man into his place and fuck does that make his heart skip a beat. Strong-willed women are the Scots one weakness, someone to push back when he shoves and give him a run for his money. Just the way you were kissing him seconds ago he knows he would be absolutely knackered come the morning and he desperately wants to get out of here to get started on that as soon as possible. Goddamn, if he gets any harder he is gonna rip through the zipper of his jeans.

You push the lieutenant some more. “So, how about you stop undressing me with your eyes and just do it for real,” you challenge. “Or is your hand enough to keep you satisfied?”

“Watch your tongue, luv,” he says. 

The lieutenant is struggling to find the words to tell you off, but presented with something he desperately wants they simply won’t come to him. So there he stands, silently staring as he comes to terms with the fact that he is throwing caution to the wind and taking what he wants. The only thing that has him hesitant is the fact that you were just wrapped around Johnny.

Sensing that delay you turn your attention back to the only other person in the room with an idea even more insane than actually trying to approach one of them in the first place, but opportunity keeps knocking and you are going to keep answering. 

“What do you think, sergeant? Think we could have another join in with our fun?”  

If it will get him a chance to have you, Mactavish is willing to do anything, even if it means he has to share. It’s not like it’s with some stranger; LT is a friend, his colleague, a blood brother. Actually now that the idea is presented before him, he has to admit that it doesn’t sound half bad. He wants to fuck you, but maybe he wouldn’t mind watching you be fucked too.

“I can share,” the sergeant says with a smirk. “What ‘bout ye, LT?”

Turning your attention back to the lieutenant with a smug grin on your face, you wait for his answer. Lt. Riley shakes his head and follows it with a defeated sigh; this is a terrible fucking idea, but god damn is he in it now. That tension that has steadily been building since you got in close finally comes to a head and the need to take you is overwhelming. All that yearning he has done from afar makes his hands tingle at the thought that they can now be filled with you. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he growls as he gives himself over to his desires and wrenches that god-forsaken mask above his lips urgently, an arm snaking its way quickly around your waist as he turns you both around and shoves you into the wall directly to his right. Instantly his firm, bulky body is pressed tightly into your curves as he lifts your head by the chin and meets your lips with a feverish intensity that sends your fucking head spiraling.

He is pressed in hard, his kiss even more greedy and desperate than the sergeants had been as he steals every bit of your mouth with his own over and over again, rough and desperate being the signature left on your lips until they are on fire from the friction and you can’t breathe.

“Do ya even know how much I’ve fuckin’ wanted to do this?” he groans into your mouth, the feral lust in his words palpable on your tongue. “Since the moment ya arrived I’ve been fuckin’ chompin’ at tha bit to get at ya. Now that I have ya, I’m gonna get my fuckin’ fill, pretty girl.”

One of his large hands slips down into the back of your skirt so he can fill his palm with as much of your ass as he can hold, pulling your hips forward so that he can grind himself against you. You can feel his cock growing hard the longer he is pressed to you; it’s throbbing on your bare thigh as his assault on your mouth makes it impossible to even think of pulling away.

If it had only been one or the other you would have gladly fucked them right here in this filthy bar bathroom, but there is no way to take full advantage of this opportunity presented to you in such a tight space; you all need to go somewhere that will allow everyone to easily get involved in the screw-fest that is about to happen.

“Who’s room’s closest?” you murmur through his kisses burning across your lips as a damp heat gathers between your thighs. “We need to go.”

There is another warm body at your elbow now, moving in against you as the sergeant nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his lips desperately trying to make purchase with your warm, silky skin; he was getting lonely waiting for Simon to finish getting that first bit of contact and he needs more. 

Fuck, is it good to be you right now stuck in the middle of this lust-filled sandwich.

“That’d be me, sweet,” the sergeant groans into your ear, finally answering the question that you had almost forgotten you’d asked.

You break away from the lieutenant long enough to give Mactavish a proper kiss for giving you what you wanted, a little treat for being good before you put the question to the lieutenant. “Are we going or not?” you ask him, hand reaching up to outline his strong jaw with your fingertips.

The touch from your fingertips makes his skin burn under the contact and he is ready to drag you out this instant. “Johnny, let’s go,” he agrees and you all quickly exit the bathroom as inconspicuous as possible, which with the way your cheeks are now flushed bright red and the two men stalking behind you tug at the crotches of their pants is a feat in itself, but somehow you manage… you think anyway.

The moment you are all outside the heat-packed bare and into the cooler night air, the change in temperature seems to fuel your giddiness. No matter where you turn there is a hand or an arm around you somewhere, pulses racing violently that can be felt through all the touches of skin to skin like a drumbeat to make you all walk faster until finally the base comes into view.

But amongst the flirty touches there is a bit of secrecy that the two men share between them, whispers that you can’t quite make out as they keep you preoccupied and you leave it be as you can’t be bothered to care what they keep murmuring about to each other.

You've barely clambered your way inside Mactavish’s room before the tension of the moment can no longer be kept restrained. The door is flung shut with a bang and your body is immediately pinned to it, each man claiming a side of you, desperately exploring every inch of your curves through your clothes as they move in closer. Your needy bodies grind against one another like animals in heat, rubbing and touching, greedy hands roaming until you three are nothing more than a tangled mess of hot, glistening skin covered by a thin layer of fabric.

Lt. Riley is the one to take the lead as his fingers dart to your skirt, lacing them into the waistband and ripping the small piece of jean fabric down off your hips until it crumples to the floor at your feet. You flash him a smile as you pull his mask up and off his head so that nothing restricts you from getting at his lips. You barely have time to register the coif of dark blonde hair and stark features that get revealed to you as you are immediately standing taller on the balls of your feet to bind your mouths together in a kiss that sets his soul on fire. 

A pair of rough, weathered hands glide across all this new skin available to their touch, capturing as much as they can hold, playfully flirting across your lower abdomen and the seams of your panties that still cling to your form for the moment before they too find their way onto the ground. 

Not one to miss out, the sergeant's hands splay up under the bottom of your shirt with fingers that have a need to feel even more skin. You release the brown-eyed lieutenant and lick your lips to get the last of his taste off with your tongue before turning to the other and that spunky scot darts in before you can take a full enough breath to fill your lungs. 

The back of your head bounces off the door as he aggressively takes your mouth as if it is his property, only pulling from your lips long enough to jerk your top and bra up and over your head in one smooth motion, throwing them both to the ground behind him before he dives back in. 

Your wrist is in the lieutenant's grasp now as he forcefully tugs at it, bringing it into place over the massive bulge tenting the crotch of his jeans. The stiff peak meets your touch and bobs in rhythm to match the pounding of his heartbeat and you rub the swell before cupping your palm up against it. His bassy groan fills your head as his lips descend onto your neck in feverish fashion and you undo the clasp on his pants, rip down the zipper, and shove your hand inside the recesses of his clothing to massage him through his underwear.

With your only free hand you loop your fingers around the clasp of Mactavish's own pair of denim and using feeling alone you tug and pry until you are able to unhook the button. He leans his hips into your hand to help and soon the pants are barely clinging around him so that the slightest movement will cause them to fall.

"Open your legs," you hear that heavy British accent as the lieutenant whispers the husky words into your ear from his place just under your jaw as your mouth still dances with the other officer.

There is pressure over your lower abdomen and you adjust your stance so that the gap in your legs is wider. That heavy mitt slides down past the hem of your panties and straight inside, descending right to your petals that he is pleased to find already a good bit damp.

His thick finger teases around your silken lips, tantalizing your body with anticipation before he finally parts through the barrier and drags that thick digit up the length, gathering as much of your wetness on it as he can before he goes in search of that bundle of nerves he knows is somewhere close. A smile forms on his mouth when you buck against his hand as he lands the pad of his middle finger right on it and presses down.

"There she is," he groans and begins to roll his finger around the organ with a soft and steady touch till he has it throbbing.

The need the action produces rushes through your limbs like liquid fire and immediately you pry down the sergeant's pants, a bit of a struggle with only one hand at your disposal, to expose his skin tight boxer briefs that leave nothing much to the imagination as the jeans fall to his ankles. A moan is hummed into your mouth as you find your way past the waistband and wrap those soft fingers around his throbbing shaft. 

Jesus, both of these boys are packing.

He has to release your lips so he can breathe as the intensity catches him by surprise and his body convulses slightly. "Christ, I've been fantasizin' 'bout that soft hand bein’ wrapped 'round my cock," Mactavish moans, his mouth ghosting around your face as your head is dragged back to the other side to reconnect mouths with the lieutenant. The poor sergeant is too absorbed in the ecstasy of your strokes to bridge the gap between his lips and your flesh just yet. 

He is struggling to speak as the pressure from your hand compressing as your stroke makes him lose even more of the little bit of sanity he has left. "Better than I coulda imagined. Yer a natural, lass." 

The scot’s hands know exactly what to do even though his mind is still reeling from that initial contact and when he looks down, he catches himself pawing desperately at your breasts, cupping them in his hands to massage the mounds, enjoying the weight in his palms as he teases the nipples until they are hard. 

The men unintentionally work in tandem as you do the same to them and with your body being stimulated so thoroughly you are quickly becoming putty in their hands with a mess gathering between your thighs that the lieutenant can feel slowly dripping down his fingers. Good, you are going to need everything to be nice and primed for what they have secretly planned. All that whispering they had shared on the walk back had been for a reason, a plot that they came up with on the spot on how to share their treat for the night. 

Why should you have to choose who to start with and who to leave out? No, there's no need; brothers in arms share everything after all - everything- and you don’t have to be no exception. You wanted to go home with them both and that is how they’d like you to take them. The lieutenant taps the sergeant’s arm so that he is forced to break away and a knowing glance is shared between them. 

"I think our sweet thing needs a bit more, yeah?" Lt. Riley asks his partner in mischief as he pulls away from your lips and Sgt. Mactavish nods. 

The sergeant turns his sight back to you and you meet his gaze with an intoxicated, doe-eyed look that makes his heart skip a beat. God, you look stunning as a mess like this and he wants to make it worse. 

"We're just gettin' started," he breathes into your face.

"Come 'ere, pretty girl," the lieutenant beckons as he again seizes your wrist in his grasp and draws you over to the bed, his pants slipping off his hips as he moves and he steps out of them so that when he reaches the mattress he only has his shirt and boxers to remove. 

As a mass of naked, bulked-out muscle now, he sits down and situates himself before spinning you around by your hips, ripping off your soaked panties, and pulling you down so that you are forced to be seated in his lap. His cock prods its way through your thighs so you have to open them, veins throbbing from being so engorged. 

Your eyes lock to it through your lap. "I need you inside me," you moan, positioning your hips so you can try and grind against it. "Please, I’ve waited so long for this."

"Mmm, I like tha way ya beg, sweetheart," the lieutenant praises as his fingertips drift across your throat to feel how quick your pulse races under his touch. "I can't fuckin' say no ta that. Let's fix that ache."

Reaching between your thighs, he grabs a hold of his cock and grips it firmly at the base. His other arm secures you around the waist to his taut chest so that he can lean you both back and align the head with your entrance. You can feel the delicious way it prods right at the hole and your body trembles as you wait impatiently for him to thrust it in, your heart beating out of your ribcage. 

That first bit of penetration as the head of his cock slides in stretches you out so fast that you cry out with a jolt, but that arm around you keeps you from slipping. You continue to whine as he thrusts the rest in until he has you sitting on his thighs completely inside your tight cunt, pulsating. His lips gingerly pepper the side of your head with kisses until your muscles relax and your body finally accepts his girth.

“How’s tha’ princess?” he growls low in your ear with his warm breath trickling down your neck to make goosebumps raise along your skin. 

You nod your head up and down in short bursts as you fight with your tongue to recall how speech works. Fuck, you can feel his pulse as his cock throbs as if it has its own heartbeat.

“Ya feel so fuckin’ good,” Lt. Riley grunts as he grabs onto your waist to guide your body so you slowly start to bob up and down on him.   

It’s a good thing he sets the rhythm for you as you can barely focus on anything as the feeling of your superior stretching you out mixes with the adrenaline rush making you lightheaded, but through that haze you glimpse Sgt. Mactavish and beckon him forward so you can tug down his boxers and release his cock while he flings his shirt up and off his head.

Lt. Riley grabs onto your thighs and holds both of them gripped tight in his large hands, spreading them wide so that Mactavish can easily make his way in between them. The hair-speckled muscles of his abdomen shift along your bare spine as he leans you both back again so that the man before you has better access, both of you needing to be at the right angle to accomplish what is about to come.

"Think ye can take more, angel?" the Scot says with a mischievous grin plastered to his lips as his fist strokes along his cock to coat the shaft in the bit of precum that has dribbled out of the tip. 

There is warmth at the side of your head right at the edge of your ear, a shuddered breath that makes your pupils dilate and your own breathing gets caught in your throat. "Ya wanna have us both in ya, dontcha sweetheart?" the lieutenant growls, the heat from his breath brushing over your cheek as his fingers squeeze around the meat of your legs. "Fillin' ya full, givin' ya everythin' ya could ever want: both 'a us at the same time in this sweet, little pussy."

You pause as you try to think, but all you come up with is that you have never needed anything more than to have both of these men at once. Lt. Riley, however, takes your silence the only way he can, that you are having second thoughts.

“If ya don’t want it luv, jus’ say tha word,” he says. “It ain’t gonna hurt our feelin’s ta take turns. Do ya wanna stop?”

You can sense how close his lips are to your ear and it makes it hard to get the words out so you shake your head instead.

“Ya want us both?” he asks for clarification and you nod. 

He has to be absolutely sure. "Need ya ta say it, luv," he groans as he tenses his glutes, causing his cock to pulse inside you till it pushes you to moan out loud. "Look at your sergeant an say it."

You refocus your sight on the buff, naked man before you who is hungrily stroking himself to the sight gifted to him. The blue of his eyes shift in the dim light, a sparkle that you can't help but smile at as you swallow to find your voice. "I can take more," you say without breaking eye contact with the short-haired sergeant. "I want you inside me too, sir."

"Good girl, good fuckin' girl," the lieutenant praises in that gruff voice before placing another kiss to the side of your head. 

"Such a good little lass for us," Mactavish adds as he steps himself into the gap that’s been so generously created for him. His hands glide over your inner thighs, up and down the tender flesh a few times as if he's adoring it with his fingertips before he grabs back onto himself to align the tip of his cock at your opening just above the lieutenant's that is already stuffing you. 

Leaning his head forward, Lt. Riley's lips gently connect with your feverish shoulder at the nape of your neck and delicate bites are soon ascending up your throat. "Gonna need ya ta breathe, alright?" he says softly with his mouth still lingering just below your jaw. "Jus' breathe, sweetheart. We’ll make it fit."

Your eyes flutter closed as you succumb to the overwhelming ecstasy coursing through you at everything that is happening, but a firm hand under your chin brings you back into the room and your eyes back onto your second lover. 

"Eh, eyes on me, doll," the sergeant says as he holds your face up to gaze into his. "Wanna look inta those pretty things when I enter ye."

The lieutenant's lips rest against your throat as you feel that firm second tip begin to press harder at the top of your entrance, making you wrap your thighs around the sergeant’s hips. You breathe in through your nose deeply as he slowly sinks it in to rest just the head inside the threshold. The glazed over look in your eyes as you take him in is enough to almost send him reeling over the edge. His chest heaves with each breath as his head falls limp, muscles contracting as he pauses to give you all a moment to adjust.

Your whimpers mix with Mactavish's deep grunt and Lt. Riley's satisfied hum to fill the small room with the most unique music these four walls have ever heard. The pain of the intense stretch gradually eases after a moment and now that pleasure has taken its place you beg for the scot to keep going.

He smiles hungrily."Almost there, lass. Jus’ a bit more.”.

"Fuckin’ look at ya. You're doin' so well, sweetheart," Lt. Riley moans more of his praises as the sharp edge of his teeth drag across your neck, doing everything he can with what he has available to him to make sure your body stays in a state of pure bliss. 

Mactavish's fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts again, this time all the way till he reaches the base of his member and you buck backwards, but the lieutenant has you secure in his arms so that you don’t go anywhere. 

"Tha's it, pretty girl, tha’s it," he mutters sweetly as he lifts his head to find your cheek, nuzzling against it while placing sweet kisses along the surface. Your face is burning and he can feel it against his mouth.

"God, ye are a marvel," Mactavish adds with a hiss trailing the end of his sentence. "A fuckin' dream."

All the undivided attention, all the stimulation and heightened sensations of pain and pleasure has you in a daze of ecstasy so powerful that your head is spinning, drunk off all that intensity and they have to take control as you can only manage to take what they give. 

Rotating your shoulders and turning your head with a bit of effort you find the lieutenant's face and before he can even think you immediately move in for the kill, connecting your lips with force. His hands compress around your thighs the harder you go in so that he can meet you with the same intensity. Your mouths dance together for a few more minutes before you wrench your face away only to have your hands reach out to find their place at the back of the sergeant's neck to pull him into a kiss just as heated. 

No one gets left behind tonight. 

Lt. Riley takes the opportunity of your distraction and rolls his hips to start thrusting, wanting to take you by surprise and it does. The whine you release into Mactavish's mouth is his evidence that he's done just that.

"Fuck," the sergeant exclaims in a burst as he too feels the effects of the lieutenant's movements and instinctually bucks his hips into you, causing you to whine louder. 

Your head falls back against your superior's firm shoulder, your arms raising up to wrap around his neck to help you hold on as the two men begin to drive themselves deeper and deeper into your sopping wet pussy, stretching your tight hole to capacity. Your breasts bounce in rhythm, your body forced to move with the strength of their combined thrusts as eyes are locked onto the delicious sight of your body taking them. 

Lt. Riley’s hands are still preoccupied with your thighs, but one of Mactavish’s is free and he uses it to cup around the plump bit of tissue to massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger for the second time; the man just can’t keep off them. “Ye don’t know how much I’ve wanted te get at these juicy things,” he groans at the feeling of your soft skin filling his palm. “That’s why I was always makin’ ye run laps just te see ‘em bounce.”

You knew that’s what it was, why he always seemed to single you out in training when you swore up and down that you didn’t do anything wrong. So this had been a long time coming, a desire that had been long held.

“Knew the moment ya stepped on base, ya were gonna be trouble for me,” the man behind you pants, wanting to add his own two cents. “Told myself not ta look, rules and all, but fuckin’ hell sweetheart, how could I not? Ya got in my head fuckin’ quick. An’ with that strong, bull-headed attitude to match; christ, you are a deadly thing, luv.”  

They find their rhythm in tandem, keeping pace with one another to get every benefit of slipping through all that slick, all parties working to that one collective end of everyone cumming like a three-headed monster of ecstasy. Thrust after thrust, bodies stimulated from adrenaline, you all are drawn even closer to that most satisfying end.

“You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good, sweet girl,” your lieutenant praises and the sound of his voice is almost enough to make you break. “You gonna cum for us, yeah? Need ya ta cum.”

You swallow, your mouth dry from hanging open as it’s too much to hold in all those delicious moans. “Close,” you mumble into the small space created by your bodies, but all this friction is working a little too well for your lovers.  

The sergeant is the first to break. “Shit, gonna fuckin’ come,” he groans as his abs strain, the pressure in the base of his stomach almost at its peak. Fuck, it’s just too satisfying to last any longer. 

The other isn’t too far off either. “Ya ready for it?” Lt. Riley says, his breathing shaky and uneven. 

You nod your head, a little disappointed that you aren’t fully there yet, but you know it can’t be helped. “Good girl,” he moans. 

The sergeant pulls out first and you take his cock into your hand, tightly holding onto the shaft to stroke it towards your breasts as the lieutenant stays in to keep going. Lt. Riley is so close he can feel that tightening in the pit of his stomach about to snap and with a few more ragged thrusts he too pulls out to be met immediately with your hand that keeps up the stimulation. Having both of their cocks in each one of your hands, you stroke them furiously.

Finally the moment of no return is reached and the Scottish sergeant is the first to go, the stringy spurts of milky white cum hitting your chest to gather between your breasts as he shudders in your hand. Through his grunts and moans of pleasure as you stroke his cock of everything, your lieutenant blows too and the warm fluid shoots up between your thighs to cover your lower abdomen. You don’t stop your work until your hands are forcibly removed and only then do you finally let them go.

But even though they are finished, they aren’t done with you yet- oh no, you are going to cum if it’s the last thing Lt. Riley does.

You are taken by surprise as there is suddenly a finger circling your clit and you moan into your throat. “Did ya think it was over? Can’t let ya not get yours, luv,” your superior whispers into your ear. “Want ya ta come for me, sweet. Come on my fingers.”

The two middle fingers on his hand are immediately shoved into your dripping hole and he curls them again and again over your G spot with a steady touch until he has your thighs quivering. Not one to be outdone by his superior, Sgt. Mactavish falls to his knees and leans in, his heated, panting mouth advancing to just above the lieutenant’s fingers so that his tongue can lap at your clit.

Lt. Riley can feel your swollen walls as they start to flutter around his digits, your hips bucking wildly over Mactavish’s face as you stroke your fingers through the hair of his mohawk. The lieutenant needs you to come, he needs to feel that you’ve gotten yours; you’re not leaving here unsatisfied as long as he’s around. A few more curls of his fingers and strokes of your clit and you go silent as that tightening in your belly is pulled completely taunt and all at once snaps. 

“Tha’s it,” your superior says amusedly as you let out a cry and your walls clamp down around his fingers, “good girl. Ride it all tha way out for me, luv. All tha way. Fuck…there ya go.”

You grind your hips into his hand and against the sergeant’s features until you can’t go anymore and settle back against Lt. Riley’s hot chest in contented exhaustion. The lieutenant’s fingers lay resting inside you as Sgt. Mactavish pulls back from your pussy, face dripping and accentuated with a smile before he wipes the contents away onto the back of his hand.

The sergeant looks so pleased with himself. “Been a while since a pretty thing’s ridden my face,” he says. “God, I missed tha’.” 

The lieutenant lets you ride each balmy wave of ecstasy that washes over you to its end before the fingers inside you are pulled out and he brings them to his mouth to lick them clean as Sgt. Mactavish tilts your chin up and leans in to leave you with a breathless kiss on your raw lips for a job well done. He is more gentle this time, more sweet, and you swear you can feel his mouth turn up into a smile against your own that you can’t help matching. 

The break in the kiss is slow and as he pulls away he strokes your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Ye were brilliant lass,” he says, punctuating it with one last peck on your lips as he moves back. 

The lieutenant helps you off of his lap and sets you carefully down onto the bed beside him, making sure you’re steady before letting you go as the sergeant steps off somewhere into his room. You don’t pay much attention as your sight is focused on your superior, taking him in without the hindrance of his mask as he stares back at you.

“Ya really did so fuckin’ good, pretty girl,” he praises, admiring all that visible heat in your cheeks that he is partly responsible for. “But I knew ya would.”

He leans in to place a grateful kiss to your parched lips and you graciously accept it, letting your lips linger for as long as possible. Just as the kiss is broken, though, the squeak of metal is heard followed by the sound of rushing water and you both turn to the source to find Mactavish standing naked against the doorframe of his bathroom.

“Comin’?” the sergeant calls out.

Lt. Riley immediately goes to stand and offers you his hand. “C’mon, we need ta get ya cleaned up, sweetheart. We made a bit of a mess,” he says as he helps you onto your feet and guides you by a hand placed to the small of your back over to the shower and the warm water waiting to coat all of you. You stare up questioningly into his face as you go, but he just smirks as if he’s guessed what you are thinking. 

“Don’t ya worry, night’s still young and we ain’t gonna be done for a long while yet.”

[ozzgin]

HIIII I was wondering if I could request an Inuyasha x Reader lime of the reader trying to explain to him that in the modern era people have sex for *fun* not just to have kids?? I think it’d be really silly lol!! If not that’s ok :3 take your time and take care of urself <333

—⛓️ (chain user anon)

It’s something I have considered given the amount of kids that popped up in the sequel, haha. I shall do my best, I’ve never written limes before so I’m curious to see if I can actually expand on more provocative topics. Thank you for the suggestion!

Inuyasha x Reader Headcanons

Featuring Inuyasha and a reader showing him the ways of casual intercourse. This is a lime so expect vaguely NSFW content.

You’ve been dating for months now and yet Inuyasha has barely touched you, save for the occasional kiss. Which you partly understand, you wouldn’t expect him to aggressively start groping you in front of the others, but even when you’re alone he keeps a certain distance and it confuses you greatly.

It doesn’t help that he’s a massive tsundere and getting him to talk about his feelings is a Herculean task. He’ll blush, avoid eye contact and just bark short, vague responses in hopes that you’ll stop pestering him.

You reach the point of exasperation when you ask him point blank if he’s just not attracted to you, in which case why even bother dating? His eyes widen in shock, completely taken aback by your statement. Was that what you’ve been thinking? He vehemently denies it but you don’t back down without an explanation. Finally he mumbles a barely audible reasoning. “I just don’t want any kids right now.” Now it’s your turn to stare. “Wha- How is that related to anything?”

It dawns on you that Inuyasha associates sex solely with reproduction. It’s not like he’s had any context to be provided a different view. You hold back the snicker that was about to escape your lips, as you don’t want to embarrass him any further. You find his archaic beliefs cute. Thankfully you’ve been prepared for quite some time now, so you quickly reassure him that it is, in fact, entirely possible to avoid offspring while still having fun. As you expand on your explanation you pull out the small box of condoms that you’ve been keeping in your backpack.

He doesn’t really understand the object you’re showing him so you decide that a concrete demonstration will clear up any confusion. Although you have to wrestle him onto the ground to convince him to take his clothes off. There are five stages of grief and you wonder if there’s a similar concept regarding someone too embarrassed to have sex. Refusal to undress, anger at being seen naked, bargaining to leave it for another time - and this is where it takes the turn - curiosity about giving it a try and finally, acceptance.

You don’t have to struggle too much, truth be told. Your body is the final argument and he can’t say no to the sight. Within moments he’s biting your collarbone and panting for more.

Once he gets over the initial shyness he’s almost like a dog in heat. He’ll constantly find excuses to temporarily separate from the group and have his alone time with you. He’ll insist on following you trough the well and to the store so he can proudly stand next to you when you restock on condoms. “You bet I’m the one hitting that” he thinks with a smug expression. Dear Lord, you’ve created a monster.

Though sometimes after your special time together, as you rest your head on his chest, he will lazily daydream about leaving the safety aside and actually starting a family with you. His ears twitch excitedly at the thought. And then a new idea strays away from it: can he still do it with you if you’re pregnant?

[arealphrooblem]

A Good Roommate Is Hard To Find

Synopsis: Civilian has harbored a secret crush on his roommate for a long time, only to find out that said roommate is the newest villain on the scene during a robbery at his job.

CW: death threats, knives

There was only one thing worse than having a crush on your straight roommate: having a crush on your straight villain roommate. 

Actually worse than that were rent prices, which kept Civilian from running as far in the opposite direction as he could get after he gave his statement to the police. 

A statement that contained a big, gaping hole. 

Because it couldn’t be true, right? It had to be a coincidence. Lots of people had weird, star shaped birthmarks on their ribs. It was a huge leap of logic to assume that the villain who had just tried to rob the bank that morning had the exact same birthmark as Civilian’s roommate for the past two years. 

Or maybe he just imagined it. It had been a very traumatic day. Civilian went home after the police released him and had a massive panic attack in the shower for about forty five minutes and then pressed two weighted blankets on him in bed like a panini grill. 

Having a group of villains stride into your workplace, guns blazing, would do that to you. As would getting stuck in the crossfire between said villains and the Hero from behind a desk, praying a stray bullet or laser beam wouldn’t hit and kill you. 

It was only a coincidence that Civilian had seen the birthmark. Near the end of the fight, one of the villains had been thrown over the very desk Civilian cowered behind, hitting the wall hard enough that even Civilian winced in sympathy. 

He laid there for a moment, dazed, half his torso exposed from a rip in his clothes, that stupid, undeniable birthmark on full display. Civilian could only stare at it, head dizzy as if he also took blunt force trauma to it. The villain groaned and sat up. 

For one agonizingly long second their eyes met. Civilian felt like a kitten spotted by a hawk. This was it. His time was up. He’d be just another statistic on the news -- 

But the villain just put a finger on his lips -- a silent command for silence -- that Civilian could only nod helplessly at. Then the villain slipped away in the chaos and disappeared. 

And besides, it couldn’t be his roommate because his roommate was in Colorado, visiting some online friend of his and going mountain biking or whatever. 

Two days after the attack, Roommate burst through the front door, dumping his duffel bag onto the floor and stepping towards Civilian with a scary single minded determination. 

It took every ounce of control not to flinch when Roommate cupped his face, gaze roving over his features as if looking for injuries. 

Roommate himself looked untouched from the fight. It almost made Civilian second guess himself. But he hadn’t spent the last two days analyzing every detail his love-sick brain had filed away for the last two years to doubt himself now. 

That villain and his roommate were the same person. 

“I saw the news,” Roommate said. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt? I tried to change my flight but this was the soonest I could get in.”

The lie hurt. Obviously Roommate hadn’t been mountain biking in Colorado for the past few days so it begged the question: what else did he lie about? Was this concern just an elaborate play at innocence? But if his roommate was taking the time to craft this act of concern, then he must not think Civilian knew. 

And if Civilian valued his life, he’d have to keep it that way and force normalcy. 

“I’m fine,” he said, trying for a smile and coming up with a grimace. “I mean, I’m not fine. It was fucking scary, but I didn’t get hurt. So there’s that. Work’s given me a week off and then. . .”

Roommate scowled. “And then what? They can’t possibly think you’d be okay working there again after only a few days off? You should quit.”

“Quit?” Civilian’s eyebrows raised. “And we both get thrown out on our asses? We’re lucky enough to have this apartment as it is.”

“I have enough savings to get us through for a few weeks while you find another job,” Roommate insisted. 

“I thought you blew it all on Colorado,” Civilian joked weakly. 

And where the fuck did those savings come from? he wanted to ask. But he didn’t dare. 

“Not all of it. Seriously. You should think about it.”

Something gleamed in the roommate’s eyes, like a warning. Civilian swallowed thickly and nodded. 

“Okay. I’ll think about it. I just . . .I think I’m going to go lay down for a bit. It’s good to have you back. You’ll have to tell me all about it when I wake up again.”

Roommate’s face lit up with a smile and Civilian’s heart twisted in his chest. “I have so many good photos. It’s beautiful out there.You should come with me next time.”

“Yeah sure,” said Civilian thoughtlessly, thinking only of the dark safety of his room. 

“Get some rest.” Roommate nudged Civilian towards the hallway. “I’ll order us pizza.”

Civilian nodded and forced his steps to slow as he made his way to the bedroom. Once the door shut and the fan turned on, he buried his head under his pillows and tried to get his breathing under control. 

Faking normalcy was going to be harder than he thought. 

"Oh you're starting dinner already?"

Civilian jumped at the sound of his roommate's voice, the knife slipping and nearly cutting  into his fingertip. A quick glance over his shoulder showed his roommate leaning against the opposite counter, arms folded loosely over his chest. 

Just a casual chat. And yet it felt like a fist suddenly gripped Civilian's heart. Even after three days, it still felt like walking the knife’s edge every time they were in the same room together. 

"I, um, got bored," he said, thankful to be facing away so his terror wouldn't show as he fought it back down. "I didn't know you'd be home so soon."

"I took a half day at lunch. Did some shopping. I got you more of that tea. It seemed to help you sleep."

A hint of guilt colored his roommate's nonchalance. Or maybe Civilian just imagined it. 

"Thanks," Civilian said.

Focus. Focus on the potato. Cube the potato. Be the potato. 

Heart thudding in his ears, his concentration on chopping vegetables, Civilian didn't hear the movement until his roommate's head appeared over his shoulder. 

"What are you making?" he asked. 

Civilian swallowed down a lick of sudden hysteria. 

Get a fucking hold of yourself he thought. There is no reason why he'd be suspicious unless you're acting like a lunatic!

"Soup," he managed to croak. "The, uh, kind at the Italian restaurant you like."

A bribe. A hope. A way to remind himself that he knew his roommate, right? They've lived together for two years. 

And true to form, his roommate's eyes brightened. "Oh excellent! We haven't had that in ages."

"That's because chopping all these vegetables is a pain in the ass."

A thick tension rose and tightened between them. Civilian concentrated on chopping, trying to ignore the heat at his back as his roommate didn't step away, didn't leave. Just watched him. 

"You're using the wrong knife, you know," the roommate said softly. 

" . . .what?"

The roommate reached over Civilian's shoulder to the knife block on the counter and pulled one out. It was small and two fingers wide, short and wickedly sharp. Fear clenched Civilian's throat with icy hands. 

"You're using a butcher knife," his roommate murmured against Civilian's ear. A shiver fluttered down his neck. "That's for cutting meat. You need a paring knife for vegetables."

" . . .Oh." Was it just him or did the kitchen suddenly feel low on air? "I'll . . . remember that . . .for next time. . ."

"Why don't I take over? At least for the chopping."

Civilian tightened his grip on the knife, an instinctive gesture he had no control over. But even though Roommate had offered help in the kitchen many times, that same instinct screamed not to let him. Something felt different this time. 

"I got it," he said, forcing lightness in his tone. "You know you're hopeless in the kitchen."

"I'm good with knives, though." Civilian swallowed down another spike of cold terror. "It's the least I can do if you're making me my favorite."

The paring knife rested just inside Civilian's peripheral, deceptively harmless. 

"Why don't you put the gnocchi on to boil," he said. "I'm almost done here."

His roommate sighed, a rush of air against Civilian’s cheek. "You're always so stubborn," he said with sad fondness. 

The paring knife moved like a flash and suddenly it's cold steel pressed light as a kiss just under Civilian's jaw. 

His breath froze in his lungs. 

"Drop the knife, Civilian."

" . . .Roommate?" It wasn't difficult to pitch his voice high in uncertain fear. To pretend shock. "What are you doing?"

"I know that you know."

"Know what?" Civilian breathed and then cringed at how unbelievable it sounded even to his own ears. 

He only had room in his head for one secret,  it was hard to sound convincingly ignorant when every cell screamed at him to run away. 

"You've tried so valiantly to hide it, but I know you too well." Roommate's murmured against his ear.  "You're afraid."

Civilian dragged a shaky breath into his lungs. "You have a knife to my throat."

"And you are nowhere near as shocked about that as you should be." Roommate twisted the knife until the flat of the blade lay against Civilian's skin -- and then he dragged it, achingly slow, over Civilian's jawline to rest against raw bitten lips. 

A wave of dizziness gripped him, driven by fear mixed with the heady, dangerous edge of want, the desire Civilian struggled with for so many months wrapping its claws around his chest. 

"Be a good boy and drop the knife."

Breath came fast and heavy as he willed himself to relax his fingers, to release the knife. Not that he would have even thought of it as a weapon and not a kitchen tool until his roommate demonstrated it. But with one having danced so close to his pulse, letting go of his own felt like a death sentence. 

The second he dropped the knife, his roommate twisted a hand into the fabric of his shirt and hauled him across the kitchen to pin him against the fridge. The smiling tomato magnet they grabbed as a joke at a yard sale clattered to the floor and broke into pieces. The roommate  doesn't so much as flinch, their gaze like stone, the knife never wavering from Civilian's neck.

He swallows thickly against the panic, never more afraid in his life than in this moment. He never thought death would look like his favorite person in the world ready to slit his throat with a paring knife. 

And yet the desire still thrummed beneath it all, a twisted hunger being fed from such close contact, like his body forgot to stop yearning in light of what his mind knew. But the stone-cold glint in his roommate’s eyes twisted his face from comfortingly familiar into dangerously unrecognizable. 

Seeing it shattered something in Civilian just like that stupid magnet. His eyes prickled and stung; the roommate's face turned blurry. Humiliated, he darted his gaze to the window, focusing on the speck of green of the neighbor’s tree swaying in the breeze. 

And waited for death. 

Time stretched long and excruciating between each heartbeat. Then the coolness of the knife disappeared, replaced by warm fingers that nudged his gaze back to his roommate’s.

“Hey,” the roommate said softly. 

That granite hardness of his gaze had melted into soft concern. The exact kind of look he gave Civilian each time a migraine flared up. The reminder of that felt as dangerous as the knife. It couldn’t be real. 

“Hey, it’s okay.”

The words hit him like a slap to the face. 

“Don’t say that!” Civilian hissed. “I didn’t do anything and you’re going to kill me.”

He flinched from the hand that raised up, knocking his head painfully against the fridge. But Roommate only brushed a stray tear away with his calloused thumb. 

“You’re right,” he said pensively. “You didn’t do anything. And I’m not going to kill you.”

He turned and tossed the knife into the sink. Civilian did not feel any safer, however. He felt like a bug under the shadow of a boot,  even as Roommate smoothed his hands over Civilian’s chest in a display of casual affection he would have died for a week earlier. 

“Here is what I am going to do,” he continued. “I’m going to finish dinner. You’re going to compose yourself in a long hot shower and when you get out we are going to eat and have a discussion about the way things are going to be from now on. Is that alright?”

Civilian nodded, not trusting his voice. What other answer could he possibly give?

Part two here

[mitsvriii]

Criminal, Part 2

Any reader type

Lyney x reader

Spoilers for the Fontaine Archon Quest

506 words

Fluff

Tags: @soleillunne, @maehemthemisfit, @fuufuuboba, @forgotten-blues, @sketcheeee, @mellowberrie, @unknownlololol, @natoreo, @swivy123, @ishouldstopdaydreaming

I will work on part 3 of this after I finish more of my drafts, thank you for the support on part 1

A knock at your door. A soft one, albeit a bit harsh all-in-one. There wasn’t any callout, just a the knock. No answer came from behind the door. Sighing in somewhat defeat, Lynette stepped back from the door. She had came over to your house to try to explain the entire story to you.

Lyney wasn’t aware of her plan still, so that would explain why she currently wasn’t being dragged away from your house at the moment. He didn’t want to talk to you because, “{Name}’s statement was clearer than a crystal”.

She shifted her hat on her head as she stared at the door for a few seconds longer. Blinking blankly Lynette turned to walk away, her face showing defeat.

Maybe you were just away, or you could’ve headed back after the trail to see Lyney. You always were unpredictable in moments.

Slowly Lynette made it back to the theater, her face still in its normal, monotonous state. Humming a small tune to herself Lynette turned to head into the theater but stopped when she heard your voice from afar.

Walking silently, Lynette followed the sound until she saw you talking to Lyney surprisingly enough. Raising an eyebrow Lynette chose to hide behind the corner out of sight, keeping her ears open.

A sigh left you as you seemed to, shift? It was hard to tell what you were doing without giving away her position.

“I’m sorry.” Your words came in a somewhat depressing tone, and Lynette swore she could hear Lyney suck in a breathe.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe in you and Lynette. I should’ve listened I-I didn’t need to walk out like that.”

Lyney was still silent and soon your voice ceased, too.

“Okay, that’s fine.” Lynette furrowed her brows. She knew that he had a soft spot for you but saying ‘that’s fine’ to the whole situation was another thing.

“It’s not? Lyney…you should be furious.” Lynette nodded to herself, you seemed to have some sense left in you.

“I know”, it sounded like he stepped closer to you, “but if our positions were changed I would’ve given up on you, too.”

“No you wouldn’t have”, Your reply was quick.

Lyney sighed, and he stepped closer again. “I suppose you’re right I just…I just know that with your relationship with the fatui you were just defensive.”

More silence followed and you soon huffed, “Is that right? I guess it might have.”

“I know it would be too brash to ask you for a meal to reconnect, but..I just want to talk things out.”

“Fine”, you retorted after a few seconds, “Fine I suppose we can have lunch together to clear things up.”

“That’s perfect”, Lyney’s tone seemed to be laced with joy, “I guess I’ll meet you after I clear up some things in the theater?”

You must’ve given him some form of confirmation because Lyney soon started to walk away. Taking this as a sign to leave, Lynette ducked away. Maybe her words did get to him after all.

[melon-fodder]

Love You to Death • T. Hiragi

Warnings: angst, crying, insecurities, light sexual content

Word Count: 1k

Note: a @pixelcafe-network challenge! I was given the song Love You to Death by Type O Negative and did not think I’d make it in time, but then I decided harness my bad brain day into something creative. Some of the lines are taken by/based off of the lyrics. Dividers by @/adornedwithlight.

You struggle with it. Often. Wondering if you’re good enough for him—knowing you’re not.

He’s so strong, so honorable, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders while caring for you. You’re just another stressor, just another stomach ache.

Usually you can keep your doubts to yourself, work through them and rationalize. If Hiragi didn’t want to be with you, he wouldn’t be, right?

But there are some days when he can just tell. It’s the set of your jaw, the sag of your shoulders, the way you take things the wrong way and then punish yourself for it.

You don’t deserve him, and he deserves so much more than you.

That’s what you believe, anyway.

Hiragi on the other hand…

“Stop being so fucking mean to yourself,” he tells you, begs you. “Hate when you get like this. What can I do?”

“It isn’t about what you can do, Toma. It’s about what I can or can’t or should do. It’s—” you hiccup, frantically wiping at falling tears. You hate crying because of shit like this. You’re already such a burden, and now it feels like you’re manipulating him. “It’s all the ways I should be better for you.”

“You’re perfect for me,” he insists, taking hold of your wrists to pry your hands from your eyes. “Look at me.”

You don’t, not until he gently takes hold of your chin. “Baby… if I wasn’t happy, I’d talk to you about it. I promise.”

All you can do is try and fail to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Wish you’d do the same. Just talk to me.”

“I am happy with you. You make me happy. And you—you do so fucking much for me. I’m just s-so scared that one day you’re gonna—gonna realize that you’re tired of putting up with my bullshit.”

Your voice is all over the place, wet and warbling, squeaky then silent. You can’t control it, can’t control anything about yourself, it seems.

“I’m not putting up with anything,” Hiragi tries, “I’m not makin’ any sacrifices.”

“I don’t believe you,” you respond quietly. It’s not angry, nor is it argumentative. It’s a statement of fact because— “I don’t understand how you could, like, not get frustrated with me.”

Hiragi chuckles, the hand on your chin has moved to the back of your head to lightly scratch your scalp.

“Oh, I get frustrated with you, make no fuckin’ mistake. Just not for what you think.”

You stay silent, just stare at his handsome face, enjoying the weight of his hand in your hair.

“It’s not your little piles or your forgetfulness or your inability to be on fuckin’ time to anything,” he lists, and you clench your teeth to fight back more tears. “I don’t care about those things. Not anymore, anyway. It’s when you let shit fester and start spiraling and you don’t talk to me.”

You rest your head in his hand and shut your eyes, not surprised when you feel him wipe away the droplets streaming down your cheeks.

“Can’t help it,” your murmur. “Chronic overthinker.”

“Yeah, I’m well aware,” he says, and when you crack your eyes open again you see him smirking.

Fingers dig into your scalp with a little more force, scratching and making you hum in contentment. When he speaks again, his voice is laced with something a little more serious, a little more desperate: “How ‘bout you let me turn that brain off for a bit. Let me prove I mean what I’m sayin’.”

It’s hard to stay sad when he’s looking at you like that, brown eyes darkening a shade, sharp teeth nibbling on his lower lip.

“What’d you have in mind?”

Hiragi doesn’t answer, just pulls your face to his for a deep kiss. He licks the salt off your lips while wiping your puffy, tear-stained face with his thumbs then carefully pushes against you so that you lay back on the bed you’ve spent the last hour crying in.

“I love you so much,” you feel more than hear, the shape of the words molding to your mouth, wrapping around your heart and squeezing.

A knee between yours, he lightly presses it to your core, letting out a quiet groan when you grind down on it.

“Just tell me what you want, baby,” he breathes, kisses down your neck, tongue tracing the curve of it before he stops to suck a bruise onto your heated skin. “Your wish is my law.”

“I want…” you pause for a shaky inhale then guide his face back up to yours. “I just want you to love me. Forever. I don’t wanna lose you.”

Hiragi’s face softens. He sighs thoughtfully, blinks at you slowly before lowering himself to kiss you with a tenderness that makes you want to cry all over again.

“I do. And you won’t. There’s not a bone in my body that wants to leave you.”

His last kiss lands on your forehead, and then you’re both gazing at one another in a way that would make your friends dry heave.

“Close your eyes now, princess,” he says, voice low and full of desire, “m’gonna love you to death.”

You don’t fight him, don’t try to argue that you’re the one who should be begging him, serving him. No, you let him descend on you, let him do whatever he pleases because he makes you feel so good.

His tongue spells out sweetly sinful words on your most sensitive flesh, his fingers insistent and appreciative as they curl into spaces you only bear to him. He moves slowly and deeply, pouring himself into you in more ways than one—adoration and fondness and promises spilling inside of you in warm, blissful release.

As promised, Hiragi manages to turn your brain off, that network of unfathomable connections rendered absolutely useless as he destroys every doubt and self-loathing habit by way of mind-numbing, toe curling orgasms. You suppose there’s a reason the French refer to them as little deaths.

“Good enough for you?” he asks teasingly when you’re both breathless and dazed. His lips are pretty and kiss-swollen, a slick mess dripping between the two of you.

“Too good,” you reply, a lopsided smile spreading across your face. “Too good to me.”

Hiragi raises an eyebrow. “But not too good for you, right?”

“Right,” you nod. “Just perfect for me.”

[dreamwritersworld]

On my own…Part 3 (Sully family x reader)

🚨I’m so sorry this took a long time to post and I know it’s short 🥲 I’ve been struggling to find where Y/n’s story will lead so…please! Send in requests for the ending or comment and I’ll just decide from there 😊💓

If you told younger me that older me wouldn’t think highly of my parents…she wouldn’t believe you. Truth was I was holding onto something that was never real.

*8 year old Y/n*

I sat down in the lab room picking at scars and rubbing on my bruises while my siblings played with Spider, which I couldn’t do because I was instructed to stay close by. Norm taught me holidays that were back on earth…they were very beautiful! He gave me pieces of paper to draw what would be done in something called a…classroom? It was for a holiday called father and mother day!

Norm turned to another scientist showing him my work!

“Look at this sweet paper Y/n filled out!

My mom is special because…she’s a loving mom and I love her because she is beautiful!

My dad is the best because….he teaches me how to do things and keeps me good!

My parents are as good as a…flower and heart!”

Both scientist smiled down at the paper before norm moved onto more of Y/n’s work.

“And then she signed it off with her name!…she made these little coupons.

This coupon is good for…time for me and you!”

The other scientist was quick to make a statement about her card.

“Extremely unique for her to come up with that when she doesn’t even know you know the regular statements from back on earth.”

“Definitely! Another one says..

This coupon is good for…I will be good.”

Both of them strangely looked back and forth from the paper and at the sweet girl who minded her business playing with her own bruised skin…how did that end up there?

“She’s always good? I don’t know there’s always something about being good on her work when she comes to visit…like she’s always trying to prove that she’s good?”

The other scientists nodded off to what Norm was saying and decided to calmly approach the young child

“Hello sweetie! How did you get those marks?…were you playing ? Going on an adventure and chasing a wild beast?”

The young girl laughed at the scientists statement before putting her head back down and saying that it was just a fall from playing….it was a bruise Jake had given her when he slightly made her fall to the floor and she hit a rock..*

Oh Eywa…how did I have the strength to love them despite it all. I hope to one day find it in my heart to learn to love again…this isn’t easy anymore. I was so close to death and he sent me away right to it.

When we arrived back home I knew it would be the end of me. I could see it, the shocked look on my parents faces. It was so late my siblings had fallen into slumber, while they had heavy bags on there eyes.

All dad did was shake his head placing his fingers on his temple before telling Neteyam to go back inside..and he did. I had no one to protect me, quite frankly Im beginning to feel like it was all my fault but I had no choice.

“You have been chosen by Eywa my-“

My mother reached for me but I stepped back quickly, still feelings a pinging burning sensation.

“Do not touch me. You-“

I was cut off with a very enraged voice…my fathers.

“Despite what you think you’ve accomplished, you’ve brought shame to this family. Do you have any idea how frustrated and upset everyone is at you?! You are a complete waste Y/n. You seriously believe that THIS will fix you?”

When he reached over to yank me he was instantly burnt…my skin felt so warm. My own body was finally able to protect itself. It didn’t help that his touch also stung me so I hissed at him, stepping back slowly.

Neytiri gasped at Y/n’a hiss and Jake’s burnt hand…she now saw what Jake meant…maybe he really was right. Y/n could hurt the family, regardless of her being their daughter…Neytiri now believes that the daughter that she has was reminiscing and crying for isn’t there anymore. She’s a monster.

“Y/n! You better calm yourself right now. Go inside now.”

I looked at my Father once more, emotionless, frustrated and tired.

“You know what? I will go-“

My own body turned willingly calling for Toruk. They realized what I was doing..

“I meant go inside now. That’s an order Y/n! You’re my daughter and you must listen to me now!”

I could no longer hold in the laughter…how could he keep on pushing it…I mean seriously who’d he think was gonna listen?

“You sent me away to die. Now your ordering me around, going as far to call me daughter? You’re hilarious. How do you believe that you deserve my respect when you’ve done nothing to earn it? If you won’t care neither will I.”

“And what? You think you will earn my respect when all you’ve done was ruin things-“

“What is wrong with you?! I have always tried to live up to your expectations despite it all and you still can’t get out of your own way. They don’t even know what you have done to me all that’s years. What do you think they’ll do when they find out? I’ve kept your bad sides hidden for long enough. You’re pathetic! I feel sorry for you.”

I turn away once again walking towards Toruk…

“Don’t turn your back on me!”

“I should’ve turn my back on you ages ago!”

Toruk throws a flame of fire backing away to not hit anyone or anything, just sending a warning to Jake and Neytiri.

“…you left him as well. Never forget that. You are not loyal and don’t deserve to have as beautiful of a family as you do now. You don’t deserve any of it.”

As Y/n left in the blue night sky, fire erupted from Toruk and you can see the fire along the lines of his wings…he was given her gift instead, he portrayed her emotions perfectly for them.

Anger.

Betrayal.

Sadness.

Y/n knew she’d come back but on her own terms…

!💓!

please send requests for the ending I’m struggling!! 😭

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir @itshype @zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll @tsireyak @neteyamforlife @aimsro @elegantkidfansoul @goodiesinthecloset21 @nikotokitaswife @bucky1235 @detectivesparrow @kikosaurscave @ssc7514 @destinylb @simp-erformarvelwomen @eirianna @ambria @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @lv9su @luciddasher @dakotali @httpjiikook @tainted-artist4161 @fanboyluvr @bat1212 @mxn14 @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @ducks118 @midnightliacr @osakis-gf @onetwo123three @briannalarae @thirsty4nonlivingmen @historygeekqueen @abbersreads @eskamybeloved @hoodiepandaninja16 @valovesyou @silentlyswimming @r3dc4ndy @onlytays

[dxy-drxxm]

SYNOPSIS: "I feel like you wouldn’t be opposed to me kissing you. Am I correct?"

CW/s: Tooth rotting fluff, established relationship, smooth bastard Kaeya, Diluc is so tired y'all, reader becomes a bastard(tm), navina doesnt know how to write kaeya being a flirty mfer, kaeya is touch starved and I'll die on this hill

NOTE: This is a prompt from this list right here, and it's a bit short but I wanted to get to writing Kaeya. This is also the second part of the touch starvation mini series, so I hope I did this man justice lol.

Kaeya Alberich is a simple man.

He may not look like it, but he's quite satisfied with what he has. He had a good job, he lived somewhere where he can express himself without prejudice...

... And he had his lovely partner: you.

Now, he is someone that doesn't show his partner off to the public eye. Contrary to what people believe, Kaeya likes to keep specific parts of his lifestyle to close friends, if that was possible.

However, if the time called for it, he could show his partner off if he felt the need to do so.

Like now.

With a hand wrapped around your waist, the Cavalry Captain leaned over and placed his chin on top of your shoulder. He never opposed to having to hold you like this, even if you two are different in physique. For him, he enjoyed the difference.

It reminded him that he has quite a catch, and no one else could.

"Seize the day, darling," he whispered, his voice ringing in amusement as you placed a kiss on his cheek in return. "Good morning to you too, playboy," he heard you whisper, a teasing smile on your face. "What's got you so touchy?"

"Hm... I don't know. Maybe it's the fact I get to hold you like this."

To prove a point, he squeezed your body a bit tighter, humming when you sighed wearily.

"Kae, you always held me like that. I'm afraid that you've grown too used to it."

"Is it a bad thing for me to get used to it, [name]?"

"Not when we have our duties to take care of."

Ah, right. He forgot that you aren't the type to proceed with his little games. Exasperated, he sighed and pulled away, as he knew well that you weren't wrong.

"Fine, fine," he muttered, pouting. "But I still want to hold you in my arms just a bit more."

You gave him a sigh.

"After, Kae. I need to make us breakfast, and I'd be damned if you stopped me."

He quirked up a grin as you focused on making the food for the day. He hated to admit it, but he sometimes wondered just how he got you.

The nickname you gave him was amusing. Playboy, hm? Is it because of how he acted with women and men?

...

Hm... Then again, you always called me that when we first met, he mused, watching the pan flip up and down as the pancakes were being cooked. Playboy... Someone who's often seen with women, no matter the physique or age...

He couldn't help but chuckle. He's remembered just how it went.

Truthfully, when he met you, he saw you as another person trying to catch his eye. You weren't different like the traveler, but he could tell there was something you held that stood out from the rest.

He remembered oh so clearly with what he told you back then, during your first date with him.

"I feel like you wouldn't be opposed to me kissing you... Am I correct?"

It was one of the rare pick-up lines he had, but he meant it in a joking manner. Your response, however, did not.

With a brave face and in front of Diluc (who brewed you and him drinks, he recalled), you told him—

"—not until you cut that drinking habit, mister playboy."

Was it callous? Maybe. He was certainly caught off-guard by such a blunt statement, and especially when Diluc looked a tad amused at his loss of words.

But he knew that you were, simply put, one he'd love to spend more time with.

Even when Diluc had given him more to pay (it was for making him sit through a bland date, he had reasoned), he never gave up on his pursuit. He still tried to catch your attention, and dear archons, he tried to get your affection.

The playboy that you knew had long since disappeared after your first few dates with him, and with the promise ring he gave you that he asked to make personally, the Kaeya you're with was more than a simple ladies' man.

He was just a private guy who uses physical touch to show his affection far more than words, like now.

Feeling his hand hold your own, you turned off the stove to see that he held it instinctively. With a chuckle, your fingers weaved and moved to intertwine with his, a smile stretching on your face.

He liked that smile, Kaeya notes. You looked beautiful with it.

"Your touch starvation is showing, Kae," you teased, yet you gave his hand a squeeze. "Do you crave my touch that much?"

"Hm... Maybe," he answered, standing up to take the pan and place it on the counter. Closing his eyes, he reached his right hand to hook your chin, pulling you to a tender kiss.

"But it's nothing that you can't satisfy, my beloved."

@.dxy-drxxm | do not republish, repost, or copy my works anywhere | 2023

[typicalopposite]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

So I haven’t done one of these before… and idek what qualifies as a tidbit… maybe this will be more of a tadbit… a tonofabit… but to go hand in hand (oh boy that’s a pun I definitely didn’t intend and is a little painful given the context… you’ll see soon) with the cover art I made for the breakup/accident fic today as well as the snippet I plan to share tomorrow I’m sharing the whole prologue below the cut <3 enjoy(ish) 🙂

Buck looks at his hands.

“Buckley,” Collier calls from the helicopter. “You want a lift back to your vehicle?” A moment passes before he repeats, “Buckley,” a bit louder.

Then there’s a hand on his shoulder, it’s McCarty. “You good? Do you need to be checked out?” He asks. Buck lifts his eyes from his hands to McCarty’s face. He blinks, trying to register what was even just said to him. It clicks, he shakes his head.

“No, I’m fine,” he lies. Or, well… he mostly lies. Physically he is fine. Mentally, though? Emotionally? He’s honestly a wreck. But the pain in his heart—the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts and regrets running wild in his head—is not something anyone is going to be able to look at and fix; it’s not something anyone needs to worry about. He deserves to feel it. He blinks slowly, looking back down to his hands, suddenly hyper aware of how tired he feels from the adrenaline finally plummeting to the ground (as sickly ironic as that metaphor may seem now). “I’m— I’m fine,” he repeats, thinking maybe doubling down on the statement will really sell it.

He turns and walks away before either can respond; off of the hospital’s helipad through the sliding glass doors into the oh-too familiar white walls, and the strong scents of disinfectant, iodine, and saline.

He probably shouldn’t be able to navigate the hospital as well as he has become accustomed to doing. He is a firefighter after all, not a doctor… Yet his eyes remain on his hands, rather than ahead of him, and he still easily manages to reach the elevator—taking it down to the emergency room floor—with no issue.

A part of him desperately grasps for a shred of positivity. Internally he gives himself reminders of all the times he has been here before for some situation that seemed dire and then turned out alright in the end. A much bigger, much more negative, but logical, part of him replays the fall, the flight to the hospital, the hospital staff taking the gurney through the doors out of sight, over and over and over as if to say: How can this turn out alright?!

The answer? It can’t. It won’t. It’s not possible. He fell from too high; he lost too much blood; he sustained severe internal damage.

He continues to look at his hands…

“Buck,” a voice calls just as he steps into the waiting area; it’s Bobby. He looks up shocked to see his team there, unsure how they even knew to come, and wishing he could find some solace in the fact they are here, and he is not alone. He finds none. “What happened?”

“He happened,” another voice says, so angrily it makes Buck flinch. Morris storms across the room towards Buck, face red and pulled down into a deep frown. Buck realizes his team isn’t the only one here… “What the hell are you even doing here, Buckley?” The man snarls, making it into Buck’s space. Bobby reaches out an arm to keep him from getting any closer. Morris scoffs: “You don’t have to protect him, Nash. I’m not stupid, I won’t touch him… Tommy wouldn’t want—” Morris takes a breath and steps back from Buck anyway. “Why don’t you just leave, kid…” he says, voice suddenly drained as if he put all his energy into the sudden burst of anger. “You’re good at that.”

Buck wilts. He tries to not let it be visible; he doesn’t deserve to let it be visible. He doesn’t deserve sympathy (he doesn’t think anyone is really going to sympathize with him anyway… maybe his team will… although they have been pretty upset with him too). “That’s enough,” Bobby says, staring down Morris like he’s daring him to speak again; it manages to make Buck feel better and worse at the same time.

Hen approaches him, with Chimney and Eddie on her heels. “What do we know, Buck?” She asks, voice kept low so that the question stays within their circle. “How bad is it…”

“It’s— He— He’s… in surgery. I was so— so close, Hen—” Bucks shoulders rise up then fall in a helpless shrug. “I tried. I tried to get to him but he fell; I couldn’t— there was nothing I could—”

He looks at his hands, they are trembling.

He wants to cry. He wants to finally let go and break down, and just maybe someone will have pity on him enough to comfort him through it. He takes a breath and once again pushes the emotions away. He doesn’t deserve any kind of release. He doesn’t deserve pity, or comfort. He does deserve the anger… he has half a mind to chase after Morris just to be given another dose of it. He looks at his hands.

“Buck,” Eddie says, squeezing his shoulder. “You can’t— it’s not—” Buck looks up at him, eyes pleading for him to not go there. Don't attempt to take what is rightfully his. Don’t tell him not to blame himself. It is his fault. Even with the pity in Eddie’s eyes, Buck knows he has to know that, too. Just like he’s certain Chimney knows it, and Hen knows it. They think it; they feel it. Hell Ravi is the least close to Tommy and he even became distant—clearly choosing his side—after everything blew up.

No one was on Buck’s side then, when he was so sure he was right. When the idea he could ever matter so much to someone that their life would fall to ruins without him. When he had let his stupid over thinking—his anger and his self deprecation—cause him to ruin the best thing that has ever happened to him… the best thing that will ever happen to him.

They tried to tell him. They tried to warn him. He let his own inner voices be louder than the ones who were pleading with him to look at the damage he was causing. Then when he finally decides to listen… It's too late. Why would they be on his side now?

More of the 217 arrive; more people that look at Buck like the villain he very much feels that he is. This is his fault, after all. He looks at his hands.

There is blood on his hands…

Tommy’s blood is on his hands…

And now for the no pressure tags <3 (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@onthewaytosomewhere @scripted-downfall @do-androids-dream-ao3acc @30somethingautisticteacher @girlwonder-writes @shroomonabroom @bucksxkinard

[jrob64]

Saying Goodbye and Moving On

An OUAT Canon Divergent fix-it fic

Here is my entry for CSSNS 2023, which was written to fix what I thought was a grievous wrong in the show. All of you need to know that I wanted to make @kmomof4 a co-author because she did so much to help me with this story, but she refused. Several tragic things were happening in my life while I was writing this story and she talked me through it - giving me ideas for the plot, encouraging me to keep going, checking it over when it was incredibly full of errors or didn't make sense, and just generally being the best friend and supporter I needed in order to finish it. On top of that, she created the gorgeous pic set you see at the top, with some manip help from @motherkatereloyshipper. Thank you so much, ladies! I love it!

Many thanks to @hookedmom who was my official beta once again.

SUMMARY: Killian has returned to Emma from the Underworld and they are starting to build their future together, when a ghost from his past suddenly appears, giving them the opportunity to right a few wrongs.

CHAPTER 1/1 - 5230 words

RATING: T

ALSO on Ao3 (I'm unable to post to ffn at this time)

*********

Storybrooke was peaceful for perhaps the first time since Emma Swan crashed into the town sign three years ago. The Underworld saga was behind them, Killian had returned in dramatic fashion, and no new villain had shown up in town…yet. Emma knew it was only a matter of time, but she was going to enjoy the calm after the multiple storms for as long as she could.

Gold was the Dark One again after negating Killian’s sacrifice, but he secluded himself in his Pawn Shop. Emma figured he was avoiding everyone in town because they were furious over him not letting go of the dark power. Even though Emma knew the Dark One couldn’t be killed, she wasn’t above putting a bullet in him for something as minor as jaywalking, given the opportunity. She could never forgive him for what he did to the man she loved.

Right now, that man was alive and well beside her, his arm flung over her hip and snoring softly in her ear. It had been nearly two months since he returned and she was still hesitant to let him out of her sight. The first few nights after his return, both of them were desperate to reacquaint themselves with the other’s body. Gradually, as the realization grew that Killian was truly back and nothing was going to threaten their blissful happiness, their lovemaking grew gentler and less frantic, but no less meaningful. Now, after their bodies were sated, they’d lay in each other’s arms talking softly before they drifted off to sleep, content in the fact that nothing would pull them away from one another again.

*********

Killian awoke with a jolt, heart thundering in his chest and breath coming in sharp gasps. Sitting up quickly, he closed his eyes, tilting his head back while he concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths to calm himself, hoping he wouldn’t wake Emma. When his heart rate slowed down a bit, he opened his eyes and the blood in his veins froze.

He rubbed his eyes furiously, then cautiously opened them again. The image hadn’t disappeared. Hovering hazily in front of him was…

“Milah?” he choked out.

The specter’s pale eyes brightened and a slight smile crossed her face. Drifting closer, she opened her mouth to speak…

“Killian?”

Immediately, the ghostly figure disappeared. Killian blinked rapidly as he felt Emma’s hand on his back.

“Are you okay?” she asked, sitting up beside him.

“Oh, uh…aye,” he managed to say, still trying to get over the shock of seeing what was obviously the ghost of his former lover.

“Are you sure? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

His head jerked around, searching her eyes to determine if she realized the accuracy of her statement. All he could see was concern in the green depths. “Aye, Love, I just…I’m having some trouble sleeping and I don’t…I don’t want to keep you awake, so…uh…I think I’ll spend the rest of the night on the Jolly, if you don’t mind,” he stammered.

A wounded look crossed her face so quickly, he wasn’t even sure he saw it. She schooled her features carefully before replying, “If you’re having nightmares, I can help you through them. You don’t have to handle them yourself, you know.”

He wiped a hand down his face. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt this woman who sacrificed so much to bring him home. He loved her more than he could express and owed her his very life. But after seeing the vision of Milah, he knew he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep that night and he didn’t know how to explain what had happened.

“I know, Love. I just…I think I need some fresh air.” Enfolding her in his arms, he rubbed her back soothingly. “I’m not pulling away from you, I promise. I’ll meet you at Granny’s tomorrow for breakfast, aye?”

“Yeah, okay,” she mumbled into his chest. “Call me when you get to the Jolly?”

“Of course.” He got out of bed and began putting on his clothes, feeling her eyes on him the entire time. When he finished, he turned back to see her still sitting up, the sheet wrapped around her. Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, he reached over to brush some wispy strands of hair away from her face. “Get some sleep, Darling. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She leaned in to kiss him, pressing her forehead to his for a brief moment afterwards. “Be careful on your way to the docks.”

“I will. Goodnight, Love.” After brushing her lips with his once more, he stood and began walking toward the doorway.

“Killian?” she called softly.

He turned. “Aye?”

“I love you.”

He couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face. “I love you, too, Swan.”

*********

On his way to his ship, Killian searched the skies for any sign of Milah’s apparition. He was torn about whether he wanted to see her ghostly image again. On the one hand, he was curious why she was here and wanted to talk with her to get some answers. Conversely, he was ready to move on with his life and his True Love.

He made it to the Jolly without any sign of the specter, but upon entering his quarters, he was met with the sight of her hovering over his bunk, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.

“Milah!” he gasped. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Her eyes widened in horror as she continued to try, with no success.

“You can’t talk?” he questioned. She shook her head sadly, and seemed to shrink in on herself, floating toward the ceiling. “No! Don’t go!” he cried. “Please…stay.” He held out his hand in invitation, knowing she wouldn’t be able to physically take it.

Her eyes softened, her distress easing as she settled back down to eye level with him.

“But you can hear me, can’t you?” he asked, needing to clarify their connection.

She nodded and made a hand gesture urging him to continue speaking.

He sat in his desk chair and swiveled it to fully face her. “I don’t know how you’re here, but…I’m glad you are.” His comment made her smile. “Emma, she…she told me the two of you met in the Underworld, and that you helped her get to me when Hades had me chained up over the River of Lost Souls.”

Milah nodded again, giving him a small, tight smile.

“I’m truly sorry Hades threw you into that river before I had a chance to say goodbye.”

Anger flashed across Milah’s face and she shook her head vehemently.

“What is it, Milah?” He watched her making motions with her hands, pantomiming pulling her heart out of her chest. “Hades tore your heart out? No, that wouldn’t make sense because you were already…” He stopped short, unable to bring himself to say the last word.

Milah continued to make gestures showing her heart being crushed, then pointed to Killian’s hook.

Suddenly, understanding dawned on him. “The crocodile?” he asked incredulously. She nodded vigorously and he could feel the rage rising in him. “Was he the one who pushed you into the River of Lost Souls?” At Milah’s emphatic nod, he angrily jumped to his feet. “Not only did he take you from me the first time, he also doomed you to eternal torment and deprived me of a chance to give you a proper farewell! And now he’s the bloody Dark One again! Bloody fucking hell!” He spun in a circle, wanting to throw or hit something.

The specter of his first love drifted closer and reached out to stroke her palm over his cheek. He felt a cool sensation where her ghostly hand brushed past him, calming him instantly. He sat down on his bunk and she moved over to him, sadness mixed with compassion coloring her translucent features. “I’m so sorry, Love. I should have killed him long ago to avenge your…death. I never figured out a way to do it since the Dark One is immortal, and then I met Emma and I…I chose her over my quest for vengeance. I failed you, Milah…”

She brought her finger to her lip and shook her head to silence him. Then she placed her hand over her heart, before moving it to cover his heart. He understood her meaning and his shoulders sagged in relief. “Thank you, Love. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m very happy to have it.” He smiled gently at her for a moment before a startling realization came to him. “Milah,” he said, confusion infusing his words. “How… how are you here?” He stood quickly, not knowing what to think. Could he still be dreaming? Milah shouldn’t be here. She couldn’t be here. This had to be a trick of some kind. Was Gold behind it? Had Hades found some way to return?

Alarmed recognition crossed her face and she reached for him. He stumbled back away from her and she made no further move toward him. In an effort to help him understand, she placed both hands on either side of her head, fingers pointed straight up. She moved them up and down in short, sharp movements that reminded Killian of Hades when his hair erupted into blue flames.

“Hades?” he asked tentatively.

She nodded furiously, her face lighting up with his understanding of her motions. She drew a single finger across her neck in a motion he had no trouble interpreting.

“He’s gone forever, right?” Killian asked. When she continued nodding, Killian felt excitement and hope rise within him. “When he was vanquished, was your soul released from the river?” It was more than he could possibly hope for, but her joyous visage and nod confirmed his speculation. Relief completely enveloped him and he moved closer to her, holding his hand out again. This time, she reached out for him as well. He felt a chill that somehow felt warm at the same time as her hand passed through his. “Oh, Milah,” he breathed. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”

Milah smiled gently at him then floated over to his bed and patted the space beside her. He sat down and saw her gesture for him to talk. Taking a deep breath, he launched into the tale of his life after losing her.

*********

Emma was unable to go back to sleep after Killian left. He’d had plenty of time to make it to his ship, yet he hadn’t called her as promised. She was well aware he would have a lot to work through after everything he’d experienced. Becoming the Dark One, dying and going to the Underworld, being tortured by Hades, reuniting with his brother Liam, only to have to say goodbye to him again, not to mention being separated from his True Love, before being sent back to the land of the living by Zeus.

She was willing to give him all the time he needed, but tonight, something was amiss. She could sense there was more to his abrupt departure than simply a desire to get some fresh air. His eyes were…haunted, fearful. She couldn’t help but wonder what he wasn’t telling her.

Sighing heavily, she shoved back the covers and got out of bed. Something was troubling the man she loved and she was determined to help him through it.

*********

Emma drove slowly through the streets of Storybrooke, scanning every street and alley, but didn’t catch sight of Killian. Parking at the docks, she was relieved to see his ship was still in the usual berth. She hadn’t thought he would take the Jolly Roger out to sea this late at night, but she knew how sailing calmed him, so she wouldn’t have been surprised to find the space empty.

Killian wasn’t on the deck, gazing at the stars - another activity that always brought him peace. Emma quickly crossed the polished surface, descended the steps taking her below deck, and walked down the narrow hallway, stopping outside the captain’s quarters. As she reached for the door handle, she heard Killian’s voice and paused. It sounded like he was carrying on a conversation with someone. She didn’t want to invade his privacy, but curiosity won out and, in spite of herself, she listened.

“...that’s when I found out Bae had a child with Emma - a boy named Henry. Yes, I know. It came as quite a shock to me, as well. By that time, I was already intrigued by Emma, and also very attracted to her. I hope you don’t mind me talking about her. She’s my True Love and I owe her so much. She’s the one who made me want to give up my fruitless quest for revenge in order to be someone worthy of her love.”

Emma took a step closer to the door, hoping to hear the other person to identify him…or her. Her mind raced as she waited. Nearly everyone in town knew that Henry was Neal’s son, so who could it be?

“I wish you could meet Henry. He’s a wonderful lad - intelligent, kind and brave. Bae would be so proud of him.” There was a long pause before Killian resumed. “He, uh, he died trying to warn the town about a villain. He visited Emma before she went to the Underworld and told her he was in a place where he was happy. Perhaps you’ll be able to take care of your unfinished business and join him there.”

Emma’s brows furrowed. He was talking to someone with unfinished business? Someone who might be able to join Neal, which would mean they were dead…

Suddenly, it dawned on her who it had to be, but how was it possible? Milah had been thrown into the River of Lost Souls. There was no way she could be here talking to Killian. Emma’s mind swirled with doubts. Maybe he needed someone to talk to and couldn’t trust her, so he was talking to the memory of Milah instead.

  Unable to quiet the negative voices in her head, Emma grasped the door handle, and after a brief moment of hesitation, pushed inside the cabin.

Killian looked up when he heard her enter, his startled look turning to one of chagrin. “Swan? What are you doing here?”

“I…I was worried when you didn’t call,” she said, looking around the room and seeing no one. “Killian, who were you talking to?”

Killian glanced beside him, where Milah still hovered. “I was…” Turning his eyes back to Emma, he asked, “Can’t you see her, Emma?”

Emma’s brows furrowed. “The only person I see here is you. Were you…it sounded like you were talking to…to Milah.”

He stood, casting a quick look at his first love, then moving to stand in front of his True Love. “Aye, Love. Milah is here, in this room. Her spirit is, at least. She appeared to me in your bedroom and that’s why I left so abruptly. When I reached the Jolly, I found her here, too. I don’t understand why I can see her and you can’t.”

Emma closed her eyes, her heart pounding. If he was telling her the truth - and her lie detector was silent, confirming his words - then Milah was haunting him, no matter where he went. How was she supposed to deal with that?

Tilting her head, she sensed something different about the atmosphere in the room. Breathing in deeply, she caught a whiff of…

“Killian, did Milah smell of lilacs?” she asked, her eyes opening to focus on him. A shocked expression crossed his face.

“Aye, Love. She…she always wore lilac water. I purchased it for her every chance I got. How did you know that?”

“I can smell it, and I feel a…a presence. Can she talk?”

Sadness filled his eyes. “No, she can hear me, but she can’t speak. She has been able to communicate, though. She…she told me it was Gold who threw her into the River of Lost Souls and that she was released when Hades was defeated.”

“Gold did that to her?” Emma spat. “That bastard! I’m already furious over what he did to you and this just adds fuel to the fire! Dark One or not, someday he’s going to pay for all the evil things he’s done, and I, for one, am not going to be sorry about it!”

Killian stepped forward to squeeze her hand, his eyes flicking up behind her. “I think Milah likes you, Love,” he grinned.

“Why do you say that?”

“She’s right behind you, smiling and clapping her hands.”

Emma’s cheeks reddened. “We got to know each other a bit in the Underworld. I liked her, too.” She looked thoughtful. “There has to be some way to allow her to talk to us. Remember when we used that double-ended candle to try to talk to Cora?”

“Aye, but the candle had to be lit over a person’s heart before they were killed in order to use it to communicate with that person’s spirit,” Killian reminded her.

Emma sighed. “That’s right, I’d forgotten that detail.” She chewed on her lip in thought, before speaking again. “I’ll go talk to Regina. There has to be a way.” She pulled her hand out of his and turned toward the door.

He caught her arm with his hook. “Perhaps you should wait until morning, Darling. I doubt the queen will be very amenable to helping us if you wake her in the middle of the night.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot what time it is,” she admitted. “I, um, I guess I’ll just go home for a few hours, then. Are you…will you stay here?”

Killian glanced to his right before answering. “I still have a lot I want to share with Milah and I don’t know how long she’ll be able to stay here. I hope you don’t mind.”

Emma gave him a weak smile. “No, I understand. Do you want to come with me to talk to Regina in the morning?”

“Aye, Love.” He pulled her into his embrace. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Okay, I’ll come by and pick you up around seven,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

He put enough distance between them to be able to cup her chin in his hand. “Be careful going home, my love.”

“I will.” Leaning up to whisper in his ear, she asked, “Do you think she would mind if I kissed you?”

He gave a low chuckle. “I’m sure she won’t. She knows we’re True Love.”

She combed her fingers through the hair above his ear. “This is a weird situation, you know that, right?”

He nodded with a lopsided grin and leaned in to share a lingering kiss with her.

“See you in the morning,” she said when it ended, then added, a bit louder, “Goodbye, Milah.” After brushing his cheek with her lips one more time, she turned and left the cabin.

*********

Once Regina heard Emma and Killian relate the events from overnight, she sat behind her desk in the mayor’s office pursing her lips in thought.

“Can you explain why Killian is able to see her, but I can’t?” Emma asked.

“I’m not sure, but my guess would be it’s because Killian is Milah’s unfinished business,” Regina stated.

“That makes sense,” Emma agreed. “I can feel her presence, though.”

“Have you any ideas for how to talk to her?” Killian inquired.

Regina considered for a moment. “Using the enchanted candle to talk to her definitely isn’t an option. The phone booth in the Underworld was a way for the dead to communicate with the living, but we don’t have anything like that here. You obviously don’t want me to ask Gold for help, or Belle for that matter.”

“Absolutely not,” Emma said emphatically.

“We don’t want the crocodile to know that Milah has made an appearance,” Killian added angrily. “If I had my way, I’d send the bloody bastard back to the Underworld, never to return. Hades wasn’t the one who threw Milah into the River of Lost Souls. It was Gold. He needs to pay for what he did. It wasn’t enough for him to kill her in front of me in the first place, but he had to sentence her to eternal torment, as well.”

Regina’s eyes widened in surprise. She didn’t know all the details of what happened between Rumplestiltskin and Killian Jones, but she could certainly understand Killian’s anger and wanting to make sure ‘the crocodile’ paid for what he’d done. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about Gold. If you recall, he’s the Dark One and can’t be killed, no matter how much all of us would like to see it happen. Now, let’s focus on the problem of how to communicate with Milah. Do you have any idea how long she will be haunting you, Hook?”

Killian shook his head sadly. “No, but I have a feeling it won’t be very long. From the first time I saw her until she left this morning, her form had already faded substantially.”

“Hmm, I wonder,” Regina said, walking around the front of her desk and crossing her arms. “I know she probably didn’t come through a portal from the Underworld to get here, but I wonder if being close to one will give her more strength and help her be able to speak.”

“You mean the one in the duck pond?” Emma asked.

“Do you know of any other?” Regina snapped, her sarcasm in full force.

Emma chose to ignore her snark. “I think it would be worth a try to see if she’ll join you there, wouldn’t it, Killian?” At his nod of affirmation, she added. “How would you feel about Henry being there? If Milah is able to speak, he would get to talk to his grandmother.”

“I think that’s a grand idea, Love. I told her about him and what an exceptional lad he is, and I’m sure she would appreciate the chance to see for herself.”

“Is that alright, Regina?” Emma asked.

“Of course. I don’t think he would find meeting the spirit of his grandmother any more disconcerting than any other adventure he’s experienced since he brought you to town. He planned to spend the day at my house playing video games. I’ll pick him up and meet the two of you at the pond.”

“Do you think Milah will find you there, Killian?”

“She found me at your house and on my ship, Love.”

“Good point. Well, let’s see if this works,” Emma said, taking his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze before they headed out the door.

*********

Returning to the place where Emma was forced to run Excalibur through Killian was difficult for the couple. As they drew near the exact spot where it happened, Killian heard her breath hitch and he tightened his grip on her hand.

Regina and Henry arrived a few minutes later and joined them at the edge of the duck pond.

“Mom says Grandma Milah appeared to you, Killian,” Henry said excitedly. “Is she here now?”

“Not yet, lad,” Killian said.

“We’re not sure she will be, Henry,” Emma said.

“Yeah, Mom explained that to me. She also said Grandma can’t speak, but I’m still glad you wanted me to be here.”

They waited for several minutes, as Killian scanned the skies for any sign of Milah’s ghost. The only sounds heard were the birds in the trees and the occasional quack of a duck swimming past, until Killian declared softly, “She’s here, right over the center of the pond.”

“I was going to ask if she was,” Emma said. “I thought I felt her presence.”

“There is definitely a stirring in the atmosphere,” Regina remarked.

“Is she trying to say anything?” Henry asked.

“No,” Killian answered, “she’s just watching us.” Suddenly, the water in the pond began rippling as a breeze blew across it. “Hello again, Milah. Someone is here to meet you.” He stepped over behind Henry, putting his hand and hook on the boy’s shoulders. “This is Henry, Baelfire’s son.”

“Hi, Grandma,” Henry said, his eyes darting back and forth across the sky. “It’s nice to…kind of…meet you.”

“She’s smiling at you, lad,” Killian assured him.

“I wish I could see you. Were you the one who churned up the water?” Henry asked. In response, a stronger breeze blew, causing small waves to form in the duck pond. “That’s a cool trick, Grandma!” he laughed.

A chilly wind swept past the group, rustling the leaves on the trees. “Is Milah doing that, too?” Emma whispered.

“Aye,” Killian answered, his eyes following the movement of the specter only he could see. “Something seems to be distressing her.”

“I think I see the source of her agitation,” Regina remarked, her brow furrowing in concern. “Here comes Gold. He must have sensed a supernatural disturbance, too.”

The man came stumping up the path, slowing as he took in the scene before him. Seeing the group assembled by the pond, he asked, “What are you all doing here? Are you trying to cast some sort of…” His words came to a stop as his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in surprise. “M-Milah?”

Another rush of cold air swept past them, strong enough this time to shake the tree branches and increase the turbulence of the water. “Seeing him has made her extremely angry,” Killian explained.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Regina remarked.

The wind kicked up even more, causing dust and debris to swirl around them. It seemed to center on Gold, making him duck down and cover his head. “Get away from me, you vile woman!” he screamed. “You’re supposed to be in the River of Lost Souls!” At his confession, the wind picked him up bodily and slammed him to the ground, stunning him as he hit his head on a rock.

“And YOU’RE the one who threw her into it!” Killian shouted.

Gold raised his hand to his head, wiping at the blood over his brow. Suddenly, it was if something grabbed him by the ankles and began dragging him toward the pond. “NO! NO!” he screeched, attempting to crawl back up the path.

“Grandpa!” Henry yelled.

There was a loud whooshing sound and they turned to see a vortex rising up out of the water, the force of it beginning to pull Gold toward it. He continued to scream his protests, his fingers scrabbling in the dirt as he was dragged backwards. They watched incredulously as he flew past them, too quickly to even attempt to grab him.

He was caught up in the vortex, which spun across the surface of the pond. Emma gasped as she spotted something moving behind the trees. “It’s Charon’s boat! Why is it here?”

“Gold is tethered to the Underworld through his blood,” Regina explained, shouting to be heard over the tumult. “The blood from the gash on his head must have gotten into the water and summoned Charon.”

The four people on shore watched the furiously swirling waterspout until it reached the boat, where it suddenly disappeared, depositing the helpless Dark One in a heap in the middle of the vessel.

Gold’s blood curdling screams echoed through the air as Charon guided the boat toward the portal to the Underworld. The moment it passed from view, his cries were silenced and they knew he was gone.

“Look!” Henry cried, pointing at the sky.

Emma, Killian and Regina turned to see a black vapor in the shape of the Dark One’s dagger hanging over the pond. As they watched, it dissipated, completely disappearing within seconds. “Does that mean what I think it means? What I hope it means?” Emma asked.

“No more Dark One? The Darkness is gone forever?” Regina questioned, turning back towards the others.

“Yes, that’s exactly what it means and now I can finally be free,” a serene voice said from behind them.

“Milah!” Killian gasped. “You can speak!”

“Rumple silenced me when he threw me into the river,” she explained. “Now that he’s gone, he has no power over me, or anyone else, for that matter.”

“I’m sorry you lost your grandfather like that, kid,” Emma said, putting her arm around Henry’s shoulders to comfort him.

“Yeah, me too, but he had a lot of chances to give up the power of being the Dark One and he never did. He loved power more than he loved me, Belle, and even my dad, so I guess he deserved what he got.”

Killian patted him on the back, then looked at the specter hovering in front of them. “You did it, Milah. Everything he ever did to us has now been avenged,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“Yes, it has,” Milah said, her voice sounding much thinner. “My time here is drawing to a close, so I have to say my goodbyes.” Killian watched as a wide smile spread on her lips. “I can see Killian was right when he told me how special you are, Henry. I just wish I had more time with you. When I move on, I will tell your father what a fine young man you became.”

“Tell him…tell him I miss him,” Henry said.

“I will,” she promised.

Emma stepped up beside Killian and stretched up to kiss his cheek.“We’ll give you a chance to say goodbye,” she whispered. “I’ll be home if you want to come by afterwards.”

He nodded and watched her walk away with Henry and Regina. Turning back to Milah, he saw her translucent form was fading quickly. “I’m very happy I got the opportunity to bid you a proper goodbye, Love.”

“So am I. Oh, my love, I’m glad we were able to have so many wonderful adventures together.” Her voice grew so faint, he had to listen intently to hear her. “ Emma is good for you, Killian. It’s wonderful that you’ve found love again and you’re finally moving on. I can see that you’re really happy.” She paused for a moment, then- if it was possible for a ghost- she sighed. “I’m your past and she’s your future.”

“You’ll always have a place in my heart, Milah. You were my first love.”

“Yes, and I will always love you, but Emma is your True Love. You deserve happiness with her.”

“And you deserve peace. I hope you find it.”

“Now that all of my unfinished business has been taken care of, I’m sure I will.” Swooping down, she brushed her nearly invisible fingers across his cheek. “I must go now. Goodbye, my love.”

“Goodbye, Milah.”

He stood transfixed, staring at the sky for several minutes after her form disappeared. The sadness he had carried in his heart for so long over the loss of Milah, was replaced with relief and joy.

Finally, he turned and began walking back to town, where he knew he would find Emma waiting.

He saw her sitting on the steps of her house when he stopped in front of the gate. Looking up at him, a warm smile crossed her face, and he returned it with one of his own. Stepping through the opening, he moved toward his future.

*********

Was I the only one who thought Gold should have been held accountable for what he did to Milah? Or that Killian should have had the chance to say goodbye to his first love? Please let me know how you felt about it.

Special thanks to the people who have held the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer event for many years now. It's always a lot of fun!

And thanks to all of you for reading, commenting and reblogging!

Tagging: @hookedmom @kmomof4​ @cs-rylie @qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan​ @wyntereyez​ @the-darkdragonfly​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @paradiselady19​ @xarandomdreamx​ @motherkatereloyshipper @julesep3026 @courtorderedcake​ @lfh1226-linda​ @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23​ @tiganasummertree​ @captainswan4life85​ @bluewildcatfanatic​ @eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426​ @julieenchanted-swans​ @gingerchangeling @andiirivera​ @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic​ @snowbellewells​ @huntressandlioness1 @anmylica​ @booksteaandtoomuchtv @pirateherokillian​ @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @laschatzi @zaharadessert​ @jennjenn615 @yasbio2015​ @lyssapup27​ @nachocheese-itsmycheese​ @singersdd​ @mie779​ @undercaffinatednightmare​ @winterbaby89 @xsajx @jackieorioncat @teamhook​ @bdevereaux-blanche​ @soniccat​ @searchingwardrobes​ @jarienn972​ @apiratewhopines​ @softkilly​ @goforlaunchcee​ @kymbersmith-90​ @captainswan21

[wooahaes]

beyond the veil

pairing: non-idol!ghost!jun x gn!reader

genre: horror, but light horror

word count: 0.8k~

warnings: mentions of a murder that went unsolved. reader falls through rotten floorboards, but they're fine. very minor injury depictions.

daisy's notes: ... google how do i kiss a ghost (again)

No matter how much you had begged your friends to let you out of the deal, they wouldn’t budge. This was why you ended up in that house that day with everything you probably needed to survive the night. Or… Well, four hours: your friends had given you that. Four hours alone in the house at the end of the street that was said to be haunted by everyone who had ever tried to live in it. Eventually, the people selling it gave up. If they knocked it down, it might anger whatever spirits were inside of it. There was a reason the equipment continued to malfunction whenever they got too close.

Of course, this meant you would… probably be fine. The house seemed structurally sound enough, and all you needed to do was last from ten at night to two in the morning. Four hours in total, and your friends would be right up the road, waiting for you (Seungcheol refused to just leave you there, even though Mingyu refused to come and it was just Wonwoo and Vernon in the car to keep him company). The first two hours passed by without much happening aside from the occasional creak of a floorboard that you contributed to the house settling. You’d bundled up enough to keep warm, and kept yourself moving in the meantime. You had alarms set for every hour and tried not to touch your phone any more than you needed to. If something happened, you would call Seungcheol, and he would come in to get you. That was the other part of why he was outside.

You’d walked through maybe every room by this point. The kitchen was bare, all equipment taken from it and likely trashed or resold if it was of any use. The pantry only had canned goods left inside of it that expired years ago. The living room was mostly untouched except by dust and what you assumed had to be mold in some corners (nothing dangerous: a quick Google search proved that for you and set those thoughts at ease). The basement was mostly empty, as were the higher floors of the house except for a few bed frames and whatnot. The bare bones of a house that was once lived in.

It was after another sweep of the house that you heard a cat meowing. That was weird: you hadn’t seen a cat so far, but that didn’t mean anything. Some cats were very good at hiding, and it could have just been avoiding you the entire time—or maybe it climbed in through a hole somewhere. Most of the windows had been broken over the years. Your phone buzzed with another alarm, signaling to you that it was the halfway mark of this endeavor. Tugging your jacket closer to yourself, you made your way to the back half of the house, following the meows. You pushed the door open, looking around.

“Kitty?” You called out, clicking your tongue to try and get it to come out. “It’s okay… I’m not gonna hurt you.”

In the furthest corner of the room, you saw a little white cat curled up. It lifted its head, turning to you and meowing one more time, but didn’t move. Maybe it was hurt? You took a step forward, moving slowly as you clutched the flashlight that Seungcheol had given you.

You took a few more slow, steady steps, and the floorboards groaned underneath each one. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna—”

All at once, the floorboards gave away underneath you, the rest of your statement lost as you let out a scream. Everything went black, just for what felt like a few seconds. But you roused easily enough, watching the way the dust in the air puffed up and dissipated. Your body ached, but maybe the thick layers you wore helped cushion your fall. Then again, maybe it was all luck: a fall like that could have killed you. The pain in your body was proof enough that it didn’t. 

You shut your eyes, taking a deep breath. Fuck, that shit hurt. Yet when you opened your eyes, you had peered into the curious one of a man who had suddenly stood over you.

With another yelp, you scrambled away, groping the floor to find your fallen flashlight as you began to apologize for trespassing. “I didn’t know anyone lived here—Everyone said it’s haunted, and my friends made this stupid bet, and I lost, and—”

When you looked at him again,  you realized something. This man wasn’t… there. You could see him, sure, but the rays of moonlight that stretched down seemed to filter through him. 

His eyes widened after a moment. “You… You can see me?”

Then you realized something. You knew this man. You’d seen his face in the papers a few years ago, back when the police were investigating this place. Wen Junhui. Twenty-something. Found murdered in the basement. Killer never found.

Oh fuck. You were seeing a ghost.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @staranghae @synthetickitsune @weird-bookworm

[shade-pup-cub]

Febuwhump 2024, Day 20: Wars & Legend (Time, Sky, Hyrule &Malon) - Truth Serum

Fandom: LOZ/Linked Universe

Summary: "What you don't know won't kill you" and "The truth will set you free" were now phrases Warriors wanted to never hear again, since what he didn't know was the reason for Legend dying and the truth was only the truth that he knew.

CW: Blood, injury, fist fight, Major Language warning, talk of death

Notes: I have a whole HC for Legend's era when it comes to a prince being born. It is described in "A Deity's Son" Chapter 10 (or you can ask here if you want)

“What crawled up your ass causing you to hate royalty?” Warriors had never gotten the chance to actually get to know the Vet one on one and now it was forced since they had been separated through a portal leading into Legend’s era.

Legend didn’t miss a beat as they walked. “We have been silently walking since we walked out of the portal thirty minutes ago and this is how you start a conversation with me?”

“Figured since there isn’t anyone else here to holler ‘language’, why not talk bluntly and in a way that gets across to you better?”

“Flattered…” Legend kicked a stone as he looked up to the afternoon sun. “I don’t hate all royalty. Zelda is the one exception.”

Warriors took note of the distance placed between himself and his companion. “And the

knights?” That made Legend stop walking. Warriors stopped just ahead of him, turning back around. The glare that met him was a masked one.

“Why do you ask that?” There was a shake in his voice.

“It isn’t that hard to figure out. You keep the most distance from me, then Sky, Wild and Time. All of us have some kind of ranking.”

“Time is for a reason not related.” Giving Legend a look to continue, he did. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“What kind of bullshit is that?” Wars chuckled in equal parts amusement and annoyance, catching back up with the younger. “Can you at least try to explain so I can understand and attempt to be less of a threat to you mentally?”

When not given a response, Warriors lightly grabbed Legend’s shoulder. He wasn’t expecting the angry fear or for him to flinch away. “Don’t. Touch. Me.” he snapped through his clenched teeth.

Taken back, Warriors now saw all the trauma signs. “Legend, what did they do to you?”

“Oh don’t act like you care when we both know knights don’t. They care about the glory that comes with victory and the power that comes with being ranked above the commoners.” His eyes searched him, subtly looking past him. “Now there’s Captains with the title ‘Hero’.”

“What about us?” Warriors knew the comment was more towards himself, than Wild, but that didn’t change how this conversation's tone had changed.

Legend scoffed, “Queen’s pets, always following orders. I bet you wouldn’t hesitate to lock up a child and beat them if she told you to or kill a baby, all because it was a prince and not a princess.”

“What are you talking about?” Warriors was confused by the words coming from the hero in front of him. What had he seen or been though? What was this place that they had just walked into?

Legend continued on, not a care for how he spoke or about who. Though he had no filter, what he said was uncharacteristic for him and he himself wouldn’t tolerate it if it was said about Fable. “What is your reward, Cap? Is it the ladies? Oh wait, no, it is a specific lady. You bang your Zelda, don’t you?” There was a laugh, but nothing was funny.

“What did you just say?” Warriors took several steps forward, closing some of the gap between them. There was no way he heard him right.

“You denying that after a hard battle, your warrior Queen does take you back to her tent and allow you to hike up her dress and p-”

Warriors didn’t let him finish that horrific statement. He decked him square in the jaw, making him lose balance a bit while holding his face. “You watch your mouth!”

“Oh come now Cap, you wouldn’t be the only one of us doing so. After all, Wild did get the exciting news from Flora.”

Wars got in another swing to the face before tackling Legend, landing on top of him. “How dare you speak so vilely towards any of them!”

“We are just pawns in their game anyway! We are used and abused for their gain, why not get a proper thank you?!” He grabbed the golden locks that were Warriors and pulled him off, giving him several hits to the arms that were covering the war captain’s face.

Being the stronger of the two Warriors had no issue fighting off Legend, making it back to his feet. When he looked into the violet eyes, he saw rage and how this was all an act and he fell for it.

“You piece of shit.” The rage turned to fear, but Legend wasn’t looking at the Captain. Seeing his eyes flick to the side, Warriors turned around and was met with the hilt of a sword. Last thing he heard was Legend hollering for him to get up as a boot stomped his face.

There was a not so dull pain taking over Warriors head as he came to. He tried opening his eyes only to shut them once more due to the bright light coming from the hole in the roof. Moving his hands to touch his right cheek and temple was a task and one that he couldn’t manage and not only because of how much pain he was in, but due to the iron chains around his wrist.

“Wars? Can you hear me?”

Mouth feeling dry as if stuffed with cotton, Warriors swallowed thickly with the taste of blood. “Leg?” His voice was hoarse and straining. “W-what-”

“We got taken, but try to rest. You took a few good hits back there.” The usual snark wasn’t there.

Not listening to the advice, Warriors gave it hell to sit up, grunting and groaning the whole way up until he was sitting with his back to the wall. The memories of what had happened filtered in, making him look at his fellow hero. Legend was picking at the threads of his tunic. “Legend?”

“Hm?”

“Are we- gods that hurt- are we going to talk about what happened or more so what was said?” He felt around his nearly swollen shut eye.

Legend pulled his knees towards himself. “I would rather not.” There was the reluctant vulnerability again showing through as he tried to protect himself in some kind of way.

“You didn't mean it, did you?”

“No. I saw the knights coming after we started walking and knew that it would be better off for you if we were fighting. They would side with you rather than me, but if we were just allies, they would make it worse for you. Apparently it didn’t work out how I wanted it to.”

He hadn’t come up with that on the fly and Wars wanted to know the truth. “There was honesty to the first part, wasn't there, about the knights?”

Legend curled up on himself more, head tucking to the side so he couldn’t make eye contact.

“Vet, I need to know what we are up against with these men. Please, tell me what is really going on here.”

Legend began to open his mouth when the door swung open, denting the wall as it smacked it. A taller- and not so knightly looking- man walked into the room with three others. “Look who it is boys! Good ole traitor Link. The one who kidnapped the princess.”

Legend was visibly trying to seem unfazed by the few entering the room. The failure to hide the slightest tremble told Warriors that Legend had dealt with these men before. “Still going with that lie are we? The princess has already told everyone what happened and you can’t get it through your thick ass, dumb skull.”

“Did you just call me stupid, boy?” The lead man squatted down, grabbing Legend by the front of his tunic and pulled him closer. “Did you forget what I said I was gonna do to ya if I caught you?”

Legend coughed dramatically. “Suffocate me with your horrible breath that smells of rotten teeth?”

Warriors let out a small snort, clearing his throat when eyes landed on him.

“You think you are so funny, don’t ya? You think this is a game?” A blade was presented and pressed to Legend’s face. “I told you I would carve you up and deliver you to your sister, unrecognizable.”

Sister?

“Or better yet, I’ll just deliver your head to your poor old granny.”

“Don’t you fucking dare go near her!” Legend’s outburst only got him a laugh and the blade breaking skin.

The man took Legend by the chin. A new emotion swept over the Vet after the next words left the foul mouth of their captor. “Who says we haven’t paid her a visit yet?” Regret.

“You like games, Link, let’s play one. If you win, I’ll let you and your friend go so you can check up on her. If you lose, you die right here. Whatcha say?”

“What happens to him if I lose?” Legend was looking right at Warriors.

“He can watch your body decompose until he dies from starvation.”

When Legend sighed, eyes closing in defeat, Wars was in disbelief. “Don’t you even think about agreeing to this!”

The man stood with another gleeful laugh. “How naive of you to think that he has a choice, but don’t you worry. You are the main player in this wonderful game. See, we found this new potion and it has worked wonders.” He pulled a small vial with a clear liquid inside of it from his pouch. “It is called a Truth Serum and it does exactly what you think. No matter what I ask, you won’t be able to tell me anything, but the truth.”

Ordering the three knights to keep post outside, the larger man rounded back on Warriors. “I think you will be the one to drink it.”

“Like hell I will be.” Warriors desperately tried to move away, but he was already against the way and he was still exhausted and hurting.

In a grip that was unnaturally strong, Warriors jaw was squeezed at its hinge. The chain from his wrist to the floor was stepped on to keep his hands down from reaching up and causing issues. Warriors didn’t relent, only tightened his jaw muscles to keep his mouth closed. Knuckles collided with his cheek, throwing him off balance. He was hauled back up by his hair, jaw nearly dislocated as it was grabbed again. Warriors still stayed strong.

“Tough guy, huh? Let’s see how tough you really are.”

Slow steps were made back towards Legend who was now trying to scurry away. The knife from moments ago was back out, but Warriors couldn’t see what was going on since the man was large enough to block Legend from view completely.

“Hold still or you’ll be losing an eye.”

Legend’s legs squirmed at first, but he began to kick around as he let out a scream. Warriors got up to his knees, pain radiating through his skull. He pulled on his chains as hard as he could as Legend continued to scream. “Leave him alone!! I’ll drink it, just leave him be!!”

The man stood with the knife in his hand, bloodied. “You had your chance, this is the price.” Stepping away, he showed how his work. A rather large gash starting from the left side of Legend’s forehead crossed down over his left eye, the bridge of his nose, curved above then over his cheekbone, finishing up at his jawline.

Warriors yanked at his chains again, trying to break free. “You bastard! You fucking bastard!!”

“Me? You could have complied, then his face wouldn’t look like that.” The man pointed his knife back at Legend who looked like he could pass out at any minute. “Wanna try again?”

Even with Legend shaking his head no, Warriors agreed to drink the potion so Legend would be left alone. Accepting the vile and knocking it back, Wars prayed the others would find them soon and that the game would end in their favor.

“Whatcha name?”

“Link.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Where are you from?”

“Castle Town.”

“Really? Yet I have never seen you before today. Are you from this Castle Town?”

‘So we are in Castle Town… Keep talking dumbass.’ “No.”

“Explain.”

“I’m from a different era, traveling through time and timelines hunting monsters that have been infected.”

“Are you a hero like this boy claims to be?”

“Yes, Hero of Warriors.”

“Of Warriors are ya? You a soldier?”

“A Captain appointed by the Queen.”

“How interesting. How many others are there traveling with you?”

“Nine of us total.” Warriors really wanted to shut up at this point, but his mouth was running on its own the second a question was asked. He didn’t have a choice.

“Nine? Anymore soldiers in this band of so-called heroes?”

“Two more, though all of us could be qualified due to the fights the Goddess has put us through.”

“You know what, I know what your life or death question is gonna be now.”

Warriors swallowed so thickly that he was sure the other two could hear him. “I win by telling the truth, right?”

“That’s right.” The man stood right beside Legend, knife too close to his face again. “Final question: Would you even cause harm to someone of royalty, no matter their rankings?”

“Wars don’t answer!!” Legend cried out, but Warriors couldn’t not answer or lie.

“Of course not.”

“Tisk, tisk… That’s a lie.”

Legend strained against his chains. “He doesn’t know! How is he supposed to tell the truth if he doesn’t know the truth?”

The man laughed a full belly laugh. “And whose fault was it for not telling him, hmm? Looks like today is your last day.”

Warriors was confused by both men's words. He didn’t lie, he physically couldn’t. What didn’t he know? “I told the truth. We won!”

“But you have caused harm to a royal.” He grabbed a fist full of Legend’s hair. “You just didn’t know he was one of them. You should tell him, since you won’t be able to soon.”

Legend focused his eyes, locking with Warriors. “M-my full name is Prince Link Eugine Lon-Hyrule. Zelda is my twin sister.” He then said quieter, “I’m so sorry Warrior- AHH!!”

The knife that carved into the fear filled face, was jabbed multiple times into the lower chest of Legend. After the first two times, he stopped all noises, shock taking over. His eyes were wide, mouth hanging open. Warriors knew Legend was bleeding, but it was blending in with his tunic too much to tell how badly.

“ NO!!” Warriors tried getting to his feet, still thrashing at his chain. He couldn’t get to full height, but he still fought in vain to get to the now slipped to the side Legend.

“Enjoy watching him rot.” The man said as he walked out the door, closing them in their single grave.

“Legend? Legend! I need you to put pressure on the wounds. Come one, I know you can do it. Come on, Vet, don’t give up on me now. You still have some explaining to do. I want to know more about the last name Lon. Legend, please, please… Someone get us OUT OF HERE!!”

Warriors watched the tears fall from Legends eyes, into the cut along his face. His hands were trembling as they were held loosely to his chest and he was in a curled up ball choking on blood. He looked so young, no older than sixteen. Warriors thought about it, he didn’t even know Legend’s age. For all he knew, the vet really could have been sixteen.

Wrist bleeding from the iron shackles digging in deep, Warriors still gave it his all to get free. He owed it to Legend. His own hot tears ran down his cheeks as he saw Legend’s breathing slow to nearly nothing. His eyes were vacant as they looked right at Warriors.

“Legend… please.” It was no more than a whisper.

“Wars?!”

“Legend?!”

Voices… Warriors heard voices.

“Link?!” That was a familiar voice, but there was no way she was here.

“Cap, Vet, where are you?!”

“In here… IN HERE! We are in here, hurry!!” Warriors picked up his fight to be free with the sounds of the others getting closer.

The door to the room was kicked in by Time, sky and Hyrule following. Behind them was a gray haired woman that looked and sounded much like Malon.

“Link!” The woman said as she landed with Hyrule by Legend’s side.

“Help him! Please help him!” Warriors was in his own state of shock now.

Time cupped both of Warriors cheeks, trying to calm him down. “Hey, Cap, he will be fine. Hyrule is going to take great care of him, but I need to know if you are injured.”

“N-no.”

“Okay, what happened.”

“T-they- We- i-I… I didn't know. I didn’t know and they made me drink tru-truth serum. I didn't know. This is my fault, ‘m sorry!” Warriors hysterics weren’t going to go away until after Legend was awake and responding.

Time broke the chains holding Warriors hands, letting him collapse into his chest. “You two are safe, but we need to get you to the ranch sooner rather than later.” He pressed a Red Potion to his lips, partly forcing it until Warriors realized what it was.

The haze of the hysteria cleared, allowing Warriors to see and hear clearly. He was helped to his feet, most of his weight supported by Time. His eyes could see Legend’s chest moving again and he let out a choked off sound when the violet eyes blinked.

[five-rivers]

First. Previous.

Clockwork hummed, mostly to Daniel, but partially to himself.  He was pleased by how the day had turned out so far.  There had been many possibilities, many branches stemming from Daniel’s choices.  Despite that, Daniel had still chosen to come here, to stay with him, to trust him with himself so completely that he had fallen asleep on Clockwork.  With a little help, yes, but the fact was there.

But there were other things to address.  

He waited a little longer, just to be sure.  Sometimes, the currents of time were such that even he had trouble navigating them.  No matter.  He didn’t especially need that for this.  

The earpiece next to the small camera chittered angrily.  The words would have been too quiet for a human to hear, and Daniel was too deeply asleep to take note of them, but Clockwork was far from human, and he was very awake.

He smiled at the artificial eye of the camera on the table.  “Hello, Dr. Fenton, Dr. Fenton.”

“What have you done to Danny?” demanded Madeline Fenton.  

“I have given him a place to rest, and prevented him from undertaking a dangerous journey on his own,” said Clockwork, calmly.  

“Let him go.”

“Yeah!  You have no right to kidnap our boy!”

“I did not kidnap him.  He came to me.”  Clockwork tilted his head.  “And I will not send him away.”

“You monster, you–!”

“I was not the one who sought to lock him away,” said Clockwork.  “Who kept him closed up in one place, against his wishes, to the point of distress.”

“We wouldn’t have to do that if it wasn’t for you,” hissed Madeline Fenton.  “If you didn’t–”

“Dr. Fenton,” interrupted Clockwork.  “Daniel is a child.  He will always be a child, because he died as one.  He is also only half human.  Treating him as a human child will do him no good.”

“And sending him to places like that will?”  snapped Madeline.  

“We’ve been making adjustments!” protested Jack at the same time.  

“You have sent him to far more dangerous places than Three Twilights,” said Clockwork.  

“Not knowingly.”

“Ah, the age-old argument of whether or not it is better for harm to be done out of ignorance or done with full cognizance.”

“We–”

“Jack, don’t engage.  Either let Danny go, or we are coming to get him.”

“You may try,” said Clockwork, “but you will not find us.  Daniel will go when he so desires, and not a moment sooner.  And speaking of time, you do not have an infinite amount.”

“Are you threatening us?”

“As you were threatening me?  No.  Merely stating a fact.  Someday, you will die, and Daniel will continue.  Will his sister then inherit the responsibility for his care?  And who shall be next, when she passes in turn?  His nieces and nephews, should they exist?  Do you think he will tolerate that?”

“What are you saying?” asked Jack, gruffly.  

“I am saying that one way or another, Daniel will someday come make his home, the place he always returns to, with me.  Whether that time comes before you die or after is up to you.  As you have seen, you will not be able to keep him locked away.”

.

“Okay,” said Danny, having watched Clockwork put the last small gear in place in the clock he was helping him repair.  “I… should probably go home.”

He didn’t want to.  Not because he was scared, or anything like that, but he knew his parents wouldn’t be happy with him - he’d purposefully left off the earpiece of his communications equipment when he woke up - and he didn’t know when he’d be let out again.  Surely, they’d patch the hole he’d gotten through this time.  

But on the other hand, he didn’t want to make them worry too much.  He knew they were only trying to keep him safe, as crazy as being stuck in the house all the time was making him.  

“Excellent timing,” said Clockwork.  “They should be arriving soon.”

Danny stared at him for a moment, not processing that statement.  “What, like in the Speeder?”

“Yes,” said Clockwork.  

“They’re coming here?”

“They are.”

“Are you– Do you– Are you going to meet them?” Danny asked.  

“I believe that would be unwise, at this juncture,” said Clockwork, removing the thin gloves he used in the workshop and replacing them with his normal thicker, more leathery pair.  “In the future, perhaps.  You should gather your things.”

“Right,” said Danny, sliding off the stool and making his way to the workshop door, “right.  Thank you for letting me visit.”

“Daniel.”

Danny paused to look over his shoulder.  “Yeah?”

“My home is yours, whenever you need it.”

Danny blushed.  “Thanks, Clockwork.”

[bloody-bee-tea]

Kaebedo Week 2023 Day 5 - Confession ~ Artworks

Albedo notices two minutes into his rant about work that Kaeya is not giving him his full attention. It would sting, if Albedo wouldn’t notice as well that it’s not for a lack of interest on Kaeay’s part and more because something else is keeping his attention. 

Something that makes Kaeya tense and his eyes narrow.

So far he hasn’t said anything and he also hasn’t given any indication that he wants Albedo to worry as well, so he simply goes on with his detailed explanation. 

He knows that most of it goes straight over Kaeya’s head–though he usually follows along better than most–and yet even distracted as Kaeya is, he never once gives him the impression of being bored.

Still, Albedo gives him another two minutes before whatever it is that distracts Kaeya wins. And right on the dot, Kaeya gives him a winning smile.

“Albedo, dear, if you would excuse me for just a second,” he interrupts Albedo who doesn’t even manage to agree before Kaeya leaves for the guy two tables to their right.

There’s a telltale warmth in Albedo’s chest as the word dear lingers in his mind but he tries his best to ignore it as he watches Kaeya speak with the other guy. It doesn’t seem to be quite a friendly conversation–Kaeya’s smile is just a little bit too sharp for that–but he frowns when Kaeya slides a piece of paper into his pocket.

He leaves the shocked guy with one last threat it seems before he makes his way back to Albedo, where he sits back down as if nothing at all happened.

“What’s wrong?” Albedo asks, watching as the guy hastily downs his coffee and then scrambles away.

Clearly Kaeya doesn’t suspect a threat because he lets the guy leave without a second look but something must have bothered him nonetheless.

Albedo drags his eyes back to Kaeya when he throws the piece of paper down on the table.

“The creep sketched us.” There’s anger in his voice and Albedo sees how tense he still is.

“Sketched us,” Albedo mumbles as he takes the paper and quickly unfolds it.

True to Kaeya’s words he’s greeted with a sketch of them both over lunch and while it’s not half bad, Albedo immediately hones in on all the ways the guy got Kaeya wrong.

He’s not the easiest subject to draw, Albedo will easily admit that, but even an amateur should try harder with the slope of his shoulder.

Albedo is about to critique the man’s technique when he remembers the anger in Kaeya’s voice.

“You’re angry,” he states the obvious but he trusts Kaeya to understand that it’s also a question.

Albedo doesn’t always understand human emotion and he definitely doesn’t understand Kaeya’s visceral reaction now.

“Of course I’m fucking angry. The creep stared at us during our entire lunch and sketched us without permission. That’s not something you do, Albedo,” Kaeya hisses and stares into the direction the guy ran off to. “Imagine if he had drawn Klee like that, without her permission.”

Albedo doesn’t quite get what’s so upsetting about the first part of Kaeya’s statement but he has to admit that the thought of a stranger staring at Klee for longer periods of time without her knowledge or consent makes him angry as well.

“I see,” he says and makes sure to commit the face to memory, in case he should try something again. “Did he give a reason?” Albedo still can’t help but to ask and Kaeya raises an eyebrow at him.

“Does he need one? Would that make it better in your eyes?” 

“No, I’m just–curious, I guess,” he gives back and decides to ignore the uneasy rolling of his stomach.

“I didn’t think to ask, to be honest,” Kaeya explains. “But it doesn’t matter if they do have a reason.”

That almost makes it sound as if–”Has this happened to you before?”

Albedo tilts his head as he watches how Kaeya rubs a hand over his mouth. He seems uneasy with the topic and Albedo simply wants to understand.

“There are people with kameras, sometimes.” Kaeya doesn’t sound too happy about it and Albedo almost regrets asking. “Taking pictures wherever they go, and printing them. It’s not–I don’t enjoying knowing that these people have my picture at their home.”

Albedo goes cold at that.

“I see.” Something in his voice must have given him away because Kaeya’s eyes snap to him. “Thank you for lunch.”

He doesn’t bother to lie that he has to get back to work, he simply gets up and leaves Kaeya right there at the table. It’s not the nicest thing he has ever done and he’s sure that Kaeya will have questions later, but right now Albedo needs to leave.

His feet don’t carry him back to his workshop, but bring him home instead and that somehow makes it even worse.

Because this is where he keeps all of the sketches he made of Kaeya.

Albedo has a habit of drawing whatever or whoever catches his attention at any given moment and he never thought this to be a problem. Usually he gives the sketches away, anyway and people have thanked him for it but not Kaeya’s.

Sketches of Kaeya he hordes at home like a jealous dragon, hidden away for everyone but him. And clearly betraying Kaeya’s trust in him in the process.

His stomach lurches as he thinks back to the anger in Kaeya’s voice as he talked about the guy, the disgusted way with which he threw the sketch on the table and Albedo’s hands tremble.

He wonders if his lack of understanding of human custom will be enough to explain his faux-pas away and a moment later he chides himself for thinking only about himself when he so clearly violated Kaeya’s boundaries, however unwittingly it might have been.

He’ll have to apologize. He’ll have to compile all the sketches and hand them over to Kaeya and hope that it will be enough. 

There’s a painful feeling in his chest when he imagines Kaeya looking at him with that much anger and it’s almost enough to make him discard his plan. 

But Albedo knows he can’t do that.

He made Kaeya believe they are friends, and he has to own up to his mistake.

Just–maybe not today. Or tomorrow.

He’ll get his feelings back under control first, and then, when he feels settled again, he’ll talk to Kaeya.

And until then he’ll simply have to avoid him.

~*~*~

Albedo manages three days before Kaeya ambushes him in his own home.

He should have expected it, really; a change of habit is always something noteworthy, Kaeya has explained that to him more than once, but still. Albedo thought he had more time.

Shame licks up his spine as Kaeya looks at him and he is no closer than he was three days ago to figuring out how he is going to explain this to Kaeya.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Kaeya drawls out, clearly trying for disinterested as he lounges on Albedo’s couch and he’s not even going to ask how he got in. “There are only ever two reasons for people avoiding me. One,” he holds up a finger and fixes Albedo with his gaze. “I deliberately did something that made them want to avoid me. Two, they are trying to hide something from me.”

“Kaeya,” Albedo starts but of course he doesn’t get very far.

“I know I didn’t do the first one, so that means you’re hiding something from me. And I find that I dislike that.”

He’s going to dislike what Albedo is going to tell him in a second a great deal more but instead of saying that Albedo says “Wait here,” before he leaves to get the compiled sketches.

The folder is much thicker than even Albedo is comfortable with and it doesn’t help that he apparently sketches Kaeya in all kinds of situations and even from memory. He even sat down to paint him on canvas once and Albedo will have to retrieve that painting after their talk.

Kaeya is still sitting right there on the couch when Albedo gets back and the confusion is clearly written on his face when he notices the folder in Albedo’s hands.

“I have a confession to make,” Albedo says and hands Kaeya the compiled artworks. “And I need to apologise.”

Kaeya’s face twitches at that but he takes the folder and he doesn’t hesitate to flip through the sketches. He doesn’t look at all of them–Albedo is ashamed to admit that there are way too many for that–but he must get the gist of the situation.

“What’s the confession?” Kaeya still asks, lingering on a sketch of himself, staring off into the distance with a small smile on his face.

He had actually been watching Klee that day, but Albedo hadn’t bothered to capture that as well.

“I’ve been drawing you,” Albedo says and doesn’t quite understand the look of disappointment that flits over Kaeya’s face. “A lot, as you can see. And I have to apologise for that. I never thought to stop and think how that must make you feel and I can assure you that it will not happen ever again.”

It will be hard for him, because sketching Kaeya is something he does to keep his fingers occupied when his mind wanders and it will be a difficult habit to break.

But he knows that he must, if he ever wants to call Kaeya his friend again.

“Where is this–ah,” Kaeya trails off and closes the folder. “The guy during lunch.”

“You were angry. Angrier than I have ever seen you outside of threats to your loved ones and it was clear his stare had made you uncomfortable. I failed to realize how I must have made you feel. And I truly can’t apologize enough for it.”

Kaeya puts the folder to the side before he crosses his legs and leans back against the couch. 

“You think your gaze makes me uncomfortable.”

It’s not a question but it makes even less sense as a statement and so Albedo has to ask for clarification.

“Doesn’t it?”

“Your gaze is–familiar,” he says and Albedo gets the distinct impression that it’s not quite what he was going for. 

“So that’s why you’ve never noticed,” he mutters and he guesses it must make sense. 

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Kaeya gives back and just like that, Albedo is at a loss again.

“But you’ve never said something! Why would you not say something when it makes you uncomfortable?”

“I never said your gaze makes me uncomfortable, though,” Kaeya says and leans forward, pinning Albedo with his gaze. “You’re so smart. Draw some conclusions from that.”

Albedo finds it hard to think with Kaeya looking at him like that and so he turns around. 

“There’s still a painting I need to get,” he mutters and almost flees his own living-room. He can feel Kaeya’s gaze follow him all the time and while the knowledge that Kaeya is watching him makes his stomach turn it also feels strangely–comforting. Familiar, just like Kaeya said, though it's not quite fitting.

Albedo doesn’t immediately make for his drawing room, because he feels unsteady enough on his legs that he has to lean against the wall and take a few deep breaths first and he takes that time to mull over Kaeya’s words.

He wasn’t upset over the sketches or Albedo’s confession. He knows Albedo has been watching him. He was visibly upset that the other guy watched him.

It’s not a lot to go on, but Albedo is still reasonably sure that the correct conclusion is that Kaeya doesn’t mind it because it’s him.

That Albedo is special somehow.

The thought makes his cheeks go hot and Albedo wasn’t even aware they could do that. 

There is one other thing that bothers him though, and that is the look of disappointment that so briefly passed over Kaeya’s face. Albedo thinks about that, and the fact that he even has a folder as thick as he does with nothing but pictures of Kaeya and the funny way his chest and stomach sometimes feel when he is together with Kaeya. All of that brings him to the realization that maybe there’s not only something to learn about Kaeya, but about himself as well.

And if Albedo is right about this then–

He pushes himself off the wall and marches right back into the living-room.

“Where’s my painting?” Kaeya asks and the casual possessiveness of his words makes Albedo tremble.

“I have another confession to make,” he declares and going by the satisfied smirk on Kaeya’s face he knows exactly where this is going. And he’s not doing anything to stop Albedo and he’s not leaving either and that tells Albedo all he needs to know.

It makes it easier to say it, knowing Kaeya will not break his heart.

“I’m in love with you.”

It feels strange to say, because Albedo has never given much thought to feelings like love, but it also feels right in a way he can hardly put into words.

“Took you long enough,” Kaeya mutters under his breath and then gets up to pull Albedo into a hug. 

Albedo freezes for a moment, not quite used to this much physical contact but when Kaeya simply holds him, he eventually melts into the embrace.

“In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m in love with you, too,” Albedo hears him mumble into his hair and even though Albedo had figured it out, it’s still more than nice to hear it as well.

“Is this blanket permission to draw you whenever I feel like it?” Albedo can’t help but to ask when his eyes fall on the folder on the couch and he feels Kaeya chuckle.

“You already had that, sunshine,” Kaeya gives back, pressing a kiss to Albedo’s hair.

It puts the tiny nagging voice in Albedo’s mind to rest and he presses closer to Kaeya in answer. 

Albedo can already tell that his previous aversion to physical contact might change but he’s pretty sure that one thing is not going to change.

How often he draws Kaeya.

He’ll probably need another folder and he might even take Kaeya to buy it. Now that he's sure that he won't mind this at all.

[jocentric]

Happy Sunday! | Wolfstar x reader

—

A/N: not a religious fic. More of a tradition fic.

—

Grace was the one who woke you, yelling about how her little sister was crying. You wondered how you hadn’t heard it, but quickly realized it was because your tv had been up a bit too loud. Sirius got up first, telling you he’d manage to calm her down before breakfast, but something told you he wouldn’t be able to.

You rolled out of bed, shaking Remus awake, deciding if you and Sirius had to deal with two little grouchy kids then he had to as well. He laughed at that statement, but got up nonetheless. Remus promised he and Sirius could keep the girls in their room while you hid their Easter baskets. And to your surprise, they actually did it.

Usually Chelsea was the hardest to calm down, but it seemed Grace had finally caught on to the tradition, screaming about how she’s better than her sister because she’ll find her basket first. Truth be told, you always hid Graces better. She was older, so she had an advantage. Especially with how Chelsea was only three.

Just as you’d thought, Chelsea found her basket first, happy to see all the candy and the little coloring book with crayons that she got. Grace was upset that she didn’t ‘win’, but quickly forgot about it when you promised she could help make cookies later on. Remus perked up at the words ‘chocolate chip’, and Sirius tried to convince you to make them now, but Grace picked a fight with her sister, distracting them all.

Mulch to Remus’s dismay, breakfast was next on the schedule instead of cookies. Sirius was helping Chelsea and Grace pick out a page to color, Remus trying to organize the crayons from brightest to darkest. He threw his hands into the air when Grace picked through the crayons, messing up the pattern.

Sirius came up behind you while you cooked, wrapping his arms around you. “Proud of you,” he whispered. You giggled at the sudden praise. “For what?” you asked, flipping the pancake.

“I just am. Rem is too, he just doesn’t know how to say it.” You both looked back at Remus, who was also coloring a page with the girls. “I know,” you responded.

“We mean it though. We are very proud of you, my love.” you shrugged him off of you, wanting to get breakfast done, but more so because you liked the sight of your husbands with your kids.

Chelsea wanted to try to cut her food herself, but you had to tell her she couldn’t, which started another fit. Eventually giving her the fake utensils from her kitchen set to settle her, you sat down to eat with your family.

Remus, not-so surprisingly, ate most of the chocolates out of Chelsea’s basket with the excuse that she was too young to have all of them. Grace, on the other hand, guarded her candy with her life. “Stay away from them or papa gets it!” she yelled, holding Sirius’s arm against her as if she were holding him hostage. Remus laughed but backed away from her candy basket, pretending to be scared of the little girl.

A little while later and Chelsea was down for her nap, Sirius and Remus were relieved they’d have a few hours without dealing with another tantrum. You helped Grace build her dollhouse, putting the little action figures Sirius had given her in it, telling her to take good care of them just as he’d done when he was her age.

Come dinner time, Remus was walking out of the girls’ room with a clearly mad she had to get up toddler. You weren’t surprised when she asked if she could have her candy for dinner instead and then threw a fit when you adamantly told her no. Sirius was the one to calm her, whispering something in her ear that made her giggle.

You’d thought he’d promised her something, but all he said was, “don’t worry, they said the same for me.” and apparently that was grounds to have a laughing fit.

“All right, all right,” you said, settling the laughing as best you could. “Happy Easter, my loves.”

“It’s Sunday too!” Grace yelled.

You rolled your eyes. “Okay then, happy Sunday.” Your husbands copied your statement.

“Happy Sunday!” Chelsea yelled, trying to copy all of you, though it sounded more like “app Sundee” earning a laugh from Remus, who copied what she said, making the little girl laugh.

“Happy Sunday,” you said under your breath. “To many more and this weird family.”