#it's been almost a year but i think i'm ready to just cut ties

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review by @zyafics

ok i can't contain myself to write so i will be reading (sorry for all the tiktoks send over dms hahaha) ⬇️

He hated physical therapy, but what he hated more was sitting on the sidelines, watching his teammates on the ice while he was stuck on a cushioned table with resistance bands and an overenthusiastic sports medic, with hair pulled into a no-nonsense ponytail and a pair of blue scrubs that somehow still looked cute on you.

always obsessed with your descriptions and im grinning so hard knowing that's ME hehehe

It was kind of cute, the way you tried so hard to keep things strictly professional between the two of you.

NOT FOR LONG I READ THE WARNING

He liked the way you said his name—like you were in control, like you were the one calling the shots. It was refreshing. 

my dom girlyyy

You weren’t the kind of girl to fall for a player, especially one with a reputation like Rafe’s. Besides, you were already with someone. Logan—the clean-cut, dependable defenseman from a rival school. You’d been together for over a year, and things were great.

SCREAMINGGGGGGGGGG (muffled behind a pillow)

He grinned, like a stupidly in love sick puppy, unbothered by the jab. “Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

me rn: login who???

"Good guy?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone describe me like that."

im so giddily rn, their banter is TOP TIER

 “Logan’s a lucky guy.”

OH I SPELT IT WRONG LOLLLLL

He hated Logan more than he hated the pain in his knee.

🤭 im like a schoolgirl rn

“Did he hurt you?” His voice was low, a dangerous edge to it that he usually kept hidden. “Because if he did, I swear to God—”

imma be so honest i thought WE were gonna be cheating but i guess HE'S cheating that scumbag

“He’s not worth you,” Rafe said softly, stepping closer, his anger replaced by something gentler,  “You deserve better than that. Way better.”

I KNOW so give me that dick 😁

Rafe’s knee had healed remarkably well, and now the day had arrived: his first game back on the ice. As it drew near, a strange sense of anxiety creeped in. Your life had become so closely tied to Rafe’s recovery over the past few months that the thought of him no longer needing your help—or your company—left you with an unsettling emptiness.

i need him to SLAM into logan ohmygod

He skates straight at Logan, not bothering with any pretense. If Logan wants to play dirty, he is more than ready to play dirtier. Logan barely has time to react before Rafe drops his gloves, his intent crystal clear.

LET'S FUCKING GOOOO

You don’t let him finish. Instead, you grab the front of his jersey and pull him down to your level, crashing your lips against his with a force that takes him completely off guard.

ANGRY MAKEOUT SESSION LETS GOOO

You break away just long enough to breathe, your lips brushing against his as you whisper, “You’re such a fucking idiot.”

“Been waiting for over an hour to do that,” you breathe.

oh im horny

“Then do it again,” he murmurs, “Do whatever the hell you want to me.”

oh HE'S horny

Rafe lets out a low, almost guttural sound as you rock your hips against him, the pressure making him tighten his grip on you, holding you in place as he grounds himself against you. The sensation makes your breath hitch, a needy whimper escaping your lips that only spurs him on. 

ok im at a cafe, reading this smut on my 14'' screen where everyone can surely see. let me pack up and go home and i'll be back to react.

“Fucking idiot,” you whisper again, your voice rough with desire as you nip at his bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth before soothing the bite with your tongue. 

I'M BACK

Without another word, he pulls you toward the locker room, his grip firm and unyielding as he leads you through the maze of benches and lockers. Your heart races as he pushes open the door to the showers, the sound of the water echoing off the tile walls. The room is empty, the air thick with steam, and the second you step inside, he’s pouncing on you. Clothes are gone in the blink of an eye.

Oh. My. God. this is so fucking hot what the FUCK

Rafe nearly passes out from the sight. Watching himself disappear inside you has to be his favorite sight in the entire world. 

it's me, but THAT SHOULD BE ME!!!!!!

"Cameron? You in here, man?" Rafe freezes, his body tense, his cock still buried deep inside you as he glances toward the door, his breath ragged. 

IM GRINNING my favorite part of public sex smut is the fact they're almost caught hahahahaa

He chuckles softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he looked down at you with a mixture of affection and desire. "Yeah, but I’m your fucking idiot."

my baby my baby my babyyy

final thoughts—i'm obsessed with this. ur writing. you. ohmygod, as always, the first thing that comes to my head is your descriptions. when you were describing reader, the medical training, the equipment and the environment, i always feel so immersed by your vocabulary and imagery. next, the fucking BANTER, oh you got me clutching my chest, giggling in the middle of a cafe. thank god no one was looking over my screen. but truly, i love how lowkey smitten rafe is with reader. he's always in love with her before the story truly begins and i love how much softer this version of rafe is. don't get me wrong, he's possessive and a beast on the ice, but something about him is so baby girl. thank you, gigi, for doing my request justice, i swear i want more!!!!

looking like motivation - hockey!r.c (+18)

requested by my #1 @zya4lifers

warnings: meantions of cheating; SMUT.

Rafe’s day started the same way it had for the last two months: with a groan of pain that shot up from his knee and settled into his mood like a stubborn storm cloud. 

He hated physical therapy, but what he hated more was sitting on the sidelines, watching his teammates on the ice while he was stuck on a cushioned table with resistance bands and an overenthusiastic sports medic, with hair pulled into a no-nonsense ponytail and a pair of blue scrubs that somehow still looked cute on you.

At least that was what he thought when he first met you. 

But two weeks in, his hatred had morphed into something else entirely, something way more complicated. He wasn’t sure when it happened—maybe when he caught you singing quietly along with the radio while taping up his knee, or when you’d given him that first, honest-to-God smile that wasn’t out of politeness but genuine amusement at some stupid joke he’d made. And he made a lot of those. 

Now, sitting on that same damn table, Rafe found himself looking forward to PT in a way that had nothing to do with his injury. You walked in, clipboard in hand, looking as professional as always. It was kind of cute, the way you tried so hard to keep things strictly professional between the two of you. Rafe knew he got under your skin—hell, he made sure of it. He could tell by the way your eyes flicked up to meet his for just a second longer than necessary before you quickly looked away. You tried to be cool, but he knew better.

“Alright, Cameron. How’s the knee today?”

He put on his best wounded-puppy face. “Terrible. I might never skate again.”

“Shut up.”

“And I could be better,” Rafe drawled, his lips curling into that signature smirk. “But seeing you always helps.”

You rolled your eyes, but he saw the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “You say that every time.”

“And I mean it every time,” he shot back, winking at you.

You tried to ignore him, busying yourself with adjusting the equipment. “Let’s focus on your knee, alright?”

“Whatever you say, Doc,” Rafe said, stretching out on the table with a lazy grin.

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitched up. “We’ve got to work on your pain tolerance.”

He couldn’t resist. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to keep me on my toes.”

Finally, you looked up, your expression deadpan. “And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to avoid actually doing your therapy, Cameron.”

Touché.

He liked the way you said his name—like you were in control, like you were the one calling the shots. It was refreshing. 

The first few minutes of the session passed in relative silence as you guided him through the exercises, your hands expertly working his injured knee. Rafe winced, but it wasn’t all from the pain. It was from trying to resist the urge to say something that might actually cross the line. But resisting wasn’t really his style.

“So, what’s your boyfriend up to this weekend?” Rafe asked, his voice casual, but his eyes sharp, watching your reaction.

You weren’t the kind of girl to fall for a player, especially one with a reputation like Rafe’s. Besides, you were already with someone. Logan—the clean-cut, dependable defenseman from a rival school. You’d been together for over a year, and things were great.

You looked up at him, a little caught off guard. “Out of town.”

Rafe snorted, unable to help himself. “Figures.”

You frowned, straightening up to give him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rafe shrugged, feigning innocence. “Nothing.”

“He’s busy,” you said defensively.

“Too busy for you?” he pushed, his tone dripping with faux concern. “That’s a shame. If you were mine, I’d make time.”

You gave him an unimpressed look, “I’m sure you would.”

“You don’t think I would?”

“I think you’ve already got your hands full with the cheerleading team.” 

He liked to pretend you sounded jealous and not critical. 

Rafe chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Cheerleaders are fun and all, but they’re not really my type.”

Okay, that was half a lie, but in his defense, he hadn’t slept with anyone on the cheer squad since sophomore year. 

You raised an eyebrow, feigning disinterest as you adjusted the strap on his knee brace. “And what exactly is your type, Cameron?”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. “Complicated. Smart. Gorgeous.”

You didn’t miss a beat, even as your pulse quickened. “So, basically the opposite of you?”

He grinned, like a stupidly in love sick puppy, unbothered by the jab. “Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

You shook your head, trying to hide the smile threatening to break through. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“Only when it comes to you,” he replied smoothly, his eyes locked on yours.

There was no denying the chemistry, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. But you were with someone else, someone who, despite his flaws, you cared about. Still, Rafe made it hard to remember why you were trying to resist in the first place.

“Rafe, we really should focus on your PT,” you said, trying to steer the conversation back to safer territory.

“Trust me, I am focusing,” he replied, his tone suggesting he wasn’t talking about his knee.

You rolled your eyes, standing up straighter to put some distance between you. 

“Right. Well, you need to focus on this next exercise. We’re going to work on your range of motion.”

He sighed dramatically but didn’t argue, watching you with a lazy smile as you moved to demonstrate the exercise. He couldn’t help but admire the way you carried yourself—confident, knowledgeable, and completely fucking beautiful. It was a challenge, and Rafe Cameron loved a challenge.

As you guided his leg through the motion, your hands firm but gentle, Rafe couldn’t resist pushing a little more. “You know, you never answered my question.”

“What question?” you asked, though you had a feeling you knew where this was going.

“What you’re doing this weekend,” he said, his eyes locked on yours, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch.

You glanced away, focusing on the movement of his knee, your fingers brushing against his skin as you adjusted the angle. “I’ll probably just catch up on some work. Maybe relax.”

“Sounds boring,” Rafe remarked, though there was a playful lilt to his voice. “You should let me take you out.”

You looked up sharply, caught off guard by his directness. “Rafe, I’m—”

“Taken, I know,” he interrupted, his tone still light but with an undercurrent of something more serious. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun, does it? Just as friends.”

“Just as friends?” you echoed skeptically, knowing full well what his idea of ‘just friends’ probably entailed.

Rafe shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “We could get dinner, maybe hit up a bar, talk about something other than my knee for once. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

“No.”

His smirk faltered, just for a second, before it came back stronger, more determined. He leaned back on the table, pretending to stretch as he tried to mask the sting of rejection. "No?" he echoed, as if the concept was foreign to him.

You crossed your arms, standing firm even though his eyes on you made your heart race. "No. We both know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to happen."

"And what exactly am I trying to do?" he asked, feigning innocence with a smirk that told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

You rolled your eyes, refusing to get drawn into his game. "You know what. I’m here to help you with your injury, not to entertain whatever fantasy you’ve got going on."

"Who says it’s a fantasy?" he shot back, his voice lowering, taking on a more serious tone that caught you off guard. "Maybe I just want to get to know you better."

You paused, searching his face for any sign of sincerity. But Rafe was hard to read when he wanted to be, his playful exterior a well-practiced mask that he rarely let slip. "Rafe, you're a good guy, but—"

"Good guy?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone describe me like that."

"Fine," you conceded with a small smile. "Maybe ‘good’ is a stretch. But you’re not as bad as you want people to think."

Rafe’s smirk faded. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, and it made you hesitate, made you wonder if there was more to him than just the cocky, relentless flirt.

But before you could dwell on it, he was back to his usual self, flashing you that devil-may-care grin that made it hard to stay mad at him. "You know, I’d actually take that as a compliment if it came from anyone else."

"Don’t get too excited," you replied, trying to keep things light. "I still think you’re a pain in the ass."

"Yeah, but I’m your pain in the ass," he teased, stupidly blinking his lashes up at you.

You shook your head, unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up. "You really don’t give up, do you?"

"Not when it comes to something I want," he said, his voice dropping an octave.

"Cameron, this isn’t going to happen. I have a boyfriend."

He shrugged, unbothered. "And? You’re no fun. You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

You handed him a water bottle, expression neutral. “You’re just out of shape.”

“Out of shape?” He looked at her, incredulous. “Do you see this body?”

You didn’t take the bait. “I see a guy who’s been slacking off on his conditioning.”

He laughed, low and warm, as he took a sip of water. “You’re tough. Tougher than most of the coaches I’ve had.”

You shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “Someone has to keep you in line.”

 “Logan’s a lucky guy.”

The hockey world was small, and word got around, of course he knew his name.

“Logan’s great,” you said, a little too quickly.

Rafe nodded, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, I’m sure he is.”

He didn’t push it further, though. Instead, he fell back into his usual routine of teasing and flirting. Every time you guided his leg through a stretch or adjusted the equipment, he found his mind wandering, imagining what it would be like if things were different. If he were the one you were coming home to after a long day, if he were the one you smiled at without that guarded look in your eyes.

But you were with Logan, and as much as he hated to admit it, Rafe wasn’t the kind of guy to cross that line. Not when you were clearly trying so hard to keep things professional between the two of you.

As the session wrapped up, you handed him his schedule for the next few days, your demeanor as cool and composed as ever. “I’ll see you on Thursday. Make sure you keep up with the exercises over the next couple of days, and don’t overdo it.”

He took the paper from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest of moments. It was enough to send a jolt of electricity through him.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be good,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

“Try to stay out of trouble, okay?”

 “Can’t make any promises.”

He spent the weekend bored out of his mind, thinking about you—wondering if you were with Logan, if the guy was actually smart enough to know what he had.

He hated Logan more than he hated the pain in his knee.

The guy was too perfect, too dependable, too fucking boring. And Rafe had been praying, in a way he wouldn’t admit to anyone, that something would happen—something that would make you see Logan for the jackass he really was. It wasn’t that he thought he was a better guy; he knew his own flaws better than anyone. But he also knew that he could make you happier, make you laugh harder, make you feel things that Logan never could.

So when you walked in late to the next session, he was ready to make a joke, to tease you about finally deciding to show up. But the words died on his lips when he saw you. You weren’t looking at him, not really, just muttering a half-hearted apology as you dropped your bag in the corner. But when you finally met his gaze, his chest tightened.

Your eyes were bloodshot red, the kind of red that came from hours of crying, from tears that wouldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried. You looked exhausted, like you hadn’t slept in days, and your usual spark was nowhere to be found.

His first instinct was to make a joke, to lighten the mood the way he always did, but he couldn’t. Not when you looked like that.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice void of its usual cockiness. “You okay?”

You nodded, but it was the kind of nod that was meant to shut someone up, not because you actually meant it. You were far from okay.

“You’re late,” he said, his tone teasing, but even he could hear the concern underneath.

“I know, sorry,” you replied, your voice small, almost defeated.

Rafe frowned, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. This wasn’t like you. You were always so put together, so in control, and seeing you like this was…so unsettling.

“What happened?” he asked, more serious now, the joking tone completely gone.

You shook your head, avoiding his gaze as you busied yourself with the equipment, but Rafe wasn’t going to let it go that easily. Not when he could see the pain written all over your face.

“Come on, what’s going on?” he pressed, his voice soft but insistent. “Did something happen with Logan?”

The way you flinched at his name told him everything he needed to know. His chest tightened, protectiveness swelling inside him. He’d always thought Logan was too good to be true, but seeing you like this confirmed it.

“Did he hurt you?” His voice was low, a dangerous edge to it that he usually kept hidden. “Because if he did, I swear to God—”

“No,” you interrupted, your voice cracking slightly as you finally looked at him, “I mean, yes, but… it’s not like that.”

His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “What did he do?”

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat as you tried to hold it together. But there was no point in pretending anymore, not when Rafe was looking at you like that—like he actually cared, like he was ready to go to war for you if that’s what it took.

“He cheated,” you finally whispered, your voice trembling as the tears you’d been holding back threatened to spill over. “I found out through a fucking DM on Instagram. Some girl… she just messaged me out of the blue and told me everything. And when I confronted him, he didn’t even deny it. He just—just said it wasn’t a big deal.”

Rafe’s vision blurred with red-hot anger. He wanted to find Logan and beat the shit out of him for making you cry, for being stupid enough to let you go. But more than that, he wanted to make you feel better, to make the hurt go away, even if he didn’t know how.

“That fucking asshole,” He growled, his voice trembling with barely controlled rage. “I swear to God, I’ll—let me get on that ice and I’ll wipe the entire ring with his face.”

“Rafe, don’t,” you said quickly, cutting him off. “It’s not worth it. He’s not worth it, okay?”

His heart twisted at the broken look in your eyes, the way your voice wavered as if you didn’t quite believe your own words.

“He’s not worth you,” Rafe said softly, stepping closer, his anger replaced by something gentler,  “You deserve better than that. Way better.”

You looked up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. It wasn’t like him to be so serious. But here he was, looking at you like you were the most important person in the world, and it made your heart ache even more.

“I don’t know what I deserve anymore,” you admitted, your voice small and lost.

He reached out, hesitating for just a second before he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing away the tear that had finally escaped.

“You deserve someone who knows what they have when they have you,” he said, his voice steady, his eyes locked on yours. “Someone who would never make you cry like this. Someone who would never, ever cheat on you.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over at his words. “Rafe…”

“I’m serious,” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re… you’re amazing, you know that? Any guy would be lucky to have you, and Logan’s a fucking idiot for not seeing that.”

You shook your head, trying to keep it together, but it was no use.

You started to cry, the kind of deep, gut-wrenching sobs that you’d been holding in all weekend. And before you knew it, you were collapsing into his arms, letting him hold you as you cried, his arms strong and steady around you.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to shush you or tell you everything was going to be okay. He just held you, his hand gently rubbing your back as you let it all out, crying into his chest until there were no more tears left.

When you finally pulled back, your face red and puffy from crying, you only uttered a small, “Thank you.”

Rafe nodded, his eyes soft as he looked down at you. “Anytime.”

And then, without thinking, you leaned up and pressed a soft, hesitant kiss to his cheek, lingering for just a second before pulling away. He blinked, a little stunned by the gesture, but before he could say anything, you stepped back, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

“Do you mind if we reschedule for tomorrow?” you said quickly, your voice still shaky. “I’m not sure I-“

“Of course not.”

You breathed out in relief, “Thank you again. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He wanted to tell you to stay, to tell you that it was okay to not be okay, that you didn’t have to face this alone. But he knew you needed space, needed time to process everything that had happened.

“Yeah,” he said softly, nodding as you turned to leave. “Tomorrow.”

He wanted to be there for you, to be the one you turned to when everything fell apart. But more than that, he wanted to be the one to put you back together again, to show you that not all guys were like Logan—that he wasn’t like Logan.

And as you disappeared down the hallway, he made a silent promise to himself: he was going to make you see that. No matter what it took.

⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ

The weeks passed, each session with Rafe seamlessly flowing into the next. What started as this totally professional thing, strictly business, slowly morphed into something way more personal. His cocky jokes and playful banter had shifted into these deep conversations that actually mattered, and somewhere along the way, you found myself getting closer to him than you ever expected.

Rafe’s knee had healed remarkably well, and now the day had arrived: his first game back on the ice. As it drew near, a strange sense of anxiety creeped in. Your life had become so closely tied to Rafe’s recovery over the past few months that the thought of him no longer needing your help—or your company—left you with an unsettling emptiness.

You had prepared yourself for the possibility that he might distance himself once he was back on the ice. After all, athletes had their own lives, their own routines, and you were just the therapist who had helped him get to this point. But when he invited you to his first game, the gesture came as a welcome. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, he’d slowly lurked his way into your heart. 

It was after a particularly intense session, where you’d pushed him harder than ever before, that he brought it up. You were finishing up, wiping down the equipment while he caught his breath, stretching out his legs on the bench.

“You know,” Rafe started, his voice casual but with a hint of something more in it, “I’ve got my first game back tomorrow night.”

You looked up, catching the subtle edge in his tone. “Yeah, I’ve heard. You must be excited.”

“Excited? Nervous as hell, more like it.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “It’s been a long time coming. A lot of pressure to perform, y’know?”

You nodded, understanding him. You’d seen how hard he’d worked, how much this comeback meant to him. “You’ll do great, Cameron. You’re more than ready.”

He smiled at that, but there was something else in his expression, something hesitant. “I was thinking…maybe you could come. To the game, I mean. It’d be nice to have someone there who’s seen the whole process, who knows what it took to get back on that ice.”

His words hung in the air, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. It wasn’t just the invitation—it was what it represented. He didn’t just see you as the therapist who’d helped him heal. He saw you as someone important, someone he wanted by his side as he took this next step.

 “I’d love to, Rafe. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

Relief washed over his face, followed by a grin that was equal parts gratitude and something else— “Good,” he said, his voice quieter now, “because I’d hate for you to miss it. You’ve been a big part of this, more than you know.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you found yourself blushing under his gaze. 

“I’m just doing my job,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light, but the look in his eyes told you that he saw right through your attempt to downplay it.

“Yeah, well, I’m glad it’s you,” Rafe said, his voice earnest. “I don’t think I could’ve done this with anyone else.”

The sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at you as if you were the only person in the world at that moment, made it hard to breathe. This was more than just an invitation to a game. This was him telling you, in his own way, that you mattered to him—that you were more than just his therapist, that you were someone he wanted to keep around.

“I’m glad it was me too,” you whispered back, unable to tear your eyes away from his.

“Tomorrow night, then.”

“Tomorrow night.”

Now, as you sit in the stands, watching Rafe skate out onto the ice, you feel a nervous anticipation that has little to do with the game itself.

Just before the puck drops, Rafe catches your eye, giving you a confident wink that sends your heart racing. He knows what this game means, not just for him, but for you as well.

Logan is there, playing on the opposite team. You haven’t seen him in exactly two months. Whatever feelings you had for him disappeared the moment you found out about his betrayal, but your ego still hurts like hell.

The energy in the arena is electric, a buzz that makes his blood hum with anticipation. His first game back, and the stakes couldn’t be higher—not just because of his injury, not just because it’s a rivalry match, but because Logan is on the other side of the ice. Rafe’s jaw clenches at the thought of that bastard, the memory of your tear-streaked face still fresh in his mind.

During warm-ups, he spotted Logan, skating like he didn’t have a care in the world, like he hadn’t just thrown away the best thing that ever happened to him. Rafe’s grip tightens on his stick, his knuckles white against the black tape. The rage simmering beneath his skin isn’t just about the game. It’s personal.

His focus is razor-sharp, every movement precise, every play calculated. But no matter how much he tries to concentrate on the game, his eyes keep drifting back to Logan, who skates circles around the ice like he owns it.

The first period passes without incident, but by the second, the tension is boiling over. Rafe feels it building, that need to do something, to break Logan’s face in half. He doesn’t just want to beat him; he wants to humiliate him, to knock that smug look off his face once and for all.

Then it happens.

Midway through the second period, Logan makes a hard hit on one of Rafe’s teammates, sending the guy crashing into the boards. The hit is clean, but it’s the arrogance in Logan’s smirk that pushes Rafe over the edge.

He doesn’t hesitate. 

He skates straight at Logan, not bothering with any pretense. If Logan wants to play dirty, he is more than ready to play dirtier. Logan barely has time to react before Rafe drops his gloves, his intent crystal clear.

“You think you can just get away with that?” He snarls, his voice low and menacing as he shoves Logan hard in the chest, the force sending him stumbling back on his skates.

Logan’s eyes flash with surprise, quickly followed by anger. “What the hell’s your problem, Cameron?”

He doesn’t bother with a reply. 

He swings, his fist connecting solidly with Logan’s jaw. The satisfying crunch of bone against bone is drowned out by the roar of the crowd, but Rafe doesn’t care. He’s been waiting for this moment, waiting to unleash all the pent-up anger and frustration that’s been eating away at him since the day you walked into that PT room with your heart shattered.

Logan staggers back, his expression twisting with fury. He recovers quickly, launching himself at Rafe with a wild swing, but Rafe is ready. He dodges the punch and counters with another one of his own, this time aiming for Logan’s ribs. He can feel the impact reverberate up his arm, but it’s not enough. He wants more.

“Come on!” He shouts, face red from all the pent-up anger simmering inside him. “Is that all you’ve fucking got?”

Logan grits his teeth, struggling to keep his balance. “You’re fucking crazy, Cameron!”

“You haven't seen shit," He spits back, landing another punch to Logan’s midsection. “But at least I know how to treat someone right.”

Logan’s eyes widen, the realization of what this is really about dawning on him. “This is about her? You’re seriously going to throw down over some girl?”

Rafe’s vision goes red at the mention of you, the casual way Logan dismisses you as “some girl.” He doesn’t care that he’s going too far, doesn’t care that the refs are probably going to break this up any second. All he cares about is making Logan feel a fraction of the pain he caused you.

“You don’t get to talk about her,” He growls, grabbing Logan by the collar and yanking him close. “You don’t even get to think about her.”

Logan tries to shove him off, but Rafe is relentless, landing punch after punch, each one fueled by the memory of you crying in his arms, by the way your voice trembled when you told him what Logan had done.

By now, the refs are on them, trying to pull Rafe away, but he isn’t finished. Not yet.

“You don’t deserve her,” He hisses through clenched teeth, his fist connecting with Logan’s face one last time before the refs finally manage to separate them. “You never did.”

Logan stumbles back, his face a bloody mess, and for a brief moment, he feels a little satisfaction. But it isn’t enough to stop the anger, the frustration, the overwhelming need to protect you from ever being hurt like that again.

He sits in the penalty box, his chest heaving as he tries to calm the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He can barely hear the crowd over the sound of his own heartbeat, but he knows they’re going wild. The fight has been brutal, and he’s given Logan exactly what he deserved. But as the rush of the fight starts to fade, he starts to overthink: how will you react?

The game ends with a hard-fought win for his team, but the victory feels hollow. As his teammates celebrate on the ice, Rafe’s thoughts are miles away, fixated on you. What if you’re pissed? What if you think he’s overstepped?

After the final whistle, he makes his way to the locker room, his mind racing. He’s about to strip off his gear when he hears footsteps approaching, quick and determined. Before he can even turn around, the locker room door flies open, and there you are, marching straight toward him with a look on your face that he can’t quite read.

Shit. You’re mad.

“Hey, listen,” he starts, his voice low and uncertain as he holds up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I know that might’ve looked bad out there, but I swear—”

You don’t let him finish. Instead, you grab the front of his jersey and pull him down to your level, crashing your lips against his with a force that takes him completely off guard.

His mind goes blank as all he can focus on is the way your mouth moves against his. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before—raw, heated, desperate.

His hands instantly find your waist, gripping tightly as he pulls you flush against him, the heat of your bodies mingling in the small space between you. Your kiss is wild, all tongues and teeth, and when you bite down on his bottom lip, hard enough to make him groan, he realizes this is real.

You’re kissing him.

“Fuck,” he gasps against your mouth, his voice ragged with need. But you don’t give him a chance to catch his breath, your hands threading through his hair as you deepen the kiss, your lips moving with a feverish intensity that makes his head spin.

You break away just long enough to breathe, your lips brushing against his as you whisper, “You’re such a fucking idiot.”

The way you say it, half-growled, half-breathed, sends a shiver down his spine, and he can’t help the sound that escapes him, somewhere between a moan and a groan. His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he fights to keep control, but you aren’t making it easy.

You press yourself even closer, your body flush against his as you kiss him again, harder this time, more demanding. Your tongue sweeps into his mouth, claiming him, and Rafe is more than happy to let you take the lead. He’s never felt anything like this before—this urgency, this hunger that makes him want to lose himself in you completely.

You tug on his hair, tilting his head back to give yourself better access, and Rafe nearly loses it right then and there. He can feel his self-control slipping, can feel the primal need to devour you taking over, but he doesn’t care. All he can think about is how badly he wants you, how desperately he needs to feel more of you.

When you pull back, your lips are swollen and glistening, your breathing just as ragged as his. You stare at him, your eyes dark with lust, and Rafe feels his heart hammering in his chest, each beat echoing with the desire pulsing through him.

“Been waiting for over an hour to do that,” you breathe.

Rafe’s hands roam up your back, tracing the curve of your spine as he leans in, brushing his lips against your ear. When he reaches the curve of your ass, he doesn’t stop. His fingers grip you there, kneading the soft flesh with a pressure that makes you gasp into his mouth, your hips instinctively pressing against his.

“Then do it again,” he murmurs, “Do whatever the hell you want to me.”

His hands are everywhere, sliding up your sides, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts before moving back down to cup your ass again, pulling you even closer against him. You can feel him, hard and ready, pressing against your thigh, and it sends a wave of heat pooling low in your belly. You want him—more than you ever wanted anyone—and the way he’s looking at you tells you he feels the same.

Rafe lets out a low, almost guttural sound as you rock your hips against him, the pressure making him tighten his grip on you, holding you in place as he grounds himself against you. The sensation makes your breath hitch, a needy whimper escaping your lips that only spurs him on. 

“Fucking idiot,” you whisper again, your voice rough with desire as you nip at his bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth before soothing the bite with your tongue. 

His reaction is immediate. He groans, a sound so deep and full of need that it sends a shiver down your spine. His hands flex against you, his fingers digging into your flesh as if he’s trying not to loseg control completely.

 But you can feel it—the way he’s trembling, the way his breath is coming in harsh, uneven pants against your neck. He kisses you again, hard and desperate, his mouth moving against yours with a fervor that matches the wild pounding of your heart

But just when you think you can’t take it any longer, the sound of footsteps echoes outside the door, snapping you both back to reality. You pull back, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, your mind spinning with the intensity of what had just happened. He’s just staring at you, his eyes glazed with desire, his lips swollen and red from your kisses. He looks as wrecked as you feel, and it takes everything in you not to drag him back down for more. 

But you know you shouldn’t. Not here. Not now.

Except there’s no fucking way Rafe is letting you go now. He doesn’t say a word. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and filled with a raw need that makes your breath catch. 

He doesn’t ask; doesn’t need to. He’s done waiting, done pretending he can hold back. 

Without another word, he pulls you toward the locker room, his grip firm and unyielding as he leads you through the maze of benches and lockers. Your heart races as he pushes open the door to the showers, the sound of the water echoing off the tile walls. The room is empty, the air thick with steam, and the second you step inside, he’s pouncing on you. Clothes are gone in the blink of an eye.

He presses you up against the cold tile wall, his body flushes against yours as his lips find yours again, hands running over your wet skin. His mouth moves from your lips to your neck, his tongue tracing a path down to your collarbone as he kisses, licks, and nips at your sensitive skin. You whimper, fingers threading through his hair as he drops to his knees in front of you, his lips trailing down your stomach. 

The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of the hot water and his hot mouth on your skin driving you insane. "If you don’t-" your voice trembles with need as he spreads your thighs apart, “Fuck.” 

He looks up at you, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

His hands grip your hips firmly. Without another word, he buries his face between your legs, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The sudden, intense pleasure makes you cry out, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders as he licks and sucks, his tongue working you over with a skill that leaves you gasping for breath. It’s not fair. 

This man can’t possibly be real. The water splashes against your back, masking the sounds of your moans as he takes his time, driving you closer and closer to the edge with every swirl of his tongue. Your body trembles, your legs barely able to hold you up as he pushes you higher, his hands tightening on your hips as he holds you in place.

 "Oh my god," you moan, your voice breaking as you feel the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up until you are crying out his name, your body shuddering as your orgasm crashes over you, your nails digging into his shoulders as the pleasure rips through you.

Rafe keeps his mouth on you, drawing out your release until you are trembling, your legs shaking as you struggle to catch your breath. 

Truth is, he doesn’t want to stop. He can’t get enough now that he has finally gotten a taste. He stands back up, his hands running up your sides as he kisses you again, the taste of you still on his lips. You can feel him, hard and ready against your stomach, and it only drives you crazier. Of course, this man had to be fucking huge. 

Without breaking the kiss, he spins you around, pressing you against the wall as his hands grip your hips, pulling them back slightly. You brace yourself against the tile, your body arching as you felt the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. 

"Oh Rafe," you groan out his name, your voice low and needy and he growls softly in response, his breath hot against your ear as he slowly pushes inside you, filling you inch by inch until he is buried to the hilt.

Rafe nearly passes out from the sight. Watching himself disappear inside you has to be his favorite sight in the entire world. 

“So fucking pretty.” The feeling of him stretching you, filling you completely, is almost too much to bear, and you let out a long, low moan as he begins to move, setting a slow, deliberate pace that drives you wild. The water cascades over your bodies as he thrusts into you, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucks you with a steady, unrelenting rhythm. 

Each thrust pushes you harder against the wall, the cool tile a pleasing contrast to the heat between you. You can barely think, barely breathe, lost in the sensation of Rafe moving inside you, his cock hitting all the right spots with every thrust. The sound of the water mixed with the wet slap of skin against skin, your moans and gasps echoing off the walls as the pleasure built higher and higher, threatening to consume you.

 "God, you feel so fucking good," He groans, his voice rough with desire as he leans over you, his lips brushing against your ear.

 "Faster," you gasp, your voice pleading as you push back against him, needing more, needing everything. He doesn’t hesitate. His pace quickening, his thrusts coming harder and faster as he drives you both toward the edge. The intensity of it is overwhelming, every nerve in your body on fire as he fucks you with a raw, desperate need that matches your own. Just when you think you couldn’t take any more, you heard footsteps outside the shower, followed by a voice calling out. 

"Cameron? You in here, man?" Rafe freezes, his body tense, his cock still buried deep inside you as he glances toward the door, his breath ragged. 

"Yeah, I’m here," he calls back, trying to keep his voice steady, though you could hear the strain in it. 

"We’re heading downtown to the bar. You coming?"

He looks down at you, all too pleased with himself, "Not tonight," he replies, his voice thick with lust. "Got something else to take care of." 

There’s a pause, then a chuckle from the other side of the door. "Alright, man. Have fun."

 The footsteps retreat, and the moment the door closes, he’s moving again, thrusting into you with a renewed urgency, the near-interruption only heightening the intensity of the moment. You moan loudly, your body quaking as he drives into you with a relentless rhythm, each thrust sending you spiraling closer and closer to another orgasm.

The combination of the heat, the steam, the feel of Rafe fucking you so hard is too much, the almost getting caught. You feel yourself losing it, your entire body tightening as you reach the edge once again.

 "Come for me," He growls, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you are sure there will be bruises tomorrow. His words push you over, and you cry out as your orgasm tears through you, your body convulsing around him as the pleasure crashes over you in waves.

Rafe follows right behind you, his hips slamming into yours one last time as he comes, his body shuddering as he fills you to the brim with a low, guttural groan. 

For a long moment, neither of you move, both of you panting, your bodies still trembling from the intensity of it all. The water continues to pour over you, washing away the evidence of your encounter as you slowly come down from the high. 

Finally, he pulls out, turning you around to face him as he cups your face in his hands, his lips brushing softly against yours in a tender kiss that’s so different to the rough, desperate way he just fucked you.

 "You’re a fucking idiot," you whisper against his lips, a small, breathless laugh escaping you. 

He chuckles softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he looked down at you with a mixture of affection and desire. "Yeah, but I’m your fucking idiot."

He was fighting every fucking player on that ice ring if it meant having you again.

[sureuncertainty]

i put in a request for full time at d*sn*y (and a transfer to a location where i’m not yelling) and if I get this I’m gonna quit the museum bc ya boi needs decent health insurance and titanic has been going so downhill that i just can’t really stand to be there anymore. it was nice while it lasted lol

[woso-dreamzzz]

Ruin

Alexia Putellas x Pre-Teen!Reader

Jenni Hermoso x Pre-Teen!Reader

Summary: Your guardians fight for custody

You had dealt with lawyers before.

You had dealt with case workers before.

Nearly your whole life in the system meant you were familiar with both.

Seeing them never got easier as you sit outside the meeting room, hunched over as you stare at the phone battery that's rapidly depleting.

You'd plugged it in to charge last night but it hadn't.

The wire's been faulty for a while now, one of those chargers that you have to move to the right angle to make sure it works.

You suppose it must have moved in the night.

You can just about hear the low murmur of conversations if you strain your ears but you don't.

You don't want to hear what they're saying.

"Drink? Food?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

You turn away from your case worker, angling your body as far away as you can get without falling off your seat.

She'd been responsible for you for eleven years, right back to when you were a baby and your first set of parents had their rights terminated. You thought last year would be the last you would see of her.

"I'm fine," You insist.

"It's okay not to be."

"I know that. It still doesn't change the fact that I'm fine."

You both know you're lying.

She knows you well enough to not bring it up again, merely offering you a few of the hard boiled sweets from the reception desk.

"They won't decide anything without your input, you know."

"They're adults," You say dismissively," That's all they ever do."

"You're twelve now. Your wishes are taken into account."

"Only if it goes to court. Only in front of a judge. If they sign an agreement here and now, they don't have to talk to me about it."

Your caseworker looks like she wants to say something but a bang of a table has her stopping.

Jenni's voice in the meeting room is raised and Alexia's rises to meet it.

The fractures in the relationship were already there by the time you arrived. Small at first but steadily growing bigger and bigger.

You hadn't known it at the time but you know it now.

You had been adopted to salvage their relationship.

It's what a lot of people did. Have a child in the hope that it would bring the relationship together again.

It had worked, for a short while but the cracks hadn't healed. They'd simply been painted over for a little while. All it had taken was a little rock of the foundations, a little change in the norm.

They always came back and soon Alexia and Jenni were arguing where they thought you couldn't hear them and driving separately to practice.

Now, Jenni was moving to Mexico and the tender hooks they were on were failing.

You were hanging on a cliff and they were too busy arguing to notice your grip slipping, ready to plummet into the abyss below.

"You're not taking my daughter from me!"

You stand, unwilling to hear anymore.

"I'm going to the toilet."

It's a single stall, a door lock that you use as soon as you're inside.

You sit on the toilet lid, willing your shaking hands to stop as you clench them into fists. Your fingernails dig into the soft flesh until you're almost certain you've broken skin.

You hate this.

You hate the lawyers and their cool indifference towards you.

You hate your caseworker and her faux sympathy.

You hate Alexia and Jenni for putting you in this situation in the first place. You hate them for thinking a child would salvage an already broken relationship. You hate that they've made you their daughter. You hate that they've tied themselves into you in a way that you can't get away from.

Your phone dies, the music from your earphones cutting out instantly and you sigh, tugging them out of your ears and wrapping them around your phone.

They're an old pair, still wired and plugged in.

Jenni and Alexia have showered you in presents since the moment the adoption went through. You had a pair of Bluetooth ones but you've never used them, not since the presents stopped coming from them together and started coming separately.

They were always one upping each other.

If Alexia bought you Airpods, Jenni bought you a pair of Beats.

If Alexia bought you a Switch, Jenni bought you an XBox.

You blow out all your air noisily, the shuffling at the door alerting you to the fact that your caseworker is outside.

You flush the toilet to keep up appearances, washing your hands and stubbornly not looking in the mirror.

"They should be finishing up," She tells you and you glower.

"For now."

They're not finished up in the slightest and you slump in your seat.

There's no music to distract you from their raised voices, tension and anger building between them.

"And what about her training?! You'd take her away from all that? To what? Gallivant around in Mexico?!"

That's Alexia now, you'd recognise her anger anywhere.

You imagine she's standing now, palms flat on the desk as she gets as close to Jenni as possible. Her lawyer, a straight laced man in a fancy suit and a disinclination to children, probably sits back in his seat, arms spread in a 'how could you tear Alexia away from her child?' pose at the other lawyer.

"Mexico has pools, Alexia! They know how to swim! She can train there!"

That's Jenni.

She's still as angry as earlier, bubbling and boiling inside of her. She's probably standing up too, finger pointing towards Alexia in a brutal jab. Her lawyer pretends he likes kids, pretends to greet you warmly and act like her actually gives a shit about your feelings.

He doesn't and he doesn't even do a good job of pretending.

He's more condescending than anything, talking to you like you're five and don't understand why your guardians are fighting.

"And you'd have her make new friends? Put her in a new swimming club? Her life is here!"

"No, Alexia, your life is here!"

You've never felt more weightless than you were in the pool, just floating around on your back as the water laps at your skin.

You're the fastest swimmer in the region for your age group. Especially in long distance.

Your coaches say you have the stamina.

You think it's because you want to be in the water for as long as possible.

It comes easy to you, mindless, repetitive.

You like to do things you're good at.

The door swings open, slamming against the wall and you sigh.

The yelling has stopped.

Neither Alexia nor Jenni want to make a scene in public.

The meeting room is a free-for-all but outside they can pretend to be civil. Everyone will pretend they didn't hear them at each other's throats a few moments ago.

You stand, plugging in your earphones even though your phone is dead.

You've found that neither of them want to talk to you if you've got your earphones in.

"Say goodbye to your mother, y/n," Alexia says, already strolling over to wait for you by the door.

Your eyes linger on her before they flick to Jenni.

You shove your hands into your pocket and mutter," Bye."

She's still looking at Alexia too, eyes narrowed in anger before they softens a fraction as she turns to you.

Her hand rests on your shoulder, thumb rubbing ever so slightly.

"I'll see you tomorrow, yeah? You've got that competition."

"Yeah, I do."

"I'll be cheering."

You manage a weak smile.

Alexia and Jenni will be on opposite ends of the room, pretending that the other doesn't exist.

"I love you," Jenni says and you sigh.

"Yeah."

Alexia is waiting by the door, impatiently, foot tapping. When you join her, she starts off again, down the stairs and to the car parked up front.

"Not sitting in the front with me?" She tries to tease as you slip into the seat behind her but you're in no mood," I'll let you choose the music."

You hold up your dead phone, earphones in and her small smile turns into a frown.

"Well, if you're sure..."

"I'm sure."

"So..." Alexia drums her fingers on the steering wheel," That competition tomorrow...You excited?"

You stare out the window. "I guess."

You're in no mood to talk, clearly, so Alexia settles on looking back at you through the rear view mirror periodically.

"Don't worry," She tells you," This will all get sorted out soon."

You wish it hadn't happened in the first place.

You with you had never met them.

[lokisprettygirl]

Close Ties (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Modern AU) (Non canon) (18+)

Chapter 1

Summary: A decade after he disappeared so suddenly from your life, you reunite with the man who you used to address as Uncle..lovingly.

Warning: 18+, dad's best friend trope, canon (we don't know her), familial uncle niece sort of relationship but he's not really her uncle, there will be smut later, significant age gap but reader is in her mid twenties, mention of infidelity, divorce

"Honey you remember your uncle Daemon right?"

Your eyes perked up as you heard your mother's voice.

"Ofcourse, what happened?" You asked her as you turned around to look at her, you were getting ready for your parents 25th anniversary party when your mom thought this would be the right time to mention his name. Ofcourse you remembered him, you'd never forget him.

"Oh nothing, your daddy was able to convince him to come, we are going to see him at the party, isn't that exciting? It's been ages.. hopefully those two will make it up finally" she said cheerfully and for a moment you felt dizzy. You never thought you'd ever hear about him again let alone see him..

"Oh my gosh, is this uncle daemon the same uncle daemon? The hot guy in your old family pictures?" Your best friend Cassandra whispered in your ear so you looked at her, she was a beautiful blond and bit of a slut which you didn't mind, you both had been friends since college even though at times you felt envious of her, it was only natural, she was everything you were not.

"Yuppp…that Daemon" you sighed deeply as you began to feel jittery. You hadn't heard from him, of him or seen him for over a decade, something happened between him and your father, you just didn't know the truth, you didn't know why their friendship had ended so suddenly that not only Daemon had cut ties with your family but also moved to the states with his wife Stella.

"Ohhh he just got divorced so don't mention it" your mum said to you.

Oh well, shit happens right?

After fidgeting in the room you collected yourself and made your way downstairs to join the celebration.

Your eyes immediately met with Daemon as you stepped down the stairs, for a moment there was a look of unfamiliarity in his eyes, you felt as if he was checking you out or maybe that was just wishful thinking on your part. He looked good, so good, as good as you remembered and definitely good for his age, if you didn't know he was almost 43 now you wouldn't have been able to tell really.

He had a maroon jacket on with loose tee underneath, a cross chain on his neck, his hair was a fluffy mop of blonde loose soft curls on his head just like you remembered, his shoes shined so bright you wondered if one could see their face on them and damn you wanted to see your face on them.

You didn't want to act as if you were ignoring him so you made your way to Daemon, he had retreated towards the bar and had his back turned towards you while he sipped on a neat whiskey.

"Uncle Daemon" he turned around his head to look at you and a smile graced his features,

"Y/n?" voice as rugged as you remembered,

"That's me"

He put his glass down and wrapped his one arm around your waist to give you a quick hug. He smelled divine.

"You grew up didn't ya?"

"Well it took ten years but I guess I did" he chuckled as you said that.

As you now stood near him you could see the signs of aging on his face, his skin still looked soft and blemish free but those lines on his forehead had gotten more intense with time, none of it stopped him from looking sexy as fuck though. How was this possible? You were just a kid back then with a stupid crush, a crush that you knew has possibly ended as he had disappeared from your lives then how come you felt so awestruck as you stood so close to him after so long?

"How have you been?" You asked him as you sat down next to him, his mouth curved into a smile

"Fine..how are you?"

"I'm okay..So you're here just for the party?" You asked him so he shrugged in response.

"Not really, I'm joining that anniversary trip thingy unless you want me to leave of course" he joked

You were surprised to hear that, you hadn't heard from him in ten years and now your dad had him join the family trip, what had even transpired between them?

"Mmmm you can come" he chuckled as you said that,

"How old are you now if you don't mind me asking?" He turned to you as he questioned,

"Do you not remember how old I was when you ummm vanished?" he chuckled again but this one was more from nervousness rather than amusement.

"Twelve?" He asked you, making you shake your head in response.

"Fifteen"

"I'm just messing with you, of course I remember"

"Mmmm.. I'm really Sorry about your divorce"

You weren't really sorry though.

The smile on his face faded as you mentioned it but he composed himself almost immediately.

"Good riddance, should have ended it a long fucking time ago..Christ i can swear in front of you now right?" You chuckled as he said that,

"Absofuckinglutely"

"Hey there now!! You're still not allowed to say those bad words missy" you rolled your eyes playfully at the comment "What's going on in your life anyways?"

"Not much uncle, just got my heart broken so I'm gonna spend the night nursing it" he winced as you said that.

"Tch tch who's the unlucky fella "

"Dylan, we were in college together "

"What did he do?"

"Just the good old infidelity you know"

Well it wasn't just that but you weren't ready to dump all your problems on him just yet or ever really.

"Did you love him?" He asked you,

"I liked him enough to be with him"

"Well..here then" he passed you his drink so you took a sip from it.

Bold of him to assume the gesture wouldn't make you giggle like a schoolgirl.

"For the broken ones" he cheered to youz making you smile in response

"You two met already I see" your father approached you two so you stepped down from the stool and hugged him, you hadn't seen him all day. He was a very busy man.

"You do remember him right sweetheart?"

"Of course, how could I ever forget?"

Daemon's brows raised as you said that. You have turned into a fine young woman, he couldn't deny that, perhaps if he was a mere stranger to you he'd have accepted the fact that he found you attractive but he wasn't, he had known you since you were just a kid and he wasn't going to cross that line. However he wasn't entirely sure about your intentions at the moment, the way you looked at him didn't seem so innocent or maybe he was overthinking.

You stepped away from him to not come across as desperate or give yourself away, you really thought you just had a stupid crush on an older man when you were just a teen but seeing him after so long had made you feel something again and you had no idea how to feel about it.

If he was just another man maybe you could have entertained this but he wasn't, he was the man who was more of a uncle to you then your own uncle had ever been and he was almost two decades older than you which almost seemed blasphemous.

"Damnn he's still hot huhh" Cassandra said to you, making you snap out of your thoughts.

"Shut Up he's old enough to be your dad, Cassie" she chuckled as you said that.

"He's just eighteen years older than us..besides what eighteen years olds have babies..ohhh wait your parents did" She joked so you gave her a tight lipped smile.

That's right, your parents were barely adults when they had conceived you, they were your typical high school sweethearts and got carried away one night but both of them loved each other so deeply that they knew they wanted to be with each other no matter what. They got married before your birth, however your father couldn't get his college degree until he had turned twenty five, and that's where he had met Daemon, even though your father was just a tiny bit older than Daemon there was an instant connection between them and that friendship had only bloomed with time.

You were just twelve when you had returned from the boarding school and that's when you had met him officially for the first time. His curly hair and a certain boyish charm made you see him differently, you never had a crush on a boy your age or anyone really before you saw him, maybe you just really liked how old and mature he was than you.

"Relax, it's not like I'm planning to marry him..I just want a one night stand, maybe two, please tell me he's coming with us to Bali" you sighed as she said that. You didn't want your best friend to get involved with him but did you really have a say in it?

"He is"

Your eyes met with Daemon so you looked away, after the party you went into your room and changed into a night dress, as you stepped downstairs in pretense of going into the kitchen to grab a water bottle you saw Daemon and your dad having a drink and smoke in the living room as they caught up with each other, he looked your way as he noticed your presence and gave you a small smile which immediately made you feel giddy again.

He was staying in the guest room so later that night you knocked on his door, you honestly didn't know why you were there but you just wanted to talk to him, as he opened the door he was a bit surprised but he smiled and invited you in,

"Umm I just wanted to ask if you're enjoying your stay"

You questioned him, he had his luggage opened on the bed,

"It's fine i guess.. how come you're still awake?"

"I sleep late"

"Mhmmm well i brought something for you, but for some reason I was still thinking of you as that fifteen year old girl"

He mumbled as he walked towards you to close the distance between and gave you a plushie.

"You thought I'd forever stay fifteen?" a giggle escaped your throat as you grabbed the plushie, ignoring the way his fingers brushed against yours and the spark you felt from the mere touch.

"Yeahh i wasn't expecting you to look like this now"

He crossed his arms as he spoke to you, did he just look at you from head to toe. God you hoped so. Wait no you didn't hope so. You can't do this.

You clutched onto the plushie and gave it a whiff, it smelled like him, that wasn't good, definitely not at all good for your health..

"It's okay I still accept plushies as gifts" you chuckled and it made him smile. There was a moment of silence between you two where you just stared at each other, he tried to not gawk at your bare legs and you tried to deny to yourself that you didn't have a crush on that tall, handsome, alluring man in front of you

"Well I'll see you tomorrow then ..uncle Daemon" you mumbled softly so he nodded.

"See you dearest Pixie"

He remembered. Oh god he remembered such a stupid thing.

The next morning, much to your dismay, Cassandra purposefully exchanged her seats on the flight to sit next to him, he looked even better today as he was in a loose fancy tracksuit and had sunglasses on, everytime you turned your head around to look at them, you saw her whispering something in his ears. Okay so you weren't the only one into older men it seems.

You would have taken your chance too if you were her, after all it's not her dad's best friend that she needed to worry about. For you however he was a forbidden fruit. A very juicy and delicious forbidden fruit.

As you all reached Bali there was a yacht waiting to take the group to the resort your dad had booked for the vacation, to you it seemed a bit frugal even though you had grown up in his riches.

You were the last one to board the yacht and much to your surprise Daemon was waiting there for you like the gentleman he had always been.

"Come princess" he mumbled as he put out his hand, the pet name though was uttered as a joke but it still made you feel flushed.

"Thank you good sir"

"Have you been here before? Bali i mean" He asked you

"Noo...you?" He sighed as you reverted his question.

"Once"

"Mmmm rich people am I right?"

"Says the one whose daddy owns the most luxurious hotels in all of UK"

"Well ..It's not really mine you know..i didn't make it or earned it..I'm barely a nine to five gal" he chuckled as you said that before he turned towards you and raised his glasses up to his head.

"You're his only daughter, when he dies, who do you think will inherit all of this?"

Okay, you had completely forgotten how cheeky he used to be.

"Stahp that's mean" you faked a gasp and it made him smile.

"It's just life Pixie" you nodded as you stared at his features. Gods he was pretty in a way that felt extraterrestrial sometimes.

"It's good to have you back..when you left I thought I'd never get to see you again" his brows raised as you mumbled that.

"Why did you want to see me again?" He enquired as he looked you right in the eyes and you froze, you didn't know what to say in response, your body trembled and his intense gaze made you feel flushed again.

Luckily for you, Cassandra intervened and took him away from you which for once you felt grateful for.

After that humiliating freezing incident you spent all day chilling in your room as you tried to not think of him. In the evening you built up the confidence again and put on a sexy summer dress to go to the beach party. Perhaps that will make him see you differently. You kept having these delusional wishes.

Daemon wasn't a man born yesterday so when your friend started to flirt with him excessively he knew she wanted him, your father approached Daemon as he noticed that as well and made a joke about how he was okay with it as long as it wasn't his own daughter. The joke didn't go well with Daemon considering their history together.

He wasn't just there to reconcile with his estranged best friend, he wanted to move back to London and he needed his help to do so and there was one other reason that he didn't want to think of. No, he hadn't forgotten their history but he came back with an open heart, he wasn't there to seek revenge, he really was keen on accepting your dad's effort for reconciliation.

All of those things were immediately shifted to the back of his mind when he saw you dancing with Cassandra, that was one thing he didn't see coming, not the dancing, you always danced, but the attraction he was starting to feel towards a girl he had been around since she was a kid, whenever he thought about your 12 year old self he felt disgusted with himself but that woman moving so sensually on the dance floor wasn't a child no more and he knew he needed to get a grip on this silly sexual attraction before things would turn messy again.

Besides he was still not over the divorce or his ex wife Stella, as much as liked to pretend he hated her now once he had loved her with all his heart, that's why he had stayed for ten years in that marriage. He stayed until his heart gave out on him..

He heard a click in front of his face and was snapped out of his thoughts, it was you. Ofcourse. Lord he hoped he wasn't staring right at you like a creep.

"Are you alright?" You asked him, your voice was tender, eyes seemed as if they held more than just mere curiosity. Maybe a bit of care.

"Yeahhh just..bored out of my mind, would rather stay home on a couch" You chuckled as he said that.

"Well i prefer that too"

Shouldn't have said that

You knew you shouldn't have said that as soon as you said it.

"That friend of yours..she's single?" He asked you and you felt your stomach drop almost instantly.

"Why? You won't fuck her if she's not?"

Okay maybe you have had a few drinks already. A smirk graced his features but when he spoke next he made sure to keep his voice firm as if he was speaking to a petulant child.

"Do not talk to me like that Pixie, swearing doesn't suit you"

"I'm sorry uncle" you mumbled meekly so he hummed in response before he turned away.

After that you watched him flirt back and forth with Cassandra and it only bothered you more and more with every drink you ingested. She was your best friend but you had never really told her how you actually felt about your sweet uncle, of course you didn't, it was a secret you wanted to take to your grave, so it wasn't not as if she was doing it on purpose, she just met a sexy middle aged man and wanted to jump his bones but what if it escalates? What if he'd fall in love again? Your own thoughts made you cringe viscerally.

You saw your mom and dad dancing arm in arm and it only made you feel even more lonely, you'd have brought Dylan with you if he wasn't such an asshole, that feeling coupled with whatever was going on with Daemon and Cassandra had already begun to make you feel sick.

"I'm going back to my room..have fun..but not too much" you chuckled to appear as if you didn't care at all so Cassandra gave you a look.

"Babe do you need me to come?" She asked you but her eyes were pleading you to say no.

"Noooo have fun..I'm alright i swear"

As you stumbled away from them, Daemon kept his eyes on you until you disappeared then he turned to Cassandra.

"She just got her heart broken..you should go be with her" he said to her so she smiled sweetly

"Awnnn you're really sweet, trust me I know her, when she wants to be alone she just wants to be alone"

He hummed as she said that but he knew you didn't like being alone, definitely not in moments like these.

"I'll be right back darling..don't go anywhere" he winked at her before he leaned into her to kiss her cheek. Then he made his way back to the resort, he knew he shouldn't have followed you, you weren't a kid anymore, you could take care of yourself, until yesterday he didn't even know whether you were alive or not so he shouldn't have cared this much for his once best friend's daughter but he did. For some reason he had always cared about you.

He caught up with you outside the elevator so he stood next to you,

"Are you going back to your room too?" You chuckled nervously after you questioned him. Why did he have to be so nice?

"Noo I'm just making sure you are okay..it's my job as your uhh friend isn't it? Always made sure you were okay"

Friend. He said friend. Not uncle. Friend.

You remembered his wedding day clearly as a day. He had found you crying your eyes out but you were just thirteen, a child, he just thought you had your usual teen troubles so he comforted you and didn't go to the altar until he had you all smiling. He really didn't have to, but he did. It was his wedding day , the best day of his life as he had so proudly announced at the reception so yeah he really didn't have to look for you but he did.

"Yeahhh you did..until you abandoned us all and moved to USA"

He registered the snark in your voice but he ignored it, he didn't really think it still bothered you. As you reached the room you immediately beelined to the bathroom because you could feel it coming.

"Don't follow me please"

You said to him so he smiled and followed you instead, as you hurled your guts out he held your hair back and even in your drunken mess state you felt aroused by the way his other hand was running on your back. Just great you thought, the man you always had a crush on had returned after years and he was witnessing you at your worst already.

Once you were done he helped you get up and made you stand against the sink as he turned the tap on,

"Wash your mouth" he told you so you rolled you eyes but followed his command. He ran a washcloth under the warm water and began to wipe your face gently, you couldn't help but look up, there was a soft expression on his face that you hadn't seen in years, his brows were scrunched and lips pursed as he concentrated on wiping your face to remove the makeup..

"Very thoughtful of you to do this" he smiled as you said that.

"No worries..used to do it for ..never mind"

You couldn't help but wonder how sweet and loving he must have been with his wife, you saw it in his eyes, he loved her, truly, deeply, completely then why weren't they together anymore?

Before your thoughts could spiral or you can do something even worse than just harboring a harmless crush on your dad's best friend he dragged you to the bedroom and made you sit down on the bed,

"Drink this" he shoved a glass of water in your hands before he grabbed the trash can and placed it right next to your bed in case you'd need it in the middle of the night

"Thanks" you mumbled before you laid down on the bed so he hummed in response.

"Don't go anywhere alright, stay in bed and get to sleep.. goodnight" he said to you and he was hoping for a response but he only heard you grumbling. However as he was about to step out he heard your voice again so he turned around to look at you

"Family"

"What?" He asked you so you turned your head towards him,

"I wanted to see you again, wanted you to come back because you always said we were family..then why did you leave me..us like that?"

His eyes teared up too as he heard your voice sounding so sad, he would never tell you why he had to leave or why he couldn't stay here. He couldn't. For your own good he would never tell you the truth.

"Y/n .. I --"

You cut him off before he could say anything. You knew you should have shut your mouth right there, you knew that but you didn't, the state you were in at the moment aided you in making the worst mistake of your life.

"You had always been more than just family to me..more than just an uncle"

Now what the heck did you even mean?

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Note: here we go

If you want to be tagged let me know.

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 6

A/N: I'm sorry this one took so long! I have a hard time writing sometimes, but y'all keep me inspired and I thank you for it. ICYMI, this is the time travel/soulmate AU with Elvis and a fem!reader.

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Special thanks to @ccab for loving this series so much that I can't abandon it. This one's for you, baby.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, AND DRINKING, POSSIBLE ALCOHOLISM, and ANGSTTTTTT

Word count: ~3.5k

There's no way he's leaving you now. Not like this.

******

When your alarm goes off the next morning you roll over and groan, turning it off haphazardly. Elvis has been awake for a while, watching you sleep. He knows today might be rough for you, but he has a question that's burning in his mind and just won't go away. Seeing you last night has him worried about your wellbeing.

"You alright, honey?"

"Mmm. No." You groan and snuggle into his chest. Your hangover has your head pounding and your stomach rolling over. You want nothing more than to sleep in his arms for the next 24 hours, but he seems determined to wake you up.

"You need food. Come on." He tries to get you out of the bed, but you don't move.

"Later. I need sleep."

"Y/n, it's almost noon." You laugh.

"So much for my 10:30 class."

"Come on, honey. We gotta get up."

"Why??" You whine and snuggle under the covers again.

"Because we need to talk." This gets your attention. It doesn't sound like he has a good talk in mind. Has he had enough of you? You should've known this was coming. You've been a mess for almost two years now. It makes sense that he would notice it and want to cut ties as soon as possible. Making a portal will be difficult if he doesn't love you or even like you anymore. You sit up and grimace.

"Talk about what?"

"Let's just go get some food." Somehow, you manage to slink out of bed and get some clothes on. You know you must look terrible, but you don't care. It matches the way you feel, both physically and emotionally. He's not even gone yet and you already miss him.

About twenty minutes later, you find yourself in a booth at a local breakfast place and he waits for you to finish as many fried potatoes as you can stomach before he comes back to his question.

"Y/n, I told you we need to talk about something."

"I know. You're ready to leave and never come back, aren't you?"

"What? No. The exact opposite. I'm worried about you."

"About me? Why?"

"Are you happy?"

"Right now?" You look around the restaurant and consider your current level of happiness.

"No. When I'm not here. Are you... are you okay?" You look down at your hands. So he has picked up on the fact that you're not doing so great. You think for a long time before you answer him. Should you be honest and tell him that you've been miserable every day for almost two years? Or should you act like everything is fine, so he'll go back through the portal to his own life? You look back up into his eyes and know you can't lie.

"No. I'm not." He grabs your hand where it sits on the table and watches as your eyes fill with tears.

"That's what I was afraid of. It's my fault isn't it?" He rubs small circles on the back of your hand.

"No, Elvis it's not you. I just should never have left you alone. I know how much it hurt you. I'll regret it forever." A single tear slides down your cheek.

"Honey, no. You had to go. We didn't know any other way. I understand that. I don't blame you for anything." He stands up and scoots in next to you on your side of the booth as the tears start to stream down your face and your shoulders quake with the intensity of your sadness. You feel his arm wrap around you and he holds you as tightly as he can without hurting you. You cry and cry into his chest and it feels like all the pain from the last two years finally has some release.

He holds you and looks at the ceiling trying not to let his own tears fall. His resolve to never leave you gets stronger and stronger. How could he when he knows how badly you need him?

******

You spend the next week together and slowly you start to feel better. His presence is reassuring and almost healing. Knowing that he's forgiven you does wonders for your depression. Still, every time he ignores a portal, a small part of you worries that he might be missing his last chance. You know he has to go back. He has to become the man the world knows. And as much as you want to keep him here, you know he can't stay forever.

On Friday, one of your friends invites you to a party at his house. Elvis is nervous about you drinking again, but he agrees to come along just to be with you. Before you head over, your friends come over to pre-party like always. The shots of Fireball start to go around again and Elvis throws back two just to try to ease his nerves about how the night will go. He has a bad feeling, for some reason, but the Fireball helps.

By the time you get to the party, you're both pretty relaxed and ready to have a good time. You stay together and mingle with the other party guests. When you decide it's time for a second drink, though he tries to stop you gently.

"Y/n, are you sure? Remember how you felt on Monday?" You stop and look up at him surprised.

"I'm sorry; are you my dad now?" He rolls his eyes as you walk away to get another drink. He follows close behind you.

"No, I'm just sayin' maybe you don't really wanna do this again." He steps in between you and the bar. "You know I love you. I just want what's best for you."

"Ha. Okay. How about this: I'll listen to you when you start listening to me about leaving." The alcohol in your system makes you brazen. You can't ignore it anymore.

"That is not the same at all, honey."

"Except it is. I know what's best for you, you know what's best for me. Now, let me get a drink, please." The thought of sending him through the portal inspires you to drink even more, but you know it has to be done. Maybe if you push him away now, it'll be easier for both of you. He steps out of the way to let you walk up to the bar. To your surprise, he gets himself another two shots of Fireball. This may not end well for either of you. When you get away from the bar, he puts his arm around your waist and pulls you in close. You think back to your earlier plan to push him away. Despite the unbelievable comfort you find in his embrace, you know now is the time.

"You know, you don't always have to stay with me. You can walk around and talk to people. I'm fine." He looks down into your face, shocked.

"Doll, I'm perfectly happy to stay right here. Fore-"

"Don't say it." You interrupt him before he can. This whole situation is breaking your heart and you just need him to get it over with and go. Before either of you can say anything else though, your friend, Zach, that lives at the house calls to him.

"John! What's up, man?" He pats him on the back and shakes his hand. Elvis quickly rearranges his face to hide everything he's feeling as a result of your conversation. Sometimes you forget he's such a talented performer, but watching him change like this brings it all back to you.

They chat for a bit about music, since Zach was present for Elvis's karaoke success and he plays the guitar himself. Somehow the conversation ends with Zach fetching two guitars from his bedroom.

"Hey, yo, cut the music!" Zach hollers to no one in particular. The party music stops and the jam session begins. Luckily, Zach is an Elvis fan and there's a good number of songs they can play together. When Elvis starts to sing, you notice something you haven't before: the other girls. He certainly has their attention as they stand in various states of attraction. Some giggle, some blush, and some simply stand with their mouths slightly open. You look back at him and he's eating it up. Maybe it's the alcohol, but maybe it's just who he is. You shouldn't be surprised. You've read about him and his ways with women. It's different to see it in action when he's supposed to be with you, though. A few of them come close to him and sit down around him and he sings directly to them with a flirty smile. When he winks at your friend Stephanie, you turn away and head to the bar. There's only one guy back there, since everyone else is busy watching the music taking place in the living room.

"What're you drinkin'?"

"I don't care. Give me a shot of anything."

"A girl after my own heart." He smiles and you notice he's actually really cute with his round blue eyes and sandy brown hair fixed in a faux hawk. You take the shot that he hands you and smile in return.

"Thanks. I'm y/n." You reach out to shake his hand and he kisses yours gently.

"I'm Jeff. Pleased to make your acquaintance." He's a little dorky, but you're kind of into it.

"You're not an Elvis fan, I take it?" He asks.

"Ha, no that's not exactly... I just... it's hard to explain."

"No worries. We can talk about something else. What's the best concert you've ever been to?"

Your conversation continues while Elvis plays in the living room. He looks up from the throng of girls that has gathered around him to try to find you, but you're nowhere to be found. He turns back to Zach and hands him the guitar.

"Thanks, that was fun. I've gotta find my girl, though." The party music starts back up and the girls close in on him to try to get him to dance, or more, but he gently brushes them off. He's getting more and more nervous about your whereabouts. When he finds you, you're doing another shot with Jeff. After you finish it, you lean your head on his shoulder and laugh. You've had more than enough alcohol and you're clearly not thinking straight. Elvis stands there in shock for a good thirty seconds before he walks up to you.

"Are you having fun?"

"Oh shit, it's my boyfriend." You giggle and pop your head up.

"Something like that." He wraps his arm around you and pulls you over to him. "Come on, it's time to go."

"Maybe I don't want to leave. Maybe I want to stay here with Jeff." You gesture to the guy at the bar. Elvis's eyes burn with something you haven't seen before. It's a kind of possessive anger and jealousy and you should know not to push him. But you're drunk and sad and want to push him away, so you double down. "Maybe you should take one of your fangirls home."

"Oh shit." Jeff says and laughs out loud. Elvis turns to him and grabs the front of his shirt.

"Give me an excuse, fucker." This sobers you significantly and you step in between them facing Elvis.

"Babe, don't. Okay? I'll go with you." You almost called him Elvis in front of all these people, but you caught it at the last second. Still, the pet name seems to pull him back down to earth and soften him. He lets go of Jeff's shirt and puts his arm around your shoulders.

"Let's get the hell outta here." He guides you to the exit, forgetting that you drove and shouldn't drive home. He digs your keys out of your purse and gets you settled in the front seat. Then, he slides into your seat behind the steering wheel. He knows how to drive a car, obviously, but this is not any kind of car he's familiar with. It takes him a good ten minutes, but he eventually figures out the push-button start and how to adjust your mirrors and seat with the electric controls. While he's doing all of that, all you can do is look out the window and cry quietly. You know what needs to happen tonight. And more importantly, you know what you're sending him back to. Or rather, who you're sending him back to. He'll fall in love a few times and none of them will be with you. And then he'll get married. That won't be you either. You can't live like this anymore. You have to let him go. And the very thought of that damn near breaks you.

"Hon? What's wrong?" He's finally figured out how to drive your car and noticed that you're crying.

"You have to leave. Tonight."

"What the hell? Because of the other girls? Look, I'm sorry about that. But I don't want any of them. I don't want anyone but you." He reaches out and touches your face and it just makes you cry harder.

"No, not because of that."

"Then let's just forget about it. I'm not going anywhere." You ride the rest of the way in silence with his hand in yours, tears still sliding down your face.

Finally, you get back to your house and you've managed to stop crying. He comes around to your side to help you out of the car. You're so exhausted from the events of the evening that he half-carries you to your room.

When you make it inside, you stand in your room just looking at each other. He leans down and kisses your mouth gently. You grab the back of his neck and pull him into a deeper kiss, putting every emotion you're feeling into the movement of your tongue against his. He snakes his arms around your waist and holds you close, pushing your hips into his. You feel his erection growing and swallow the lump in your throat. He pulls back and looks into your eyes.

"You're not too drunk for this?"

"I'm really not. I promise." He sees how clear your eyes are and knows you're telling the truth, so he goes back to kissing you. You know you'll need to have sex with him to do what needs to be done. But the fact that this is probably the last time you will hits you squarely in your chest and settles there.

He pulls your shirt up and over your head and you do the same with his. He presses his chest to yours and puts his hands behind your back to undo your bra. For the first time, he manages to get it off all by himself.

"Ah ha! I got it!" He's so excited that he tosses your bra to the side and lifts you so that your legs are wrapped around his waist. You grab onto him and hold him a little too tightly. He lays you down on the bed, climbing in next to you, and puts his hand on the side of your face.

"Doll, what's wrong? Please tell me." You search for something you can tell him that won't give away your plan.

"I'm just sad again. Ignore me."

"You know I can't do that. Do you not want to do this?"

"No! I want to! I need it. Please." He remembers how you were there for him when he needed you and nods.

"Just tell me if you want me to stop." He runs his hand down your neck to your chest, massaging your breast gently. Then, he keeps going down to your hip, pulling you into him. He kisses down your neck and slides his hand under your pants and down to your center. Teasing your entrance with his finger, he gathers some of the wetness gathered there and begins to massage your clit. You moan softly and your hips buck forward into his hand.

"Does that feel good, baby?"

"God, yes."

"Good. I just wanna make you feel good tonight." You whimper as he pulls his hand out to unbutton your jeans and slide them down your legs and off. He makes his way back up to your center, pressing hot kisses to your legs along the way. When he gets back up to the place where your thighs come together, he presses a kiss to you through your panties. He pulls them off too and pushes his mouth onto you, settling his tongue on your clit. He licks up each side and then begins to move over and around it in the way that only he can.

"Yes! Elvis!" You moan loudly and run your fingers through his hair.

"That's my good girl." He says it quickly and goes back to licking you. You feel the pressure of your orgasm gathering in your center as he laps at you, moving down to slide his tongue into your slit periodically. Finally, he slips two fingers into you and pushes them in and out quickly while he tightens his tongue and drags it over your clit repeatedly.

"Oh God! I'm gonna come!" You whisper breathlessly.

"Do it, baby, come for me. I wanna feel you." Just as he ends his sentence, you feel the burst of your orgasm take off and reverberate across your body.

"Ohhhhhh, fuck, yes." You moan through gritted teeth as you pulse around his fingers. He smiles and kisses your clit one last time before taking his pants off.

The thing that's settled in your chest threatens to come screaming out of you and you feel the tears begin to gather again. As he climbs back up your body, you grab him and pull him into a kiss, hoping you can distract him from the fact that you're almost crying again. You press your forehead to his with your eyes closed and whisper.

"Make love to me, Elvis." He pulls back and looks you in the eye. Something is wrong and he knows it.

"Do you know how much I love you, y/n?"

You nod and lose control of the tears as they run down your cheeks. "You're sure this is what you want?"

"Yes, please. I need to know you love me." He lines his cock up with your entrance and pushes into you slowly. When he fills you fully, he pulls back and slides into you again.

"I love you more than I ever thought was possible." He kisses your cheek and thrusts into you again. "I love you so much that I don't even feel like I'm fully myself without you." Your voice catches in your throat.

"Please don't say that."

"Y/n, I love you with everything that I am." He continues to push into you slowly, picking up speed with each thrust. You grab him and hold him tightly while he moves against you. You wrap your legs around him and try to get as close to him as possible. If you could, you'd melt into him completely and stay with him forever. But you can't and you know that. So instead you hold him and cry silently as he drives into you as gently and lovingly as possible.

"I'm gettin' close, doll." You nod and he kisses the tears on your cheeks. He begins to pump in and out faster before he reaches his climax and moans loudly, shuddering into you. He pulls out of you and rolls over, cradling you against his chest.

When you hear the buzzing sound, you squeeze him tight and then stand up. Your hands are shaking and the tears continue to flow.

"Get up, Elvis. You have to get dressed."

"What? No. I told you-"

"Do you want to go through naked?!" You yell at him and he stands up ready to fight you on this.

"I'm not going! I'm staying here with you forever, y/n! I can't leave you. You're the love of my life."

"No. I'm not. You have to go back to her. You have to get married and be a dad. I can't take those things from you." You toss him his pants and he puts them on without thinking.

"Then I'll marry you. I'll have babies with you. That's what I want anyway!"

"You can't. Elvis, God, I'm so sorry. I'm so so so sorry. You know I will always love you, right?"

"Sorry? Sorry for what?"

"For this." You shove the rest of his uniform into his hands and push on his chest with both hands as hard as you can. You manage to catch him off guard just enough and he stumbles backwards, falling through the portal.

"Nooo!!" You hear him yell as he disappears.

The portal closes with a pop.

You fall to the floor and sob openly.

******

Back in 1960, Elvis falls backwards onto the floor of the train station and scrambles into the bathroom. He manages to get his uniform back on and then slides down the wall, tears streaming down his face.

What will happen to you without him?

Will he ever see you again?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Will there be a next chapter?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @ashtag6887 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley

[legobiwan]

Another story idea:

One of the - and I hesitate to call them "issues" as I think the series is pretty complete on its own - but one of the loose threads from the end of Gravity Falls Season 2 I'd like to tug at is the ease with which Ford finds redemption after his return to his dimension.

On the surface, it seems like the only person he needs to work to reconcile with is his brother, with whom he can barely share a civilized conversation with until after the zodiac is broken and the elder Pines twins are left seemingly helpless in Bill's improvised prison.

And yes, Ford gets the kick in the ass he needs after his brother's memory is erased (at his own hand), as he realizes at that juncture just how much his hubris has cost him (even if he hadn't consciously valued the relationship with his brother before, there have been steady hints throughout the series and books that Ford values Stan in some way, even if he's shit at showing it).

But it's all...rather easy.

McGucket asserts that he's done forgetting and ready to forgive, even though he was probably the biggest victim to Ford's actions and ego throughout the entire series. (There was another post I saw around here about "hurt people hurt people." Bill may have been awful to Ford, but Ford was almost equally as awful to Fiddleford).

Give me a story where McGucket starts to gain back those memories - of his anxiety and panic and near-slavish devotion to a man who barely gave him the time of day. Give me a Fiddleford who won't take Ford back after this all comes back to light, who finally grows a spine and cuts ties with someone who mistreated him for years.

Give me a story where Mabel is outwardly enthusiastic towards Ford, but also afraid. Afraid that she's not enough for him, that she can't be her brother, that Ford will look down on her. Give me Mabel acting out in her most-Mabelest ways to try to both win over Ford and smooth out the relationship between him and Stan (and knowing she's a child coming from an unsettled home life, this hits all the worse).

Give me a story where Dipper realizes the truth of the old quote, "never meet your heroes." Where he finally come to terms with the fact that Ford is just a person - and a very flawed person, at that. A person who nearly sold the world for his ego and worse yet, held his grunkle and sister with little regard, held Dipper's own future with little regard except how it would benefit Ford.

And yes, finally, give me a story where Stan and Ford have the seriously hash things out. Where they ned to come to terms with their trauma from their youth (and the one thing I can't blame Ford for is what happened with the science fair project. Stan shouldn't have been there and he knew better. Stan also knew he was less than second banana to his brother his entire life, and his father made no bones about showing it. Say what you will, but an almost-18-year-old Ford was never going to react well to that situation, nor would he totally understand the consequences of Filbrick kicking Stan out at that age. Stan was also horrifically co-dependent on his brother, something his parents should have helped to sort out way earlier). Stan needs to sort his issues with both his (now-assumedly-dead) parents, as does Ford. Ford needs to come clean as to the who, what, where and why of Oregon. And Stan needs a reason to live for himself, and not for others - especially not his brother, from whom he has an almost desperate need for affection. (And you have to wonder, after 30 years...now that he's gotten Ford back, is there some kind of pit that's opened up in Stan, some raison d'être that's vanished leaving him uncertain as to everything in life, even with Ford vowing change and ships and adventures from his end. That's got to be one hell of a whiplash).

Anyway, what I'm saying is I love Ford but there's a ton he has to reckon with, and worst off, he has to reckon with other people if he truly wants to change. (And oh no, can I think of another two-dimensional being who may be going through the same thing in a time-warped psychiatric institution, hmmm, I wonder...)

[bambi-kinos]

Sorry, long ask.

Do you think that Paul really remembers John? Like his John that he fell in love with because John's been dead for more years than he's been alive, they cut ties in the later twenties then like 10 years Paul had new memories and great success with Wings and a family and he didn't play Beatles songs then. But it was more than 40 years ago and Paul at least at some point has said that he doesn't remember the 60's + he seem quite unsure of John and his true feeling about each other, he quite often said like he asking himself if "we hated each other or if it was true" like he's needed to see "McLennon" videos and pictures of themselves to really see, yes it was real. So I'm asking this because I know Paul is a genius and almost super human but he is human and most people actually don't remembers things that long.. So what do you think? I must say I do hope he does.

How much do we remember the people we love after they've passed?

My grandfather died last year. Peacefully, he was surrounded by people who loved him. My memories of him are of taking care of him in his last days. Visiting him, talking to him, telling him we loved him. He was ready to go and we knew that. He was tired and wanted to go on to the next step. So those are my predominant memories of him. He was very worn out. It wasn't until I witnessed the decline that I realized what it means to be a "shadow of yourself."

He wasn't always like that. I knew him when he could get around on his own, before the damage from the polio came back. I knew him when he taught me chess. I knew him when he made popcorn for me and taught me how to tune a radio. I remember hugging him when I wasn't even up to his hip. But those memories are very faded. When my oldest sister lived at home, he came by our house and he hung up her ceiling fan in her bedroom. I remember walking in and seeing the new fan sitting on the floor but I don't remember him being there. My mom had to confirm that for me.

And I wonder, what other things did I do with my grandfather that I don't remember? What all did we do? Where did we go, what was it like? He took us to the ocean once but I only have photos. I don't remember it happening.

But I know he loved us. He was an excellent grandfather, he was so well suited to the part. He liked being with us, he taught us new things, he took care of us. He loved us, he was so proud of us whenever we did anything.

So if you don't remember someone or you rediscover memories you forgot....that doesn't mean you stop loving them. Memory is fallible but love is just as much an act as it is a feeling. Paul reviewing photos, seeing the remastered video, watching John dance his silly dances. It all came back to him. That John loved him, even if Paul doesn't remember every little thing. Paul can love John without needing to remember every little thing. He's made his entire career a monument to loving John.

Paul's uncertainty regarding John is in part a reaction to what everyone around him has been screaming at him for decades and because of John himself. He's been taunted and blamed and told repeatedly, for decades, that John hated him from the moment he saw him and that he was only useful to John as a business partner. John himself created and drove a great deal of this narrative. Hence his dismay that Paul took him seriously when John told him to stop coming around. "I didn't mean it like that." John had to put this out in a media interview because he was so scared of talking to Paul (because he understood his part in the whole thing) that he couldn't call on the phone and tell Paul that he was sorry. Paul wasn't lucky like me, he didn't have more good memories to overwrite the other good memories.

Paul is old and human memory is fallible. His last interactions with John were terrible. How does he square that with Yoko telling him "no, John really did love you" and interviewers saying "he missed you, it was so obvious." It was obvious to everyone but Paul who only get a hostile angry John who wanted hurt him.

But that's why the videos and photos matter. It will happen to all of us someday. That's why we need to take photos, take videos, everything. There needs be a record of love so we can remember love. That's why Paul released Eye of the Storm, so he can remember the time when John loved him. The stage interviews with Conan are an exercise in watching a man wrapping memories around himself like a blanket.

Paul does remember bits and pieces of the 1960s. He remembers writing "Mr. Kite" with John. He remembers tripping with John. It's the mundane stuff that he misses I bet. Age takes those memories away first, the little things.

Paul may only remember bits and pieces of the John he fell in love with, the John who took care of him and loved him back. But he has the photos. He has the videos. Even if he doesn't remember them exactly, he can look at them and he can know that John loved him once. He's holding on to that as tightly as he can.

And like Paul always says: he can feel John's presence. John is with him in one way or another. That in of itself must be very comforting.

[nonnienonnon00]

Maya and Carina Season 7 potential story line.

For some reason we've never had a scene where Maya has to save Carina. And I just feel that's not ok. We need our wives in a scene like that. Also Stefania needs more screen time. Anyway here's a scene I would love to see tied in with the baby storyline. Anyone know how we can get these potential storylines to the writers lol.

Opening scene

We're at Maya and Carina's apartment. There's shuffling going on in the kitchen. Carina moves around Maya as she tries to ready her wife's coffee for the day. Maya smiles at her wife. Maya has never felt so taken care of before Carina came into her life. She loves every second of it. This nurturing aspect of Carina's personality that will surely fall upon on their kids.

"You know you don't have to make my coffee every morning. I mean, thank you, but you don't have to do it."

Carina pours in the half and half for Maya, turns and cheekily says,

"Bambina, I cannot have you drinking that sad excuse of coffee that you make."

Maya snickers at Carina and grabs her around the waist,

"Ouch! You'd think after all these years you'd be nicer to me."

Carina rests her forearms over Mayas shoulders,

"Well where's the fun in that."

Maya laughs. Her hands slide from her wife's waist to her belly. It had been a few weeks since they did the implantation. Using Andrew's sperm was a worry for Maya but they managed to talk it out thoroughly and came to an understanding. The treatments for Mayas egg retrieval were harsh on her own body but even now knowing that baby DeLuca-Bishop could be potentially developing in Carina, gave Maya all kinds of warm feelings in her body.

"How are you feeling? We're almost at the point of taking a test."

Carina nodded, her eyes glazed over. From all the tests they'd done in the past, this one felt bigger in so many ways.

"I'm nervous. It's a good kind of nervous though if that makes any sense. I'm..."

Her mind felt too full so she just took a deep breath and looked at Maya.

Maya nodded. She knew the pressure must've felt too much but she was going to support her wife no matter what.

"Whatever happens we have each other. We'll have our family one way or another. Trust me."

Maya leaned in, pulling Carina to her body to kiss her with all her might. Her hands moved from Carina's back down further until they grabbed a handful of her wife's ass.

"Hmmm, getting handsy there Bishop."

Maya couldn't help herself,

"OH I'm sorry my hands must've slipped. No idea how they landed there."

Carina laughed and kissed Maya harder, her tongue grazing her lips wanting more. Sadly her phone rang and the moment was cut short. She reached behind Maya to answer, though Maya's hands didn't leave her ass.

"This is Dr DeLuca. Oh hi Stella, yes of course. We're definitely still on for today. I should be there within the hour. Caio."

Carina cut the call and looked at her wife with a sigh,

"I have to go. I'm doing an at home visit for a patient. She's due in a couple weeks."

Maya nodded and then reluctantly let go off her wife's beautiful behind. She rested her hands on her belly one more time,

"OK, maybe when I get back from my shift we can go out get a nice dinner maybe a movie?"

Carina looked down at her wife's hands,

"YES! I'd like that very much. We can make out in the back row of the cinema"

They both laughed then got their bags together to head out for their work day.

They parted with another kiss at the door, walking down to their cars and drove off in different directions.

‐‐--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cut scene to Station 19 crew answering a call of a major fire at an apartment building.

Andy gathered the crew and sectioned them off.

Maya and Jack both tasked with civilian extraction. They entered the building clearing it out floor by floor.

Jack broke down the door to an apartment that didn't look to be evacuated as yet. Upon entering he saw a pregnant woman on the floor of her lounge passed out. The fire was spreading around her into the other rooms.

"Cap we have a pregnant woman passed out here. We need the aid car bringing her down now."

Jack picked her up whilst Maya tried her best to clear the rest of the floor.

They both got out in time with the pregnant woman. She got placed in the triage section with Montgomery and Warren tending to her, she came too, a moment later coughing.

Warren tried to place an O2 mask on her but she pushed it away,

"Did you get her as well? Please tell me you got her..."

Warren looked concerned,

"Mam we need you to calm down and put this mask on. We have to check on you and your baby."

Maya stood over the pregnant woman trying to help. She was concerned that maybe there could've been someone else in that apartment.

The pregnant woman cried out again,

"You have to go check on her. Please! She went into my bedroom to get blankets but the fire was moving so fast. Something fell on her. I think? I'm not sure. You have to go back for her."

Warren tried to placate the woman he could tell that the stress would not be good for the baby,

"Mam was there someone else in your apartment with you?"

The woman held onto Warren's hand,

"Yes, Dr DeLuca. She came over to give me an at home exam. Oh my God. Please you have to go back for her."

In that moment Maya's heart froze. Her whole body froze. The entire team looked at her. She registered the fear in their eyes.

Maya stuttered out,

"Stella?"

"Yes that's my name. Please you have to go help Dr DeLuca."

Maya's body moved without any thought.

No.

No.

This can't be happening.

Not Carina.

Not her wife.

Not her possibly pregnant wife.

She ran towards the building. No thought on her mind but Carina. The windows on one of the floors blew out. Glass landing everywhere.

Jack grabbed her and tried to hold her back.

"Maya the building is collapsing."

She pushed against him, he pulled her back. With all her might she pushed harder until he fell off balance and landed on the ground.

"That's my wife! If you think I'm not going in you're out of your fucking mind."

She ran back into the building grabbing an axe on the floor as she went.

The entrance to the apartment building catching on fire behind her not allowing anyone else to go in after her.

Maya ran up the emergency stairs floor after floor. Nothing but Carina on her mind. Her beautiful kind loving Carina. Her wife. Her whole heart. She gave Carina her heart a long time ago. She ripped it out of her chest and handed it over without a second thought. The pain was unbearable but Maya knew she needed to concentrate to save her wife.

She entered the apartment. The fire was spreading fast. She looked to the only bedroom in the apartment it's doorway closed off by debris and fire. She grabbed the small fire extinguisher in the kitchen and aimed it at the doorway. Hacking through the debris with the axe she entered the room.

Carina lay on the floor passed out. Fire around her. Maya's heart broke in that moment. She looked so small so fragile.

"Carina. Carina."

She knelt down and turned her wife over. A deep gash across her forehead seeped blood onto her beautiful face.

Maya couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her heart broke. She immediately checked Carina's airways. She was breathing thank God. Maya spoke into her comm on her shoulder.

"Andy I have her. I need an aid car stat!"

Maya removed her jacket and placed it over Carina's body. She would do anything to keep her safe even sacrificing her own body in the flames. She placed her mask over Carina's face, then reached under Carina's legs and back, picking her up bridal style. The memory passed through Maya's mind of that moment when they got back together after months apart. She carried her wife over the threshold in all the chivalry she had in her.

"I've got you. I'm gona get you out of here. You're safe with me."

Maya held her wide tight and began making her way out of the building. All the years of exercise and training came in hand for Maya. It wasn't easy carrying Carina but she pushed through. Burning her forearms as she made her way down the stairs and back out of the lobby of the building.

Maya ran with Carina in her arms towards Warren. She knew only he could check Carina out and make sure she's OK.

"Bishop I got her, I got her. Let me take a look."

Maya didn't want to leave her wife's side. Carina was placed on a gurney and then taken into the aid car. She didn't even think twice before jumping in with Carina and Warren. She didn't care that she was about to leave a scene and would probably get a mouthful from Andy. That was the least of her worries.

Warren hooked Carina's almost lifeless body up to the monitors and passed an IV into her arm. Maya looked on in fear. She reached for Carina's hand and kissed it, tears streaming down her face.

"You're gona be ok. You hear me. I'm gona be make sure. I'll protect you, I promise. Just hold on we're almost there."

Maya looked up,

"Ben why isn't she waking up. She's breathing normally right?"

"She hit her head pretty bad. We need to get her to Grey Sloan. They'll take a look. Maya she's going to wake up and be ok."

Maya nodded but the tears continued down her face,

"She might be pregnant. I don't know. We were planning on taking a test soon. She can't leave me, Ben. I won't survive without her."

Ben looked at Maya with sad eyes and reached over to hold Maya's shoulder.

They pulled up at Grey Sloan. Bailey was standing at the ER entrance. Ben ran it down for her as they looked over Carina's body. Maya attempted to walk in with Bailey,

"You can't come with us Bishop. You have to trust us to take care of her."

Maya wanted to protest but she knew she couldn't.

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

Cut to Maya pacing the waiting room. Hoping and praying that she receives word about her wife.

Bailey walked in with a smile on her face. Maya instantly let out a breath.

"She's ok. She's awake and responsive. She getting a CT scan that bang on her head wasn't good at all. But from our exam we can see that She's going to be just fine. You'll be able to take your wife home by tomorrow Bishop. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have my number OB here."

Maya breathed out deeply,

"Thank you, Bailey. Thank you so much. Can I see her?"

Bailey nodded and walked with Maya to Carina's room.

Maya entered the room and immediately went to Carina's side.

"Hey, you're awake. Gosh, babe, you really scared me."

Carina leaned into Maya's hand that caressed her cheek.

"You got me out. You saved me. Bambina."

There was a cry in Carina's voice. Maya's throat felt tight,

"Of course I did. I told you, you're safe with me. I'll always protect you. You hear me. Always. I don't know what I would've done if..."

A slight cry left Maya's throat.

An intern walked in with charts and handed it to Bailey,

"OK so your results look good. CT came back. You have a concussion so you're going to stay the night for observation and there will no excuses thats an order. You also have slight smoke inhalation so you're keeping that O2 on you hear me. But other than that it's safe to say that you 3 can be out of here by tomorrow midday."

Maya smiled at Carina and kissed her fingers again, she registered what Bailey said but something didn't make sense,

"Wait. You 3?"

Carina turned to look at Bailey also confused.

"Yes, Bishop. You both and baby DeLuca-Bishop should be good to go tomorrow."

Bailey said it almost like it was something obvious. Maya turned to Carina and they both smiled so big at each other.

In that moment, that very second that the knowledge passed over them was the immediate moment their family had officially started.

[askthe-r-m-au]

Yall know what time it is...

Back at it again at Krispy Kreme uh I mean Ring-Misstress AU fic

I've been thinking about themmmmmmm

[Ring-Misstress Chapter 4: A "Grand" opening]

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

Pomni walked back to the center of the Circus, cane in hand, and Hat on her head. This was the last night before The Amazing Digital Circus virtual game would be shown to the public in at least a few years! According to Caine, at least. He suggested they work late into the night before anyone could show up. That way, they'd have almost everything ready by the morning. Caine noticed his Co-host walking into the room.

☆Ah, you're back! The little guy's asleep?☆

Pomni twirled the cane in her hand like a baton.

♧Yeah, wasn't much trouble. Easier than I thought it'd be!

Caine chuckled proudly. The tension from the deadline always left when she walked in.

☆See? I knew you'd be great for this job!☆

♧Heh, yeah... hey... Are you sure you wanna do this the whole night??♧

Caine had dazed off until he heard her question.

☆Hm? Oh- well, of course! You don't require sleep, so we'll have plenty of time!☆

♧Well, sure, I don't need to sleep... but... what about you? Voz needs to sleep, don't you?♧

He paused for a second.

☆Well, we don't sleep, we recharge. But it does give of the sensation of sleep and its symptoms. At least, I believe it does...☆

It didn't make much sense to Pomni, but she learned not to question these sorts of things a long time ago.

♧Huh. Wait... where do you- uhm- "sleep" anyway?♧

☆Oh. Well, uh, I usually just find some secluded area, out of bounds...☆

Caine was beginning to feel drousy just talking about it. But, not wanting to leave so soon, he perked himself up.

☆Now is not the time to worry about that though, my dear! We have work to do!!☆

♧Well you do look pretty ti-♧

☆Me? Tired? Nonsense!! Now, let's get back work!☆

The conversation was cut short. They silently continued fixing up the place. But Caine looked like he was getting progressively slower with each glance Pomni took.

♧Are... you sure you don't wanna... leave now?♧

☆And... leave you alone?? Like I would do that!☆

♧What? You don't trust me?? I can do things by myself.♧

☆N-no! It's not that at all, my dear! You are absolutely great at what you do! It's just that I think if I left you to do all this yourself then that... would be terribly... rude... of me...☆

Caine was barely hovering in the air by now.

♧... You wouldn't wanna be in this state tomorrow morning, would you??♧

☆...Ok... just for a few minutes...☆

Caine was still hesitant to leave His friends side. He fought with every last bit of energy in him to stay awake.

☆ before i go... Wh-why don't we discuss some ideas for adventures?? Anything sound good to you??☆

♧Hm... how about... "Count the sheep?"♧

☆Great idea!! Let's test that. One... ...two... ...☆

Caine stopped responding.

He floated idly in place, nearly touching the ground.

♧Welp. That's two times I'm putting someone to bed.♧

Pomni smiled as she walked down the hallway, dragging an unconscious Caine into her room, and walking back out, hat on her head, cane in her hand.

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

[ENTERING "R.E.M." MODE...]

Caine opened his eyes to find himself in a darkly lit monochrome room. His vision was a bit fuzzy. The only things he could make out were a big red door and a misshapen box sitting atop a desk.

He hunched over the desk, looking at the strange box. One side looked different from the rest. It was pitch black.

Then it flashed white. It had a strangely similar look to the void. He leaned in closer. Then, a familiar sphere shaped character appeared in the center. Green strands of 1's and 0's growing around him...

_-°○You did this to yourself.○°-_

Oooookay, maybe he shouldn't be here.

Having no other option, he went through the big red door.

It led him back to the main area of the circus. Finally, a place he firmly recognized! Then he heard the sound of glitches rising from around him.

Maybe he would've been better off in the box room...

He looked up to see everyone had abstracted. Even the abstracts from the cellar somehow got out. Wait... everyone...?

♧C-cai-ªi-N-ne?♧

Caine immediately turned his head.

☆POMNI!☆

Her entire avatar was covered in glitches. She was holding on with her last bit of strength. She barely managed to speak.

♧It-t's... Iṭ'§...♧

He desperately tried to hold her head upright.

☆W-whats wrong, dear? Just tell me. I-I can fix it, I promise!☆

♧I-Tt-§...♧

_-♧ITS ALL YOUR FAULT.♧-_

The glitching code morphed into glowing eyes. Her body contorted until it was completely unrecognizable...

.

.

.

[FULLY CHARGED]

The ringmaster jumped from shock, only to quickly realize that he had been lying down the entire time. Of all the times he's entered a "dream state" as they call it, he had never experienced such a negative one. Nothing has ever made him feel like-

His train of thought immediately stopped. He heard a thumping noise. Actually, he didn't just hear it...

He felt it...

He placed his hand to his chest, presumably where a human heart would be. And sure enough...

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

How was this possible? He couldn't truly be... unless-

[PAPAA!! GETUPGETUPGETUPGETUPGETUP!!]

The door slammed open, and little Voz barged into the room. Shaking the end of the bed violently until Caine finally rose from his sitting position.

☆Alright, okay, I am! Now, what's the r- OH...☆

He looked around, recalling the events from the previous night.

[Mama had sent me to wake you...]

☆Has anyone already-☆

[Yup...]

Oh, how foolish of the ringmaster to be late to his very own show, leaving his bel- CO-HOST, yes, to do everything by herself...

☆Welp, time is really crunching, kiddo! We better hurry back!☆

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

Pomni and the main cast sat around. Along with a few players. All of them took the appearance of mannequins, but each with distinct accessories. One with purple butterfly wings, one with a chicken's beak, a party hat, and a plauge doctor mask.

The player's each had names displayed over their heads, and they showed up whenever they would speak.

Osa: Man, it's been forever since they announced this game!! Can't believe we finally get to play this together!!

Aki: Yeah! This is gonna be fun, huh Zari?

Zari: ...you brought me here against my will.

Plauge: Honestly, I agree. This is stupid...

♧Now, now, everyone! There's no need to be so impatient! I'm... I'm sure the ringmaster will be here very-♧

Caine and Voz appeared center stage with a loud SNAP.

☆Pomni! I'm so, very sorry I'm late. We'll have to talk later. Now who's ready to woo the-!☆

Caine looked up to see only 4 players in front of them.

☆Crowd. ... Well, this is anticlimactic.☆

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

HOLY SMOKES I TOOK A LIL BREAK FROM THIS I KNOW BUT ITS OUT NYEAOW YIPPEEEE-

*Disintegrates into dust*

Also, huge thanks to my buddies Angii and sushi/vintage radio for letting me use our old tadc OCs for this! :>

Uhmm anyways asks r opened and... That's all byeee

[ladynearthelake]

A snippet

I know I said it would only take a few days, but I'm a dummy like that.

Here's a snippet of an arranged marriage Radskier thing I'm working on...

See, the thing is Jaskier always knew this outcome was possible. When he was young, his father never stopped crowing about what an advantageous match he made for his ne’er-do-well son. Problem was, Jaskier tuned the earl out every time he started on about it. Sure, he knew the details. The Redanian spare would need a pretty partner to entertain the court when he came of age. The Earl of Lettenhove had jumped at the opportunity soon as the rumor got around that the prince was on the auction block. Jaskier would be off his hands, and his ties to the throne and his land solidified. Jaskier didn’t care. He had no intention of remaining in Lettenhove, much less following through on the betrothal. Soon as he left for Oxenfurt, Jaskier would have to be dragged back kicking and screaming. Shit of it was, there had been kicking and screaming, just not as Jaskier envisioned.

He should have seen it coming. After all, his father wasn’t going to ignore a contract unfulfilled. He remembered the letters those first few years following Geralt. They were filled with lots of stern language about duty and family and honor and blah blah blah. When they finally stopped, he thought he’d outrun his responsibilities.

Turns out, the Earl hadn’t given up. He was just biding his time.

As he followed Geralt that summer, a letter seemed to appear at every settlement they passed through. Jaskier ignored them all. The messengers were always twitchy. They would stare at Jaskier’s witcher as if waiting to be cut down. Jaskier sent each of them on their way with the unopened letter and a coin for their trouble. He though nothing of it when he parted from Geralt for the winter. He would do what he always did: mold the minds of the best and brightest at the university and see just how many flat surfaces he could bespoil with his partners.

He had barely even settled in when several very large men in Lettenhove livery kicked down his door and suggested very violently that he should leave with them. Jaskier refused, and that was when his father appeared. As he presses his head against the cool stone of the room they’ve locked him in, Jaskier hears his father’s words echoing in his pounding head.

“Now more than ever, the Redanian crown wants to fortify their position. The spymaster worries we can be bought by Nilfgaard and demands that the marriage contract be fulfilled. You can accompany me to Tretogor with the dignity befitting your station, or you can continue to act like a child.”

Jaskier has never been accused of making thing easy for himself. He doesn’t remember much of the ride from Oxenfurt to Tretogor.

He presses tighter to the stone. The cold makes him think of Geralt, safe and so far away until spring.

It’s almost like his prick of a father had been planning this little abduction for years. He’s being ever so smug about it too. When Jaskier awoke in a strange bed in a locked room, he found a note in neat, familiar, infuriating script.

Duty comes for us all. Be ready by sundown.

~TBC

Think there were more folks on that original post, but here's the people I remember interacting with it lol

@endiness @misterkarchie @nicestmeangirl @underthebluerain @elder-flower @highwarlockofphilly

[autumn-leaves]

it's fanfic writer appreciation week and i wanted to take a minute to appreciate you!! i recently read your vld fic on AO3 and loved it so much. you're a very talented writer with creative ideas and great dialogue. you're also a delightful person to interact with in any capacity!! i think you have a lot to be proud of :)

I am. So genuinely touched by this, thank you 😭 I have been a very big fan of your writing for years now, and knowing you have read my writing is insane, and I'm especially grateful because I know you cut ties with that fandom a while ago.

Thank you so much for this kind message, I read it and blacked out and wrote a camp camp fic for you 😭😭 hope you enjoy, and thank you for being you!!! <3

(written all in one go and barely checked for errors, so my apologies for any mistakes)

When Gwen woke up that morning, she knew it was going to be a terrible day. She didn’t know the how or the why yet, but deep down something was telling her to roll over, close her eyes, and block out the world until the sun rose again tomorrow. 

Unfortunately for Gwen, that wasn’t how being responsible for a group of kids worked, no matter whether the kids in question were absolute shits or not. So, instead, she took a deep breath, forced her eyes back open and sat up looking over to David’s side of the shared councillors cabin. Normally Gwen would wake to the sight of David preparing supplies for the day’s craft activities, or planning the hiking route, or even doing some kind of strengthening yoga routine, which took entirely too much energy and willpower for five thirty in the morning, in Gwen’s opinion. 

Instead, what greeted her today was a vaguely David-shaped lump under the covers. Gwen blinked once, then twice, but the view didn’t change. In all the time Gwen has worked alongside David, she cannot recall a single instance in which she has woken up before him, and it does nothing to calm her nerves. 

Shrugging it off, she hauls herself out of bed and into the shower, and by the time she emerges David is up and ready to go, smiling and chattering away as usual, and part of her relaxes. Maybe today won't be so bad.

Typically, the day gets worse. 

That, in and of itself, isn’t strictly unusual for Camp Campbell, but it’s a different brand of WrongTM today, one that Gwen does not care for. That morning in the mess hall, a food fight had broken out, getting so bloodthirsty that multiple windows ended up smashed, shattering completely. Honestly? Gwen couldn’t care less; that was a problem for the Quartermaster. Their first activity of the day had been archery, which had ended in a flaming arrow planting itself firmly into their trash bin and starting a foul-smelling, impossible-to-put-out, literal dumpster fire. That’s whatever, if Gwen is honest. Lunch had passed in a blur, in which David and Gwen had had to ban knives, leaving the kids to poke aimlessly at their food with plastic sporks, but she thought maybe the little shits deserved it. 

Collapsing back onto her spot on the councillors table with David, she watched them wolf down their ice cream, clearly none of them willing to risk the rare treat by acting out, then looked sideways at David, pleasantly surprised to see him looking almost as exhausted as she felt. Don’t get her wrong; it’s not that she wanted her friend to be miserable, it’s just that he had this incredibly frustrating ability to remain the happiest, most chipper person on the planet in the face of the most infuriating circumstances. Sometimes it made Gwen feel insane, like she was the only one aware of what was going on in the camp.

Some of that relief faded, however, when David rested his forehead in his hands and mumbled, “How is it only lunchtime?”, with a weariness she’d never heard from him in her life. 

Frowning, she tilted her head down, trying to catch his attention. “What’s up with you?” She asks, and she doesn’t think it sounds angry until David is whipping his head up, plastering a - somewhat unnerving - smile across his face.

“Sorry, Gwen! Nothing’s wrong, today just seems to be a bit of a slower day today, is all. At least that means more time for fun activities, though!”.

She realises it’s meant to be reassuring, but honestly it’s downright freaky watching David put a personality on like a coat. 

“Are you okay, David?” She presses, voice slightly softer than before. 

“Of course I am, Gwen! Why wouldn’t I be? The sun is out, the birds are singing and I’m here at Camp-”

“Don’t bullshit me, David.” She says, her gut feeling from the morning coming back full force. “What is it? Was it Campbell? Are we getting more budget cuts? Or was there a complaint? Are we getting a surprise inspection, or - oh god, is our pay going down?” She asks, thoughts going a mile a minute about what could possibly have made David look so defeated a few moments ago.

“What? Gwen - no, it’s nothing like that.” David replies, a little startled. He sighs, and then he looks tired again. He’s still smiling, but it's smaller and a little awkward, and it’s so not David but somehow more David than Gwen thinks she’s ever seen him. “I’m just a little under the weather, that’s all.” He finishes, quietly, like he’s scared the campers might hear. Which - fair, Gwen can only imagine what those little assholes would do if they sensed weakness.

“Under the weather how?” She asks, sceptical.

He frowns, but seems to weigh his options and decide being honest is a better choice than keeping quiet, because he answers all the same. “A headache. And maybe a minor fever, some dizziness. I’m mostly just tired, so it’s nothing a little rest won’t fix. I’ll be right as rain tomorrow, don’t worry.”

Looking at him now, like, really looking, Gwen realises he’s pale and a little shaky; there’s bags under his eyes and a slight flush on the heights of his cheeks like he’s been rushing around, which he has, but she suspects it has more to do with fever than it does managing the kids. Part of her wants to reach out and press her hand to her forehead, but she gets the feeling David wouldn’t appreciate that, especially not in front of all of the children because god forbid he shows them that sometimes he isn’t having the time of his life, enjoying camp every step of the way. God forbid they see him as human, and not a punching bag only there for entertainment. 

“You know, I can handle the kids for an hour or two if you want a power nap? I’ll get the coloured paper and markers out and make up some bullshit about writing a letter to their future selves or something.” She offers, and the fact that David actually considers it for a second proves to her that he’s feeling worse than he lets on. Ultimately, though, he shakes his head. 

“No, it wouldn’t be fair to leave you to run camp by yourself. Besides, we’re supposed to be doing plant identification today, and I can’t deprive the kids of a valuable skill like that just because I’m a little poorly. I’ll be fine.” He says, decisively, like he’s trying to convince himself as much as Gwen.

Before she can argue the point further, the sound of the kids talking escalates to a volume that’s too much to tolerate as they get restless, dessert finished and their boredom rising. Standing, she shouts over the racket, “Everyone look at me! Shut up for a minute, would you?”. It takes a moment, but they do quieten and look in her direction, so she takes the win. “In a moment we’re going to head outside for our afternoon activity, okay, so everyone go and put your plates on the hatch for Quartermaster and then line up at the door.”

Predictably, there is no neat, single-file line like Gwen had asked, and instead a crowd of pushing and shoving by the mess hall doors. Shaking her head, Gwen lets them out, allowing David to start explaining what they’d be doing. In all honesty, Gwen tunes this part out, knowing vaguely that each group would have a plant identification book and a list of plants to find. Instead, she uses this time to study David, who’s energy seems to be waning quicker now that he’s on his feet. Max is giving David some kind of shit, and his plastered-on smile is faltering ever so slightly, the longer Max refuses to stop. 

Sighing, she shoots Max a look and he backs off, for now, but he doesn’t seem very deterred. David finishes up his explanation and sends the kids off in groups of four, instructing them not to go out of his and Gwen’s sight. A few moments pass in silence as they observe the kids, enjoying the peace for the first time that day. Around them, the kids seem to be genuinely enjoying themselves - the task gives them just enough freedom that they’re satisfied, goofing off as they look at plants half-heartedly and enjoy the sun, with the added bonus of letting Gwen and David take a backseat for a little while. 

The kids have quite a long time to find all of the plants on the list; they know their campers well enough to know that the work-to-messing-around ratio will not be equal, so Gwen takes a seat on one of the nearby picnic benches. She expects David to follow her lead and sit down too, and she hopes he does because he wasn’t looking too hot during his instructions earlier, but he remains standing. The feeling in her gut grows stronger, but she forces it down. She’s getting worked up over nothing, David said it himself, he’s just a little under the weather. David is a grown man; if he feels like he needs to sit down, he’ll sit down. 

Another fifteen minutes pass and the feeling only grows. She glances at her co-councillor again, but she can’t see his face from the angle of the bench. Before she can think better of it she’s standing and walking over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder with the intention of turning him towards her. However, the moment her hand touches his shoulder, her stomach drops. He’s so warm she can feel it through his shirt and, although they are standing in the warmth of the sun, that’s all they’re doing, there’s no reason he should be that warm. It’s a suffocating, dry kind of warmth too, one that makes her throat tighten and she steps round him, blocking the camper’s view if they were to look over. 

His eyes are cloudy and slightly unfocused, and he’s paler than he has been all day, swaying just slightly where he stands. His breathing is slightly wonky, like he can’t quite figure out a comfortable pattern and it takes him a while to track his gaze over to meet hers, and he shakes his head minutely, almost imperceptibly. Abruptly, she makes a decision. 

Whirling around to face the section of clearing that the campers are exploring, she raises her voice loud enough for all of them to hear. “Okay, David and I need to head inside to take care of some paperwork, so Quartermaster is going to take over for a little while. Do not give him any shit or I swear to god there will be hell to pay, understood?” She asks, waiting for nods before she’s satisfied. She turns back to face David, unsure if moving is a good idea right now given how pale he is. “Can you make it to our cabin?” She asks, quietly.

Something in David seems to click, and he tries to gather himself, swallowing hard. “Sorry, Gwen, I’m fine. There’s no need to worry, or- or bother the Quartermaster, I’m-”

“David I swear do not even try it. You look like you’re about the pass out.” She hisses, reaching her limit. “Now can you make it to our cabin or not?”

Chastised, David looks down, but nods anyway. “Yeah, I can.”

“Okay,” Gwen takes a deep breath, nodding as well. “I need you to stay here with the kids while I go and grab Quartermaster, can you do that?”

David nods again, but doesn’t protest when she leads him to the bench and sits him down. “Do not move.” She says sternly, then turns on her heel and rushes back to the mess hall, grabbing Quartermaster and dragging him out to the clearing, explaining on the way. He agrees in the weird, creepy way of his, and she has no doubt the campers will end up part of some crazy wilderness ritual, but she trusts him with the campers safety and that's enough for now. 

As they arrive at the activity spot, it’s just in time to see Max sauntering over to David, a glint in his eye that she doesn’t like. “Max!” She calls, intercepting him only a few feet away from the bench. “What do you need?”

Max regards her curiously, and she feels vaguely like prey. “What I need is to talk to David.” He says, and Gwen knows deep down that he has realised what’s going on.

She has two options now: lie and bullshit her way out of this, or tell the truth and hope Max doesn’t abuse the knowledge. 

Placing her hands on both of Max’s shoulders, she drops down to one knee, putting her at his level. “Look, Max, you and I both know why you can’t do that.” Max’s face lights up at the confirmation, and he opens his mouth to say something, but Gwen continues on, barrelling over him. “Max, listen to me, I need to get David inside, okay, I think this could be serious. I need to get him inside, and check his fever and maybe even take him to a hospital,” She says, looking into his eyes to try and drive her point home. She really isn’t sure if it will warrant a hospital trip, or even come close, but she thinks maybe that’s what Max needs to hear to back off a bit. “If I check him over, and he’s okay, I promise you that tomorrow you can have your fun with him, but you have to let me make sure he’s good first, okay?”

Max is silent for a second, eyes darting from Gwen to where David is slumped over, face in his hands now that Quartermaster is here and someone is keeping an eye on the campers. There is a solid ten seconds where Gwen thinks she’s made the wrong choice, that Max is going to grin and jump on the opportunity to trash the camp and make today even worse for David, but then he deflates and nods. “Fine. I’ll keep these assholes in check. But as soon as he’s feeling better there will be no mercy. So watch out.” He says, but Gwen has known Max long enough to know he’s concerned. Another beat of silence passes and then Max follows up quietly, “Do you…need help getting him inside?”.

A spark of surprise hits Gwen’s chest, alongside a feeling she thinks might be pride. She ruffles Max’s hair and he scowls, swatting at her hands before shoving his own hands back into his sweater pockets. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got him handled. You focus on finding those plants, okay?” She smiles at him, and Max pulls a face in return. 

“Ew, gross. I wasn’t worried.” He insists, and Gwen doesn’t argue it, just lets him walk back to his group.

Gwen forces herself to take some more deep breaths before she turns around, trying not to let her heart beat too fast when she finds David, arms braced on his knees and his head in his hands, eyes closed and breathing shakily. 

“David?” She asks softly, touching his shoulder. 

He lifts his head, blinking blearily at her, squinting in the sunlight. He doesn’t say anything.

“You ready to get inside?”

He nods shakily, standing up and immediately stumbling, but Gwen catches him quickly enough. Luckily, Quartermaster seems to have distracted the kids with some kind of dramatic retelling of a battle he had with some squirrels, and Gwen can’t quite tell if it’s made up or not, but it doesn’t matter because it means they don’t have an audience right now. (Except Max, and Gwen can feel his worried eyes tracking them, but she’ll have to deal with that later, because right now David needs to be inside and lying down, out of the heat of the sun and away from the stress of the children.)

She loops his arm around her shoulders, hooking her own around his waist and they begin to slowly walk - or stumble, in David’s case - back to the councillor’s cabin. What should have been a two minute journey becomes a five minute one, and the whole way Gwen can only think about how it got so bad so quickly. David is silent for the entirety of it, eyes closed and trusting Gwen to keep them on track. They’re barely ten feet from the door to the cabin when David finally speaks.

“Gwen, I think I’m going to pass out.” He chokes out, and she turns to find his face so pale he’s practically grey. 

“Shit!” She hisses, and she effectively drags him the rest of the way shoving the doors open, desperate to get him to his bed but he’s dropping like a stone the moment they’re inside, and it’s all she can do to stop his head from slamming down. His knees connect roughly with the wooden floors and she winces, knowing it’ll probably bruise, but there’s bigger things to worry about at that moment. 

Carefully, she lowers him to the ground and props his feet up on a nearby trunk, racking her brain desperately trying to recall her first aid training. She settles on checking his airways and, once satisfied, moves to the bathroom to grab their thermometer. It’s clear enough that he has a fever, but she needs to know what she’s dealing with and now is as good a time as any to check. 

The thermometer is an old thing, scuffed and peeling but it works and so she gently pushes it into his ear, waiting for it to beep. 103.1ºF. She sucks in a breath through her teeth. Not good.

Wasting no time, she gathers a washcloth and wets it with cold water, filling a glass at the same time. There’s a standing fan in the corner of their cabin which she manoeuvres to point at David and turns onto the lowest setting, trying not to shock his body too much, then places the washcloth on his forehead. 

Slowly, David stirs, eyes blinking open, cloudy and confused but he’s awake and a huge weight lifts off of her shoulders.

“David?”

“...Gwen? What- why am I on the floor?”

A flash of irritation hits her. “Because you’re an asshole who can’t wait two seconds to lay down in his bed and insists instead on passing out on the floor next to it.” She scowls, but the irritation is ebbing just quickly as it peaked, being replaced by concern.

“I passed out?” He asked, voice still slightly muddy from sleep.

“Yeah,” She sighs. “You did. And your fever is really high, as well. You scared me.” She admits, quietly.

David’s face crumples with guilt, and he tries to sit up but Gwen firmly pushes him back down. “Gwen, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“I know you didn’t David,” Gwen placates. “It’s not your fault, it's just a sucky situation. You should have said something sooner, though, David. You could have taken a break, or even taken the rest of the day off and we could’ve avoided all of this. I’d rather have to handle those kids by myself any day of the week than for you to get hurt.”

David nods, wincing. “I know. You’re right, I should have said something I just - I just have some things to work on.” He replies, quiet and raw. “But that shouldn’t affect you, I’m sorry.”

They look at each other for a moment longer before Gwen smiles, softly. “Hey, what are CBFLs for?” She asks, nudging his shoulder, and David smiles back, touched. “And besides,” she continues. “You deal with enough of my shit, only fair I deal with some of yours. Now, think you can handle getting up and into bed? You need proper rest and I’m not letting you do it on the floor.”

“Yeah, I’m actually feeling a bit better now.” David says.

Gwen snorts, holding out a hand to help him up. “Tell me that again when you’re upright.”

As expected, David immediately pales again the moment he’s stood, but he smiles shakily and manages to get to his bed fine, so Gwen doesn’t worry too much. Once he’s sitting with his back against his pillows, she hands him the glass of water and grabs some pills from her own bedside table. Dutifully, he downs them, and then lays down, damp cloth back on his forehead. It’s mid-afternoon and still light out, but Gwen just draws the curtains and turns off the light, leaving the bathroom light on with the door cracked to allow her to see without aggravating David’s head too much. 

Gwen pulls her armchair over to be near David’s bed, turning on Bob Ross with the volume almost muted, just loud enough for the man’s soothing voice to reach them. Beside her, David’s eyes are closed and his eyebrows pinched, but there’s a small smile on his face and he looks comfortable enough. For the first time all day, the feeling in her gut subsides, appeased, and she lets herself relax as well.

Two hours later, Gwen jolts awake, eyes flying around the room before settling on David, still fast asleep where she’d left him. Bob Ross is still playing idly, and she grabs the remote to turn it off. As quietly as she can, Gwen finds the thermometer and takes David’s temperature again, breathing out slowly when it reads 100.5ºF. Still a fever, but lower. Despite herself, she runs her hand through David’s bedhead of red hair, shaking her head and then sitting back down.

She has just settled back in her chair when there’s a quiet knock at the door. Opening it reveals Max, shuffling awkwardly. “He’s okay.” Gwen smiles softly, deciding to cut the kid some slack, knowing Max isn’t going to outright ask about David.

“Pshh, I don’t care. I just came to tell you Quartermaster is doing a shit job. He taught us how to fight a deer and now he’s making us wash the outside of our cabins.” He complains, but Gwen can see a bit of relief on his face. 

“Hm, not a bad idea. Maybe I need to get him to plan a couple of our activities next week. The cabin thing, not the deer thing.” She clarifies, seeing Max’s face. “Maybe tomorrow you can complain to David yourself.”

Max nods, satisfied with the knowledge that David isn’t too ill, and Gwen knew that was what he’d been waiting to hear. “Yeah, I will. Uh, but I should get back before Quartermaster realises I’m gone. He’s way less of a pushover than you and David.” 

Gwen rolls her eyes, but waves him off. “See you tomorrow, Max.”

“Night, Gwen.” 

She closes the door, still smiling softly. 

Sometimes, the kids were okay.

[levis-nut-dump]

~Broken~

TW: mentions death, suicide, and depression

-The guilt of the explosion of Armin's colossal titan is consuming him

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You and Armin Arlert have been together for some years now. At this point in your relationship, you know all his fears, hopes, dreams, and regrets; So the fact that something was so clearly bothering him and you had no idea what consumed you whole. Armin's always been the sweetest. You've been with a lot of trash, so he was like a sweet release, and you wanted to be that for him. You had no idea what was weighing on him, but you knew he didn't deserve to carry it alone.

You walked into the living room of your shared cabin in the woods. "Hey, Armin. I was thinking maybe we can go into town and get something to eat?" You suggested. He hasn't been out of the cabin in weeks, not since he got back from Marley to get Eren.

Armin turned around and gently smiled at you. "That's ok. I'm not really in the mood for it." He said.

"Armin, baby, you haven't left in weeks. You need fresh air, your friends, Mikasa." You look down. "Is this about... Sasha?" You pry, trying to finally figure out what's gotten your boyfriend in such a funk.

"Um. Yeah. I am still pretty torn up about that." Armin looked down.

"Armin, if you don't make the time to see your other friends you're just going to regret it. Maybe we can go to the cemetery and bring her flowers on our way out?" You suggest hopefully.

Armin got up and walked up to you. He's a short guy, but compared to you he's pretty tall. He tucked your (H/C) hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead. "(Y/N). Thank you for always trying to take care of me. I'm just not ready to face the world today. I'll tell you what. You run into town and pick up something to make, we'll cook together tonight." He said.

You smile brightly. You always loved to cook with Armin. "Ok!" You agree without hesitation.

You quickly get dressed and you're nearly out the door. "Bring a knife." Armin says from the couch. You grab a knife and once again you're almost out the door. Armin turns to look at you, blue eyes twinkling. "I love you (Y/N)." He said softly.

You smile. "I love you too. I'll be back." With that, you were off.

*Two Hours*

You finally get home with the ingredients to make steak pasta with Armin. It took a little longer because you wanted to visit Sasha's grave to tell her you're thinking of her and to be able to tell Armin how well-decorated her grave is. "Armin honey. I have food a good news!" You shouted.

Silence.

"Armin?" You call out again. After more silence, your mind goes back to before you left.

"I love you (Y/N)"

You drop the bags of groceries and search the cabin. Finally, you get to the bedroom and see a horrifying sight: Armin is hanging from the ceiling fan with an old sheet tied around his neck.

"No!" You scream a blood-curdling scream. You pick up the chair he kicked to the ground and stood on it, trying to cut him down. You cut through the sheet with the knife he told you to bring and Armin fell to the floor. "Armin?" You asked. You put your ear to his mouth and heard no breaths. You lay him flat and gave him CPR.

After a few minutes, you were ready to call it a devastating loss till your partner gasped for air, shooting up. "Armin!" You shout.

"(Y/N)." He said softly, smiling at your beautiful face, brushing the tears off your cheek

"What possessed you to do such a thing?!" You sobbed.

"I killed them all." He said, before falling asleep.

You checked his pulse and when you knew he would live, you laid him gently on your shared bed, took the sheet and knife, and sent for Hange to check him out.

You walk around your cabin, shocked, heart pounding, listening for any signs of his movement telling you he is awake. You pick up the groceries and set them on the counter. Right next to them, you see a tear-soaked letter in neat handwriting. "He wrote me a suicide letter?" You must've run past it.

As you read, you covered your mouth so your cries didn't wake Armin out of his much-needed sleep

(𝓨/𝓝), 𝓟𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓹𝓾𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝔀𝓪𝔂, 𝓘 𝓭𝓲𝓭𝓷'𝓽 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘 𝓭𝓲𝓭. 𝓘 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘 𝓭𝓲𝓭. 𝓢𝓸 𝓶𝓪𝓷𝔂 𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝓮𝓷, 𝔀𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓷, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓷 𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮, 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓷, 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽? 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓼? 𝓛𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓼? 𝓔𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓽𝔂? 𝓘𝓬𝓮𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶? 𝓦𝓱𝓸 𝓭𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓼 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽'𝓼 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓱 𝓹𝓮𝓸𝓹𝓵𝓮'𝓼 𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓼, 𝓬𝓮𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓔𝓻𝓮𝓷… 𝓒𝓮𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝓮. 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓼𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓪𝓼 𝓶𝔂𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓯. 𝓨𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓹𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽, 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓰𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓵𝔂 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓬𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭. 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓼𝓽, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓘'𝓶 𝓫𝓻𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓷. 𝓘'𝓶 𝓪 𝓶𝓾𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓻. 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓪𝓼𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓷 𝓲𝓼 𝓾𝓷𝓯𝓪𝓲𝓻, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓘 𝓪𝓶 𝓷𝓸 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓷 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻. 𝓣𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝔂 𝓸𝓷𝓮, 𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓰𝓾𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝓲𝓼𝓷'𝓽 𝓮𝓷𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓾𝓹 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼 𝓘'𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓷, 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓮𝓸𝓹𝓵𝓮 𝓘 𝓫𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓸𝔂𝓮𝓭, 𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓯𝓪𝓲𝓻 𝓘 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽. 𝓛𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓯𝓾𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝔂 𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱. 𝓛𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮, 𝓐𝓻𝓶𝓲𝓷

You drop to your knees, sobbing into your hands. How could you not notice? How could you leave? What if you weren't back sooner?

[missvelvetsstuff]

Just A Number

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader meets Bucky at a party and the attraction is more than either one of them wants to resist.

Notes: Since most stories are younger readers I felt like having a more mature reader could be a nice change of pace. Especially since I'm creeping up on senior discounts and want to believe Bucky could fall in love with someone like me.

I try to keep my readers description vague but, as always, she's female, tall and this one is obviously 40+

Chapter 5

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff

"Hello James"

Bucky kissed her hand, then pulled back to get a good look at her and felt like his heart stopped or maybe it was racing. His heart was definitely doing something.

He went to speak but his throat was suddenly dry, making him cough.

He cleared his throat "Hi Doll. You look....stunning." He was lost for any more words for a second before he forced some out "I brought these for you." he offered her a bouquet of pink roses gripped in his left hand.

Dawn stepped up when Y/N just stared at him "I'll put these in some water for you." she took the flowers and nudged her sister in the ribs which broke her stare.

Bucky smiled, encouraged that Y/N seemed as distracted by him as he was by her. "Are you ready to go? I'm kinda double parked."

She giggled and Bucky's brain almost stalled again before he laughed along with her "I know, I know, that's so New York."

Dawn smiled as they walked out the front door, secure in the knowledge that her sister was in good hands for the nite.

Bucky was a perfect gentleman, opening doors and taking her coat when they were seated in a secluded booth of the small bistro he brought her to.

They ordered wine and an appetizer to nibble on while they waited for their meals, making small talk about living in the city.

Once they had their food in front of them they both realized this was where the real talking was supposed to start and clammed up.

Bucky broke the ice "Why is the idea of us too complicated?"

Y/N choked on her food when she accidentally gasped while swallowing. She grabbed her wine to help get her food down and took a minute to compose herself.

"James, you are one of the sweetest and kindest men I've ever met and deserve so much happiness after what you've been through but I don't know if I can give you all that."

Bucky shook his head and reached for her hand, touching her gently "Doll, I don't-"

She cut him off "James, I'm too old for you."

Bucky was stunned, that wasn't what he was expecting at all. His jaw dropped and he just stared at her incredulously. He watched her eyes fill with tears before he could form a cogent response.

He shook his head and coughed to cover the laugh that threatened to come out when he realized what she said and how serious she was.

"Y/N, sweetheart. I was born in 1917. I'm over 100 years old. How could you possibly be too old for me?"

Y/N sighed as a tear ran down her face "James, I'm almost 50."

Bucky gave her a funny look "Almost 50? Seriously, what are you 35?"

She glared at him "Don't make fun of me. I'm 47. Premenopausal, which is a hormonal, moody, hot flashy nightmare. I doubt you want to deal with all that. Hell, I don't even want to deal with my mess."

"Sweetheart, you don't know Sam. You couldn't possibly be more annoying than him. Or more difficult than Helmut Zemo."

She huffed at him "Well, my last pregnancy was very difficult and I had to have a c-section so had my tubes tied. I couldn't give you any kids."

Bucky looked at her expectantly thinking there must be more than that. When she didn't continue he sighed "Doll, when did I ever say anything about wanting kids?"

She took a deep breath "You didn't but I know that was the expectation during your time and I know that your chance for that happily ever after was taken from you. You deserve all that."

Bucky shook his head "I never thought about any of that back then. I was busy taking care of Steve and trying to keep us alive through the depression. Then the war started and I honestly didn't think I'd survive."

"What about the ladies man I've heard about? You never thought of settling down with any of them? Having a family?"

She asked softly.

"Nah, it was all just for fun." He rubbed her hand lightly "None of them were half the woman you are. The past is done, this is my time now and I want you. A partner in crime, a travel companion to see the world with, without a war or mission" he lowered his voice "a lover."

She shivered at the way his voice washed over her and tried to keep her head clear "You would have to meet my kids. They're grown and don't live with me anymore but are a bit protective after everything. We usually have dinner together on Sundays."

Bucky smiled "Dinner with your kids isn't a problem."

He paused, unsure if he should push but he wanted everything on the table "So what's everything? The Snap?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a bit more confident since he hadn't run away screaming

"I had a partner, since high school but he didn't believe in marriage. Mike was my first in a lot of ways. I met him when I was 13, we started dating when I was 14 and I was pregnant at 17 when I graduated high school."

She felt her eyes filling up again thinking about him. "I suppose I was lucky, when the snap happened my kids and Dawn were still here with me but I lost Mike. When it was reversed I was so happy and excited to see him again."

She looked down "Mike was an electrician and was working on some new apartments when it happened. When it was reversed he showed up in the same place but the apartment had been finished and rented. The tenant didn't know what was happening, he just saw a strange man in his home and he" she choked up before clearing her throat and softly finishing "He shot and killed him."

Bucky's eyes grew wide "Jesus" he whispered "I'm so sorry you went through that doll."

"It took two weeks before he was identified and the police stopped by to tell me." She dabbed the tears from her eyes. "We were together for over 30 years and I'm not sure I know how to have a relationship after losing him, twice."

Bucky smiled at her "And I've spent my life frozen or fighting and haven't had a real relationship, well ever. We can learn together."

She smiled nervously "I, I don't know. It's a little scary. I didn't even date or anything during the blip, the world was so weird and people were a little nuts."

Bucky nodded "Why don't you let me court you, Doll? We can take it slow and see how it goes. Don't you deserve a chance to be happy again?"

He smirked "Even at your advanced age you still deserve love and happiness."

She giggled and lightly slapped his hand "Cracks about my age won't endear you to me so watch yourself."

"Fine, fine. I'll be nice." He paused with a twinkle in his eyes "Don't want to stress your aged heart out."

She pinched his arm "Just because I'm not a super soldier doesn't mean I won't hurt you."

Bucky laughed "Sorry doll, couldn't help myself. I'll be good now."

"Riiight, you better be good Barnes or I'll make friends with Sam and team up against you." She threatened.

Bucky made an exaggerated gasp and put his left hand over his heart like he was in pain "You wouldn't dare."

Y/N laughed out loud at the shocked face he made. "I suppose it's only fair to give you a chance. It would be too cruel to give you just a taste and then withhold my awesomeness. You had better make it worth my while Sargent Barnes."

Bucky smiled at her, lighting up his face, and she was glad she was sitting because she saw what all those girls he romanced back in his day must have seen and her knees felt weak.

He thought for a moment, contemplating if he should bring up her connection to John Walker before deciding that their pasts are why they were here.

"So, how did you end up a Walker?"

She sighed "When I was growing up, before my parents died they were our next door neighbors in Astoria. I babysat for them, Dawn was like my own little baby doll. Johnny and I were close, I taught him how to swing a bat and catch a ball. I always had so much fun with them.

One night, when I was 12 I was at a sleepover with a friend from school and there was a fire. Both of my parents were killed. I didn't really have any other family so the Walker's took me in."

She shook her head trying to clear the emotions away. "They were good people and things were pretty good until Johnny started puberty. He got in with some douchebag jock guys and they teased him about me. Dared him to ask me out and bullied him when I refused. He kept bugging me until Mike stepped in. Johnny has resented me ever since. I caught him bragging to Lamar that he would get me after I lost Mike but.....no."

Bucky shook his head "I knew he was garbage but, damn."

"Yeah, he wasn't happy when he heard me telling Dawn about running into you. Whined about how you and Sam testified against him." She shrugged "He's been mad at me and talking shit since I turned him down, I'm used to it."

Bucky frowned "You let me know if it gets to be too much. Now that he has the serum he's more dangerous."

When they finished their dinner they shared a cannoli for dessert and finished their bottle of wine. They were relaxed and happy, having aired the big stuff, talking about everything big and small from favorite color or music to stories about both of their childhoods.

They held hands in the car on the way back to her place. When they arrived Bucky double parked to walk her to the front door.

Y/N looked at him shyly "Do you want to come in for a drink?"

Bucky growled softly, pulling her closer to him, his left hand on her lower back, his right caressing her cheek. "More than you know but we both know it won't stop with a drink and we're taking things slow."

He moved his right hand to the back of her neck and pulled her closer, leaning in to kiss her softly.

Y/N sighed into the kiss, her hands combing through his hair, nails gently scratching his scalp and he couldn't help himself from tracing her lips with his tongue until she let him in. Bucky deepened the kiss and groaned softly before he pulled away.

"You're not making this easy, doll."

She giggled "That's not my job sarge."

Bucky smirked "I'll remember that."

"That's the point."

Bucky kissed her again "You busy tomorrow? Lunch?"

She pouted at him "No, I have chores and errands. Plus dinner with the kids. I think I should tell them about you before they meet you." She pulled on his hair making him groan. "Maybe in a few weeks?"

Bucky shrugged "Whenever you're ready is fine with me. I don't want to push you into anything you aren't comfortable with."

He kissed her again "One nite this week?"

She nodded, answering him in a breathy voice "I'll text you when I look at Peppers schedule on Monday and figure out what nite is good."

"You can text me before that. Or call. Whenever."

She giggled "G'nite James."

"G'nite doll." He stood there until she had closed and locked the door behind her.

When Y/N made it to her bedroom she changed into an oversized t-shirt before falling into her bed and pulling her phone out of her purse. She sent Bucky a text

'Thank you for tonite, I had a great time XOXO'

Bucky saw the text when he got back to his place 'Me too. See you soon.'

Both of them fell asleep smiling that nite.

@supraveng @cjand10 @440mxs-wife @kandis-mom

Chapter 6

[qqueenofhades]

Hi Hilary. I want you to know how much your writing is brightening a sad Christmas for me. If you're still taking requests I'd love to see Ivan and Fedyor coming back together after being parted for a long time.

Doesn't have to be the 'big' parting, just anything for a significant length of time. I miss the husbands, and I'm rereading all my fave old fics.

It has been almost a month on the road, slogging through the frozen wastes of Tsibeya after an especially ill-advised invasion attempt of eastern Fjerda ended in predictable failure, and Ivan is gaunt, cold, filthy, sporting an especially scruffy beard that he loathes with the fire of a thousand splendid suns, and otherwise more than ready for the comforts of home, in more ways than one. He's normally impervious to whatever discomforts the field can throw at him, but they're more bearable when he's with Fedyor, and they've spent almost all of the last year apart -- Ivan directing the northern theater against the Fjerdans and Fedyor tied up with operations against Shu Han in the south -- and since the tsar's never-ending war is going even more stupidly than usual and they have very little to show for it, Ivan is therefore most displeased at this enforced separation.

As the dispirited caravan creaks and clanks through the gates of Os Alta, Ivan and Kirigan riding side by side at the head of the column and trying to look like this is a triumphal homecoming instead of a humiliating defeat, Ivan turns his head in all directions. The southern campaign broke off several weeks ago at least, according to the spies, and they were also obliged to beat a retreat northward to the capital. Not that this is an outcome to cover themselves in glory either, but at least it means Fedyor might be home.

Ivan swings down from his saddle, issues a few terse replies to the assorted underlings who swan up with assorted idiotic questions (his purpose is to deflect them from Kirigan, but he sorely needs a hench-henchman whose purpose is to deflect idiotic questions from him) and looks around again as if his head is on a pivot, barely listening to anyone or able to offer any explanations or strategic advisements. Fedyor is here, right? The fucking Shu didn't pull some funny trick at the last moment and either delay their return or -- Saints forbid -- even worse? Bad enough to be returning from the imbroglio in Fjerda with nothing to show for it, but if something happened to Fedyor --

Just as Ivan is about to properly spiral off the handle, he senses a familiar warm presence in the alcove nearby, waiting for him to finish his duties and come to meet him, and flatly ignores the First Army lieutenant pressing for a detailed status update. Ivan shoves past him, then breaks into a run, ducking under the eaves. "Fedyor!"

Fedyor grins at him, dark eyes dancing and dimples doing that stupid thing they do that causes Ivan's heart to perform all number of absurd calisthenics. "About time, don't you -- "

Whatever else he's going to say is cut off as Ivan grabs him into a rough, hungry kiss, dragging Fedyor off his feet, whirling him around, and pushing him up against the back wall of the cloisters. He almost doesn't care if anyone sees them (besides, they're all too terrified to ever say a word), and takes his time about kissing Fedyor slow and thoroughly, until he is good and properly ready to stop (or rather, pause for breath). Then he growls, "Yes, I would damn well say it is."

They have had one too many close calls with nearly being caught by Kirigan and/or some other officious underling walking in on them when they didn't bother to get all the way to to their room first, so they do, though it's a terrible strain to keep their hands off each other that long. Then they slam the door, shed their keftas, and get around to reuniting properly. There is that one upside to being separated for so long, Ivan thinks dizzily. It does make the reunion especially sweet.

Afterward, they lie in bed curled up in a tangle of limbs, Fedyor's head resting on Ivan's chest and his fingers lightly stroking and Healing away the worst of Ivan's new crop of scars. He doesn't bother to ask how Ivan got them, but Ivan can sense his consternation in the particular ferocity of his touch. "It's all right," he murmurs. "I'm fine."

"You always say that." Fedyor sighs. "You are, I hope, at least back until spring?"

Ivan shrugs. It's a week until the Winter Fete, when combat operations are technically forbidden by the Faith and when everyone just wants to huddle up by a warm fire and drink hot kvas, but there's no way to say for sure. Still, he doesn't want to spoil their reunion with such talk. So he just rolls them over, puts Fedyor on his back, and takes his time about reminding him that they are here, now, together, alive, real. And that -- as ever, as always -- is all that truly matters.

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Haikiyuy[Oikawa TooruX Reader]Long Distance.

This factor is the most challenging one because so many people fail it, that's why fictional men.

1. He's in a sense of shock, and is a little flabbergasted he was ready to cut the ties at any given moment maybe, in a selfish way of self preservation.

2. It had been three years, he was sure there was a limit to how much you could accept him being an Volleyball addict it was a driving force, an obsession he needed to thrive, win championships, play again and again on the court. But, all you would say to him was,

"Don't forget to eat your meals, drink water, and sleep well." It was something even his mother would say, his coach would repeat and his teammates followed religiously.

3. Then why does he seem to play that on repeat like a broken record it's almost like he could hear your concerned voice in his head.

4. He had plans to go to Argentina in his last months of school, yet, despite so many things with the disbanding of Aoba Johsai his previous team, his decisions like a gentle breeze in the spring he met you.

5. He refused take it seriously at the beginning, this happens all the time, people date, they find problems, you realize it was a mistake, it couldn't work, and you deal with heartbreak because sometimes it doesn't work.

6. But, this morning when he saw your beautiful face at the airport, his doubts seemed to be disappearing like it never was there, your eyes looked like hope itself like a present promising all wonderful things, like a possible bright future, but ofcourse the present had not been opened yet.

7. If he ever thought of breaking up with you, to avoid his fears he wished it could be postponed, yes, he imagined if you both could go to Argentina, then everything would be convenient and his heart wouldn't be aching and longing by now. He could've reached to take your hand in his, promising to never let go.

8. When his arms found your frame against his chest, pressed so warmly, he wanted to keep you in this embrace forever, take you on more dates, enjoy going to the cafes to get milk bread, and Boba tea, see you at the stands cheering for his team, see your excited smile whenever he got you gifts, the three years which he had spent with you were truly like an amazing dream, which he didn't want to wake up from.

9. His carrer seemed far from over, his teammates, his school, and you, everything seemed to fit in one plate.

10. "Y/n, let me just ask this one thing do you think it's going to be better if we b-break up and avoid any problems?" The words came out before he could stop them, what an idiotic move like Iwaizumi said to him so many times he might actually believe them.

11. Your silence for a few moments felt like an eternity for him, you closed your eyes enjoying his arms around you for some more time, before you gathered up the energy to look him in the eyes, "No. I don't believe in breaking up with you. Call me delusional or unrealistic, but somehow you've made me believe... believe in us. But... if you want to break up with me, I won't hold that against you." You replied,

12. Oikawa suddenly chuckled out of the blue, "Then Iwa-Chan will probably hunt me down, and who knows the chances of my survival then."

Oikawa pressed his trembling lips to your forehead and let it stay there for a few seconds, never letting go of your frame. "You really are ready to do the work right Sweetheart, cause afterwards if you say your not I might become to obsessed with you to let you go." He whispered in your ear, "That was hot!" You whispered back.

13. The announcement for Tooru's flight departing was announced and Oikawa simply tightened his arms around you, "Call me every week, and if I'm being an idiot just tell Iwaizumi, and if I ever hurt you just kill me and--"

"Idiot." You mumbled, "Take care of yourself, and don't and I mean don't act like an insane obsessive freak." You warned.

14. Oikawa finally pulled away gazing at your eyes which tried to conceal some fresh tears,Oikawa cupped your cheeks, "Okay now, I don't like seeing you cry because you'll make me cry as well."

15. You laughed making Oikawa smile, "Bye sweetheart."

16. "I love you." He confessed finally after three years, before wishing you farewell.

[clickerflight]

Whump Week: Your blood looks so pretty

@week-of-whump

Masterlist

Part 3

This one is actually a plot point that I've explored a lot in previous whump challenges, and will continue to explore.

Content: Semi-immortal whumpee, creepy whumper, vivisection, permanent scarring, restrained, blood, mention of skinning for just a moment, healing factor training, self mutilation (whumper), acid in wounds, stress position, healing wrong (I guess?

Let me know if I missed anything cause this one's dark

........................................

Matsu stared into the light above the table he was tied to before looking over at the wall, watching the swirls of colors that somewhat blinded him. It was the most interesting thing he'd had to do for the past few hours. He didn't know why he was here, or what the man who brought him to this place wanted from him, but he was trapped here and he couldn't escape. 

He thought back on the man. There had been something very wrong about him. Matsu wanted to say he was of fae descent, but it was hard to say. The man was bent over and knotted, and he almost seemed to be missing parts. He certainly was missing his sanity if the look in his eyes was anything to go by. 

Matsu heard the door open and he lifted his head from the table to see what was going on. The mad man was back, hunched over and grinning. 

"Hello," the man crooned and it sent shivers down Matsu's back. There was something very wrong about this man, but the half mer couldn't quite place what. "Are you ready to get started?"

"About as ready as I was three hours ago," Matsu said mockingly. "What's this all about, old man?"

"Old?" the mad man said, tipping his head. "If you need to call me anything, you can call me Yarrow. Or, no. You are quite special to me so I should have a special name to you. How about Hailey?"

Matsu wrinkled his nose. "What's going on here?"

"Ooooh, yes. I'm a scientist, you see, and I have some interest in you as it pertains to the research I'm currently conducting. How much do you know about healing factors?"

Hailey waited for a reply and Matsu finally gave in. "Some people have it, some don't. It's usually genetic and can often lead to cancer."

"Smart boy," Hailey said, clapping his hands. There was a pop and a cart full of medical grade tools appeared beside the table. Matsu eyed the knives and rib cutters nervously as Hailey said, "Now, sometimes there is someone who comes along with a trainable healing factor. A healing factor that becomes quicker and more powerful with time to the point that they nearly achieve immortality. So, why don't you guess at why you're here."

Matsu snapped his attention back to Hailey, eyes wide. "I don't have a healing factor, what do you mean?"

"Oh, yes you do. It's hard to spot because it's not trained up yet, but I tested some samples and it's true. Since you haven't had to heal all that often it hasn't presented itself as a healing factor yet. Don't worry. We'll be changing that," he said, picking up a syringe and a knife. 

"W-wait, no. There's been a mistake, I-"

The syringe plunged into Matsu's thigh hard enough that he could feel it unloading. He pressed his head to the table, dizzy as whatever was injected made its effects known immediately. Or maybe that was just the shock. 

Hailey got to work cutting open Matsu's clothing with a zeal that could only be seen on a child's face on Christmas morning.

"I'm going to make you perfect," Hailey whispered before neatly skinning Matsu's collar bones. 

...............................................

Matsu panted, blinking hard against the light above. He didn't know how long he'd been here. It felt like years. It had to have been years. Hailey stood over him, watching as muscle tissue mended before his eyes. 

"You've made quite the progress for the short time I’ve had you. I think you have a talent for this," Hailey commented. Matsu heaved a sob, trying not to think about how he could feel the skin that was supposed to be along the front of his torso folded down across his sides. 

Haily jabbed something into his torso, spreading his ribs to reach in and touch something. An entirely foreign sensation wormed through Matsu's body and he squirmed despite the intense pain jolting through him. 

Hailey reached in deeper and Matsu sobbed, feeling him touch the inside of his back. The pain was unbearable. It was like nothing he could describe. The pain along where he had been vivisected was like lines of fire. Pins in the flaps fastened them to the flesh of his arms, making the folded muscles cramp as they were forced to the sides unnaturally. 

He could see the flaps of skin and muscle twitching as he flinched, trying to get away from the invasive touches. 

Hailey continued to stroke Matsu's spine, a strange look on his face, like he was awakening to something. 

He pulled his blood covered hand out of Matsu and looked at his subject's face. He reached out, still in a daze. Matsu flinched, sobbing without restraint as Hailey painted Matsu's face with his own blood. 

"So pretty," he murmured. "So, so pretty. I'm never going to let you die."

......................................

Matsu was on his feet, arms chained above his head. He stared vacantly at the ground, shivering. He'd been through three vivisections, and there wasn't even a mark on his torso to prove it. Hailey had even opened up Matsu's head and everything had already healed back up even though it had taken place only three days ago. Matsu had no idea what the mad scientist would do next. Scoop out his eyeballs? rip off his fingers to see if they grow back? He already did so to his fingernails, and they'd grown back within the hour. 

Matsu ran his thumb over his nails, shivering more. He wished the others would find him soon. The only thing keeping him sane anymore was imagining Kira helping him down, flirting with him the whole time while Anisha and Laurance pounded Hailey into a little pile of goo. 

Matsu closed his eyes. They wouldn't leave him here, right? Even if their emotional bonds failed somehow, he was still their healer. Still their distance fighter. He was still Kira's husband. 

When he heard the door open, his legs gave out from fear and he hung in the chains, shivering uncontrollably. 

The chain's lowered until he could kneel upright, his arms still stretched out far above his head. 

"I wonder how much it would take to scar you," Hailey said, as though it were an intriguing thought. 

"No," Matsu groaned, closing his eyes against the very idea. "Please, mercy. Please. Whatever I did, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Oh, it was nothing you did," Hailey said, pouring something over his blade which sizzled when it hit the ground. "Just what you are."

"Why are you doing this!" Matsu screeched, struggling to get out of the chains, but even if he broke his hands he wouldn't be able to escape them. 

"To make you perfect. You're not the only one, you know. Here. Hold this and I'll show you."

Hailey stabbed the acid-covered knife into Matsu's shoulder, the burning whiting out Matsu's vision. When he could see again, acclimating slightly to the pain, Hailey had turned around and removed his lab coat. There were burns and scars all over his back, including two large ones where wings used to be. 

He looked over his shoulder at Matsu and grinned. "I've been perfecting myself too, you see."

Matsu couldn't even comprehend what that was supposed to mean, but that became the least of his problems as Hailey buttoned on his coat again, pulling the knife out of Matsu. 

The half mer gritted his teeth. He could still feel the acid burning him, but where it had burned itself out he could feel it healing. 

Hailey reapplied the acid and got to work. 

He carved a line from Matsu's left collar bone down to his ribs on the right. And he did it again, and again, and again. Matsu shook, unable to curl in on himself to protect himself. He screamed the first few times, and then his voice gave out, only allowing him hoarse cries, and eventually just a shallow burbling that Hailey seemed to really enjoy. Hailey poured the acid directly into the wound, everything dribbling down Matsu's front and melting his flesh. He shoved something into the wound to keep the skin from closing and, after taking a moment to paint Matsu's face with a mixture of blood and acid, he left, whistling as he went. 

..................................

Matsu didn't remember much after that. What he did know was he had a horrific scar across his chest. 

"Matsu? Matsu? Can you hear me?"

Matsu opened his eyes. He was laying on the floor, his arms bound behind his back. He didn't remember getting there. 

Laurance crouched over him, looking him over. 

"Laur....." Matsu wheezed. His voice was still mostly gone, more from exhaustion than damage. His voice couldn’t be damaged anymore. Laurance pulled Matsu into his lap, cutting away the restraints with a practiced flick of his knife. 

"We've got you, okay. Who did this to you? This place is abandoned."

Matsu blinked hard, raising his hand to his face. He was losing seconds with each blink, too tired to think straight. His hand. His hand felt wrong. He tried to lift his pointer finger, but something moved wrong in his wrist and his ring finger lifted. He stared at it for a moment before moving each finger, trying to figure out why it was wrong. 

"Matsu?"

"He..... he connected my tendons wrong," he whispered. "Why.... why would....when…" 

Laurance held Matsu close as the man broke down into small, raspy, whimpering sobs.

Part 4

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