#luckily I didn’t draw the hands cause if I did I would have just given up with all the erasing

[dont-worry-honey]

I did a complete drawing (finally!!)

I used the outfit from this drawing!!

I’m actually pretty happy with how this came out!

[enwoso]

Lovie wanting a fringe so she cuts one herself one day at training and alessia freaks out and has to get it done professionally to fix it

THE CHOP — alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy masterlist

“mummy, mummy!” you squealed as you ran into the changing room, the girls having just came in from doing their outside training. you not being able to go and watch as it was raining and alessia didn’t want you getting sick.

so you’d been stuck inside but you had made you own fun, making things with paper, cutting paper, sticking paper, drawing and giving yourself a hair cut!

a small yelp came from your mummy as she laid eyes on you, you had given yourself a fringe — well sort of. your hair at the front being a wiggly sharp chopped line across the front of your face. it wasn’t even and it definitely didn’t look nice, even though you thought it looked pretty good.

“lovie? what have you done to your hair” alessia winced as she touched the bits of your hair, thinking maybe you were just pulling a prank on her and it was a wig or clip in extensions. it definitely wasn’t, it was most definitely your hair.

you stood with a big grin, proud of your work you’d done on your hair. “cut it!”

alessia just stared blankly at it, she didn’t have the words to say anything. she was speechless. “woah what happened to you-“ katie laughed as she seen your botched hair at the front.

“she’s given herself a fringe!” alessia smiled sarcastically as she was panicking what on earth was she supposed to do.

“ah nice, looks great!” katie grinned, you still with a big smug smile as you were really proud as the rest of the girls began to file in all with similar looks to their faces as the one your mummy had on her face when she first seen you. a look of shock horror.

“why have you done that lovie?�� your mummy asked as you stood in front of your mummy sensing the fact she maybe wasn’t as happy with your hair dressing skills as you were.

“cause poppy has a fringe, i wanted one too!” you admitted, poppy was your best friend from school. the two of you were attached at the hip, always being the last in the line when it was it was pick up time because your too busy chatting with your best friend.

a small scoff came from alessia as she shook her head in pure disbelief, “well why didn’t you ask, mummy would have took you to the hairdressers!” you just shrugged, that idea hadn’t popped into your head, plus where was the fun in letting someone else do it.

you had plenty of experience, you had cut paper before, card, glitter paper and plenty of your barbie dolls hair. so how hard would it be cutting your own hair.

“what am i supposed to do with this now, do you think it’ll grow back?” alessia rattle out, panic laced her voice as she looked towards her friends for some advice. not knowing what her next move should be, maybe hiding every single pair of scissors that you could potentially get your tiny hands on.

“less it’s hair! not her limbs of course it’s going to grow back!” lotte deadpanned as alessia gave a look of realisation mumbling that what lotte said was a very valid point.

“well at least it’s not as bad as leah’s bangs!” beth joked as a gasp was heard from leah across the changing room.

“ay! mine are very nice thanks meado”

“okay, lord farquaad!”

“why don’t you maybe just take her to the hairdressers?” emily suggested with a shrug of the shoulders as she had watched the whole conversation pan out, wondering how alessia hadn’t already of thought of that or how nobody else had mentioned it yet.

“yes! foxy your a genius!” alessia jumped up as emily sat in disbelief. how had the blonde not thought to take you there.

and take you to the hairdressers is what alessia did, phoning a local hairdresser hoping they’d be able to squeeze you in to fix your botched fringe and luckily they could.

“so am i just fixing up this?” the young women asked as she pointed to your fringe as you sat in the chair with a cloak around you.

“yes, just do what you can” your mummy said sweetly as the young women cutting your hair nodded. spraying water on the fringe as small giggles came from you as the water drops fell onto your face.

your mummy watching intently as the women fixed up your fringe the women actually doing quite a good job at fixing it so it didn’t look as bad.

when the women was finished she looked towards your mummy for her validation, “yes! that looks better already” your mummy smiled as a sigh of relief came from the blonde.

“how long will it take to grow out?” alessia asked out of curiosity as the hairdresser took a look at your hair before finding an answer.

“typically around three to four months, just depends on how fast her hair grows really” the women told alessia as she hummed her top lip inbetween her teeth as she slowly nodded along with the words.

“fabulous.” your mummy whispered through gritted teeth.

alessia paid for you short haircut before receiving some advice on what to do if you alessia wanted your fringe out of your face, by putting it in clips and head bands in your hair.

your mummy lifting you back into your car seat as you sat happily with your new look, you liked your fringe. you didn’t understand why your mummy’s grump about it. you looked cool.

“and lovie, no using scissors when there’s not someone in the room with you- in fact just don’t use scissors” your mummy told you as she buckled you in as a small whine came from you.

“but- but what if i need to cut paper or-“

“tear it, rip it do anything but use the scissors!”

[cptn-m]

One Piece chapter 1119 Review and Analysis

Confronting Wano’s lingering prejudices in the cover story is a pleasant surprise. I wasn’t sure there’d be a way to do it in the near-wordless cover stories, but Oda’s taking it on anyway. This choice helps retroactively justify the slow start to the story because of the contrast it creates with all the people heaping praise and assistance on them in the early installments. I did have, looking at this, a thought about Wano’s culture. Some comments are quick to call out the country’s citizens for not learning from the monster they created in Orochi by blaming blood instead of individual, and I myself was pretty hard on Hiyori on that point back when the arc ended. But we have to remember, the purge of the Kurozumis happened when Orochi was a child, and the man died at 54. So have these kids learned from what happened to Orochi? Hell no, they weren’t around for that. Even Hiyori wouldn’t have seen the events Orochi lashed out over. And yes, there may be older people alive who witnessed the full cause and effect, they might be forgiven for not passing that down fully to their kids considering what’s been happening to them for the past 20 years. You have to solve issues of life and death before people are able to ease their focus toward social problems. Hopefully Wano is now at the point where they can start doing that.

Mars’s “defeat” on the sea below is something I think could have been choreographed more clearly. Like, the concept works, but it’s spread over so many pages that it looks more like Bonney, Sanji and Franky push Luffy into Mars for an extended struggle before he flies away. Given that the final push seems to be Luffy fully inflating, what was the point of what the others were doing? I think this should have been something more like the launch of a cannonball, where the three hit Luffy simultaneously back near the ship and he flies out and hits Mars full force, carrying the launching power of their attacks. You could still fit the back and forth around using Haki into that in roughly the same number of panels, and the motions of it would actually make sense. Turning things that seem like the should be quick hits int physics-defying pushing struggles is nonsense when the anime does it to draw out scenes, and it’s nonsense when Oda does it too.

But luckily, this one kinda awkward clash actually isn’t the finale of the arc just yet. The Sunny’s group is being held up, presumably by Nusjuro, and the other Elders aren’t giving up yet.

I’m worried by Atlas’s moment though. That thought to Lilith about York’s monitoring feels really ominous for her survival chances. Are all the good Vegapunks really going to die together on Egghead? I wonder if Atlas and Lilith will work together to take York out of the World Government’s hands as well, ending them all in a blaze of glory. That would be a sad; they’re fun characters, and I really like Atlas’s design. Normally with Oda you wouldn’t worry about this kind of thing, but with Shakka and Pythagoras gone and Edison implied to be down and out as well, it’s starting to feel more likely.

And don’t think I didn’t notice his lack of fear about hitting the water after. It doesn’t outright confirm anything – we’ve seen a lot of Devil Fruit users make big risky jumps over open sea in the past – but it’s definitely an interesting addition to the evidence.

(Also the concern about the spat-out Cipher Pol agents “dying on impact” is pretty funny considering they’re only here after surviving the even bigger fall from the Labophase basement, but I guess the Marines on the ships wouldn’t know that.)

There’s the mystery of what makes the time right for EMET now, presumably the same thing Roger was “too early” for, but putting toegether the dots, what was it that made it seem like the time could be right 200 years ago. Have there been multiple opportunities to do whatever the One Piece was intended to do, and all we’re seeing is the one that works?

As ready as I am to see Elbaf, I’m also not going to complain about Egghead taking the extra few chapters it needs to totally put a bow on things. A climax for the remaining Vegapunks. The big escape for the Sunny’s group. A final smackdown on Saturn for all he put Kuma and Bonney through and the definitive last word of the broadcast are going to be worth it in the long run. Will the Elders be allowed to achieve their objectives of capturing Punk Records and the Mother Flame, or will Atlas/Lilith/Stussy perform one final, sacrificial act of sabotage and make it so everyone loses?

With break week nigh again, I’m going to drop volume 2 of my rewrite project at some point in the next seven days, either when spoilers would normally hit or when the official release would be on a chapter week.

Reminder that you can read this review and more on my Wordpress.

[banditcoyote]

Wrangled and Tangled

Sasuga stood by the sink washing the last of the dishes from tonights meal. She smiled softly to herself as her tail flicked behind her, happy about the sets of cups and plates she had picked out, feeling domesticated and settled looking over the two sets of dishes her and her lover had shared, something about them in the drying rack felt almost romantic to her. But maybe it was just the way the sunset was showing so pink and purple over the water that was making her feel that way, the cool summer breeze blowing in from the open Lanai. She hummed to herself a little as she dried her hand and reached for the first plate, ready to dry them herself, when the dish cloth was plucked out of her hands swiftly.

“Let me take care of that.” Simon said perching himself onto the counter and starting to dry one of their plates.

“All the left overs put away?” she asked leaning against the counters and bringing her wine to her lips.

“Most of them.” he said with a nod. “Except for the second helping I couldn’t resist, which is now residing in my stomach.”  

She laughed lightly, brushing her hair back behind her ear “Well I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She said with a nod, moving to cozy up to him just a little bit, her eyes full of warmth, and maybe a bit of mischief. “Maybe we can enjoy some other things when you’re done putting those dishes away.” She said with a curl to her lips.

Simon returned the smile and took a moment to lean down to kiss her easily, drawing back with a little hum. “I can think of some things for sure.” He added. “But before we get too distracted.” He placed the clean plate down on the counter and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small ring box and placing it on the counter next to her hand. “Happy Anniversary.”

Sasuga froze at the sight of the small velvet box and her large eyes went wide, slowly looking up into Simon’s face, searching for the meaning.

Simon at once realizing what she might have thought smiled and blushed. “I know we’ve talked about it, but this is just a promise ring.”  Sasuga let go of the breath she was holding with some relief. He picked the box up and opened it. “See?” inside was a thing gold band with a small rose quartz crystal cut into the shape of a heart that side horizontal to the finger. He reached for her left hand and slid it on to her ring finger kissing it into place. “I love you Sasuga, I know that this might not be perfect, but I wanted you to know how much you mean to me.” Sasuga looked to the ring on her finger, feeling tears pull at the corner of her eyes. He hopped down from the counter “Oh no….is it too much? I know we said we weren’t going to do anything, that dinner was enough but-“

She shook her head “Don’t be stupid.” She said choking back her emotions. “I love it. I love you….Thank you.” She looked at the ring again before reaching up to tug on one of his horns pulling him down into a kiss. “Forget the dishes….come on.” She said, her tail already snaking up around his waist to guide him toward their bedroom.

Coyote woke up with a start, staring up into the dark ceiling above him. He contemplated for a moment what that dream could have meant, and his jaw tightened in his face. Did Sasuga sleep with Simon while he was away, it was the only rule he had given. Or maybe that had made the whole thing more enticing for the two of them. Still, why would Sasuga end up with Simon, he had the feeling he was absent, that house not looking familiar to him in the slightest. He closed his eyes again, almost willing it to come back to him, but some of the finer details were already fading from his memory, and all he remembered was the way the pair looked longingly at each other before they kissed. He gave a little growl and pushed himself up quickly to throw on some jeans and a shirt.

“Coyote?” Shishi asked lifting his head from where he was curled up on one of the pillows. “Where are you going?” he asked rubbing one of his eyes sleepily.

“I’m heading back to the Makai” he told Shishi as he pulled his shirt down over his torso.

The imp eyed the view appreciatively before his senses snapped back to him. “Should I be worried?” he asked knowing of Coyote’s sometimes prophetic dreams, and he wondered if he had some type of vision of Sasuga’s fights. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Coyote shook his head. “No. No. It’s nothing like that it’s….” only he wasn’t entirely sure he could begin to really understand it himself. He shook his head “Sasuga’s fine. I just need to see her. I only had that one other show at the end of the week anyway, stay here, I’ll go tell Russell to pack everything up and head on home. You’ll be fine finding a flight right? I mean, stay the night, don’t leave on my account.”

Shishi laughed “Oh it was that kind of dream was it?” he grinned. “Okay, Well, tell her I said hello and get back safely.” He said as he yawned and laid back down to sleep. “I’m sure Kurama and Gatlin will be happy to have me home, if they haven’t torn each other apart yet…”

Coyote slapped on his cowboy hat and grabbed a jacket though he felt his skin burning. “And you remember what we said about this right?” he asked as he headed toward the door.

“My lips are sealed.” Shishi murmured. “Not a word to anyone”

“Especially to Sasuga.” He confirmed hand on the door.

“Especially Sasuga.” Shishi promised “She’d probably be more upset with me than you anyway” and waved him off.

Coyote found himself easily at his ring manager’s trailer, pounding on the door. He felt bad to be waking Russell up like this but he knew he couldn’t just disappear in the middle of the night and leave Shishi to explain for  him, things looked weird enough having him around. Russell answered the door, looking as if he was still blinking back sleep. “Coyote, everything alright?” he asked looking around.

“No…Um no, there was a fire back at the ranch.” He said lying on his feet. Thinking easily of the fire at Thom’s he could use as a cover even if the time line wouldn’t match up. He figured it would never get back to Russell anyways. The manager looked concerned. “It’s nothing big, a small one thank god, no one hurt, but I really should get out there, I know we only have the exhibit at the end of the week so I was just going to head home now. Would that be too much of a pain for ya’ll to handle?”

Russell cleared the sleep from his eyes with his hand “Yeah, yeah I can handle it no problem. Take care, hope it’s as small as you say.” He said and headed back to his bed.

Coyote made one more stop, saying farewell to Poncho in his trailer, before he headed towards the nearest portal in the woods, which was still pretty far, and Coyote had to be careful no one saw him as he slipped into the woods and transformed, having to sprint as fast as he could to reach the portal before daylight. He was glad he had the foresight to try and keep his motorcycle as close to him as possible, as the only other way he could have gotten there was to fly back home and then race to her, and he wasn’t sure he could stand being on a plane the way he was feeling.  All cooped up without being able to run or move, or do anything. It would have been torture, not like the past few weeks hadn’t been. The time away from Sasuga had been harder than he’d like to admit, and he already knew he would never plan on being away from her like this again. All the time away from her he had felt like pulling his skin off. He had helped Thom around her house before he left, and at the rodeo he did more of the manual work than anyone really wanted him to. He ran Poncho as often as he felt he could without causing the poor animal too much strain, and then would run laps as fast as he could as long as he could well into the night. But it was never enough, the women that tried to greet him as soon as he stepped out of the rodeo corral still enticed him to the point he had to nearly run back to his RV. All that hair, perfume, and how the hell where they making such good bras now adays? Though he was sure that some of breasts out there weren’t only held up by a bra but maybe some type of surgery, that didn’t sway him away any. Then the fact that in some of the more populous areas there were actual demon women in the crowds, and those he really had to avoid. He was sure they’d sense something about him, and he was doing his best to be incognito. Luckily his prior years of fooling around with plenty of the women at these things rarely had any of his crew spotting him being social, so now that he was hiding out on his own it went unnoticed. Coyote tried to run himself ragged, exercise, the rodeo, his variety of plants and a few sex toys paired unironically with the body pillow he had snuck on board, none of it had done the exact trick. Which had then led him to call Shishi. It had been a long shot, but it didn’t take much convincing getting him to come out to see him in secret, even if he was a bit miffed at having to mostly stay hidden at the events. Coyote let him have the pass into where the wives or girlfriend’s normally sat, and he posed in his refinery during the events when it fancied him. It had helped tire him out, but he still hadn’t been getting enoug

He thought he could remain out here for the full month, and they had gotten so close, it was almost silly to run now. But after the dream with her and Simon he just couldn’t deny the ache he felt for his mate any longer and he had to find his way back to her. Dawn was just about to break as he reached the portal and he wasted no time heading through it and heading towards where he had hidden his bike. He felt like a dog that had gotten a scent, and he wasn’t going to rest until he got to her. **** Four days later still hours from dawn, Coyote stashed the bike behind the hotel, barely taking care to hide it, and stumbled into the lobby. He had all the faith in the world that Sasuga was still in the tournament, and held the most hope that meant she was still in the hotel room that he had the key stashed for. He limped into the lobby where the clerk paled at the site of him. “Sir….” He said rushing around the desk and towards him. “Do you need a medic?” he asked looking him over.

Coyote didn’t waste the energy to speak to him and only shook his head as he stumbled forward before catching his balance again. He knew what he looked like, but wasn’t stopped as it was clear the clerk in his pristine uniform was afraid to touch him at all.

“Is there someone I can call?” he said walking along side him as Coyote shuffled to the elevator, bracing himself against the lobby wall and causing a smear of blood to press into the wall paper.

Coyote considered it for a moment, but shook his head again. If Sasuga was still in the tournament this late in the game there was a chance she was injured as well, and he wanted her to save her strength for fighting. He’d be okay. He just needed a shower, some stitches, and her.

The clerk did not follow him into the elevator, being the main hotel for the tournament he was surely not the only injured guest they received, and he retreated back to their desk, probably to call for maintenance to clean up whatever other mess Coyote had left behind him. He leaned against the wall as it started it’s ascension toward the upper floors, again leaving a smear of dirt and blood where his shoulder braced himself. A few droplets of blood dripping from somewhere onto the floor. It seemed to take forever for the elevator to reach it’s destination, the doors pausing once as a couple was about to get on, but after seeing him let him go on without a question. Coyote almost passed out, unsure if it was from blood loss or exhaustion, but the dinging and wooshing of the doors riled him, and he staggered out into the hallway. Knowing he was so close to Sasuga spurred him on, and he was relieved to find that the card key still worked. He let himself into the hotel room, finding it dark and quiet and he did his best to move with stealth into the bathroom. He passed the bed and spotted Sasuga sleeping peacefully by herself, he was grateful for this because with the rage that was still somewhat in his veins if he had found Simon with her he might have taken a regrettable action. In that moment iat took everything in him to not simply cover her with himself, though with how dirty he was he knew it would only concern her more. There was blood in his mouth and under his fingernails, matting his hair down and sticking to his hat. Better to clean himself up first, and he shut the bathroom door behind him before turning on the light.

He did his best not to look at himself in the mirror, but finding it a necessity to assess some of the damage. If he had made it this far like this it couldn’t have been too bad. Still he was in rough shape. Not only was his face cut, bruised, and swollen, but he had also lost enough weight that he appeared gaunt under the torn and dirty clothes he wore. He slowly undressed, assessing each wound, fresh bruises forming on top of old ones, some cuts that were still bleeding every time he moved, gashes that would no doubt need to be closed up. He hissed as some of the clothing stuck to him where blood had dried, let his effects fall to the floor, his gun empty and tucked back in his holster, and stepped into the shower letting the water strike at his feet until it was warm enough to step into. He braced himself against the wall, letting it flow over his hair and down his back, feeling the sense of relief start to fill him as well. He had made it, he was close to resting, and he was close to his mate, that was all he could ask for right now.

[cassandraclare]

The Whispering Room: James’ POV

Here it is finally — James’ POV of the Whispering Room scene from Chain of Gold. I wanted to wait until Chain of Iron was released to give more people a chance to read the book, and also because what we learn in COI does inform the scene. I hope you enjoy!

*art by Cassandra Jean

Cortana wove with her words, underlining each one with steel. She turned as her sword turned, and her body curved and moved like water or fire, like a river under an infinity of stars. It was beautiful—she was beautiful, but it was not a distant beauty. It was a beauty that lived and breathed and reached out with its hands to crush James’s chest and make him breathless. — Chain of Gold

James had felt a strange emotion when Daisy first took the stage at the Hell Ruelle. It was a mix of several feelings...

worry on her behalf, annoyance at Kellington, curiosity, and admiration for her bravery and poise. It was unfair of these Bohemians to force her to caper for them, and, he thought, a bit insulting to Shadowhunters in general. He supposed that Matthew had given them a rather unusual view of what the Nephilim were like in such circumstances.

And then she had begun to dance. And suddenly she was not Daisy, his old friend. She was Cordelia, whose name meant heart, whose every gesture was fire. Every earthly worry he’d had had been swept out of his mind. He was conscious only of Cordelia, whirling back and forth across the small stage. Cortana danced around her, shedding light like embers. The dull glow of the lamps illuminated her body, describing her every movement, her every curve as she danced. Her scarlet hair whipped around her in time to the music, and the golden light of the lamps in the Ruelle slipped across her skin, slow and hot, like beads of honey. The cadences of her voice, rising and falling, seemed to weave a cage of silken thread about her audience, and James was no exception.

Later, James would think it was odd that he had not compared her to Grace. Grace had never entered his mind at all. Cordelia danced, and by the end of her performance, James’s entire life had been disassembled and put back together in a new and different shape. He was conscious of Matthew, beside him, also staring as the crowd cheered, his sharp cheekbones flushed. He looked dazed; James couldn’t blame him.

Cordelia descended the stage and slipped through the crowd to come back to them, blushing at the looks and murmured comments she was drawing from the audience now. James could see the desire in the eyes that followed her. Everyone wanted her. He felt a dull fury. They had no right. They did not know Cordelia. She was more than just that dance.

When she reached them she let out a long breath of relief and smiled. She glowed with the exercise of dancing. Sweat beaded along her collarbones, shimmered between her breasts. Her eyes were bright as Cortana’s blade, strapped to her back.

“Bloody hell,” Matthew exclaimed.  “What was that?”

A look of uncertainty crossed Cordelia’s face. James said, “It was a fairy tale, Math,” and Matthew nodded. His dark green eyes searched Cordelia’s face, as if looking for the key to a locked room he had only just discovered.

Cordelia looked uncertain. James couldn’t bear that. She’d been magnificent; she should know it. But he couldn’t say that, of course. It would only make her self-conscious.

“Well done, Cordelia,” James said instead; when he unfolded his arms; his wrist hurt and he wondered if he’d been clenching his hands.

Cordelia. He hadn’t called her Daisy, and she looked a little surprised. It seemed inappropriate, somehow. Daisy was Lucie’s friend, the Merry Thieves’ compatriot; he found it a smaller name than she deserved. Cordelia, though—she had been a queen, hadn’t she? Queen Cordelia, daughter of Leir, ruler of Britain before the Romans had ever landed on those shores. Like Boadicea, a legendary warrior queen. A blazing white fire behind fathomless black eyes.

“Anna has disappeared with Hypatia,” James said, noting the empty settee, “so I would call your distraction a success.”

Cordelia’s lips twitched into a smile. “How long does a seduction usually last?”

“Depends if you do it properly,” Matthew said, with a wink. James felt it as a spark of relief, a bit of lightness amid the feeling that something heavy was sitting on his chest.

“Well, I hope for Hypatia’s sake Anna does it properly,” James said. He registered, with the reflexes of a parabatai, that Matthew had gone still next to him, and wondered what was wrong. “Yet for our sake, I hope she hurries it up.”

All hint of Matthew’s jocular tone from before was gone. “Both of you,” he said urgently. “Listen.”

Did he mean all the muttering about Shadowhunters? Was he only noticing it now? It had followed them since they came into the place. But when James followed Matthew’s gaze, he found Kellington staring with an expression of vexation, not at them but at the door. All questions were answered as through the door came Charles Fairchild, looking around him with a haughty expression. He looked like was about to raid the place; so much for whatever work Matthew and Anna had done for Downworlder-Shadowhunter relations here.

Matthew narrowed his eyes. “Charles,” he sighed. “By the Angel, what is he doing here?”

Charles was, James thought, probably looking for them. He was making his way through the crowd and gazing around him. Luckily for them, the crowd was not interested in letting him through, and he was moving very slowly.

“We should go,” James said. “But we can’t leave Anna.”

In one way, at least, Charles’s arrival was helpful; it threw a bucket of cold water on the roiling heat that had gripped James’s heart since Cordelia had begun her dance. Back to the matter at hand: a demon, a Pyxis, a plan.

“You two run and hide yourselves,” Matthew said, still keeping his eyes on his brother. “Charles will go off his head if he sees you here.”

“But what about you?” said Cordelia.

Matthew shrugged, but James could see the tension in his jaw and his shoulders. “He’s used to this kind of thing from me. I’ll deal with Charles.”

Not for the first time, James wished that his parabatai wasn’t in such a hurry to sacrifice his own reputation. He exchanged a long look with Matthew, but Matthew was sure, and determined, and his desire to rush into his own humiliation was an issue that would have to wait. Nodding, he turned and caught Cordelia’s hand with his own. “This way,” he said, and she nodded back in acknowledgement. As he pulled them into the crowd he heard Matthew’s voice calling, “Charles!” in a hearty tone of pleasant, if entirely false, welcome.

James didn’t know his way around the place, and the crowd made orientating himself even more difficult, but after some trial and error he and Cordelia managed to get behind Kellington and slip into a corridor leading away. This wasn’t safe in itself, since from the main chamber one would have a clear view down the entire corridor. In fact, they were temporarily more exposed than before, and James’s hope for the hallway to take a quick turn or to contain large statuary to hide behind was quickly dashed. He continued to hold onto Cordelia’s hand, not that he needed to; she seemed to know her way better than he did.

Partway down the corridor, James caught sight of an open door — its silver plaque labeling it the entrance to THE WHISPERING ROOM. Swiftly he drew Cordelia inside, out of sight. He slammed the door behind them, causing a loud noise, but he thought it couldn’t possibly be heard over the crowd in the main chamber. Only then did he release Cordelia’s hand and take stock of their surroundings.

The room was dimly lit, but not cold: a scented fire burned in the grate, filling the space with the smell of sandalwood and roses. It was a study, he guessed, based on the gigantic walnut desk against the wall and the bookshelves opposite, but it was too richly decorated to be solely a place for studious contemplation. Phoenix feathers and dragon scales danced across the gilded wallpaper; there were no windows, but the walls were hung with patterned tapestries, the floor covered with a rug so thick James felt his boots sink into it as he moved further into the room.

Cordelia had leaned her back against the wall next to the door. Her eyes were closed and she was taking deep, full breaths, calming herself down. Cortana gleamed gold over her shoulder; the firelight gleamed a deeper gold on her skin, which seemed to take and hold its warmth. James curled his fingers in against his palm.

He wanted to touch her. He half-turned away, pretending to study the books on the wall. Any other time, he would have been fascinated by the titles. Now they seemed distant, neither immediate nor imporant. He could have sworn he heard his own heart hammering. He said, “Where did you learn to dance like that?” surprising himself with the roughness of his own voice.

His gaze snapped back to Cordelia as she opened her eyes and gave a little shrug. There was something magical about the dress she wore: it followed the shape of her own body rather than the shape of corsetry or whalebone petticoats. It slid softly against her skin as she moved, just as her dark red hair tickled the bare skin of her throat, her shoulders. “I had a dance instructor in Paris. My mother believed that learning to dance aided in learning grace in battle.”

The word grace pierced James like an icicle. He could not quite picture Grace at the moment, it was true; could not quite envision her face. He had given Grace his heart — that was an immutable fact, something he knew as he knew that two plus two equaled four. But he had to admit that at the moment his heart did not feel given. It felt like a thrumming machine inside his chest, pumping blood and heat.

“That dance,” Cordelia added with a quirk of her soft mouth that struck James like a blow to the stomach, “was forbidden to be taught to unmarried ladies. But my dance instructor did not care.”

“Well,” James said, keeping his voice steady with practiced control, “thank the Angel you were there. Matthew and I could certainly not have pulled off that dance on our own.”

Cordelia turned away from him, the smile still on her face, as though she were keeping it secret from him. She trailed her hand along the top of Hypatia’s desk. At one end was a stack of papers held down by a large copper bowl of fruit, and she brought her hand up to trace its rim.

James may have been distracted beyond the capacity for distraction he’d known before, but he was still a Shadowhunter. “Be careful,” he said warningly. “I suspect that is faerie fruit. It has no effect on warlocks—no magical effect, at least. But on humans…”

Cordelia pulled her hand back as though stung. “Surely it does not harm you if you do not eat it.”

“Oh, it does not. But I have met those who have tasted it. The say the more you have of it, the more you want, and the more you ache when you can…have no more.”

Cordelia was looking at him now, and though it took a great summoning of courage, he returned her gaze. In her dark eyes the silver and blue flames of the fireplace danced. James could not catch his breath. He had never felt this before, this breathlessness. It was like pain, but with a sweet, sharp edge. Like licking honey from a knife. He said, in a low voice, “And yet. I have always thought…is not knowing what it tastes like just another form of torture? The torture of wondering?”

The door shook on his hinges suddenly, making a clatter that made both he and Cordelia jerk their heads around to look at it. The knob was starting to turn.

Cordelia paled. “We’re not meant to be in here —“

James’s world closed down to just this: Cordelia was here, she was with him, and she looked frightened. He would do anything to stop that look on her face. He caught her in his arms, and the relief was incredible — he had not realized how much he wanted to be touching her until he was. Until he was holding her, and her strength and warmth and softness were all pressed against him, and her face was so beautiful it hurt, and her lips were parted in surprise and without another thought he kissed them.

He could feel her sharp intake of breath with his hands, clasped together at her lower back. She gasped, but did not draw back, or away — he thought he would have died if she had — she leaned into him, her full lips opening under his. She was kissing him back. He tasted honey, smelled jasmine and smoke. His hand slid up her warm cheek and into the soft fall of her hair.

Time stopped.

Cordelia’s arms were around his neck. Her lush mouth opened a little against his, and the kiss deepened. He moved his hand to the back of her neck to bring her closer. Her teeth grazed his lower lip, and he couldn’t help it; he moaned, and felt her tremble against him.

Very far away, a voice chuckled and the door closed with a soft click. This whole thing had been intended as a ruse, he knew, for the benefit of whomever was trying to get into the Whispering Room. Probably some Ruelle attendees, Downworlders most likely, who had snuck off for a rendez-vous.

Ruse accomplished, then. With intense regret, James drew back from Cordelia. Her hand, warm and soft and wonderful, was against his neck; her fingers stroked his pale white scar. Her eyes were fixed at the level of his shoulder. He could hear himself say her name — Daisy, my Daisy — instead of responding, she whispered, “I think more people are coming.”

He knew it wasn’t true. He didn’t care. He knew what she was saying: that she was asking and giving permission at once. All James’ life, he had struggled for control: control over his sudden falls into shadow, control over the dark world he could see, that was invisible to everyone else. He had worked and fought and trained for control every day, and for the first time in as long as he could remember it deserted him.

The walls he had put up burned to the ground in an instant as he caught Cordelia to him. He groaned against her mouth, his hands slipping over the silk of her dress, the hot satin of her skin. He undid the strap that held Cortana, got rid of it somehow — carefully, he hoped — and let himself fall back into delirium.

He did not ask himself why he had never felt desire like this before. He could not. He was lost in the feel of her, the incline of her waist, the flare of her hips, the rise and fall of her chest as she gasped. They were kissing wildly, uncontrolled; they fetched up against the desk, Cordelia’s back to it.

Her body bent backward in an impossible arch, her hands going behind her to brace herself. Her eyes half-closed, her head fell back, revealing the bare column of her throat. He pressed his lips there, eliciting a gasp of surprised pleasure.

His hands trailed up the sleek material of her dress — he could feel the heat of her skin through it — from her waist to the neckline of her gown. His palms followed her curves until the tips of his fingers were pressing into the bare bronze skin just above the neckline of her dress. She was sleek and soft and hot all at the same time, like nothing else he’d ever touched. He heard her whimper; she was saying his name, and his heart beat in time with her words: James, James, Jamie please.

The please undid him; shrugging off his frock coat, he caught hold of her around the waist, lifting her until she was perched on the edge of the desk. The material of her dress bunched around her knees, her thighs, as she took hold of his shirt by the starched front and kissed him. His mouth drove against hers, hot and demanding, even as he clambered onto the desk after her. She reached up her arms for him and he sank down on top of her, bracing his weight with a hand above her head.

He paused, just for a moment, looking down at her. Her scarlet hair fanned out across the desk, her eyes glazed, her full lips red from kissing. He was cradled by her body, her legs on either side of his hips, her skirt rucked up nearly to her waist. She wrapped her long, bare legs around him and he shuddered. What was in him, what he wanted, was inchoate but insistant, a force he’d never known. A yearning like hot wires in his blood, the pain-pleasurable ache of unbearable wanting that drove him to kiss her again, kiss her harder. She tangled her hands in his hair, pulling at it as he kissed her breasts, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin until she gave a low scream and clutched at him with desperate hands.

He sank down against her and kissed her, hot and deep and hard. She arched into the kiss, her breath coming in gasps. He felt her through the thinner material of his shirt: the heat of her, the swell of her breasts against his chest, her hands smoothing over his chest, his sides.

His hands aching to touch her in kind, to find out what she liked, what made her gasp, and do it again and again . . . Nothing had ever felt like this, nothing. He’d known desire before; so he remembered, so he had believed. It turned out he had stepped into a puddle and thought it was the sea. As Cordelia moved in his arms, as her lips, he realized there was a depth to desire he hadn’t even guessed at: that it was more than just desperation, but joy and need and wanting and being wanted back. It was a fever dream, his hands sliding up under the heavy satin of her skirts, the salt-sweet taste of her skin, the soft sounds of her pleasure as she urged him closer, urged him onward, the desk seeming to spin beneath them.

He heard, as if at a great distance, the sound of the door opening. He lifted his head, saw the slim fair-hared figure in the doorway. Ice washed through his veins. Cordelia stiffened, began to scramble to sit up. No, he thought, but he couldn’t stop her, couldn’t blame her. It — whatever it had been — was over.

He slid off the desk. Already the fever was vanishing, that feeling —the glorious freedom from the burden of his own will — receding. Grasping at his control, he drew it around himself,  reaching for his coat, turning to calmly meet the gaze of his parabatai.

“James?” Matthew said.

[readerstories]

Magic Fingers - Aaron Hotchner x male!reader

I got so many other ideas for fics with Aaron and male reader, this was just an excuse to write some “shorter” smut while I work on some longer fics. (AO3)

Warnings: smut, clothed sex

Wordcount: 2978

Summary: Working hard on a case you offer to give Hotch a massage, because the man is as stiff and tense as a block of wood. (And maybe you want to get your hands on him, but that’s neither here nor there).

The case had been hard, challenging, brutal, and difficult, which had caused the whole team to work on overdrive for the last few days with very little sleep. Which was why Hotch had ordered everyone back to the hotel to get some sleep, as none of you were going to get anywhere being as sleep deprived as you were.

He had tried to stay behind himself, but you had more or less dragged him back to a car while reminding him that even he was human and needed rest. Back at the hotel, in your shared room (because of course with your luck there wasn’t any single rooms left in the hotel for anyone in the team), you stretch before sitting down on your own bed, Hotch walking over to his.

You could see how tense he was, how much he needed to relax. Which was easier said then done when Hotch took as much responsibility as he did, always making sure everything possible was done to catch the unsub and save anyone who might get in harms way. Which was an admirable trait of his, but you could tell by his posture how stiff he had gotten over the last few days. The way he held himself spoke volumes to you, even though you knew he tried to shield it from the world and keep it to himself.

“Hotch?” He looks away from his jacket, the only item of his suit he has manged to force himself out of so far, while your jacket, shoes, and tie was long gone. You pat the edge of the bed next to where you are sitting, Hotch looks skeptical.

“Come on, you need to relax.”

“What does me sitting next to you have anything to do with that?”

“Let me give you a massage.” He raises a brow and you sigh, shifting so you’re kneeling on the bed instead.

“You’ve seen my resume, you know you I thought about going into massage therapy at one point.” Still, Hotch doesn’t move, so you know you have to do more to convince him.

“Remember when Reid had slept on his neck all wrong that one time after staying up way too late and I helped? Or when Morgan messed up his shoulder when going after an unsub and couldn’t sleep for days, and after a massage he finally could? It was the closest I’ve ever seen the man to weeping. Or when JJ was pregnant and hurting, but after letting me give her a massage she joked that if she didn’t love Will, and I wasn’t gay, she would have married me? Hotch, at this point I’ve given a massage to everyone on the team but you, so, get.”

You make a grabby motion with your hands. Hotch sigh, seeming to finally get how serious and stubborn you were being in that moment. He takes off his tie and shoes on the way over to the bed, but doesn’t do anything else, which makes everything a bit harder, but hey, you’ll take anything you’ll get. As Hotch sits down you’re greeted by the lovely opportunity to stare at his back without him noticing or caring too much, which would have been great, if you couldn’t tell how tense he was without even needing a single touch.

When you touch his shoulders he almost jumps, but he forces himself to calm down. Which doesn’t do much, because the instant your hands are on him you can tell it’s going to take a while and some effort to get him relax.

You slowly, ever so slowly start to move you hand, starting out gently at first to get a feeling for him. And ho boy, those are some serious knots if you’ve ever felt some. Your thumb barely brushes over one with some pressure and Hotch winces. You take a breath in trough your teeth, Hotch truly can’t be feeling any sort of pleasant right now, or really, ever you suppose.

“Hotch, if I really didn’t know any better, I would say your shoulders are made of wood with how stiff they are and how many knots I can feel.” Hotch grunts and starts to move like he’s about to stand up, but you drag him back down so he’s fully sitting again with your hands on his shoulders.

“Oh no, none of that, you’re not moving off this bed until all of them are gone and you can you know, actually be a little relaxed for once in your adult life.” Hotch scoffs, but doesn’t try to move again, which you count as a victory.

For the next, you don’t even know how long, your hands wander, squeeze, and press all over Hotch’s shoulders, loosing muscles and knots as good as you can while kneeling behind Hotch. Hotch is mostly quiet, only letting out sighs and the occasional grunt when an especially hard spot is made pliant.

When you’ve done as much as you can in this position you withdraw your hands, noting how Hotch is slumping slightly more forward now than he was when you started.

“Up the bed please, I can’t reach more like this.” Hotch turns so he can look at you over his shoulder.

“You’ve massaged my shoulders, what mor-”

“If your shoulders are any indication, you need a full body massage, so up on the bed please, front down.” You stare down Hotch, not breaking eye contact for one second. You’ve decided that he needs that massage, even if you have to tackle him to the bed to give it to him. He seems to have sensed this as he sighs, and above all miracles, does as you asked of him. He’s on his front, arms tucked under his head to use as a pillow, you now kneeling next to one hip.

Pleased with yourself, you get to work. You start where you left off from before, somewhere in the middle of his back. The knots there aren’t as bad as his shoulders, you suppose Hotch takes ‘bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders’ literally sometimes, but still you do your best to let your hands work over them until they are smoothed out and the muscles beneath your palms relax.

Over time your hands move downwards, and at some point right above the waist of his pants and his belt, your hands on either hip, they brush a particular point or points which make Hotch draw in a breath. Your hands pause before you speak.

“Sorry, you ticklish there?”

“A little.” Hotch reluctantly admits, mostly speaking at the wall he has been staring at for the last few minutes.

“I’ll keep that in mind.�� You say as you file that little nugget of info away in a part of your brain you’ve dedicated to Hotch. You make sure to avoid that spot when your hands starts up again, instead moving to his lower back. There you find a knot truly worth your skilled hands, taking several minutes before you can move your hands from that spot. You realize you’ve accomplished your goal there when Hotch lets out a loud groan as you fell his muscles loosen beneath your hands, which you gather was an involuntary sound by the slight redness on his cheeks.

“See, I told you I was good.” Hotch doesn’t responds verbally, but nods, eyes closed now. You don’t say anything else, instead moving to his legs. You start at one ankle, slowly, slowly moving your way upwards, careful not to go to high for both of your comfort. You can tell when that is by a small twitch on Hotch’s leg, just above where you can feel the start of his boxers through his pants, and then you move down. You do however at on point press on a muscle on the backside of his knee that causes the leg to move on its own, which causes you both to laugh.

When both legs are done, you take your hands off Hotch and lean back, noting how his eyes are closed, almost like he’s sleeping.

“Turn around.” This causes Hotch to abruptly open his eyes and look at you for the first time since he laid down.

“What?”

“I haven’t done your front yet, and I’m not about to let you go with a half finished massage.”

“I-I’d rather not.” Looking over Hotch you quickly realize, with your profiling work and previous experience, why he’s not moving yet.

“If it’s an erection that’s nothing new.”

“Wha-”

“Your body is just reacting to stimuli, happens a lot with men, nothing I haven’t seen before. But if you really want to stop, we can of course do that.” You can see Hotch’s mind at war with himself. You say nothing, pretending that there’s a very interesting spot on the wall above the headboard.

It’s the movement of the mattress that alerts you to the fact that Hotch is moving, as the man himself says nothing. When you look at him, he has his arms over his face, jaw and mouth barely visible. What is very visible, is the erction pushing against the front of his pants, and though you would have liked to look, you only give it a glance. Hotch jumps when you touch his ankle again, but you don’t start just yet.

“Relax, like I said, nothing I haven’t seen before. Happens a lot actually, my hands are just that good you know, like a god or something.” Hotch huffs out a laugh, a smile briefly on his lips. You smile back at him even though he can’t see you, and then concentrate back on the task at hand.

Like before, you start at his ankles, working your way up. Hotch gets less tense almost by the second, breathing deepening as your hands work their magic once more. You don’t go very high on his thighs, actually now you’re lower than before, not wanting to make Hotch uncomfortable in any way.

Next is his hips, you start at the one closest to you and work your way up towards his shoulder instead of across his stomach. He still has his arms over his face, so you poke him in the bicep to get his attention.

“Arm please.” Hotch’s sigh is deep, but he moves his arm so you can take it. You’re gentle, well, as gentle as you can be while kneading out knots from tired muscles. His bicep is firm under your fingers, needing a lot less attention than his shoulders luckily.

When you’re done with that arm, you let it go, tapping on his other so he can move that of his face and switch it for the one you finished with. The angle of it is a bit awkward, and you probably should move for easier access, but honestly you can’t be bothered as you’re very close to being finished. However, your knee protests, telling your body that hey, moving is good as not to let limbs fall asleep.

But instead of doing the logical and probably better thing of getting of the bed and walking around, your tired brain decides to just move one leg over Hotch waist, intending to just move the other one over and after. Hotch draws in a slight breath at the motion and then something in your leg fails you, causing you to drop down on Hotch, putting most of your weight on top of Hotch’s crotch. Hotch moans out loud as his hands flies to your lower thighs and you go stock still.

“Fuck shit, sorry Hotch-”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, it-” Hotch draws in a deep breath and licks his lips as you worriedly watch his face. You’re mortified, you just dropped yourself on Hotch’s erection, holy fuck, shit.

It takes a few seconds to realize that you’re not trying to move of Hotch’s lap.

But Hotch isn’t trying to move you off either.

If anything, he’s keeping you there, a deathgrip on your lower thighs.

You take a few terrifying seconds to take stock of the situation before experimentally rolling your hips against Hotch. A flex of his fingers, but he does or says nothing as he stares at the ceiling. You on the other hand, is watching his face for any hint of what he’s thinking.

“If you want me to stop, I’ll stop, and we’ll forget about it ever happening.”

“Ah, um, fuck, shit.”

Silence, one, two, three beats.

“Fuck, move.” You start to get off his, heart already dropping to your guts, but instead Hotch drags you down and rolls his hips against you. This time it’s you who gasps, as your own dick twitches in your pants with the feeling of Hotch grinding against you. Hotch throws his head back, eyes screwed shut.

You’re quick to find your balance and leverage by placing your hands on Hotch’s chest, grinding down, moving as best as you can with Hotch’s own movements. Hotch is letting out a few low moans, which you match with your own as you move and watch the adam’s apple on Hotch’s throat move as he swallows. You want to lean down and kiss his neck, but fuck, you don’t know if you even can kiss him, if he will let you.

Hotch answers that question for you, as just seconds later his eyes open and he moves so he can look at you, catching you staring at him.

“Ah fuck.” Before you can even ask, he’s sitting up. You yelp as the movement causes you to straddle his thighs instead, and then in seconds there’s a hand on the nape of your neck, and even fewer seconds later you’re kissing Hotch.

Fuck.

His lips are firm, but pressing against you with a desperation you’re sure to match. His hands on your hips, holding you hard. Your hands go into his hair, tugging him even closer of that is even possible at this point, which causes him to moan low into your mouth which holy shit, that is, fuck, you can’t even think anymore you think.

The world shifts around you then, and you find yourself on your back, Hotch’s erection pressed against your own. It feels so good, so big and firm, and you want to feel more of him, but you can’t muster the brainpower to do anything about it, so you just tug at his hair and grind against him. Hotch seems of the same mind, as he doesn’t move to do much more either, just moving his hips against yours while kissing you within an inch of your life.

Which should be ridiculous, because you’re both grown men almost fully dressed still, but fuck, that makes it even hotter you think. Or, you try to think, as your mind is mostly chants of ‘more, good, fuck, shit, hot’ over and over again, Hotch’s name thrown in the mix for good measure.

Hotch moves away from your lips, but doesn’t move far, instead peppering kissed down your neck on the little skin he can reach. You moan and gasp, moving one hand from his hair to his back, trying to press him even more against you.

“Fuck, shit, I’m close, so close!” You frantically confess towards the ceiling.

“Me too, me too.” Hotch breathes against your neck, one hand moving so he can unbutton your shirt and get his lips on your collarbone. He starts to suck and bite at a spot there, and that is what does you in. You come just seconds after your shirt is open for him, moaning loudly.

“Fuck!” You hear Hotch mutter against your skin, and then a mutter of your name as he comes, in a low baritone that you think you will remember for the rest of your life.

You lay there panting for several seconds, or perhaps minutes, you’re not sure, just a mess of limbs, most of Hotch’s weight on top of you.

It’s hot, in more ways than one, which is what forces you to push Hotch off you, to get some air. He goes willingly, flopping down on his back next to you on the bed. A few panting breaths before you both turn to look at the other, smiles, then laughter as the situation sinks in. You’re surprisingly the first to gain somewhat of a control over yourself, grinning as you speak.

“We just came in our pants, what are we, teenagers?” Hotch pushes his weight up on his elbows, wincing as apparently something pulls somewhere.

“I don’t know about you, but I certainly don’t feel like one.” Hotch smiles as you, which you return, letting your eyes wander all over him now that you can. His hair is standing in a million different directions, there’s a blush to his cheeks, his clothes are rumpled, a wet spot is forming on the front of his pants, and he looks as fucked and blissed out as you, and most certainly he, feels. You hum, your attention going back to his face.

“We should get cleaned up.” You state, which Hotch nods in response.

“I think you mean you should get us cleaned up. My legs feels like jello right about now.” You raise a brow and he grins.

“I think your massage turned off something in my legs.” You huff, incredulous, but sit up anyway.

“I’m good, but not that good.”

“Well, the sex certainly helped.” You laugh and lean down to give him a kiss, which is mostly smiling lips pressed against each other.

“Flatterer.”

“Hey, what can I say, you got magic fingers.” You smack his chest and laugh as you get up to go the bathroom, your own legs a little shaky, which Hotch doesn’t comment on, but you know he liked by the way he grins at you when you get back to the bed.

[plsimsuchasimp]

cheating.

part 2 here

Ft: Suna Rintarou x !gn reader, a little bit of atsumu miya x !gn reader

Genre/warnings: one (1) curse word, cheating, brief implied sex, angst, hurt/comfort, fighting

Wc: 1.8k

NOT PROOFREAD!

a/n: i’m so sorry for this angst but i had to do it for y’all... didn’t have it in me to write a happy ending, maybe later.

The rain was pouring down, clattering against the roof of the gym. You, sitting against the wall in a corner by the benches, watched Suna’s team play, smiling slightly at the way they seemed to seamlessly move together. Your boyfriend looked concentrated, green eyes flickering from one player to another. 

His phone buzzed beside you, and you picked it up, intending to set it to Do Not Disturb so you could do work, but the notification caught your eye. 

“Hey!” It read, “it was so good to meet you >;) you made me feel good <3″

Instantly, your heart drops into your stomach. Silently willing for the notification to disappear, your eyes cling to the screen as yet another popped up. “I miss you babe, we should do that again”

Your eyes begin to burn, trying to deny the obvious truth of what you saw in front of you. Suna Rintarou had cheated on you, and from the looks of it, with a stranger. You swallow, hard, as the lump in your throat grows and tears begin to form in your eyes. No wonder he’d been overly affectionate in the past week, he probably felt guilty.

What hurt most wasn’t that he didn’t tell you, pretended that everything was fine; no, it was the realization that you just weren’t enough for him. All the time you’d spent on him, everything you’d done, the words of confirmation and the countless amount of love and affection you’d given him, it all wasn’t good enough. 

You were bad enough for him to seek loving in a stranger’s arms.

Clicking the phone off, you put it down and stared into space for a moment, fighting the tears that threatened to spill onto your cheeks at any second. Practice was wrapping up, and you couldn’t face Suna right now. Luckily for you, he was on cleanup duty this week, so he had to stay late. 

Trying to shake the rigidity out of your limbs, you gathered your things and stuffed them into your bag, not taking the time to organize them so they all fit. Head down, you headed for the door, hoping that Suna wouldn’t look over. Opening the door, you were faced with another harsh realization: It was raining and Suna was supposed to drive you home. That wasn’t happening today, for sure. Glancing around, you spotted Atsumu pulling his umbrella out of his bag, and rushed over to him.

“Hey Atsumu,” you said, attempting to keep your voice steady, “Can I catch a ride with you?” He was going to ask why, when Suna had a perfectly good car, but then he caught a glimpse of the tear streaking silently down your face and decided it might be better to wait until later.

Unusually serious, he agreed and put a comforting hand on the small of your back as you two hurried out of the door under his umbrella. Opening his car door for you, he let you in and then went over to the driver’s side, sliding in and turning on the car so it would warm up. 

Stealing the occasional look at you, he noticed you were shaking and turned up the heat in the car although he was warm from volleyball practice. He started driving, sensing that you didn’t want to talk. Jaw clenched, he drove in silence for a couple minutes, then dared to speak.

“Hey, are you okay?” Hearing sniffles from your side of the car and seeing your shoulders shake, he pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in park. Gulping, he awkwardly reached out a hand to pat you on the back, but this only made you cry harder.

Looking up to face him, tear streaks staining your cheeks, you tried to stop shivering from shock. “S-Suna,” you mumbled, fighting to keep your voice from completely breaking, but another sob escaped before you could get anything more out.

“Wha’? Suna what?” he prodded, brow furrowing in concern. You rarely cried, so he knew this was something really serious.

“Suna c-cheated on me.” The last couple of words were whispered, your voice breaking, and Atsumu’s mouth dropped open. Of all the things he’d expected to hear, it wasn’t that. Your relationship with Suna had always seemed perfect. He’d seen the way Suna looked at you, his eyes soft, seen the way his behavior changed around you, seen his eyes light up whenever you smiled. This wasn’t possible.

He opened his mouth, shutting it again when words failed him. You were hunched in the passenger’s seat, shaking so hard he could hear your elbows accidentally hitting the car door. Without a second thought, he took his sweatshirt off and covered you with it, hoping that it would warm you up at least a little bit. 

“I- I’m so sorry,” he muttered, unsure how to comfort a clearly distraught you. As soon as your shudders subsided, his mind turned to Suna and what he would do next time he saw him. No doubt he deserved to be beat up for what he did to you, hurting you like that, but it just didn’t make sense. Suna was totally in love with you, and it was obvious to any outsider. 

He started the car again, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your shoulder, trying to calm you down. “Y/N, I’m gonna drop ya off at home, okay?”

A quick nod from you reassured him, and you two drove with just the raindrops crashing down on the roof of the car. When you arrived at your house, you made a motion to give back his sweatshirt, but he just waved a hand and said “Don’t worry about it. Ya can return it to me when I next see ya.” Your lips trembled and you turned away from him, making the way to your door and letting yourself in. He didn’t leave until he saw that you were inside, then started driving back to the gym.

You shed your jacket and turned on the heater in your house, not bothering to turn on the lights or draw the curtains. Kicking your shoes off, you crawled into bed and under your blanket and let the tears come, hugging the pillow that smelled too much like Suna.

Meanwhile at the gym, Suna was just finishing up and wondering where you’d gone to. The guilt of his mistake still hung with him, and he was looking to take you out to dinner tonight and spend some more time with you. However, when he saw his phone laying faceup, the bold words in text still plainly on the screen, he knew that you’d found out, and his heart contracted. Sinking to his knees, he struggled to breathe through the upcoming panic. He was in love with you, and he had no idea what had possessed him to fall into someone else’s arms for the night.

The feeling surged when he remembered that one of your biggest fears/insecurities was not being good enough, and a short gasp fell out of his mouth as he realized just how much he’d messed up. The gym door swung open, banging against the wall with the sheer force of the push. There stood Miya Atsumu, a murderous expression on his face.

“Suna!” He barked, and the middle blocker glanced up briefly before returning his attention to the phone clutched in his hands, frantically pressing the call button as it once again went straight to voicemail. The sound of your voice was almost too much for him to bear, his breathing accelerating and his head pounding. 

y/n please pick up please i’m so sorry i swear i didn’t mean it they mean nothing to me i love you i love you so much please don’t leave me

His fingers speed across the keyboard, hoping against hope that you’ll talk to him. Any sort of contact. The phone is suddenly knocked from his hand by Atsumu, the look on his face nothing short of furious. 

“What the fuck were ya thinking?” He spits, rage evident in the bulging veins of his neck. “You hurt y/n so badly that they had to drive home with me rather than face another second of ya.”

His words stung Suna, because they both knew they were true. He doesn’t resist when Atsumu pulls him to his feet, glaring at him and shoving him towards the wall. 

“You’re pathetic. Y/N is the best person ya will ever meet, and ya ruined it all.” Once again, Suna doesn’t reciprocate, his eyes falling miserably to the ground. Atsumu’s fist comes up and hits Suna straight in the stomach, forcing the breath out of his lungs as he collapses to the floor. Atsumu looks at him with an expression of pure disgust, walking away to leave Suna where he is, slumped against the wall.

His eyes are dull, the life drained out of them, because he knows Atsumu is right. A notification causes his phone to buzz and he picks it up immediately, hoping to see anything from you, but it’s just another text from the fling. Hatred for himself and the person fills him, and he slams his phone down, allowing his head to sink into his knees. 

He needs to see you, so he grabs his stuff and rushes to his car, barely remembering to lock the gym on his way out. Going ten miles above the speed limit, he makes it to your house ten minutes after you had. 

Walking up to your front door, he knocks urgently, over and over again. He hears shuffling from behind, and the door opens to reveal you in an oversize sweatshirt that doesn’t belong to him and sweatpants, eyes red and puffy from crying. 

The instant you see him, time seems to stop. The hurt is written all over your face, and the regret all over his. He can’t seem to move, can’t do anything besides whisper your name.

“Y/N.” 

You shake your head, new tears forming in the corners of your eyes, and turn away. “I don’t want to talk to you, Suna.” 

With those words, his heart shatters a little bit more. He was your Rin, your Rinnie, never Suna. “Please-” the door slams in his face and he hears the lock turning, signaling the final goodbye. He screams, pounding on your door as the panic overtakes him. 

“Please! I love you! I’m so sorry, just please don’t leave me! I’ll go insane if you do!” Tears stream down his face and yours, mourning each other on opposite sides of the door. His words wrack you, tempt you to open the door and forgive him, but you can’t. He already showed you he didn’t care.

Half an hour passes, with the yells from the door fading into whimpers. Finally, you hear a car door slam, and you allow yourself to sob, held immobile on the floor. 

You’re broken, and it’s his fault. His head falls onto the steering wheel, not caring that it sets off the car horn.

Still, the rain patters on the roof, both of you less than three hundred feet apart, but forever separated.

He’ll never love anyone like he loved you.

[thatweeboverthereisthirsty]

Can I call you mine?

A commission from the lovely @carlottastudios who I absolutely adore after only having a few conversations with. These were jealousy scenarios with a bit of spice! I went over my word limit on Jamil’s but that’s just cause I love him so much! Please enjoy! And commissions are open still! This one cost $3

Warnings: slight spice, fem!reader, jealousy, protectiveness, possessive behavior, light light LIGHT angst, marking kink (is that a thing? oh well. Basically a love bite that displays their claim.)

   “In the jungle, the botanical jungle, a lion sleeps all the time~!” you sang out teasingly. Leona huffed and his tail thumped against the ground once in irritation. Giggling, you slid closer and poked said tail, which retracted swiftly, prickling in annoyance.

   “Scram herbivore.” Leona’s tone was mildly annoyed but had no bite to it. Truthfully he hoped you would inch just a bit closer so he could grab you and hold you hostage as his pillow. 

   You hummed and stood, much to his displeasure, and grabbed your school stuff. Quietly you packed everything away and threw out your lunch trash before returning to Leona’s spot one more time.

   “I have class now, Leona. I’ll see you later, kay?” he grunted in agreement and watched you walk away, nose twitching as he inhaled your fresh scent one last time before it began to fade. The down side of the botanical garden was that any smell other than flowers was quickly dispersed by the sickeningly sweet perfume of nectar.

   The lion sighed and stared up at one such flower with distaste. How dare they try to outdo his beloved? He would never appreciate their scent more than hers. He rolled his eyes at the ridiculous thoughts and fell back asleep. He hummed as he did so, mimicking the tune you had sang to him. He missed you already.

----------

   5:48 P.M. You were 18 minutes late. 18 minutes had passed since you were supposed to be in Leona’s bed, curled up next to him, petting his ears, and doting on him like the king he was. 18 minutes where Leona gradually became more worried, as well.

   It wasn’t like you to be late. Especially not late to a night with him. It set his instincts off and he was on high alert, tensed, ready to pounce on anything that dared touch his mate. Finally when the clock turned 5:20 he sprang out of bed and strode down the hall with power that sent the message “don’t mess with me”.

   In the Savanaclaw lounge you were seated next to the decorative pool, chatting amidly with a fellow student. Leona glared and growled when he spotted you, far too close to the other man for his liking. He watched in anger, as the student slid even closer to you so that your hips touched briefly.

   Rage flashed in Leona’s eyes and his expression darkened into something dangerous. He stalked over behind you and the student, who seemingly didn’t notice his presence and hastily picked you up before throwing you over his shoulder. 

   “Hey! Put me down!” you cried out and he snarled at you. “Quiet, herbivore!” Recognizing your boyfriend's voice you stilled and relaxed a bit. At least it wasn’t some stranger. 

   He mentally gave you points for fighting back when you didn’t know who it was. “That’s right, only I get to touch you.”

   Looking down at the student who had been sitting with you, he noticed your homework was on his lap and realized he had just been helping you. He growled and turned walking away, a bit upset that he didn’t have a good reason to turn them to dust. Not that he needed one, but he couldn’t imagine upsetting you by harming one of your classmates, no matter how much he wanted to.

   Soon he reached his room and threw you on the bed. You landed with a gasp and looked up at him in confusion and slight annoyance. “Leona! What was that-MPH!”

   He silenced you quickly by shoving you down on the bed and sliding his tongue into your mouth. Immediately your body relaxed underneath him and he smirked when you brought your hands up to weave into his hair. 

   Only he got to touch you like this. Only he got to kiss you. Only he got to say that you were his. His and his alone! 

   You panted when he pulled back and started to ask why but he kissed you again so you couldn’t. “Jealous. Protective. Possessive. Mine” He said between kisses and soon trailed them along your jaw and down to your neck.

   A breathy moan slipped from your lips as he sucked on the sensitive skin near your collar. He kissed up until he was right over the junction between your neck and shoulders. Then he bit down hard, drawing a loud cry from you. 

   The taste of your blood only just barely appeared before he pulled back and began to kiss the wound. He knew that licking it would irritate it further due to his cat-like tongue, but he still attempted to soothe it as much as possible.

   Finally he pulled back completely and gazed down at you with a smirk. Several different bruises and love bites littered your neck, shoulders, and collar. Only one had been deep enough to break the skin. It would scar he was sure and the thought of you always wearing a symbol of his claim made him purr.

   He stopped though when he realized he could have hurt you. “I’m sorry. Princess, I didn’t mean to get so upset, it’s just instincts.” he sighed. 

   You smiled at him and pulled him down for another kiss. “Don’t worry. I find it super sexy when you get possessive.” His eyes widened in surprise and he took in your mild blush. “Hmmm…” he purred with a smirk. “Well in that case you don’t mind if I mark you up a bit more… and while I’m at it you can use that pretty voice of yours to remind the whole dorm that you’re mine and mine alone!”

   Jamil gritted his teeth and turned away from the lounge. He made his way to the kitchen and immediately began to prepare more horderves. Kalim’s party was going wonderfully, of course all due to his hard work. Although he supposed he appreciated a week's notice and Kalim did help magically with some of the decorations.

    He was still stressed, but not quite as much as he could have been, had Kalim not given him a warning. In fact he was looking forward to actually trying to enjoy one of Kalim’s parties for the first time since he was born. 

   It was a very nice party and since everything was going smoothly, Jamil found time to sit down and sip some juice. Alcohol wasn’t allowed on school premises but grape juice mimicked the taste nicely depending on what brand you bought. Kalim was partial to the sweeter stuff, while Jamil preferred it to be more sour.

   However, he found that the sour taste in his mouth wasn’t from the juice at all when he spotted you dancing joyously with some other student. His smile fell into a frown and he watched angrily as the student pulled you close and said something that made you laugh.

   You had a beautiful laugh, it was the kind that made everyone in the room sigh in content when they heard it. Jamil fell in love with it almost as hard as he had fallen in love with you. Especially because you rarely laughed for anyone but him.

   To hear you generously sharing that sound with some nobody sent flashes of anger through him.  He clenched his fists and dug his nails into his palms a bit. Just remembering it made him pissed.

   Shaking his head to clear it, Jamil got to work cutting up some more vegetables at a fast speed that would intimidate anyone who tried to approach him. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone so he glared darkly at the food in front of him in an attempt to send off silent go away signals.

   Kalim, who entered the room to find Jamil after seeing him storm off, caught sight of the frustrated man and paused to observe his body language. Ever since Jamil’s overblot, Kalim had been trying to read his friend's emotions better. Luckily he caught on quickly and left the room.

    Jamil sighed in relief and set the knife down. Why the hell would you wanna hang out with anyone but him! You were his and his alone! The only thing he had claim over, or ownership of. Mentally he berated himself for thinking that way. You weren’t an object, you were a person and you should be allowed to do whatever you want. He would be a hypocrite if he tried to restrict your choices and behaviors.

   “Jamil?” The man spun around and found you standing behind him with a concerned look on your face. “Kalim told me you looked upset, is everything alright?” Your tone was soft and worried. It eased Jamil’s emotions in the way it always had. You always put him first, a habit he both loved and hated. On one hand he adored being pampered for once, on the other he knew what it was like to ignore your own wants and needs for another person.

   He sighed and put on a smile, taking your hands in his own. “Just tired that’s all.” you frowned and glared up at him in the way you always did when he lied.

   “Now, I know that’s not true. I’m not gonna force you to tell me, but I also want you to know that you can be honest with me. That’s why I’m here.” Jamil bit his lip and turned away, a flush rising on his cheeks.

   “The truth…” he hesitated. “The truth is I don’t want you hanging out with that other student!” The sudden exclamation took you aback and you blinked in surprise. “I don’t want to control you or tell you what to do and who to hang out with, but I also want you all to myself. No one else should be able to touch you or whisper in your ears, or dance with you, or make you laugh and smile. That’s my job, because your mine, not theirs!”

   At this point you were blushing as well, but noticed he was beginning to get upset. “And I’m so sorry for saying that like you’re some object, cause you’re not. You’re a person who deserved to make their own choices and decisions, but goddamnit I can’t help wanting you all to myself. You’re- you’re…” he paused and looked at you. “You’re special… to me. I don’t want anyone taking you away from me. I know i’m being a hypocrite but don’t go back out there. Stay here and be mine-”

   Jamil was cut off by you kissing him passionately on the lips. His eyes widened before they fell closed and he snaked his arms around your waist, tugging you flush against him with a growl. 

   His tongue swiped at your lips and you parted them obediently. He smirked and chuckled lowly before slipping it into your mouth. “Good girl.” You moaned through the kiss and felt your knees weaken. He pulled you around and lifted you effortlessly onto the counter. His kisses moved from your lips to your neck where he simultaneously worshipped and abused your skin.

   Love bites and dark bruises displayed his rough treatment, but the sighs that fell from your lips told him that you were enjoying it greatly. Silently he pulled back to observe his handiwork and smirked at the amount of marks he had left behind. Some would be easy to hide, whereas others he had left strategically in places that would be impossible to cover up. He felt a little guilty, knowing that you would be slightly upset later for making it so hard to hide the fact that he had been kissing you, but seeing something almost like a name tag, or a brand, that signified you were his and his alone, stirred something in him and he was tempted to never let you leave his sight without a mark warning people off about advancing on you.

   “Jamil…” you spoke shakily. He looked at you and how wrecked you were just from some kisses and his gaze darkened with lust. His tongue licked his lips subconsciously and he watched you shiver in reaction. “I have something important to tell you…”

   He raised an eyebrow and moved his head to the other side of your neck, placing kisses and marks there as well. It made it very hard to think so you momentarily pushed him away, making him growl in displeasure. “Don’t feel bad about being possessive over me, okay? Because when you are…” you hesitated, “it’s really freaking hot.”

   His eyes widened and an almost evil smile drew up on his lips. “That so… well, then I guess you don’t mind me leaving a few more marks over here,” he licked a stripe up your neck drawing a gasp from you, “to show the whole world that you belong to me!” He snarled it out before biting lightly at your skin and relishing in the way you tilted your head to the side with a moan. Yeah, he could get used to you hanging out with other boys so long as he got to do this to you before and after.

[raggaraddy]

Idk of I/someone else has already asked this but how would the yanderes react to having a mute s/o

Mute

A/N: Hi Hi. Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy it! 💜💜💜

Trigger warning: Yandere themes, violence, abuse, unhealthy relationships, blood drinking, descriptions of medical care.

Line: Mini-Rap Line (Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin)

Alpha! Namjoon

"How long are you going to keep this up?" Namjoon asks, trying to mask the genuine irritation in his voice.

It's been 8 days and you haven't said a word to him. Now, if you weren't talking at all that would be one thing, but you were specifically not talking to him, and would talk to other people with no problem. Trying to make it as pointedly obvious as possible that you were avoiding him and him alone.

The blatant disrespect of this was driving him mad. But he had never set a rule that directly stated that you have to talk to him or reply to him, and he knew that you would only fight it further if he instituted the edict now.

For you though, you were having the time of your life making him suffer. It was rare for you to have so much control between the two of you, and you were abusing it to the fullest. Especially given the reason this all started.

A week ago you were whining because he wouldn't let you go to the town fair without him. An unreasonable decision he made. Because as you tried to point out, you were going to be surrounded by the pack anyhow, and the excuse he gave for not going was a very unnecessary border run that anyone else could do in his place. While he wants to deny it, you know the real cause for his refusal though. It's because you sounded too excited about seeing your new friend at the fate and he was jealous. Even though she was another girl, for whom you had no romantic feelings, he was still jealous. And petty. You could see it in the way he mentioned her name or his face when you spoke about her.

But even with all that, it was his injustice that really made you snap. The exact words he said to you as you tried to reason your point, were; If you're going pout I don't want to hear another word from you. Basically, he told you to shut up just because he couldn't come up with any valid rebuttals and he didn't want to lose. So fine, if he wanted to be a dick, you were going to simply take his own instruction and hyperbolize it.

And his frustration was worth every moment of silence.

While he was hoping not to further blow this out of proportion, Namjoon was trying to break your silence by being strict towards all your other undesirable behaviour. Disciplining you for each and every rule you broke. Hoping to wear you down, or at the very least provoke you into another argument so that he could claim victory.

He was giving you time outs, taking away your electronics, making you hold quarters to the wall, refusing you junk food and sweets, making you stay by his side the entire day and so on. Fully running through all of his most infuriating and childish punishments. But no matter what he did, you remained defiant. And he was at the end of his rope.

Sitting in the kitchen, you were talking with the Gamma and two other wolves during a patrol break. As Namjoon was putting lunch together, you were happily observing his clenched jaw. However, the aggravation their Alpha was exuding was putting the wolves on edge and they were trying to include him in any way they could. Asking his opinion on topics as trivial as shoes, in the hopes to offset the irreverence you were showing.

When they asked him which of two brands he prefered, you interrupted, sick of their transparent attempts.

"No one cares what he has to say." You snip turning your back to him. For the first time in days, you were referring to him, and all the attitude you had stored up was pouring out in those words. You didn't take a second to think about what you were really saying though.

With an almighty crash, Namjoon smacks his hand into the benchtop, catching the side of the plate causing it to shatter. All three wolves and you jump. Quickly the words replay in your head as you see their wide-eyed gawking. Then the realization hits, you were safe being underspokenly disrespectful, but being outrightly so... he had rules set about that, and now you'd just given him the right to punish you in the way he had been itching to.

Grabbing your arm before you can protest he drags you upstairs to your shared bedroom. With weak shoves and refusals, you stay determined not to utter a single word. But as Namjoon pulls onto the bed, dragging you over his lap, as he lifts up your dress and tears down your underwear, you recognise that it's not time to play anymore.

Ignoring your shouts, your foul language, and eventually your cries for him to stop, he holds you down and smacks your ass raw. After about 20 minutes and once he's reduced you to tears, he finally lets up.

"Apologize," he demands. Still crying, you're too out of breath to reply at once, and that pause costs you. His hand comes down on your bruised ass again making you scream. Your cries turning into whimpered hiccuped apologies as you cling to the tear-soaked duvet.

Satisfied with your change in attitude, Namjoon at last stops. Not letting you run away like you want though, instead he has you straddle his lap, his legs carefully spread so your bruised butt doesn't have to sit on anything.

"Do you understand why I did that Y/n?" He asks softly pulling you into his chest. His hand running over your back.

You know why he did it, but you're too bitter to answer him and can only muster a grunt.

"Still not speaking to me, huh?" He smiles knowing he has already won whether you wanted to admit it or not, "Because if you're going to continue being disrespectful, I don't care if your ass is still glowing, I will bring you back up here."

You can only grunt again. Hating him, while you nevertheless cuddle in closer not wanting him to stop comforting you. He chuckles feeling your energy. Fiddling with your clothes and hair to realign and neaten them.

"Beautiful," he purrs in your ear, "If it really means that much to you, I will have someone cover me this Friday so I can take you to the fair." He consigns, kissing your forehead. You finally look up to him, head tilted and mouth slightly open. "Do you want that?"

Looking down and away, you're pouting a little but you push the word out. "Yes,"

"Okay, I will. But you have to be on your best behaviour from now until then." Namjoon winks.

You lost, but you still got what you wanted in the end. So maybe you can chalk this up to a draw. And at the very least you've found a way to get what you want in the future. So maybe that can be considered a win.

Assassin! Yoongi

Because of your disrespectful outburst, Yoongi had told you that you were not allowed to speak until he says. So far you were 4 weeks into your 5 week deadline.

Initially, it was an unyielding torment to have to be silent. A few times you had slipped up and spoken. Each and every time, Yoongi was quick to respond. He would lock you downstairs for as many days as words you spoke. Luckily, the most you said at one time was 5 words. And he still fed you while you were down there. So while it was horrible, it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been.

Steadily though, you found it became easier. While you weren't allowed to speak, you still needed to be able to communicate with Yoongi, so he allowed you to nod and shake your head, and smile. It was restrictive, but strangely enough, you found it becoming comfortable. Because you couldn't speak Yoongi expected less from you. You didn't have to search for words when he spoke to you in an attempt to make him happy and overall, it made your interactions less stressful.

With you not speaking, he was speaking less also. So for the past few days, you have been enjoying a wordless dialogue that you and Yoongi were having. And at this point, you were feeling more relaxed and not missing talking at all.

Although waking up this morning you came downstairs to a horrible sight, that made you wish you could scream.

Yoongi was collapsed on the floor. Stretched out on the kitchen tiles in a puddle of his own blood. Covered in bruises and cuts. His torn up T-shirt soaked in blood.

3 nights ago he had left for a job. With the ease between the two of you, Yoongi didn't lock you up when he left, although he didn't downrightly state that as the reason. He must have come home sometime last night, but clearly, you didn't hear him.

Rushing to his side, you're looking down his unconscious battered form with no idea what to do. This is nothing you know how to deal with.

With how long you have been without speaking it feels wrong, unnatural even when you think about doing it now. And you can't bring yourself to release a single word. So you do what you can to try and get his attention, and to wake him up. You shove him, clap over his head. Lastly and desperately smacking his face a few times, sighing in relief as it pulls him back to consciousness.

Groaning, his eyes look to be spinning from light-headedness. Stiffly he tries to get himself upright against the wall. Seeing his intent you help him. Pulling him, you slip a little in the puddle of blood. Your hands and feet are already covered in it. Your limbs trembling as you hold your hands away from your body. Looking down at him with pleading eyes, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

"Medic kit," he breathes, each puff heavy and wheezed.

You nod, spreading a trail of blood through the house to his bedroom. Collecting the duffle bag in his closet that is filled with a surgeries worth of supplies and running back downstairs, you drop the bag at his side, unzipping it for him.

While you were gone he's torn his ripped shirt off. Among the cuts and scars that already litter his pale chest, he has a deep long cut that runs diagonally down his torso. It looks like basic first aid was already applied, blood-drenched gauze stuck on the worst and deepest parts of it.

"I'm gonna talk you through this," he pants, with a struggled smirk, "Maybe wash your hands first, cause if I die of infection, I'll be pissed." His playful banter feels so out of place, not just for the scene but for him. Although, you're not going to question how he wants to deal with a life-threatening injury, and the ridiculousness of you being the one that needs to help him. If he wants to joke to cope, fine.

Nodding and wide-eyed through the whole run-down, it takes everything you have, but you stay calm and stop yourself from crying.

Thankfully time has seemed to stop the bleeding. As you remove the bandages the lacerations have somewhat clotted. Going step by step, you follow Yoongi's every word. First, you clean the area with a bucket of water and a cloth. Then apply an antibiotic ointment, that smells really gross. Washing your hands once again, you lower beside him, and realize you've only just gotten to the worst of it.

While the bleeding has stopped the cuts above his belly button and his hip are deep enough, the fat is exposed.

"You gonna be able to do this?" Yoongi asks as you hold the needle and thread with a tremble in your hands that is painfully obvious.

You nod, taking a deep breath. But even after 3 more of them, your exhales are still coming out shaky. You are in desperate need to calm down and your sure he can't get mad at you in this circumstance, so you're going to try what you've seen on T.V. Standing, you rummage through the cupboards and pull down a bottle of whisky from the top shelf. Watching Yoongi closely as you open the cork, giving him the chance to stop you. But he doesn't so you gulp down a few mouthfuls, shivering as the taste flows down your chest.

You're not sure if it helped your hands, but you feel a little better. So that's enough.

Returning to his side, slowly Yoongi talks you through suturing the openings. A traumatic experience you hope to never repeat. The sensation of the needing pushing through the layers of skin will surely never leave your head though.

During the stitching, you were surprised that Yoongi didn't flinch or react in any way. You're unsure if it was because the area was numb or because he was restraining himself to not freak you out. But in any case, you were grateful.

After everything and nearly 2 hours, you finally move onto bandaging.

Both of you are now able to slump back, thoroughly exhausted. For the longest time after the final step, neither of you move. You're still horrified, leaning against the wall looking over the armature medical aid you've given Yoongi's chest. Almost feeling a sense of pride through the unrelenting urge to vomit.

"You know," Yoongi grunts, shuffling back, lifting only his head to rest against the same wall. "If you wanna finish early and talk now, I think you've earned it." He chortles dryly, with a straight line smile.

Wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist, you laugh uncomfortably. Honestly, after this, you'll be happy to have the next week without speaking.

Vampire! Hoseok

You couldn't take much more of this.

It was endless and he was ruthless.

Night after night Hoseok was coming to you. Drinking from you, hurting you in so many ways, and leaving you. If you were lucky, he'd remember to feed you his blood before he left. If not, he'd let you remain broken, making you suffer through the day.

With everything that you had to endure, you were tired of being tired. Exhausted of being exhausted. Scared and sad all the time, and hating a life from which you had no means of escape. But even with all of this, you were still holding out hope that there had to be some way to lessen your suffering. You had to believe that if you wanted to keep your sanity. You just had to figure out what he wanted.

So far you had seen no depth to him. All you had learnt was that he enjoyed your misery too much. It was like a game to him. Every sound you made, every cry, every time you begged or screamed at him, or fought him, it would only encourage him. He was trying to coax a reaction, to draw out your fear. And with no other form of control, you wanted to see what would happen if you took that away from him.

You theorized that if you did he would get more vicious, but then he would get bored. Best case scenario; he would let you go. Worst case; he would kill you. And somewhere in the middle; he would keep you only for your blood. But any of these were better than the hell you were living in now.

So partly with a plan in mind, and partly out of sheer exhausted terror, you stopped speaking. It was going to be impossible to stop all sounds. There was no way you could stop yourself from screaming or crying or reacting, but you could control the words that came out of your mouth.

And for over 2 weeks now, you haven't uttered a single word.

With the sun high in the sky and being ready to sleep, you come back to your room, jolting as you open the door. Seeing Hoseok sitting on the bed.

In an unnatural flash, he's behind you, goosebumps prickling on the back of your neck. Grabbing a chunk of your hair he jerks and twists you, moving you to face him. His other hand comes up pressing his fingers into your cheeks harshly enough to make your mouth open. Keeping your jaw spread, he moves and tugs your head inspecting inside at all angles.

"Hmm, I was just checking if I cut your tongue out and forgot. But it's there." he uses his hold on your face to throw you back. Crashing you to the floor. "So you're choosing not to speak to me." He chuckles eerily.

As soon as you hit the floor, you scramble to your feet. Struggling to do so with an injured leg, but knowing it's safer to not let yourself remain on the ground or he'll most likely stomp on you.

You croak quickly silence yourself, forcing yourself to not speak and maintain your desperate strategy. Bracing yourself instead like you're facing a wild animal.

He marches forward, grabbing the arm you hold out. You'd rather he break your limbs than your organs. But he uses the arm to yank you forward, his right fist hooking broadly, your head snapping to the side, blood flying from your mouth. "Still not going to speak baby?" He yanks you back, hitting you in the exact same way. And a third time, your mouth gushing blood inside and out. "Are you trying to hurt my feelings?" He laughs switching his target, this time aiming at your torso. Each time dragging you back into place so he can properly hit you again.

Smacking the back of his hand into your head, he lets your fly into the floor this time. Clicking his tongue as he squats, hovering over you. "Baby, it's not as fun when you're not begging me to stop," he says icily. "Maybe I'm not hurting you enough."

Finally, he's giving you the assurance that you were right. Which means just like you thought, he's threatening to become more vicious. So you can endure that, or you can try something extra and see what happens when you outrightly give him everything he already takes.

Gently and so very carefully you lift your arm to his chest, gradually and painfully getting yourself onto your knees. Watching you do so with such difficulty and while you're trying to maintain eye contact with him, Hoseok is too amused to interrupt you.

With the taste of blood flowing from your mouth, you lean in nervously, expecting at any moment to have your body broken in two. Your heart thumps enough to hurt as you lightly kiss him. Leaving a stamp of your blood on his lips. Too scared to even blink as you monitor him. With a curious expression in his eye, he licks lips clean, a trace of a smile raising the corners of his mouth.

Not receiving a negative reaction you continue. Hoisting yourself up again you begin to kiss him slowly, your tongue flicking his lips encouraging him to open his mouth. Deepening the kiss the moment he does. Kissing your blood between the two of you.

Your hands are shaking, your legs are trembling, and you feel sick with fear, but he seems to be stable. And it seems to be working. As tenderly as you kiss him, he is kissing you back the same.

After several minutes and as the pain of holding yourself up gets to be too much, you lower down, terrified that any movement could evoke a change in his response. Keeping your eyes fixed on him, you tie your hair back into a messy bun.

The smirk on Hoseok's face is fully grown as he watches you with complete intrigue. You've never been the one to initiate anything and he is beguiled by your actions.

Coming back to the same height you don't return to kissing him, instead you press your chest to his, clinging one hand into his shirt to keep you balanced, and the other wrapping around his neck to bring his mouth down to your shoulder. It's a wordless invitation that he accepts eagerly, sinking his fangs into the slope of your neck. Too sore and tired to cry out, you can only pant through the bite.

As he drinks, your hands drop and his tighten around you to keep you up. But the second he's done, he releases you and lets you fall to the carpet.

Your eyes open as you hear the bedroom door. However, you see Hoseok stall. Pursing his lips while looking over his shoulder at you. To your surprise, he turns back and in a delicate manner you did not think possible from him, he lifts you up, carrying you to your bed.

Tilting your head up, he presses his lips to yours and your first thought is one of dread. Assuming that he's not finished and he only came back to have sex with you, thinking how much it's going to hurt in your condition.

Pushing his tongue into your mouth you can feel right away that the blood pouring into your mouth is not yours but his. His tongue lapping yours, feeding you his blood the same way you did to him. Healing you in a way he never has before.

Steadily you can feel all your cuts and breaks startling to heal. Clarity returning to your sight and your breath again flowing easily. As your energy returns you begin to reciprocate the kiss. Both out of a feeling of success and clinging on to the taste of his blood, which has come to trigger a feeling of relief within you. Having attached the flavour with the sensation of having your pain taken away.

Abruptly, Hoseok pulls away, getting up without another word or look. Leaving you alone, laying in shock.

It was a reaction unlike any you had expected, but for the very first time, he was damn near humane. So you would have to try that again and see if lightning strikes twice.

Playboy! Jimin

"Ta-da" Jimin bursts into the bedroom with a small black paper bag in his hand and a massive smile on his face. He jumps on the corner of the bed snatching the remote from you and turning the tv off with a click over his shoulder. "Look, Angel." He hands it over, putting the gift in your lap.

Looking down at it, you sigh internally, leaning back you choose to pointedly ignore it. Resting your head against the headboard, you close your eyes.

Lifting the bag by the handles Jimin swings it between his fingers over your head trying to place it in your eye line. "Look, your favourite." He shakes the brand in your face, the joy in his eyes gently fading into guilt.

For 5 days now, you had been stuck in bed. During an argument about your job, Jimin was once again trying to convince you to quit. His points were the same as always. That you didn't need a job because he could pay for you. That you lived with him, and he would buy you heaven and earth. He meant it in a sweet romantic way, but you couldn't help but take it in a 1910 housewife kind of way. You knew that mostly the reason he wanted you out of work was that he was very greedy with you and hated you being around other people. He didn't like that you weren't there to keep him company and entertain him at all times.

Honestly, those 8 hours out of the house, even though you were down to 3 days a week, were so revitalizing. Jimin could be a lot of work. And he was getting more and more controlling about who you saw and when you could see them. Apart from work, it had been 3 months since he last let you go out or see any of your friends by yourself. And you were fighting to hold onto this last little bit of freedom.

However, you will admit in the attempt at making your point solid, you said something incredibly stupid. He said he paid for everything, and you said you needed your own money in case you ever wanted to leave him. And he took that about as well as you'd expect.

"Come on, this isn't fair." Jimin pouts. "I said I'm sorry."

What really wasn't fair was that he hit you, kicked you, and screamed at you. Demanding you apologize and promise to never leave him. But you were coughing up blood, too dazed to even comprehend his words at the time. And when you didn't answer he growled you can't leave if you can't walk as he threw you down the stairs.

It's only by a miracle that you weren't injured as permanently as he intended, but still, he had done plenty of harm. Your ribs and stomach were black and purple. Your face was cut up with your lips split and your jaw swollen. Your arm and hip were also deeply bruised and sore. But with all of this, you truly have no idea the full extent of the damage because Jimin refuses to let you go to the hospital.

So, due to your injuries and your own principles, you hadn't spoken to Jimin since you woke up.

The first day he was remorseful and apologetic. He pleaded and begged for you to forgive him. He tried to hold you and love you and take care of you, but despite the pain and the fact that you really couldn't take care of yourself, you refused him at every turn. On the second day, he was already becoming annoyed that you wouldn't let him near you and kept ignoring him, and on the third day, he yelled at you for being difficult, trying to put the blame for his reaction on you. Yesterday, when he saw that gaslighting you wasn't getting him what he wanted, he went back to being sweet and doting, having had better luck with guilting you in the past.

This means today when his presents don't earn him your forgiveness, he should be right on track to getting pissy again.

He pulls a small box out of the bag, flicking it open. "Ta-da," he smiles. Only to be met once more with your active avoidance. "Look," he whines holding the ring box up but your eyes are closed. "Y/n look!" He barks.

You're not going to, though. He always does this. Buys you something to resolve his guilt. And if for even a moment you express gratitude or pleasure in it, he takes it as complete forgiveness. Then when you haven't actually absolved him, he accuses you of being difficult or a spoiled bitch. Even ignoring him you know he's going to make a problem of that too, but at least this way he will have to keep suffering in his shame.

During the last few days, you've been thinking hard about why you're with Jimin. For a moment, you even thought about packing your things in the middle of the night and leaving him. Moving back in with your old housemate, returning to full-time work and picking up your life where you left it. But thinking that, even with everything bad Jimin can do, it hurt your heart.

He's yours. And out of all of the people in the world, you're his.

Really there weren't too many times that he freaked. And he only did it because he loved you too much, or because you said something cruel like you did this time. No, most of the time he was so sweet. He listened to you, and he really cared about everything you had to say. Even the smallest problems he wanted to help with. He was normally so kind and gentle and he treated you like a princess.

No matter how hard you looked you would never find anyone who treated you like Jimin did.

So even when he lost his temper, you knew you just needed to hold out, because soon everything would return to regular.

This time he just overdid it. And that's why you were punishing him by not speaking to him. Because you knew it was important to stand up for yourself.

There's a flurry of sudden movement and a hefty bang across the room. Your eyes jumping open, Jimin has thrown the ring and the box into the wall. His frustration exploding in a rampage as he attacks your makeup table. Sweeping everything off it, stomping on anything fragile that hits the floor. Throwing the table over he hurls it into the wall, finishing it off by booting his shoe into the mirror over and over until it cracks.

Turning back to you, his hands curled up by his side, it's unnervingly apparent that he is fighting to restrain himself. Even now, as you lay in bed broken, in his rage he is still considering hitting you again.

But you're pretty sure he won't.

Jimin has just never been good at dealing with consequences and he is worse at dealing with the guilt that comes because of his actions. Without you pardoning him, he's going mental. Which is good, because that means he's learning.

"Whatever," he yells, "just fucking forget it." Barging out of the room he slams the door ferociously behind him.

He may be acting harsh, but you know that more than likely he will be going out to replace everything he just damaged. And he'll buy you something even better than a ring to say he's sorry.

And as long as he doesn't hit you again, you'll know that he really is sorry and in a couple more days when your mouth is healed, you will be able to forgive him. Then the two of you can move on from this and it will be as perfect as it can be.

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Covenant: Gains

Poly Sons of Ipswich x Reader

Word Count: 2,802

Summary: Trying to take advantage of their gym membership, reader starts working with a devastatingly attractive personal trainer. And his friend is pretty hot, too.  

The gym was still new for you but you had been coming consistently enough that you felt comfortable there. You knew what times equipment would be available and what times the crowds would be too much (week days 3-5:30 was like competing in the Hunger Games.)

Cardio always came before strength exercises because your muscles would be too fatigued otherwise. 

And on Tuesdays and Saturdays they played your favorite music on the loud speakers so you didn’t have to bother with headphones on those days.

Still, you weren’t an expert by any means. 

In fact, you were still hesitant to call yourself a gym-goer because you’d seen the workouts other people did and you definitely weren’t doing that. There was no strategy, you just did what you felt like doing on any given day. You were impressed by their discipline though.

Maybe, most likely, it would benefit you to incorporate some of that into your own routine.

The gym had a personal trainer program and you figured that would be the best bet—much easier than trying to figure it out on your own.

Poking around the website, you found the section that explained the process. The design was modern and intuitive, and it was easy to book an appointment: the only information you needed to provide was your name, the date/time, and what trainer you wanted.

The first two things were easy to fill out but the last had you a little stumped; you weren’t familiar enough with any of the trainers to request anyone by name even with the drop-down menu that listed out all of the choices. For a second, you were tempted to forget about the whole thing but luckily, there was an option for ‘no preference’ and anxiety levels dropped off as you selected it.

Appointment booked, you went on with the rest of your night, focus shifting to what sounded good to eat for dinner.

A week later, you found yourself in the gym’s front lobby, arms crossed and foot tapping. Since it was the first time, there was no harm in arriving early. The directions on the website had said to wait there for the trainer but so far there was no sign of them. Granted, there was still five minutes until the scheduled start so it would be unfair to start complaining about them just yet.

Rolling your neck to alleviate some of the tension, you paused mid-stretch, neck awkwardly craned like a gaggling turkey, when a man walked out. He was without a doubt the most attractive man you’d seen at the gym to date.

Thick dark hair that curled just above his ears. Warm brown eyes and an even warmer smile. Tanned skin that wrapped around arms that had just the right amount muscle: toned but not bulky. All in all, a good looking man.

You tracked him as he glanced around the area, looking for something—his eyes suddenly met yours and you straightened up in embarrassment—or someone. “Y/N?” he questioned.

You throat was so dry, it was painful to swallow. “That’s me.”

It didn’t seem possible but his smile grew even brighter. He stuck his hand out. “Nice to meet you. I’m Caleb and I’ll be your trainer today.”

Good karma most certainly at work here. How else could you explain being lucky enough to have the hottest guy in the gym be the trainer? Whatever the case, you weren’t going to look this particular gift horse in the mouth.

He gestured you forward with a wave of his hand and followed you to the main workout area. There was slight pressure to staying cool and collected with him behind you. 

“I’m going to start you off with some jogging to warm-up. Do you want to use the track or hop on a treadmill?”

“Treadmill is fine. It’s what I normally use.”

You stepped up onto the belt and fiddled with the settings to establish a pace you felt comfortable with. The machine started up with a loud hum and your arms and legs began to pump. Normally, you’d have your earphones in to distract yourself with music but they weren’t that day so that you could hear Caleb if he said anything to you.

Good thinking, really, since he did indeed start chatting.

“So how long have you been a member?” he asked.

Determined not to sound steady, you took a few moments to normalize your breathing. “About two months. But this is the first time I’ve worked with a professional,” you added at the end.

It was hard to hear his laugh over the treadmill but the hitching of his shoulders gave him away. “Thanks, but I’m not really a professional. I just have a training certification is all.”

Huh. Attractive and humble. If you weren’t careful, you’d develop a full-blown crush in no time.

“A certification sounds professional to me,” you insisted. There. That wasn’t flirty at all. You were merely sharing an opinion.

Jogging passed by faster than it usually did even without music. Evidently, all that was needed to make a run enjoyable was good conversation and an even better view. 

You powered off the treadmill and gradually transitioned to a walk and then a full stop. A single bead of sweat trailed down the side of your face but before you could wipe it away, only to stumble after being patted on the back by Caleb. 

Those muscles were not just for show.

You had mixed feelings about him giving you props for completing the warm up. On one hand, you were a little insulted because even you could handle jogging for ten minutes. On the other, it was nice to have him flatter you. And he seemed to type to mean his compliments.

“Thanks,” you said almost like a question as you plopped down to stretch.

“Really,” he insisted. There wasn’t any level of patronizing tone that you could detect. “You’d be surprised by how many people I work with that complain about running.”

“Really?” you exclaimed with surprise. “I wouldn’t say I love running but it’s not terrible. Better than swimming anyway.”

“Whoa, now. I’ll have you know that I was a big swimmer in high school.”

The friendly banter about the woes, or in his case, the highs of swimming got you through the stretches he showed you. Occasionally, there would be a pause while he corrected your posture but once you fixed your position, the banter started up again.  

Finally, you conceded, “I will admit that swimming did wonders for your shoulders though.”

He looked away with a bow of his head. He smiled but it was closed lipped, no teeth on display. Oops. That comment may have been a bit too forward. Rather than draw more attention to it, you diverted attention to the actual work out.

Seeming to be of the same mind, Caleb dropped it, too, and set you up at a weight bench. He must’ve have seen the doubt on your face.

“Don’t worry,” he assured. “I’m not going to have you squatting 300 pounds or anything crazy. Here. Take this and we’ll start with some dumb bell rows.”

He handed you a twenty-pound weight, the smooth metal cool against your palm. The weight was noticeable but not so heavy you struggled to hold it. A month or two of this and your arms would actually tone out pretty nice.

You peered subtly at Caleb behind you. You wouldn’t be at Caleb’s level, not just after a couple weeks but then again, you doubted most people could measure up to him even after working out everyday for a year straight.

Someone people had all the good genes.

You could’ve complained but found it much more enjoyable to appreciate the good view. In fact, it was the view that got you through the rest of the season.

“Thanks,” you panted around the mouth of your water bottle. A bead of sweat ran down your neck and you reached to wipe it off.

“You did great, really,” he said, the epitome of what a good trainer should sound like. “The scariest step is always to start so signing up for additional personal training will be a piece of cake.”

“Y-yeah.” Suddenly, your shoe laces fascinated you. “So…if I want to do that—more of this...do I choose you on from that list of trainers?”

“Sure thing. Or if you’d prefer to try someone else, all of the trainers are fantastic choices.”

“I think I’ll stick with you. As long as that’s not weird or anything…”

“Nope, not weird.”

You worked up the courage to look him in the eyes. Swirling irises of molten brown, you couldn’t help but be drawn into them. “Same time next week then?”

“Same time next week,” he agreed with a nod.

***

It had been a little over a month since you had started working with Caleb at the gym and what had started as one personal training session a week had turned into two, sometimes three. Improvement was happening steadily and you definitely felt a difference in your stamina.

Strangely enough, you were even proud of the small callouses that were starting to develop on the tops of your palms, under the fingers. They weren’t classically beautiful but at least you had proof of the work you were doing.

Having worked up the confidence, you’d also started doing some of the exercises Caleb showed you on your own. It was on one such day that you met him.

Another gym babe.

The first thing you noticed was his ass. Literally. He was in prime squat position and his short, though knee length and loose as they may be, could not hide his toned glutes.

You were embarrassed to admit that you were totally ogling him, like a dog looked at a prime cut of meat. You didn’t get star struck often, but damn.

The universe must have sought to punish you for the lack of propriety and your mp3 slipped through your sweaty fingers onto the moving treadmill, yanking the earphones out of your ears along with it as it flew backwards on the conveyor belt.

Recovering from the stumble your mp3 caused, you turned off the machine and gingerly picked out the music player, preparing for the worst.

Miraculously, the screen was still in tact and sounds was still coming through the earphones. You took another sigh of relief when you realized he was preoccupied by his own workout and hadn’t seen your embarrassing moment.

Something similar happened the next time you saw him a few days later: he was cooling down after having thoroughly trounced the heavy bag in the small boxing set-up the gym had. His arms looked so good in his cut-off tank (muscles and veins were all on display) that you froze with your mouth hanging wide open.

Another gym-goer did catch you that time but at least it wasn’t the god sculpted from marble.

You almost felt bad, like you were cheating on one of your crush’s with another which was ridiculous because Caleb was just a trainer and you didn’t even know the other one’s name.

Who knew that so much drama could happen in the confines of a simple neighborhood gym? Seriously, The Bachelor wished it could have as many good options as the gym seemed to.

***

You huffed as you pushed yourself up on increasing shaky arms. For a few seconds, you honestly didn’t think you’d be able to do it as your arms got stuck at a forty-five degree angle. Digging deep down, you managed to fully extend your arms.

“Nine,” Caleb counted. He was kneeling besides you on the yoga mat, counting, and adjusting your form here and there, while you did push-ups

Rather than descend slowly as was proper for push-ups, you collapsed to the mat with your arms squished underneath your chest. Rolled your head, you gave him your best pleading eyes and hoped he might take mercy.

That hope was misplaced. He gave a sympathetic smile and shook his head negatively. “Sorry, Y/N. We agreed on ten and by my count, you still have one more to go.”

“Can I not and say that I did?”

“Come on now. It’s only one more.” He waved his hands around like he was waving imaginary pom-poms. “You can do it!”

You managed a weak laugh. There was no way you could’ve say no. Your arms felt like they were burning but he looked adorable trying to be a cheerleader. An unbidden image of him wearing a cute male cheerleading uniform flashed in your mind and you thought he would pull one off well, what with his wide shoulders and sculpted legs.

Imagination got you through the last push-up and you groaned as you turned over on the mat, spread out like a star fish. “That was absolute torture.”

Caleb opened his mouth but was interrupted by a newcomer.

“Geez, man. You need to take it easier on your clients.”

Recognizing the voice, you found the other gym guy you’d been eyeing standing above you.

“Pogue.” Caleb held his fist out to the man who in turned bumped his with the trainer’s. Evidently, they knew each other.

Then they embraced in a full-on hug.

Okay, so they definitely knew each other. And it was hard to miss the parting caress to Pogue’s shoulders—what kind of name was Pogue anyway?—that was generally reserved for two people that were close.

Were they related? Dating, perhaps?

Your imagination fired up again and you wondered what they would look like wrapped even more intimately with one another…which was entirely despicable, you reminded yourself. There was no proof they were romantically involved, and, even if they were, it was none of your business.

The other two, who had been talking while you were maladaptively fantasizing, had continued talking and their conversation now turned to you.

“So who’s this?” Pogue questioned politely.

“This is Y/N,” Caleb introduce you. “They’re one of the people I work with.”

Pogue stuck his hand out to shake. “Nice to meet you. I’m glad Caleb hasn’t killed you off yet.”

“Hey! I am extremely fair with workouts, aren’t I, Y/N?”

“He is,” you said with a small smile, rocking on your feet. “Besides, he way too nice to ever become a drill sergeant.”

Pogue shoved Caleb lightly and Caleb elbowed him in return. “I know he doesn’t look like the type, but he was quite the drill sergeant back when we were both swimmers. He just hides the competitive instinct under his charming smiles.”

That peaked your curiosity. “No way, you guys swam together back in the day?”

“Spencer Academy was state champs three years running in our time,” Caleb admitted. “But nowadays I do my thing with personal training and Pogue more into MMA.”

“MMA?” you questioned.

“Mixed Martial Arts,” Caleb supplied. “You’ve probably seen him hogging the punching bags in the back.”

You most certainly had but you weren’t about to confess that to either of them. It would be too embarrassing and might even toe the line of harassment.

“You are more than welcome to share bags with me, any time,” Pogue grinned teasingly.

A thought hit and flowed out of your mouth before you could stop it. “You guys should give me a lesson sometime.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you were interested in that sort of thing,” Caleb said, surprise coloring his voice.

“Are you saying that you don’t think I can?” You weren’t sure what made you say it. It’s not like you were hardcore dedicated to trying it. 

Whatever the cause it had Pogue chiming in save the situation.

“What prince charming means is that we would love to give a demonstration sometime.”

Caleb down at his watch because of course he still wore one instead of just using his phone like most other people. “Damn. Our hour is up Y/n and I’m late getting my next client. But we can hit the punching bags next time, if you want…?”

“Sure. Uh. Does Wednesday work for you?”

Both of the men nodded and Caleb called over his shoulder as he jogged to the lobby. “It’s a date. Schedule it online and I’ll approve it.”

The word kept replaying over and over. Date. Date. Date, date, date. He probably didn’t even mean it like that but it didn’t stop your heart from fluttering.

Waving goodbye to Pogue wit a promise of seeing him next week, you bounced off to grab your phone from the locker room. There was nothing wrong with scheduling your next session ASAP.

It’s a date.

_______________

Pogue boxing does make a fetching image. Pogue and Caleb in the ring sparring together even more so. Debating whether to make a part 2. 

Caleb always seems to be the hardest for me to write so I hope he sounded okay in this. This has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I decided to finally post it. 

Thanks for reading! 

[study-coffee-chicago]

Seasons of Med: Season 1: Glad I Didn’t Make it that Far (A Halstead brothers + Halstead sister! imagine)

Trigger warning: Talk of eating disorders

As always, I do not own any quotes from Chicago Med 1x04 that show up here!

Your age: 14

Jay's age: 28

Will's age: 30

"We should go to a movie," your best friend Emma suggested when you were sitting on the playground of Central Chicago's elementary school one summer day.

You had been coming here since it was pretty close to your house to be able to read without worrying that your dad would show up drunk. He wasn't violent, he was just rude, asking why there was no food and when you explained it was because he wasn't going shopping, he'd scoff and tell you to get a job if you wanted to eat. It wasn't your fault; you'd tried to get a job, but no one would hire you because you were only fourteen. Most places required that you be at least sixteen and the occasional place would let you start at fifteen, but only with very limited hours. And, the places that let you start at fifteen were too far away for you to walk to. You'd have to take the El...and that would turn out badly if Will and Jay found out, even though your dad wouldn't care in the slightest.

"Em, I don't have any money. I'm literally rationing out my feminine products at this point."

"Hey, just tell me if you need any. Me or my mom can get you some. Oh, and some neighbors of mine run a little kettle corn company. They're looking for some extra help on the weekends and they'll pay you under the table. I can give you their number if you want."

"Really?" Emma smiled and nodded. "Yes, please! And, you're the best."

But, what you didn't tell her was that you hadn't eaten since yesterday since there was barely anything in your house and that your cramps were killing you and because of all this, you were feeling nauseous.

"Let's go to the movies. My treat."

"I can't let you pay for me."

"Yes, you can. Best friends help each other out. Now c'mon, let's go." You sighed and closed your eyes as you stood up. "You good?" Emma asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just dizzy."

"You wanna go home?"

"No, no I'm fine. Just seasonal allergies from all the pollen," you lied.

"Okay, let's go."

You started to slow down as you got closer to the movie theater. "I'm so excited to see The Longest Ride!" Emma squealed. "Scott Eastwood is just mwah!"

"Yeah, but he's- he's a lot-- I gotta, I gotta sit down," you stuttered, starting to feel more lightheaded and seeing your vision become blurry at the edges.

"Okay, let's get to the front where you can sit on the curb."

You slowly started to make your way there, but it was too late. "Em- Emma," you slurred as you tried to reach for her as your legs gave out underneath you, and then everything went black.

"Y/N!" Emma yelled as she squatted down next to you and pulled out her phone.

Just then, everyone started running out of the theater shouting something about a shooting.

***

Will's pager went off as he was eating with Natalie and the rest of the team from a taco truck outside of Chicago Med. And, everyone else's pagers were going off, too, making it sound like alarm clocks that were all set for the same time. Then, Maggie ran outside.

"Shooting in a movie theater! Mass casualties! It's about to get crazy!" she yelled to the doctors and other nurses. "EMTs are four minutes out!"

Not even a second after she finished her sentence, an ambulance pulled up with lights flashing and sirens blaring.

"Check that!" Will yelled as he threw his food in the trash can. "They're here!"

Then, all of them sprinted into the hospital, their main focus now being saving as many lives as possible.

"Another maniac gone crazy in a theater," Will said as he put something over his scrubs to keep them from getting blood all over them. "Is this the world we live in?"

***

You slowly opened your eyes to be met with the white ceiling and an IV in your arm. You groaned. "Where am I?" you asked as you rolled over to see Emma sitting on a bench. "Are we in an ambulance?"

"You don't remember?" Emma asked.

"You passed out, sweetie," a female paramedic told you as she put a blood pressure cuff around your arm. "Luckily for you, we came pretty quick after hearing about the shooting."

"The shooting? There was a shooting?"

"In the movie theater," the paramedic answered you. "You were lucky you didn't go in."

"Guess so."

Your eyes widened as you realized they were probably taking you to Chicago Med. You couldn't let your brother know that the most likely reason for you passing out was that you hadn't eaten since yesterday. They'd freak out.

"Am I good to go when we get to the hospital? I feel fine." You were still nauseous, but that was better than being passed out.

"You passed out, we need to get you checked out at the hospital."

"But I feel fine," you protested.

"I understand that, sweetie. But you need to get checked out anyway to make sure that there wasn't something that made you pass out other than the heat."

"She's right, Y/N," Emma said. "You need to get checked out."

You huffed. "Fine." Maybe Will would be too busy to even notice you were there. And, you figured your dad wouldn't pick up his phone, so you could just sneak out undetected when the doctors and nurses weren't watching.

When you got in, you were met by Natalie. "Y/N?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"

"It's nothing. I just passed out. I'm fine, really."

"Shoot," Emma said. "My mom's here to pick me up. Said she doesn't want me here because of all the press since I'm not hurt. I'm sorry."

You waved your hand. "It's fine. Hopefully, I'll be getting out here soon, too. See you later."

"Bye, Y/N."

"If you passed out, you're not fine, Y/N," Natalie said.

As you were wheeled past a trauma room, you saw your brother. Luckily for you, he was too focused on his patient that he didn't notice.

"Want me to get Will?" Natalie asked when she saw you glance in there.

"No! I mean, he looks really busy and I'm not dying. They should be the first priority."

"Okay, well I'll have Maggie call your dad because after all the standard tests, if I need to do more, I'm going to need your dad's permission since you're still a minor."

"Okay."

"Hey, Maggie," Natalie called, "Do me a favor and call Y/N's dad for me. I just might need permission to run some additional tests."

"You got it."

You got on the bed in the treatment room and allowed Natalie to listen to your heart and lungs. "Were you part of the crush?" she asked. "Did you get the wind knocked out of you? Is that why you passed out?"

"No, I got dizzy before we could get inside. I felt nauseous, too, but I think that was just from period cramps."

"The paramedics said you were dehydrated and that they had to administer an IV. Have you been eating and drinking properly? I know it's hot and that can cause you to pass out. Other than that factor, have you been eating and drinking normally?"

"Yes," you lied.

"Okay, I'm just going to need to get your height and weight and other vitals before we continue."

You nodded and followed her to where she took your height and weight. She wrote it down and you started to walk out, but she stopped you. "Uh, Y/N, come with me."

You followed her to the doctor's lounge where she handed you her sweatshirt. "Why are you giving me this?"

"You bled through your shorts. There's free pads and tampons in the bathroom if you don't have any on you."

You nodded. "Thank you."

"Meet me back here once you're finished."

"Okay."

When you got into the bathroom, you took all the pads and tampons you could fit in your shorts pockets after you had finished changing your dirty one.

Now, it was time for your great escape. No one would see you; they were all too busy treating other patients and worrying about the press.

You were almost out into the waiting room, but then a voice stopped you.

"Y/N?"

Shit. Jay.

You stopped in your tracks but then continued walking.

"Y/N, I know you heard me. Come back."

You sighed and turned around, hoping you wouldn't have to spill all the secrets about what's been happening at home.

***

"Poor guy," Erin said as she and Jay exited Sharon Goodwin's office. "He thought what he was going was right."

"I probably would've done the same thing if I were in his shoes," Jay agreed. "I mean, if I thought I saw a guy with an AR-15 in a movie theater and then thought the shots from the movie were coming from the gun, I sure as hell would've acted. Not that my service weapon can shoot bullets off as much as my sniper, but I'd try. Try and save civilians."

"Jay." Erin placed a hand on his arm. "You're not in Afghanistan anymore."

"I know. There's just some sick and twisted people in this world. Why would someone go into a theater with a leaf blower anyway? With all the mass shootings that have happened, that's probably the stupidest idea I've heard."

"I agree with you. But he's just a kid. He didn't ask to get shot. But, if I were in that teacher's shoes, I'd probably do the same thing and draw my gun."

Jay furrowed his eyebrows as he saw someone walking towards the exit of the ED and towards the waiting room. She had shorts and a t-shirt on with a burgundy sweatshirt tied around her waist. Jay wouldn't have given it a second thought, but he knew you had the same gray beat-up Converse because he had gotten them for you for a birthday present two years ago and you always wore the same polka dot scrunchie when you needed your hair to be in a bun and needed it to be tight.

"Is that?..." Erin trailed off.

"I think so," Jay answered, quickening his pace to catch up with you before you got out of the ED and he lost sight of you due to the number of people in the waiting room. "Y/N!" he yelled.

The girl he thought was you froze for a split second and then continued walking, this time at a faster pace. That was all the confirmation he needed. "Y/N, I know you heard me. Come back."

You sighed and turned around.

"I was going to tell you," you mumbled once you were in front of him.

He scoffed and crossed his arms across his chest. "Yeah? And when were you planning on calling Dad? You know you're a minor so a parent needs to be notified."

"Y/N!" Natalie yelled. "I thought you left, I was so close to getting security to look for you. We couldn't get a hold of your dad and were going to call Jay since he's your secondary emergency contact, but he's here now, so if both of you could follow me then that'd be great."

"You got it from here, Erin?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, text me if you need me to pick you up and bring you back to the district."

"Will do. Don't let Voight bust my balls because I skipped out."

"I'll tell him Y/N had a medical emergency. He'll understand."

"Thanks."

You, Natalie, and Jay walked back into the treatment room where Natalie had been previously treating you.

"First of all, let me just say it was not a medical emergency," you told your brother.

"Oh yeah? Then why are you here?" he asked.

"I was feeling nauseous."

"And you came to the ED just because of some nausea?" He raised an eyebrow. He so knew you were lying.

Meanwhile, Will was walking out of a trauma room after Rhodes brought a victim up to surgery.

"Hey. You hear?" Reese asked as she walked up to the doctor. "The kid at the theater, the one who got shot, he didn't have a gun, he had a leaf blower."

"What?" Will asked, stunned. He had worked on that kid and knew that it wasn't good.

"Yeah, turns out it was some kind of prank." She was about to turn around to leave, but then stopped. "Oh, and your sister's here. Treatment one."

"What? Why?"

"I think she passed out or something. Dr. Manning's in there with her right now."

"Thanks, Reese."

Will barged into your treatment room. "So, she comes into the ED and nobody has the common decency to even notify me?" he asked rhetorically.

"You were busy treating other patients, Will. I was going to get around to it eventually," Natalie said.

"Natalie, please just finish explaining what happened. Or just start from the beginning because Will's here now," Jay suggested, not wanting to have to break up an argument between the two doctors.

Now it was Will who was the one who crossed his arms over his chest.

"So, Will, what happened was that Y/N passed out. She was almost inside the movie theater, but she passed out, so she didn't go in."

"The movie theater where the shooting happened?" Jay asked. You nodded. "Jesus, kid, if you would've gotten inside, you would've given both me and Will heart attacks."

"Sorry. But, I'm glad I didn't get that far."

"Yeah, us too," Will agreed. "So, why'd she pass out?"

"Can I talk to you two for a minute? Outside?"

They nodded. "Be right back," Jay told you.

"So, what's going on?" Jay asked once the three were safely outside of the room and out of earshot from you.

"Have you noticed anything strange with her eating habits lately? Any skipping meals? Going to the bathroom right after meals? Not wanting to eat?" Natalie asked the two brothers.

"No, nothing," Jay answered. "Granted, we don't eat with her a lot because she lives with our dad and we both live on our own."

"Okay, because since her physical check-up a month and a half ago, Y/N's lost fifteen pounds."

"Fifteen?" Will asked, flabbergasted.

"I thought she looked smaller, but I just thought I was hallucinating from lack of sleep because of all the crazy cases we've had," Jay said.

"No, she's lost fifteen pounds since her last check-up," Dr. Manning reiterated.

"So, what are you saying?" Will asked. "Our sister's anorexic? Bulimic?"

"I'm not saying any of those yet. But, I talked to Dr. Charles while Y/N was in the bathroom and she said to try and have her eat something, like the greasiest thing you can find in the cafeteria, and see what she does. We'll even leave the room after to chat and I'll have Maggie keep an eye on the bathrooms to see if she goes in there. If she refuses to eat or freaks out over it, then we might be dealing with anorexia. If she goes into the bathroom after, we might be dealing with bulimia. Or, it could be a combination of the two or just possibly her trying to lose weight. Has she ever mentioned wanting to lose weight to either of you?"

"No, not all," Jay answered. "Even when we went out after her last day of school, which I think was about two weeks after she had that physical, she ate a ton and she didn't go to the bathroom right after."

"But you did go home right after," Will pointed out.

"Yeah."

"But, with some bulimics, if they know that the food has already been digested, they won't try to purge. And, it sounds like the food had time to digest."

"Alright, I'll go grab her a bacon cheeseburger."

"And a side of mac n cheese," Jay suggested. "She loves that stuff." Will started to walk out, but Jay stopped him once more. "Can you pick me up a bacon cheeseburger, too? I'm hungry."

Will rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but just so you know, you're paying me back."

"I know," Jay said and then went back inside the treatment room.

"Where's Will?" you asked.

"He's getting you some food. How does a bacon cheeseburger and mac n cheese sound?"

God, your mouth watered just at the thought of the bacon cheeseburger alone. The juicy patty, melty cheese, and crispy bacon, yum. And, you hadn't had a burger in who knows how long.

"That sounds amazing honestly," you answered.

"Okay, good because that's what Will's getting you." He paused. "Is everything okay with Dad? Everything good at home?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," you lied.

"Did someone tell you that you were fat at all?"

Shit, he knew I'd lost weight. "No," you answered. "I guess I'm not just mindlessly snacking when I'm doing homework anymore. It's not like I'm trying to lose weight."

No way were you going to tell him that there was rarely any food in the house, not here anyway.

"Okay, good," Jay answered. Then, he looked out of the room to see Will talking with Natalie. But, they were close enough that you could hear them, so you turned your attention to the two as well.

"Hey, Nat," Will said, carrying a bag with three cheeseburgers and a side of mac n cheese.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"I'm thinking, I only live a mile from you. So, when you go into labor, call me. I'll drive you here."

"Thanks, but...you know it could be three in the morning, right?"

"Sleep's overrated anyway."

Then, Will made his way back into your treatment room. "I wanna take you to the hospital," Jay mocked. "Very smooth, Will, very smooth."

"Will's got a crush, Will's got a crush," you said in a sing-song voice.

"Would you two knuckleheads keep it down? And no, I do not have a crush, I was just trying to be helpful."

Jay scoffed. "Yeah right. You totally have a crush on her, man. Now, give us the food and we won't say anything."

***

"Everything seem normal?" Natalie asked Will as Jay was still sitting with you after the three of you had finished your food.

"Yeah, she ate a little faster than normal, but we waited an hour and she didn't even get up to go to the bathroom, so I don't think that's the issue. She told Jay she wasn't trying to lose weight. She said she just wasn't mindlessly eating anymore when she was doing homework. But, I don't think that could make her lose fifteen pounds. Do you?"

"No. But unfortunately, given her height and age, she still has a normal BMI, so we can't do anything."

"Yeah, I get it. Me and Jay will keep an eye on her. It was around this time when our dad just kind of checked out on parenting us."

"What do you mean?"

"He wouldn't cook or really help us with anything. But, it was okay because our Mom was still around, so she'd cook and help us with things. He just thought we were old enough to deal with stuff on our own."

"Things that a teenager without another parent still needs help with."

"Exactly."

Jay poked his head out of the room. "Everything good? Y/N's asking when she can leave."

Will rolled his eyes. "Wonder where she gets that from."

"Shut up."

"I'll grab you the discharge papers," Natalie said and then walked to a nurse's station.

Just then, Will's pager went off. "I gotta go." He fished into the pocket of his scrubs. "You can take my car home and then just come pick me up from work and we can drive back to the district to get your truck. That way you don't have to bug Erin."

"Thanks, man. Go save some lives."

Natalie came back and handed him the discharge papers.

"Thanks, Nat. Me and Will will be sure to keep an eye on her, maybe have her over for dinner once or twice a week to monitor her eating habits."

"That's a good idea. Good luck with all this. Will told me that this was around the time that your dad clocked out on you, so maybe pay him a visit when Y/N's not there and check? I don't know if that's something you'd want to do or not."

Jay nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

"No problem."

Jay signed the discharge papers and then walked back into the room. "Good news."

"We can leave?" you asked excitedly as you sat up.

"We can leave," he confirmed.

***

You got out of the car and stood on the stoop of your house, Jay right next to you. "Jay," you started, "I have to tell you something."

"Okay, what is it? You can tell me anything."

You opened your mouth to tell him that there was barely any food in the house and that your dad refused to buy you feminine hygiene products because, by his logic, if he had another son, he wouldn't need to buy them, so you should buy them yourself.

But then, the door opened, revealing your dad.

"I was just going to say thanks for staying with me at the hospital. I would've left if you didn't stop me."

"You're welcome."

"Care to tell me where you've been?" your dad asked.

You knew he was just putting on a show because Jay was there.

"I was at the park and then me and Emma were going to see a movie and then--" your phone buzzed, alerting you that you had a text message.

"I've got it from here, Y/N. Dad, can I come inside?"

Pat Halstead nodded and you walked inside followed by your brother. "I'm gonna go upstairs and change," you said.

As you walked past the kitchen, you noticed a bunch of grocery bags, all of them full. He must've gone grocery shopping. At least you didn't have to worry about food for the next few days. But, you didn't know if he just did that because he finally listened to his voice mails and heard that you were in the hospital and were worried that they were going to find out that he was an unfit parent or because he finally came to his senses and realized that he was still responsible for you because you were a minor, which meant he needed to have food in the house.

As you walked upstairs, you checked your phone. It was Emma's neighbor asking if you could start helping her with kettle corn this Saturday. You responded with a yes because now, if your dad went back to not buying groceries, at least you'd be able to buy some for yourself.

A/N: Sorry this one was so short! It's kind of just to foreshadow the next installment of this. And, in the next installment, I will probably combine Seasons of PD: Season 4 and Seasons of Med: Season 2 because the storylines kind of go together. Anyway, thank you for reading! Please reblog/like and comment and tell me what you think! As always, if you want to be added to the taglist, just tell me and I’ll be happy to add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e 

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Interviews - Henry Cavill x wife/actress reader

Summary: You and Henry have been married for a couple years now, and when you’re both part of the Witcher cast, fun interviews are to be had.

Warning: nothing but a good time, btw I’ve never written anything like this so I hope it’s good enough that I might feel motivated to write more

-Readers Witcher character is loosely based off my Geralt fic from here (just a little self promotion), but in this case you play a full vampire in this Witcher universe

The days have been long and grueling, filming hours upon hours of stunts and regular acting had taken its toll. Not to mention the countless times in hair and make up paired with costume changes and traveling to film on certain locations.

To say being apart of Netflix’s The Witcher was full of tiring days and some accidental bruises would be a huge understatement. But none of that mattered, nor did you bother to complain when through the thick and thin of it all did you have Henry with you along the way. And your favorite big slobbery bear, Kal whenever he was allowed on set.

Fortunately for you in the beginning of all the craziness, the casting and writers had wanted you specifically for the part of Y/C/N in the new series before Henry even auditioned for the role of Geralt, that was soon given to him after you accepted your fresh role of vampiric heroine.

It was ironically strange in a good way, you had watched your dork of a husband play the Witcher: Wild Hunt a few times before, eventually learning of what Geralt of Rivia was, who Y/C/N was in the story, who Yennefer and Ciri were, Tris and even Jaskier.

Who would have thought that you’d finally get to snag a role side by side with Henry in quite literally one of the most fantastic shows you’ve ever heard of. You didn’t even need to see the show yet to know how well it was most likely to be reviewed. Being a key character in the grand storyline was enough to convince you of how amazing it would most certainly turn out in the finished product.

And after all was said and done, you couldn’t believe how well loved and popular the show truly became in the following months after shooting and its eventual release onto Netflix. The after parties and cast celebrations truly made you blessedly grateful for pulling through to the vary end.

Then again you had your mans Henry by your side every step of the way. He was your rock and you were most definitely his. You know life on set would have been far less entertaining and dreadfully long if not for the lovely company of your dear Witcher, Henry. And so far after the fact, you and a good portion of the cast have been placed in random interviews for the majority of the day.

Reason being, The Witcher has at long last finally premiered and as per usual the people and media live for those cast interviews that always reveal some interesting events. So far this morning you’ve done some interviews with Anya that have gone perfectly fine since the two of you seem to click so well.

Also it helps ease the anxiety of your fellow newer cast mates to the world of continuous interviews with an experienced veteran actor like yourself, who’s gone round the ring more times then you can count. Though you can’t help but wonder how Henry’s doing, considering you’ve been separated since the sessions began at 10am, you’ve had lunch and now it’s about 1 in the afternoon with more hours to go.

Luckily for you, you’ve just been informed of another interview with the man of the hour himself. Saying your goodbyes and well wishes to your fellow cast mates, you stand and follow the guide into the advised place. Aka some really nice hotel room that’s been done up real nice for efficient interviewing, complete with the Witcher insignia on a large background poster and three chairs that happen to look rather comfy.

The camera and sound people nod in acknowledgment as you walk in, you nod back no doubt making their day with your friendliness and adorable smile that quite literally lights up a room. Soon you spot the bubbly yet nervous interviewee who instantly welcomes you into her space like you’re an old friend.

You sit, a bit confused as to where your partner happens to be at the moment, the interviewer, Lauren makes small talk before a door opens and her big bright doe eyes go wide in nervous excitement. A telling smile upon her face as she shifts in her chair before looking back to you again with a happy grin.

Henry says a quick hello to the behind the scenes crew before waving to Lauren, you smirk while watching him get comfortable next to you, “Well, well, well. Get lost on your way up, you know they have guides for a reason.” You tease as he chuckles at your humorous jab, relieved to see you again after a couple hours apart.

“Traffic.” He quips with a shrug.

“Uh huh.” You mutter with a shake of your head before drawing your attention back to Laura, “Can’t take him anywhere I swear, he does this all the time.”

She laughs as Henry pretends to gasp at your teasing, you chuckle along with them before she finally collects herself, “Well, welcome back to London. It’s fantastic to have you both in town once again, and your big beautiful faces all over Leicester Square.”

You both laugh, “Right.” Says Henry, “I guess we do look pretty cool.”

“Hell yeah, I mean where else can I see myself with a giant sword on a building? And anyways look at this beautiful mug,” You say gently squeezing Henry’s cheeks in your hand, “he’s literally killing it out there.” They laugh as you give Hen another playful squeeze before letting go and setting your arm against the chairs cushioned armrest. 

“Alight let’s start.” She says enthusiastically before glancing down at her cards then back up to you and Henry. Then into one of the two the cameras, “Hi I’m Lauren from Entertainment Weekly and today we’re here with the two stars of Netflix’s The Witcher.” She says enthusiastically while giving a nod to you two, indicating that the camera is now focused on you both, “Henry Cavill and Y/N Cavill.”

You both smile in acknowledgment as Henry gives a slight nod, “How you doing?”

“I’m great,” She beams, “So, I’ll get right into it, what do you like most about the story? What really drew you into the script that made you say, yes this is going to be awesome?”

Slapping a hand against Henry’s muscular leg, you hum, “I’ll let Hen take this one he’s a real expert on the linguistics of the whole show.”

“Thanks Y/N/N.” Replies Henry, bemused that you’re making him take the first question.

You nod to him knowingly with a smirk, “Of course.” Knowing how much he loves to talk about the show and also because you’d rather have him use his energy to talk about it then do that yourself. Priorities, right, though in your defense it’s been a long day.

“Well I absolutely love the games and the books themselves are phenomenal works of literature.” He explains, his face glowing with that usual glimmer of excitement in his eyes, “The story and the world of the Witcher is just so rich and full of potential that when I signed on for the show, I immediately knew it would be amazing, no doubt.”

You lean into the arm of you chair, “And of course I was there so that’s always a bonus.”

“That too.” He smiles adorably, “That too of course.”

Lauren smiles, “Great. So, what was it like working together, how was it having your characters interact with one another?”

You smile, setting a hand against Henry’s forearm, “This guy right here.” You deadpan before waving him off dramatically, “So annoying, my god he whined all the time and he was such a drama queen dear lord so ugh....” You start cackling before you can even finish the sentence causing Henry to loose it as well and with that the interviewer.

Shaking your head you rest your hand against his shoulder, “I joke, he was a gem to work with as usual...I mean I feel incredibly blessed to be able to act alongside my husband for months and months every single day. It’s a rarity in this line of work and I’m grateful to have shared this experience...and I guess more so this whole adventure with him as well.”

The interviewer aww’s as Henry tilts his head to lean into your hand that’s still resting atop his shoulder before pulling away just as quickly, the intimate sentiment not going unnoticed by you or Lauren who looks to be enjoying your loving yet calm energy with one another. “That’s so sweet, what about you Henry?”

“Oh yes absolutely,” Agrees Henry to your recent statement, “not only did I have her by my side through it all but the dynamic of our characters interacting together was so fun to shoot. I think the audience will really be able to see their relationship grow on screen into something strong and beautiful like in the books.”

Slow clapping you give him a curt nod of approval, “Well said.”

Lauren smirks, “Seems like it. Well, I was able to catch the premier yesterday and I gotta say...it was fantastic! I couldn’t believe how diffident the two of you looked from how you are now.” She gushes enthusiastically.

The corners of Henry’s lips curl into a proud smile for the fellow crew of the Witcher’s, “Oh that’s great then, honestly we gotta give all the props to the costume and makeup team, they’re so talented and know how to make us look like real badasses.” He adds.

You nod in agreement before grinning at a positive memory of your first interaction with Henry as Geralt, “Oh for sure, I remember during the early stages of production when our characters met each other for the first time, before this we came to set together but went separate ways to shoot our own stuff in the meantime so I never got a real look at him.” You recall with a bright smile as Henry watches your every move, beaming just the same.

“It was so funny, I was in the tent with Freya Allen, the wonderful girl who plays Ciri, and then suddenly her eyes got all big and nervous and I was like, that’s not me right? Something weird didn’t just happen with my costume? And then I turned around to find this man, wig on, face a mess, and his eyes looked so fearsome and different...it was a bit startling.” You say with a chuckle, “I clearly wasn’t expecting to see Geralt right then and there. He just looked so unlike Henry.”

“Yeah, I was almost hurt.” Laughs Henry, “She had to like squint and make sure it was me.”

Rolling your eyes, you shrug, “He had some real creepy looking colored contacts, yunno?”

Henry fake scoffs, “You’re one to talk, I mean when I first say her, Y/N’s eyes were red and she had fake blood spattered all over her face and shirt. Oh, and not to mention those fangs they put on your teeth...we probably traumatized poor Freya that day.”

“Oh shit you’re right!” You exclaim with a snort of concealed laughter, “God I completely forgot about how I looked...now since I think about it, I did that a lot too. I would just walk up to people and be completely oblivious as to what kind of nightmare I looked like, honestly I might have scared one of our producers a couple of times.” You add with a half nervous laugh, it’s true, you did scare some of the crew unintentionally. Most of the time.

Lauren lightly chuckles, “That sounds like you were quite the sight to see then.” She says before glancing back down at her notes, “Alright I have’ta ask, is there anything that you two took home with you from set?”

“Besides Henry every night,” He holds back a laugh while covering his mouth as you nonchalantly continue, “Uh, yes actually I got to take home Y/C/N’s wolf ring that I loved so much and just thought was the coolist thing ever and....uh, I might have stolen some socks too.”

“So that’s why after filming the amount of socks of yours I had to fold increased?” Wonders Henry with a surprised snort of realization.

Turning your head to give him a “no shit” kinda look, you look back at Lauren, pointing your thumb at Henry, “Master sleuth right here, but hey, he folds my laundry.”

“Aw that’s great.” Adds Lauren with a smile before turning her attention to Henry, “What about you Henry? Take anything from set?”

“More then Y/N did actually...”

“He just about took the whole makeup trailer most nights, I swear.”

Henry chuckles, “That. Is true.” He agrees with a nod, “Interesting enough, at home I’ve got Geralt’s armor hung up in our living room and a multitude of other nicknacks that I’ve collected during filming.” He adds, glancing over to you, “So uh, yeah, we were fairly lucky to be able to snag what we could.”

Lauren smiles, absentmindedly shuffling her cards, “That’s awesome to have such special memorabilia, you guys really are fortunate.” She adds before reading off from another card, “Alright you two, care to play a game called guess the image? Witcher style.”

Your face perks up at this, you’re a sucker for interview games and Henry knows it, “Are you reading my mind or something, I have been waiting all day for someone to ask about playing a game.” You gush rather enthusiastically. 

He smiles at your adorableness and how excited you’ve just become, Lauren grins, happy that her suggestion has been so well received, “Okay so how it works is, I’ll show you an image on my iPad and then you have to guess who or what I’m showing you.”

“Oh, cool I’ve heard of this,” You reply, turning to Henry with a smirk, “Loser has to clean Kal’s yard poop for a week.”

Rolling his gorgeous blue eyes he chuckles, “You’re on.”

“Alright, the stakes are high, you two ready?” Beams Lauren, holding her iPad to her chest as she awaits an answer.

“Yes, I’m ready to kick his ass.” You quip, leaning an arm against your chair while Henry does about the same, though he does his best to contain his laughter.

“Okay, first image.” She holds up the device to show some sort of weird golden thing, it’s shiny and hard, worst part is that you’re not entirely sure what the hell it could be.

Sensing your confusion Henry nudges your shoulder, though you ignore it before he smartly answers, “Oh, is that...Renfri’s brooch?” Little shit knows exactly what that is, of course he does.

Lauren claps, “Correct.” Zooming out of the image to show the full picture of the golden brooch, “Right on, that’s one point for Mr. Cavill.”

You scoff playfully, “Beginners luck.” While Henry side eyes you with a humorous grin upon his plush lips, he nudges your arm, “I’m going to really enjoy not cleaning up Kal’s grass turds for awhile.” He mutters lightheartedly, though you know deep down he’s being serious, no way is he going to win this, you think. You won’t have it, hopefully the next few pictures aren’t as difficult, Kal duty is not fun by any means.

“Shut up.” You grumble with a dismissive wave of your hand, though just teasing of course.

“Okay next image.” This time the blurred photo looks much more familiar, soon it clicks as to what the obscured blurriness actually is, yes!

“Got it! Anya’s er I guess Yennefer’s dress from the fight at Sodden.” Lauren giggles, zooming the image out to reveal Yennefer in her tasseled blue and purple dress from the battle at Sodden Hill. “I’m amazing I know.” You boast at Henry with a casual little bow in your seat.

“It’s the second question.” He deadpans, eyes crinkling in amusement as you shake your head at him.

“Pffff get outta here.” You mutter back, gently pushing his arm off of your chairs armrest and setting yours in its place while he gives you a fake shocked expression.

In turn you can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips, so instead of saying some sassy remark that would no doubt get a reaction out of him, you turn your attention back over to Lauren who’s looking over her notes again.

“Fantastic,” She says, glancing back up at you and Henry, “you’re both tied with one point each. Alright, anyone know what this is?” She asks showing something red and fuzzy, a bit of dirty skin showing from one corner but with The Witcher this bloody image could literally be anything.

The both of you squint, puzzled as to what this could be, “Y/N you got any ideas.” Wonders Henry, brows furrowed as his face contorts into deep concentrated thought.

Raising a brow, you hum, “If I knew I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Fair point.” He chuckles.

Lauren smiles, “Any guesses?”

 After a few concentrated moments, Henry shrugs in defeat,  “I’m stumped.” He admits as you study the image harder, mind racing to put the pieces together as to what the hell you’re looking at.

“No, I think I might know this....erm is it...me?” You wonder, voice raising in question, hoping to be correct about this or face the teasing of Henry.

Lauren quickly zooms out of the obscured image, “It is!” She says excitedly, revealing the picture of you from your characters debut in episode 2 where you save a girl from a werewolf, your mouth is covered in blood and so is most of your costumes chest area and left arm from the struggle. Not to mention the make-up teams fun 20 minutes of throwing fake sticky blood all over you to get the right look for the taxing scene.

You grimace a bit, “Oh god that was quite the day on set,” You recall with a half smile, “I was doing stunts all day covered in that red syrupy dye, I think it took a week to get out of my skin.”

Henry suddenly snorts with laughter, “Right! That reminds me, I thought Kal had gotten cut or something, it was just Y/N who had hugged him not realizing she still had some fake blood on her arm.”

“Jeez that’s right, I felt so bad, but I couldn’t stop laughing once we realized it was just me.”

Lauren grins, excited to hear some hidden information about little things that happens behind the scenes, “Oh wow that must have been a sight, alright Henry, Y/N’s taken the lead with a two to one score.” She says as you playfully nudge his strong shoulder. “Second to last image, what is this?”

Without missing a single beat Henry replies, “Jaskier.”

Squinting at the image you lean closer to the iPad, “How the hell do you see Jaskier?”

Smiling the interviewer zooms out to reveal the bards full outfit from the banquet scene, though he’s in the background of a fight between Geralt and some Cintran knights. “Right on!” She exclaims as you lean back into your seat dumbfounded, shoulder flush against Henry’s as he clutches your arm and squeezes it affectionately.

Ignoring his silent show of victory you shrug, “And they say he’s just another pretty face,” Earning a laugh from Lauren and some of the crew as you smirk at the camera, face them shifting to apologetic, “also I’m so sorry Joey you beautiful bastard apparently I’m blind. Uh, we don’t have to dwell on it, Lauren whatcha got?”

“You guys are both tied with two points each, last chance to win.” She replies before glancing down at her iPad, “Alright, what is this?” She asks, her iPad showing that of fuzzy bright colors, with a small corner smear of dull white that clearly wouldn’t make much sense to the untrained eye.

Smirking you glance at a puzzled Henry before sitting up in your seat, feeling rather good about yourself, “Would that happen to be, Hen in Stregobor’s illusion?” You answer with, though sounding a bit as a question considering you aren’t entirely confident as to what image this is.

Lauren’s brows raise in surprise, “Henry, looks like we have a winner. Y/N you are correct.” She beams, enlarging the image to reveal Geralt’s side profile as he talks to the old wizard while the background stays colorful and shrouded in various arrays of sunlight..

Shaking your fist victoriously in the air you give a couple enthusiastic whoop whoops while Henry simply takes it like a champ, “Have fun cleaning up Karl’s monster turds, cause this lucky lady doesn’t have to.” You boast as Henry and the crew laugh.

“Well that was something,” Beams Lauren, “I’m so glad to have chatted for a bit about your guys’ amazing new series, and maybe ended a relationship in the process.” She says jokingly as both you and Henry chuckle.

Patting his thigh affectionately, you smirk, “He’s a tough old bear, but yeah, it was awesome having you talk to us.”

“Yes, take care now.” Adds Henry while the interviewer Lauren stands, saying her goodbyes as she goes to exit the room.

The camera crew take a small break to adjust things and whatnot as you and Henry wait patiently for the next interviewer. He turns, an adorable smile pulling at his lips while you pretend to ignore his fiery gaze. “Well that went pretty well, minus the fact that I’m on Kal poop duty for a week...but uh...” He leans in close to you now, “I missed you all morning.”

Breaking out into a smile you raise a brow, “Boring without me huh?”

“Always.”

You casually shrug, “I figured as much. Don’t worry, we have a hotel all to ourselves tonight.” Your brows wiggle suggestively causing your blue eyed lover to shake his head with amusement.

“Say it louder next time.” He jokes.

Side eyeing the oblivious crew you begin to speak a couple octaves louder, “Henry I can’t wait to fu..” Suddenly his hand presses against your mouth before you’re able to call any attention to yourself. He gives you a warning look before slowly pulling his hand from your mouth.

You grin mischievously, “I wasn’t gonna say that...”

“Sure Y/N,” He mutters in your ear as a new interviewer walks into the room and finds their chair, “and I’m wasn’t going to make you scream tonight.”

Your brows raise in surprise and admittedly slight arousal at his choice of wording in this room of all places. Eyeing him up, face still showing surprise, you finally break out into a satisfied smirk. “You know what? I think you should consider changing your offer.”

He thinks deeply for a moment, though you know he’s only pretending to get you riled up, “Hrmm...maybe, possibly, should I? Should we? You are my co-star after all, that wouldn’t be very professional now would it Y/N?” He states with a shit eating grin, all done while the crew and interviewer get ready, minding their business and completely unaware to yourself and Henry’s teasing.

Scoffing playfully you lightly swat his arm, “We are way past being professional.”

He chuckles, looking from you to the rest of the room, “Oh, they have no idea.”

[fabricated-misslieness]

pairing: chūya nakahara x lazy male reader

req: yes | wc: 1.87k | cw: nsfw, size difference, praise kink, biting, blood, dirty talk, belly bulging | minors dni

anon: Hi! I was hoping I could get a smut for chuuya if you could make it kinda of a part two from the other chuuya fic u have and if u can could u add a size kink and a praise kink if so thank you so much!

a/n: you thought the demon was a himbo, ha!

"You know these don't tend to last long." You send the man pushing you against the wall a wink, making sure he knows you're still top. Chūya chuckles in response.

"I'm prepared for that." Chūya gives you a smirk. You don't know it, but he doesn't mean it. He hopes it is only your sheer amount of power that attracts him to you, but he knows it's not true. He really isn't that keen on having this be a one time thing. He rather it be a long, loving relationship, keep it lasting for as long as he can; if he has to teach you commitment, he will.

You raise an eyebrow for a minute, judging his composure. "Mkay.. good. You need me to lift you, though? You're quite a way down."

Chūya huffs and rolls his eyes. With you, he's heard something along those lines about a million times. He can't control his height and he certainly can't control yours. Jeez, it's as if you were a giant. If you and him stood next to each other, he'd look like a child, not that he was that much taller than a child anyway.

"Oh shut up with that… but yes." As much as he didn't want to admit it, even though it was very clear, he couldn't kiss you from 'all the way down there'.

"Thought so." It's the shit eating grin on your face that makes him regret this. "Hold on to the horns will ya? You'll need the support."

"Doesn't bother ya?" Chūya asks, doing so anyway. They feel rather tough, like how he imagined crocodile scales to feel. Your wings, on the other hand, weren't as he'd imagined them to be. They felt like leather, despite the fact they looked like rubber. He couldn't fathom how hot they'd be in summer.

You shake your head, in turn moving his arms. "Nah. Anyway, what do you think about the fangs?" You momentarily open your mouth wider to show him. "Would you rather I don't bite you or I do?" They're not as sharp as say, a vampire or a werewolf, but they could definitely puncture.

"Maybe test them first?" You know, what he meant was that you bite his finger, or something, not his neck. It definitely stung, but it hadn't punctured. He was sure if you hadn't controlled your strength, he'd bleed. He hissed at the pain. Though it was nothing he couldn't handle, you'd taken him by surprise.

"My bad, precious." That was a new nickname. "What do you think? Did you like it? No judge if you're into it." The mention of a biting link made him think of some past lover with said kink. It sort of made him jealous.

"What if I find your sweet spot? Would that persuade you?" You bite his neck, finding the spot that made him moan. "Knew it. They're usually there." He hated the way you rubbed your past lovers in his face. In time, he'd make you forget. He was sure of that.

"Well?"

"Okay.."

"Would you look at that?" Chūya couldn't focus on anything right now, the pleasure, and pain, was too much. You would pester him for how long he took to adjust for sure. "I'm balls deep in you and I can actually see it." He hadn't registered that first part until now.

He looked down to see his stomach clearly bulging. He laughed at the sight of it. You were really a giant, in more ways than one. It was kind of.. hot though. The size difference was already turning him on, at this point it was a lot.

"Sexy." You remark, licking your lips. If it weren't for your dick, he would want that tongue in him.. again. "Can you even talk right now?"

Chūya chuckles, fixing you with a playful look before pulling you down by the horns. "Of course I can." He whispers in your ear.

"Good." You move the slightest bit, though to him it felt more than that, which urges a moan from his throat. "Although I'd like to see you try when I fuck you with no mercy."

Chūya is flustered to no end, but as the competitive guy he is, he can't just back down, even with your dick inside of him. "Is that what you say to everybody? 'Fuck you with no mercy'? How about 'fuck you 'till you're begging for hell?'"

You smirk, shaking your head to mess with his arms. His hands were surely indented with the pattern of your horns by now. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Are you ready now?" You were going to nag him about the time, just like he'd predicted. "You've been sitting on it for so long you could call it cockwarming. But maybe you're into that, haven't discussed the deets just yet."

"What can I do?" You laugh. "Your dick is big, you said so yourself."

"Then the details. What do you like?"

"P-Praise." He's a little nervous to admit it, what with the fact he acts like a tough cookie. He had to build up some courage for this moment.

You shift a bit as you think about it. All of a sudden, you start moving slowly. It's still quite a bit painful for Chūya, but your praise makes up for it. "You're doing good, baby." Your rough voice along with the way you grip his hips with your claws sends chills down his spine. "Just a bit more."

You chuckle, toying with the idea in your mind. You thrust a bit more, barely even containing yourself with how horny you are, before stopping to ask. "Like that?"

He had bitten his lips to keep his moans from coming out; he'd nearly drawn blood "Yeah, yeah, just like that." If his eyes weren't shut so tightly he'd be so much more flustered by the look you're giving him.

"Think you're ready yet?" The impatience was clear in your voice.

"Mm, yeah."

Your thrusts are slow at first, as a precaution. It was a wonder how you hadn't started going fast, though. You'd been in him for so long without moving that the impatience and anticipation were building up.

"You can go faster now." You smile, but you don't speed up, which confuses him. He was sure you wanted more, so why didn't you give him more?

"How much faster?" It's only now that he realizes it's a cheeky grin. 

Your sultry eyes seem to enchant him, making him unable to think properly; well, that and the thrusting. "I don't know."

"My terms, then." He doesn't like the sound of that. Luckily, you catch onto his uneasy look in time to reassure him, but your words don't do much. "Don't worry, you'll be just fine."

There's no warning after that. Your thrusts are quick and hard, just how you like them though only a little less than normal. After all, you'd gotten from, say, a 1 to a 7. Since when did you start calling your thrusts like a vibrator?

"You're doing good, baby!" He didn't know why, he did but he didn't know now, but he thought you'd sound more sarcastic.

His grip on your horns loosen and his arms feel weak. Just how vulnerable did you make him feel? He couldn't hold back from letting out a loud, high-pitched moan. It caused you to laugh, which he hated since he knew you were about to tease him. "High-pitched, just for me?"

He rolled his eyes at you, maybe a little bit because of pleasure, responding just as quick. "I mean you– oh! Holy shit!" He was interrupted by his own moans.

"What was that you were going to say?"

"Straying from– ah shit! Shit shit shit!" He repeated. That chuckle of yours made him realize you'd been hitting him hard on purpose to tease him. "Straying far from," He stops himself from moaning by biting his lips momentarily. "p-praise here."

You almost pout when he finishes his sentence, but you nod. "Right, sorry, precious~" You basically purr. “You’re taking my cock so well. Are you ready for more?”

“What?” You’d only just changed pace, so why would you- “Ah! Fuck me..” You hadn’t even given him time to answer, and you didn’t mean to either. This pace was the fastest, and roughest, Chūya had ever felt before, and god, did he love it. He could barely even form words, apart from curse words that were oh so familiar. The only thing that left his mouth were moans and he couldn’t even bite his lips.

“Mm, can’t talk anymore?” You weren’t really good at praise, were you? Well, it was new to you, since most of your lovers turned masochists at the sight of you. You didn’t make them, they just did. smug hoe

His arms, tired and a little sore, fall from your horns and grip your wings, which are wrapped around him. It causes you to hiss, but it’s a mere feeling in the back of your head from all the pleasure you’re getting. “Careful with those, darl.” You say with a chuckle. “You can’t break them in your state right now, but they still hurt.”

“S-Sorry.” He manages to say, continuing with moans afterward. They’re high pitched, most of them, as much as he tries to at least make them a little lower. 

“Oh? A word?” Your smirk is as much a nightmare as it is a dream. He wants to punch it off your face but also kiss it off your lips. “Right, right, praise. You take me in so well~” Chūya just barely manages a laugh.

“Ah, fuck!” Chūya shouts. He can feel himself getting closer and closer.

You smirk, moving to his neck, kissing and nipping. Your fangs sting his neck everytime you bite down, but you make sure to control yourself. Though sooner or later you’ll bite him and draw blood, it’s only inevitable.

“Go on, baby. Come loose for me, let me feel your seed on my abs.” You move to his ear, whispering and licking the lobe. 

Your words are what sends him over the edge of bliss. His seed spills all over the both of you, which is a turn on for sure; it moves with his constantly bulging belly. 

You close your eyes when you feel yourself coming closer. Instinctively, you move to his neck, giving him a harsh bite, which makes Chūya groan. You couldn’t control yourself from not biting him, even when his neck is already littered with other marks. Blood drips from the wound, two small holes.

It’s only when you go over the edge that you apologize. You move off of him, pulling him on top of you instead. He snuggles into your body, hissing in pain. “Sorry.” You move your wings to wipe the blood away.

“It’s fine… well, not really, but eh.”

You chuckle, keeping one wing on the wound and the other over the top of you. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

The promise of another time is reassuring, whether it be sexual or not, though he rather it be a date. He likes to know he has a little bit of a chance.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Long Way From Home Part 2

Summary: You and Natasha are left with the realization of what your future holds. 

Genre: Fluff

Request: Yes / No

Word Count: 2,408

* * * * * *

You weren’t entirely sure what to expect after Katya’s return home. Hope led you to believe that the situation would draw yourself and Natasha closer. But realism made you understand that if/when that ever happens, it wouldn’t be anytime soon.

Natasha was even more shocked than you were to find out that Katya was her daughter from the future. That shock went even deeper when she realized that Katya’s other parent was you.

Maybe it was that realization that pushed her to stay away from you. And you didn’t want to further push her away by being overbearing.

So for the first few days, you’d given her all the space she needed. You resolved to not speak to her unless she spoke first, you made sure she knew you were there whenever she was ready but didn’t become annoying about it.

But days turned to weeks and she hadn’t said or done anything. With the knowledge of what the future held in your head, coupled with the feelings you already had towards Natasha, you decided to take a different approach.

Switching some things around on your personal and work schedule, you made it so that the two of you spent more time together: working out and training, going on missions, having breakfast together whenever she was actually hungry. Hell you even volunteered to do public appearances with her and everyone knows how much you hate those. 

It was all in an attempt to get the woman you cared so deeply for to at least speak to you.

Luckily, it worked. Whatever the case may have been, her noticing the effort you were putting into being there for her or her getting annoyed with how persistent you are, she started to strike up little conversations when you were together. 

None of the topics ever held much weight but they seemed to make you both happier, helped lift that tension between you two. 

In a few weeks you two grew closer, as you’d hoped, occasionally throwing the term friend around which definitely grabbed the attention of your teammates, especially those who knew exactly how you felt about the redhead. 

While neither of you brought up Katya or what her presence meant, both of you thought about it a lot. With good reason. 

Having learned what you did from Banner during the “Time Heist”, you know that it’s possible that in this particular timeline you and Natasha don’t get together, or maybe you do but you break up, or you just never get married, or don’t have kids, or you adopt so you never have Katya. You’d have to talk to Doctor Strange to know the true number of possibilities but your head was ready to explode whenever you thought about it so you were fine not knowing. 

The one thing you hoped with all hope, was that you kept Natasha in your life. No matter what the future became you just wanted- you needed Natasha there. 

Only problem is, after all that progress you’d made in your relationship with her, everything stopped. Conversations, hanging out, seeing each other around, going on missions together. All of it went away. And it wasn’t because of you.

With how much your new schedule allowed you to see Natasha, you wouldn’t have dared to change it. Which let you know that it was her schedule that changed. Better put, she changed her schedule.

You aren’t sure what you’d done. The last time you spent together, the two of you had watched some movie that she really wanted to see. Conversation flowed freely, laughs and smiles exchanged in between. You’d ended up falling asleep during the sequel of the movie and woke up to her in your arms, her head tucked under your chin.

The moment had left you feeling completely content so, with her soft breaths against your neck and your arms wrapped around each other, you fell back to sleep with ease. Only to wake up to her gone. And you hadn’t seen her around since. 

After everything, after all of that, you refused to take steps back. You’d fight for her until she told you to stop. 

“Um, anyone see Natasha?” You ask, stepping into the kitchen.

Today marks a week of not seeing the redhead around as she continues to dodge you. You had been looking all over her, your search interrupted by Steve calling you and Bucky into a meeting regarding your last mission with him. But now that it’s over you’re back to looking for her. 

Sam, Bucky, and Wanda look up at you as you walk in. Your brunette friend raises her eyebrows at your question, tilting her head in silent curiosity. 

Chuckling quietly, Sam asks,“ she still avoiding you?” His eyebrows wiggle slightly as he asks, amusement in his eyes. 

You raise your eyebrow,“ I’m sorry Wilson I don’t understand what’s funny.” You tilt your head challengingly at him.“ Last I checked she’s still not giving you the time of day at all.”

Bucky and Wanda snort, struggling to hold in their laughs. Wanda bites her lip and turns away from Sam, having to sit her mug of tea down as she finally lets her laugh out. Which breaks Bucky’s resolve. Splutters of laughter leaving both of them as they face away from you and Sam.

He smacks his lips and waves you off,“ it ain’t even that funny.” He grumbles and looks down at his lunch. 

“What’s not funny?” 

Your eyebrows raise at the voice behind you, eyes slightly widening in hope as you spin around. Green eyes look into yours and Natasha’s pink lips press into a thin line before she turns on her heel and walks away.  

Looking back at the trio, you point at the spot Natasha had been in with a disbelieving chuckle. Only to have Wanda shoo you away, gesturing for you to go after Natasha. Understanding what she means, you immediately take off after the ex-assassin.

Luckily for you she hadn’t gone far.

You turn the corner and see her marching down the hallway. She’s moving much faster than you’d like, not giving you time to truly appreciate the tight yoga pants and tank top that adorn her body.  

Instead you focus on catching up with her, which doesn’t take much due to your enhanced genetics. Catching up to her just before she can get to her bedroom door, you reach out to grab her arm, gently pulling her back.

Only for her to twist her hand, grabbing your wrist and nearly slamming you into the wall, your arm twisted behind your back. You know if she wanted to she could make this hurt but she doesn’t. Most likely using it to intimidate you as she speaks.

“Stop following me Y/Ln.” She practically hisses through clenched teeth.

You turn your head to look at her over your shoulder.“ Usually I’d agree to that but not this time. I think I deserve some answers Tash.”

Using the little nickname causes her hold on you to loosen, her jaw unclenching.“ Don’t call me that.”

“Fine,” you huff, shoulders dropping as you turn your head slightly to hide your smirk.“ Just talk to me Natty.”

Her eyes roll and she drops your arm, stepping to the side and pushing her bedroom door open. Your eyes widen and you slip inside before the fingerprinted door closes and locks behind her. 

She quickly spins around as you step in and the door closes. Irritation writes across her features even deeper than before. 

“You can turn your ass right back around Y/Ln. I told you to stop following me.” Her arms cross over her chest.

Shaking your head you say,“ and I told you no.” A frown forms on your face as you look at her. Staring into those green eyes causes your feelings to swell.“ Don’t you see how this is hurting me? Being ignored by someone I care about without a single explanation as to why? And you can pretend that you don’t but it’s obviously affecting you too or you wouldn’t be so upset with me trying to talk to you.”

“Y/n just leave it alone. If I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to talk.” She tries to brush it off.“ We’ve gone without talking to each other before so just, go back to that.”

For a second you’re ready to walk away, catch her at a better time but you were done chasing her.“ No. I don’t want that and I don’t think you do either. Stop avoiding me and your feelings and just talk to me!” Your frustration pulls the words from your brain out of your mouth in an exasperated exclamation.

Natasha wastes no time returning the frustration.“ No okay!” She shouts, running her fingers through her hair.“ I don’t like feeling like this so I don’t want to talk about it!”

Eyebrows pinching together, you tilt your head in confusion.“ Feeling like what, Natasha?” A heavy sigh falls from your lips.“ You aren’t telling me something and it’s killing me.” 

Silence falls between you, once again stirring up that frustration.

“What feeling?” You beg her to tell you, more thankful than ever for soundproof walls, otherwise the whole team would hear your yelling.

She glares at you as if you’d personally offended her, then shouts,“ like I’m falling in love with you!” Her hands rise and fall with her words. Resting at her sides in clenched fists as she keeps shouting.

You drop your hands, shoulders sagging as you feel your heart swell. It seems to start beating a mile a minute and your face softens.“ You’re falling in love with me?”

“Yes. No! I don’t know.” Her voice strains as if she’s choking up.“ I don’t know if this is real or not. Just because Katya exists in some future doesn’t mean that she exists in ours. It doesn’t mean that we’re supposed to be together.”

Those words, that simple expression of her feelings makes you realize that she’s been thinking about the exact same things you had been. 

It’s not like what you’ve been feeling towards Natasha was forced. But you did worry if it was all just you subconsciously trying to make that future with Katya happen. Except you knew it wasn’t.

She: Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, ex-assassin/superhero, she’d had your heart long before Katya ever arrived. You fought it tooth and nail because the two of you weren’t on good terms but truth is, you’ve loved her since your first undercover mission almost 15 years ago. 

The first time your best friend had pressed her lips against yours in a sweet kiss meant to distract and deter your targets, you knew you loved her. Maybe she didn’t feel what you did then but she’s feeling it now.

“I love you.” You tell her, watching as she stops ranting and looks at you with scared eyes. Giving her a soft smile, you take a cautious step closer, reaching forward to take her hand. You squeeze it, as if to let her know that this is real, that what you’re about to say is real. 

“I’ve loved you for a long time now Natasha,” you take her other hand,“ Katya being here, the realization of who her parents are, that hasn’t forced my feelings for you. If anything it made me realize that I didn’t fight hard enough. I just let you go and I was so stupid for that. I should’ve tried harder to keep what we had, I should’ve said something about how I felt before.”

Green eyes bore into yours as you speak, a flood of emotions in them.“ Why say something now then? Why wait until you meet the little girl who we apparently parent? Just because it’s supposed to happen doesn’t mean it has to.” Her tone goes from genuinely curious to irritated in a matter of seconds. 

But you don’t let that hinder you. Instead you smile softly at her, letting your honest feelings show in your eyes.“ Because I don’t think we’re supposed to be together. I think we’re meant to be together. Everything we’ve been through together, every laugh and argument, every insult and compliment, it’s all led us to this very moment.”

Fear overtakes her other emotions and it settles in her eyes. 

“And yes it’s scary, terrifying even, but that makes it all the more beautiful. We can run from this. We can act like we don’t love each other, act like this isn’t what we want. But we both know that we,” you pull her hands up to press against your chest, knowing she can feel your heart pounding,“ this is home. It’s everything we need and more than we ever could’ve asked for.”

You see the battle in her eyes, you get a little scared that she’ll choose to run from it, so in a last attempt to fight for this you ask,“ don’t you think we’ve been away from home long enough?”

Like the clouds parting when a storm ends, you see Natasha’s eyes light up. They get bright as she stares at you and you finally finally see that gorgeous smile. 

She pulls her hand from yours and before you can get dejected about it, she wraps it around the back of your neck and pulls you down.

When she speaks you feel the breath of her words against your lips,“ I’ve been looking for a true home for a long time.”

You understand exactly what she’s trying to convey, you hear the unspoken admission of feelings and you feel her opening the door for you to come in. So you do the same in return.

“I promise I’m not gonna hurt you Romanoff.”

In a split second her lips press against yours and it’s like you’re taken back in time. Those same feelings you’d had when she kissed you for the first time come back tenfold. Soft pink lips mold against yours as you place your free hand on her hip to pull her closer.

For a moment you wish you didn’t have to breathe as you wanted nothing more than to continue to kiss her. But your lungs start to protest at the lack of air so you both reluctantly pull away. 

Natasha rests her head on your chest and you wrap your arms around her.

With her in your arms you can’t help but to think: It feels good to be home.

* * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers

[aetheternity]

I have a request

Levi's wife y/n and 4 or 5 year old son get kidnapped by kenny and the military police. They get taken to the crystal cave with eren and historia. So when levi comes to save them he is livid and is quickly taking down every mp in his way. Luckily both y/n and her son make it out safely with levi and his squad.

Levi, y/n, and their son have a soft moment and they all hug and give kisses 😚😚😚 and day squad teases them

(I added my own little spin to this where Y/N is playfully argumentative and sometimes wild with Levi. Hope that's ok! I also thought it would be cute if Levi and Y/N’s son was named after Levi’s late friend Farlen.)

"We have more than just Historia and Eren now." Levi grunted, facing Hange. "My son and Y/N were taken as well."

"We can't wait then. We'll leave as soon as possible."

Levi squeezed the paper Hange had given him earlier in his grasp as his squad whooped and hollered behind him. Kenny probably wouldn't kill them, they were insurance after all. Which was that much worse for Levi.

He already knew if he didn't manage to calm himself before they got to Kenny he would lash out recklessly. The one thing he'd told his wife and son to never allow themselves to do.

~~~~

"Oi." Levi stepped closer, concern etched onto his face. His eyebrows scrunched where he looked into his wife's eyes. "If you continue moping around our child's health will be at risk and yours. The doctor already told you that."

She turned, eyes narrowed and lips tight where they were pulled into a frown. "What else am I supposed to feel? The father of my baby is running around dodging death. Am I supposed to be happy Levi?"

Levi rolled his eyes, his hand already coming up to the bridge of his nose in expectation for the upcoming brawl of sorts. "I'll be alive for the birth of our son."

"Will you though?" She stepped closer, challenge rising in her tone and eyes.

"I'm not leaving you or the soon to be kid we've made. And you already know that." He fought back. "I'd sooner go back to the underground."

Her hands ran up to his collar tugging him closer. And he let her, let every bit of fury trapped beneath those stone cold eyes run over his spine like a flash of lightning all with the same neutral expression.

"I'm so serious you wouldn't even believe. If you don't come back one of these days and I have to raise this baby all on my own. I'm gonna bring you back to life just so I can kill you again. Do you hear me Levi Ackerman?"

Levi let out a little huff and a small smirk ran over his lips. She let him go and he straightened out his collar. "You get scarier everyday." He remarked "Way scarier than any damn titan."

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her down the mostly empty corridor. "You saw the doctor again today right? Tell me what happened."

"We've got a healthy Ackerman on our hands. He's grown bigger than he's supposed to be at this stage actually." She smiled softly as she placed a hand on her belly. "Probably cause he has your blood."

"Tch, moron. He's already his mother. Constantly kicking every time I touch your belly. He's gonna be a brat just like you."

"I hope he gets my height and not yours."

"For his sake your height instead of your mouth would be good."

"My mouth has gotten you through many long nights so I wouldn't complain if I were you."

Levi playfully rolled his eyes as Y/N's soft laugh filled the corridor. Her eyes shining brighter than they had her whole pregnancy. It was weird Levi had always heard about new parents being scared but he barely was.

When he'd found out he'd been more surprised than anything but he'd barely even had the time to over analyze the situation until that night. This unbelievably wild girl was the mother of his child. What more could he want.

Fear did dawn on him. Knowing he'd have something new in this world that needed his protection. Something so precious and small to protect. But another part of him knew that kid would be safer if he got his mother's fighting spirit.

"Hey, you better not be thinking about other girls." Y/N huffed as she poked at Levi's forehead.

Levi grabbed her finger. "Dumbass, no one else would be able to handle you if I left."

"Just sounds like you're making excuses so that you don't have to tell me, you adore me and could never find anyone else who brings you this much joy."

"No." That barely even scratched the surface..

~~~~

"Do you have a location on them?" Hange asked

"There're a whole bunch of military police and Kenny's squad is surrounding the entire area. But no sign of Kenny himself or any of the people who were taken." Sasha replied

Levi huffed, brain not wanting to retreat to the worst possible scenario. Besides the conversation currently developing in front of him there was a sort of quiet drifting in the atmosphere.

"We have a plan right?" Armin suddenly asked

And Hange nodded, "You're gonna need these." Her hands clasped around the cool metal of the signal flares.

"Signal flares??" Jean stared in disbelief

"Don't worry, we're getting out of here alive hostages and all." Hange stated before turning to Levi. "They're ok."

Levi blinked, slowly but surely uncurling his fists. He looked around to the others their faces a mix of concern and in certain cases glee. But they all had the same sentiment.

"Put the plan into motion." Levi stood

~~~~

It went surprisingly quickly. From the barrels they'd deployed to the signal flares being shot off. Sasha and Mikasa taking out the military police like no one's business but Levi could already feel his Ackerman rage growing.

Where the hell was Kenny? He thought.

His question was soon answered when a bullet flew past his cheek immediately drawing blood. The next bullet striking an ice pillar with a hard crack as he ducked for cover behind it.

Levi paused repositioning himself to jump and land behind one another of the thick pillars searching for the source of the bullets. "Where the hell are they?" He grunted voice raspy, thick and loud where he called to the only person that would be behind this.

Kenny's laugh was boisterous, heavy where it bounced between each pillar. The amount of sweat that had collected on Levi's palms had his weapon slippery in his grip and the vein in his forehead was close to popping.

"I think you have other things here you should be concerning yourself with."

In the blink of an eye Levi's head shot backwards, Jean's scream mixed with the heart shattering sound of Hange hitting one of the pillars caught his attention. A bullet releasing her blood as she slipped and rolled over against the ground like a discarded toy.

"Tch!"

"Levi! Oi you should be worried about me. After all. Your little family dies by my call!"

If Levi was boiling before his blood was erupting now. With incredible skill and speed he bounced his way around the pillars dodging each bullet as Kenny shot them out. His agility raised as he flipped over Kenny's form and behind him. In an instant Levi was tossing a bag full of flammable liquid in time to meet his next shot.

When the bag tore open Levi flew forward, through burning flames created by Kenny's gun tossing his blade. The motion caught Kenny off guard but he managed to dodge it, his hat flying off into a nearby pillar along with Levi's blade to hold it up there.

Levi's heart was hammering taking the advantage he'd managed to get he flew at Kenny with incredible speed slicing through his torso almost like it was butter. In the heat of adrenaline Levi watched as Kenny's body fell to the ground of the cool cavern.

He landed with a hard breath before retracting the odm gears hooks. He couldn't wait any longer. He couldn't stop himself from running forward no matter how stupid and dangerous it was.

He heard bits and pieces of speech behind him. "Follow Captain!" And "Wait, hold on!" But none of it stopped his feet.

He skidded in his pace as he heard soft calls of, "Dad! Dad!"

And he was immediately headed for it. A bit of relief flooding his chest as he heard the faint sounds of odm gear clanging behind him. His squad clearly keeping good pace.

When he arrived he instantly locked eyes with his five year old son and wife.

"Dad!" Farlen's voice echoed. He didn't look injured from what Levi could tell and neither did Y/N. Farlen's hair tosseled as if he'd merely been running outside.

"Where are Historia and Eren?!" Mikasa called as she ran up behind Levi.

"Guys!" Historia's voice boomed. She slunk forward barely supporting Eren's weight. His shirt gone and his face covered in blood.

Levi quickly ran to untie Y/N and Farlen immediately embracing Farlen when he jumped into his arms. If he were any other kid Levi would probably be questioning why he hadn't shit his pants and why his face was tearless. But he definitely wasn't any other five year old.

"Geez, you guys took forever." Y/N remarked, stretching her hands above her head. "I was about to wreck all these Military brats butts for you." She said with a smirk at Levi.

Levi huffed, rubbing his son's back. "Next time you can save yourself then." He remarked giving Farlen a soft head rub.

"Ugggh Mom.. Dad not now.." he sighed

"There won't be a next time!" Y/N fought back. "I'll never get caught up like that again."

"Tch, whatever."

"Are you challenging me Mr. Ackerman?"

"You're a brat, Ms. Ackerman."

"How about I show you how much of a brat I can really be?" She chuckled with a dark smile etching over her features. She pulled him closer, hugging his and Farlen's form with a firm hand on Levi's lower back.

"Don't start something you can't finish." Levi whispered back.

"Ewwwwww.." Farlen mock gagged between them.

Y/N just laughed loudly. "You'll understand when you have someone you love to hate, Farlen."

"Yeah.. I'm with Farlen. That's eww." Connie remarked with a shake of his head.

The others soon joined in with their own little laughs and teasing words. "I can't believe how soft Captain can be." And "They're such a cute family I hope I get that some day."

Levi repositioned Farlen on one arm ignoring all the chatter. Though his cheeks bloomed a rosy color that was extremely unmistakable "Historia, where's your father?"

"He escaped before you guys got here. He's headed toward the wall." She replied

"We've gotta hurry then."

(I'm so sick of people on the internet rn I swear🙄)

[andnofcksweregiven]

ASL

Pairings: Jeff Wittek x reader

Warnings: none that I can think of- weak ending though

~btw I don’t know what it’s like to be deaf or lose your hearing, this is purely based off what I’ve heard from people I know who are going through this. I’m sorry if it isn’t 100% right.~

Synopsis: Losing your hearing at a rapid pace is scary, almost as scary as finally telling someone.

You felt petrified. You get taught to handle all types of situations whilst growing up- for instance, how should you react when there’s a stranger who won’t leave you alone. However, this, this is something no one has ever prepared you for.

80% of your hearing lost, slowly over the course of 2 years and progressively getting worse- hiding your hearing aids under your hair, a beanie or hood. Luckily it was easy to hide from your friends, especially with the hearing aids getting the percentage to 50. 

At the back of your head you knew there was no point of hiding it, your friends would still love you and have your back but there was something keeping you from saying anything. Maybe it’s the fact you hadn’t processed the idea yourself- at some point you’ll be completely deaf. No music, no morning chirps from the birds, not hearing anyone's voices.

Currently, you was situated on the floor cross legged and flipping through different flyers for sign language lessons. Suddenly, a vibration on your thigh snapped you out of the stress induced coma. A notification was lit up on your phone screen, Jeff. A name that caused a smile to tug at your lips but fill your heart with guilt and sadness. 

Jeff and you have always been honest to each other- no rock unturned, no secrets unsaid (well almost all secrets) everything laid out flat in front so there was no surprises. 

Jeff

~ i’m coming over in 10 

y/n

~ and who said you could

Jeff

~ i did.

~don’t you know i’m a v.i.p ;)

This was it. An opportunity to share this with someone. Where you actually going to take it? Hell no, it’ll make it too real. Quickly, you started to gather all the flyers and rushing to a nearby draw to hide them, to busy to notice your door unlocking, to busy to realize that you had put your hair up into a messy bun, to busy to notice your bestfriend standing at the door until a loud forced cough cut through the air.

You turned and slowly looked up into his brown eyes, soft and light like the personality he tries to hide. A wide pearly smile adorning his face however slowly going down as his eyes left yours and darted left and right. 

“y/n? umm” he lightly licked his bottom lip still staring at your ears “y/n why do you have hearing aids?”

“Oh you know, trying to set a new trend. Like how people wear fake glasses to look cool even though their eye sight is great” the laugh that left your mouth felt as bitter as the words you spoke.

“y/n/n...” finally his eyes were set back on yours, cautiously making his way over to you until you felt his large frame engulf you into an embrace, one you desperately needed. Clutching onto the front of his shirt, tears escaping and staining his shirt. “Come on y/n/n, you really think I don’t know when you bullshit me?” 

“Well, kind of, I did bullshit for 2 years” 

Pulling back, his arms keeping you far enough to stare deeply into your eyes “What? y/n what the hell? I thought we was the type to share everything, no rocks unturned and all that?” 

Guilt flooded you, hearing an almost broken voice coming from his mouth until you got hit with the realization- this isn’t about him, this was a big secret, a scary one, and yet he’s trying to act like the worst thing is that you didn’t tell him.

You shoved Jeff harshly away from you, furious at him for even trying to make you feel like shit for not mentioning it. “Hey Jeff, news flash, maybe I didn’t say anything because I’m scared. Maybe I didn’t say anything because I’ve still not processed the idea that I won’t be able to hear your annoying voice or Nerfs heavy breathing. But hey, lets just talk about how it must suck that I didn’t say anything for 2 years, and how difficult and hard it must be for you” Sarcasm laced your voice.

“y/n I didn’t mean it like that I just-”

Before he could finish speaking, you spun on your heel and headed to your room “just leave me alone Jeff”

“y/n”

“No! Go away Jeff!” 

“Fine! I’ll go, I’ll leave you alone, obviously that’s what you want!”

“Yeah it is, that is what I’ve been saying isn’t it?” The slam of the door closing behind Jeff reverberated off the walls of your now suffocating apartment. This wasn’t what you expected, this wasn’t how you imagined things going once someone found out.

Over the course of a month, you were still avoiding Jeff and his futile attempts to contact you. It wasn’t that you was mad or hurt by what had transpired in the apartment, it was more embarrassment if anything. Your reaction wasn’t completely fair on him, he was your bestfriend who thought you would tell him everything- big or small- so of course he’d be taken a back to find out something had been happening for 2 years. 

When you weren’t avoiding Jeff, you was busy with day to day tasks and additionally you’ve finally chosen a sign language lesson to attend. They’ve managed to teach you the basics and given you booklets with pictures to be able to practice at home. Usually, you’d practice most of the time early in the morning when you couldn’t sleep properly, almost like clockwork at this point.

You were currently sitting on your soft duvet at 4 in the morning, mimicking the picture in your booklet whilst occasionally looking up at the long mirror opposite the foot of your bed. Caught off guard, you heard a faint rapid knock on your apartment door.

You trudged out of bed, slightly exhausted from staying up so many hours, and cautiously opened the door only to find Jeff standing, disheveled and almost as exhausted as you- maybe more. 

“Jeff, what are you-”

“Just listen ok?” he said with a graveled voice which was like comforting music to your ears, after weeks of not hearing it. ”Ok?” he asked again, you nodded.

“I know you’re scared and, fuck, I’ve been thinking about it and I’d be scared too, so I’m sorry for acting like me not knowing was the worst part- because it wasn’t. The worst part was you going through it alone for so long, the worst part is you thinking you have to go through it alone so I want you to know that-” his signature hand movements changed, as he focused solely on his hand placements.

“Jeff, are you trying to sign to me?” 

“I, umm, yea I am” Still focused on how he’s moving them around.

“What are you trying to say?” a slight humor in your voice as you stared at his hands and back at his face, were his tongue slightly stuck out whilst he concentrated.

“I am signing that I love you right?” his voice carried a worried tone as his head shot up to gaze into your eyes but cut short when you burst out laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“Jeff I- You just-” Tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes as you struggled to breathe. Finally, you were able to compose a proper response. “Jeff, you just signed I fuck cats!” 

“The hell, do I look like Shane Dawson!?” That broke you both as your laughter's filled the hallway, obviously waking up your neighbors. 

That night, everything went back to normal. Jeff and you staying over at each others to watch films (now followed by learning sign language), the texting/ facetimes, the long drives with music- except Jeff started to blast them at full volume and teaching you to feel/ recognize the rhythm with your feet on the dash of his truck. You weren’t alone, and all the rocks were finally unturned and you wouldn’t have it any other way.