#only uh oh! her crush is now single and they end up hooking up in a mutual grief/mutual pining/drunken impulse one night stand

[biblicalhorror]

Got upset thinking about the wasted potential of zoeys extraordinary playlist as psychological horror/thriller again :/

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

ok, sorry abt my last request i’ll be more specific

can you do ethan landry is best friends with readers brother? and they annoy eachother a lot?

and it ends it a smut pls :3

love your work sm!!

Hiiii! I hope you like it :)

Bad Idea Right? - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT- Minors DNI

Part 2

Summary: You hook up with your brother's irritating best friend.

A/N: If y'all want a part 2, let me know:)

You and your brother have a good sibling relationship, which you’re thankful for. The only issue you have is that his best friend, Ethan, is so incredibly annoying. They’ve been friends for the longest time, and they do everything together. When they both got into the same school, you weren’t surprised.

Ethan’s sort of became a part of the family. Your parents buy him Christmas presents; he comes on all the family vacations. It wasn’t a shocker when your brother wanted to come home to visit you for your birthday, that Ethan would be coming with him.

You’re the only one in your family that isn’t really close to him, which does feel weird from time to time. You’ll never forget the beach vacation when he chased you along the sand with a washed-up jellyfish, or when he was teasing you when you got your first crush, or when he went through a prank phase, and you were his target every single time.

As both boys arrived home to celebrate your birthday, you were excited to see them. Even though Ethan does annoy you, it’s been months since you’d seen them.

Your brother pulled you into a big hug as Ethan walked past you to say hello to your parents.

“Happy Birthday!” your brother said, you rolled your eyes.

“It was a month ago, dork,” you said, a playful tone in your voice.

“Sorry I couldn’t come home sooner. One of my classes this year has been brutal,” he said, as you nodded.

“Hi, Ethan!” you said sarcastically, as the curly-haired boy rolled his eyes when he faced you.

He looked like he was about to say something back, but he paused as he took in your appearance. You started to feel a little self-conscious, thinking you must’ve had a stain on your shirt or something, because he’s never looked at you like that. He’s usually just as annoyed with you as you are with him.

The next day, your brother told you he was throwing you a surprise birthday party.

“It’s not a surprise if you tell me, you know?” you said, “Plus it’s been a month. Why have a party now?”

“Because you only turn eighteen once,” he said, “And we always celebrate your birthday.”

“Okay, when is this surprise party for me, that I already know about?” you said with a giggle.

“That’s the part that’s surprising. It’s in 2 hours, you might want to get ready,” He laughed a little, looking at the sweatpants and big t-shirt you were wearing.

“Fuuuuck,” you whined, walking to the bathroom to jump in the shower.

After you got out of the shower, you stood on the mat reaching for your towel when the door opened.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” Ethan said, closing the door.

“Fuck,” you whispered, wrapping the towel around your body.

You’d gotten used to having your own bathroom while your brother was away, so you didn’t even think to lock the door. You started to get a little embarrassed, now that your brother’s best friend has seen you naked.

Once you dried off and put your robe on, you walked to your room to change.

As Ethan watched you walk out of the bathroom from your brother’s room across the hall, he couldn’t get the image of your naked, wet body out of his mind. ‘Why the fuck am I thinking about her like this?’ he thought to himself, his cock half-hard in his pants.

“I’m going to go get the cake. You want to set out the drinks and stuff?” your brother asked Ethan.

“Uh, yeah. I guess I can do that,” he said, even though the idea of him being left alone with you made him a little nervous.

“Cool, I’ll be back soon,” he said, grabbing his keys.

After you got dressed, you walked to the kitchen to get something to drink. Ethan was putting chips in bowls at the counter as you struggled to reach around him to get a glass. You brushed up against him, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat.

You got some water before sitting down at the kitchen table. You wanted to say something to him about the bathroom incident, but you were scared to make the situation even more awkward. As you sat there, you just had to say something.

“Hey, Ethan?” you said. He turned his head to look at you. “I’m sorry I forgot to lock the door. I know seeing me naked was probably the last thing you wanted.”

You watched him, waiting for a response. His face started to turn red, as you giggled to yourself.

“It’s..uh…it’s okay,” he said, directing his attention back to the chips.

While he was turning back around and you saw him from the side for a split second, you could see that he was hard in the sweatpants he was wearing. Your eyes went wide and you started to blush as you realized the effect you had on him.

“I’m going to go change,” he said, before walking out of the kitchen and to your brother’s room.

After your brother got back and all your friends started to arrive, Ethan was struggling to take his eyes off you. You noticed his gaze as you danced with your friends to the music, a smirk playing on your lips when he quickly looked away. You thought he was hot, but he annoyed you so much that you never realized it until recently.

You kept noticing his stares as the party went on, so when it was time for the cake, you decided to tease him a little bit. You swiped your finger through the icing, before putting the icing in your mouth. Your eyes connected with Ethan as you sucked it off, his bottom lip going in between his teeth at your actions.

After the cake, you went to the kitchen to get another drink. Ethan was leaning against the counter by himself as your brother shamelessly flirted with one of your friends in the living room.

“Hey, you might piss me off, but thank you for being here,” your voice was sweet as you spoke to him.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked, watching you sip your drink.

“What’s up?” you asked. He leaned closer to your ear so no one else could hear what he was saying to you.

“Are you intentionally trying to make me hard out there in front of everybody?” he asked, as his eyes scanned over your face. “I know you like to do things that embarrass me, so if you aren’t interested, please stop.”

You smiled at him, thinking back to all the things you’d done that were probably just as annoying as the stuff he’s done to you. But this was intentional. You wanted him to want you, and it’s obvious now that he does.

“Meet me in my room in five minutes,” you said, before walking away.

You scanned the living room to find your brother, still distracted from everything going on around him. You found your best friend, pulling her to the side.

“Hey, I’m going to disappear for a little bit. If anyone’s looking for me, tell them I’ll be right back, and text me immediately, okay?” you asked. The confused look on her face said you needed to explain more. “I’m about to hook up with Ethan. My brother can’t know, cover for me.”

She nodded, still confused at the situation.

You went up the stairs to your room to wait for Ethan. Your friend smirked to herself as she watched him scan the party for your brother, before heading upstairs not long after you.

“Lock it,” you said, as he walked in and shut the door.

“So demanding,” he laughed, as he locked the door.

You walked over to him and laced his fingers with yours as you led him back to your bed, pulling him down with you as you laid back. He looked in your eyes for a few seconds as he hovered over you, the sexual tension getting even stronger before he finally leaned down to kiss you. The second your lips touched, everything just felt right. Like this was what the two of you were supposed to be doing the whole time.

His hands started to roam under the fabric of your shirt, his fingertips grazed your stomach as you whimpered under his touch. As good as his teasing felt, you remembered that you didn’t have a lot of time to do what you came to your room to do.

“We need to be quick,” you gasped out, once his hand reached your breast.

"Right," he chucked to himself, before he slid your shirt up your body. You sat up a little so he could pull it over your head, and you reached behind yourself to unhook your bra to have one less thing in the way. “Fuck,” he whispered, taking in the sight in front of him.

He leaned forward to take one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as he sucked before moving to the other side. Your breathing was getting heavier by the second, and feeling the way his tongue moved had you craving his mouth on you in other places.

He trailed kisses down your stomach, before he stopped at the top of your jeans. He looked up at you, silently asking for your consent before he went any further. You nodded at him before he smirked and unbuttoned your jeans, and slid those, along with your panties, down your legs in one motion. You took a deep breath once you were fully exposed to him, before he leaned in and started to place gentle licks to your clit.

"Fuck," you whispered, as you looked down to see Ethan's eyes on yours.

He started to swirl his tongue as he slid two fingers inside your soaked entrance with ease, your hips lifting off the bed as he rolled them against that spongy spot inside of you. You were trying so hard to be quiet, and even with the music downstairs, you were sure that if someone came upstairs, they'd know exactly what was going on. Strained whimpers were flooding out of your mouth as you struggled to hold them in, but Ethan was making you feel so good that it was impossible.

"Shit, Ethan," you rushed out, "This feels so good, but I need you to fuck me."

He pulled his mouth away from your clit before he mumbled "I wish I had more time to do this with you." He slid his fingers out, a whine slipping past your lips at the lost feeling as he unbuttoned his jeans and slid those, along with his boxers, down his hips.

"We need to be quick," you reminded him, once you felt the tip of his cock teasingly circling your clit.

"I know," he said, as he lined up with your entrance.

As he slid into you, a low moan flew out of your mouth.

“Shhh,” he said, his hips starting to move. “You need to be quiet, baby.”

You found it hard to do, the feeling of his cock stretching out your pussy feeling so good that you wanted him to know how much you loved it.

“Fuck,” you said, once you heard your phone vibrate on the bed beside you. Ethan kept going as you reached over to check it. “We need to hurry up. My brother was asking where I am.”

His thrusts sped up, until he started to pound into you. He angled your hips just right so your g-spot was getting the attention that it needed, and you couldn't hold in your moans. Once he reached down to circle your clit with his fingers, you cried out as that feeling built up so fast that your impending orgasm had your hands shaking as you gripped the sheets.

"That's it, baby. Cum for me."

Your legs were shaking on either side of his hips as that feeling washed over you, your bottom lip held in between your teeth so hard to attempt to not make the loud sounds that were threatening to escape. He was trying so hard to fuck you through it, but after he felt your pussy start to squeeze him, he knew he couldn't hold on any longer.

“Fuck,” he gasped, as he pulled out, releasing his hot cum on your stomach.

He took a minute to catch his breath as he tried to compose himself, but he couldn't stop looking at you. The way your blissed out eyes looked at him, the sweet smile on your lips, and seeing his cum on you was starting to make him hard again.

He finally tore his eyes away from you to grab some tissues out of the box on your nightstand, and cleaned you up before you both got up to quickly put your clothes back on. You could tell that he wanted to talk about what'd just happened, you did, too. But with the lack of time, you knew it would have to wait.

“I wish I could’ve taken my time with you,” he said, before you walked over to the door.

“There’s always next time,” you said, planting a kiss to his cheek.

You left your room first to join the party again. Your best friend came up to you once she saw you.

“So, how was it?” she asked.

“For a nerd, he sure knows what he’s doing,” you quietly joked, as he walked down the stairs.

“Dude, where were you?” your brother asked him, a blush rising to his cheeks at the question.

“Uh..I had to call my dad,” he lied, as your brother nodded at his response.

“Cool. I couldn’t find my sister either. I thought you two killed each other.”

[wheelsup]

okay but can you imagine spencer washing your hair for you?

like, i never (ever) let anyone (at all) touch my hair, but i feel like he'd be really gentle about it, and there is just something so soft and tender to me about the idea of washing someone's hair for them 🥺

that’s my dream <3 ik you didnt specifically ask for a blurb but i think about this very often. i wrote two versions of this, but this one (with two bickering best friends who are v much in love) won my heart. 

wc: 1.6k   contains: friends (to crushes, maybe ;) ), injured reader. gn!reader

-

“Spence, I promise you that I can do it by myself,” you huffed, attempting to yank off your tank top as you walked toward the hotel bathroom, using only one arm while trying to keep the other as still as possible.

“I’d be more inclined to believe you if you didn’t sound like you were going to cry,” he snickered, following hot on your trail as you tried to escape his hovering. 

“You’re being dramatic.” 

“Oh really? Lift your arm up, then.” He leaned his hip against the marble counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for you to do it. One obnoxiously smug eyebrow arched on his forehead.

Sometime during the case, you’d gotten into a brief tousle with a suspect, who just had to run away when approached. If Morgan had been there, you wouldn’t have even batted a lash, but he wasn’t. So not only had you detained him by yourself, you also wound up with a minor pulled muscle in your shoulder. 

You shot him a sarcastic smile, toothless and irritated, and raised your right arm into the air. He let out an airy scoff. 

“Other one, smart ass.”

Your arm dropped down to your side, your smile falling with it as you turned sharply towards the shower. 

“Look, I’m disgusting right now. So either I suck it up and shower, or you’re going to smell me until the day we solve this case.”

Spencer’s nose crinkled at the gross truth. He wasn’t ungentlemanly enough to tell you, but sharing a bed with a coworker was quite a quick way to discover if they were in need of a shower or not. Your shoulder might be out of service, but both of you could agree that hygiene was a bigger priority. 

“You can’t even move. Just… just let me help you.”

You snorted. “Nice try, Reid. I’m not letting you shower with me.”

He rolled his eyes at your use of his last name. You only called him that when you were annoyed with him. He pushed off the counter and turned to the wall, hitting the light switch and earning a shriek from you as the room suddenly went dark. 

“I won’t look,” he shrugged, amusing no one but himself. 

“You’re a clown, you know that?” you muttered under your breath, drawing back the shower curtain and fumbling around, searching for the knobs in pitch black. “Absolutely fucking theatrical.” 

You found them moments later and ran the water, testing the temperature on the back of your hand. By the time it went from cold to warm, you noticed that he still hadn’t moved. From the sliver of light peeking under the door, you could make out just his silhouette in the corner, perched on the vanity. 

He was being stubborn about this. That, and the comforting fact that you couldn’t see a single thing –– thankfully, not even his face –– wore you down.

“Close your eyes,” you murmured. 

“It’s already pitch black in here ––”

“Close your eyes, Reid.”

Sighing through his nose, he did just that. To make sure you knew it, and also maybe just to be annoying, he made a show of getting off the counter and turning himself around to face the wall. You peeled out of your clothes as quickly as you could. In the process, you caught the long shower curtain under the heel of your foot and, as you stumbled over it, accidentally dragged it along, sending the metal curtain hooks screeching as they slid along the bar.  

The second you found your ground, you immediately shot daggers into the back of Spencer’s head, waiting for him to make a joke. As if he could feel them, he bit back his quip. Not without letting a barely contained cackle slip under his breath. 

“Okay,” you warned, stepping into the shower. Grabbing the end of the shower curtain, you pulled it tightly over your body to cover yourself as you poked your chin out to talk to him. “I’m in.”

Spencer turned and approached the shower, eyes still shut with his hands out in front of him, feeling the walls for guidance. He was still mocking you for making him close his eyes. You raised your brows; he must’ve thought he was quite funny. 

“You look like Velma when she loses her glasses.”

That knocked the funny bone right out of him. His hands dropped to his sides.

“Just get your hair wet and hand me the shampoo.” 

You drew the curtain shut again as you dipped your head under the shower stream, coming back moments later with sopping wet hair and a little bottle of complimentary hotel shampoo. 

He let you sit on the floor of the bathtub, just slightly removed from the spray of the water. Your back was to him, as he kneeled down on the tile floor, just outside of the bathtub so he didn’t have to get wet. You bent your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them.

Spencer first pushed up the sleeves of his sweater as far as he could before deciding to remove it altogether for the sake of protecting the wool against stray water. The cuffs of his work shirt were unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows as he got to work.

Taking a healthy quarter-sized amount of shampoo into his palm, he lathered it between his hands before running soapy fingers through your scalp. The pads of his fingertips softly dug in as he carefully massaged the shampoo in.

When he started working his fingers in patterns, putting pressure near your temples and increasing it as he dragged them up the curve of your scalp, you let your eyes close. He was getting rid of a headache you didn’t even realize you had. 

The tension you’d been carrying in your shoulders eased a little, and it made him think about how much you probably needed this. One of his hands came down to massage the muscle between your neck and your good shoulder, knowing it was best to just let the hot water do its magic on the bad one. 

When the shampoo had been sufficiently lathered, he stood up and detached the shower head, bringing it down to you so you didn’t have to move. You leaned your head back for him as he carefully rinsed the soap out.

You weren’t going to ask, but thank God Spencer told you to hand him the conditioner next. This, he slathered all over the ends of your hair, making sure all of it was sufficiently covered in conditioner before loosely twisting it into a low, makeshift pony for you. 

“Mm. I was about to ask how you’re so good at haircare,” you chuckled lowly to yourself, in a half-sleepy voice with your forehead resting on your knees. Dangerously close to falling asleep. “Then I remembered what you used to look like.”

You had a lazy smile on your face just thinking about the days where Spencer’s hair used to be down to his shoulders. He looked so pretty like that (not that he didn’t look pretty now, too), you always wondered why he got rid of it. 

“Remember when I got shot in the knee?” he hummed, returning to work your shoulder. He adorned a tiny smile of his own as he started to reminisce. “You came by my house at least once a week. Brought me meals, watched movies with me. Helped distract me from the pain. Even drove me to my physical therapy appointments.” 

You mm-hmm’d that you remembered.

“You pretty much did everything shy of helping me bathe. Though, I feel like you would’ve helped with that, too, if I asked.”

You both laughed at that. You hadn’t really noticed the parallels of your situation, being injured and needing his help for once. He was happy to repay the favor. 

“I’ll, uh. Let you wash your body yourself,” he said, coming out of his daydream for a moment. He rinsed his hands off and got up, patting down his wet hands on his trousers. With one nod from you to confirm that you’d be able to do it, he quickly exited the bathroom to give you privacy. 

You emerged seventeen minutes later, clad in pajamas with towel-dried hair. Spencer was still awake as you crawled onto the bed beside him, more than ready for bed after that. He looked to the side to ask you how the rest of your shower was, and before he could get it out, you shuffled up next to him, winding one arm around his and resting your head on his chest.

“I take it you had a good shower?” he laughed. This was one of his “I told you so” moments, and for once, you didn’t mind it. 

“Mhm,” you smiled, chuckling behind it as you shut your eyes. You were falling asleep fast. “Spence, the scalp massage…” 

“Was good, right?” he boasted, inflating his own ego a bit. 

You nodded against his shoulder, not caring if you helped blow up his ego another two sizes. Burrowing deeper into the covers, nestling tighter against Spencer, you got one more quip in before falling asleep. “S’good that I think I have a crush on you now.” 

Joke or not, he pulled the blanket higher until it reached your chin, holding you with both arms and kissing the top of your head before falling asleep himself.

*

*

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[things-we-cant-say]

pretty little liar

Pairing: Ten x Female!Reader

Summary: In order to get your annoying ex off your back, you tell a little white lie that takes an unexpected turn.

Genre: College!AU

Warnings: Smutty smut, dirty dancing

Word Count: 4,867

A/N: Unable to withstand Ten’s power any longer, I had to start writing about him…or a version of him anyway. Hope someone out there enjoys my first dip into the ~imagines~ pond. ☺️

The party was in full swing by the time you and your best friend Amy arrived, the music so loud it could be heard down the street. It was a wonder the cops hadn’t broken it up yet but hey, the night was still young. Ducking through the arched doorway with Amy hot on your heels, you let her guide you into the foyer where you both stopped to take in the scene. The place was packed with people dancing, drinking and laughing—everyone apparently having a great time. Which was perfect for you because all you wanted to do was blow off a little steam and pretend you hadn’t spent the day fantasizing about committing the perfect murder.

You enjoyed school for the most part and you enjoyed your classes, but really you couldn’t wait for it all to just be over. Two extra years and your master’s degree in linguistics was almost within your grasp. You still weren’t one hundred percent what you planned to do with it (teaching was definitely out) but either way you were ready to dive into the real world. To no longer be stressed out about exams and papers and boring ass professors that constantly seemed to have a stain on their tie.

And to get far, far away from your stupid ex, Adam.

“Uh oh you have murder face,” Amy said as she peeped around to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shrugged. “Just in my head I guess.”

Amy hummed. “I get it. That’s why we are here though! To get fucked up and do something we regret in the morning.”

You laughed. “Guess we’re Uber-ing home.”

She grinned and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to a table loaded with different types of alcohol. The guy ‘tending bar’ as it were winked as you two approached. “What can I get you for?”

“Something with alcohol but where we can’t taste the alcohol!” Amy exclaimed happily. “Oh! And if you’ve got any little umbrellas I’d like one of those too.”

He did finger guns and proceeded to cook something up in two red cups, sticking in two pink umbrellas when he was done. You and Amy took your drinks and after a cursory sniff, took a sip. The tequila wasn’t as strong as with a single shot but you could still detect it just not enough to make you stop drinking. Unlike Amy you didn’t plan to get completely fucked up but you weren’t going to say no to a nice buzz.

Cups in hand you migrated onto the dance floor and fell in with everyone else, bopping to the beat and scream chatting over the loud music.

“I really needed this!” Amy yelled. “Statistics is kicking my cute little ass!”

“I know what you mean!” You shouted. “But hey! Soon we’ll be done and actual jobs will be kicking our cute little asses!”

Laughing, Amy bounced up and down, sending her blonde hair flying. “Is that why you’ve been so grumpy lately? Or is it…he who shall not be named?”

With a sigh you took a big sip of your strawberry margarita. “Yeah. He keeps fucking calling me and leaving me these stupid ass messages, apologizing and shit. I’ve blocked him but he just uses someone else’s phone.”

Amy’s eyes stretched wide. “That’s like stalker behavior! Or maybe he really is sorry for what he did.”

You snorted. “Sorry for having sex with his ex in the backseat of my car? As far as I am concerned he can take his ‘sorrys’ and shove them so far up his ass they come out his mouth as safaris!”

Amy choked a little on her drink, hitting you hard on the arm in admonishment after she stopped coughing. “I hate you! I could have died!”

Her words made you smirk. “But did you? No but for real, fuck Adam. Fuck Adam and anyone who even looks like Adam!”

“Woo!” Amy threw both hands up into the air, yelping as liquid sloshed down onto her head. “Oh shit! Drink emergency I’ll be right back!”

Before you could say anything, she turned and hurried back towards the drink table. Alone in the middle of a dancing crowd, you didn’t know whether you should slink over to a corner or just keep dancing. That last thing you wanted was some random dude trying to groove with you. Of course if you decided to hold up the wall nothing would stop some random dude from trying to hit on you either. At a bit of a loss you drained the rest of your drink and did a I don’t really know anyone two step, hoping Amy would return soon.

The tequila settled nice and warm in your stomach, making you feel more at ease. Most of the people at the party were from your school but not ones you associated with on like, a daily basis. Sure you recognized a few faces from the library or cafeteria but there was no one you’d had more than a surface conversation with.

And then your eyes landed on him. Ten.

Ten was a…different sort of person altogether. He was the kinda guy CW shows thought actually existed in college, except he was very real. And very much fucking gorgeous in that unattainable way CW shows also loved. However, that sort of did him a disservice because as far as you knew, he was just a decent guy who happened to be able to do some pretty awesome things.

For example, he was an amazing dancer. The kinda dancer that just freaking mesmerized you when he moved. Had you wondering how in the hell had he taught his body to do that shit? One minute he was in total sync with everyone else and the next he was performing his solo and blowing your mind. He’d done some show a few months ago with a friend and you’d nearly flipped out of your chair watching him work. The body rolls, the attitude, the way he’d just commanded the stage…whew. Was it possible to be a fan of someone who wasn’t famous?

Then there was his art; things he designed himself or drew from memory. Art class was essentially where you’d sorta came to be acquaintances with him. You weren’t exactly good at drawing but you liked it enough that you wanted to improve, plus it helped you de-stress after particularly hard days. Ten on the other hand excelled and just like with dancing, it was interesting to watch his process. He’d described himself as a sensory artist so he wasn’t always as concerned with the end product as the professor sometimes wanted him to be. From your eye though he’d yet to create anything that wasn’t remarkable. In fact, more than once you’d wanted to ask him to design a tattoo for you, but felt it would be kinda weird. He had no idea what you were into after all. So far your conversations with him had consisted of colors and that one time he’d asked to borrow one of your brushes.

You were pretty sure he’d sold something to an art gallery.

Anyway so Ten could dance and he could draw and he could sing and he was fluent in several languages; as far as you knew the only thing he was kind of shit at was cooking. But who hadn’t set a class kitchen on fire once or twice? Or three times…

If he were an asshole—well people would probably still crush on him—you’d count that as a major flaw and want to keep your distance. But the kicker was that he could do cool things and he was nice. Dorky even especially when it came to cute animals. Was always posting pictures of himself at the animal shelter playing with the kittens and the puppies, or just acting like an idiot with friends. Yet it was that confidence that made him seem untouchable, and also made him sexy as fuck. More than once you’d fantasized about biting his Adam’s apple.

Heh.

Shaking your head, you fanned lightly at your face with both hands. Maybe stepping outside for some fresh air would be a good idea.

“Y/N!” Amy nearly tripped over her pretty sandals in her hurry to get back to you. “Weewoo weewoo weewoo!”

“Um…”

She grabbed your shoulder. “It’s a police siren! We have a code red situation here, I repeat a code red! Adam just walked in!”

“What?” You blinked and immediately looked towards the doorway, brows narrowing when you saw she was right.

Standing there in a white t-shirt in his formerly handsome glory was your ex-boyfriend, Adam. Once upon a time you’d thought the world of him; thought he was the kinda guy you could probably marry someday. The kinda guy you’d introduced your family to. Turns out he was the kind of guy that hooked up with his ex in your car repeatedly until finally being caught in the act. Sure it had been gratifying to make him and her walk home half naked but it had done nothing to quell the pain left behind. Thankfully though your pain quickly turned to anger and now you usually focused on not murdering him when he popped up. There was a lot you could forgive but cheating was firmly in the do not cross zone. Everything you’d felt for him evaporated the moment you saw him with her.

And he’d promised he was over her. Lying piece of shit, you thought to yourself.

“What the hell is he doing here?! Does he even know anyone here?” you asked with a frown.

“I dunno!” your friend said slowly. “It’s possible, big campus and all. Do you want me to help you climb out of the bathroom window?”

“Yeah my boobs aren’t fitting through one of those skinny ass windows,” you replied wryly. “Though to be honest I’m almost willing to risk it. C’mon let’s—”

It was too late. Adam spotted you like an arrow searching for its target, eyes registering shock and then elation. He reached you in three quick strides, opening his arms for a hug that he was damned crazy to expect. “Y/N. Wow you—you look amazing. I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

You huffed. “I’m not. I told you we’re over Adam. Or does me blocking your calls not get the message across?”

He exhaled deeply. “Look I know I messed up but I’m sorry. Classes were just really tough and—and Lucy and I would reminisce about old times…”

“Do I look like I give a shit? You cheated on me and we’re over.” The lie came so easily. “Besides, I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah!” Amy poked him in the chest. “She’s moved on so suck it!”

Adam arched a brow. “You’ve moved on?” He sounded skeptical and that made your blood boil. “Since when? And with who?”

You’d once heard that Hippocrates came up with the saying drastic times call for drastic measures though it wasn’t something you’d be willing to bet money on. However, standing there with your ex eying you like he just knew you were lying brought a whole new meaning to the idiom. You would one hundred percent be damned before giving him the satisfaction of gloating.

Tequila’s kicking in…

Without missing a beat, you put a hand on your hip and motioned to Ten. “Him. I’m seeing him.”

Amy made a sound like a cat having its tail stepped on while Adam gaped at you. “What? I—no. No way. You’re totally lying. I’ve seen the people he’s dated and you’re not his type at all.”

This bitch.

Twirling on your black heels, you strolled across the room to where Ten sat in an arm chair, chatting with a few of his friends. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you straddled his lap and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know this is awkward as fuck—I’m so sorry—but if you just play along I will owe you big time. I’ll give you anything. You need a kidney? You can have a kidney.”

Ten’s friends had gone mute and as you sat back to gauge his reaction—or to possibly be thrown off of him—you bit your full bottom lip. His dark eyes were watching you calculatingly, his own lips pursed together like you were a riddle he needed to solve. Up close he was utterly breathtaking, all smooth skin and silky black hair that fell artfully across his forehead. He smelled incredible.

And then he spoke.

“There you are baby,” he said wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’ve been looking for you.”

That was when you figured you owed him your first born but it was fine. “Well, you found me. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He chuckled. “You’re worth waiting for.”

His friends still looked confused though they didn’t have time to voice their opinions. Adam stalked over seconds later like a man on a mission. “So it’s true? You and Y/N are together?”

Ten tilted his head to the side and you saw the moment the lightbulb went off for him. “Yeah we’re together.”

Adam huffed. “Since when? For how long? Where did you two meet?”

Ten smirked. “Are you taking a survey or something?” He brushed his lips across your jaw, making you shiver. “The only thing that matters is that she’s mine. Let’s dance, Y/N.”

“I would love to,” you replied with a smile. You were also grateful he’d remembered your name.

You climbed off of his lap and took his hand, sending Adam a you thought look before pulling Ten out into the thick of the crowd. Your heart was beating a mile a minute but you felt too giddy to pay much attention to it. Plus, you knew Adam was watching you like a hawk and you didn’t want to let on how nervous you actually were. If he found out you were lying he’d never leave you alone and consider you pathetic to boot. Besides the nice buzz that was finally creeping down your spine told you everything would be fine. How could it not be?

Ten’s hands settled low on your hips and he gave you a little tug, pulling your back to his chest. You fit rather perfectly with him, his chin brushing the top of your head. Picking a rhythm in the song that thumped with bass, you began to move together. You rolled your ass against him and leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, focusing on his breath as it ghosted across your neck. A silver of light wouldn’t have been able to get between you.

Normally you wouldn’t have dared to do something like this with a near stranger but your desire to make your ex suffer was bigger than your nerves. Besides Ten appeared to be all in on the ruse; his body twisting and curving in sync with yours, fingers on his right hand sliding up between your breasts to wrap lightly on your throat. His teeth nipped at your earlobe and you gasped. Reached around to his side to clasp his shirt for an anchor. You heard him chuckle and suddenly you were spun away from him only to be reeled back in, this time face to face.

The room felt like it was two hundred degrees. You weren’t exactly wearing much—a slinky black dress with tiny ties at the hem—but even that seemed too much. Without missing a beat though you and Ten continued to grind with one another, his thigh just barely pushed between your own. Every time you swayed forward to meet him the denim of his jeans rubbed deliciously against you, sending sparks sprinting through your veins. Both of his hands were on your ass as if helping to guide you, and as you met his gaze you couldn’t help but bite your lip at what you saw there. Desire, lust, hunger—no one had ever looked at you like that before. Like they could just devour you and still not have enough of you.

It made you feel powerful.

You grinned and wrapped an arm around his neck, fingers giving his hair a little tug. He hissed and lowered his head so that he could mouth at your bare shoulder, hands squeezing your ass so hard it nearly hurt. You weren’t sure when you started to get wet—maybe it was the moment you sat on his lap or he decided to play along with your dumb stunt—but you could tell it now. Your panties were sticking to you, your skin was on fire and it was becoming difficult to think straight. Honestly however you didn’t want to think at all, especially not if it meant not being in Ten’s orbit.

“Ten,” you whispered into the skin under his jaw.

He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. You plastered your hand to his chest and pulled it down, nails catching on the thin material of his shirt until they were brushing along the zipper on his jeans. You gave him a quick squeeze—he was hard and straining—and he cursed loudly. Between one second and the next he was dragging you down a dimly light hallway, past kissing couples and one guy passed out drunk in the doorway of someone’s room. He swung you both into the first vacant room he came to; a lavish bathroom at the very back of the house. The door was closed with a swift thump and the lock clicked shut.

You licked your lips as he crowded you back into the counter, looking down at you with a tiny smirk. That part of your brain that yammered on about bad decisions was surprisingly quiet, so you figured it was beyond okay to pull him down for a kiss. As with most of the stuff he did, Ten was a damn good kisser. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue playful and coaxing. He kissed you like he’d been waiting to kiss you for a long time. Until it grew deep and sensual. Until you were both panting with the need for air but neither wanting to let go of the moment.

With a gasp you tilted backwards a bit, your knees suddenly weak. “Fuck me,” you said absently.

“Can I?” Ten asked, chest heaving. “Can I fuck you?”

“God yes,” you replied, already pulling your dress up until it hitched around your waist.

Ten hooked his thumbs onto the band of your pink panties and slid them down your legs, laying them next to the sink. He looked you over with that same eye he used for his art but you could tell he liked what he saw. You grabbed his hand and brought it between your legs, spreading them wider for him. Two of his fingers slipped inside of you without any resistance to find you damp and aching, already so hot for him. He started a lazy rhythm—in and out, in and out—like he was in no hurry at all. Like he wasn’t driving you crazy all the way down to the tips of your toes.

He kept his eyes locked onto yours as he touched you, lips slightly parted like he couldn’t believe this was happening. That rang true for both of you. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever really be friends with Ten, let alone about to hook up with him. It was like you’d stumbled into some alternate universe.

Bringing his free hand up to your cheek, he smoothed his thumb across your lips, pressing lightly until you let him in. You sucked his thumb into your mouth and gave it a little nip, smiling when he smirked. When he deemed it wet enough, he pressed it to your clit and you moaned, your hips stuttering upward with a will of their own. He began a firm massage, working your clit this way and that, fingers still thrusting in their maddening motion. Of course he’d be great with his hands. Of course he’d be able to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Pressure started to build low in your stomach. “I—I’m…”

“Turn around.” Ten took a step back and made a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick between them like he wanted to savor every drop.

You whimpered but did as he requested, your eyes finding his in the wide silver mirror. You watched as he unzipped his pants and pushed them along with his dark colored briefs down to the floor. You hadn’t seen him pull out a condom but he had one; ripping open the packaging with his perfectly straight teeth before rolling it onto his hard cock. It was a delicious looking thing you had to admit, long and thick with a slight curve. If you’d had the time you would have gladly went to your knees for him.

A low breath shuddered out of Ten’s lungs as he pushed inside of you, his hands gripping your waist so strongly you were bound to have a few bruises later. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

It had been a while since Adam and nobody after him until now.

When he assumed you’d adjusted to the size of him, he pulled nearly out before driving back inside of you. You moaned and pushed back to meet his thrusts, feeling the pleasure shattering through you. Your breasts bounced as he moved and he reached a hand forward, tugging down the top of your dress so that he could cup one. He rolled your nipple between his fingers and pinched, bending over you so that he could bite down onto the tender skin of your shoulder. The motion sent him even deeper and you both groaned at the feeling.

“Te—Ten,” you stammered, losing your train of thought when he rolled his hips liked he did on the dance floor. “Oh fuck! Fuck!”

The picture you made in the mirror was a very erotic one; you could see every single expression on Ten’s handsome face. The utter enjoyment he was obviously finding in fucking you was written all over it; there was nowhere for it to hide. His head was tipped back, eyes fluttering closed only to pop back open so that he could watch himself shove into you over and over again. He had you up on your tip toes, nose just an inch from the mirror itself. He was always sexy but tonight that word took on a whole new meaning.

All you could do was try to give as good as you got.

You slapped a hand onto the sink to steady yourself and clenched around him, reveling in the low whine that escaped his throat. It kinda sounded like your name.

And then he was pulling all the way out, dick bouncing as he stumbled backwards. You blinked in confusion. “Wh--what’s wrong?”

Ten ran his fingers through his hair. “C’mon. I want you to ride me.”

He sat down on the closed toilet seat lid and you straddled him without a second thought, sinking down onto his dick with a full body shudder. With your dress around your waist and your breasts jiggling in his face as you bounced up and down on his cock, he traced his tongue around your nipple before lightly biting down. You tangled your fingers in his hair and panted out his name, letting out a squeak when his palm connected with your ass for a hard slap. Planting his feet on the floor, he leaned you backwards a bit as he drove into you repeatedly, eyes watching how well your pussy took him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone. “Gorgeous—you feel so good.” He bit you again, this time on the side of your neck. “So good.”

With one hand on his shoulder to brace yourself, you rose up and let yourself come down hard over and over again, feeling him pound so deep it was almost criminal. Had the music not been so loud you knew exactly what you would have heard; the sound of skin hitting skin as Ten fucked you like he owned you. Just for tonight, maybe he did.

You weren’t sure how long it went on but when you came it still managed to take you by surprise. Your body lit up like a Christmas tree from the inside out and you cried out Ten’s name, clenching around him, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. He muttered a drawn out fuuuuck and pinched your clit with this thumb and forefinger, making you jerk so hard you nearly tumbled off his lap.

“Ah! Ten!” You shouted as he kept it up. “I—no—oh god—”

Your pussy tightened around him again and he shivered, thrusts growing erratic as he came with a grunt. You trembled through a second orgasm almost in disbelief—usually the only thing that could get you off twice in a row was hidden under your bed in a shoe box.

Seconds later you flopped against him, attempting to catch your breath. He was still rolling his hips just a tiny bit, making all the too sensitive areas ping.

“Whoa,” he said breathlessly, wrapping both arms around your waist. “That was…”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah…” Chancing a look at him, you admired the way strands of his dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was glistening, shirt sticking to his chest. He smelled like hints of your perfume and you smelled like hints of his cologne. It was all so intimate.

Reluctantly you sat back and gazed at him, wondering if things were about to get awkward. But Ten just smiled and ducked his head a little, a barely there blush creeping up into his already flushed cheeks. It was so adorable you couldn’t have resisted kissing him if you tried. From the way he melted into you, he’d had the same idea.

After a few minutes of just enjoying the feel of his lips against yours, you forced yourself up off of him. Your legs shook; you had to grab the counter to keep from tripping in your heels. You could already tell you’d still feel him tomorrow and the thought made you kinda dizzy, but in a good way. Blinking at your reflection—your hair was a dark mess—you knew there was no way you’d be able to hide the love bites that adorned your skin. They stood out stark red and purple like a bruise.

Ten remained slouched on the toilet for a couple of moments before removing the condom and tossing it into the trash. He dabbed at his dick with a handful of toilet paper, and then pulled up his underwear and jeans. “So…can I ask you something?”

You fixed your dress. “Sure.”

“Who was that guy?” he inquired with a grin. “The one you obviously wanted to get away from.”

Oh shit you’d forgotten all about Adam! “Oh he—he’s my dumb ex. He jumped stupid at me and I—I wanted to show him that he’s an idiot. That I’m totally over him. I—I’m sorry for getting you involved.”

He laughed as he patted down his hair. “No complaints from my end. I think he got the message though.” Reaching behind you he handed you your panties. “Don’t wanna forget these.”

It was ridiculous to be embarrassed considering what you’d both just done, but you couldn’t help it. You took them from him and pulled them on, keeping your eyes on the ground. “Thanks… Look Ten—”

“I’m hungry,” he said interrupting you. “Have you ever had grilled dried pollack?”

“Um yeah once I think,” you replied uncertainly. “It was pretty tasty.”

Ten motioned behind him. “I know a place that makes it if you wanted to go. And…maybe afterwards we could just hang out. Talk.”

That sounded amazing. “I’d love to. But…”

He picked up on your meaning. “Y/N I sit next to you in all of our art classes. I make conversation with you for no reason. Do you really think I of all people forget my brushes? Honestly I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while but you’ve always seemed…disinterested.”

You were dumbstruck by his admission. “Me?! That’s just my face! You’re the unattainable ingénue or whatever!”

Ten chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh please the only thing standing between me and being a serious cat dad is having an apartment that allows animals. However, this conversation is pointless. You owe me and I’m collecting…if that’s okay?”

You huffed but couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s perfect.”

The walk from the bathroom to the living room had everyone staring with a few people letting out loud whistles. Adam had disappeared but Amy was there to give you a big thumbs up. You promised to call her later and then let Ten pull you outside into the warm night air, your fingers happily entwined with his.

[gentlemancrow]

14: “I’m screwed” shippy JMart :) 💚

Ehehe this one got away from me a little bit! But ask for shippy Jmart get a gushy mooshy Crow! Please enjoy! ; w ;

“I’m screwed…”

Martin watched helplessly through the slats of the yellowed blinds on Jon’s office window as his entire life went up in flames. He dimly recalled some trite old saying about seeing one’s life flash before one’s eyes before the moment of unceremonious besmirching from the cruel mortal coil, but for him it was more of a hysterical repeated rewinding of every single bumbling misstep that had orchestrated his imminent demise.

From the moment he decided he had just enough time before work to pop into the Tesco for the usual bouquet of flowers for his visit to his mother later in the day, to the snap decision to get the one made of tulips, bright crimson, orange, and yellow like a flame, rather than the usual white lilies, all the way up to entering the institute, Elias stuffing a file for Jon in his already laden arms, and then the chaos that had erupted as he attempted to deliver it, he lived it all over again. First there was something about the kettle being on the fritz, and obviously since he used it the most frequently, clearly he knew how to repair errant electronic kitchen devices. He was halfway through chastising Tim for false equivalencies in his logic when Sasha had breezed past and asked for a report he’d supposed to be finished with the day prior, and somewhere in the snarking with Tim and the flailing over his dereliction of duty the flowers had been abandoned on Jon’s desk and the file tucked under his arm instead.

By the time Martin realized he was missing something bulky and crinkly and fragrant it was too late. Jon was already in his office, tatty messenger bag still looped around his chest, forgotten, staring at the fiery bouquet on his desk with the scientific method scrolling visibly through his pupils as he regarded it like a corpse on an autopsy table, hand in a fist with his thumb pressed to his lips. Martin had never wished harder for some sort of horrific creature of the darkness to strike the institute again and just devour him whole this time to put him out of his misery.

“You’re what, mate?” Tim’s adjacent query only intensified that desire.

“Tim! SHUSH!” he squeaked, grabbing his friend by the shoulders and hauling him out of the line of sight from the office window.

“Easy there, big guy!” he laughed, “What’s all the hullabaloo?”

“I’m SCREWED. Big time,” Martin moaned, burying his face, which had been bright scarlet since the moment his hubris had roosted, into his hands, “See those flowers in there? I bought those for my usual trip to see my mum this afternoon but somehow between you being an idiot and me also being an idiot and forgetting to finish that report I sort of… left them there… by accident…”

Jon, meanwhile, had finally set his bag down and had circled his desk like a vulture. He reached out with delicate fingers like forceps and pinched the very edge of the card to inspect it, which, unfortunately, only added to the mystery with its coquettish blankness, as Martin had yet to fill it in. Tim watched, nonplussed.

“So? What’s the big deal about that? Just go explain it to him and I’m sure he… Oh. OH,” he cackled as realization dawned on him, “Yeah, nope you’re screwed.”

“Thanks…”

“Ahh, don’t sweat it. The man’s so thick I’m sure he thinks it’s just a prank or some continued spooky attempt on his life or something. The absolute last thing he would think would be that you of all people would…” Tim stopped himself in the withering blue glare blazing at him from behind round spectacles, “Anyway, again, this is Jon we’re talking about. He’ll just treat it like some weird cosmic mystery until he burns himself out on it or the next one shows up.”

“Y-Yeah but-“

“Just go explain! Unless you want to watch him wriggle about it like a fish on a hook all day. Which I am diametrically unopposed to, by the way, sounds absolutely hilarious.”

Martin winced, hating the idea of being the missing chunk of code that caused Jon’s brain to glitch for the remainder of the day, and sucked in a breath between his teeth.

“No, no you’re right,” he sighed, “Just… no flowers at my funeral if he kills me, okay?”

“Kate Bush songs only, got it, yep.”

Martin rolled his eyes, not dignifying that with a response, and shuffled on mechanical feet to the closed door of Jon’s office. He rapped lightly a few times before pushing his way in, smiling sheepishly at the head archivist who had clearly just unceremoniously flung himself in front of the mysterious bouquet to hide it from view.

“Martin!” he barked, “What in the hell are you-“

“Uh, just needed to talk to you for a second.”

He closed the door behind him

“Oh, uh… about wh-“

“About those, actually,” Martin confessed through his teeth, pointing, mortified, at the coy spray of flaming tulips peeking out from behind Jon’s hip.

He whipped around to look at them, then back to his assistant, then back to the flowers again, the blush that only ever seemed to find the tips of his ears glowing like two carmine rosebuds there.

“…You?”

That unreadable earthy brown gaze, somewhere between wilting regency heroine and venomous snake ready to strike with fangs bared, harpooned Martin directly to the heart.

“No! God no! S-Sorry!” he yelped, flailing his hands defensively in the air, “I-I mean they are mine, yes, b-but I-! Th-They’re for my mum! I-I try to visit her in her care home if I can on Fridays, and I always bring her some flowers! I was supposed to be dropping off a file for you, but then Tim was hounding me about the broken kettle and Sasha needed that damned report and I was all mixed up and I… I forgot them here. On your desk. Your desk of all places. I still have the file and um… T-Trade you? Hah…”

Jon’s finely sculpted brow shifted from pinched, to bemused, to a strange, sorrowful relief as Martin finished lamely in falsetto and he chuckled under his breath.

“Ah… right. Right! I thought for a second someone might have um…” he snorted breathlessly, “Hah, I knew that was a preposterous notion.”

The metaphysical harpoon still in Martin’s chest shattered in icy shards of anguish as his heart collapsed under the weight of itself.

“Wh- Jon, is it really that preposterous a notion someone might want to bring you flowers?” he asked, crushed.

Jon flourished a flippant, elegant hand.

“Come on Martin, this is me we’re talking about. I’ve never gotten flowers once in my life. I’m not the kind of person people think to buy flowers for. It’s not a big deal.”

“Well then let me be the first!” Martin insisted, his mouth and heart moving in tandem before his brain could stop them.

Jon’s brow creased again.

“What? Good lord no, I’m not going to take the flowers you bought for your mother. Who is also in a care home, mind.”

“I’d much rather give them to you.”

The skeptical expression marring Jon’s face did little to hide the blush flourishing at the tips of his ears again.

“Look. We’re friends now, aren’t we?” Martin elaborated shyly, “Friends can send each other flowers. And honestly? My mum doesn’t even like them… no matter what kind I bring. They usually end up being for her nurse instead. So I… I think they’ll have a much better home with you.”

A tiny smile quirked the corner of Jon’s mouth, snipping an invisible thread that softened his entire face into something innocent and full of wonder.

“I see. If you’re sure, I suppose I could…”

“I’m very sure,” Martin replied without hesitation, “Just tell people an old friend sent them out of the blue, or you have a secret admirer or something!”

“Well I don’t know about all that, but-” Jon chuckled, smiling softly, “Thank you. Just the same.”

Martin looked up, just for a moment, and met Jon’s gaze, letting the piercing erudite wood of it lay bare his fluttering heart.

“You’re welcome…”

Jon shifted in the beat of ensuing silence, his eyes flicking away from sky blue radiance to shift his shoulders back into a professional square.

“You uh, said you had a file for me?”

“Oh! Yes! Right! I-I will go fetch that file for you indeed and uh-! Oh yeah! Make sure you snip off the ends of the stems a bit before you put them in water. Helps them last longer,” Martin offered, snapping out of his enchantment and already slinking backwards to the door, “Oh and also! When they start to go, I’ll show you how to press one in a book, so you can keep it, if you like!”

“I’d like that very much, actually.”

Martin smiled, nodded, and saluted awkwardly as he escaped Jon’s office and closed the door behind, leaving him in private to wait until he was sure no one would see. Once he was certain, he preciously gathered the tulips into his hands and brought them to his nose, breathing in the field bright scent of his very first bouquet from a secret admirer.

[arminbitchlover]

Confession (F!reader x Jean Kirschstein)

content warnings: mild language, smut, oral (F receiving), praise, unprotected sex, alcohol/intoxication

summary: reader and jean have been in love w one another for years, but never actually admitted it. it wasn't until one night at marley, drunk jean decided to change all of that and finally make them his.

word count: 3.1k

DO NOT POST/SHARE MY WORK ON TIKTOK

You forgot what it was like to genuinely have fun with your friends again. You couldn't recall the last time you got together and not worry about your lives being at risk. It didn't matter to you whether it be making bets to see who takes a shot or reminiscing on old times during training, it just made you feel somewhat at peace.

"C'monnnn, y/n!! a single shot won't hurt anybody." Hange playfully shoves your shoulder as they hold a shot glass in front of your face.

"I rather not, but thank you anyways." You giggle and push away the shot from your view.

"More for me." They chug down the alcohol as if it was water, not being affected from the after burning effect.

You never really liked the idea of being drunk; having little to no memory of what you're doing and having to deal with migraines and nausea the next morning did not please you in the slightest. Jean, on the other hand, didn't seem to care much about the consequences.

"Y-Yeah, ssoooo then I-I zoomed in and swoosh titan DEAD!" Jean hiccups and waves around his hands as he tells Connie his, more than likely, fictional kill.

"You sound like an idiot." Connie playfully smacks Jean's shoulder, laughing out loud.

"Youu are— More pleaseee." Jean slurs out his sentences into one while pointing at his empty glass.

"Sure, buddy." Connie smiles and grabs his glass, walking over to the bar.

Before he could call over a bartender to fill Jean's cup, you clear your throat to catch his attention.

"Don't you think Jean is going a bit overboard with the alcohol?" You flash a confused look to Connie and immediately break out into a smile.

"Oh fuck yes, but he's enjoying himself so I'll let this one slide." He sits on the chair next to you, glancing at Jean and Armin having some kind of competition.

"Yeah, he is..." You trail off, letting your mind wander off as you stare at Jean.

You never had the courage to admit to Jean how much he meant to you since the day you met him. You recall it as if it was yesterday, you were practicing with ODM gear and one of your hooks stopped working and Jean didn't waste a second to help you. You remember everything about him at that moment, how he had a grass stain in the mid left of his shirt and how he had a small scratch right under his left eye as well.

Before you got the chance to tell him how you felt, you found out about how Jean was basically in love with Mikasa and fuck did that hurt, but it was over now. That was 4 years ago and now you're here, still with the same little crush but understanding there was no point of trying to make it anymore than that.

"Uhhh, y/n?" Connie snaps you out of your thoughts, noticing your eyes never leaving Jean.

"Huh? Oh— sorry." You turn your head back to Connie, wanting to get Jean out of your thoughts.

"You know, he's stupid if he doesn't see what an amazing person you are." He smiles, immediately seeing through you.

"Is it really that obvious?" You slightly smack your forehead.

"Somewhat, but, hey, you really should try to shoot your shot. Jean got over Mikasa a while back and I notice the way he glances at you when you're not looking." He hits your shoulder with his, getting a small chuckle out of you.

"Yeah as if." You grin and continue your conversation with Connie, unaware that Jean has been shooting quick looks at both of you when neither of you were looking.

Jean never likes thinking about his feelings, let alone talking about them, especially after being rejected by Mikasa, but he will never get over how everything about you causes butterflies in his stomach.

He will never forget when he noticed how perfect you were, it was during dinner with all the scouts and the usual argument between him and Eren had arisen. Everyone else was telling Jean to quit and that he was being rude for no reason, but you were the only one who stood up for him. He will never forget how you looked, you had a bruise on your forearm and a gash on your right cheek from cutting yourself with a branch, but he still thought you look absolutely beautiful

Now it was two years later, and he never actually thought of ever telling you how he felt since he just assumed that it was some type of infatuation, but it was so much more than that. Before he had the chance to tell you how he felt, his self doubt clouded his mind, telling him that it was just a one sided crush and he believed it.

"Armin, d-do yerrr think y/n and Connie— together?" Jean clumsily turned his head to Armin, seemingly forgetting what they were talking about in the first place.

"Jean, you're completely over analyzing them. They're just friends." Armin laughs, quickly noticing Jean's jealousy.

"I-I hope so," He hiccups, still staring down Connie and notices you laughing at something he said.

"Oh, fuck this." Jean tightens his hands into fists, gets up and walks towards you, not aware that he was leaning to his left.

"CONNIE!" He grabs his best friend from his collar, pulling him out of your seat.

"JEAN— WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?" Connie grips Jean's wrist, pushing him away.

You stand there in shock, not knowing how to help either of them.

"Y-Y-You know how I feel about y/n and youuu still decide— steal her from me," He stammers while using the bar table for balance.

You and Connie both look at each other, completely stunned from what just came out of his mouth.

"Jean..." You trail off and slowly make your way towards him, scared that what he says is too good to be true.

"Whattt?" He makes eye contact, genuinely curious why you were calling him.

"Maybe we should go back to the hotel and get you some water." Connie rubs Jean's back, completely disregarding what had just transpired between them.

"Wait—" Jean pulls away from Connie and faces towards you.

"I love-love you, okay?" He grazes his fingers across your forearm, not thinking much of what he just confessed.

You feel your face start to heat up and your heart begins to pound rapidly in your throat. You couldn't believe what you just heard, you think it's some sort of twisted lie that his drunken self has just stirred up. It was all too good to be true, right?

"You're wasted, Jean." You move your arm away, doubting everything he just spat out.

"I knew you didn't f-feel the samee way." He looks down on the floor, looking as if he wanted to barf and cry at the same time.

"Let's uh— go, Jean." Connie gives you a weak smile before taking him out of the bar.

You sit alone for a few minutes, not knowing what to do with yourself before deciding that you just needed to end this night already. You get your things and make your way to your hotel and check in.

You grab the keycard from the receptionist and head to your room, feeling completely empty inside. You didn't really feel like staying up any longer after what happened even though it was barely 11:30, so you took a shower and went to bed with Jean's confession playing repeatedly in your head.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

You wake up to knocking at your door, leaving you completely startled. You rub your eyes before looking at the clock, 4:54.

"What the fuck.." You mumble to yourself and get out of bed and check the peephole, seeing Jean with no shirt and pajama pants.

Your chest tightens and you immediately open the door, not giving it any thought.

"Y/n..." He rubs the back of his neck, not making any eye contact.

"Jean." You keep your body somewhat hidden behind the door, not knowing what to do.

"Can I please come in?" He looks at you, hoping you'll say yes.

"Well, are you still drunk?" You smile, trying to lighten up the mood.

"Oh no, I— um slept it off, I just have a headache." He laughs as you widen the door and allow him to walk in.

"Is everything okay?" You sit on the bed, hoping that he doesn't bring up anything he said at the bar.

"So, uh Connie told me everything." You feel your heart drop to your stomach, already assuming what his next words are going to be.

"And?" You close your eyes, preparing for the worst.

"I can't really take back what I said, you deserve to know the truth," Your eyes widen and you turn to look at him, his eyes on you, "I just need to know if you feel the same way."

"Y-You really like me?" You feel butterflies in your stomach, everything beginning to feel so surreal.

"Of course I do, what is there not to like about you." He chuckles and takes a seat next to you.

"Well um- I like you too... For a while now actually." You hesitate as you realize that this was real, Jean really sees you as more than just a friend.

"Really?" His face turns red, not noticing that he immediately took a hold of your hand.

"Yes, really." You squeeze his hand for reassurance.

You both stare into each other's eyes for a little bit, enjoying one another's presence, unaware that both of you start leaning in at the same time

Your lips slightly brush against each other, feeling the electricity trill through your body before connecting them and letting the warmth of his body consume you.

You've never shared a kiss like this before; one that's so deep and passionate and could almost feel all the feelings you have for one another being poured onto it.

"God, you're perfect," Jean whispers as he slowly lowers you to the point when you're laying flat on the bed and he's on top, both of his legs on each side of yours.

You glide your hand across his chiseled jaw while he has a firm grip on your waist, scared that if he let go it would all be over. You completely underestimated how much you wanted him, not just physically, but all of him.

"Do you want this?" He lifts his head and rubs his thumb in tiny circles on your cheek.

"I do." You grab his face with both of your hands, pulling him in for another slow and sensual kiss.

You grind slightly against him, already feeling the arousal pooling low in your stomach just from a kiss. You slide your hands down to his abs, lightly tracing them with your index finger. 

He moves his hands down to your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it off to the side. His eyes widen, completely in shock that you were without a bra.

"What?" You giggle, lifting his chin to make eye contact.

"Nothing." He grins and gives you a peck, before turning his focus back down to your chest.

He starts by kissing on your collarbone, intertwining his hands with yours by the sides of your head; tightening his grip each time he marks your skin.

"Shit." You exhale heavily, loving the intimacy Jean created with everything he was doing to you.

He made his way to your tits, taking his hand to massage your left breast while he kisses and lightly sucks the other one with care. You run your hands through his hair, taking in everything he was doing to you.

"Is it okay if I- um go down on you?" He breathes out, feeling his hard cock get tight against his pants.

"Of course." You feel your face heat up and help him pull down your underwear.

He pepper kisses all the way down your stomach before reaching your slick center. You feel your heartbeat start to quicken, already feeling prepared as this was something you would think about endlessly, but before he did anything you feel your legs being hoisted onto his shoulders and his grip on your outer thighs become more firm.

You suddenly felt the pad of his thumb lightly press against your clit, involuntarily causing your hips to buck up. You glance down and see a smile across his face.

"I'm going to take my sweet time with you and I'll make sure you feel nothing but pleasure, okay?" He smirks at you and goes back down, not waiting for a response.

"O-Okay." You took in a sharp breath, unexpectedly feeling his hot wet tongue take in your arousal that covered your slit.

He focuses on your clit, doing sloppy circles at a tedious pace. Even though he just started, you love every second of this. It makes you feel so special to have someone wanting to spend a great deal of time just pleasing you and not worry about anything else.

His hands slowly rub up and down on the outer sides of your thighs, making his actions so much more intimate. He continues his sensual pace, as you grip his brown locks, feeling fuzzy.

"Mm, Jean," You moan, grinding against his mouth wanting a bit more.

He didn't hesitate, seemingly already knowing what you wanted, and slips his middle finger into you. He still wasn't rushing anything, wanting to make everything last as long as possible, wanting to ensure your first time with each other was nothing but perfect.

It slips into you effortlessly, taking his finger in while your walls clech against it. While you don't realize, Jean's dick is seeping with precum, making a small wet spot go through his boxers and onto his sweatpants.

"Another please." You're so ready to gush all over him; you never understood the effect unhurried foreplay could have on you until this moment. You didn't think it could turn you on this much, let alone cum, but fuck, Jean was making it happen and it was coming fast.

He pushes in his ring finger, curling them both to hit your g-spot, causing your vision to swim.

"Cum on my face, please," Jean mumbles, slightly picking up the speed but nothing too harsh and abrupt.

It didn't take long for you to fall apart, your thighs trembling against him as you moan out his name while gushing on his face and fingers.

"You sound so pretty saying my name." He pulls away and smirks at you, gently rubbing your clit to bring you back down from your high.

"Well maybe you should try and make me do it again," You giggle, feeling ready for what was about to happen.

He makes his way back up your body, pulling off his pants and boxers before aligning himself.

"Are you sure you want this?" He looks into your eyes, worried that he'll fuck up somehow and ruin everything.

"Yes, I'm sure." You pull him in for a gentle kiss, feeling him push into you and stretch you out.

You gasp, not expecting him to be as big as he was. You feel your walls clench against him trying to take him in as smoothly as possible even if it was borderline painful.

"Shit— are you okay?" Jean stops, giving you a worried look, noticing discomfort flash across your face.

"I'm fine, keep going," You reassure him and you mean it. It wasn't anything that was excruciatingly painful, but rather just pressure and soreness and you had to admit it felt fucking amazing.

"I'm still going to take it slow alright? I just— really want to enjoy this moment with you." He kisses your forehead and moves your hands to the top of your head, holding them with one hand and the other gripping the bed frame.

So many thoughts go through your head at once. One part of you was so happy that you and Jean were finally together, admitting to each other what you've kept hidden for years. The other was so fucking scared, scared that there was no certainty that either of you would be alive by next week. So you understood Jean's words and you wanted to enjoy every second with him as well, as if it were your last.

He slides further into you, already feeling his cock start to twitch in you from how tight you are.

"Fuuckk," He drawls, feeling his tip hit your cervix.

"Y-You feel so good," You whimper, feeling yourself coat his dick in arousal as your back starts to arch against his stomach.

He keeps his slow and sensual pace, resting his forehead against yours while giving you soft kisses between each thrust.

You close your eyes, savoring what he feels like inside you, his sluggish movements making you feel fuzzy and warm.

You feel the pressure build up in your stomach again, feeling him hit a spot so deep in you that you didn't realize was even there.

"'m gonna cum again." Your eyes roll back and you move your hips against him, seeing stars as he puts a bit more pressure into your sweet spot, feeling your walls start to flutter.

"Don't hold back." He moves his hand that is holding yours back down to your clit, setting you over the edge.

"Jean!" You throw your head back, losing yourself in the waves of sensations and feeling yourself tightly clutch on his cock.

"Fuck, I think I'm gonna cum too." He immediately pulls out and begins pumping himself.

Your stomach becomes painted with hot white spurts of cum, seeing Jean's face wash over with bliss and relief.

"That was... wow." Jean smiles and pulls you in for one final kiss before putting back on his clothes and walks over to the bathroom to get paper towels.

"That was worth the wait," You giggle, reaching your hand forward as you try to grab the paper towels from his hand.

"No, please, let me." He lightly pushes you back down, gently wiping down your stomach and making sure you were clean before laying back down next to you.

"Thank you, Jean." You rest your head against his chest, listening to his heart beat.

"Why are you thanking me?" He clumsily traces your back, taking in your scent.

"Making me happy." You pull away and look into his eyes, caressing his cheek.

"Well in that case, I promise I will do everything I can to make you as happy as possible for the rest of our lives." He chuckles and kisses your temple before pulling you back into his chest, both of you drifting off to sleep.

[sunshine-on-my-mind]

Remind me to thank her

pairing: johnny storm (au! no superpowers) x reader

warnings: good old fluff, mention of hook ups, slight hints of sexy time (nothing specified), johnny being adorable, shy reader, cuteness.

words: 1,447

a/n: sort of a self-indulgent fic, hope you all like this, feedback, comments and reblogs are appreciated!! i love fluffy johnny

made this mood board

(y/n) is a socially awkward girl and to find her at party is equivalent to the chances of getting a text from a crush who is out of your league. oh lool, a text from the crush - as in y/n is at a party after her friend sort of emotionally blackmailed her to join her. so here she is awkwardly standing in the corner with a drink in her hand.

“don’t like the party?” a voice comes from beside her, she turns to find a man with blonde hair with a smirk on his face. she is not at all good in making conversation. why is this man even talking to her? she wonders. he seems kinda out of her league. “hi, i am johnny” he says accompanied with a smile. “hi, (y/n)” she returns the smile, with a hint of shyness , she tends to get shy in general and the glow of this man is charming yet a little intimidating for her.

“(y/n) that’s a pretty name, so as i was saying, you don’t like this party?” he takes a sip of his own drink. “no i mean parties aren’t exactly my thing. it’s too loud for my taste and there are way too many people here, i don’t even know whose party this is, i just came because my friend insisted.” she sort of rambles and his smile gets bigger. “well you’re in luck, this is my party” wow, she gets flustered. “i-i mean uh- it’s a good party” he raises a single eyebrow at her. “remind me to thank your friend for bringing you here.” he winks. she is flustered even more, she is not at all used to this. is johnny flirting with her? her? why? “so if parties aren’t your thing, do tell me what is.” he tilts his head a little. “i mostly like staying home, watching movies, spending time with my close friends, i don’t have a lot of friends though. and occasionally i like going out, going to some cozy pretty cafe, spending some time there. well, i am definitely not the most interesting person one knows of.” she says with a smile. johnny understands that she is not exactly his type but she is quite intriguing. “there’s only one way to find out, i should get a chance to know you to see if you are interesting or not? how about we get out of here and go to some coffee shop, get something to eat?” johnny offers. (y/n) isn’t exactly sure what’s happening, or rather how? is he asking her out? he wants to spend time with her? or does this offer have some other meaning? she may be shy and may not be super experienced but she knows about this sorta stuff.

“um johnny, i don’t exactly understand what you are suggesting, besides it’s your party, why would you leave?” johnny laughs a little, she is cute. “well i am suggesting we should go out? and about me leaving my party, it’s no big deal, most of these people are way too drunk to realise whether i am here or not, still i’ll just send a text to my friend to take care of things. so you wanna go? because i wanna go, get to know you.” before she can stop herself from doing anything, a blush automatically appears on her face. “um we can go, but uh- i- this is only a visit to a cafe right? there is no other meaning behind this? you don’t expect to end this night in- you know in a certain way” she looks away as she says the last line. johnny can’t help but let out a small laugh. (y/n) feels she has already made a fool of herself and that’s why he laughed. she decides to go away, she is a little hurt and doesn’t know why. as she is about to go johnny holds her hand and stops her.

“wait where are you going?”

“away, i think i have already made a fool of myself it’s better i just go”

“what are you saying? is it because i laughed? i didn’t mean to make you feel bad, it’s just you’re so cute, asking about other meanings behind this, so very cute, a laugh just escaped from me. i am sorry.”

“it’s okay, i am just not at all used to any of this.”

“i understand, it’s alright, and to address your doubts, i just wanna get some coffee, get to know you, that’s all, no other intentions.” he pauses before looking into her eyes. “well not for now at least” he winks. “okay, we can go” she tucks a hair strand behind her ear. “great, let’s go!” he offers her his hand, she hesitates but eventually takes it, johnny smiles.

walking in new york city at night with the right company can be quite nice. johnny is happy that (y/n) is still holding his hand, he has a constant smile on his face since he met her. they find a cute little coffee shop and decide to go in. “what would you like to have?” johnny asks. they place their order and find a place to sit down. it’s by the windows and it’s quite beautiful. (y/n) loves to watch the cityscape at night with a beautiful combination of light and darkness. johnny can’t help but admire that, her face is glowing, he doesn’t know if that’s because of the lights or if it’s natural. “looks like our order is ready, i’ll get it” johnny brings their order to the table. (y/n) drinks her iced coffee. “so this is your thing?” johnny asks and she nods. “is it too boring for you?” (y/n) enquires. johnny chuckles. “no, not at all, this is pretty good, even better because of the company” he raises his eyebrows at her. “you’re something aren’t you johnny?” johnny truly is something. it’s true this is not usual for johnny he is more of a party person. he doesn’t like to get attached and hook ups have worked fine for him till now. but maybe this will be different, this maybe new? he won’t lie he is a little nervous, yes johnny storm is nervous. but excited too.

“johnny?” she waves her hand, he realises he hasn’t said anything, too busy to admire the scene in front of him. “right, sorry, yeah well i guess” he seems to be out of words, which is extremely unlikely for him. “you seem out of your element, are you okay?” she says and takes a sip from her coffee. johnny is more than okay, he feels like a teenager all of a sudden, sitting in front of the girl he likes. “i’ll be honest (y/n), i haven’t dated properly in a long time, i wanna say and ask a lot of things but i am too engrossed in just enjoying this vibe right now. i have never enjoyed not talking and just being in the moment this much.” (y/n) sort of got used to his flirty side by now but this is new, and even better. a blush creeps up her face. “well this is new for me, i am not very outgoing. i honestly didn’t expect someone like you to- you know be interested in me in any way. but um- all i can say is this feels nice. being with you here, as you said, being in this moment feels good.” she looks down at her drink, worried if she has ruined the moment. she feels comfortable with johnny, even though she just met him. “hey look at me, you have no idea how happy i am to hear that, and what can i say? you should always expect the unexpected with me” he winks. she blushes more. “so yes i am very much interested in you, and want to get to know you more, you’re very intriguing, a lot more than you give yourself credit for.” he moves up in his seat and places his hand on hers gently. “i can understand this is new for you, in a way it’s new for me too, but it’s making me nervous in the most beautiful way and if you feel the same, i think it’s worth something.” she has a warm smile on her face, he loves that so much, he loves to see her smile for him. “i think i do feel the same.” she says, he returns the smile and rubs his thumb over her hand softly.

“great, then this is officially a date and we should start planning our next one?” she laughs at his eagerness, she likes it honestly. maybe this could be something, something neither of them were looking for but found. johnny will always be thankful to her friend for bringing (y/n) to the party.

[kingofkingdom-archive]

Your Wish Is My Command

Pairing: Maxwell Lord (WW84) X Fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you all so much for the love on my last story! I’m grateful for all the feedback and can’t wait to get back to anyone who’s replied or reblogged it or whateva. This one’s pretty different - Recovery was mainly plot with a bit of porn, this is... well, the opposite of that. ;) As always, heed the tags/warnings, and again there is no use of Y/N here.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only!)

Summary: You have a gift - a powerful, unique, dangerous gift, and King Maxwell wants to take full advantage.

You’ll let him.

Warnings: mostly smut, Maxwell being an absolute jackass (no redemption arc here folks), you encouraging and very much liking the jackassery, brief mention of abuse/trauma, greedy authoritarian behavior, kinda spoilers for ww84

Tags: semi-public sex, exhibitionism, royalty kink (?), unprotected sex, implied and/or inferred consent (i.e. not explicit but there), Maxwell’s POV (until very end), fingering, p-in-v sex, come marking

Word Count: 3.4k

"The messenger you requested, reporting back from the northern provinces, sire."

King Maxwell of the house Lord, sitting in the throne gifted to him by birthright, dismisses the servant with a wave of his hand. He's become quite irritated with the futility of his efforts concerning this matter, and therefore has little patience for further delay. The future of his lands, his wealth, his power, rests on the shoulders of these menial workers and the news they provide. It bears no repeating that should they continue to come up empty-handed, someone is going to lose their head.

He needs the girl, and then it will be sealed. He will crush all opposition and assert his dominance over the entire region, coast to coast.

The messenger, a boy no more than 15, scurries into the room. His hair is tousled under his cap, which he hastily removes in the presence of the king. He bows, deeply and with a flourish, before standing upright.

Max watches with disinterest, legs spread over the velvet seat and head resting on his fist. His rings dig into his temple.

"We believe we've found her, sire."

That grabs his attention. He sits forward, both hands gripping the arms of his throne.

"You believe you have? Have you or have you not?"

The boy swallows, growing pale. "We-we have, your majesty. It's just, uh, we-we can't p-p-prove it's her until she demonstrates the gift."

The king groans, rolling his eyes and rubbing a hand over his face. These people are impossible.

"Where is she, then? Have you at least brought her along?"

The boy nods frantically. "Yes, your majesty. She's been quartered in the guest wing, with two guards to watch her."

Immediately, Maxwell stands. Everyone in the room looks up at him, and he adjusts his sleeves. The boy is nearly trembling.

"Well, then take me to her," he orders, and the boy hesitates.

"Now!"

The messenger boy practically trips over his own feet in haste to correct his error. He sets a quick pace to the guest wing in order to account for the king's long strides, head bowed and arms stiff as he does so.

The room is located to the east of that which houses his throne, on the third floor, overlooking the orchards. Maxwell follows the boy, wooden-soled shoes echoing on the gleaming marble floors of his palace. Mirrors line each hallway, along with fine art ranging from rare vases to family portraits. 

Maxwell sees the door as soon as they turn a corner, identifiable by the armored men who stand at either side of it. The boy stops and gestures to the door with a shaking hand.

"Just in here, y-"

"I can see that," the king barks, ignoring the boy completely. "You are dismissed."

He hears footsteps retreat quickly down the hall as he checks his appearance in a mirror. Not a hair out of place, not a wrinkled seam in sight. The king sighs, smiling as he admires himself. He takes a moment before turning to the door, the door that hides behind it wealth and prosperity like nothing he's ever known.

The guards simply bow as he approaches them. Maxwell knocks twice on the door and pushes it open.

Inside there is a single room, with a bed and chest of drawers and a vanity. There is a balcony, with glass French doors, through which he can see the shape of a woman standing and looking out over the scenery. 

She leans one hip against the stone railing, and as Maxwell walks forward he can see that she holds a goblet of wine in one hand. Her dress flows in the light summer breeze, and her hair is decorated in intricate braids, ribbon laced throughout.

The girl does not see him, yet. He stands in the doorway, hands clasped behind his back, watching her.

"Is it true?" he asks, after he's looked his fill. 

The young woman starts, a gasp escaping her lips. She turns to look towards the voice she has heard and startles again, seeing the king himself staring quite intently at her.

"Your majesty," she breathes, a smile ghosting across her lips. She bows deeply and then looks up at him, eyes bright and playful.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, my dear. I've heard many... extraordinary things about you."

Maxwell is immediately taken with her. Not only is she quite beautiful, despite her pauper's clothing, but she is one of few who have not reacted to him with fear or malice. Most begin shaking when they see his face; she, however, seems quite happy to see him.

"Oh, sire, the pleasure is entirely mine," she responds, voice soft, like music to Max's ears. "What things could you have heard about someone as lowly as I?" Her words are humble, but he senses a hint of teasing in them - as though she knows exactly what he's heard, but just wants him to say it.

"You are rumored to possess a very unique skill, one that I am most interested in learning about." He plays along, because her elusiveness frustrates him much less when she's right in front of him.

The king is a very visual man. 

He steps forward, fully onto the balcony now. She backs up until her back hits the railing, smile never leaving her face, even as the king crowds into her.

"I possess many skills which I would be happy to demonstrate to you," she says, and Max does not miss the meaning she intends to convey in those words. His eyes darken, his blood running hot at the thought of the many things she could give him. The things he could take from her willingly, without the hassle of a fight.

"It is said that you grant wishes," he murmurs, looking down at her. Max finds he quite likes this view, her looking up to her king. "One must only touch you and state their wish, and it will be so."

The girl chuckles, and daringly takes a sip of her wine. Maxwell grins, before reaching a hand up and grabbing the wine from her grasp. He tosses the liquid out over the ground below and carelessly throws the goblet over the edge to follow its contents.

The girl does not bat an eye.

"What you have heard," she mutters, eyes slipping down to his lips and back up again, "is true."

The king runs his hand up her side, settling at her ribs just beside her breast, savoring the way she shivers at his touch. His fingers splay out over the bare skin of her back, warm and soft and hinting at more.

 He dips his head down so that his nose brushes against hers, mouths nearly touching.

"Is there a limit," he breathes, because he knows he must ask this, "to your generosity, my dear?"

The girl smiles, placing a hand on his bicep. Her small fingers feel divine against him, even there.

"No," she whispers back. 

Maxwell hums, stroking his thumb idly along her warm, soft skin. He needs to confirm that she's telling the truth, as tempting as it is to believe her outright. The way she's looking at him... she'd let him do anything to her. The thought is as enticing as it is dangerous. 

"I wish to find a raven's feather in my shirt pocket," he says, and then feels a slight breeze on the back of his neck.

The king reaches into his pocket, and his fingers brush against exactly the object he wished for. He pulls it out to show the girl. She smiles and runs a hand up to his shoulder, resting her wrist there. His loose linen shirt, which flutters lightly in the wind against his tanned skin, is perfect for a summer's day like this - and when he feels the warmth of her hand through it he thanks his past self for selecting it this morning.

"What a remarkable gift you have," he comments, and tucks the feather behind her ear.

An endearing blush rises to her cheeks, and though she ignores it, the king takes notice. "Thank you, your majesty."

At that moment, an idea forms in his mind. It's devious, downright lecherous and more the act of some tavern drunkard than a king, but she is sure to react well, if he's gauged her correctly. 

"You said there's no limit on the wishes you can grant a single person?"

"Yes, sire. I did."

A smirk forms on the king's face. "Then I wish, my dear, for you to be naked."

The wind around them picks up again and the girl gasps. In the blink of an eye, her plain, beige dress has disappeared, leaving nothing behind. She is a vision, bare and beautiful in the midday light like this.

Maxwell is immediately hard. Not only is there a gorgeous, naked woman before him, but his absolute, unlimited power has just been confirmed and lies at his fingertips. He is unstoppable now, now that he has her.

The girl's hands fly up to grasp at his shoulders as his own trace over her curves. Her hips, her waist, her thighs - one of which he brings up to hook around his own hip - all of it is open and shimmering before him. 

"They said - in my village, they said you are a monster," she says, though her words trail off into a moan as one of the king's hands finds her breast. He tugs at her nipple, squeezing and pulling at the supple flesh, drawing sweet sounds from her pink mouth.

"Is that so?"

She nods. "I would look at your portraits and - and think... I'd think, no... no man so handsome could be so evil."

The king laughs, dipping his head to lick at her neck. She tosses her head back, giving him full access to the elegant column of her throat. 

"And even... even if you are what they said... I don't - I don't care."

Maxwell groans just as she says it, biting a bruise into the junction between her shoulder and neck. He trails bites and kisses down her collarbones, leaving his marks across her unblemished skin.

"I am," he murmurs into her ear, smoothing a hand over her stomach so that his middle finger comes to glide over the thick hair that covers her mound. He dips it into her folds, rubbing softly at the wet, slippery flesh there until she moans, high-pitched and needy. He grins, licking his tongue into the shell of her ear.

"I am a monster, my dear," he whispers.  "Every vile thing they said about me is true. And... I wish to fill my personal vaults with triple the gold. I wish to increase my fleets tenfold, with loyal soldiers to match. I wish to never see you leave these palace grounds so long as I live."

The wind picks up considerably around them. The king presses a finger against her opening, hot and dripping for him, and slides it in. Her moans are heavenly, loud and unashamed as he violates her in the open, where anyone could look up and see them. Her cunt opens for his finger, the gold and precious jewels of his rings swallowed by her sweet embrace. Her hands grip at his neck while her leg draws him closer. He adds a second, and it enters just as easily.

The king begins to fuck her with his fingers, watching as the muscles in her stomach tense and her eyes go glassy with the feeling.

"I wish to never be challenged by anyone for the throne," he grunts out. The girl moans at his words, and he realizes that she likes it. Not just the way he's touching her, but that he's making his wishes as he does it. He grins at her, predatory, and cups her ass with the hand not currently knuckle-deep in her pussy. His fingers dig in, sharp and strong and unyielding, surely leaving bruises in their wake.

"You like granting my wishes, darling? You enjoy giving me power, worshipping your king?"

She nods, mouth half-open. "Yes, your majesty." Her voice is breathy, the sound of it nearly knocking him out with the way it draws blood from his brain to his cock.

Speaking of which.

Maxwell thrusts a third finger into her cunt, the stretch made easy by the slick leaking out of her profusely. She wails, hands scrabbling at his neck and shoulders and back and the collar of his shirt. 

"Take me out," he orders, and she pauses to look at him, confused. "Take me out of my trousers, my dear. Feel how hard I am for you."

She gasps and her hands fly down to the button at the crotch of his pants. Quickly she fumbles it open, and his hard member pushes up into her palms. The girl gives the king's dick a squeeze, and he grits his teeth, moaning.

"I wish to claim all of the lands in the south as my own. I wish to have loyal subjects in every village and town, that no one may ever defy me again. I wish to have any traitors killed without question."

The girl's moans have increased again as she rubs and caresses his cock. Her hands disappear for a moment as she leans back, licking a long stripe from her wrist to fingertips, and returns to her task. 

Maxwell groans, dropping his head forward to press his nose against her skin, breathing in. She smells faintly of lavender, a crop that grows abundantly in the north, sweet and fresh. His tongue darts out to lick away a drop of sweat that rolls down her collarbone. Her hands squeeze and pull at his cock, thumbing at the head and slit and dipping down to fondle his balls on every other stroke.

It feels positively exquisite, but he wants to put his dick to use elsewhere. Somewhere tighter, warmer, wetter. 

The king removes his fingers, drawing a whine from the girl. The noise of it is obscene in itself, squelching and sticky as her cunt tries to cling to his fingers and the jewels that adorn them. He chuckles, lifts his head to meet her gaze, and brings his fingers up to his mouth and licks away her essence. She watches, rapt, as he makes sure to get every inch of the three digits that were inside her. The sight of it makes her keen, high pitched noises spilling out of her lips and eyes watering with desperation and need for him.

The king laughs, the taste of her on his tongue. Someday, he swears, he'll taste this sweet nectar straight from the source.

Now is not the time.

He brings his spit-soaked hand down to his red, throbbing cock, giving it a few strokes. His other hand slips up to grasp her waist. The girl lifts her leg further, resting her heel against his ass, helping him to guide his length into her.

"What else do you wish for, my king?" she asks, just as the head of his cock notches at her opening. With a grunt, Max pushes in.

Her words, combined with the feeling of her pussy stretched around his dick, causes his vision to blur and images to flash in his mind of what's now possible with her gift at his disposal. He pushes in further, drawing another moan from deep within her throat.

"I wish... I wish..."

"Your wildest fantasies, my king..." she urges, grip tightening on his neck and shoulder. "Anything is possible. What do you -- oh!"

As her words soak into his skin, he pushes in further and further, until his balls are nestled squarely at her ass. She's pushing him to take, rather than to give, unlike so many who surround him. It breathes fire into his veins, this woman who's encouraging him to do all the selfish, power-hungry things he'd do anyway, all while he fucks into her like this.

The king draws out and pushes back in in one smooth motion, stealing the breath from her lungs. He presses his lips against hers as he speaks, as he sets a rough pace, fucking her into the stone railing.

"I wish to never fall ill or suffer injury in battle. I wish to have the unwavering allegiance of every foreign leader, and that they will defer to me in all international affairs. I wish for my reign to be the longest this nation has ever seen. I wish to live longer than any other man, and I wish to have you here at my disposal for the entirety of my long life. I wish to never succumb to old age."

By now, the wind is tossing her hair and whistling around them, but Maxwell does not care. He's thrusting into her roughly, recklessly now, and all he can hear are her sweet, delicious moans. Her pussy clenches his cock just so, and he sees nearly sees stars at the feeling. Her tits bounce as he fucks into her, her nudity on full display but only to be taken advantage of by him.

Maxwell adjusts his grip on her waist and thigh, maneuvering her around so that now he's taking her from behind. She leans forward on the railing, looking out over the palace grounds.

"Isn't it beautiful, darling?" he breathes, gripping her ass cheeks now, pumping in and out with increased fervor. "Looking out onto your lands, as far as the eye can see..."

She merely responds with moans, punched out of her with each thrust, and Maxwell feels her cunt throb in a way that tells him her orgasm is imminent. He reaches a hand around and searches for her clit, knowing he finds it when she shouts out. He rubs a finger against the sensitive, pulsing nub until she comes apart, writing and screaming on his cock.

Max feels his own climax approaching, and just before he tips over the edge, he withdraws his cock. Taking himself in hand, he strokes a few times and cums directly onto her ass and lower back, marking her up with his potent, royal seed.

Chest heaving, the king runs his hands through his own semen as it cools on the girl's backside. He rubs it into her skin like a masseuse might a fragrant oil.

Maxwell steps back, admiring his conquest. The girl is still leaning against the railing, head bowed and naked as the day she was born.

"I wish for you to be my queen."

The words are a surprise even to him, though he's not shocked at his own impulsivity; that is a trait of his that has followed him from childhood onward.

The girl turns to look at him.

"You have to be touching me for it to work, sire." She doesn't sound angry with him, which is a relief, though he'd never show it.

"I know, my dearest. I wish it, but I won't compel you."

At that she turns to face him fully. She's got that fucked-out look on her face, to be sure, but now there's something else in her eyes.

"Are you asking me to marry you, King Maxwell?" Her smile is sly, something befitting a woman of much higher status than herself. It makes his cock twitch in a valiant effort to get hard again.

"I suppose so."

"In that case, my answer is yes," she says, and pulls him in by his shirt collar for a searing kiss.

-

The next morning, you wake up sore in an unfamiliar bed.

You look around for a moment, taking in the luxurious decor and faint smell of roses, until you remember where you are. Who you are, now.

Your head rests not on a pillow - something much warmer than that. It rises and falls softly, and then you realize there's a weight around your waist that feels distinctly like an arm. Lifting your head just slightly, you see the king himself asleep above you, face soft and youthful in rest.

As you lay your head down on his chest to fall back asleep, you can't help but think of the people back in your village. The horrors you endured at their hands once they learned of your gift. The nightmares you still have because of what they did.

You think of how much they suffer under the rule of the king - of your husband - and you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

[malfoys-demigod]

Boy-Magnet - Draco Malfoy x Reader

Prompt: “Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?”, “Thank you, it means a lot to me.”

Summary: Being the opposite of a chick-magnet, you attracted many single boys who always tried hitting on you or asking you on a date. These boys all had the wrong intentions, especially Cormac McLaggen who had to be the biggest problem of them all. Draco couldn’t stand seeing his friend/secret crush go through this all. Little did you know, he would give his last fend off, showing that he would be there for you at all times now. 

Word count: 3.6k 

Tagging @the--queen-of-hell

A/N: Ah!! It’s a bit scratchy but this oneshot should do it! Enjoy!

--  “Hey Y/N, you free this weekend?” asked a passerby whose friends started chuckling as they walked past you in the corridors. 

“Nope,” you irritatingly answered and rolled your eyes as you were waiting for your friend Daphne to leave the classroom she just had classes in. 

You checked the time from your antique chain watch, looking at how classes should have ended five minutes ago for Daphne. But then again, she was having Professor Binns’ History of Magic so he would have gone overtime without knowing. 

“Silly old ghost,” you muttered to yourself as you placed the watch back into your sling bag. You were lucky you didn’t have to fill another class like Binn’s into your schedule unlike Daphne who was advised to take History of Magic if she wanted to become a professor. 

“I can agree with you,” came the voice who replied to you. Looking up, you saw Cormac McLaggen walking towards you slowly with his hands in his robe pockets, smirking at you. “Too bad I still have him this year,” his hand pressed the wall, making his body closely face yours. 

“How unfortunate,” you tried sounding as lively as possible. 

The obnoxious boy let out a laugh, thinking you were interested in the conversation he started, pulled up his History of Magic book and waved it in front of you. “I was thinking,” he said looking at the book, “If you could tut-”

Daphne Greengrass was the first one to have forcefully brushed the doors of the classroom you were standing by open, storming out with a sigh of relief as she saw your figure waiting by. 

“Merlin’s beard!,” she boomed, “Thank you so much for waiting, Y/N.” She looked tired as if she slept through the whole class time but seeing that she drew on her arms with her quill meant that she was wide awake, bored out of her mind as she did not want to write useful information from the class. 

When she looked at the person who was closely in front of you, she knew what she had to do as she pulled you by the arm and said, “We have to go! Uh,” she looked down, left and right, thinking of a quick excuse, “The boys want to meet us!” She looked at Cormac who seemed uncomfortable hearing that there were boys who were more valued than his time. “Beat it, McLaggen.” she said as she dragged you away from the scene, going wherever was the farthest from him. 

“The boys, huh? Very specific of you, Daph,” you laughed. Turning left and then turning right, the two of you had entered the Great Hall, the nearest place with the most people to use as a way to hide from ill men like Cormac. 

“Right,” she exhaled from running so quickly. “We’re okay here?” 

“I suppose,” you shrugged, “I actually would love a snack anyways.” 

The two had gone to the ends of the Slytherin table which was the edge facing the professors’ table when they usually had their meals. While you were placing your bag by your side, Daphne had already asked for pumpkin juice and sandwiches from the elves. 

When she was finished ordering, she looked at you with concerned eyes as she placed a hand on your shoulder. “Sorry class took long. I bet if Binns was aware of the time, you wouldn’t have encountered that slimy boy.” 

“It’s alright, Daphne. I just hate how there are still so many ill-minded boys in this school who think they can just claim me as their own. I wish I wasn’t some magnet to them,” you sighed, laughing. 

Daphne nudged your shoulder, shaking her head from left to right. “Don’t ever say that! You’re lucky boys go after a beautiful girl like you, but sadly they go after you in the wrong way. You just need to learn how to defend yourself without anyone helping you.”

“True, but I suppose having a boyfriend would be nice too,” you joked. Daphne rolled her eyes in a joking manner as she drank from her pumpkin juice. 

“Sign me up too, Y/N,” she sighed, “Oh Merlin, why can’t you help me out!,” Daphne looked up to the ceiling, pretending to pray for a miracle. 

While you were laughing your arse off, footsteps belonging to a group were walking towards your end of the table. You only noticed when a body slid into the table, sitting beside you. 

“Gone nuts haven’t we, Greengrass?,” said the voice. 

Daphne and you turned to the right, looking at Draco and his gang who had just arrived with a grand meal through the magic of the elves. 

Your friend nodded, taking in another sip of her pumpkin juice. “Crazy times we live in, Malfoy.”

Draco gave a small nod in return, then looked at you, giving you a friendly warm smile. As he smiled from his mouth, it was also as if his gray eyes were smiling as well. 

“Afternoon, Y/N,” he politely greeted you, “I would have assumed by your childish laugh that you had gone nuts as well, but then again, I can’t picture you going nuts, especially over someone trying to ask Merlin helplessly.”

The whining ‘Hey, I’m right here!’ from Daphne was ignored and spaced out as you were in the zone with Draco’s conversation. 

You smiled as a result of hearing the smooth comment the platinum blonde had given you. Stroking a loose hair strand behind your ear, you shyly looked down. 

“Well, Draco. I’m full of surprises. I could go nuts any minute by now.,” you replied, looking back up as if your confidence had just brought you back alive. 

“Not on my watch, Y/L/N. Besides, what could possibly drive you nuts? You’re one of the most calm people around school. You don’t have annoying people such as saint Potter on your shoulder everyday.” 

Scoffing, you shook your head, denying the things he had just said. That was by far the most untrue statement anyone had ever told you. Your whole life constantly revolved around people trying to hook up with you and trying to fend off those same people. 

“Have you ever seen the countless mindless boys who try asking me on a date?,” you laughed. “It’s not fun to decline their offers.” 

Draco’s face had hardened as he knew what you were talking about. The way he commented how he assumed you didn’t have people on your backs to fend off was all bluffs. He had seen the evil minded boys who had tried to get physically close to you, and he even heard many betting which one would claim you as theirs that he even threatened to hex most of them whenever you weren’t around. 

“Why would you decline them? Surely you’d want to go on a date with someone.”

You tilted your head, “Yes, I would but most of these boys don’t have the right intentions. I can somehow feel it.” 

Draco nodded, understanding what you meant. He took a lowkey angry bite off his sandwich, visualizing the many boys he would often overhear by the corridors. 

“I can assure you that there’s only a few boys with the right mindset,” he stood up, causing his group to stand up as well. He looked at you with careful eyes, “You take care, Y/N. See you back at the common room. Excuse us.” 

You waved goodbye, smiling pleasantly at Draco as he turned around, leading his group out of the Great Hall. Daphne could see the way you smiled at Draco, treating him differently from the rest of the other boys in school. She nudged you in the shoulder again, making you finally turn back to her with a dazed look. 

“I know Malfoy’s.. Well Malfoy, but he’s quite nicer than the rest of the boys in school towards you.” she detected. 

“He seems like it.” you agreed. 

--

Potions class with the Slytherins was a joined class with the Gryffindors. This was one of the many classes that you had with other houses and one of the few that was shared with the Gryffindors. Today was promised by Professor Snape to be an interactive class. 

So aside from the usual potion experiments, Snape informed everyone that today’s experiments would be done in the way wherein he would pick pre-made pairs from his list to do the experiment together. 

While you were hoping to be paired with Daphne or anyone that was willing to let aside the ill-minded questions on their minds to focus on the experiment with you, Draco was hoping to be paired with you. 

Being a table behind you, he didn’t have to look back at you and pray that he was going to be paired with you. He had the chance to look in front of him and watch your reaction when you finally get picked to be with him. 

To kill the suspension throughout the whole classroom, Snape grabbed the list on his desk and stood in front of the class. 

“Greengrass and Zabini.” 

Draco watched as Daphne, your seatmate, pouted and waved goodbye as she moved out of her seat to be with Blaise. He felt like Merlin was in his side as the chances of being paired with you only grew higher. 

“Potter and Granger.” 

Draco rolled his eyes and wanted to throw his head back. ‘Nobody gives a damn!’ he impatiently said to himself. 

“Y/L/N and McLaggen.” 

Draco’s heart felt like stopping as he heard a name that was not his be paired with you. He looked at McLaggen who smirked to himself as he started moving his way to your table. 

“Malfoy and Weasley.”

“Oh, come on!” Ron complained, only for Snape to smack him in the head with his list. Draco was too discontented to see Cormac take the spot he was yearning for that he didn’t even have the emotion to bark at Ron for being his partner. 

Throughout the entire experiment, Draco’s eyes were on the table in front of him. As every second passed, he kept praying that Cormac would somehow get poisoned from inhaling whatever ingredients he could have misplaced, making him run to the Hospital Wing so he could stop looking at you with such puppy eyes. 

Despite being the best potion student of the class, Draco was really off his game. He couldn’t stop paying attention to you that he would single-handedly make little mistakes throughout the whole experiment that Ron started getting annoyed by. Even if Ron wasn’t one of the best potions students, he had to fix the mistakes Draco kept filling in with. 

“Bloody hell, Malfoy. I thought you were the top of our class!” Ron complained as he picked up the ingredients Draco had dropped, assuming that he placed it in the pot. “Why are you so lousy all of a sudden?” 

Draco definitely did not hear a single word Ron had said as his eyes and ears were on you and McLaggen. He was listening to how you were trying your best to be patient with Cormac. He was a mess just like Draco, only to find out that he was always a mess in potions. He wasn’t as keen and smart as Draco in this class - he was far from that. He couldn’t tell which ingredient was which, which made you wonder how he’s been getting by with potions class. 

“Why don’t I do the experiment for us?” you irritatingly suggested. “You can still experience the experiment by observing.” 

“I’m terribly sorry, Y/N,” Cormac playfully pouted, “I’m such a mess when it comes to these things.”

Draco rolled his eyes, muttering to himself that Cormac was indeed a terrible mess in general. He then watched Cormac rest his head on the palms of his hand as he watched you continue with the experiment like a hopelessly in-love puppy. Draco wanted to smack the head of Cormac for being such an annoying person, not doing his job, and looking at you in the way he wanted to look at you. 

“You know, Y/N,” Cormac said, “You’re really good at potions. I bet you do all sorts of talents with your hands.” 

Draco narrowed his eyes in anger, holding the table with such grip as he was trying to compose himself from breaking out and hexing the life out of Cormac. How dare him have the audacity to say such a thing to you! Where were his manners? This was an outrage! Draco couldn’t take it anymore. He looked at you, heavily focused on the experiment that you did not hear the last thing Cormac said. 

“Uh-huh.” was all you said. 

“Do you think you could perhaps tutor me in potions?” Cormac asked, “I know a secluded spot for the two of us in the library.” He wriggled his eyes, expecting that you were going to turn to him and accept the offer gladly. 

“No thanks, McLaggen.” you nonchalantly declined the offer as you were still focused on brewing the experiment. “Pass me the whisk, will you?” 

As Cormac passed the whisk, there was a lingering touch from his hand as he tried feeling the smoothness of your hand for a little longer. You turned to look at a grinning McLaggen as you aggressively took the whisk away from him, removing his touch from you with a disgusted look. 

“You’re welcome.” Cormac sounded as if he depended on the thanks he was waiting for. You just gave him a scoff as you didn’t even bother looking back at him. 

Draco was furious from the inside. He asked himself, ‘How could Merlin bring such a badly behaved and disgusting person like Cormac McLaggen into this world?’ As he angrily chopped more ingredients, he couldn’t stand witnessing monstrosities like this. Then again, there were many boys that probably tried courting you without him there, so the unknown number of attempts that he wasn’t there to fend off made him grow more furious than he already was. 

--

After class, you made your way to the one place where you could easily gather your thoughts. 

The Black Lake. 

If Draco Malfoy claimed the Astronomy Tower as ‘his place’, then the Black Lake was yours. You didn’t have to travel a flight of stairs to gather your thoughts. It only took you a good walk away from the castle to make it to the famous lake. 

The Black Lake was the place where you could distress yourself from the immense workload your classes would give you. It was the place where you could talk to yourself, vent and rant to yourself about the things that bother you. It was the place you could be at for hours. 

There were barely people who normally hung around the lake as they were scared of Merpeople dragging them into the water. It was nonsense. Of course there were merpeople but people had to understand that they lived in the bottom of the lake. Why would they swim to the top-most part of the lake and attempt dragging people down with them?

When you finally arrived at your favorite place, you rested your back on one of the massive rocks by the trees to get a perfect view of the lake. You opened up your Defense Against the Dark Arts book, attempting to learn more things in advance. This class may have not been your strongest class, but it wasn’t the weakest class either. But either way, you wanted to do some advance reading since you did not have anything else to do for the day. 

“Now,” you said, turning to the next page, “Which spell should I learn today?” Your eyes were looking through familiar spells that you either have tried out before or did not interest you. You flipped to more pages, searching for more interesting spells but you ran out of luck. The ones you wanted would have caused mass destruction in a place such as the Black Lake. Also, extreme spells were not allowed to be practiced alone. 

Feeling defeated, you closed your Defense Against the Dark Arts Book and sighed, placing it back on your bag. “I suppose watching the Lake for awhile would suffice,” you said to yourself as you hugged your knees, watching the body of water that the lake had embodied. 

“Perhaps I could be of use for entertainment.” said a voice that had come out of nowhere. 

Surprised by the voice, you had looked left and right to see where the voice might have come from. But there was nobody. Suddenly, hands covered your eyes, blocking your sight and turning everything you saw into darkness. 

“Guess who.” said the same voice that had now whispered into your ear. The thrills that ran along your spine could only mean one thing. Cormac McLaggen. You furiously grabbed a hold of his hands and shoved it away from your eyes as you stood up, turning around to push the playful Gryffindor. 

“What the hell, McLaggen!” you screamed, walking a few steps backwards. 

Cormac cheekily smiled, walking a few steps towards you. “Come on, sweetcheeks. I know you’re just trying to play hard to get with silly old me.”

Your eyebrows narrowed in anger as you have heard the most ridiculous thing from his mouth. “You’re out of your mind. I despise boys like you who think they can just come up to me and act all playful with me. Why can’t you bark up another tree for once?!” 

Cormac pulled you and forcefully pressed you against the nearest tree. He stroked your cheek with his left hand while his right hand was carefully holding you tightly in your waist. He leaned into your ear, whispering, “Because,” he said, “you are-”

“STUPEFY!” casted a voice. 

Cormac’s body had flown off of you and into the ground, ten meters away from you. You exhaled in relief and saw that it was Draco Malfoy who had casted the spell. When he saw that Cormac was unconscious for a second, his eyes went to you. He ran towards you, placing his hands on your shoulder, looking up and down to see if you were hurt. “Are you okay, Y/N? Dammit, if only I had gotten here faster. Merlin’s beard I swear, I already threatened that asshole twice today. If he-”

“MALFOY” Cormac yelled as the Gryffindor tried properly standing on his own. 

Draco saw that McLaggen was almost on his feet. To stall things, he had quickly casted a “Glisseo”, resulting in Cormac to slip and fall on his own bottom as the spell caused him to flatten steps into a slide. Once Cormac fell once again, Draco looked at you with concerned eyes, “My dear, are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I am now that you’re here.” you honestly told him. “He just happened to get in the way, honestly.” 

“Right, well, it’s time I show you what I've been trying to do ever since vile gits like him have been trying to get on you.” Draco said, looking now at Cormac. “Oy!”

Cormac stood up, looking at Draco with sore eyes. 

“Yeah, you great ugly brute! Come at me, Gryffindork!” Draco confidently opened himself. 

McLaggen infuriatingly started dashing towards Draco as if he was a bull that saw Draco holding up a red flag. Before he could jump and tackle Draco onto the ground, Draco did the opposite of lowering his wand and casting, “Wingardium Leviosa!” on Cormac, who began levitating off the ground. 

Your mouth opened with excitement as Cormac demanded that he be let down immediately. Draco’s wand then pointed at the Black Lake which dragged Cormac’s body above the cold-icy lake. When Cormac had realized where he was being placed, there was fear in his eyes as he started whimpering, apologizing and crying. 

“Shall we drench him?” Draco shouted, pretending he was the ringleader of a carnival. 

“No, no, please don’t!” Cormac begged. 

“I think we should!” Draco sounded happy. “And into the water you go!” With that, Draco pointed his wand to the water, bringing Cormac in for a sweet drench. Then Draco abruptly brought him back on air, only for him to place him back on the water. The action of bringing Cormac back down and back up was done continuously for a good five minutes as Draco was amused and entertained by what he was seeing. 

It was funny at first to watch, but five minutes was enough for you. You started to feel bad for Cormac even if he was an awful person to you. 

“Draco?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?” 

Draco scoffed and laughed. “Don’t you think he deserves extreme consequences?” 

“True, but I think that should be enough.” 

“In a minute, I’m nearly satisfied with my doings.” 

Seeing that Draco was focused on the punishment he was giving Cormac, you thought of one way that could possibly prevent him from continuing his doings. You walked closer to him, slowly enveloping him with a soft hug. 

Being unfamiliar with such actions from someone like you, Draco without delay, had lowered his wand, resulting in dropping Cormac into the water, possibly sinking him into the depths of the lake as the water that day was extremely cold. 

The platinum blonde had surprisingly hugged you back even softer than expected as he brushed the strokes of your hair. He placed his chin on your head as he closed his eyes, taking in the fact that the two of you were hugging each other. 

“Thank you, it means a lot to me.” you said.

“I promise you, Y/N, that I will always be there for you. Whether it be fending off jokes like McLaggen or comforting you in any possible way, I assure you, I will be there for you. I won’t let you off my sight.”

“That’s good,” you smiled, “I’m going to do the same thing for you.” 

[iluvyou-xoxo]

high

suna x reader

wc: 2.2k

you were completely in over your head. sure, you had the occasional blunt at a high school party or kickback, but never have you been to something like this.

your senior project about the film industry was just proven wrong as the girls next to you snorted a line off the kitchen countertop. in your suburban neighborhood, the parties portrayed in television or cinema were only that: something that directors and script writers created as they continued to fetishize the high school experience. your paper talked about how odd it was that films focused on the loss of innocence during those four years of hell and how extremely inaccurate the portrayal was.

but here you stand at your first college party since attending university for only about a month now. it was exactly as pictured in every movie that you once would have called “stupid as fuck", and now you wish you had paid more attention. 

everyone seemed to of had experience in these types of gatherings while you stood next to the sink with a red solo cup filled with only water. your roommate had dragged you to this frat house because she had to meet with her dealer and would much rather do it in a public setting. her smart decision was only your downfall as she had begged you to come too, yet ditched you fifteen minutes ago to go find him even though she said she'd be back in five.

a tall lean figure walked past you but it wasn't his perfect physique that got your attention, it was the strong scent of weed that clung to the cotton of his hoodie. once you looked up to see the ethereal face of rintarō suna, you immediately recognized him as your roommates plug and decided to ask him if he has seen your roommate that seemed to have gone m.i.a. while looking for the person only a foot away from you.

“excuse me,” you called out much louder than how you would usually speak, but the base of the speakers drowned out your voice. although suna had heard you, he didn't look around just in case you were trying to capture someone else's attention. when you timidly tapped the back of his arm with your index finger it was unmistakable you weren’t asking for anyone else.

he slowly turned around and looked down at you with a bored expression and a red flask in his left hand, “yeah?”

“i'm y/n, and I was wondering if you have seen himari; she's my roommate,” you quickly asked as you removed your hand from his soft hoodie that hid the hard muscle underneath.

“oh uh yeah...” suna said, unsure of what else to say.

“well, she said that she was supposed to meet with you quickly but it's been over fifteen minutes now and she hasn't responded to my texts.”

quickly he understood what you were asking, “we met up like ten minutes ago but right now I think she's hooking up with my friend aran.”

instead of responding, you looked down and a small frown pulled the edge of your lips in realization that the person that asked you to come for protection had left you even though she knew this was your college first party— hell, your first real party.

before you had the chance to decide on either waiting for himari to finish or to take your chances walking alone to your dorm room, suna lightly grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the kitchen. the two of you weaved through the bustling function until you reached the front yard that was littered with cups and bottles.

“aran said that he'd meet up with me as soon as they're done so we can just chill in my car ‘til then,” suna said slightly ahead of you with your hand still placed lightly in his as the two of you continued walking.

you were completely sober, yet his skin touching yours had your head spinning and all the danger signs that would have flashed in your head seemed of cut off when you were with him. although this was the first time you've ever conversed with suna, you had a slight crush on the middle blocker that you had seen in school games a few times.

the both of you approached a black car that flashed twice indicating that suna had opened the doors. to your dismay, he let go of your hand and walked to the driver's side as you made your way to the passengers. once inside he pulled out his phone to play some rap song that you had never heard of before and pulled up the middle console to reveal a mason jar with four pre-rolled blunts inside.

“you wanna smoke, doll?” the mysterious man asked.

“i don't have any money on me,” you responded quietly, shifting your gaze to the window next to you. a muffled chuckle interrupted your mile-a-minute thoughts and turned you to see suna show more expression than you had ever seen him hold before.

“baby, you don't need to pay if i offer it to you,” he explained with a light laugh at the end of his sentence. wow, his laugh is beautiful.

“oh, well okay then,” you reply timidly as you watch him take off the lid and reach over to pull a lighter out of the glove compartment.

he takes the first few hits, quickly putting your mind at ease in case it was laced or something, and then brings the joint to you. next, you take two pulls and pass it back, the cycle continuing until the car is filled with smoke and the blunt is near its end.

the silence between you two is comforting as there was no need for awkward conversation. it was just two people in a cloudy car, vibing to one of the many chill playlists that suna had. the weed had hit you full force and you suddenly started to chuckle while thinking about how happy you were that your annoying roommate ditched you, even though in any other circumstance you would be livid.

suna was just appreciating the calm that marijuana gave him until your laughter filled the car. his eyes that naturally hung low seemed to have deepened as he slowly looked over to you and poked your cheek with his pointer finger. “watcha’ laughin’ about?”

your smile didn't leave your face as you looked over to the most beautiful person you have ever laid your eyes upon. “oh nothing,” you said slyly as your smile seemed to only intensify.

“oh really?” he asked while slowly shifting towards you

“yep, really,” you said, but this time closed your eyes with a big smile still plastered to your face.

rather than saying anything else, suna only chuckled and placed a hand on your thigh while shifting in his seat so his head leaned back on the headrest. the small action made you're heart leap and eyes open again and you found suna with a calm look on his face with his eyes closed and head tilted slightly back.

his peaceful face made you realize that he has probably taken many people to his car for a smoke and called them endearing nicknames. rather than feeling dread, something you were sure to have experienced if you were sober, you came to terms that this would be your only chance to be close like this with him again. before you could even think twice about it, you reached over the middle console to grab his cheek and quickly brought his lips to yours.

either he had experienced this situation many times before or he had expected it, because he immediately kissed you back and not a single muscle tensed at the sudden move on your part. his lips slowly moved with yours and met your tongue with his own.

soon you got frustrated because even though you were making out he wasn't doing much else. you thought that by now he would understand that you wanted him to take you on the backseat, but he kept the pace slow and his hands stayed in safe places, one holding your mid-thigh and the other on the side of your neck.

you broke your lips from his and even though that pace had been slow, he somehow still managed to take your breath away. “suna, do you not want to touch me?” you asked with insecurity leaking into your tone unknowingly.

“baby, i don't fuck people unless they’re sober,” he said with a slight smile as he looked at you. although you completely understood where this was coming from, you couldn't help the frustrated whine that left your lips.

“then why did you offer to smoke if you knew we wouldn't do it afterward?” you looked down to his lap to he was definitely hard, but his face didn't give anything away.

“well i wasn't really looking to get in your pants just yet, but no need to worry babe, we can always pick up where we leave off,” next suna placed his hand on your cheek and began softly rubbing it.

three hard knocks on the driver's side window grabbed both of your attention. there stood a tall man with beautiful deep skin and you instantly recognized him as aran from the volleyball team.

suna rolled down the window and although most of the smoke had dissipated throughout your make-out session, the final bit remaining went out and drifted into the midnight sky.

“suna please tell me you're ready to go now. i can't keep stalling her forever,” aran said as he let out an exasperated sigh.

“where is she now?” suna asked with slight frustration.

“well, she was dancing with a few of her other friends so i decided to run out and see how you're doing out here. do you need more time?”

normally you would mind your business but now you seemed to let the thoughts you hold fall from your lips. “what are you guys talking about?”

“nothing baby, don't worry about it,” suna brushed you off quickly.

“c’mon suna, i can tell that this is going well since you’ve been in here for almost half an hour,” aran pressed. “i'm pretty sure you're going to have to tell her eventually anyway.”

“okay now i’m really confused” you replied.

suna stayed silent while glaring and aran, but aran only smiled at you while slightly shaking his head. “this boy has had me distracting your roommate while he tried to sneak in some alone time with you.”

the idea of suna, the most handsome boy in all of japan, creating a plan just to talk to you made you almost want to laugh at how farfetched it was. but shortly after glancing at suna to find him holding a slight blush on his cheeks and shooting his friend a glare, you understand that this was actually the truth.

there's an awkward silence between the three of you and aran was the first to break it. “well i'm gonna dip real quick, but i’m only stalling her for five more minutes so you better wrap this up.”

he quickly turns away and walks back into the party as suna rolls the window up again refusing to make eye contact with you.

“do you like me?” you cut quickly to the chase as your excitement can barely be contained.

suna has yet to meet your eyes but when he nods his head indicating yes you smile brightly at him and quickly place your hand upon his thigh to grab his attention. “you know, you should have just said ‘hi’ to me around campus or something; i like you too.”

when he looks up he holds a sheepish smile and is still dusted pink from embarrassment. “oh shut up and hand me your phone, we don't have much time and i need your number.”

wordlessly you hand your phone over once it's unlocked and on to your contact app.

“well your friend is waiting for you, aran should have already called an uber for you guys”

“well are you going to tell me how you knew id be coming tonight for this elaborate plan to seduce me?” you asked flirtatiously and in a teasing manner.

quickly, suna cupped your jaw and squeezed your cheeks together forming an adorable pout on your face, slowly making ‘tsk’ noises while swaying your head left to right.

“it's time for you to go now, sweetheart. i’m gonna text you later so we can plan a date and maybe ill let you know then.”

your eyes quickly light up at the word ‘date’ and you lightly nod with a smile forming on your face. as soon as he lets you go you lean forward to place a final kiss upon his lips and walk out of the car.

once you finally find himari, you get her into the awaiting uber, wave goodbye to aran, and tell the driver your address. the smile you hold doesn't seem to let up for the rest of the night and once you're tucked in bed at around three in the morning your smile only intensifies at the glow of your phone that holds two new text messages.

maybe: suna- hey, this is suna

maybe: suna- i have a game tomorrow and was wondering if you'd come..?

—————

date: march 18th, 2021

[lloydskywalkers]

let me just start out by saying i love ever single one of your stories!!! i’m pretty new to the show and your works just add so much more feeling to everything and it’s sooo good!!! i don’t know if you ever do requests or not, so don’t bother with this if you’re busy!! but if you ever get a chance could you write smthg abt Jay and Kai? their friendship is so underrated but so good and i live for the moments in the show when Kai’s big brother instinct(tm) kicks in for him as well as Nya and Lloyd

aH thank you so much!! i’m so glad to hear that :D and this isn’t...exactly what you asked for, but Kai and Jay have this fun of dynamic that reminds me a lot of me and my brother, and i’ve been tossing around little bits of interaction between them for a while now, so i tried to make something coherent out of those :’D

Jay likes to think he’s pretty good at the whole compartmentalizing thing, for the most part. Mainly because he actually knows what it means, and it is not, for instance, locking your team up in a literal compartment while rushing off to fight the other compartment that is your resurrected homicidal father into submission.

“That was one time,” Lloyd will grumble, as if he’s only almost-died once. And then Jay will flinch, because that’s where his compartments come into play.

(Nadakhan gets one, Unagami gets another, the whole fun-times adoption reveal another, and everything else can get stuffed into the metaphorical attic since they won’t pay rent.)

Unfortunately, the attic is where the bad stuff lives.

Metaphorically.

If Jay had a nickel for every time he almost lost all of his friends, he’d have two nickels, plus another nickel for Cole falling into the fog, and another for Lloyd getting crushed by a roof, and another for Zane blowing up, and another for Nya in that awful dress with paling skin as her breathing stutters and the light in her eyes draining and —

And Jay is way, way too familiar with how it looks when his family dies, and all the nickels in the world won’t help that.

So while Jay likes to think he’s pretty good at compartmentalizing, he also thinks he’s got a valid excuse for the way he reacts when Lloyd goes down in the fight that afternoon. Sure, some vague part of his mind remembers that they’ve got a plan they’re running, and Lloyd should easily be able to handle a tiny little stumble — but Jay’s mind is stuck in glaring oranges and health bars, the unsteady gasping noise Lloyd had made before he went down, dissolving into digitized cubes just like everyone else, and Jay—

Jay can’t handle that, compartments or not, so he clears the space between them in a heartbeat just in time to take the bullet that comes hurtling Lloyd’s way.

It’d probably be a very noble and touching scene, if one) Jay didn’t make a hideous squeaking noise when it hit because bullets hurt, and two) the bullet would have missed Lloyd by a good two feet anyways.

Ah well, he thinks, as everything devolves into panicked yelling. It’s the thought that counts.

Except thoughts do not count when Kai is involved, apparently. Or any of the rest of the team, for that matter.

“What is wrong with you?” Kai hisses right in his face, eyes wild and sparking. “I was covering Lloyd, what were you doing?”

“Filling in for you, obviously,” Jay retorts. He has an excellent followup to that, real snappy and all, except that’s the moment Kai’s hand clamps down on the bullet wound in his arm to stop the bleeding, and Jay ends up stifling a shriek instead.

Great, he thinks, fighting back stinging tears of pain as he tries not to take Kai’s apparent wrath too personally. At least Cole looks worried, along the the rest of the team, who are dutifully concerned for his wellbeing like proper teammates should be.

“He’s going to need the hospital,” Zane informs them, his voice a lot steadier and calmer than his words make Jay feel. Zane’s eyebrows furrow as he studies his arm. “Stitches, probably.”

Jay swallows, trying not to curse. There’s a sharp scream as Nya finishes taking out another attacker just beyond them, and Jay figures that’s good enough.

“Okay,” Lloyd says, squeezing Jay’s wrist briefly. Either in comfort about the stitches or thanks for trying to cover him, Jay’s not sure. It’s a nice gesture, nonetheless. “Kai, Cole, can you get him there while we finish up? Sooner the better.”

Cole gives a sharp nod, and offers to take Jay from where Kai’s got him in a death grip. Kai shakes his head, and Jay’s stomach sinks. Sure enough, as soon as they’re clear of the scene, Kai starts going off.

“What did you mean, ‘filling in for me’,” he grinds through his teeth, clearly not about to let this go.

Jay bristles in response at his tone. “I meant,” he bites out, through a hot flare of pain in his arm. Kai’s always merciless with the bandages, even when he’s not in a mood. “That you weren’t there. So I covered.”

He should leave it at that, but Jay’s in a foul enough mood to finish with a condescending, “You’re welcome.”

Kai’s expression grows thunderous. “You didn’t need to. I was right there, you shouldn’t have — you weren’t needed, you should’ve held back.”

Jay feels his chest go tight. His head is clouding with anger, and the pain in his arm isn’t helping, but — ‘you weren’t needed’? Kai really didn’t skimp on the jerk juice this morning, did he.

“Oh, like you could’ve done so much better,” Jay glares. “Lloyd would’ve been toast by the time you got to him.”

“I could’ve made it!”

“Yeah right—”

“I would have, and I wouldn’t have gotten hit!” Kai snarls back. Something in Jay snaps. Or maybe it’s just the steadily increasing blood loss, but of all the nerve—

“Well you didn’t, ‘cause you weren’t there!” he snaps back. “You were too slow, which is real funny since your brain is too!”

It’s not his best comeback, he’ll admit, but Kai looks as if he’s about to light him on fire, if he weren’t stuck carrying Jay like the cover of some awful romance novel, blood getting all over his uniform as they both scream at each other. Maybe Jay will get lucky, and Kai will combust, and they’ll both go up in flames before they can remember that Cole is right there watching them.

“Cut it out, now!”

Oops, too late. For all the incensed authority in Cole’s voice, there’s still a traitorous falter that lets them both know they’ve screwed up. They fall silent, the atmosphere heavy with the lingering tension and new sense of guilt.

And the disgusting sound of Jay’s blood leaking through the makeshift bandage and hitting the ground, truly revolting, he hates blood.

“Just…no more. Please, shut up until we’re at the hospital.” Cole marches forward, snatches Jay from Kai’s arms, and proceeds to beat the fastest route to the hospital at a militant pace.

Jay still looks like some helpless romance cover heroine, dangling from Cole’s arms like he is. It occurs to him that he doesn’t even need to be carried — it’s his arm that’s hurt, he can still walk—

But any protests die rapidly at the look on Cole’s face. And at least this way, Jay thinks sullenly, he can fixedly ignore Kai.

Then again, Kai’s got a killer glare, and Jay’s always been garbage at ignoring people when his feelings are hurt.

* * * * * * * *

Despite the fuss everyone makes, Jay’s arm really isn’t that bad. They hook him up with some pretty sweet meds so he remembers zero of the actual arm-fixing, and he wakes up just in time to complain about being held in the hospital for ‘observation’ or whatever.

“It’s to make sure there’s no infection, or that you don’t rip your stitches out,” Nya tells him pointedly. Jay cringes under the look she gives him at that last part. Geez. You get kicked in the stitches one time after sneaking out early and suddenly no one’s got any faith in you. Typical.

“Why couldn’t we have just gone to medbay,” Jay grumbles. “Pixal gives way better stitches than this, anyways.”

“Gun wounds get hospitals,” Nya reminds him. “And it’s not fair to put that kind of pressure on Pix when we can avoid it.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

Nya glares at him. “It most certainly was that bad.”

“Oh, so when you get your arm crushed by a car, it’s fine,” Jay glares back. “But when I get a tiny little bullet nick, it’s that bad.”

Nya rolls her eyes, ignoring him. “Just think of it this way,” she says. “Now you have a little more time before Lloyd starts weeping apologies all over you.”

“Aw, no,” Jay groans, leaning back in the hospital bed. “Tell me he’s not blaming himself, Nya.”

“I think we had a promise about not lying to each other, or something,” Nya says, sympathetically. She winces. “Pretty sure he made the connection, too.”

Jay frowns. “What connection?”

Nya shifts, her eyes darting from side to side. “The, uh, the whole…Prime Empire, thing.”

Jay stares at her for a beat, trying to reconcile his blatant shock with the roiling nausea at the mention in his stomach. Nya looking at him all kind and sympathetically isn’t helping, either, because she might have made it down to the final two, but she was never all alone, and the reminder that she’d have been fine if Jay hadn’t gotten her killed twice is—

Bad. Real bad, not good, zero out of ten stars. Maybe he can take a bullet for Nya, next, and that’ll — that’ll help things, maybe. Equivalent exchange? Restitution? Some kind of fancy word that means Jay swears he’s gonna make it up.

In the meantime, he smothers the rising sickness in his throat and sinks lower into the bed, sulking. “It’s too easy to recognize trauma in this team.”

“I hear you,” Nya sighs, wearily. She nudges his shoulder, rising from her seat near the bed. “Speaking of. Someone’s got something they want to say to you.”

It takes Jay a second, but his eyes widen as Nya heads for the door. “Wait, wait wait wait, don’t you dare—”

“Love you,” Nya says cheekily, before taking her merry leave of the room. There’s a brief scuffle from outside, and the sound of Kai yelping, before Nya shoves him through the door, slamming it shut behind him with a damning click.

For a second, Jay’s tempted to hit the ‘call nurse’ button as hard as he can, in some desperate attempt to escape. Then he gets a good look at Kai, who’s turned a pale, queasy color that frankly looks awful on him, which is saying a lot ‘cause there isn’t much that doesn’t look good on Kai, but the expression he has on now—

Aw, man, now Jay’s feeling guilty and it isn’t even his fault. Stupid moral conscience center, he curses himself.

“So, uh…” he begins, because far be it from him to let this kind of awkward silence stretch on any longer. “Nice, ah, weather we’re having?”

Kai doesn’t respond, staring fixedly at the floor, and Jay sizes up the ‘call nurse’ button again. Just for the both of their sakes, of course.

But then Kai takes a deep breath, blows it out, and rocks back on his heels, fiddling with his hands. “I, um. I’m sorry.”

Jay’s jaw drops open. Which is probably an overdramatic move, all things considered, but unless he’s suddenly lost the ability to understand words, Kai just apologized to him.

Kai apologized. To him.

It’s not that Kai apologizing is some great big deal — Kai might have his pride, but he’s also an intuitive and good-hearted person who knows when he’s messed up. But to him?

Jay knows how he and Kai work. Kai knows how he and Jay work, and he’s breaking the rules. Because Kai and Jay don’t apologize to each other. Unless it’s some awkward expression of sympathy, they’ve never needed to. They fight dirty, aim for each other’s kneecaps, swear eternal vengeance and hatred at each other before storming off, then an hour later Jay’s bounding into Kai’s room to show him dumb meme videos and neither of them even remember what they were fighting about.

Acknowledging said fight with something as gushy as apologizing is not only useless since they both forget what they’re apologizing for anyways, but also useless because it’ll take too much time, and counterproductive on top, because it’ll most likely end in another fight about who apologized better. So for Kai to walk in and say sorry—

“Oh no, who did you kill?” Jay says, paling.

Kai spears him with a look, but it’s so pathetically watered-down and miserable that Jay forgets to glare back.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jay mutters. “I just—”

“No, no, I’m the one who’s sorry,” Kai interrupts. He hesitates, then sighs. “But that’s fair. I — I was unfair. To you, back there. Like, really unfair, in a bad way, ‘cause you were shot and I know you meant well, but you—”

Kai gestures wildly with his hands, his stream of words cutting off. Jay is left to stare open-mouthed at him again. Babbling like this is Jay’s thing. Kai is breaking all the rules today, huh.

“I just…” Kai trails off, ducking his head. “I don’t like watching you guys get hurt. I don’t — I don’t like watching you get hurt. And I get scared, but it comes out angry, and then I make a mess of things so I’m — sorry. Really sorry, for biting your head off.”

He exhales, a little shaky, fingers balled up in tight fists as his head hangs low, refusing to meet Jay’s eyes. Something softens in Jay’s chest, like gooey melting butter or something else equally pathetic. But it’s rare that Kai vocalizes this stuff, despite the fact that Jay knows he cares, and it’s nice to hear it, so he figures he’s entitled to all the butter he wants.

Jay’s own gaze falters, and the something starts to twist. He bites his lip, tugging half-heartedly at the bandages around his arm.

“Well,” he pauses, thinking of the way his brain had shifted to autopilot when he’d watched Lloyd falter, the razor-sharp shard of terror that always splinters through him when any of their teammates come too close to the awful images of death left in his head. He swallows. “I guess I don’t really have any room to talk,” he murmurs. “Be pretty dumb if I blamed you for that.”

He’s preparing to sink back into his own well of self-pity and loathing, resigned to spending the next few hours until they check him out of the hospital replaying bad memories in his head, when Kai’s next to him all of the sudden, shoving him over on the hospital bed.

“Hey, hey, what’s the big idea—”

“Move, c’mon. You don’t need that much room, you’re a stick,” Kai grumbles, before grinning brightly in success as Jay makes him space. The contrast in expression is enough to startle Jay into silence, and Kai takes advantage. “I know that look. But you already got shot, so you gotta cheer up now.”

“So you’re forcing me into cheerfulness by stealing my hospital bed,” Jay scowls, but the sting is lost in the sudden surge of affection as Kai elbows his way on the bed with him, a steady warmth by his side.

“I’m gifting you my presence, you should be celebrating,” Kai huffs, as he pulls his phone out. “Now stop looking so sad and watch this video I got of a bunch’a geese chasing Zane at the park the other day.”

“You’re such a jerk,” Jay says, but he’s already snickering as he leans his head against Kai’s shoulder to get a better look.

He’s forgotten to tell Kai he forgives him, but like most things between them — Jay doesn’t really need to say it out loud.

[sweetchup]

A Helping Hand 4: Ghosts of Past // Day 2

Type: Shalnark x reader

Au?: Savior Au

Word Count: 1,700+

Warnings: Trauma, Airplanes

Author Note: I hope people enjoy!! I planning on Part 3 coming out tomorrow but I’m struggling a little on the chapter and I have some Headcanons to get through so it might come out Sunday instead.

<—(Pt.4.1) / (Pt.4.3☀️)—>

A Helping Hand Masterlist

Sleigh bells ring, are you listening?

In the lane, snow is glistening

A beautiful sight

We're happy tonight

Walking in a winter wonderland…

“Ladies and Gentlemen. Thank you for flying with Amazon Aircrafts this afternoon. We will be landing in York New in about 5 minutes. If you would please, buckle up your—“

Suddenly as the Flight Attendant was announcing your descent, you feel your shoulder being tapped at.

“In a second…” You murmur out, too absorbed in the book you were reading. You were hoping to finish this last chapter before you got off the plane but as you feel another nudge at your shoulder, it is now highly unlikely you will.

“What do you— Shal!”  You gasped out, quickly shutting your book with a thud once you saw what he was doing. “You can’t take Chloe out of her crate on the aircraft!”

“But (Y/nnnnn),” Shalnark whines out, cradling Chloe closer to him so you couldn’t take her away, “I just want her to watch the aircraft landing with me.”

“Shal. You can’t be serious.” You deadpanned at him. You can’t believe Shalnark has only known this cat for less than a day and he is already so attached to her. Hell, he even whined for a whole hour when you thought about allowing a friend to babysit Chloe instead of bringing her on the trip.

“Fine. Fine. Just don’t get us caught please?” You sighed out, giving up on convincing the childish man next to you.

“Thank you (y/n)!” Shalnark shouts out gleefully, “By the way, you should watch the landing with us. York New City is amazing at sunrise.”

“Uh…” You look down awkwardly at the middle seat—currently holding Chloe’s crate—in between you two. “There’s not much room— oof!”

Suddenly, before you can even finish your sentence, Shalnark grabs your arm and pulls you towards him. For a man that is injured, he sure had amazing strength. Then again, he was able to break your hand the first time you two met when he was in a way worse condition.

“(Y/n) Are you listening?” Shalnark calls out to you, his voice right next to your ear surprising you.

“Uh. N-no sorry,” You choked out. Your head feeling like it was spinning once you noticed that you were basically being cradled to his side; With one hand pressed against the small of your back to keep you still.

“I was saying look at the clouds. They are so pink, they almost look like cotton candy.” Shalnark murmurs out, his minty breath fanning at your face. However, even though you should probably look at the clouds like Shalnark said, you can’t bring yourself to look. Your attention was trapped on Shalnark’s piercing aquamarine blue eyes that were staring down at you. Honestly, in your opinion, getting to see his eyes up so close was much better than any natural view that he could show you. “(Y/n)...?”

Startled by his sudden call, you feel yourself snap out of the trance you were in.

“O-oh yeah they are.” You stutter out turning your attention away from Shalnark. Also missing how he was leaning in towards you as you pull away.

That would prove to be the longest aircraft descendent of both of yours entire life.

—.—.—.—.—.—

“Ah finally here!” You yell out, dropping your bags down on the hotel room floor and flopping onto the bed. You hear Shalnark chuckle at your silliness before dropping his bags as well.

At the sound of his racing feet, you let out a yelp in surprise as you see him jump at you. His arms and legs bent so he doesn’t land on top of you and crush you as he falls.

“Shal!” You yell out, slapping his chest playfully. “You shouldn’t do that sort of thing. Especially with those injuries.”

“Sorry Doc.” Shalnark teases out before flopping over next to you, causing you to giggle as the bed springs up and down. As you stare up at the ceiling, you think how you were just glad Shalnark was getting back to his old self again. Getting out of that stuffy hospital definitely helped him. Though…

You turn your head to look at Shalnark. A question still on your mind ever since late last night when he spontaneously suggested this trip.

“Hey Shal.”

“Yeah?”

The bed squeaks underneath you as you shift your body, now laying on your side to look at him. “Why did you want to go to York New of all places?”

There is a silent pause that drifts through the air. You watch as Shalnark lifts himself up from the bed to lean back on his elbows, seeming to think about what to answer.

“I…” Shalnark’s words seem to die in his throat. It takes him a couple of seconds before he can start again, “It just felt right coming here… It was the final place the troupe went before everything went to shit.”

As you look up at Shalnark, his face has turned away from your gaze, making you unable to read his expression. Carefully, you shift closer to him; offering him some comfort as you wrap a single arm over his elevated waist.

As you feel his larger hand come over to cover your own, his thumb caressing at your knuckles in a silent reassurance that he was okay, you couldn’t help but wonder what you would uncover about Shalnark on this trip. Likely a side you’ve never seen before.

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

“Are you sure Chloe is going to be okay being left alone in the hotel room?” You ask Shalnark for the fifteenth time since you've left the hotel. Your eyes looking around at the many neon signs that lit up the night sky as you two walked through the bustling streets of York New.

“Positive. … Ah! Here it is,” Shalnark calls out, causing you to turn to look at the place he had taken you.

“The York New Auction Hall?” You mutter out confused,

looking at the elegant building in front of you. Why had Shalnark taken you here of all places? You understood he was a thief and all but…

“Shal.” You whispered to the male next to you as he was typing something into his phone. “You do realize I’m not going to steal anything on this trip, right?”

Shalnark looks up from his phone to give you an amused look; slightly chuckling to himself before grabbing your hand and dragging you into the building with him. All the while getting confused looks by the guest inside as you enter; all of whom wore formal outfits that looked like they cost more than your entire fortune.

“Shal—“ You are stopped short of completing what you are saying as, all of a sudden, two ladys hook their arms around yours and drag you off somewhere. “Woah! Hey!”

You look at Shalnark for help but he only gives you a grin before following two other gentlemen nearby.

After a couple of minutes of being dragged, you are finally placed into a room, stumbling slightly over your feet as you enter. As you look around the room, you find it very hard to see from how dark it is. However, before you can even straighten yourself out and take a closer look, you feel a pair of hands grab at your shirt and yank it over your head.

“H-hey I—“ You are cut off yet again as you feel another pair of hands unzip your pants. After a lot more yelps of surprise from your end and touching from the strangers, you are suddenly let go and pushed out of the room. “H-hey wait I don’t have any clothes… on…”

You don’t finish your sentence as you look agape at the reflection in front of you. Hesitantly, you turn yourself around and do a twirl, slowly taking in yourself. Dressed in a sparkling velvet dress with your makeup lightly done; You could hardly recognize yourself.

“Oh wow.”

And, it seemed as though you weren’t the only one impressed by your own beauty.

Quickly turning yourself at the sudden voice, you see Shalnark standing there; dressed in a classic black suit. With his hair lightly gelled back—except for a couple of blonde strands that couldn’t seem to stay put—you could get a clear look at the red blush that covered his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“U-uh.. umm..” Shalnark stumbles over his words for a couple of minutes as he stares at you before suddenly getting a hold of himself and clearing his throat, “H-here.”

Swiftly, Shalnark pulls out a bouquet of red roses behind his back and extends them out to you. As you take the flowers from his hold, your fingers ever so slightly graze his, causing his blush to only worsen.

“Shal—“ “(Y/n)—“

You both paused for a second, staring at each other owlishly before trying again.

“You first—“ “You first—“

This time you can’t hold back the giggle that escapes from your lips, “You first, Shal.”

Shalnark quickly nods his head at your words, ever so slightly fidgeting with his tie as he suddenly feels as if it was strangling him. With blood rushing to his ears and a nervousness he hasn’t experienced since he was a kid, Shalnark takes a shaky deep breath.

“You don’t have to answer me right now. I don’t actually expect you to. I J-just…” Shalnark lets out a sigh, frustrated with how nervous he suddenly was. “Just… let me have you for tonight.”

“Only for tonight?” You questioned out loud, bashfully playing with the petals of one of the roses as you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“Well, I’ve never felt this way about anyone else so I wanna do it right.” Shalnark rubs the back of his neck as he looks away, “... Not too fast, no pressure…”

Lightly, you stuff your face into the flowers to hold back the grin that has etched its way onto your face as Shalnark encases his hand in yours. Even though you have held his hand many times before, this time feels different.

“...just going with what happens.”

Taglist: @meromelodi, @quartetstarheaven , @yumezai, @lvndrhwis, @writtenappreciation, @jojo-sinner, @pastelbear12, @aly-kurta, @bbunnycore , @feifood, @akobere7u7, @aleksa784

[ssa-babygirl]

Out of my League [Part 5]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: 4.1k

Summary: A night out with the team leaves you and Spencer with so much unsaid, despite how much he spills to you while you’re drunk and half asleep. 

Warning(s): Mentions of past addiction, alcohol consumption, some swear words, mentions of past bullying, EXTREME PINING

Author’s Note: I told yall this chapter wouldn’t take 10 years. just like... a week and a half. I promise I’ll do better lmao also enjoy the fluff cuz uh,, yall are gonna hate me next chapter oops

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

Washington D.C., 2009

(Reader POV)

Rossi’s dinner party would not be the last time Spencer had to drive your drunk ass home. It happened two or three in the two years since that night. Dave meant it when he said you were one of them. Whenever they went out for drinks after a case, you would get a text from one of the girls asking if you wanted to come. Your mom living a few blocks away from you was helpful because you just needed to drop Jamie off and head over to O’Keefe’s. You very rarely went overboard because you normally had to drive home, but tonight was not one of those nights.

The team had just gotten back from a local case in Bethesda, so Emily offered to pick you up on her way back. Hotch gave them all the rest of the night off after they made the arrest, but Spencer, always the workaholic, still wanted to finish up his paperwork before going out. 

Your mom came to get Jamie and take him back to her house, so you were free to get all dressed up for a night on the town with your friends. You didn’t want to look too formal since most of them were still going to be in their work clothes, so you got out a cute green button-down blouse and tucked it into some high-waisted jeans. You put on your favorite locket and let your hair down. You went with a light makeup look, just brows, cheeks, and lashes. You were all set by the time Emily pulled up in front of your place. You strapped up your wedges and grabbed your purse, heading out the door, excited to see everyone after they’d been so busy.

“Hey! You look nice!”

“And you’re not so bad for fresh off a crime scene.”

“Should’ve seen me catch the guy, I looked amazing.”

“I’m sure you did, Em.”

Emily told you about the case, or rather just the ending. You only liked to hear her stories when they had happy endings. This one was pleasant enough, but you had a feeling that she was leaving some details out since it was apparently so bad that even Spencer would be tagging along for drinks.

When you got to the bar, Derek and Penelope were already sitting at a booth in the back with Aaron and Dave. Penelope hopped up from her seat to give you a hug as soon as you approached the table. 

“Hey, there she is,” Morgan smiled over his beer.

“Reid’s not driving tonight?” Aaron asked.

“He texted me, he’s on his way, he wanted to finish his paperwork back at the precinct.” 

“So what I’m hearing is you finally have time to tell us stories about Reid in high school,” Dave said with a smirk.

“No, come on, he’ll kill me,” you settled into the booth.

Emily snorted, “I’d be surprised if he even found it in him to be mad at you.”

“Oh, it’s happened before.” Your face scrunched up at the memory of what happened that day on the football field.

“Really?” Penelope seemed shocked.

“Yeah I’d… Rather not talk about it.” You didn’t know if Spencer had told the team about the Alexa Lisbon incident, so you didn’t want to talk about how he had been so angry with you for babying him. 

“Oh, come on, the kid was in love with you,” Derek prodded, “What’d you do?”

You elected to ignore his comment, “No, it was just stupid.” You could still talk about Kyle, though. The team knew the story of how you’d met Spencer, they just didn’t know about how upset he was when he found out you got back together with Kyle just a few months after you dumped him.

“We love hearing about the stupid things you did!” Garcia squealed.

You stared at the table and fiddled with a napkin to avoid eye contact as you said, “I dated one of his bullies.”

Dave was the first to break the silence, “But Reid said you broke up with him when you found out.”

You bit your lip and hesitated before owning up to it, “Did he tell you that Kyle is Jamie’s dad?”

Emily gasped, “No way!”

“We barely spoke outside of tutoring after that between him being scared of Kyle and basketball season. We were both busy with our teams.”

“Reid played basketball?” Aaron asked, amused.

“He was the coach.” You managed to crack a slight smile, “Budget cuts. But, hey, it was for the best, that was our best season in years.”

“Hard to believe he could focus on strategy with you cheering from the sidelines.” Derek wiggled his eyebrows and took another sip of his beer.

You were quick to change the subject, “So is JJ coming?”

Emily shook her head, “She went home after the case cuz she missed Henry.”

“Oh that boy is the sweetest little thing, I miss when Jamie was that little.”

Aaron sipped his whiskey, “How old is he again?”

“Ten. I’m old, don’t remind me, it’s fucking me up.”

“Ah! Language, bella.”

“Sorry Dave. But speaking of getting effed up, I’ll go get the next round.” You stood and took everyone’s drink orders: Dave and Aaron were sharing an expensive bottle that Dave had already paid for, Emily wanted a martini, Derek just asked for another beer, while Penelope ordered the most elaborate cocktail on the menu, but luckily it was her usual, so you had it pretty much memorized by now. 

You strolled up to the bar and gave the bartender the order, which he got right on. He started with giving you Derek’s beer, then Em’s martini, then your rum and coke, before getting to work on Penelope’s ridiculously fruity drink. An older man stalked into your field of view with a beer in his hand, grinning dumbly. 

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

You snorted, “Has that line ever worked?”

“Truth be told, I’ve never used it.”

“Well you don’t have a great success rate right now, bud.” You looked over the man’s shoulder and made eye contact with Penelope, who turned to Derek and gave him a heads up.

“Well let me buy you a drink, maybe it’ll work better the second time around.”

“Oh, no, thank y—”

“No, come on, what’s one drink?”

You grabbed the tray with everyone’s drinks and started to pass him, “I should really get back to my friends.”

“Hey, I won’t keep you long,” He caught you by the arm and the last thing you saw before he turned you to face him again was Penelope leaping up from her seat to let Derek through, “what are you drinking?”

“Babygirl, how long does a beer take?” Derek stepped up behind you and placed a delicate hand on the small of your back, “This guy bothering you, doll?”

The man dropped his hand from your arm, “We were just talking.”

“Really? ‘Cuz to me it seems like you were trying to put the moves on my girl.”

“Babe, it’s fine,” you caught on quickly, placing a hand on Derek’s chest to keep up the ruse of holding him back, “I’m just waiting for Pen’s drink.”

“Get the hell out of here, man.” Derek glares and the other man leaves reluctantly. “You okay?”

You nodded, “Thank you.”

“Hey, no problem, sweetheart.” He withdrew his hand from the small of your back, “Wouldn’t want Pretty Boy to get jealous.”

You felt your face heat up as your eyebrows knit together, feigning confusion.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, you can’t seriously tell me you don’t see it.”

You played dumb, “See what?”

He sips his beer, “You don’t need to be a profiler to see the way he looks at you, Y/N.”

“Oh, god, first my mother, now you too?”

“I’m serious, I’ve only seen him like this one other time.”

“When?”

“On a case a few years ago. There was this actress we were helping out, Lila Archer.”

“Lila Archer? The Lila Archer?”

“Yeah, she had a little crush on Reid for a bit. They made out once.”

“They what?”

He laughed, “What’re ya jealous?”

“No!” Maybe? “It just seems so unprofessional, I wouldn’t have pegged him for a guy who would--”

“Hook up with a movie star? Yeah, I didn’t think so either. It didn’t work out with them, obviously, he said she only felt that way about him because he saved her life.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“Ever thought about how you protecting him his whole life may have had a similar effect?”

“Showing him basic human decency didn’t make him fall in love with me, Derek.”

“No, but saving his life did.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think that’s more of a question for Pretty Boy himself.” Derek nodded his chin over your shoulder. You followed his gaze and saw Spencer coming up behind you, grinning as he neared the bar.

“Hey.”

“Hey, haircut! Lookin’ good!” Your fingers laced through his shaggy locks and messed up his new boy band-esque style.

 A faint blush spread across his cheeks as he fixed his hair, “T-Thanks.”

“When you lovebirds feel like talking to the rest of us, I’ll be at the table with the rest of the team.”

You roll your eyes and turn back to the lanky boy next to you, “Lemme buy you a drink, Spence.” 

“Oh, no thank you. I’m driving. And also did you know--”

“You can just say you don’t want it.”

“No, I do. That’s the problem.”

Your face contorted with confusion until it suddenly clicked, “Oh… Has that ever been a problem for you before?”

“Not anymore, and not alcohol, but yeah.”

“Wait, Spence, why didn’t you tell me? I-I’m not mad, it’s your choice, obviously, but I could have helped.”

“You did.”

“I did?”

“Remember that one time I was too sick to talk on our Saturday call?”

“Yeah?”

“I had just gotten back from a case in New Orleans. Remember Ethan from school?”

You nodded, holding onto every word.

“He’s in a jazz band down there now. He talked me into getting help. When you called, I was at the lowest point of withdrawals, shaking so hard I couldn’t sleep, and completely alone. I almost didn’t pick up, but I knew you wouldn’t accept that,” he laughed nervously, “and when I heard your voice…”

He trailed off, finally meeting your eyes.

“When I said I wasn’t feeling well, you said ‘I’m putting Jamie down for the night, wanna hear his bedtime story?’”

You both found yourselves smiling slightly at the memory. 

“Not once, during any book I’ve read, had I fallen asleep so easily as I did when you read me The Very Hungry Caterpillar.”

He took a deep breath, almost shuddering, “It was the first time I slept without nightmares since Tobias Hankle.”

You remembered that name. He’d come up in conversations from time to time but you never heard anything about his case. He was always a touchy subject for the team, and now you knew why.

“How long ago was this?”

“Almost three years ago.” He didn’t even have to think about it.

“Spence, you could have told me. You can tell me anything.”

“Anything?” He gulped.

You reached for his hand on the bar and felt it tense under your touch. You’d think after how long you’d known him his touch aversion wouldn’t be an issue with you anymore, but apparently not. Feeling your cheeks heat up, you withdrew your hand as if you burnt your hand on a hot stove and let out an awkward scoff, turning away to look back at your friends, who tried and failed miserably at making it look like they weren’t watching you and Spencer. 

“We should…”

“Yeah… w-we should.” Spencer passed you and sat down next to Derek in the booth, leaving you in your usual spot next to Emily with your first of many drinks that night.

            3 Hours Later

(Spencer’s POV)

I helped her into my car and buckled her up after she couldn’t find the seatbelt. When I got into the driver’s seat, I glanced at her to see if she was still conscious, only to see her dopey smile directed at me.

“What?” I laughed nervously.

“Nothing,” she slurred, dragging out the ‘ing’ and turning her head towards the window.

“You okay?”

She nodded and leaned her head against the glass as I pulled out of the parking lot. She was quiet for the most part during the drive, so I assumed she was asleep, so imagine my shock when she piped up as soon as I parked in front of her place.

“Can you walk me in?” she asked as if I could say no to her.

“Of course.” I was going to regardless. I helped her out of the car and she stood on wobbly legs. She groaned and looked at her feet. 

“Hold this.” She shoved her purse into my arms and placed a hand on my shoulder and hopped up to take off one of her heels, tossing it onto her seat before repeating her actions on her other shoe. She grabbed the pair and marched up the path to her front door. I trailed close behind, just in case she stumbled, which she did. 

She fumbled for her key when she suddenly remembered that I had her purse. I dug through the pockets and fished it out, tossing it to her once I got close enough. She instantly giggled as soon as I met her eyes.

“What’s so funny now?”

“Nothing, Spence,” she failed to stifle a smile as she tried to open the door, “You have nothing to worry about.”

I stepped in beside her, “Well you’ve been awfully quiet since we left and now you’re laughing at me!”

“I’m just thinking!”

“That can’t be good,” I joked, prompting her to lightly slap my arm, “Kidding! What are you thinking about?”

“Don’t worry about it!”

“No, now I’m curious!”

“Just something stupid Derek said before you came tonight.”

“Oh jeez, now I have to know.” She climbed up the staircase and down the hallway in front of her bedroom. She twisted the knob and pushed open the door. I stepped in after her and placed her purse down on the dresser. She flopped down on the bed, shuffling under the covers, not even bothering to change out of the clothes she wore to the bar. I grinned down at her. She looked like an angel snuggled up in the sheets.

“Comfy?”

“Very.”

“Good. Call me if you need anything, Y/N,” I started to walk towards the door.

“Did you have a crush on me in high school?”

I paused.

“W-Where’d you get that from?” Nice job, genius, that doesn’t sound guilty at all.

“That’s what Derek said.” She was now sitting up in bed.

Okay, but how did he know that?

“How did this come up exactly?”

She explained how the team was trying to get her to tell them embarrassing stories about me as a kid (sidenote: not cool, guys) and my dear old friend Kyle came up. She said that Morgan brought up transference, where a person experiences something traumatic and associates their “hero” with safety and feelings of relief after being helped.

“He said one girl you helped in a case had feelings for you and the way you explained transference to Derek sounded like you were speaking from experience.”

Great. This is what I get for only having friends on the team. My best guy friend is also a profiler who can read me like a book. Awesome.

I let out a deep sigh and sat down in the chair next to her bed, “I was.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Yeah. Because that’s where it all started for me. A pretty girl told off one of my bullies and showed me basic human decency--”

“Aw, Spence, you thought I was pretty?” She teased, eliciting a chuckle from me.

“Of course I did. Y/N, you were the head cheerleader that came to me for help with chemistry and tousled my hair and bought me McDonald’s whenever our study sessions ran late. To twelve-year-old Spencer you were this perfect, unattainable princess--”

“Princess?” She giggled and it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard, “I like that.”

“Yep.” I laughed with her, “A princess who lived in a beautiful castle with posters on the walls and sparkly beads on the curtains and Doctor Who playing on the TV and a mom that always invited me to stay for dinner and I’m rambling again but that’s perfectly fine with you because you actually cared about what I had to say, especially when I would talk about Shakespeare because A Midsummer Night’s Dream was your favorite assigned reading and--” I stopped myself before it slipped out. 

I love you. I’ve said it a million times to her in a million different ways but I knew at that moment that if I said the actual words that I wouldn’t be able to take them back, not that I would ever want to, I just want her to be present when I told her the first time. If I said it now it would be the first time she’d hear it from me and she wouldn’t even remember it when she woke up.

“And what?” She still smiled at me so brightly that the dimly lit room was lit up by the gleam in her eyes.

I smiled back, “You’re my best friend.”

Her grin somehow grew wider, her eyes scrunching up, but the sparkle was still there, “You’re my best friend too.”

If I hadn’t already decided against it, I would have said it then. I would have repeated those words over and over again until the words lost all meaning, only they never would because they felt like they meant the world to me. But I wouldn’t let myself start. Instead, I just looked at her like she was the moon and stars and all the space in between and said, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Spence, wait,” she murmured, further burying herself in her covers.

“What now?” I whined, the smile still present on my face.

“I think you’re pretty too.” 

It had never been harder for me to resist the urge to kiss her than in that moment. Every fiber of my being screamed to sit back down, lean over her pillow, take her face in my hands, and crash my lips to hers. And for a split second, I thought I would. I almost did. I almost gave myself everything I had ever wanted for sixteen years, four months, and eleven days, but I couldn’t.

“And I think you’re drunk.”

“Spencer Reid!” She squealed, “Just cuz I’m drunk does not mean that you aren’t pretty!”

“Oh really?”

“Yep! ‘Cuz guess what, genius?”

“What?”

“I think you’re pretty when I’m sober, too.”

If I didn’t know any better I’d say she was trying to drive me insane. And you know what?

It was working.

While I was lost in my thoughts, no doubt staring at her, she let out a tiny yawn and snuggled deeper into her pillow. A piece of hair fell in front of her eyes, hooded yet still shining. I brushed the hair out of her face and told her to get some rest.

“Good idea. I’m sleepy,” she dragged out the e and yawned again, “Goodnight, Pretty Boy.”

“Goodnight, princess.” I chuckled softly. My fingers still lingered just behind her ear, so I stroked her hair once more and pressed a small kiss to her forehead once I was sure she was asleep. Her cheeks twitched in a barely conscious smile, making me grateful for my eidetic memory again. I went to the kitchen and took a glass from the cabinet, filling it up in the sink and placing it on the nightstand with some aspirin.

I took a sheet of some stationery and scrawled out a note for her in the morning:

Make sure you stay hydrated. There’s more aspirin in your cabinet but wait a few hours to take it. Call me if you need anything. -S.R.

            The Next Morning

(Reader’s POV)

The coffee machine made too much noise. Your head was pounding despite the fact you took an aspirin a few minutes ago. Now you played the waiting game, hoping it would kick in soon. When the pot was finally done, you poured yourself a cup, hoping it would help wake you up. You normally wouldn’t drink coffee this late, but you needed it. Just as you took your first sip, your mom came through the front door with Jamie in tow carrying his pajamas in a shopping bag. He said good morning to you and ran upstairs to his room.

“Did you just wake up?” 

“Yes.”

“Y/N, it’s almost noon.” You could hear the judgment in her voice.

You took a sip of coffee, “It’s 11:05.”

“I take it you had fun at O’Keefe’s last night?”

“Yeah,” you grumbled, rubbing your eyes.

“How’d you get home?”

“Spence drove me.”

Her eyes widened, excited. She lowered her voice to ask, “Is he still here?”

“Mom!” You whisper-yelled.

“I was just checking!”

“No, he’s not, he dropped me off and went home.” You decided to leave out the whole “putting you to bed” part.

“How’s your hangover?”

“Better with aspirin.”

“Have you been drinking water?”

“A little,” you lied.

“No more coffee until you finish a glass.” She took your mug and dumped its contents down the drain.

“Wh—” You start, “Mom, I’m not a kid.”

“Just drink your damn water.”

“Jesus,” you groan, still making your way to the stairs and heading up to your room, where your water had been put on your nightstand the night before. Under the glass was a note that you didn’t notice when you first woke up. You recognized the chicken scratch handwriting immediately: Spencer.

“Make sure you stay hydrated. There’s more aspirin in your cabinet but wait a few hours to take it. Call me if you need anything. -S.R.”

You smiled as you read the words over and over. You put the note down and took a sip from the glass. You reached over to your phone on the nightstand and dialed his number. It rang twice before Spencer’s voice crackled over the speaker, “Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“Better, thank you.”

“Of course. Did you drink the water I gave you last night?”

“Some of it.”

“Good, did you eat?”

“No.”

“I’m going on my lunch break in a bit, wanna meet up?”

Your heart fluttered at the offer, a small grin tugging at your lips. You nodded, unable to find words enthusiastic enough to express how much you’d like that, before settling on “Yeah! Sounds good!”

“Perfect! There’s a new thai place downtown I’ve been meaning to check out, how about there?”

“Sure! I’ll meet you at Quantico?”

“See you then!”

“Bye,” you all but sighed into the receiver before snapping out of it. You always tried to keep that part of you beneath the surface, but it wasn’t as easy as it used to be. You didn’t remember much from last night, but you did remember calling him pretty boy and making him blush. You remember him tucking you in and calling you princess and brushing your hair out of your eyes. You remembered how your chest swelled with light as he pressed his lips to your forehead, and the soft chuckle he let out seeing you smile against your pillow. 

You hopped in the shower and got dressed, fixing yourself just enough to pass for a functioning adult who did not get sloppy drunk in front of her best friend’s coworkers last night. You told your mom you were going out for lunch, and she happily agreed to babysit for a few hours while you were with Spencer. 

“Have fun on your date!”

“Not a date!” You almost couldn’t tell who you were talking to, her or you.

You got to Quantico about a half-hour later and were met by Dave in the bullpen.

“Oh, look who’s joined the land of the living!”

“Oh, come on, I wasn’t that bad last night. I could have been Penelope.”

“That is true, bella, but it was still a Thursday,” Dave chuckled, “The kid’s in Aaron’s office, he’ll be out in a sec.”

“Thank you,” you said and walked over to Spencer’s desk, sitting down in his chair and making small talk with Emily while you waited. A few minutes later, you saw him walk out of the office, eyes immediately landing on you.

Taglist~~~

Lmk if you wanna be added! Some names didn’t work so if you don’t see your name as a tag just dm me a url and I’ll try to fix it

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[milkypompon]

𝕋𝕠𝕠 𝕃𝕒𝕥𝕖 | Reader x Sokka x Zuko

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𝕀𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖 | Y/N and Sokka crushed on each other for the longest time, but neither of them had the guts to tell about their feelings. Sokka tried to ignore how he felt by flirting and dating other people, which left Y/N confused. Until, Y/N met Zuko, firing up something within Sokka.

𝔸𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣'𝕤 ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖 | I received a good handful of Zuko x Y/N x Sokka, so I’m gonna warm up first with some headcanons! Also, I’ll be writing a Part 2 because I wasn’t able to think of how I want to write the confession part + “smutty 👀” part just yet!

WARNINGS: Fluff! Angst!

𝔼ℕ𝕁𝕆𝕐

Being a waterbender from the Southern Water Tribe meant Y/N spent many of their youthful days splashing water and flicking shards of ice around the snow with Katara. They’d playfully chase the Boomerang Man, also known as Sokka. The three were attached to the hip and the trio grew even closer when they were dragged into the whirlwind of Aang’s Avatar duties.

Progressively, Katara began to blush a little harder everyday around Aang. She’d quietly whisper her subconscious thoughts about the Avatar to Y/N when they’re alone looking for firewood.

Katara clears her throat as she pushes around a pebble with the tip of her boot. “Y’know… Aang has been real nice to me recently,” she said in a small voice.

Y/N bumped their shoulder with Katara’s. “Oh please, that boy has been extra nice to only you,” they rolled their eyes.

She elbowed Y/N’s stomach, earning her a groan. “Anyways! What’s with you making goo-goo eyes with my brother, huh?” Katara raised her eyebrow.

Y/N inhaled sharply, feeling their ears heat up.

Little did the childhood friends know that as the boys picked berries and scavenged for nuts, they were talking about Katara and well, Y/N.

Sokka deadpanned at Aang, gripping his shoulder, “You gotta stop talking about my sister to me… IT’S WEIRD!”

Aang timidly scratched the back of his neck, muttering, “Sorry…”

Sokka sighed, “But, go ahead. You have my blessing. Blah, blah, blah!”

The poor boy lightened up, then his demeanor changed into a teasing one. “Sooooo, what’s with you and Y/N? Eh, Sokka?” Aang clasped his hands together and puckered his lips.

Sokka’s eyes widened, cheeks flushing an embarrassingly red hue. He pushed Aang’s face away with the palm of his hand, “NOTHING! Absolutely nothing! We’re practically like siblings!”

“So stop talking about my TWO SIBLINGS, AANG!” He exclaimed.

Sokka flirted and hit one everyone (everything) that seemed to emanate singleness (well, except for Yue).

He’d ask Y/N for advice on how to catch the eyes of others. It worked of course because who’d turn down the brilliant, handsome, and kind boy?

What Y/N didn’t seem to realize was that Sokka only did this to get his mind off of his childhood best friend. He doubted that a practical sibling could reciprocate his true feelings for them.

Sokka attempted many times before of course, but his throat seemed to tighten and his hands became clammy every time Y/N would look at him with doe-like eyes that sparkled under the moonlight.

So, he continued to play his game of “Let’s break Y/N heart and mine by hooking up with other people!”

When Y/N saw Sokka finally getting together with Suki, they knew it was the end for their possible confessions and relationship. Even though they’d practice in front of the water’s reflection of how they’d confess, Y/N couldn’t muster up the courage to tell Sokka. Y/N wasn’t a homewrecker!

No one, LITERALLY, no one filled in Toph with any of this information, but she just knew! Even Y/N realized that Toph knew.

Y/N would lay on the grass with her at nightfall, detached from the group. They both knew that if Y/N watched Aang snuggle up with Katara, and Sokka’s head nestling on top of Suki’s shoulder, Y/N wouldn’t be able to take it.

So, here they were, Y/N spilling her lonely heart to Toph, who just nodded and hummed with affirmation.

“I don’t understand why I’m doing this to myself,” Y/N’s voice wavered.

After what seemed like ages, Toph sighed, “You know? I don’t either, but you need to find yourself another man.” She turned her back against Y/N and began to snore.

Then, Y/N met Zuko at the Air Temple.

The Gaang was in a fighting stance as the Prince of the Fire Nation, nervously introducing himself.

Y/N locked eyes with Zuko, those fiery ember eyes of his. Y/N blushed profusely, quietly moving behind Toph.

The earthbender elbowed Y/N in the ribs forcefully. “Anyone, but him, dum-dum!” she whispered.

Of course Y/N didn’t listen.

Zuko and Y/N would exchange stares, which progressed to small smiles and waves. They’d voluntarily scavenge for food together and small talk was made as they walked side by side. After a routine was made, they bump shoulders teasingly and joke around.

“ZUKO! THERE’S A SNAKE BEAR NEAR YOUR FOOT!” Y/N exclaimed “WHAT! REALLY-” Zuko froze and looked down immediately, to his relief there was nothing. His face deadpanned and he snapped his fingers to make a small flame. “I’ll set your hair one fire Y/N.”

Y/N doubled over from laughter. “You should’ve seen your face! SNAKE BEARS DON’T EVEN EXIST!”, they wheezed in delight.

None of this went unnoticed by the Gaang, especially Sokka.

Due to the dangerous life of being a Kyoshi Warrior, Suki decided to break things off with Sokka. But deep down, she did it in order to allow Sokka to set things right with Y/N.

Sokka would shoot sharp glares at Zuko and would immediately leave if Zuko approached the Gaang.

Zuko knew that the Gaang didn’t necessarily love him, they at least tolerated him, but Sokka was a different story. And he knew exactly why. He didn’t have the details, but oh how strong his hunch was.

It didn’t stop him from being close to Y/N. Their knees would touch as the team sat around the fire. Zuko didn’t do this to make Sokka jealous, the Prince genuinely felt a flickering warmth spreading throughout his chest when Y/N looked at him. Even just being in the presence of Y/N seemed to make his cheeks flush.

Sokka was fed up with the pair’s interactions. At nightfall, when the Gaang ate dinner around a campfire, he pulled Y/N aside.

Y/N and Zuko conversed and giggled quietly to themselves as they sipped up the last of their soup.

Sokka’s eyes no longer squinted in disgust at the sight, but instead it watered. Everyone seemed to notice at his change of demeanor the past few days, everyone except for Y/N.

He stood up quietly and made his way to Y/N, startling them with his gentle touch on their shoulder. “Can I… uh talk to you Y/N? If it’s alright with you?” Sokka’s voice whispered, the Gaang quieted down. Y/N looked around, earning them similar looks of sadness even from Zuko, finally meeting Sokka’s, they nodded.

The pair walked away with eyes still set on them, which quickly diminished when Aang cleared his throat. Their conversations returned.

Sokka kept a decent distance between him and Y/N, not wanting to make them uncomfortable by the sudden time alone they have together. He sat on a fallen log, dusting it off with his hand.

Y/N could read Sokka like a book. They frowned as he stalled around, “What’s wrong Sokka?”

Sokka looked up, his eyes unreadable. He drew his lips into a thin line, “What’s wrong? What’s wrong? That’s what you’re gonna ask!”

Y/N flinched at his sudden burst. Sokka was the cool and collected one, that simultaneously bounced around with happiness, but now they could only see his color draining.

“I’ve been watching you cozying up with Zuko! You’d give him these looks and he'd look at you back the same way. Those jokes and trips you make with him,” Sokka’s voice raised a pitch higher

“YOU’RE NOT MAKING IT EASIER FOR ME EITHER! It’s not fair for you to throw around Zuko’s name like that, when I could list all the people that happened to magically kiss you on the lips-”

Suddenly, a chaste kiss was sloppily placed on Y/N’s lips by Sokka. Y/N forcefully shoved him away.

“Y/N… I- I’m sorry-” Sokka approached them carefully.

Y/N clenched their jaw, “No, you don’t get to say sorry.” They backed away slowly, which quickly turned into a sprint back to the campfire. Eyes still stinging from tears that were being held in for too long.

𝔼𝕟𝕕𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖 | THIS IS SO SAD :( Anon, why did you do this to us! But for real, I actually really loved writing this because it literally broke my heart. Is that sadistic? Or masochistic??

Give me your thoughts!!

[easily-infatuated23]

At the Ballet (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

a/n: hey! i am a dancer so this was super fun to write. i’ll link the video’s of the variations discussed both here and in the actual story incase you want to watch it ‘in the moment’ also the ending is super cliche but i wasn’t sure how to finish

Y/H/H/C= your hogwarts house color

Dying swan variation

Kirtri Variation

pairing: Draco Malfoy x Dancer!Reader 

word count: 2.4k

warnings: super brief mentions of blood and cancer

summary: Reader is using the Room of Requirement as a dance studio when a certain blonde finds her and watches her dance

I am probably one of the only people in the world who would be unhappy to find out they were a wizard. The day my Hogwarts letter came in I was devastated. As a muggle-born witch, I had lived the first eleven years of my life without any magic or magical knowledge. I also happened to be one of the few lucky people in the world who was born knowing what they wanted to do when they grew up. Ever since I was three years old, all I wanted to do was dance. While all the other kids were playing princess or digging in the sand box, I was twirling around the play ground. When I started my first formal dance lesson at age five, I was hooked. Everyday I diligently went to dance class after school. I would pull on my pink tights and leotard in the car, just to make sure I was ready when class started. While other kids had sleepovers and weekend playdates, I was in the studio working. When I got my first pointe shoes I was over the moon. I could finally look like those beautiful ballerina’s I’d seen on stage. I could just picture myself in the beautiful white tutu, being lifted in the air by a handsome prince. That all changed when I got my letter.

Boarding school meant no after school classes. Boarding school meant no studios. Boarding school meant crushing my career aspirations. I worked very hard once I got to Hogwarts. I threw myself into my school work to try and forget the aching feeling in my body building up from not dancing. I was too embarrassed to bring my leotard and tights to school but I couldn’t bear to leave my pointe shoes at home. The pink satin shoes called to me like a siren does to a sailor. When the common room was empty or when I could sneak into a classroom, I would dance. The cold stone floors wrecked my beautiful satin shoes, but, I couldn’t stop. Every summer I would take multiple classes a day, trying to gain any training I had lost. Even though I was a witch, I had no plans to go into a magical career. It was always dance. Always.

By my third year at Hogwarts I started to give up hope. My training was falling further and further behind my peers. At this rate, I would never be hired by a company. Then, the strangest thing happened. One day, I was walking down an empty corridor when I saw a door appear that I didn’t recognize. When I entered the room, my heart skipped a beat. Inside, I found a perfect replica of my studio from home. There were mirrors on all sides of the room, a stack of barres sitting in a corner, and a piano. How had I never seen this room before! After this discovery, I used this room (which I later learned is known as the Room of Requirement) every single day. One day when I came in, there was a white tutu sitting on the piano, just like the one I had always dreamed of. Although I had good friends at school, I never talked about my intense love for dance. I had made the mistake of telling someone I intended to go into a muggle career after school, and I was laughed at by all who heard. This caused me to keep my love a secrete.

By fourth year, I came to school with all of my leotards and a full lesson plan given to me by my ballet teacher at home. She had even given me a new challenge too. She assigned me a set of four solo variations to learn and perfect, one of which was the ‘Dying Swan’ variation from Swan Lake. Although the ‘Dying Swan’ variation was not the most technically difficult variation of the group, the emotions that needed to be portrayed made it increasingly difficult. The girl, Odette, was transformed into a swan. She was cursed to live as a swan during the day and become human at night. While in human form, she fell in love. The variation is about when she learned that the love of her life had spurned her for another and it was literally killing her. It was this variation I worked the hardest on. Repeating it over and over, sometimes until my feet would bleed.

Today’s rehearsal was different. I had gotten the bad news that my beloved teacher was diagnosed with late stage cancer and that I would probably never get to see her again. Today’s rehearsal was for her. I was no longer dancing the variation as a girl losing her lover, but as a student losing her mentor. It made the emotions of the dance feel more real and intense. I walked into the Room of Requirement and put on my pointe shoes, making sure to do plenty of relevés and warming up properly. Then, it was time.

I put on my white tutu and waved my wand at the small CD player, starting the sorrowful song. I glided across the space, waving my arms as if they were wings. No. Not good enough. I started again. No. My balance was wrong. I started again. This cycle continued until I got so frustrated I cried. Then, I felt it in my soul. I finally started to connect to the character and emotions I was trying so desperately to portray. I took a deep breath and started again. This time, it felt right. I glided across the floor, I held every balance, I truly felt like I did it perfectly. There was no separation between the music and my dancing. It felt like the violin was the dancer and I was the violinist. When the end finally came, I gracefully slid to my knee and draped my arms over my outstretched leg. Before I could congratulate myself on my execution, I heard someone begin to clap. I sat up with a start and turned to face the intruder. A boy with platinum blonde hair begin to saunter over, still clapping slowly. He saw my shocked expression and spoke. “The door was slightly open and I heard music, thought I’d check it out.” he began. “That was…” he paused, as if he was trying to decide on the appropriate word. “…heart-wrenchingly beautiful” he finished. I blushed slightly, secretly hoping it blended in with the color already present on my face from the exertion. “Thank you” I said quickly.

I turned and pressed the stop button on the CD player before the song restarted. “I’m serious, that was incredible” he said again. I gave a quick uncomfortable smile before taking my tutu off. After all, I had other variations to rehearse and I wasn’t going to let some nosy kid stop me. “Thank you for the compliment but would you please leave, I have other things I need to rehearse” I said shortly. “But please don’t tell anyone about this, I don’t need anyone giving me shit about this”. He looked at me, puzzled. “Why would people give you shit about this?” he asked, crossing his arms as a slight scowl formed on his previously awe-struck face. “Because I want to go into a muggle career” I said matter-a-factly. “Oh” he said.

I took a sip from my water bottle and checked my rehearsal notes for which variation I should do next. I looked over at the door, the boy was still standing there. “Are you gonna leave or are you just gonna stand there gawking at me?” I asked. He looked flustered for a moment. “Oh um, can I or well, would you mind if I watched? My uh, my mother took me to the ballet a few times as a kid so I guess its kinda nostalgic” he said honestly. I took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. I hadn’t had an audience in a while. “Fine but you can’t laugh if I mess up” I said. “Deal” he replied.

Next variation on the list, the act 1 finale Kitri variation from Don Quixote. Different from the ‘Dying Swan’ variation this one is filled with fire and joy. I knew I could do this one well and I figured that I should show off since my intruder had decided to stay. The music began and I was on fire. Every jump and turn I did was perfect. Then came the dreaded diagonal. I would have to complete twenty turns on pointe in a perfect diagonal, then end in a balance on one leg. I always would get nervous for this part but I nailed it. After I finished, there came another round of applause, this one more full bodied than the last. “Merlin, that was…just wow” the boy said. I turned to face him a curtsied. “Thank you! It seems like I dance better in front of an audience” I said jokingly. The blonde laughed and looked down at his feet. He pushed him self off of the wall he had been leaning on and walked closer to me.

“I’m Malfoy by the way, Draco Malfoy”. He stuck his hand out. “Well Draco it’s nice to meet you” I said, reaching for his outstretched hand and shaking it. “I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N”. I took a step back and looked at the clock that was positioned above the door. “Well, I’m done for the day, if I don’t stop now I never will and Snape’s potions essay will never get done.” I walked over to my dance bag and plopped down on the floor, beginning the relief-filled but somewhat painful process of taking off my pointe shoes. “Does it hurt?” Draco asked. “Oh yeah like hell, but the longer you do it the sooner your feet go numb to the pain” I replied, placing the shoes into my bag. Next, I stood up and peeled off my pink tights. I had seen a video of a professional ballerina wearing her tights over her leotard and I’d worn mine in just the same way ever since then. Although I wasn’t looking directly at Draco, I could of sworn I saw him blush a bit. I pulled on my skirt and button down shirt, lastly tying my Y/H/H/C tie around my neck. Draco was still standing there, just watching me as I gathered my things. “Are you just gonna keep staring at me or…?” I said, causing him to shake his head slightly as if he was bringing his brain back down to Earth. “I was actually on my way to the library when I found you, are you headed that way” Draco asked. “Yes, I was planning on going to the library to finish this essay after a quick shower” I replied. “We could study together if you want, meet in the library around 8?” he proposed. I looked at the clock, 7:30, I could make that. “Sure” I said, smiling sweetly. “Just don’t sneak up on me if I get there before you” I joked. He chuckled softly. “See you at 8” I said as I walked out of the room. He waved.

It was surprisingly fun working with Draco. We both got the work we needed to done but managed to have some fun conversations as well. He asked me all about dance and my life. I told him quite a bit about myself, more than I had told to most. He cringed when I told him I was muggle-born but I didn’t think much of it. I tried asking him some of the same questions he asked me, but he was much more reserved and closed off in his answers. I didn’t mind, we are all entitled to privacy.

The next few weeks went by like a blur. Draco had started joining me for my daily rehearsals. He would sit in the back of the room and do homework. Sometimes it felt like that homework was to study me and my body but it didn’t bother me. A few times, when he would ask me how it was possible to do certain steps, I would force him to try some. “Bloody hell this is impossible!” he yelled. “How in Merlin’s name do you do this??”. “Draco its fifth position, this is what the seven year olds learn, stop fussing!” I replied, trying to fix his arms in the position. “No no, chin up, stomach in, arms up, straighten your legs, no your arms are dropping again, no don’t look down!” I giggled calling these corrections at him. “I truly don’t know how you do this” he said, laughing along with me. “It took years of hard work and dedication” I replied. “No your focus is down again” I said, reaching out and touching his cheeks. This action brought his gaze straight forward and directly into my eyes. We stayed like that for a moment before I removed my hands and took a few steps back, the tapping of my pointe shoes cutting through the silence like a knife. “There, you got it” I said finally, unconsciously biting my lip. “Run me through that last correction again” he said, taking a few steps towards me. The gap between our bodies was nearly completely closed. He reached out and cupped my cheeks. “It not this,” he said, pointing my face at the ground. “it’s like this” he finished his sentence. He titled my head up and leaned in cautiously. I swallowed hard. “Mhmm” was all that managed to escape my mouth. Just as I thought he was about to kiss me, the bell tower rang 8 o’clock. We both giggled at the tension that had suddenly been released and he lightly bumped his forehead on mine before releasing my cheeks and stepping back. “I have to go, I’m supposed to be tutoring someone at 8” he said with an air of disappointment. “Yeah of course go I’ll see you later” I replied. He picked up his bag and walked toward the door. He was halfway through it when he turned around and flashed me with one last smile before fully exiting. My hand reached up to my face and felt my cheek, as if it was trying to replicate the feeling Draco’s hand. I smiled and shook my head softly. I turned back to the mirrors and walked over to the CD player. I let out a small giggle then pressed play. Now I understood how those heroine’s in the ballet felt when their prince’s gently caressed their cheek, and I was gonna make sure to rehearse that moment again and again.

[welllpthisishappening]

falling feels like flying ['til the bone crush]

Someone should revoke her title. 

They’re trying, Emma supposes. Inevitable death probably means people can’t call her savior anymore, but they shouldn’t call her that now and that’s almost entirely because of what an absolute and complete liar she is. Telling Killian she would have done the same after he admitted he didn’t get rid of the shears isn’t her most massive lie, although it might be her most ridiculous. And they both know it’s not true. She wouldn’t do the same thing, she has. More than once. 

AN: That gif has nothing to do with the story! Here is approximately 3.5K where I once again force Emma and Killian to acknowledge their trauma. Not in the Underworld this time, though! So maybe we’re all evolving here. I blame this gif set, which I saw this morning and felt compelled to write something about. Maybe that evolution is also a lie, actually. 

———

“I lied.” Killian hums, exhaustion clinging to the sound, and Emma understands that. Less so why she’s talking right now, but neither one of those words seemed particularly interested in preserving the quiet calm of this particular moment, and she’s never been a lightweight quite like this. In more ways than one, she supposes. Hazy thoughts drift through her brain, muddled as it is by buttered rum and the steady flicker of flames in the fireplace because naturally this is the sort of house that has multiple fireplaces, and she burrows her face closer. 

To Killian’s chest. 

Takes a deep breath, not quite slow, but maybe a little greedy, and they ordered both things. Pizza and Chinese, half-finished egg rolls and beheaded slices of cheese with extra peppers strewn across the coffee table because Emma always likes that extra bit of crust and Killian’s nothing if not a frustratingly endearing sort of pushover. 

With her, especially. 

She closes her eyes. 

“I lied,” Emma repeats, “in the hospital, I mean. Wrong verb tense.” “You’re not making any sense at all, darling.”

Her nose must be cold — if the way Killian tenses as soon as it brushes his skin is any indication, but Emma knows it’s far more than that and far deeper than that and she might be the world’s biggest idiot. Looming death does that to a person, she supposes. 

Breathing isn’t particularly easy. And that’s not only because she ate four pizza slices worth of crust. Still, using death as an excuse again seems like an emotional crutch and an unreasonable reason, her muddled mind capable of clinging to every single letter in that particular endearment. It might be her favorite. 

She’s not sure she’s ever told him that. 

Stupid, really. 

“I told you that I get it; what you did today, and that part’s definitely true. But, uh, the rest of it. That I would have done the same thing? Total lie, right? I mean, I did it. That’s what happened.” Nothing. Just flickering flames and the quiet hum of a TV, neither one of them has been interested in actually watching all night. Emma doesn’t even know what channel they’re on. For all she knows, the remote’s in the kitchen. 

She counts inhales. Tries to keep her exhales measured, most of her face still pressed into the collar of Killian’s shirt as it is. And it takes about five full seconds before his hand moves, starts tracing a calm line up her spine, following that path until he reaches the base of her neck and the goosebumps that have already exploded on her skin and oxygen is overrated anyway. Holding her breath as soon as his fingers card through the ends of hair is basically instinct at this point. 

“Felt wrong to point that out at the time,” he mutters, “all things considered.” “Been kind of a long day.” “Reuniting with long-lost relatives will do that.” Scoffing is not the best reaction. Nothing about this is funny. Includes far too much death and dismay, and Emma’s gaze flickers up. Of its own accord and something much deeper, like the absolute refusal to accept a world where he does not exist. 

Goddamn Captain Hook. 

She loves him so much sometimes she thinks she’ll simply burst with the force of it all. 

It’s a gross thought, honestly. 

And they’ve already spent far too much time in the hospital today.

“Is he ok? Li—” Cutting herself off, Emma grits her teeth, but one side of Killian’s mouth is already tugging up, and the kiss that lands on her forehead is as soft as anything. Maybe bursting isn’t so bad, actually. So long as she can come up with another word for it. “God, that’s so weird.” Killian hums. “Indeed.” “Thoughts, feelings, et cetera?” “Vast. And none of them particularly pleasant.” “Seems fair. That sort of day, huh?” “Indeed.” They need more blankets. Need more things that are theirs in a collective sort of way, but that’s a dangerous and disingenuous train of thought, and Emma’s fingers twitch towards the fire. To ward off the sudden chill that’s settled between her shoulder blades, and it almost works, but it does absolutely nothing to help the sway of her stomach and the acid lingering in the back of her throat, threatening to burn far more than what these meager flames are able to do. 

“Should have finished high school,” Emma mumbles, “then I could choose more accurate verb tenses from my inevitably vast vocabulary. Did. Have done. Would do again, several thousand times over.”

“That’s the future tense.” None of his words come with any kind of pointed emotion, but Emma hears it all the same. Can see the tightness that lingers in the corners of his mouth and the way he’s holding his shoulders, straight as a line, and some joke about rigging that she no intention of making, and the furrow between his brows makes every muscle in her chest twist. Ache too, for good measure. 

With the promise of everything she wants to say and everything she hasn’t or can’t and—

Fuck magic, quite honestly. And the rules no one’s bothered to mention until now. Seems like poor planning on everybody’s part. 

“You heard me.” “I did,” Killian agrees lightly, and his hand has never actually stopped moving. It’s nice. Steady. Something Emma can almost nearly time her breathing too. “I would also choose that particular tense. If given the choice, that is.” “Do you not think you have that?” “I don’t particularly enjoy the thought. I’m rather partial to the option of whim, you see. Pirate and all that. We don’t much abide by schedules and fated decision.” “Seems like it’d be in the by-laws.” “Well, by-laws by their very nature are rather contradictory to the entire pirate notion, but you’ve got the gist of it at least.” Emma laughs. Doesn’t quite regret the sound, even as out of place as it is — just presses it into the edge of Killian’s shirt and the buttons he never bothers to do, trying to brandh the smell of him and the feel of him into every corner of her memory and she’s not really sure what happens after. Once the prophecy is fulfilled, and all that. 

She’s got too much unfinished business. 

To totally leave this particular plane of reality. 

She doesn’t mention that either. Not when the crux of that business is breathing steadily under her hand, and Emma can’t remember when she moved her hand, only that Killian’s warm under her touch, and he’s always so much warmer. Than just about anything else she’s aware of. 

“I thought you were dead.”

Of all the things Emma expects to happen in the midst of this night and this moment — and it’s really not a very long list, admittedly — that did not even make the cut. Wasn’t a consideration or a fledgling idea in the back of her mind, several different vertebrae almost audibly objecting when she jerks her head up. To find Killian staring straight ahead, lips not much more than a thin line across his face. 

Seriously, the rigging jokes almost write themselves. Which is more than Emma can say about her clearly piece of shit list, as metaphorical as it might be. 

“I don’t—” “—When I saw you,” Killian interrupts, and none of the words shake. Come out like a stream of consciousness and memories neither one of them have able to shake yet. Or talk about. Can’t possibly be healthy. “Chained to that stone, blood dripping into my mouth, and then all of a sudden, there you were. Worried I’d simply dreamt you up, couldn’t imagine how you looked quite that lovely in that hell hole, otherwise.” “Oh, that’s kind of insulting, actually.” “Hair like the bloody sun.” “Better,” Emma murmurs. Reaching up, her fingers tangle with the charms around his neck. Pieces of luck and trinkets she hasn’t learned all the stories to yet. The idea that she won’t makes her nauseous. “You told me ‘you shouldn’t be here.’” “Aye, and I meant it.” “Because you thought…” “Living people don’t often appear in such a God awful place, do they? Not without something tragic happening, and my mind was impressively efficient on that front.” “Which one is that?” “Every threat that’s ever lingered, every person I would have gladly run through if it meant you were safe. Half of goddamn Camelot.” Emma might snicker. Killian’s arm tightens, though. And that’s all she’s really worried about. “I think I could have taken Arthur. Y’know if it had come to that.” “Likely not a very good swordsman,” Killian nods, but that’s only so his lips can trace Emma’s temple and the top of her hair. More than once. Like he’s still making sure. “Pampered prince—” “—He was totally a king, babe. That’s like...the most basic Camelot knowledge.” “Ask me in five minutes if I care at all about anything to do with Camelot.” “Should I time it, or…” He scoffs. Presses another half dozen kisses to any spot he can reach, and he can actually reach a fair amount of places. Emma’s impressed. Swooning too, but also pretty impressed. “I kept thinking about you,” Killian says, softer than the last few words have been, and it sounds like an admission and another promise, and it’s weird that it can be both. At the same time. “This house. What it was and wasn’t. All those possible verb tenses.”

“I’m sorry.” “Ah, that’s not your fault, love. None of this is, really, but—well, it did make it so seeing you, realizing you were there...left all of those thoughts crashing down around my ears, so to speak. Falling apart, like an avalanche of what hadn’t been and what I still wanted so desperately. No matter what Hades did.” “Stupid stubborn.” “I believe there’s something about a pot and a kettle in this realm.” “Don’t have that cliche in the Enchanted Forest, huh?” “Not that I’m aware of, no.” “Maybe you just didn’t go to a good college.” “Tell me every Greek word you know,” Killian challenges, and Emma rolls her eyes. Ignores the first few flutters of a headache brewing at the base of her skull. “It didn’t seem fair.” “Which part?” “All of it is also rather vast, but mostly that if you were there, then it happened again.” Narrowing her eyes, Emma tries to piece together those letters and the syllables they make, only to be marginally annoyed when she can’t make sense of them. Killian kisses the bridge of her nose. 

She might have to go get Tylenol soon. 

“Losing you without fighting, without challenge the goddamn reaper myself, was worse than anything He could have done,” Killian continues, and he doesn’t have to be more specific. “Worse than whatever pain I’ve ever suffered. Cut off twenty more limbs; it wouldn’t even come close.” “Do you have that many?” “Your humor lacks a little something; you know that, Swan?” “It’s a defense mechanism.” He noses at her hair. Drags the soft hum of what could very well be either an agreement or the opposite, or maybe even the sort of deep-rooted understanding that’s allowed him to sneak his way into the center of everything, across her skin. The specifics don’t matter, only that Emma’s magic roars under her skin, an inferno, and a symphony, meeting the challenge that no one has really laid down yet. 

“Do that again,” Killian mutters, a low chuckle as Emma’s scratches at his side. 

“I’m not sure I can, honestly.” “Pity.” “Something like that, yeah. And you’re not totally right, you know?” “Ah, and that’s almost rude.” “I’m serious,” Emma says, “that’s—none of that was your fault either.” Tilting his head only ensures that several strands of hair he still hasn’t bothered to cut fall almost artfully across his forehead, and Emma is grateful to a variety of gods, Greek or otherwise, that Killian doesn’t mention how much her hand shakes. When she tries to brushes them away. His hook finds her wrist instead, cool metal against freezing cold skin, and the state of her tongue is going to be a problem. Large as it is in Emma’s mouth, making it all but impossible to properly swallow while Killian’s lips sweep the bend of her knuckles. 

“Charmer.” “Aye, that’s my endgame.” There’s not enough room between them for him to run his hand across his face like Emma knows he wants to, and part of that isn’t really a bad thing, but the rest just seems like another entirely unfair thing, and Emma knows the rest is coming. Makes tears burn her eyes all the same. “They were just...gone, you understand? No chance to do anything about it. One moment they were living and breathing. Then Liam was dead. Slumped in my arms in the corner of a cabin he was supposed to spend the rest of his career in. He—he would have been a very good captain.” “So are you,” Emma says, fierce and determined, and Killian kisses in the inside of her palm. She’s moved her hand again. To cup his cheek. 

“For a time, maybe. But then she was gone too, and I thought I could feel it, you know. The exact way her heart crumbled in his hand, tiny bits of dust that I never wanted to blow off the deck. Like some of her still managed to stay. Is that—” The muscles in his throat move, jaw clenching, and Emma has to blink. She hopes the moisture on her cheeks isn’t tears. She’s not sure what’s a better option, really. “Must sound daft.” “No. I—I get that too.” “Do you?” “Not the only one who’s watched Rumplestilskin hold the heart of someone you loved.”

He can’t be holding his breath. His chest is moving much too quickly, but the burst of air that all but flies out of Killian is enough to ruffle the ends of Emma’s hair and possibly even dry some of the tears she’s still refusing to acknowledge, and she can’t get closer to him. 

She makes an admirable effort all the same. 

Like occupying the same few inches of space will ensure that she stays there. 

“Did you—” Killian starts, looking almost pained as the words war for his voice on the tip of his tongue. “Did you like her?” That didn’t make the list, either. It’s entirely possible that Emma is just garbage at making lists. She nods. “Anyone who loves you as much as I do is fine with me. Better than, even.”

His expression shifts again. Light lingers in his gaze, cautious hope, and misplaced optimism, gears whirring in his head that Emma can’t almost convince herself she hears. Her verb tense was on purpose that time. 

That’s a confidence boost, all things considered.

“She was something fierce,” Killian says, sounding reminiscent and not as sad as Emma has worried he must be. “Once she got away from him. Could get a grown man to do her bidding with a single look, the kind of glare that’d set you on fire from the inside out. It was—they loved her too. Men on the ship, would have followed her to the ends of the Earth if she’d asked. Probably even if she hadn’t.” 

His next inhale becomes an exhale almost immediately.

“She never would have asked,” Killian adds, almost entirely to himself, but then his eyes are back on Emma, and they’re a little glossy and just as blue and she’s holding her breath now. “She liked you too, I know it.” “I think she thought I was crazy, actually. Gold didn’t really have much tact in the...introductions.” “Ah.” “Right?” “Right,” he echoes, a pale imitation of her voice that makes Emma’s cheeks ache. From smiling. Legitimately smiling. Huh. “But I suppose that’s part of it, though. She was there again, and I—” “—I’m sorry. For...for all of it.” “Still not your fault, love.”

“How did you know?” she asks, and her voice doesn’t sound much like her either. Wobbles and warbles and some other word that fits the alliteration. “About me. And not being…”

“Dead?” Killian’s eyebrows jump. “Strawberries.” “Excuse me?” “That soap you use in your hair. Smells like strawberries, or strawberry adjacent maybe. Manufactured just a bit. I think it’s my favorite smell in the world.” “Backhanded compliment.” “No, no,” Killian shakes his head. His hair moves again. “It’s not. It’s—well, it’s you, love. Smells like everything that you are and—”

“—I’m manufactured?” “If you let me finish,” he chides, and Emma all but yanks her lips behind her teeth, “It smells like home. Smells like falling asleep next to you and a distinct lack of blankets.” He nips at the tip of her nose. She scoffs again; that’s why. “And your distractingly cold feet, and leather jackets, and how the smell clings to the collars, no matter how long it’s been since you’ve worn them. Lingers on your pillow too, and the fronts of my shirt. You fall asleep against me quite often, you know that.” “Can sleep anywhere,” Emma reasons. “Might be my greatest talent.” “I don’t know about that.” “If I call you charmer again, will you hold it against me for lack of synonyms?” “Tell me how charming I am again.” Emma scrunches her nose. “Now it sounds like my dad.” “Let’s leave the prince out of this. He’s only a prince, aye?” “Far as I know, yeah.” “Good, good. Strawberries, love. Touching you helped too, though. If we’re being frank.” “Anything except blunt force honesty seems silly now, doesn’t it?” Killian nods. Slow and measured, like anything else will snap this tenuous peace, and maybe they can just sleep on the couch. Getting up is an impossible prospect right now. Maybe they can make out a little before they fall asleep. 

“It’s a very big house,” Emma whispers, and they should really figure out a schedule for conversations like this. Talking about it all at once is exhausting. 

“It is.” “You don’t want to expand upon that?” “Oh, I want a great number of things I shouldn’t,” Killian admits, “but as much as I appreciate this fresh round of honesty we’re engaging in, the false hope would—” “—There’s no such thing,” Emma interrupts. “False hope. It’s an oxymoron, ask my mother. And I think you should get some sort of crew again.” “How would you suggest I populate such a thing?” She shrugs. Nearly hits Killian in the chin in the process. “Untold stories. Dwarves.” “I will not have dwarves on my ship.” “See, I knew you’d have opinions. And there was a possessive pronoun in there that time.” “Was there not before?” “No,” she says. “Just called it the ship. Like it’s not the most important thing you have.” “Well, it’s not.” Emma’s cheeks warm. “That was very smooth.” “Someone did guarantee I was a very good captain earlier.” Space continues to be relatively minimal between them, but Killian’s nothing if not adaptable, and he works with what he’s got. Swinging Emma’s legs perpendicular over his, she’s nearly sitting on his lap, an arm slung over his shoulders, which makes it even easier to get her fingers into his hair and his head to rest against hers, and he takes another deep breath. “I know you understand, Emma,” he says, soft and serious, and she doesn’t bother doing anything except cling to him. With everything she’s got left. “All of it, from the very start. So I don’t think I’ll apologize, actually. For what I’ve done, or what I’d still be willing to do. I won’t give up on you, do you understand me?” “Didn’t,” Emma says, only a little optimistic that’s the right verb tense. Maybe she can get her GED, or something. Before all of this ends. “In Camelot, or after. Accept or acknowledge, and I probably would have—” 

Announcing that killing Gold for what he’d done to Killian regularly crossed her mind in the twenty-four hours or so before they finally made it to the Underworld doesn’t really have the right sentiment for this conversation. Far too violent, and just as honest. 

She’d consider killing him now, too. 

For everything he’s doing, and everything he hasn’t, and she should have shoved him in that river. 

Killian doesn’t smile. At least not in a way that reaches his eyes, the same ones that are looking at Emma again, all blue and earnest, and his shoulders shift. When her fingers graze his chin, more than stubble there because, she imagines, spending a day or so underwater with a sibling he only sort of wants and kind of knows doesn’t leave much time for facial-type grooming. 

It’s a good look, though. 

Most of them are, in Emma’s experience. 

“This entire time,” she continues, “you haven’t given up on me yet.” “Works both ways, darling.” “That one crosses realms, huh?” “Pick up things spending so much time with you.” There’s nothing extra in the words. No sap-filled sentiment or promises she’s only a little hopeful will become actions. And they haven’t talked about the rest; might not even have time, but Emma will let herself think about all these empty rooms anyway, of the exact shade Killian’s eyes go when he stands at the helm, and she hopes he doesn’t cut his hair. Not yet, at least. Longer strands make it easier to touch him, to leave a lasting mark, and settle into his center the same way he’s taken root in hers. 

They fall asleep on the couch.