#that's why his vision went dark on that one spot she rubbed her thumb over

[payeehay]

Jack's Fucking Dead, Pt. 1.5: The Dissection

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Based loosely on the fantastic @floralflowerpower's headcanons about cores and ectoplasm

Tw for dissection, mild gore

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

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Jack lay on a cold operating table, down in the lab.

Maddie buzzed around him, getting everything ready for the dissection.

She strapped down his hands and feet - a precaution, she'd said - and then she affixed the anaesthetic mask to his face. He took a few deep breaths of the gas, his vision dimming and the cold of the metal table melting away.

Finally, she put a pillow behind his head - that had been one of his conditions, he'd wanted to be able to see what she was doing - and he stared at his blue chest. It was weird, seeing his skin since he'd died. He rarely took off his jumpsuit, and he'd taken to avoiding mirrors, but now, his ghostliness was on full display. He hoped it wouldn't make her hate him.

He'd been nude before, of course, but now, even in his boxers, seeing the fervent curiosity in Maddie's eyes that he loved her so much for, he'd never felt so naked.

Finally, she settled next to him, tape recorder in one hand and scalpel in the other.

"Ready, Jack?" she asked cheerfully.

A shiver went down Jack's spine. He was curious, yes, but he didn't want to be cut open, he'd really only agreed to this to be helpful, to be worthy, to make up for his existence as a ghost-

"Ready, Mads," he smiled up at her.

She pushed the button to start the recorder, set it down. "Maddie Fenton, June 13, 2004, exploratory dissection of a class 3 ghost." He wasn't surprised that she didn't use his name.

He could only watch as she started slicing into him, through his skin. A few neat cuts, a sample taken, and blue was pulled away to reveal green.

"Internal ectoplasm structure is firm, not unlike flesh," Maddie announced to the recorder. Her eyes were sparkling.

She kept cutting, layer after layer, until she hit something hard. "Interesting, the ectoplasm seems to be mimicking a human-like skeletal structure."

"It's a bones day!" Jack shouted cheerfully, tried to throw up his hands before he remembered that he couldn't.

Maddie just chuckled at him. "It certainly is. Now, mind if we see what's under them?"

He did mind, he didn't want to be cracked open like a pistachio, but all he said was "Sure thing."

He could feel Maddie pulling on his ribs, and then she declared to the recorder, "Structure is strong, using the bone saw."

Jack gulped as the tool whirred to life, pressed against his ribs. The anaesthetic was working, thankfully, but it left an uncomfortable pressure on his chest, spewed tiny bits of green dust into his face.

A short eternity later, she was in. She peeled back his ribs like a grotesque set of claws, and laid her gloved hand on his viscera. He took another deep breath.

"Fascinating, I can feel you breathing but I'm not seeing any lungs in here," she told him. "Just more solid ectoplasm."

And then, to the recorder, "Subject has no apparent organs. Cutting deeper."

The further down she got, the more wrong he felt. He was about to ask her to stop when she suddenly announced, "There's something glowing in here."

As unsettled as he felt, Jack's curiosity won out, and he kept his reservations to himself. "What is it?" he asked.

"I don't know." She grinned. "But we're about to find out."

A couple more cuts, and a soft light from his chest spilled onto Maddie's face. He couldn't see what was causing the glow from this angle, but he felt every finger when she touched it, and shivered all over.

She stopped. "What does that feel like?"

"Uhh..." Jack struggled to find his words. "Like you're touching me, all of me, my very being," he clumsily articulated.

"Fascinating," she muttered, and then for the recorder, "Glowing orb suspended in goo-like ectoplasm. Texture is soft. Attempting to pull it out for further study."

Before he could stop her, her hands were around it, around him, pulling, stretching, and then he was outside his body. His vision was dim, but he could see all 360 degrees of the lab, his own body on the table, the insides of Maddie's hands holding him, her enraptured face inches away. He tried to move, to speak, but all he could do was sit there as Maddie poked and prodded him.

"Orb texture is soft, but self-attractive. Coated in ectoplasm." Her voice was far-off. She rubbed her thumb over a section of him, and his vision in that spot went dark. "Taking a sample."

She switched him to one hand, and he could feel himself deforming under his own weight, squishing through her fingers. He felt so exposed. Her other hand came back with a little bladed scoop and he whined, worried. The scoop moved into the dark area of his vision, and he felt it pressing into him, felt himself moving around it, the blade making contact but never able to make a cut.

After a minute, Maddie sighed. "Sample collection failed, fluid keeps flowing away from the blade and back into itself. Taking energy readings and then then returning to body."

A short moment in front of the energy gun later, he watched himself be lowered into his chest cavity, down through his cracked-open ribs like hands reaching for him, plunged into the pool of ectoplasm below, and then he was back in his body, shuddering all over.

"Jack?" Maddie called. "Are you alright?" She put her hand on his leg.

It took a minute of sputtering before he found his voice. "Let's never do that again, please," he croaked.

Maddie's eyes narrowed curiously. "What was it like?"

"Like being pulled out of my body and held in your hands. But I couldn't move or do anything." He shuddered again.

Maddie looked enthralled. "So your awareness was in that orb?"

He shrugged. "I guess so."

"Interesting," she said. She clapped her ectoplasm-stained hands. "Well, I think we've found about everything there is to find in there, so unless you want to keep going-"

"No, I'm good," he answered hastily. "Let's just close me up."

She smiled. "Okay."

She started stitching him up. As she worked, she rambled on about the exciting discoveries they'd made, and future tests they could do. Jack tried his best to match her enthusiasm. He couldn't let her know how uncomfortable he was, how sick the smell of his own ectoplasm made him. He had to be useful, he couldn't take being rejected, not now, after everything he'd been through recently. So he played along, theorized with her, matched her smiles with his own.

A while of stitching and bone-setting later, and she was done. As soon as she unbuckled his hands, he ripped the mask off his face and sat up, ready to be as far away from here as possible. His senses were still a bit dulled from the anesthetic, but he could deal with that.

"Now, I know ghosts regenerate quickly, but wait a couple of minutes before you put your suit back on, you're still leaking a little bit of ectoplasm through your bandages," Maddie instructed him.

He ignored her. He was so tired of feeling exposed.

He looked at the clock, and oh, look at that, it was almost breakfast. Time for him to go upstairs and cook breakfast for his family, and try to forget about all of this.

Alternate Ending

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Explaining the joke: There's a pug on tiktok named Noodle whose owner picks him up into a standing position every day. Some days, he stays standing, these are Bones Days, days for being adventurous and getting things done. Other days, he flops over like he's boneless, these are No Bones Days, days for relaxing and taking care of yourself. He's become somewhat of a horoscope, and Jack definitely checks what kind of day it is every morning.

[360iris]

Wanna Be Down (George Weasley x Reader x Fred Weasley)

Warnings: Pure smut! She/her pronouns for the reader! No funny business between the boys I promise! There’s bound to be some typo that I missed, sorry ‘bout that!

Word count: 1,628

Summary: There’s a birthday, a bunny costume and The Twins... What could go wrong?

A/N: This was originally meant to drop on their birthday, April 1st... I’m 28 days late for that but hey, better late than never! It’s been collecting dust for the entire time and I wanted to set it free. I hope someone enjoys it!

“You want me to- to wear a bunny outfit and have the two of you…” You faltered nervously, the words seemed foreign on your tongue.

“-fuck you in it.” Fred finished for you with a wide grin, as if this was the most in the ordinary activity to plan.

The twins wanted to sleep with you? This was the first you’d heard of it, that’s for sure. And though the thought sent waves of excitement through your body, the prospect was daunting.

You’d been friends since diapers, a meager six hours separating your births. And whether the bond that formed later was predetermined by fate, or by pure chance, it was wholly indestructible.

Through the years, the three of you operated perfectly insync. Remaining quite persistently glued at the hip; completing every task deemed worthy enough as an odd unit.

There was an unspoken rule that each of you would make sure that the others felt equally included in activities.

So why should taking your virginity be any different?

“We’ll be twenty in a few hours, Y/N. Don’t you want to kick off the new decade with a bang?” George asked, his face genuine and voice laced with just the right amount of sweetness. He always did know how to persuade you into going along with Fred’s crazy schemes.

“Quite literally in this instance.” Fred added cheekily and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Both of you have had sex before though. Plenty of times in fact! You told me about it afterwards! In vivid detail at that! Why are you so worried about me now?” Your brows were furrowed, lips turned downwards in a pout.

Sitting criss-cross on your bed, you tugged one of the many pillows on your bed into your lap. Squeezing it tighter when you met their gazes again.

Fred had his hands tucked into his jean pockets, happy as ever. He acted as if it was only a matter of time before he’d get the answer he wanted.

George on the other hand, at least looked like he was having a conversation with you; and not like he was just waiting for you to realize you’d never actually said no to them before. His eyes were soft, assessing your demeanor before approaching your spot at the foot of the bed.

“You know you’re our favorite girl. Don’t you, Y/N?” He questioned and you suddenly felt smaller looking directly up at him. Ginger waves caressing his cheeks and pooling at his shoulders.

“I mean- I suppose.” You replied dumbly.

“Who do we always come back home to?” He asked again, his left hand lifting up from his side to comb through your hair. The pads of his fingers brushing against your cheek as they went.

“Me.” Your answer was hushed, though it was only the three of you in the flat. They’d closed the shop downstairs hours ago.

“And who trails after me as much as she can during the day, practically jumping into my lap the first opportunity she gets?” His voice was getting lower and his gaze remained fixed to you, you tried your best not to squirm.

“M- Me.”

“Lastly, whose the babygirl that slips into my bed at three in the morning because she stays up too late and gets scared?” He was teasing you now, you knew it, but still gave him a reply.

“Me, George.” Both of his hands were cupping your face now, fingertips laced in your hair, you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to.

“So when I ask my favorite girl to put on the outfit I picked out for her, so I can make her feel good on her birthday, what do you think I want to hear back?” A single brow arched as he waited for your answer, ignoring Fred’s quiet “I helped choose it too, y’know.”

Wrapping your fingers around his wrists, you thought about all the times he and Fred had slept with other girls. How deep down you’d wished they’d looked at you the same way.

He allowed you to remove one of his hands, a dark smirk splitting across his face when you’d slowly brought it between your legs. Only coming to a stop when he was cupping your heat.

“I think- I think I’ve been holding out for you.” It was no higher than a whisper, but it’d been the truth nonetheless. He smiled wider at this confession, leaning in and pressing a light kiss on your forehead.

“All the more reason not to disappoint.” He responded, you faintly registered rustling from behind him.

“Y/N, dear?” Fred called.

“Hm?”

“Time to put the outfit on.”

It’d been relatively easy to slip into the get-up. The bodysuit, wrist cuffs and neck piece fitting like a glove.

“When did you get my measurements?” You asked, looking down at yourself.

“Since when have we not had your measurements?” Fred laughed, pulling you onto the bed with him until your back was flush against his chest. Your head comfortably leaning back on his left shoulder.

George following after you, settled for sitting up in front of you, his knees digging into the pink duvet.

“The ears are a nice touch.” He remarked with a pleased smirk. “Don’t you agree, Fred?”

“Absolutely. All white suits her.” He replied matter-a-factly, hands already roaming your torso. Ghosting over your exposed thighs, he hooked a finger under the bikini line of the bodysuit and let it snap back into place. Your hips jutted outwards at the impact.

“Want to hear you ask for it, Y/N.” George was palming your calves, making you feel small again.

“What do you want me to say?” Your brows furrowed curiously at the request, breath hitching when he utilized his grip to pull you further down Fred’s chest. Your ankles eventually hooking against George’s shoulders.

“Want him to play with your little cunt, don’t you baby?” Fred asked from above you, heat rushing to your face at his words.

“Y- Yeah.”

“Then ask, darling.” He grinned at your eyes widening as you met his gaze upside down.

Turning your attention back to George, you absentmindedly bit at the end your thumb nervously. Sure you’d used curse words like anyone else in the world, but the thought of actually asking the twins to fuck you was on a level you’d never thought you’d reach.

“Georgie?” You tried carefully.

“What is it, baby?” He replied softly, a smile playing on his lips, patiently waiting.

“Want- Want you to make me feel good.”

“How?” He prompted, delighting in your fidgeting. Fred however wasn’t feeling as patient, sending a soft smack to your inner thigh.

“Don’t have all day, bunny.” He chided, slowly massaging the site.

“Want your cock, Georgie.” You finally relented, wanting nothing more than to hide your face in your hands, but you feared being spanked again by Fred. 

George rewarded you with a kiss, palming your clit through the material. He swallowed up every whimper that escaped your lips, only answering by expertly thumbing the area faster. 

“Let’s see how wet you are, bun.” Fred whispered, pulling the bodysuit aside to reveal your heat. Running a finger through your folds, he promptly brought it to your mouth. Smirking widely when you began meekly sucking at the digit.

“I’m gonna get you ready, okay sweetheart?” George asked, mouthing at your neck. He didn’t move until you garbled something close to “okay” through Fred’s fingers sadistically pressing down your throat.

Armed with plenty of lube, the first finger sliding into you felt like nothing. By the third, he resorted to distracting you by rubbing your bud to ease the initial stretch. Although nothing could have prepared you for how uncomfortable taking his tip was.

It was a slow process, full of the boys tenderly guiding you to breathe deeply and relax your muscles. With the abundance of their attention focused on outweighing the discomfort with pleasure, eventually the mild pain began to blur around the edges. 

The level of satisfaction that rolled over you when you’d finally reached the hilt was like no other. 

“Good girl.” Fred purred into your hair as George wiped away a stray tear from the corner of your eye. “Took it like a champ, didn’t she, Georgie boy?”

“Sure did, Fred. Squeezing me so nicely too.” He replied smiling proudly.

“Full- So full.” You whimpered blearily, not sure which boy you were grasping for. Each accepted one of your wandering hands, giving them an encouraging squeeze.

“You’re doing so well, babygirl. How about you let me make you feel good now, hm?” George’s voice was gruff as he patiently waited for you to nod back in response.

Soon the discomfort had melted away, leaving only the easy slide of George’s length and the gratification of being engulfed between the loves of your life. 

You promptly got lost in the jumble of mouths, hands and pleasure. 

“Gonna come for us, love?” George asked, holding your hips done to focus his thrusts. 

“Can I- Can I, please? Please let me come!” You whined desperately, unable to distinguish whose hands belonged to who.

“Go ahead, bunny.” George answered and it was all you needed to hear. Your visioned blurred as your toes curled, the only thing you could register was that he was fucking you through it. Fred’s fingers circling your clit didn’t let up until you were pathetically trying to pull at his wrist.

A weak mewl fell from your lips as George pulled out of you spent. Simpering under his praises, you closed your eyes. 

The sudden smack against your face was sobering, leaving you blurrily blinking up at Fred’s eager grin.

“I hope you didn’t think you were off the clock, bun.”

[dreamerstreamer]

Burnout

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: Working nonstop leaves Clay officially exhausted. Too bad he doesn’t know when to call it quits. Luckily for him, you do.

Warnings: depictions of anxiety + exhaustion + burnout

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: this was inspired by some of my own personal experiences. please get some rest if you need it. i hope you enjoy!

Clay awoke to the sound of meowing in his ear and a paw prodding at his cheek.

Letting out a small groan, he shifted, vaguely aware that his cheek was pressed against something cold. He reached up in front of his face, his fingertips meeting soft fur. He blinked an eye open, his hand rubbing at his bleary vision. Little by little, the fogginess slowly parted to reveal Patches’ olive green eyes peering back at him. The moment his gaze met hers, she meowed, swiping at his face again.

“Stop,” he croaked, surprising himself by how dry his mouth was. Almost immediately, Patches took a step back, meowing once more at him before hopping off the table and vanishing from his line of sight.

He raised a hand to his throat, swallowing uncomfortably. Slowly, he lifted his head from the desk, taking in the sight of his desk set-up. While his monitor was dark, it was his laptop that was lighting up the cluttered mess that had become his studio. Off to his right sat his green water bottle.

Right. His water bottle had been empty for—

His eyes darted to the clock, squinting. The numbers 1:47 AM flashed back at him.

—six hours.

When did I knock out? he wondered to himself, rubbing at his temples. Two hours ago? He shook his head. Well, doesn’t matter, now. Gotta finish the new plug-in.

He reached over, nudging his mouse with his elbow. The moment his cursor moved, his monitor came to life, light flooding the dimness of his room. He squinted, shielding his eyes from the glaring brightness of the screen with the back of his hand.

His code was still open, the line having cut off in the middle, the open bracket hanging wide, waiting to be completed and closed.

He grimaced, the gears already whirring in his head as he stared at the ticking clock on his screen. He needed to have the plug-in coded by tomorrow—or, well, today—so he could send it off to George for their scheduled test run. Not to mention the video he was only halfway finished editing he wanted to upload in two days’ time.

He dragged a hand over his face, a low groan rumbling in his chest. Just then, there was another low growl, this time coming from his stomach. He glanced downward at his hoodie pocket, something sharp digging at his insides.

Well, first, it seemed like he would need some food.

He pushed back his chair and pushed himself onto his feet, wincing at the way his muscles ached. They were definitely sore from not having been used in god knows how long, now. With another sigh, he turned, pushing the door open to his studio before climbing the stairs.

It only took a few moments for him to find the kitchen. He fumbled with the light switch for a second before the room was suddenly flooded with light. He winced, slapping a hand over his eyes. “Oh god,” he muttered, his throat feeling raw, “it’s so bright.”

A few seconds later, he peeked through his fingers and lowered his hand, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. As soon as he could see clearly once more, he dragged himself over to the cabinet, pulling the door open to peer inside. Empty space stared back at him, and he frowned. We forgot to go grocery shopping.

A snack-size bag of chips and two cups of instant ramen stared back at him, almost tauntingly. After staring for another moment, he found himself pulling out one of the two cups, eyeing it dubiously before shrugging. It’ll do. Flipping open the kettle, he quickly filled it with some water before setting it to boil. As he waited, he grabbed a pair of chopsticks and tore open the cup cover, fishing out the flavour packet and tearing it open with his teeth. Just as he was pouring the flavour powder in, he heard a voice behind him.

“Clay?”

He froze, then felt something in his chest soften. He turned, mustering what energy he had to send you a smile. “Hi, [Y/N].” At the sight of your bleary eyes, his smile drooped. “You’re still awake?”

You yawned, holding a hand over your mouth. “Mhm. Hungry. I’m just grabbing a snack, that’s all.”

Behind him, the kettle whistled. He quickly removed the top, then turned back to send you a knowing look. “Me too.”

You strolled over to the cabinet he had looked through earlier, frowning as you let out a sigh. “I’ll go grocery shopping this weekend,” you murmured, reaching for the chips. “Anything you want?”

He cast a glance at the chips in your hand. “More chips?” he offered softly. “I dunno. I haven’t really thought about it.”

You bobbed your head and pulled the bag open, immediately sticking a chip in your mouth. Clay let the sound of chips crunching fill the air as he poured the boiling water into his noodle cup, stirring absentmindedly as you quickly finished the bag. After a few moments, he eagerly raised his chopsticks to his lips, a whirlwind of flavour filling his mouth. The noodles didn’t particularly help with the dryness of his mouth or his tiredness, but at least he wasn’t hungry anymore.

The two of you ate in silence for a while. At one point, you finished the chips and threw out the bag, but he wasn’t quite paying attention. He felt his toes curl beneath him as he shifted in an effort to keep himself awake, but he could still feel the exhaustion pulling at his ankles. He wished he was asleep, he really did.

Just then, you spoke up. “Are you okay?”

He blinked, snapping out of his tired daze. “Yeah,” he mumbled in between chews. “I’m just a bit tired.”

You pursed your lips, leaning back against the counter as you eyed him up and down. “You look more than just ‘a bit tired’, Clay.”

He swallowed, averting his gaze from yours as he focused on shoveling more noodles in his mouth. His eyelids burned, weighed down by bricks made of exhaustion. “You think so?”

You didn’t answer, only staring at him for a few moments longer as he finished the cup of ramen. He didn’t even have the strength to think about the tension pervading the air. As soon as he was finished, he set the cup down, ignoring how heavy his arm felt. He felt your eyes on his as he rinsed out the empty container before tossing it in the recycling bin. He turned, your gaze locking onto his. Irritation prickled up his spine at your expression.

“What?” he said, his tone coming out harsher than he intended. A flicker of guilt ran through him, but it quickly dissolved into weariness once more. Whatever. He was tired. It didn’t matter. Right?

To his surprise, you didn’t flinch like he thought you would. Instead, you took a small step toward him, your hand reaching up and forward tentatively. Your fingers brushed against his cheekbone, and the moment your palm met his skin, he nearly melted into your touch. How long had it been since his shoulders felt so loose? He couldn’t recall.

“Clay,” you murmured, your thumb brushing over his cheek, “will you come to bed with me?”

His breath hitched. Sleeping? Now? He couldn’t afford it—even a single lick of sleep would throw him off entirely. He needed to finish his code and finish editing that video for the day after. He couldn’t just sleep, now.

He sent you a smile, hoping it didn’t look as sad as it felt. “Sorry, love, but I have a bit more work I have left to do.”

You blinked, your lips curling downward. Your frown bit into him harder than he would have liked. Slowly, you pulled your hand back from his cheek, something disappointing flashing in your gaze. “Okay,” you said quietly, turning to walk out of the kitchen. “Please go to sleep soon, though, alright?”

He nodded, but the action didn’t fully register in his head as he watched you disappear from his line of sight. Already, he missed your warmth against his face, and he had half the mind to change his mind and go to bed with you right then and there.

But the deadline hanging over his head wrapped a fraction tighter around his throat, whispering into his ear like a menace. “You don’t have time.”

Indeed, he didn’t.

Shutting the kitchen lights off, he slipped back down the stairs once more, striding back into his studio. He collapsed into his chair with a grunt, shaking his mouse as his monitor came back to life. He cracked his knuckles once before settling his hands back on the keyboard, focusing his attention back on the open bracket once more.

He wasn’t sure how much time he spent typing, opening and closing Google as he ran into bug after bug. The longer he stared at the screen, the more his brain felt like it was slowly getting the life sucked out of it. He had only completed another dozen lines of code or two when something tore him out of his focus.

“Clay.”

His thoughts came to a jarring halt in his head. He turned, spotting you leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed over your chest. A concerned expression was plastered to your face, and he nearly fell out of his chair. “[Y/N]? Why are you still up?” His eyebrows knit together. “I thought you went to bed.”

“I sent George a text,” you said abruptly, your eyes scanning his face with a wary look, “and he said he doesn’t mind doing the test run another day.”

Clay’s mouth fell open, a wave of shock rolling over him. You... what? Swallowing, he closed it, shaking his head slightly. Just because he didn’t need to finish the code didn’t mean he still didn’t have any work to do. “I still have to finish the video—”

“You can finish that another day, too,” you suddenly said, your eyes not leaving his. He saw your fingers curl into your pyjamas. “You know your fans will love it no matter when it comes out.”

Something welled up inside of him, something hard and cold that dug straight through his bones. “B-But...”

You simply tilted your head at him, a weary look crossing your face. “But what, Clay? Is there anything else?”

He paused for a moment, a pebble of shame dropping into his stomach as he shook his head. “No,” he admitted quietly. His heart burned uncomfortably between his lungs. “But I could always get a head start on—“

“Clay,” you said sharply, not missing the way he jumped, “don’t you see what you’re doing to yourself?” You lowered your arms and your voice grew quiet, something pained flitting across your features. “This is killing you.”

He stared at you, the light of his monitor making your face glow in the dimness of his studio. As much as he tried, he couldn’t think of another rational justification for staying up. He had no other immediate tasks, no other projects he needed to work on in this moment. He had no reason to stay awake any longer.

And yet, deep down, something anxious and angry thrashed in his gut. Sleeping now just felt wrong. It was almost as though it was a crime, as though he would somehow fail if he didn’t keep working. After all, if he didn’t keep working, then what kind of creator was he?

But the longer he stared at you, taking in the sight of your pleading eyes and worried frown, he felt something else overtake him entirely. A different kind of sinking feeling settled over his shoulders, and he swallowed.

“[Y/N],” he said honestly, suddenly feeling vulnerable and very, very sad, “I’m tired.”

Your gaze softened, and he almost wanted to cry. “I know,” you said, soft and sincere.

With quiet steps, you made your way over to him, stopping just in front of him. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against your stomach as he let out a shaky breath. You didn’t move, simply raising a hand to pat his head. For a few moments, he simply leaned against you, feeling his eyes sting and burn with a mixture of fatigue and sadness. Was he really that tired?

“You put too much responsibility on your own shoulders, Clay,” you murmured, your hand leaving his head. “You’re allowed to be your own person. You’re allowed to spend time to yourself. You’re allowed to take care of yourself—you need to.”

You pulled back slightly, and he raised his head. His lungs felt like they had tied themselves into a knot in his chest, but the moment his eyes met yours, he could suddenly breathe clearly again.

“Please,” you said, “come to bed with me.”

He blinked. Then, he nodded. “Okay.”

He didn’t miss the smile that stretched across your face as you reached over to save his code, turning off his monitor. As soon as the studio filled with darkness, you slipped your hand into his, tugging him out of his chair and up the stairs. He didn’t remember walking into the bathroom, but you were suddenly shoving his toothbrush in his hand.

“I’ll wait for you in our room,” you said, “okay?”

He nodded again, still too dazed to fully comprehend anything. He only half remembered brushing his teeth, spitting out the toothpaste as he rinsed out his mouth in the sink. Before he knew it, he was standing in the doorway to the bedroom, his eyelids already drooping. You were sitting on the bed, your legs curled beneath you and the blankets pulled back for him.

The moment he stepped inside, you lifted your chin, tilting your head at him. “You done?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but cut himself off with a yawn. Wiping at his blurring vision, he nodded. “Mhm.”

The pleased grin you sent him made his heart swell with affection. “Perfect.” You patted the space in front of you. “C’mere.”

Without an ounce of hesitation, he walked forward and climbed onto the bed, settling his head back against the pillow as you pulled the sheets up over him. After a few seconds of shifting, he finally settled down, his shoulders sagging as he let the tightness seep out of his body and into the bed.

“Comfy?” you asked softly, your voice washing over him like a soothing melody.

He shifted his head slightly, his legs curling further into the warm blankets. “Very.”

He could only imagine the soft smile on your face, a fond look filling your eyes. “When’s the last time you slept before four o’clock?”

He thought for a moment. If he had the energy, he would have shrugged. “Can’t remember. Must have been a month ago, or something.”

He could hear the frown in your voice. “That’s not healthy, Clay.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, feeling his lips curl slightly. “Probably.”

There was a slight pause, then he felt your hand in his hair. In an instant, he had melted into putty on the mattress, tilting his head slightly toward you. “You can only run on sheer passion for so long,” you murmured, dragging your fingers through his hair. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed. “People need rest. And good food. And warm hugs. And love.”

He blinked, slow and lazy. “Love?” he repeated.

You hummed. “Yeah.” Dipping your head, you pressed a kiss beside his ear, whispering, “Lots and lots of love.”

He nodded ever so subtly, his head sinking further and further into his pillow. “Love,” he whispered back, caught in a dreamlike haze.

Your fingers scratched against his scalp, and he let out a tiny sigh. “You still with me?”

“Mm,” he mumbled, “not really.”

Your hand stilled for a moment, then carried on. “Good. Go to sleep, Clay.” He could hear the soft smile in your voice. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He said something back, or at least he thought he did, but he had drifted too far to care at that point.

This was nice. He missed this.

That night, Clay fell asleep with your hands in his hair and a smile on his face—feeling warm, safe, and oh-so loved.

[biggest-stupidhead]

Heyy!!

I dont think there's such think as semen donors in aot cannon?

BUT WHAT IF Captain Levi agrees to be the donor to squad leader (or just cadet) reader in a platonic relationship/eventual romance?

Just cute ackerbabies!

Lmao you’re probably right, no semen donors in canonverse. But I honestly love this idea so much, I feel like it would be hard for Levi to make that romantic connection so I could see him making that choice, and maybe it developing into something more!

Summary: Levi can’t wait any longer to start a family, and you are willing to take that step with him.

Word Count: 1.7K

__

You choked on the small sip of tea that you had taken. Catching the small drops of liquid that had escaped your lips.

“Come again now?” You managed to form words after a moment, Levi seemed uninterested as always, those charcoal grey eyes dull and apathetic.

“You heard me just fine, you know that I hate repeating myself.” He scoffed as he shifted so that his leg was crossed over his opposite knee,

“Yes I heard you but....marriage?” You were shocked to say the least. Levi had never shown any prior interest in any long term relationship with anyone, although the two of you had hooked up a handful of times.

“I don’t see why not. We already share a room, not to mention that we-”

“Okay I get it, just...it’s a big commitment and I’m not sure that I’m-”

“Oh please, what else do we have to look forward to anymore? No more fighting, no more political issues to deal with might as well settle down and...” He trailed off, his gaze cast downwards into his cup of tea, which was probably cold by now. You sighed deeply, placing your cup down gently and leaning back into the sofa that the two of you were seated on. His arm was slung casually across the back of the sofa, his finger tips ghosting over your shoulder.

“I know but Levi...marriage?” you were a bit disappointed. He had said it so casually, as if he was asking you if you wanted to run to the market to grab apples.

“If you don’t want to then just say no.” He snapped, clearly getting frustrated, he rose to his feet and began to march towards his desk. You chased after him, catching his wrist. You knew it was difficult for him to express himself, to put things lightly or being considerate to your feelings.

“It’s not that...I’m just a little caught off guard.” You admitted as you held his wrist gently. He let out a breath that he had seemed to have been holding in, he turned and laced his fingers through yours, his other hand diving into his pant pocket. You waited patiently for him to say something, but he only pulled out a small black box. Your heart skipped a beat, this was more how you had pictured being proposed to. He fell onto his knee and opened the box slowly, revealing a modest silver ring with a small diamond embedded in the ring.

“Oh Levi...” Your fingers were still laced with his as he knelt down, you squeezed his hand affectionately.

“I already bought the damn ring, just say yes.” He grunted, averting his gaze as his thumb glided over your knuckle.

“You have a point there.” You chuckled as you gave him a small nod, which was enough of a yes for him.

__

You were married by the end of the month, a simple court house wedding with Armin and Mikasa as your witnesses. Afterwards you had gone home and eaten dinner as usual. Just another week, except now the sex that you and Levi occasionally had, became a hell of a lot more regular. You had no complaints, or at least that was until you were hunched over the kitchen sink puking your guts out. You had missed your period as well, and it didn’t take a genius to know what that meant. You decided to wait until you were certain to tell anyone this however, seeing how difficult pregnancy could be, and the unlikeliness of carrying to full term seemed high.

So you made sure to go to the doctor twice before telling Levi that you were pregnant. He’d had a very similar reaction that you’d had when he had asked to marry you.

He choked on his tea, his hand flying to his chin to catch the liquid.

“Pregnant?” He repeated, and you nodded, leaning against the table where he was sitting.

“H-How long until...”

“Give or take seven months.” You shrugged, trying to put on a brave face, after seeing how frazzled he was you wanted to make this as casual as the rest of your relationship.

“So...we should probably start cleaning out that spare room and-” You cut him off by kneeling down and placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“We’ve got plenty of time for that, for now let’s just...enjoy not being responsible for a helpless shitty baby.” You said softly as you slowly sank onto his lap. He hummed his approval, but still seemed rightfully on edge.

“We can start cleaning the room in few weeks, there’s no rush.” You assured him as you scattered kisses across his sour face.

“I’ll start tomorrow.” Levi hummed as he tilted his head to the side.

__

Turned out that you were both in way over your head. Around 12 weeks into your pregnancy Hange was pressing her stethoscope to your rapidly swelling belly when she froze. Levi tensed when he noticed this, and you frowned.

“What is it?” Levi asked as he gripped the back of the exam table.

“Nothing’s wrong...just-”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Levi scowled as he watched Hange continue to feel around your stomach.

“That’s cause it isn’t nothing, I’m hearing two heart beats.” Hange told you as she stood to her full height.

“Two heart beats?” You felt feint at the news, you had known that twins ran in your family but you had never expected to have them yourself.  

“Yes, it appears that you are having twins” Hange said with a wide smile as she folded up the stethoscope. Your vision blurred, the worry that you had been experiencing prior to the appointment had doubled along with the number of children you were having. 

“No shit.” Levi replied breathily as he held your shoulder firmly. 

“If I were you guys I’d go clean out that room now.” Hange advised as she cleaned up the space that you had been using as a makeshift exam room in her office. 

“I’ll get right on that.” Levi said, shooting you a concerned look as he helped you up onto your feet. 

__

The twins were born premature, the labor itself wasn’t nearly as bad as you had expected. But you realized that it wasn’t that bad because of how small they were. The only reason that they both survived was thanks to the Marleyan medical equipment that had been shipped over courtesy of Zeke and Yelena. You and Levi spent countless hours in the hospital as you awaited for the twins to be discharged. In that window of time you decided on names, it was difficult but you decided on Harrison and Harper. You weren’t surprised to find that they both took after their father, dark bluish grey eyes with a full head of black hair. The one thing they seemed to have gotten from you was your facial structure and your complexion. 

It was a massive relief to bring them home, now instead of staying up until the wee hours in the hospital you could do it in the comfort of your own home. 

One particular evening you were walking laps with Harrison, gently patting his back as you bounced off of your heels as he cried. On your third lap around the entire cottage, you peeked into the nursery to see Levi reclined on the rocker with Harper fast asleep. His eyes were closed, his naked chest rising and falling evenly as he slept. You envied him as you rubbed circles on Harrison’s back once more. His cries slowly died out and you managed to drag yourself to your bed and place Harrison down gently. Using the extra pillows, you managed to make a small barrier between him and yourself as well as the edge of the bed. It wasn’t often that you got to do this, seeing as you usually slept with Levi. But Harrison seemed content with laying in his dad’s spot for the night. His big blue eyes were watching your hair sway over his face as you adjusted the pillows. He cooed and babbled for a few minutes before falling silent, his tiny breaths putting you at ease. 

It couldn’t have been but an hour later when the sound of Harper crying woke you once more. Levi was pacing around the same way that you had been earlier before he finally managed to put her at ease. He returned to your room to see you sitting up, Harrison fast asleep at your side. 

“Care to join us?” You asked, voice gruff with sleep, or rather the lack there of. 

“Would I ever.” Levi groaned as he placed Harper in the pillow barrier with Harrison who was still fast asleep. He managed to squeeze onto the bed, laying on his side like you were as the two of you watched Harper sooth herself into sleep. His gaze left the small baby in favor of studying your features. 

“What would you have done if I had never asked you to marry me?” The question caught you off guard, your fingers were tracing the soft features of your babies. You hummed in thought but the answer was already on the tip of your tongue. 

“I’d have asked you to marry me.” You said with a wry smile and Levi rolled his eyes at your cheesy reply. 

“That’s not what I meant...well not really.” Levi grumbled, you paused again in thought. What would you have done? Certainly no more military work, that chapter was over for you. 

“Maybe I’d open a bakery. My grandmother left me all of her recipes. What would you do?” You asked, finger running along the soft dark locks of hair that were growing from Harrison’s head. 

“I’d open a tea shop.” Levi answered quickly, his own gaze back on the babies, his hand resting on Harper’s stomach, rising and falling with her breathing. 

“Why don’t we just say fuck it and do it?” You asked, not sure if you were serious or if it was the lack of sleep talking. 

“There was that space for lease last time we went into town...” Levi offered thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, we could fix it up and open a cafe.” You said excitedly as you leaned over the sleeping babies in hopes of coaxing a kiss from Levi. He nodded in agreement before leaning over and planting a kiss to your lips. 

“We’ll talk about it in the morning. Go to sleep.” Levi sighed as he stretched out on his side, and closing his eyes. You smiled and mirrored him, your hand resting on Harrison’s stomach now as well, your fingertips brushing his. 

You knew that you’d made the right choice. Marrying Levi was the best decision that you’d made in a long time. It may not look like the typical love story, but you knew that it was real, realer than most relationships. And you wouldn’t want to have it with anyone else. 

[high-supernatural]

Rituals Take 2

Kai Parker x Female Reader

Request: Can you do the Rituals story but like a part 2 but the roles are reversed.

Word Count: 2517

Warnings: Kn!fe play (sorta, not really), smut, lots of smut, dom!kai, readers first time.

After the merge, Kai was having something of an existential crisis. He started feeling emotions and was thrown into a crisis of “who am I.” His whole identity was merged with the identity of his polar opposite. He was confused and desperate to find out who he really was.

Six months ago, a girl rescued him from the prison world. Since she was young, she was able to travel to other worlds in her dreams, that’s how she met Kai for the first time. When she grew older, she was able to physically travel there, and she got him out. She stayed with him through the merge, through getting magically sick, and now through what seems like a never-ending existential crisis. They were close, very close. It was almost as if they had known each other their whole lives. They knew no boundaries with each other, and constantly tested how far they would let each other go with their physical boundaries. Now things were different. He was withdrawn, stand offish, and seemed to be shutting himself out from the world.

They spent over a month with their eyes endlessly glued to occult books to find anything about merging identities but came up even more lost the more they read. Each time they came up with nothing, Kai shut down more. Over time, she started shutting down too because she didn’t know how else to help. They ignored each other and really only spoke when they were getting food, but even then, it was soft mumbles.

They sat in their hotel room like this every day until Kai found something in one of the books they had.

“I think I found something,” Kai interrupted the deafening silence in the room without taking his eyes off the book.

“What? Another theory?” She mumbled back.

“Not really a theory…” Kai trailed, “more of a method. It’s like an astral projection,” he looked up at her just to see that her eyes were still glued to the book she had.

Kai sighed dramatically, “it says it’s a ritual, all it calls for is basic things we can get at the gas station,” he kept looking at her ignoring him.

“Hm,” was all she responded with as she flipped a page, “it would probably just turn out like every other ritual we’ve tried, I wouldn’t bother,” she said bluntly.

“I don’t think so,” Kai said as if he was his normal self again, “it’s a ritual to see into the soul, you can’t get to know yourself any deeper than that.”

She closed her book and sat back in her chair in a sarcastic way, “fine, what does it call for?”

“Oh, you know, your basic magic things…” he trailed again as if to add an element of anticipation, “black candles, weird sigil, blood…” he paused again.

“And?” she asked, pretending to be annoyed with his dramatics.

“And sex,” he smiled innocently.

Her eyebrows raised for a split second as she leaned forward in her chair before standing, “oh cool, now you just have to trick somebody into having freaky ritualistic sex with you,” she said before walking behind Kai to the small kitchen they had in their hotel room.

“Would I have to trick you?” he said with his back towards her.

She paused what she was doing in the kitchen but didn’t respond. They let a few seconds of awkward pause pass them before Kai snuck up behind her, standing only centimeters from connection, and pushed her hair to the other side of her neck so he could see her face.

“Would I have to trick you?” he asked again with his hand under her chin, knowing she’d move her face away from him if he didn’t.

“Uh… no, I guess not,” she spoke with reddening cheeks.

“O.m.g… are you nervous?” Kai teased and poked her side. She never got nervous or flustered in front of him, she avoided it like hell.

“No,” she turned around to face him with her hands in her hoodie pockets, “just, why me? What if it doesn’t work?”

Kai circled his fingers around the strings on her hoodie, still standing suffocatingly close to her, “you’re a witch, you know the game, you’re probably the only person I know who won’t freak out and run when I ask if we can mix our blood and disconnect our souls from our bodies in a freaky sex romp…” he moved his eyes up her body until they met her eyes, “plus it helps that you’re hot.”

She looked down so Kai wouldn’t see her blush, but he objected by lifting her chin back up, “so, are you in?” Kai asked.

“I will platonically have a ‘freaky sex romp’ with you if there’s a chance it will snap you out of your identity crisis,” she smirked.

She stayed at the hotel to set up what she could while Kai left to get more things for the ritual. When he got back, she had already drawn the sigil on the floor and set most things up, the only thing left was the candles that Kai set up right when he got there.

She watched him lay the candles in a circle on the ground before he grabbed her hand for them to both be standing in the circle.

She starred at his serious facial expressions as he drew blood from his hand, “are you sure you want to do this?” she asked, more for herself than for him.

“I need to know who I am,” Kai responded.

“Well, what if it doesn’t work?”

Kai rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand, bringing his knife to it but stopping after he looked at her, “do you not want to do this?” he asked in an impatient tone.

“I just don’t want you to regret anything.”

He rolled his eyes and held onto her wrist, bringing the knife underneath her chin in a playful manner, “are you saying that for me or for you?”

He raised an eyebrow as she kept looking at him silently.

“Both, I guess—” she started before Kai cut her off to ask, “are you nervous?” he paused with a pondering look, “you’ve never done this before,” he chuckled through his nose, “have you?”

She shook her head ‘no’ so slightly it was almost unnoticeable.

He looked down at her hand as he brought the knife back there without drawing blood yet, “well, I’ll tell you what,” he looked back at her face, “we can either do this first and I’ll give you a real, extravagant, spectacular first time ever later, or the other way around,” he studied her expressions and bit his lip, “it’s up to you.”

“Well, we’re already here, so I guess the first option works,” she teased.

He brought her into a kiss right as he drew blood from her hand and interlocked their fingers, dropping the knife on the ground and moving his other arm up the back of her hoodie to rest around her waist, kissing her softly.

Kai unlocked their hands and pulled her body closer to him by the front waist of her shorts, “did I mention we have to be one-hundred-percent naked for this,” he teased, brushing his lips against hers before going back for a more passionate kiss and unbuttoned her shorts.

He pulled her shorts just enough for them to fall on their own. She tightened her legs from nervousness as Kai snaked one arm around her, cupping her ass to pull her even closer to him. Their bodies pressed together as his lips moved to her neck and his other hand trailed softer than a feather to rub the back of his knuckles down the front of her lace covered core resulting in her closing her legs tighter trying to ignore how weak her knees felt.

He sneaked his hands in between her tightened legs to cup her core and gently rub his thumb over her soft spot, “relax,” he whispered and pecked her lips once more before moving her to lay on the floor.

She propped herself up with her elbows and kept both ankles on either side of Kai’s legs with her knees pressed together as she watched him take his shirt off.

Kai whispered “incendia,” and the candles ignited as he spread her knees apart and ushered her to lay on her back with his lips attached to her neck, moving down her chest before lifting her hoodie up to expose her bare breasts.

He cupped one of her breasts as his lips traveled down the middle of them, looking up at her, he whispered, “you okay?”

She nodded and moved a hand to his hair, the other to where his hand rested on her hip.

His lips traveled further down until they reached her still clothed core and pulled himself up onto his knees with her hand in his, pulling her up to rest her knees underneath her.

Looking up at him, he guided her hand to feel the hardness in his pants before she removed his belt and pulled them down to expose his length, taking it in her hand as he lifted her hoodie over her head and slipped his hand under her panties.

Kai ran two fingers between her gates and softly pushed her onto her back again without removing his hand. He knelt between her legs, keeping them open by holding underneath one of her knees and slipped one finger inside.

She breathed in and swiftly moved a hand over his, the other to cover her mouth.

“It’s okay,” he whispered before inserting another finger and began pumping slowly as his thumb rubbed light circles on her clit. He leaned down to take one of her breasts into his mouth before using his free hand to hold the wrist she had placed over his hand onto her stomach before pumping faster.

He listened to the soft moans and whines she tried to muffle and couldn’t help but to tell her how perfect she was.

When she started shifting her hips into his fingers, he removed his hand and sat back on his knees, pushing her legs closed to grab both sides of her underwear and slowly pulled them off, spreading her legs for him again and rubbed his thumb down her folds once more.

He aligned himself with her entrance, pushing her knees up to her chest, “ready?” Kai whispered. She nodded and placed a hand on his stomach to control his pace. He slowly entered her with a look of pleasure and vulnerability on his face as he went deeper and began to move slowly.

As Kai picked up his pace both of their visions went dark, and they woke up in a dark world with a blue hue surrounding a forest full of leafless trees.

“Where are we?” she asked, but when she looked over at Kai, he wasn’t there. She looked around until she saw a figure in the distance – a tall figure about eight feet in height with gigantic elk shaped horns and what looked like a long robe covering its body. She didn’t even register the image of this figure in her mind before she called its name, “Kai,” she squinted, “how’d you get over there?” It was as if she knew who the figure was even though it didn’t look like the Kai she knew as a human.

The figure transported itself to stand directly in front of her, revealing its dark aura and red eyes, “this is what I am,” it spoke with a distorted voice before placing its hands on either side of her head.

She woke up back in the hotel room the second they both reached their orgasms, both a sweaty, moaning mess as Kai collapsed his face into the crook of her neck riding them both out.

“What the hell was that” she breathed, placing her hands on his shoulders to push him off her so she could stand up and quickly put her hoodie back over the hickey ridden chest Kai gave her as they were both blacked out.

Kai sat on his knees, “I know who I am,” he placed a hand between her thighs to pull them closer to his face harshly. He nibbled at the bottom of her stomach and breathed, “I finally remember who I really am.”

She attempted to push his head from moving further down and tightened her legs as Kai tightened his grip on her thigh, “Kai, you have to tell me what you saw,” she tried explaining.

He licked a stripe up her core, resulting in her legs partially buckling from the unexpected sensation, “I will,” he moved her body to the side to push her onto the bed. “But I promised you a real first time afterwards, remember?” he knelt before the bed he laid her on and moved his face between her legs.

“Kai, it can wait—” she was cut off by an unconscious gasp of air as his lips sucked on her clit roughly.

She moved a hand to grab at his hair and placed the other around the arm he rested on her stomach, arching her back and moving her hips uncontrollably at the pleasure.

Kai sucked harder and flicked his tongue around in fast, rough motions. It was as though his old self was finally back. “Kai—really—it can—” he cut her off by inserting two fingers into her, pumping as soon as he entered her causing her to moan loudly and grip his arm tighter.

She had never felt this many sensations before. The pleasure he was sending her was the loudest deafening feeling she had ever felt. She couldn’t resist giving into it as her second orgasm washed over her, leaving fingernail marks in Kai’s arm and filling the room with moans.

He snaked both arms underneath each side of her legs and held her wrists with them, pushing her through a third orgasm before he pulled himself up to her face with her arms being pushed above her head, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of that,” he whispered before laying his lips on hers, letting her taste herself, “don’t you taste so good?”

“Glad you’re back, Kai… Can you tell me what you saw now?”

Kai pulled her legs so that her core was fully exposed to him at the edge of the bed and pushed his length into her again slowly.

“It wasn’t really what I saw…” he started as she watched in awe that he was really having a casual conversation as he was about to fuck her again, “it was just what I felt,” he thrusted slowly. Her eyelids grew heavier as she forced them to stay open enough to concentrate on what he was saying.

“I didn’t see anything except the forest, and it was like I downloaded files about who I am again,” he breathed a silent moan and leaned into the crook of her neck again, kissing it softly.

“So, thank you for helping me,” he whispered.

​​​

[trueshellz]

Hello! Can I request Osamu and Kuroo finding out their S/O has trouble functioning recently. Like usually they're working a lot and being productive but now they're burnt out – no motivation, skipping meals, can't sleep, etc. If this is too much, please feel free to ignore! Thank you!

Thank you for the request! 💜

Osamu

You had always been good at hiding your stress from your family and it was no different when you started dating. Work had been more stressful than usual, there had been lots of looming deadlines and the change in management meant that the new person was trying to leave their mark on the company. Being a perfectionist, you didn't want your work scrutinised and had taken to working long hours with little sleep.

Osamu was aware of this, knowing to keep his distance when you had lots to do. Not because he didn't like your job, but more so that you would get little done, instead playing games or making out. You had planned to see him properly but he would always pop in during the early evening to drop off some food for you.

What you hadn't shared with him was how stressed you had felt. Instead of eating, the food had been piling up untouched. You were up most of the night working on the changes coming through from the new manager and relied on coffee and caffeine pills to help. When going into work had become too stressful, you had taken some time off to recover and focus on yourself. But this had just made you fall into a dark hole. You spent all day in pyjamas, barely eating still and slept most of the day. You didn't know how to tell your hardworking boyfriend how you felt, especially since he was so busy with the shop. If he could manage a business you should be able to do your job right?

It was the second week of not seeing you daily, Osamu was starting to get worried. You had told him that you were staying with family for a bit as you had been stressed with work and didn't want to take time away from him setting his restaurant up. You still spoke everyday, less so on video or the phone but your text conversations went on for ages.

"Osamu! How are you?"

Glancing up, he saw your parents approaching the shop as he was putting up a notice board. They had known for a while that you had been dating, being supportive of you both and the relationship between you had been great.

"I'm ok. How are you both? How's my lovely girlfriend doing?"

The shock on their faces was almost palatable, they both looked at each other confused before turning back to him.

"We've not spoken to her for about 3 weeks. She said she was staying at her apartment as she had deadlines to meet and needed to focus. You know how her siblings are when she's home."

"But..."

Osamu felt his heart stop as your parents told him what else you had said. The worst thoughts going through his mind as he listened half-heartedly to them. There was no reason to lie to him or your parents. He couldn't think of why you had spun this story to lie to everyone.

Waving farewell to your parents, his thoughts swirling around his head as he finished work and tidied up the shop. By the time he locked up, he was just angry at you. How dare you lie to him? You knew how much he valued truthfulness and honesty.

Storming to you apartment, he planned his conversation in his head. He was going to confront you about lying to your parents, lying to him and about not spending time with him. If you didn't want to date him, you should have just said. Knocking on your door, he waited for you to answer but there was nothing, the lights were off and he couldn't see inside. He didn't like using the spare key you gave him, not wanting to be that boyfriend who didn't trust their partner. But it seemed like he had no choice.

Unlocking your front door, he was shocked to see your post on the floor, more than would accumulate from a day or two. Walking through and calling our your name, he could see the apartment was messy too. The food he had been sending on the worktops, work papers all over the floor and your curtains were all closed too. He kept calling your name until he reached your room, hoping to hear you reply. Were you unwell? Why hadn't you told him? He would have helped you, looked after you.

You had been in bed all day, apart from a quick shower and eating a banana, the energy you usually had had completely depleted. Everything hurt. Arms. Legs. Head. Back. Your eyeballs hurt. How was that even possible? You thought you heard your name being called but figured it was just your mind playing tricks on you. It wasn't until your bedroom door opened and Osamu's face came into your peripheral vision did you really start to panic.

"'Samu... I... what?"

All thoughts of reprimanding you flew straight out the window when he saw you. Osamu actually felt his stomach drop. Your usually bright and cheerful face was dull, your eyes were sunken and you had bags under them, he was sure you'd lost weight and didn't even want to ask when you had last eaten.

"Baby."

That one word was enough to have you breaking down into tears, not pretty ones, loud and gut wrenching sobs as he rushed over and pulled you close. Yep, definitely lost weight. His chin resting on your head as he shushed you, arms wrapped around you tightly as he rubbed your back. Your tears soaking the front of his jacket, hand curled in his top as if he'd disappear. You hadn't realised how much you missed him until he appeared in front of you.

"Baby, why didn't ya tell me? I woulda come sooner."

You shook your head, unable to form words he he climbed into bed with you. Pulling you forward so you lay on him, his arms wrapped around you as you lay there. For a long time neither of you spoke, content to lay there while your breathing settled back down and eventually falling asleep again. As you did, he couldn't help but shed a few tears at the sight of seeing you so exhausted and broken, especially after he thought the worst, made him feel like shit. How could he have been so blind? He should have seen something was wrong?

"'Samu?" He felt you move and sit up, instead pushing your head back onto his chest, he cuddled you close and squeezed you lightly.

"I'm here, baby. Don't worry."

"'M sorry."

"For what?"

"Lying."

If he hadn't cried already, he was sure you were going to make him cry again. Closing his eyes against the tears, he propped you up so you could look down at him. Brushing the hair behind your ears, he thumbed your cheek lovingly before kissing you softly.

"I wish ya'd told me, baby. I woulda helped. I woulda checked on ya more and-"

"I didn't want to burden you. You've been busy with the shop and I just... didn't want to seem like I couldn't manage. And then it just got so much and I didn't know how to fix it."

Sitting up, Osamu pulled you into his lap so you were say sideways and rocked you gently as he spoke.

"Ya never have to be sorry for shit like this. If I'd known, I woulda come sooner. Baby, ya had me worried. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to ya. Listen to me, ya never gonna be alone ok? Let me help ya baby. Lemme take some of the burden ok?" When you shook your head, he smiled and continued. "I love ya baby. It's my job to help ya."

"How?"

"Come stay with me for a bit? Even if ya never leave ya room or wanna stay in bed, ya won't be alone. I'll be there to help."

"I don't-"

"Please baby. If nothing else, I'll know that yer OK. That yer not alone and sad. All by yerself thinking that no one cares. Please?"

Kuroo

It was the autumn term and you were struggling. You weren’t sure what it was about this weather that just drained you of energy, the lack of light or the cold seeping into your bones. The idea of having dark mornings and dark evenings made your mood sour and no matter what you did, it wasn’t getting any better. You knew you had work that needed doing, your to do list steadily getting bigger and your will to donit getting smaller.

You had been off school for a week now, with Kuroo away at traing camp he was none the wiser. You were able to hide your troubles from him, he would call in the evening which would he the time you got home. He was always so cheerful, face lit up with his stories about his day and games. Often you would have his teammates crash the call and hear the mayhem as he tried to wrestle the phone away from them.

Last night, Lev had stolen the phone and started complaining about being picked on. As much as you loved your boyfriend, Lev was a sweetheart and you had a huge soft spot for him. Kuroo had wrestled the phone away from him and you watched the fight ensue in the background. With so much going on, it was easy to divert the attention away from yourself, load all the focus on his team and their game today.

Glancing at the clock, you knew the team would be on their way back by now. It was the afternoon and school was still in full force, the homework from last week still on your desk and your phone full of messages from friends asking where you were. Soon you heard Kuroo's special ringtone light up your phone. He would always message you after a match and meet with you, walking you home at the end of the day while filling you in about the camp. You would pick up snacks on the way and the lounge around on the sofa watching movies together. But today? You just couldn't do it.

Kuroo was confused and worried. Not only had you not answered your phone but you weren't in your class. Your friends hadn't heard from you in a while and that wasn't like you. Dialling your number again, he waved goodbye to his teammates before making his way to your house. He was almost there, turning back at the last minute to grab your favourite flowers and food from your local shop.

Arriving at your house, he could see that the lights were off but your car was parked outside. Calling you again, he could hear your phone ring from inside the house but you made no attempt to answer it. Banging on the door, he waited and waited. Tension growing by the minute when you didn't appear.

"Kitten! I can hear your phone ringing. Answer the door."

You knew you should answer it, you phone had rang about twelve times and you had about twenty messages as well as four voicemails. Dragging yourself out of bed, you went to your window and peered out, seeing his dark hair as he bent over his phone. The image tugged at your heart, you could see his brows furrowed as he bounced on his toes. A sure sign that he was anxious and worried.

"Kitten. Open the door. I can see your shadow in the window."

You tensed as he said that, begrudgingly walking to the door and bracing yourself against it. Tears forming in your eyes as you thought about how you worried everyone, how much of a letdown you were and how unreliable.

"Baby." His voice was softer now, closer too. "Open the door. I'm worried about you. Lemme at least see you ok? If you wanna be alone afterwards, I'll leave."

Cracking the door open a few centimetres, you peered through and saw Kuroo's face. It instantly softened, you felt your eyes fill with tears as he reached across and ran his thumb under your eyes, most probably seeing the dark circles you had. Letting him push the door open further, you let him pull you into a hug. His arms wrapping securely around your body as you fell into him, his voice a low shushing in your ear and it was then that you realised you were crying. Tears tracking down your face and soaking his jersey as you stood.

"Kitten, I gotcha. I'll always be here for you. Shhh. Don't cry baby. You're breaking my heart here. Let's get you inside yeah? I bought some food and we can lounge around like always." He pulled away and a look of panic crossed his face. "If that's what you want. If not, I'll go. I don't wanna intrude or-"

"No, Tetsu. I'd love to have you here... but, I'm not in a great place. I don't wanna-"

"Baby listen, my heart is wherever you are. If you're hurting, I'm hurting too. We'll get through this together ok? Let's stay in bed, watch some movies and eat our body weight in junk. If you're feeling up to it tomorrow, we'll organise things yeah? School work. Homework. Whatever. I'm back now, you don't have to do this alone."

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Little Sparrow - Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand/F! Reader

A/N: I sat down to write Sleepy Sex with Oberyn because @wasicskosgirl​ had me thinking some thots today and this is what came out. It’s not sleepy sex but I really hope you like it. Thank you for reading, reblogging, commenting, and liking. There will be at least a part two to this, possibly more. 

Pairing: Oberyn Martell/ Ellaria Sand/ F! Reader 

Warning: 18 + (Language, smut, vaginal sex, kissing, oral (F! receiving) mentions of blood, violence) It’s Game of Thrones....

Word Count: 3.8 K 

My Masterlist 

Part One 

It was a beautiful day, the sun high overhead, the ocean waves crashing against the Cliffside as you held your arms across your waist. The boats in the distance swayed in the gentle breeze, and behind you the excited chatter of the spectators fill the stands. The lions on the banners seem to come alive as they snap in the wind. Growling at you and causing the pit in your stomach to grow deeper. 

Oberyn was insatiable last night training in the room, twirling his spear in preparation for the fight of his life. You’d escaped with an escort to walk the shit smelling cesspool of Kings Landing to this very spot where you had seen him. The Mountain. Man after man being cut down as his sword sliced through them like bread. His deep baritone laugh sent a quiver through your heart. 

You jump as Oberyn wraps his arms around your waist, his chin dropping to your shoulder. Both of you watching the water. “Why do you look so worried my little Sparrow?” he coos pressing a kiss to your neck. “I am going to kill that man. I am going to get him to confess to raping and murdering my sister and her children. I will win, for Elia, for my family, for you.” 

He turns you in his arms and brings your hands to his neck like that night so long ago. His forehead coming to rest upon your own. You let out a shaky breath, “I refuse to lose you, Oberyn.” 

He pulls away slightly started, “You only call me Oberyn when you are cross or in insane pleasure my love, and since I’m not buried in your delicious cunt, I believe you are angry. Is that correct?” 

You look into the depth of his eyes before dropping them to the ground. “Keep your eyes on me. Never look away from me, do you understand?” You nod and he lifts your chin before kissing you passionately. His arms coming to engulf you completely. 

“You’re going to fight that?” Ellaria’s alarmed voice breaks the moment, the tension in your shoulders returning. He kisses you softly again before going over to the table and taking a sip of his wine. 

“I’m going to kill that,” his confidence is electric and you step closer to Ellaria. Her hand reaching for your own as you both watch him with bated breath as he comes to stand before you. “Are you worried?” he teases her and she scoffs before pulling him close. 

“Don’t leave us alone in this world,” she begs before kissing him. Their tongues twisting together and you feel your mouth water at the site. He pulls back as the crowd roars to life. 

“Never,” he looks from her to you and back. “I love you.” He spins the spear and turns on the charm, the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand. You watch as he taunts the Mountain of a man before him, before the Viper strikes. 

The scene replays over and over in your head. The moment he stabbed his spear through the thick armor of his belly. The way your heart clenched in elation at after so long receiving his most treasured of wishes. Seeing the man who brutally raped his sister and murdered her children confess his sins. Then in a moment, the elation bled like the golden skin of your lover. He was overturned and laid beneath the giant, a breath away from being crushed to death. The gloves the size of two golden pumpkins on a harvest feast table began to crush the head of the man you loved. 

Ellaria screamed, grasping her head in horror, Tyrion standing there in shock. You don't think, running across the courtyard, unsheathing the knife from your thigh, and plunging it through the head of the giant. Blood spurting from his wound as the tip of the knife exits through his eye. 

Shocked, he fell to the ground, dead, Oberyn using what strength he had left to push him off. His face a mess of blood and sweat, left eye wide and dazed. Jaw most likely broken from the punch to his face. The right closed tight and crushed from the thumb of the monster you'd slain. The crowd erupts into outrage as your chest pants and anxiety sucks the air from your lungs. 

Ellaria ran over to you and embraces you as you collapse to the ground before your Prince. His broken body reaching out for you both. You feel his hand graze yours and look into the beautiful brown iris of the man you love. The roar of the crowd fading as you focus on him, feeling him pull you from the water as your lungs re-inflate. 

The maester comes and declares the Mountain dead before you are ripped from the arms of Ellaria and Oberyn by the King's guard. By order of the Hand, you are to be imprisoned by meddling in a match to the death. You let out a breathless scream as Oberyn tries to get up, and Ellaria reaches for your hand. The ghost of her fingers slipping through your own. The Dornish guards coming for her to pull her back. One paramour is lost they would not do if both were to be taken. You fix your eyes on Oberyn as the doors shut in your face, and you dragged away to the dark, desolate dungeons of the lower kingdom. 

Two days. Two days of shivering in the darkness. The constant drip coming from outside as a summer rain drags down upon the concrete walls of stone, driving you mad. This must be what insanity feels like. No reprieve in sight for the unending torment you shall endure at the hands of these Northerners. Footsteps in the distance sounds, and you lift your head from your knees. The golden yellow dress adorned with the Martell suns now dirty and covered in filth. Your beaded headpiece you borrowed from Ellaria is cradled in your hands, your fingers grazing over the beads, soothing to the touch. 

You remember the night of the wedding when you went to bed with her. The way she watched you through her dark lashes as her tongue buried itself in your cunt. You laid bare for her in nothing but the beaded headdress against the soft pillows and furs. Oberyn standing in the shadows watching, his mouth curving into a smile as he takes a sip of his wine. The memory fades, and you look upon the cell door to see the vision of your fantasy, Ellaria, draped in a dark cloak, almost blending in with the shadows. 

"Little sparrow, are you alright?" her voice coos among the harshness that surrounds you. You crawl to your knees and stand on shaky legs. "You look pale. Have they fed you?" You shake your head no and place your hands through the bars, reaching for her hands. She lets out a gasp at the chill of your skin and furiously rubs your hands between her own. 

"Is...is he alive?" your voice is hoarse from disuse, but she knows who you mean. 

Nodding, "Yes, very much alive and raising absolute hell. He has been advised by the master, you know the old fat one who you said made your skin crawl?" You tremble, thinking of how his beady eyes followed the curve of your breasts in your dress. "He told him to rest, but he will not until you are released and in his arms again. He wanted to come here himself, but that Lannister creature refused, thinking he would release you and run away into the night." 

"How are you here then?" you ask, holding tightly to her hand as the other runs across the skin of your cheek. 

"I am like a cat in the dead of night; no one would suspect me to come and see you. I brought you some things." She releases your cheek and brings around a satchel from under the cloak, removing a chunk of crusty bread, some hard cheese, and a small pouch of wine." You eagerly reach for the food taking a bite of the bread and uncapping the wine, taking a large gulp. 

Food had never tasted so good before, the cheese you placed in the fold of your dress for later with the other half of the bread. Who knows how long you would be in this hell before you found reprieve and were rejoined with your lovers.

 You may never see them again. You may never see your daughter again. The gravity of the situation sinks in, and you feel the sob swell in your chest before it breaks free. The tears falling freely down your cheeks as she shushes you, cupping your cheeks through the bars. 

"Sweet love, we will get you out of here. You do not need to fear; Oberyn and I will return home to Dorne with you very soon." You sniffle as she rubs your tears away, pulling you toward her and placing a delicate kiss on your lips. "I have something else for you," she whispers against your lips before kissing you again and pulling away to reach under the cloak. "This is from Oberyn." 

She holds it out to you, and you tremble hands shaking as you reach for it. Hand opening and closing in hesitance before you touch the envelope. The smooth parchment warm under the icy fingers clenched around your throat. "Does," you look down at the paper, "Does he hate me?" 

"What are you talking about? Did you not hear me tell you he is tearing Kings Landing apart to get you out of here?! Why would you think such a thing?" her hands grasp yours, and you look up at her through your tears. 

"I denied him an honorable death; I wounded his pride. He is the Red Viper of Dorne and his, whore, is the one who killed the Mountain. What if he is only trying to save me so he can kill me himself?" Speaking your fears from the last two days aloud made your heart splinter and crack. 

Her hands tighten, "My sweet sparrow, please," she begs, "read the letter. Let it ease your mind and heart." You hear the sound of footsteps down the corridor, and she tightens her grip, "I must flee, back to our Prince, but please do not despair. You will be back in our arms and bed soon." She pulls you closer and kisses you again, slipping her tongue past your lips as her fingers glide against your skull. She pulls away abruptly and disappears into the darkness of the night. 

You retreat to the shadows of your cell as a guard passes the door and sneers down at you, spitting into the cell, "Dornish slut." He walks off, and you let the tears fall like gems down your cheeks pulling the envelope close to your face. The smell of fresh citrus and bergamot drifting into your nostrils, and they flare as your transported back to your first night with him. 

*******

A light mist from the ocean drifting over your heated skin as you looked upon the night sky, stars twinkling like gems, each one unique and special upon the ebony backdrop. You hear the gentle footsteps behind you; he wants you to know he is coming. The Red Viper could easily sneak up on you before he strikes, but every click of his heel is intentional. Your eyes droop closed as you feel the warmth of his chest behind you, enveloping you like a cloak as his arms come to wrap around your shoulders and clasp around your chest. His chin coming to rest upon your shoulder as you drop your head back and lean it against his own. 

"I wasn't sure you would be here," his moist breath tickles your neck, and you shiver. 

"I wasn't sure either, but I can't deny that I want this. That I want you," you slowly open your eyes and turn in his embrace, his hands coming down to your hips. 

"What made you change your mind?" his thumbs rub gentle circles against your waist, and you look up into his russet eyes, deep and velvety. 

"I realized I was only living half a life. Going through the motions but never really existing, until you touched me. My Prince, your touch ignited the flame deep inside me, and I burn for you," he takes your hands in his and brings them to his shoulders and up to his neck. His fingers trailing down your arms and towards the gentle swell of your breast. Breath catching as his thick fingers grazes the edge of your heated skin. 

"Will you promise to be mine then?" his voice, accented and thick, send a tremble down your spine as he steps closer and places a kiss on each of your cheeks, his mustache tickling against the soft skin. Pulling away, he is but a breath away, his lips a ghost against your lips as his eyes bare down into your own. "I am a selfish man; I will want you all to myself." 

"What about Ellaria?" you feel his lips graze your own, and he smiles. 

"Do you want her to join us, my little sparrow?" He kisses you softly, and you emit a small gasp as he slides his tongue against the plumpness of your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and letting go with a light pop. 

"I want all of you," you whisper, "and that includes her. She is as much a part of you; the moon belongs to the night sky." His eyes glow in the moonlight, and he moves his hands down to the clasp of your wrapped dress, dark blue in color, such a contrast to the warm golds and yellows that surround you. 

"May I see you?" he murmurs, and you nod. His fingers move deftly to unclasp the small hook on the side of your dress, pulling it open. Your nipples hardening as the chill runs across them and his eyes widen at finding you bare beneath. "Exquisite," he lets out a breath and allows the dress to slip over your shoulders and down to the floor. He steps away and circles you, your skin vibrating as the viper prepares to strike. His hands leave a blazing path as the pads of his fingers rough run over your flesh. When he comes around full circle, his eyes have darkened obsidian, and he reaches for your hand. 

Taking steps backward and leading you back into the room. The bed in the center of the room is large enough for five people, and you are sure it has held many more than that before. "Lay on the bed," his voice is low and deep, and you do as your told, falling back amongst the plethora of pillows and rich furs. "Spread your legs," you drop your thighs to the bed, and he groans as your cunt is displayed before him, glistening in the moonlight. 

He takes his time and strips off his robes, letting them drop to the ground in a heap. Your heart-stopping and restarting in quick succession as you see his impressive member. Thick and long curved up against his belly, he strokes himself as his eyes devour you whole. Mouthwatering as he pumps himself at your body bare before him. "Where do you want to fuck me, my prince?" 

He growls before taking a step toward you, "everywhere." You clench, and a whimper escapes you as the bed dips, and he kneels between your legs, looking down at you. He starts at your neck and trails his hand down over each swell of your breast, his fingers twisting a nipple and eliciting a gasp as you feel the coil tighten in your belly. Lowering them to your stomach and down your thighs. Stopping at your knees before coming back to the place you want him most. 

His fingers gliding among the seams and then slowly dipping into the heat pooling at your core. Collecting your slick onto his finger and bringing it up to his mouth to taste. "Seven hells you taste better than the sweetest Dornish red," he moans, and you watch with bated breath as he licks his finger clean, his tongue sweeping out to collect your pleasure. "I want to taste you little sparrow, make you take off into the heavens on a cloud." 

You whine, "We have all the time in the world, my Prince, please, please put your cock inside me. I'm weeping for you," you've never begged in your life, but you don't seem to care as he lets out a small chuckle. 

"You are soaked for me," his finger running back and forth between your lips, making you drench him. "Should I give this little cunt my cock? Do you think she's ready?" 

You nod, biting your lip, and he leans forward, notching his cock at your entrance, his body hovering above you. "Don't close your eyes," he whispers, bringing a hand to your chin, "You will keep your eyes on me this whole time, do you understand?" 

"Yes, my Prince." He smiles as he slowly pushes inside of you, both of your moaning as he sinks deeper into your tight heat, and his eyes burn into yours. You bring your hands up to his arms and squeeze as he moves further in, inch by glorious inch until he's seated fully inside you. 

You'd had a couple men over the years. Quick fucks in the stables or the woods where you once lived in the North. Stable boys who finished before you'd even begun or been too drunk to keep it up. Not a single one had made you feel as full and complete as the man above you. So deep, you could feel every ridge of his cock press against the soaked confines of your pussy. "Does that feel good little one?" 

"Yes," you gasp as he pulls out slowly and then quickly shoves back in. The delicious snap of his hips against yours as your skin develops a thin sheen of sweat. He continues his slow, torturous pace until you are withering beneath him in agony. "Seven Hells, please move faster, harder; I want you to fuck me, Oberyn." 

He stops, eyes widening in surprise, "What did you call me?" Your hand goes to your mouth in shock, you'd never called him anything but Prince since your first meeting, and you worry that you've offended him before his voice drops an octave. "Say it again." 

Eyes never leaving him, you whisper, "Oberyn." 

"Louder," his hips start to move faster but still not enough. 

"Oberyn," you say it louder this time, nails digging into his broad shoulders. 

"Louder," he brings a hand down to rub at your clit between you as he moves faster. 

You moan, "Oberyn," it's louder this time, and you feel the heat coming to a crescendo as he shouts at you again. 

"Louder!" 

"OBERYN!" you scream his name as he pounds into you furiously, sure to leave bruises on your flushed skin as you cum, squeezing his cock and gushing around him. He works you through your orgasm, rubbing your clit in time with his thrust before he slows down and moans above you spilling inside. His cum hot and thick, painting your walls as you squeeze him tight, milking him for all he is worth. He collapses to his forearms, and you exhale shakily, trying to catch your breath. 

He slips out of you and collapses next to you on the bed, his hand on his waist. And his other arm coming to wrap around you and curl you closer to his chest. You take a deep breath inhaling the sweet scent of citrus and bergamot that clings to his skin. His fingers tracing patterns on your back. "Would you come take a bath with me, little sparrow?" He looks down at you, his eyes alight with mischief. 

"That seems foolish, my dear Prince," you grin deviously at him. 

"Why is that?" 

"Because I have a feeling we will just end up dirty again," he lets out a booming laugh, and you smile at seeing the joy split across his face. 

"That is very true, but please, indulge me. I want to lay with you in the hot water and wash your beautiful body with my soap so that everyone who gets within in a foot of you will know your mine." He bites the tip of your nose before smiling and getting up to draw you a bath. Watching his backside walk away, his golden skin gleaming in the moonlight. 

******* 

The tears drip onto the envelope, clenched tight in your palms. The edges cutting into your soft skin marred with the dirt from the floor. You squint in the dim light of the fire to see your nickname written in his elegant scrawl. 

Little Sparrow 

Your fingers trace the letters as you turn it in your hand and dip it below the wax seal, a golden sun of house Martell breaking it. Your hands tremble as you take out the letter unfolding it. Your chest feels heavy as though a thousand rocks lay precariously, waiting to crush. You heave as great sobs swell, and the tears flow down your cheeks, almost making it impossible to read in the dim flickering of the light but somehow you manage. 

Little Sparrow, 

I faced death. I could hear the screams of Ellaria, the light closing in as that monster lay above me, crushing my skull beneath his fingers. The sun peaked through, and I prayed to the seven that I would one day see you and Ellaria again. My children flashed before my eyes smiling and running through the gardens of our home. Until I heard the sound of a goddess charging in battle with a cry, and the great evil was slain. The sun returned to my vision, and above me stood you, my golden goddess. 

You saved my life. I have always loved you, from the moment I laid eyes upon you to the moment I believed they would shut forever. I will always love you. I will tear this shit hole of a city apart brick by brick and kill anyone who gets in my way before I let them take you away from me. 

They will rue the day they touched a hair on your perfect head. The Red Viper lays in wait, my little Sparrow, and soon, very soon, he will strike, and you will be back in my arms. We will be home with Ellaria, the girls, and our beautiful Serena; she will know what a fearsome warrior her mama is. 

I love you more than words can express. Soon, my love, I will show you all the ways I love you. Soon. 

Your Prince 

Taglist: @josepedropascal​ @mrschiltoncat​ @mrsparknuts​ @ghostwiththemostbitch​ @zannemes​ @xjaywritesx​ @oldstuffnewstuff​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @heythere-mel​ @justanotherblonde23​ @artsymaddie​ @anetteaneta​ @lunarthoughts​ @aellynera​ @lucifer-​ @houseofthirst​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @chicken-ona-stick​ 

[nikethestatue]

Heyyyyy I love your fanfics there amazing! I was wonder it you could write one of elain and azriel are on a bout with the ic and they all suspect something between them( elain and az) and then azriel get sea sick and elain does some cute stuff to help him and the ic are just looking at them like this 😱🥺🥺😭😭😭😍😍

Here you go! Enjoy

The Summer Barge

“Why are we always late?” Nesta grumbled.

Cassian wanted to point out that ‘always’ was a bit of a stretch, since this was the first time she and he were attending the annual summer barge excursion on the river together. Last year they were very newly mated and therefore went to Day Court, to the beach. Nesta’s never been to the beach before. Cassian was determined to get her into a bathing suit and into the water, and it took a couple of days of persuasion, until she finally agreed. Gods she looked hot in her modest navy one-piece number. He licked his lips, lost in thought.

“What are you grinning about?” she hissed under her breath.

“Nothing, nothing,” he muttered.

“Unca!” Nyx wrapped himself around Cassian’s legs the moment they stepped on the barge.

“Hey big boy! How are you?” Cassian lifted Nyx in one arm, lifting him over his head. Nyx’s little wings fluttered with delight and he screamed and squealed, flailing his arms. The antics earned a wince from Rhys and a sharp intake of breath from Feyre, but Cassian grabbed Nyx and swung him around, disregarding the parents. He and Az were ‘uncas’ and they had a special relationship with Nyx, to which his nosey parents weren’t privy to.

“Where is Elain?” asked Nesta, looking around, after she gave Nyx a kiss on his head.

“Where is Az?” Cassian said at the same time, looking for his brother.

There was confusion all around, everybody looking at each other, trying to figure out what happened to two members of the family.

“I thought you were winnowing them?”

“I thought you were flying her in?”

“I thought she was coming down here on her own?”

Mor got involved, offering to go and look for Elain, while Amren shrugged and smirked.

While everyone was standing around, pointing fingers at each other, Nyx yelled, pointing to the sky, “Unca. Lain!”

“Oh,” Feyre’s brow furrowed, when everyone turned their heads and watched Azriel land gracefully on the bow, cradling Elain to his chest. The moment he was standing, he let her go and she almost jumped out of his arms, smoothing her dress, a blush of her cheeks.

Nyx pranced towards them, though Cassian tucked in his puzzlement at Elain’s sudden awkwardness and Azriel’s overly flushed face.

Come to think of it, one strange thing did happen a year ago, when he and Nesta were in Day.

There was a promenade along the seashore, where residents took their early evening strolls, when the searing Day Court sun finally cooled off a bit and the Fae enjoyed a cocktail or an ice cream, sitting in any of the numerous cafes that dotted the shore. Cassian could’ve have sworn that he saw Azriel and Elain, walking together, his arm slung over her shoulders, and both were eating ice cream. He was absolutely positive that it was them—even in the dim evening light and the distance. But when he pointed them out to Nesta, she waved him off, and then pulled him into a kiss, and by the time they finally disengaged, the phantom figures of his brother and sister were nowhere to be found. So maybe he got a little too much sun that day, and his vision was affected.

He never did ask Az about that.

“So you came with Elain?” Cassian asked by way of greeting.

The barge disembarked and slowly made its way into the river.

He grabbed Nyx’s chubby hand in his, while Azriel took the other, and with Nyx urging them ‘up! up!” they rose slightly in the air, lifting him up and soliciting a pleased shriek from him. “More,” he demanded, and they hovered over the teak flooring of the barge, gently flying their nephew back and forth over the same spot.

“Well, everybody forgot about Elain,” mumbled Azriel. “So I brought her.”

Cassian wanted to ask how Azriel knew that everyone forgot about Elain, but he felt guilty about actually forgetting to pick her up, so he kept his mouth shut.

When Nyx got enough of flying and saw a table of sweet being set up, he rushed to the little pies and cupcakes, leaving his uncles behind.

“Ugh, can I just hover around here for the duration?” muttered Azriel with a grimace.

“I think it would be a little weird if you did,” chuckled Cassian, and then said, “come on, the water is very calm. You’ll be fine.”

Azriel didn’t always react well to the barge. He was fine with sailing, but somehow, the barge, this huge, slow-moving beast made him seasick. This was an annual thing—Azriel trying to find excuses not to attend, never finding them, and then suffering the entire afternoon.

“I don’t know if you know, but you keep looking at Elain,” Cassian muttered under his breath, once they stood back up on the barge.

“I am not!”

“You kind of are. She can’t swim?”

“What?”

“Why are you staring at her? Are you afraid she is going to fall overboard or something? She can’t swim?”

“Elain can swim. And I am not looking at her,” Azriel made a point to turn away from where Elain was standing, talking to Varian and Mor. “I am getting a drink.”

…Azriel was feeling so nauseous, he thought he might faint. That would be a good look—the damn spymaster and shadowsinger of the Night Court puking and passing out on a barge, in front of all the guests. His baby nephew was fine! Running around and dropping food on the floor, round face smeared with icing. But Azriel was not a hyperactive toddler with an iron stomach. He only barely managed to make his way to a dark corner of the barge, where he slumped on the deck, pressing his face to the cold iron railing.

Bile rose and fell in his stomach, churning constantly.

“Hi,”

His shadows failed to inform him that Elain was near, and he was so sick, that he didn’t even scent her, not until she was next to him.

“Hey,” he managed.

She didn’t ask anything about how he was feeling, but gently wrapped her arms around him and said, “come, lie down.”

His misery index was so high, he couldn’t object. It was prudent to object, to play the stoic shadowsinger, but at this moment, he couldn’t be bothered. He put his head on Elain’s lap, inhaling the sweet, familiar fragrance of her body, and closed his eyes.

“Breathe, my love,” she whispered and he smiled softly. Hopefully, they were far away from everyone and their attention. Elain probably shouldn’t have called him ‘her love’ in front of others, but it was so nice to hear, nevertheless. So nice. His eyes closed. Especially when she pressed her fingertips to his temples and began to rub his head in steady, light circles, applying just enough pressure.

“Breathe with me,” she murmured, taking deep, even breaths, and he began mirroring them with his own.

She stroked his jaw, her thumb brushing over his lower lip in a brief, intimate gesture.

“Someone will see,” he whispered.

“I am just giving you a little eucalyptus oil to smell,” she shrugged innocently, smiling down at him.

“Ahhh,” he managed a smile.

Cassian leaned over the railing, enjoying the evening breeze, and then his eyes fell on the scene below.

“Nes,” he muttered conspiratorially. “Nes!”

Nesta appeared at his side and threaded her arm in his, “what?”

“Did you see that?” he jerked his chin towards the lower deck.

Nesta glanced, then hummed, a small smile playing on her lips.

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded.

“Doesn’t he get seasick?” she reminded him non-chalantly.

“Yeah, but usually he isn’t snuggling on Elain’s lap when he does,” he countered.

“Cass,” Feyre approached them from behind and wrapped her arms around both of their waists. Her eyes sparkled, when she exchanged a quick glance with Nesta. “Can you go keep Rhys company?”

“What do you girls know?” he grumbled, eyeing them suspiciously.

Just like that, Mor was there as well, and he was being herded by all these females, who created a veritable cordon with their bodies, leisurely positioning themselves along the railing and obscuring the lower deck.

“Rhysie is feeling neglected,” Mor chirped.

“Why do I have a feeling like you are sending me on some clandestine mission?”

“Talking and laughing with your brother and High Lord isn’t a mission, Cass,” Feyre smiled at him, batting her lashes.

“Yeah, sure,” he sighed. “Fine, I’ll go, but,”

“But you’ll not discuss Elain and Azriel, of course,” sang Nesta lovingly, and stroked his jaw, before giving him a fleeting kiss on the lips.

“Oh, fuck. I knew something was going on,” he groaned. “I knew it!”

“You are very perceptive, darling,” she cooed.

“And you three knew?” he demanded under his breath.

“Knew what?” all three asked in unison, shrugging their shoulders.

[mediocre-writerr]

witchcraft [hope mikaelson]

Hope Mikaelson x fem reader

Requested: Hello!! I saw that you write for the Vampire Diaries and the Originals, but I didn’t see any for legacies. But if you’re willing I was wondering if you could write a Hope x fem reader where the reader is human and you can take it from there :)

Hello friend! I love the Legacies and just caught up with all of it so I am willing to write for them now! I hope you enjoy!

*not my gif*

It was another late night shift for you at the Mystic Grill. Your boss told you that you had to work later on school nights to make up for not being able to work morning shifts due to school. 

You didn’t mind, you had the whole afternoon to get homework done and study. But when it came to sleep, lets just say you had little to none. However, on most late nights a beautiful girl would walk in restless. 

She was brunette with the most piercing blue eyes you have ever seen. At first you were surprised how comfortable she was just walking around late into the hours, but as you got to know her you knew she could handle herself on her own. 

You came to learn that her name was Hope. And you were intrigued by her mysteriousness. She would always leave at the most random times and you never saw her outside of the grill. It’s like she randomly disappears. 

One night you went out to look for her, but she was gone as soon as she walked out the door. It was odd. 

You may rarely see her, but the times you two shared together is all you think about sometimes. Whether it’s in class listening to a boring history lesson or at work when no one is coming in. 

“Mystery girl! You’re back!” you exclaim as you see the brunette come and sit at the bar top in front of you. 

She has a small little smile on her face and when you mean small, it was small. You can’t recall seeing a full on smile from her since you met her and she’s been here quite often. 

“Do you want the usual?” you ask and she nods, “Got it. One peanut butter blast with whip cream at the bottom plus a side of fries coming right up!” 

The mystery girl finally speaks up, “You remember.” she says another small smile on her face and you nod. 

“Of course I do. You’re my favorite.” you say with a little wink before going back to washing the glasses with your handy dandy rag. 

After a few moments of comfortable silence, you hear the ding from the kitchen indicating that her food was ready. You put your rag away and grab her food from the kitchen window placing them neatly in front of her. But not before you steal a fry and plop it into your mouth. 

“I don’t think you’re allowed to do that.” she says with a smile, but this time it was a little bigger. 

You place your finger up to her lips, “Keep it down I do it with every customer and I still haven’t gotten fired yet.” you say jokingly. 

Her smile is replaced with a smirk, “I’m not special then?” she asks teasingly. 

“Oh no. You’re very special, like I said you are my favorite.” you smile at the girl with your flirtatious demeanor, you take another fry from her plate.

You spend the rest of the night talking and hanging out with each other. It was a lot easier to do when no one else came into the restaurant. 

“Can I show you my favorite spot? My shift is just about over and the sun is about to rise, so I know you probably have to leave soon anyway.” you ask her tying your apron up before throwing it into the dirty apron bin. 

Mystery girl raises her eyebrows up, “You’re very observant.” she says and you nod.

“Like I’ve said you’re my favorite.” you say shrugging and she smirks at you again. You stick your hand out and smile at her, “So shall we?” you ask. 

She takes your hand and you guide her outside into the middle of the square. There was a nice little gazebo that was just built, ever since it was built you like to sit outside and drink coffee as the sun rises. 

You reach the gazebo and use your hand that’s in hers to spin her around. After she spins you pull her in towards you as you release her hand and place your hands on her hips. As if on instinct she places her hands on the side of your neck. 

Your faces were mere inches apart as you just stared into those beautiful blue eyes. She smiled at you the first big and genuine smile you’ve ever seen from her, “Well that was smooth.” 

“I try.” you say to her and you guys sway together even when there is no music. 

You begin to lean in closer to her, so close you can feel her hot breath on your lips. She looks into your eyes and back down at your lips. The mystery girl is about to attach her lips onto yours when all of a sudden her phone goes off. 

She rolls her eyes at the sound of her phone before stepping away to have a small conversation, “I’m sorry. I uh I have to go.” she says and you nod slightly disappointed, but you hide it with a smile. 

“Duty calls?” you ask and she nods sheepishly. 

Probably the first time you’ve ever seen her unsure. She’s always so confident, “Sadly.” 

“Ah well I’ll see you soon hopefully?” you say more as a question than an answer. 

She steps closer to you before planting a kiss to your cheek, “You will.” She begins to walk away when all of a sudden the realization hits you. 

“Wait!” you yell from where you’re standing, “What’s your name?” you ask. 

“I’m Hope!” she says showing me her genuine smile, “I’ll see you later Y/N.” Hope replies with a little wave and you smile to yourself. 

Hope. What a beautiful name. 

You’re snapped out of your beautiful memory when a customer smacks the bar top in front of you. 

“Oh I’m sorry sir.” you say shaking your head, “What can I get for you?” 

The grill was empty. The manager had to run home to a family emergency and assured him that you would be okay to close up. He was hesitant, but eventually left so the grill can be kept open. 

“I don’t want anything on the menu.” the man says and you look at him puzzled.

“I’m sorry about that sir, what would you-” you begin before he cuts you off. 

All of a sudden you feel yourself being pushed up against the wall in an instant. The man’s hands were on your neck. His eyes were darkened and his teeth turned into fangs. You tried to let out a little squeal, but his grip was so strong nothing could come out.

“Where is she?!” he yelled and you had no idea who he was talking about. You’re about to try and ask who, but his grip tightens and you can feel yourself losing breath, “Where is Hope Mikaelson?!” he asks again. 

“Right over here asshole!” she yells as the doors flip open. 

An older man with her this time, he was carrying what looked to be a crossbow. But your vision began to blur as your air was fading more and more. 

“Hope do the spell.” the older man says and she nods. 

Hope begins saying words that seemed to have been in Latin and the creature whatever the hell it was fell to the ground. 

But before you can even react to what happened the entire room went dark. 

You awoke on a comfortable bed, your eyes were still closed as you heard a soft conversation from the other side of the room. 

“So that’s the girl you keep sneaking out to see?” you heard an unfamiliar voice ask teasingly. 

You hear someone else sigh, “Yeah that’s the one.” Hope says, you know that voice anywhere, you dream of her voice.

“She’s pretty.” another voice chimes in.

“Yeah, but she’s normal. We’re not.” Hope says and she sounds disappointed. 

But you were confused. What does she mean that they’re not normal?

You finally sit up a little bit as your eyes flutter open. Hope is standing on the opposite side of the room with her arms crossed. There were two other girls standing there with her another brunette and a blonde. 

The three girls attention is caught when they notice you move. Hope immediately comes to your side and places herself onto the foot of your bed.

“Hey how are you feeling?” she asks.

“More confused than anything.” you respond and she chuckles softly.

“Yeah I bet you have loads of questions.” she says and you nod. 

“You’re lucky you didn’t wake up in a cell.” the blonde says with a giggle and your calm face immediately twists into fear.  Hope and the other brunette stare at her in disbelief, “That wasn’t the right time for a joke...got it.” she whispers. 

“I’m sorry about her, my sister can be a bit of an airhead sometimes.” the brunette says before getting closer to your bed and extending her hand out, “I’m Josie and this is my sister Lizzie.” 

You take your hand and shake it lightly, “Nice to meet you.” 

“And you. Hope talks about you all the time. That’s how we know you’re special.” Lizzie teases and you can see Hope blush, but she looks away before you can look her in the eye.

“We’ll leave you two to talk.” Josie says with a smile before waving. 

Hope places her hand on your cheek and she rubs your cheekbone with the pad of her thumb. Her eyes scan your face making sure that you’re okay. You have more things to worry about though. 

“What was the thing that attacked me?” you asked whispering, “How aren’t you guys normal?” 

She lets out a sigh removing your hand from her face, “That was a vampire. We’re at The Salvatore Boarding School, a place for special gifted people. Witches, vampires, and werewolves.” she says.

Your eyes widen and they feel like they’re about to pop out of your head. It felt like a roller coaster in your mind, but all you can ask was another question, “Why was he looking for you? What did you do?” 

“I didn’t do anything, my dad was a bad guy he hurt a lot of people. They look for my dad and when they find out you know he’s dead. They go after me because I’m the closest thing they can get to hurting him.” Hope says and you can tell that took a lot of her to say.

I mean it took you many many nights of her visiting and conversations that the two of you had to just learn her name. Probably learning about her being a supernatural being and that her dad is dead was probably last on her list. 

“Tomorrow they’re gonna erase your memory. Of all of this mess.” she says gesturing to the room and then she brushes a stray piece of hair out of your face.

Her hand lingers on her face for a second.

You tilt your head puzzled, “Wait will I forget you too?” 

She lets out a deep breath and smiles at you sadly before nodding, “Yes, you’ll forget me too.” 

“Why? I don’t want to forget you. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I really like you Hope. There’s not a moment in time where I don’t think about you.” you whisper taking a finger under chin and turning her to face you.

She stands up abruptly, “How do you think this will end Y/N? You almost died once because you were seen with me. I’m dangerous! I can hurt you! I can protect you all I want, but it’s not gonna be enough one day.” 

You can tell that she has been pondering this and fighting her herself with this for God knows how long. You slowly get out of bed a headache pounding from the night before. 

“It’s worth it Hope. You are worth it.” 

You crash your lips onto hers and she immediately kisses back. Like everything that she has been wanting, everything that she has been holding back from was finally coming out. It felt like fireworks, sparks flew in your head and you couldn’t help but feel a little dizzy because of it. 

She rested her forehead against yours, “I won't let them erase your memories. I’m going to try and protect you. I promise.” 

“I know you will Hope.”

You kiss her yet again and she smiles into the kiss widely. The door swings wide open. The two of you break apart as Josie and Lizzie walk in. 

“You know this is our room right? I don’t want you guys having sex on my bed!” Lizzie says and Hope laughs while you blush shyly. 

You hide your face into Hope’s neck and she plants a small kiss onto your forehead.

[amazingmaeve]

Like I would ↠ Draco Malfoy

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Draco Malfoy Masterlist

Summary: Y/N and Draco broke up months ago and Y/N thought it was because of his family but then he started seeing Pansy which made her angry and sad at him. So Y/N started talking to other guys which Draco doesn’t like.

Request: omgHII i love all ur draco fics!! theyre amazing. can i request a draco fic based on like i would by zayn, where fem!reader n draco broke up over than 4 months ago and some guy started hitting on her and they got close. when draco heard abt it he starts seducing her back to him n dirty talking his way into it. no pressure tho its okay if u wont take this request just lmk<3 have a great day x

Requested by: @beiahadid

Warnings: Smut (18+), a bit of angst only in the beginning

AN: Hopefully this is what you wanted I had fun writing it!

Word Count: 1.9k

Usually Y/N would be spending this time with her boyfriend, Draco. But he broke up with her a few months ago and has a thing going on with Pansy Parkinson.

Ever since then Y/N has been trying to figure out why he broke up with her. She first thought it was his parents but his mother seemed to love Y/N. His father didn’t really care so she assumed it wasn’t a problem.

Y/N asked him after a month of being broken up and Draco told her ‘I only wanted you for sex’. Which really upset Y/N.

Draco was Y/N’s first love and her first time which made it more and more heartbreaking.

And for a month Y/N dragged herself to classes and crying whenever she was alone or something reminded her of Draco. But Y/N’s roommate decided to do something about it.

Her friend, Daphne Greengrass, told her to get over him. At first Y/N decided against but a thought came to Y/N. This could make him jealous like the way he made her jealous.

Daphne at first thought Y/N should decide against it. But Y/N knew Draco would crack and it would be a sight to see.

So for the next month Y/N has been talking to a fellow Slytherin of hers, Blaise Zabini. At first he didn’t like Y/N’s flirting due to being Dracos friend but he warmed up to Y/N when she explained why she was doing it.

Blaise told Y/N that Draco really did love her but she ignored it not wanting to her about Draco.

So one night at a Slytherin party that Y/N got an invite to she decided to make it more apparent.

Everyone was around dancing, making out on the couch or talking to one another. Y/N was walking around wondering where Blaise was and saw him sitting on a chair drinking some fire whiskey.

Y/N smirked when she saw that Pansy was sitting on Dracos lap in a chair not far from Blaise. Y/N sauntered over to Blaise and sat on his lap receiving a surprised look from Blaise.

Y/N flipped her hair over her shoulder and smirked at Dracos reaction. She saw him in peripheral vision glaring at her while Pansy started to kiss his neck.

“What’re you doing here love,” Blaise asked putting one of his hands on Y/N’s hips.

“Wanted to congratulate you on the game,” Y/N whispered in his ear. The party was for a quidditch game they had with Gryffindor.

“Wasn’t all me,” Blaise muttered Y/N frowned when Draco leaned in to kiss Pansy.

“I know I just don’t think you get the appreciation you deserve,” Y/N bit her lip as her face was getting closer and closer to Blaises.

“Hmm is that what it is,” Blaise replied knowingly. He knew the game Y/N was playing.

“Yes,” Y/N closed the space between her and Blaise and kissed him. Blaise knew how much this meant to her so he kissed Y/N back.

Y/N moved her lips along with his as he squeezed her waist and she looked to see Draco with jealousy writing all over him.

Y/N smirked into the kiss as she took a breather before diving back as she grabbed his hand and brought it to her breast. Blaise was confused at first but eventually starting groping and squeezing her as she let out moans into the kiss.

Y/N felt someone tugging herself off Blaises lap and when she stood up she saw Draco standing there with an angry expression on his face.

“What’s wrong Draco,” Y/N asked innocently.

Instead of responding Draco grabbed her hand dragging her to his room which she knew all to well.

“What do you want Draco,” Y/N snapped as she tugged her arm away from the angry boy.

“What do you think you were doing,” Draco snarled his face full of anger as he stared at the girl.

“I’m only doing what you were doing,” Y/N told him referring to Pansy. “You flaunt your relationship with Pansy so I thought I might move on since you don’t wanna pleasure me anymore,” She shrugged.

“You think he can do what I can do,” Draco smirked as he closed the gap between him and Y/N. Draco put his hands on her waist.

“I dunno he seemed to be doing pretty fine,” Y/N noted as his fingers went up and down her dress she was wearing. Y/N couldn’t deny that she could feel herself get more and more wet.

“Hmmm,” Draco hummed as he put his fingers under the dress trailing his fingers along her thighs. “Don’t sounds to sure of yourself love,” He whispered in her ear as he kissed her neck.

“What do you want Draco,” Y/N whispered as his fingers trailed over her panties. It was pretty dark in the room so she couldn’t see him which made the anticipation even more exciting.

“To prove I’m the only one who knows how to please you,” Draco bit her ear lobe as he started to rub her clit over the panties.

Y/N let out a moan as he rubbed hard and long strokes over her clit. She hasn’t been touched like this since the last time Dracos touched her.

Draco removed his hand which made Y/N let out a whine of disappointment. He pulled her to the couch and laid her down and kissed her.

Draco used his hand to pull her dress to her stomach as Draco kept kissing her. Y/N kissed him back as his tongue entered her mouth.

While distracting her with his tongue as Draco moved his mouth to her neck, his fingers danced along her panties and pulled them off then she noticed. Y/N helped him as he threw the soaked panties across the room.

Y/N let out moans as Draco sucked on her neck creating hickeys. His fingers danced to her pussy where Y/N could feel her self getting more and more wet.

Draco squeezes her thigh as his thumb draws a figure eights in her clit. His movements were light and fast.

As his face was buried in her neck Y/N lets out moans as his fingers kept pleasing her.

“Do you think he can do this,” Draco whispered in her ear. For a while it was quiet besides her moans and the wet noise he made while rubbing her clit.

“W-what,” Y/N asked breathlessly as his thumb kept going on her clit.

“Would he be able to please you like this,” Draco repeated his thumb halting as he had to repeat the question.

“Draco please,” Y/N whined bucking her hips trying to get some friction her clit.

“Answer the question,” Draco demanded as Y/N’s pussy throbs without Dracos hands on her.

“No,” Y/N whispers answering his questions which makes Draco smirks.

“Good girl,” Draco praises Y/N as he moves down her body and kisses the inside of her thigh as the moans return.

Dracos tongue darts to lick at her clit making her let out a loud moan as she grasps the couch in pleasure. Draco continues to lap at her swollen clit.

“Draco,” Y/N moans out as her fingers grasp his hair in pleasure.

Draco brings his hand to her pussy entrance and circles the wet hole with his middle and index finger entering.

“God,” Y/N moans as Draco slams his fingers in and out of her pussy. He curls his fingers to her g spot making Y/N moan louder.

His fingers rub her g spot as his tongue suck and pull at her clit.

Draco removes his mouth through her clit and looks up at Y/N. She looks so gorgeous when he pleasures he thinks to himself.

Y/N’s are closed as she arched her back in pleasure.

“Tell me how it feels,” Draco asks as his breath hits her clit making her whine. He stops his fingers when she doesn’t answer him.

“Yes it feels so good please don’t stop,” Y/N answers pleading as she tries to ride his fingers.

“Better than Blaise would’ve been,” Draco asks curling his fingers hitting her g spot wanting an answer.

“Definitely,” Y/N answers him.

Dracos mouth returns to her clit sucking at this time as his fingers slam in and out of her.

Y/N closes her eyes and tugs on his hair as she feels her orgasm about to come. Y/N clenched around his fingers and he knew she was going to cum around his fingers any minute.

“Cum Y/N,” Draco demands against her clit. Y/N lets out one loud moan as she cums on his fingers. Y/N feels herself twitching and saw starts when she finally came.

“Feel better love,” Draco teases by cleaning up some of her cum which makes Y/N whine. He climbs up jet body and finally reaches her face where he can kiss her.

“Definitely a stress reliever,” Y/N laughs as Draco smirks against her neck.

Y/N could feel Dracos boner against her thigh as he kisses her neck. She reaches for his belt and unbutton his pants starting to feel herself get more wet.

“You sure you want to love,” Draco asks as he puts his hands on hers.

“Yes Draco I want you to fuck me please,” Y/N begs as she rubs herself against his boner. Draco takes a sharp inhale of breath as feels himself get harder and harder.

Draco pulls his shirt pants and boxers off as Y/N works to get her dress off. She didn’t need to worry about a bra since she didn’t wear one.

Draco uses his hand to drag his cock along her wet folds and rubs the tip against her clit. Y/N lets out a whimper as he rubs against the swollen nub.

“You want me,” Draco asks with a teasing smirk. Y/N nods and Draco says “Beg.”

“Draco please fuck me,” Y/N starts to beg as she bucks her hips up go get friction. “I’ve missed you and your cock so much please Draco,” Y/N whimpers.

Draco brings his cock to her entrance as he slams into her making her cry out. He holds her hips down as he continues to fuck her.

Y/N cries out as he hits her g spot making her clench harder then before which makes Draco let out a groan.

“I’ve missed your pussy love,” Draco pants in her ear as he continues to pull out of her and slam back in making moan every time.

Draco drags his thumb to her clit to rub the nub and when does Y/N moans really loud.

“Draco,” Y/N moans arching her back into his chest bucking her hips up to his trying to meet his thrusts.

“You gonna cum for me love,” Draco continues to thrust into her still hitting her g spot while his fingers rub fast circles on her clit.

“Yes oh god please,” Y/N whimpers as he fastens his pace.

“Cum, cum all over my cock,” Draco encourages her and with one swipe to her clit and one thrust to her g spots makes her see stars as she clenches and moans loudly.

Draco moans she clenches around him making let his load into her.

“That was good wasn’t it,” Draco asks as he brushes hair out of her face.

“Very good.”

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Lost Boys: Take-Out Intrigue Part 2

Part One | Part Two 

Marko x Reader

Word Count: 2,524

Summary: A requested continuation of this idea. Reader runs into Marko a few weeks later and is convinced to go on a late night rendezvous. 

There were few moments in life as sweet as when you had just finished a shift.

You got along with your co-workers and the owners were good to you. The job itself wasn’t too bad outside of the occasional snotty customer. But after being on your feet, your body was grateful to go home and just sit.

“Be careful, huh? They still haven’t found that guy,” your boss cautioned as she locked up behind the both of you.

That gave you pause.

Two weeks ago, the cops had come in on official business. Yet another missing person’s case in Santa Carla except this time, the last any one had seen of the victim was outside the restaurant. There were no leads which had the workers spooked, especially since it happened nearby.

Some insisted that he had been in an accident, that he would turn up sooner or later. Others maintained that he must be a criminal himself—why else would’ve he been out so late? 

And a third group of co-workers were bold enough to come out and say he was probably long dead, the victim of a killer. You agreed with them. 

Whatever the case, everyone was more cautious when leaving after the late shift.

Most of your shifts were still in the day but after seeing that beautiful boy on a random nightshift you’d taken on a whim and started signing up for more in hopes of seeing him again. He hadn’t come back yet.

You reassured her as you zipped up your jacket. “Thank you, auntie. I promise to be careful.”

Passing a critical eye over you, she started chiding you about dressing smarter—what kind of fool wore a nylon jacket in these temperatures. You took it without complaint, knowing the nagging was how she showed that she cared.

Her husband, the other owner, was already waiting in their car and the last thing she told you as she got in was, “There’s eight in that bag. Share with everyone at home.”

You held the bag containing a pile of smooth, fluffy buns reverently against your chest.

It wasn’t often that she brought food from home to give to employees but when she did, it was always delicious. The bao was a big favorite of yours.

“Thank you. I will,” you said with a dip of your head.

They drove off and you head down to your own car. Alone on the sidewalk, you juggled everything in your arms to fish out your keys, taking great care not to squish the bao. It was a particularly quiet that night which put you on guard, your eyes darting around trying to peer into the darkness.

Every shadow was suspicious, the corners of buildings a potential hiding spot for a psycho laying in wait. There was also an alleyway you had to pass by that made you extra wary. You darted past it, careful to keep it in your line of limited vision.

Santa Carla was a shifty town, especially after dark, and you’d rather be paranoid instead of caught off guard.

The jingle of your car keys was almost obvious disrupter in the otherwise silent street as you unlocked the car. Your textbooks were demoted to the floor of the passenger seat, the bag of bao riding shot gun in the actual seat. 

For a spilt second, you thought about buckling it in but quickly dismissed it; the seat belt could crush them.

You slammed the door shut when you felt it. A cold shudder on the back of your neck. The kind of anxious realization that you were being watched.

Your head swiveled this way and that, trying to find the source of your unease but the darkness too much of a handicap. It was times like this when you were reminded just how badly lit the street was.

There were no detectible sounds either. You strained to pick up the slightest movement and only heard the rush of adrenaline in your ears.

Desperate to keep your wits about you, you took a deep breath and walked as calmly as you could to the driver’s side. You gripped the car keys tightly, in case you needed to stab someone, ignoring the tremors in your hands. Nothing happened, yet the feeling of being watched remained and you hoped that it’d be okay once you got in the car.

You reached for the handle and thought you were safe when it intensified. There was no warning before a cold hand rested on your hip, the chill cutting through your jacket.

You screamed with everything in you and whirled around, arm poised to gouge out the creep’s eyes.

The other person effortlessly batted your attack away and you recognized belatedly that those distinct curls were familiar. The fight drained out of you with one big gasp of air. “You.”

He smiled excitedly, like he hadn’t just scared the shit out of you. He spun your keys, the key ring looped around his finger. You didn’t remember them leaving your hold.

“Nice jab,” he complimented.

“Yeah,” you stammered, hand over your pounding heart. It was eerie how he snuck up on you like that, even when you were on full guard.

“You didn’t hesitate.” The spinning stopped and he offered you the keys. He leaned in close stopping just shy of invading your personal space. “You have a fighter’s instinct.”

“Only when people sneak up on me.”

He rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry about that.”

His voice was perfectly sincere but your intuition didn’t trust him. It told you that he had liked scaring you.

The customer was just how you remembered him from the one time you took his order. Patched jacket and leather chaps and a cherubic face. The flawless face was a harsh reminder that you hadn’t been able to land a single scratch on him.

“We didn’t introduce ourselves last time,” you frowned. “What’s your name?”

He bit his thumb, the paleness of it standing in stark contrast with the dark leather of his fingerless glove even in the dim light. “Marko.” Hmm. It suited him, you decided. “And you’re Y/N.

You stood up a little straighter, uneasy. You were sure that you hadn’t said your name last time—you never introduced yourself to customers.

Once again, he stole the words out of your mouth. “It was on the name tag.”

Oh. You’d forgotten about the raised rectangular underneath your jacket. The name tag. “Sorry. I’m still a little spooked from what just happened.”

“Never took you for a screamer,” he teased. Heat exploded in your face and the night hid how he focused on the small bird shaped pin on the lapel of your jacket.  

He was more mischievous and you wished for the ease of conversation from his other visit. Was this truer to his actual personality? Normally, you’d wouldn’t have minded either way but you couldn’t ignore the weirdness of this encounter.

Your goal was to leave as soon as possible. Either he didn’t pick up on that, or he did and just didn’t care because next thing you knew, he was inviting you to hang out at a park a couple of blocks away. And he didn’t mean tomorrow or next week, he meant right then.

Your resistance was instinctive and the excuse that you needed to go home and get some sleep was both a truth and a lie.

He crowded you against the car, finally crossing into your personal space. You made the mistake of glancing into his eyes and found you couldn’t turn away. The longer you looked, the more you swore that a predatory yellow glowed from his irises.

Human eyes didn’t even come in that color! You were going crazy.

“I think you should come.” His soft tone didn’t match the determined posture. “You’ll have fun.”

You struggled internally but he started to sound reasonable. Forget the fact that this was something you knew better than to do. You really wanted to keep talking with him and an inner voice reminded you that you had been waiting for him to return…This was your chance.

“Okay,” you smiled. The previous reservations evaporated from your mind and all you could think about was the excitement.  

The two of you drove to the park, him on his motorcycle and you in your car. All of the benches empty and ready for the taking. There a few by the basketball courts and there were tons of streetlights in that direction so you went there.

Sitting down, you were finally able to see him clearly. The park used white bulbs in their lights which was an upgrade from the orange ones lining the streets.

“Here.” You handed him one of the buns that you brought with from the car. “It’s char siu bao.”

He lit up. “Whoa! I didn’t know you guys sold this. Is it a secret menu item?”

You laughed, spitting out mashed-up bits of food. Still chuckling, you made sure to swallow and then answered. “Nope, there’s not a secret menu. Not one that I know about any way. Sometimes the owners bring in food to share with us and they made bao this time.”

The first bite had him moaning obscenely. The rest of it was scarfed down quickly and he patted his stomach appreciatively, his cut-off tank riding up to expose more of his skin.

“Damn. That was orgasm by BBQ pork bun. Your angel for giving me some.”

For the second time that night, heat spread across your face and you kept your eyes trained away. His boldness was flattering. How could you have been scared of him earlier? It seemed ridiculous right then.

“So,” he continued, “I couldn’t help but notice the eyesore hanging from your rear-view mirror.”

“It’s not an eyesore. It took me a whole week to make that.”

That impressed him. “Really. You make a lot of things yourself?”

It launched a whole conversation about your latest creative projects. What kind of materials you liked to work with, where you got your supplies, and if you would show them to him sometime.

Marko talked about his as well. He mostly dabbled in clothing projects, like his jacket, and painting although he worked with shells and wood a lot, too. If the extraordinary patch work on the jacket was any indicator, he was seriously talented.

Sensing an opportunity, you proposed that you would show him your stuff, only if he showed you his.

“You’ll have to be specific what of mine you want to see,” he said with a wink.

“The projects, Marko. I mean the projects,” you sassed. It was becoming easier to respond to his quips.

He gestured further down where some patches of spray paint were visible on the concrete ground. “I can show you some now, if you want.”

Your brows shot up. He did say he did all kinds of painting, but he spray painted too? Curious, you didn’t wait for him as you went to go take a peek.

People tagged all over Santa Carla these days, normally on buildings or signs. Never had you seen it left up in a public park and on the ground, no less. A lot of residents complained about what they saw as trashy graffiti, but you thought that was a conservative view. Some it was actually quite good, the talent of the artists undeniable.

The five slabs of park sidewalk examples of good pieces. There were styles that differed from bubbly word font to intricate cartoon characters and it was apparent that many people had worked on this.

You examined them critically, trying to find which was Marko’s based on your limited knowledge.

The bubbly font was too soft for him. The animated turtle with a bandana and nun-chucks, certainly a comic book figure, didn’t seem like him either. Then you spotted a stylized skull with a bird placed in each eye socket, an aggressively written ‘anarchy’ running down the side length of it.

The pin was a reminder on your chest and you knew that it was his.

“Aww, how’d you guess?”

“A little birdy told me,” you said, softly touching the image. What really stood out was the high-level shading he incorporated. The cheeks appeared wicked sharp and the eye sockets had realistic depth to them. You couldn’t believe he managed those techniques with simply spray paint.

Marko crouched in front of you, watching you intently. Your scent and admiration irresistible to him.  

Neither of you spoke as he leaned ever closer. Unlike earlier, the quiet wasn’t scary and you felt anticipation. Right at the moment he his lips would’ve touched yours, there was a big rustle in the bushes to your left.

Both of you froze. You in alarm and Marko in annoyance.

Next thing you knew, another blonde rolled out from the foliage and bowled Marko over. The curly haired boy was quick to shove the other off of him and you were sure what was happening.

Until the new comer with his fluffed hair patted Marko affectionately on the shoulder, the chain attached to his black coat clinking. That was a familiar touch. “Marko!”

“Get your fat ass off me, Paul” he grumbled.

Paul dusted himself off and peered behind at his butt “I knew these pants looked good on me.”

Marko wasn’t having it. “Yeah, yeah. Why are you here?”

“You abandoned me, bud. I was gunna see if you wanted to feed but looks like you’re already occupied.” He turned his brilliant smile towards you and all you managed was wave awkwardly.

“This is Y/N,” Marko explained. “We were just talking.”

“Sure,” Paul said dragging out the r and flagrantly winking. Yikes, he would’ve gotten a show if he had waited a second more to reveal himself.

“Well now that you barged in, I suppose we should meet back up with the other two.”

Paul nodded and ran off into the darkness without any further explanation.

You stood up as well trying to salvage your dignity. Despite moving in for a kiss minutes ago, Marko didn’t try again. He walked backwards in the same direction Paul had left in, wearing his signature smirk.

“I’ll stop by for take-out soon. Surprise me with something yummy.” With one last cheeky wave, he jogged away.

At the moment he disappeared, it was as if a fog had cleared. All of your alarms came rushing back. You must be crazy for having agreed to come to the park!

Who in their right mind went somewhere with a stranger in the dead of night with a killer on the lose?

Were you that weak for a pretty face that all it took was them asking you nicely? Yes, your time with him hadn’t been horrible, actually, you enjoyed it, but something still wasn’t right.

You trudged to your car, kicking yourself. If he came to the restaurant like he claimed, you’d have to put your foot down more. Stupid decisions got people killed in Santa Carla and you were determined not to be another missing person.

Even for a face like Marko’s.

_______________

Bao is so so good! I can’t tell if I have a good handle on writing Marko yet. Yes, the missing person is the one he offed last time and yes, he did use mind powers on the reader here. 

Thanks for reading :)

[sweetmidnights]

Love While You Can-- Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

Summary: Part 2 of Always Starting Over. After running into your-dead-wife-lookalike in a Parisian café, you flee and don’t know what to do with yourself. What happens if that woman tracks you down and it actually is Emily?

Warnings: some nsfw content in the middle

Words: 6.5k

AO3

Part 1

The restaurant you found was quaint and you ordered in broken French. Emily had only been able to teach you so much but you knew enough to get by. Across the street was a cafe that had a tolerable line and you quickly walked across lanes and got in line behind a woman who was taller than you. After a few minutes of the line creeping closer to the register, you noticed her cellphone fall from the pocket of her pants.

You reached out to grab the phone that had slipped and tapped her on the shoulder. As she spun around to address you, your breath caught in your throat mid-greeting and tears pricked at your eyes and your entire world started to spin.

“Hi… Emily?”

No one could have prepared you for what it felt like to be flung from the world as it came skidding to a stop. Standing in this small French cafe, your ears began to ring as your blood pressure spiked, feeling as though someone had punched you in the stomach and knocked the breath from your lungs. As your eyes began to water, you noticed dark hair devoid of its signature bangs, the slope of a pointy nose, and unmistakable umber eyes widened in surprise. It felt like someone had caught your head between a pair of cymbals as they crashed together, shaking your body to the core.

Taking some small steps backward, your entire body trembled as you brought a hand to your mouth, the forgotten cellphone clattering to the floor. This couldn’t be her. You buried your wife seven months ago. You turned away from the woman and ran, feeling suffocated and desperate for fresh air. Your lungs began to heave as you fled the cafe, fingers clawing at your chest while you ran. Down the block you found a park and slid to the ground against a tree, pushing your head between your knees and pulling gently at your hair as you cried. A mantra looped in your head, Emily is dead, you’re okay. Emily is dead, you’re okay.

As your breathing slowed, you sat up a little straighter, watching as some kids ran after a frisbee on the lawn. It was then you felt someone sit down next to you on the ground so you turned away, furiously swiping at your cheeks so that the stranger wouldn’t see that you had been crying. You heard the stranger clear their voice and with a final swipe at your cheeks, you turned to face them.

What you saw next to you was the woman from whom you had just fled and you felt the tears well up in your eyes. You moved to stand but the woman stopped you with a hand on your arm, adorned with the rings you had placed on them exactly one year ago. You once again began to tremble, tears falling furiously down your cheeks.

“No,” you cried into the air. “No, no, this isn’t happening.”

Your name slipped from her lips, reverent and pleading. With that one word, you collapsed into her arms, burying your head in her neck.

“Emily.”

You didn't know how many days had passed since you sat in the cold waiting room of a hospital in a city you didn't know and your whole world was ripped away from you. Penelope and Morgan had taken you home and tucked you into your bed where you laid awake, catatonic until the sun rose again. Sergio came to lay on your chest and that was where he had stayed, day in and day out as you barely managed to breathe.

The boys all took their spots, one strong hand gripped on the metal bars lining your wife’s casket, the other swinging gently at their sides. You walked close behind, Penelope and JJ flanking you on either side. The fabric of your black dress scratched against your knees and your shoes sunk into the grass as you followed along the path set before you. The sun was shining bright and you couldn’t help but think to yourself, of course there isn’t a cloud in the sky on the day I lose my wife forever.

The funeral itself had been a long affair. Elizabeth Prentiss had insisted that Emily be laid to rest with a full Catholic service and you couldn’t find the motivation to tell her that Emily would rather be given a lap dance by a sweaty, smelly man than have anything to do with the Catholic church. Dozens and dozens of people you didn’t know shook your hand and offered their condolences. You couldn’t really understand why someone who didn’t know you or your wife would come and grieve her loss just to uphold their stature as politicians. Your best friend never left your side through the whole thing and ushered you away from the crowds when everything became too much.

The boys placed Emily’s casket on the metal contraption that would be used to lower her into the ground. Everyone gathered around with a single red rose clutched in their hands. The priest did not follow you to the cemetery at JJ’s behest, she knew that Emily would have wanted this to be a familial affair and could see the relief in your eyes when comforting faces were the ones that offered final words. You were able to hold yourself together until Spencer stood in front of the crowd unexpectedly to speak.

“Emily and I spent a lot of time together talking about books and foreign films. I have an eidetic memory, so I remember every word of everything we shared with one another. Not too long ago, I found her scrolling on a poetry website, trying to find one that she once read in a book she gave to her wife. Her face was a little red and her breathing shallow and before she could hide it away from me, I saw this poem and I want to share it with you today.”

Spencer looked at you before he began to recite the words he knew you needed to hear.

“If tomorrow starts without me and I’m not here to see,

If the sun should rise you find your eyes all filled with tears for me;

I wish so much you wouldn’t cry the way you did today,

While thinking of the many things we didn’t get to say

I know how much you love me, as much as I love you

And each time that you think of me, I know you’ll miss me, too.

I had so much to live for, so much left yet to do.

It seemed almost impossible that I was leaving you.

But then I fully realized that this could never be,

For emptiness and memories would take the place of me.

So when tomorrow starts without me, don’t think we’re far apart,

For every time you think of me, I’m right here in your heart.”

Not even two lines into the poem you began to cry and by the end, gut-wrenching sobs were shaking your body. Penelope and JJ each wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you steady. Your knees began to shake, and your head began to spin in wild circles as you thought of all the things you and Emily would never get to do.

She would never take you to Europe and show you where she grew up. She would never get to read the pamphlets on LGBTQ+ adoption that you picked up one day on your way home from the gynecologist. You would never get to dance with her under the light of the stars, giggling boisterously as you crept closer and closer to the edge of the lake where your childhood home sat.

You would never hear her laugh again.

You didn’t know why that particular thought was the one that send you spiraling. Black shadows crept in the edges of your vision as you fought desperately to stay in the moment. You could see in front of you your hands as you placed the first rose onto the box of wood holding what was left of your wife. The world went silent as everyone filtered away and only you were left with the BAU team to watch as Emily was slowly lowered into the ground.

You didn’t know if you would ever be able to get back up.

You didn’t know how long you sat in Emily’s arms and cried, her hand soothing up and down your back and her shoulders gently shaking. Long fingers tangled in your hair as she murmured in your ear.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” she repeated like a mantra. When you pulled back, you were met with pink, puffy eyes and flushed cheeks. You took her in, really took her in. There your dead wife was, alive and breathing, holding you in her arms. With a gentle tug, you freed your right hand and slowly traced your fingers on her face, ghosting over her cheekbones that glistened with gentle and slow tears, down the slope of her nose, and onto her lips where you could feel her unsteady breath puff from her nose.

When you finally dared meet her eyes, a question fell from your lips. “How?”

Emily reached up to grasp the hand touching her lip, “Take me to where you’re staying, I will explain everything.”

Still in shock, you let her guide you with a hand on your back to the hotel, instinctively knowing that you would have chosen to stay at the same place you had talked about all that time ago. The ride in the elevator was completely silent and as you approached the door. Your hands were shaking so hard that you couldn’t get it open. Emily reached around you, grabbing the access card and swiping into the room.

A gentle push on the small of your back guided you to the bed and you sat, shifting slightly away from Emily as she joined you. A long silence stretched between the two of you, only broken when you noticed your wife stretch her hand to reach for you but quickly pull it back before she could touch.

“I-- I don’t understand.” You watched your hands as you anxiously clasped your fingers together and rubbed your thumb against your palm. Emily sniffled a little, neither of you able to stop emotions from running rampant through your bodies. Now that the initial shock was starting to wear off, you could feel the anger and hurt bubbling in your chest.

“Y/N, I am so sorry--” Emily began before you quickly cut her off.

“I know, you’ve already said that, Em.” Giving some grace, you looked up from the floor to look at Emily. She seemed to melt, ever so slightly, tension minutely releasing from her jaw. She sucked her lip between her teeth before giving a harsh exhale and fidgeting with her thumbs. The guilt and regret were palpable in the air as her eyes bore into you.

“After I made it out of surgery alive, Hotch made the decision that I needed to be relocated to keep all of us safe. Once I was stable, I was airlifted to Bethesda and stayed there under an alias until I was able to fly out of the country. I flew with JJ here to Paris and she gave me three different identities and enough money to keep me afloat. They needed to fake my death so that Doyle wouldn’t come after the team, wouldn’t come after you.”

You took in the information, overwhelmed by what she was telling you. Your mind was swirling with a hundred questions and thoughts, barely able to slow down enough to comprehend what was going on.

“Hotch knew? JJ knew?” Your words were slow, lilted with disbelief as you found a particular thread in your shirt very interesting, trying your hardest to keep your composure though your heart was hammering from your chest. You screwed your eyes shut and wound your hands tightly into your top.

“Yes.” Emily’s response was simple and tense, almost expecting an explosive response. Instead, you looked back at your wife with watery eyes, a quivering lip, and heartbreak.

“Why-- why didn’t they tell me,” you pleaded as you bit back a sob, feeling betrayed by the only family you had ever really known, ever grown to trust. Your arms started to wrap around your torso as you curled in on yourself, feeling the hurt as it radiated through your bones. “I’m your wife, Emily, why didn’t they tell me!” The words fell from your mouth like it was poison oozing from your veins, fingernails clawing at your sides as you desperately tried to hold yourself together.

Emily’s heart tore out of her chest as she watched you crumble. Not able to restrain herself anymore, she reached out to wrap one arm around your back, pulling you into her side, and used her free hand to gently wipe at your face.

“I’m so sorry, my love. They didn’t have a choice, please, please believe me. None of us wanted this to happen but Doyle and his men are smart. They couldn’t fake your death, too, without tipping him off.”

Her words did very little to soothe your ache, but you were starting to understand. You let yourself relax into her embrace, placing your head on her shoulder. Even with the conflicting feelings racing through your mind, your wife’s presence was just as calming as it ever was.

You sniffled a little as you subconsciously rubbed your head on the shoulder of Emily's blouse at the same time causing you both to freeze. You could feel a slight rumble in her chest as you started to silently giggle. Moving back just a little, you noticed a tiny mark on her shoulder where your head was, obviously caused by tears, but it made you break into a peal of uncontrollable laughter. You gently smacked your hand against Emily's chest and noticed as her face turned from a grimace to barely contained giggles to a euphoric cackle that made her eyes shine in the way that you had missed so much. The two of you laughed until your stomachs hurt, finding catharsis in the absurdity of the situation you had found yourselves in.

When you finally got a good look at Emily, you noticed the dark bags under her eyes. As she sobered from the laughter, you could see the fear and grief swimming in her expression. With a slow, careful motion, you cupped her cheek and for the first time in seven months, you saw the love you had desperately ached for. As you leaned forward, she met you halfway to connect your lips. Emily reached to tangle her fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling you tightly against her body. You melted into her as your lips and tongues reunited in a dance they had perfected long ago. Her lips were soft and plush but you could feel the little worry lines on the bottom that perfectly matched her front teeth. The kiss was sensual, conveying the emotion neither of you could verbalize.

Emily pulled away first, taking a deep breath and pressing her forehead against your own. Her eyes remained shut as she breathed you in; you could only imagine that this was nearly as surreal to her as it was to you. As upset as you were with her disappearance, you knew that Emily couldn’t have had an easy time while she was gone. Though you were still alive, you had been effectively removed from her life just as she had been yours.

“I’ve missed you so much.” Her voice was quiet, almost timid, a tone that was foreign coming from your wife. Your heart ached for this woman, knowing her past of never being on the receiving end of lasting, unconditional love. Emily was so afraid that her betrayal would ruin everything, that she would lose you forever.

“Look at me, Emily.” She slowly lifted her head and opened her eyes to look at you. “I love you.” You grabbed both of her hands in yours as she floundered for words.

“We have a lot we need to talk about, I’m still hurting and angry as hell, but I love you so much, Emily. You’re my wife and I trust that every decision has been made to keep you safe. I know you haven’t hurt me on purpose.”

Relief rolled off of Emily’s shoulders in waves, her posture returning to that of the confident, resilient woman you fell in love with. “I love you, too. So much.” You fell back into each other, this time simply holding each other as you breathed in and out, sliding the missing pieces of yourselves back into the other. Not long after, you slowly and thoroughly kissed, drinking each other in with tenderness, reveling in the intimacy of being in your wife’s arms.

The gentle touches were soon not enough and you shifted to straddle Emily’s lap, her hands instinctively wrapping around your waist and pulling you in close. Your hands pushed into her hair, twisting tightly like you’re afraid that if you let go she will disappear from underneath you. Emily was the first to break the kiss, looking deep into your eyes as her heavy breathing filled the silence between you. She was searching for something and you gave it to her.

“Make love to me, Emily.”

She carefully flipped you onto your back, your head resting on the pile of pillows stacked against the headboard. Emily leaned down gently and pressed a soft kiss to your lips and then across your cheek and to your forehead, her lips barely grazing the skin as if she was afraid you would shatter beneath her touch. You reached up and cradled her jaw, pulling her back to your lips for a tender kiss, pressing insistently, begging for more. Taking your cue, you felt warm hands travel under your blouse, reaching around you to unfasten your bra. Strong arms pulled gently at your waist, helping you to sit and pull the garments over your head.

Your head tipped back as she started to kiss down your neck, leaving a mark on your collarbone. Teeth nipped sharply on your soft skin and lips soothed away each fleeting ache. Hands started to massage your breasts, fingers rolling and tugging at your nipples. When Emily’s warm mouth kissed its way around your breast and wrapped around a nipple, you tangled a hand in her hair and used the other to gently cover the hand still massaging your chest. It wasn’t to halt her movements but to keep the connection you desperately needed with the woman who had become the center of your universe.

A tear slipped down your cheek, falling onto your joined hands. She leaned back, looking to your face and she wiped the tear away with her thumb.

“I’m here, love. I’m not going anywhere.”

Emily kissed you once more and you tugged her shirt out of her pants, quickly pulling it over her head. She was wearing a simple black bra and you could see a clover-shaped scar just above the cup. You gasped as your fingers trailed along the scar on her abdomen, feeling the way the skin puckered in lines of pale pink and white. You couldn’t believe just how close you had come to losing her and that after all of these months she was there, sitting in your lap. Your wife looked apprehensive and almost shy under your gaze and you moved to kiss the four-leafed mark.

“You’re beautiful, Emily.” You freed her from the black fabric and immediately sucked a rosy nipple into your mouth, humming when you felt her hands fall on your shoulders. A gasp fell from her lips with a sharp nip, your tongue immediately soothing the sting. Emily pushed you back onto the bed and undid your pants, pulling them and your panties off, exposing your glistening core.

Before Emily could move, you reached to release her off-center belt from its confines. Smirking at you, Emily quickly hopped off the bed and took the rest of her clothes off before lying parallel to you and hooking a leg over your body to rest in the apex of your thighs. Hands smoothed over soft skin, grabbing and caressing each other in the way only lovers do. Emily’s leg slowly began to press into you before she pulled herself to straddle your thigh.

Long fingers stretched down your belly and circled around your lower lips, teasing until you began to move your hips into her touch.

“Emily, please.” The words were barely out of your mouth when a single finger trailed from your opening to your clit and you gasped, pressing into the touch.

As Emily pulled juices from your core and massaged soft circles on your clit, she started to grind on your thigh and you could feel just how wet she was as she dripped onto your skin. Her motions became firmer and faster with every moan that slipped from your lips and you pulled her down gently by her hair to kiss her desperately. Her free hand moved to brace herself next to your head as your breasts brushed against one another and warmth radiated between your bodies.

After a while of hot breaths and wet kisses, you slipped your free hand from her chest to where she was grinding on your thigh, using your finger to bring her closer to the edge. Simultaneously, you both gently pushed a finger inside, and you moaned into her mouth as she gasped your name.

“More, baby, more.” You slipped a second finger inside and used your thumb to rub against her clit. Emily rode your fingers as she pumped and curled her fingers inside you, expertly stroking the rough patch that made your hips buck wildly.

Together you both rode to climax, you falling first with Emily soon after, her teeth clenching onto your shoulder with a grunt as her hips stuttered above you. She collapsed onto you, wiping her hand on the sheet before wrapping herself tightly around you. You could feel hot tears on your cheeks and where her face was pressed into your neck.

You murmured soothing words into Emily’s hair and trailed your hands up and down her back, occasionally using your fingers to comb raven hair out of your face. Before long, her breathing evened out to a steady in-and-out and you thought that she had fallen asleep. Your mind began to wander as you counted the freckles on her pale back, recommitting them to your memory. Here, in your arms, laid the woman you buried seven months ago. You had spent the last seven months wandering aimlessly through the world, not quite able to see it in full color. Sounds were muffled and laughs were hollow, the edges of your vision blurred, and you spent more time in your own head than out. Even though the woman that haunted you was now alive, the fog wasn't clearing from your mind. Emily had come back from the dead, a true miracle, but nothing felt better. You were so incredibly happy to have her back but true to form, your heart couldn't unbreak itself.

“What are you thinking about, baby?”

Emily’s voice startled you and you wiped at some stray tears that you didn’t know had been falling. “I—”, your voice cracked and you tried to clear your throat of the thick emotion you felt, “Nothing, Em. It’s nothing.”

Emily lifted her head off of your chest and looked at your face, frowning when she saw your flushed cheeks and glistening eyelashes. You could tell that whatever she saw had upset her, so you rubbed the back of your fingers against her cheek, smiling when she nuzzled into your touch. “I’m just so happy to have you back. It’s surreal.”

If she didn’t quite believe you, the only hint as to that was that Emily’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly before she turned her head to kiss your hand and fell next to you so that she could stroke your sides while you laid together.

“Is there anything you want to do today, honey?” Emily’s voice was smooth and resonated deep in her chest, a sound you had missed dearly in your time apart.

“Besides this?” You both giggled. “Well, as much as I have enjoyed my handful of hours here, I would be interested in seeing where you have staying been all this time. Maybe get some dinner. I’m pretty overwhelmed still and I don’t think I could handle much more than that.”

Emily nodded against the pillow under her head, “Yeah, we can do that, love. It would be nice to have you in my space, for however long that is.”

You noticed the wistful look in her eyes but decided to let it go, Emily was here, now, in your arms and you didn’t want to even think about the possibility of her not being there. She trailed a finger lazily around your breast, circling a nipple and sliding down to trace patterns on your stomach. The intimate familiarity of your wife’s unconscious touch warmed your heart. You had grown so used to the way that Emily’s hands constantly drifted to you that when it was gone, you ached for it.

Her love language was physical touch and at the beginning of your relationship, it overwhelmed you. Whenever you were together, a hand was always pressed to your back or a leg was always pressed against yours. She would lock her pinky with yours while you walked and play with your hair without even thinking. After a while, though, you craved her touch nearly as much she craved to touch.

“Would it be okay if we took my things there? I… I don’t want to be without you.” Your voice was small, afraid that she would say no. The thought of leaving Emily for just one hour was terrifying, let alone overnight. You were afraid that if you let her out of sight she would vanish into thin air.

Emily must have heard the implied message in your words because she stretched to press a long kiss to your lips. “We can be wherever you want to be, baby. I would love to have you.”

Emily’s apartment wasn’t far from the hotel you had been staying at. It was nestled at the top of a tall building and while smaller than the one you shared in DC, it was just as elegant. Cream-colored curtains framed the large windows looking out at the city and neutral-colored furniture covered the open-plan floors. You set your bags on the floor and wrapped your arms around yourself, wandering to the window to take a look.

Emily set the bag of takeout on the kitchen table with a crinkle of paper and quickly came to stand behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and pressing her nose into your hair. You stood like that for just a few minutes, breathing together and not saying a word. Emily pulled away first but grasped your hand, pulling you with her to the table.

Emily served the food quickly, knowing exactly how much of what you would want without needing to ask. She chattered anxiously about something you weren't quite paying attention to and when she set the plate in front of you, you jumped.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. It wasn’t fair that you weren’t just through the moon to be back with your wife, but you still felt deeply entrenched in the dissociative state you had meandered in and out of for the better part of seven months.

“I will be.” You shrugged but gave Emily your best smile and reached to grab her hand, kissing it gently. “Why don’t you tell me about what it’s been like in Paris?”

Emily pursed her lips before letting it go and carrying on about what Paris is like in the summer. She apparently had been spending a lot of time at the public library brushing up on her French, reading every novel she could get her hands on. She also pointed out a few pieces of art on the walls and sitting on shelves—she had made those, too, and she laughed a little as she said the one silver lining she found in all of this was that she had the time to pick back up her art hobby she abandoned once she started working for the government. You made sure to keep a hand on her thigh for the whole meal, both to ground you and to bring her comfort in the way she loved it the most.

“How about you, how has work been at Georgetown?”

"Oh, it's been okay. Finishing spring semester was pretty rough but my students were absolute gems and made it easy for me to get through. Rossi even offered to come guest lecture on criminal behavior in each of the classes to let me take an additional class off after my bereavement leave ran out."

Emily nodded and encouraged you to keep going, so you did. The conversation between the two of you flowed easily as you finished dinner and cleaned the dishes. You missed this the most, the casual intimacy of being with Emily. You loved the way that she always wiped some bubbles on your nose when she helped you with the dishes and the laughter that always followed. It was an honor to see the intimidating Emily Prentiss giggle like a schoolgirl. The rest of the night went smoothly as you cuddled on the couch and she translated French films for you, never letting you out of her grip. You gracelessly side-stepped her attempts asking you about your feelings, but she just let it go. She knew that you would talk to her in due time.

The walls were slowly caving in as you ran as fast as you could towards a steel door at the end of the hallway. You could hear gut-wrenching shrieks reverberating off of the walls and it only made you run faster. As you approached the door, you frantically pulled at the locks and made your fingers bleed with the effort. Your name was being screeched through the door, someone desperately calling for your help.

“I’m coming! Hold on, I’m coming!”

When you finally wrenched the door open all you could see was Emily laying on the ground, blood profusely running from her body. You could hear the laugh of a man but couldn’t see him.

“I told you she wouldn’t make it in time, Emily. You shouldn’t have lied to her.”

You screamed at the bodiless voice as you ran to Emily’s side, hopelessly pressing against her stomach, trying to find the source of the bleeding. The warm, red liquid pulsed over your hands slower and slower and slower until you saw Emily’s face go slack and her chest deflate further than is humanly possible.

“Emily! No! Emily come back! Please! You can’t leave me!”

When you opened your eyes, you shot straight out of bed completely disoriented. Where were you? How did you get into bed? Panic gripped your features and when you heard quiet words whispering in your ear, you flung yourself from the bed. You searched Emily’s face as she reached for you and you shook your head, running into the adjoined bathroom with a slam of the door followed by the distinct sound of engaging a lock. You sat quietly on the floor as your body shook, desperately trying to control your breathing. This nightmare had plagued you every night since Emily died and you always felt just as helpless and broken every morning when you woke up.

For long minutes you cried while sitting on the side of the tub, head cradled in your hands as they rested on your knees. It felt like you were thrown back into that first week after Emily's death, the pain of grief washing over you in waves. A timid knock resounded through the small bathroom as you stood and leaned over the sink, turning on the cold water. You ignored Emily and splashed the water on your face, dabbing at your cheeks with your fingers. In the mirror was a reflection of a woman with bags under her eyes that hadn't always been there, lines creasing your forehead, and a frown that used to look out of place. Bracing your hands on the sink you let out a deep breath, relaxing the last of your shaky breaths.

“Y/N, honey, can I come in?”

You sighed deeply and hung your head. The thought of being surrounded by Emily was overwhelming and you needed some time to collect yourself. "No. I will be out in a minute."

After a few long minutes, you collected yourself. The tears had stopped and your breathing was back to normal. You were ready to face the music.

What you saw when you exited the bathroom was wholly unexpected. Emily was sitting up against the headboard with a pillow clutched in her arms, pressed to her chest by her knees. Her face was red and splotchy and she anxiously wiped away the tears that were falling down her face, almost as if she was embarrassed to be having them. You frowned and climbed into bed, sitting next to her and placing a hand on her knee.

“What’s wrong, Em? Are you okay?”

She doesn’t look at you as she responds. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry.”

“Are you sure, babe? People don’t usually cry when they’re fine.”

Emily drops her head into the pillow she’s clung to and you rub her back a little. She takes a few deep breaths before looking at you.

“You… You were screaming. You were crying in your sleep and screaming and when I woke up you ran away from me. You’ve never done that before.” Emily’s voice was fragile and shaky as she spoke to you. You let out a deep sigh and pulled your hand away from her back, curling in on yourself a little.

“I… I’m sorry, Em. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Emily quickly shakes her head and grabs one of your hands. “No, please don’t apologize, my love. I’m not upset with you. I think I was just startled.”

You quirked an eyebrow, “Startled by what?”

A thoughtful silence passed between the two of you before she continued. “I’ve never seen you so afraid before. It’s like when you woke up and saw me, I was the thing in your nightmare. And then you locked yourself in the bathroom. You’ve never done that before. You’ve never shut me out like that before. And I’m not upset with you but I am upset with myself.”

Your chest panged as you heard Emily’s confession. You didn’t want her to see how much you were still struggling. She was here, your wife was back from the dead in some once-in-a-lifetime miracle and you should have been thrilled, over the moon. But a part of you didn’t trust the woman sitting in front of you. You were convinced that in the morning you would wake up and it would all be a lie and she would be gone. The last 7 months had changed you incredibly and you didn’t know how to just pick up where you left off when she died.

“I’m not afraid of you, Emily,” you began as you rubbed her hand with your thumb. “You’re the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me. But I am afraid of me, of this. I’m afraid that this is all just some twisted joke and that you’re going to be gone when I wake up. I’m afraid that I have changed too much since you died and that I won’t be the same wife that you fell in love with. And I am ashamed that I can’t seem to just be happy that you’re back. I’m so relieved to have you in my arms and it gives me incredible anxiety to think about ever letting you out of my sight. But I just… something inside of me doesn't trust you. I don't trust that you're real, that you're mine, that you won't leave me. I don't trust that this ache in my chest will ever go away. I want to trust you, Emily, you're the most important person in my life, but when you died, a part of me died, too. And despite knowing you didn't mean to hurt me, I feel so incredibly betrayed. I love you Emily, and I want to trust you, but I just can’t right now.”

You could hear Emily’s chest hitch and her breathing grow ragged with every sentence that left your mouth. You didn’t have to look at her to know that she was crying. When you did look, you saw the same heartbroken expression that you had been carrying in your soul for the past 7 months. Her lips were sucked into her mouth as she was trying not to cry, trying not to make this about her. You reached your arms out to hold her, bringing her head to your shoulder.

“Can we… Can we fix this? I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. Not after I finally got you back.” Emily’s voice was laced with tears and you felt some of the warmth trail down your collarbone.

You leaned over to kiss the top of her head. “I want to, Emily. I don’t want to feel like this forever. We are going to have to rebuild this from the ground up, but there is no one I would rather do it with than you.”

Emily picked her head up off of your shoulder and cupped your chin with her hand. You looked at each other for a while, her watery eyes piercing into your guarded ones. She flicked her gaze down to your lips and back and you nodded your head once. Slowly, Emily leaned in to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, one of rejuvenation and rebirth. There was only one way to go from here and that would be up. When Emily pulled back, she wiped a tear from your face that you didn’t know that you had shed and then pulled you down into the sheets where you curled together and fell back asleep.

Fixing things would take time but all of that could start in the morning. For now, you and Emily succumbed to the rest you both desperately deserved and curled against each other, protecting each other from the world that was threatening to tear you two apart.

tags: @dr-reid-fuck-me-challenge

[19gumi]

WHEN THE SUN SETS | KUROO TETSUROU

Summary: Kuroo hates the way he can never tell what’s on your mind (and also, you eat your cherries ridiculously slowly)

Genre: Fluff (childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining)

Word count: 1.8k

Porcelain plates now stained with chocolate are neatly tossed to the side, bearing the remnants of the croissants Kuroo treated the two of you with. Secluded in your favorite part of the park, you try to get one last whiff of the sweet pastry that you ate a little too quickly for your liking, making a mental note to pay that bakery another visit soon.

The final beams of sunlight graze your face as you observe the birds above you, hurrying to find a shelter before the rosy sky hues turn dark blue. You’ve missed their renowned song – the winter fell into a silence after their departure, sometimes too deafening when paired up with the freezing December cold.

Your field of vision is obstructed by a muscular arm reaching for the cherries in the bowl placed beside your head. You observe his Adam’s apple move as he swallows the fruit, eyes focused on the horizon sprawled in front of him. And then they suddenly shift to your figure, your head soundly placed in his lap.

“You okay?” he asks, thumb rubbing circles in your shoulder.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Dunno. You seemed lost in thought.”

You’re about to respond when his body abruptly shifts under yours, the motion prompting you to sit up straight. Kuroo’s hand flies to the back of his head, and you assume he’s received a hit to it.

That is shortly proven to be true when a distressed mother shouts after her son who you don’t even notice at first, standing a foot away from the two of you. His arms are folded behind his back, lips pouting as his eyes search for the ball he had previously been playing with.

Kuroo’s furrowed brows shift back to their original shape, face muscles relaxing as he takes in the sight of the kindergartener. The mother pants as she approaches the two of you, crouching down next to the child that you assumed wasn’t more than 5 years old.

“Hi, I’m very sorry to have caused-“

Kuroo swats his arms in the air. “It’s not a big deal really, didn’t even hurt.” He then smiles at the kid, extending his hand towards him. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kuroo.”

The kid buries his head in the crook of his mother’s neck as a response, refusing Kuroo’s handshake. She spots the ball and sends him off to pick it up, sighing deeply.

“He gets shy sometimes,” she chuckles, scratching her forehead.

Couple of more apologies and one goodbye later, the sun now long hidden and the moon greeting you (this time only one half of it), Kuroo wishes he could take a peek at your mind.

He knows that’s not possible, though, leaving him with the only option of staring at the side of your face, alluringly illuminated under the evening sky. Admiring the faint glint in your eyes, he sighs when he realizes he is about to go to bed with the same unanswered questions another night in a row.

Kuroo is too lost in the way his fingertips itch to sink themselves in your cheeks, his body starving for that addicting warmth of yours – the one he sensed once for the first time many years ago and never wanted to let go of again.

You turn your head around unreasonably quickly – he’s unprepared and so, so exposed. The look in his eyes is soft, way too soft for you to have a full view of it. He hasn’t said a word, but the faint burning in the pit of his stomach convinces him he’s spilled the most tender secrets of his.

“You know,” you begin, reaching for the bowl with cherries behind you. You chew painfully slow, he thinks, the time that it takes for you to swallow the cherry seeming like an eternity.

“That child from earlier,” you continue at last, fiddling with your hands in your lap. “He reminded me of myself when I was his age.”

Kuroo doesn’t know what he was hoping for, but your words do cause a change in his stance. “How so?”

And there you are, flashing him your signature smile one more time. The enigmatic one, the exact one that he’s been trying to decipher unceasingly.

The same one that causes him to miss serves in practice.

The one that keeps him from entering the world of his dreams at night, but also the one that makes him feel like he’s living the sweetest fantasies of his when he gets to see it up close.

“Just like the birds we watched earlier, the pink sky alerts everyone that it’s time to find a shelter for the night,” you glance at him, to which he nods, prompting you to continue. “My mom would always tell me to go straight home once the sky changed colors, and you know I always followed that rule.”

“Yeah, I remember going home and sulking during dinner because I didn’t get to spend more time with you.”

He mouths an ‘ouch!’ when you poke him in the ribs, clutching at his chest. “Dramatic much?” you chuckle, rubbing circles in his back.

“Anyway,” you continue, retracting your hand. “Sometimes I’d lose my toys just like that child from earlier did, but I wouldn’t have enough time to look for them. The street lights would already be turned on and I didn’t want the monsters to catch me.”

Kuroo lets out a hearty laugh. “Monsters? What monsters?”

You shift your eyes towards your hands, which he sees as a chance to inch closer, just enough for him to feel your shoulder against his.

“Dunno,” you say. “But I knew once I’d reach my mom’s arms that I was safe. She’d always nag at me for forgetting to wash my hands – when in reality I didn’t, I always remembered to do it. But I guess I craved that noise which served as an additional proof that I was secure between the four walls of my room, when the silence of the night was the loudest.”

“Well aren’t you a poetic one [name],” he teases, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

A hush descends between the two of you. Kuroo can feel his lips bruising as he chews on them, unsure whether to verbalize the words that could possibly hint at the desires he held close to his heart.

In the end he does it anyway. “It’s way past sunset now, though. So why,” his voice cracks, before he swiftly disguises it as a cough. Or at least he tries to. “Why aren’t you rushing to get home? What if as we speak, the monsters are actually coming to get you?”

It’s your turn to stare at his side profile now, your pulse forming an unsteady rhythm in your throat as you study the slope of his nose, unsure of what was about to come next.

A confession? Were you really ready to ruin a decade long friendship just because rather than playing catch with him you wanted to kiss his lips instead?

His question is silly, you aren’t that eight year old child anymore – the one who’d run away and leave their friends in the street the same instant the clock stroke seven-thirty.

It’s way past seven now, air breezy and short of any sunrays piercing through it, but not even the scariest monster in this world could make you budge from the tranquility surrounding you in this very moment.

It’s almost as if the thought of a life without Kuroo Tetsurou horrifies you more than anything else that’s out in the wild, waiting for you.

“That’s what I was wondering too”, you sigh. “It might be because you’re here.”

And just like that, your secret is disclosed; it’s a simple statement that makes your lungs feel lighter, the burden of having to bear it within your chest for so long now easing with every exhale you take.

He gulps. The arm around your shoulders seems to have become stiffer, too. He’s already close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheek and all you wish for is to lean into his embrace, all of this talk turning your eyelids heavy.

“But I was there all those years ago as well. What changed?”

“Well, for starters, I was what, eight years old?” you scoff, meeting his eyes momentarily before you let your head fall on his chest, inhaling deeply. You have yearned for the scent of the fresh new leaves ever since they wilted last October. “I guess I wasn’t in love with you back then, Tetsu.”

It’s silent. You think it’s unfair – everything you’ve built over the years rapidly slipping through your fingers, just because of one sentence full of longing, anticipation. But then his arm travels down to wrap itself around your waist, the other one finding its way to the nape of your neck.

It’s not the first time he’s heard those words leave your mouth - his imagination has deceived him multiple times already. He’d wake up only to find himself clinging onto his pillow, providing enough heat to trick him into thinking it belonged to you.

However, your scent is way too real for everything to be fake this time around; it simply can’t be. The words he’s been longing to hear are there, the confession lingering in the air only for him and the trees around you to know.

All it takes now is for you to learn his answer, even though the way he’s pulling you into his body gives you an idea of what it might be.

“Do you know why I never went home before you did?” he asks.

“Mm. Why?” your voice is muffled by his hoodie, the vibration sending chills down his spine. He’s convinced now. This is truly his reality he’d always been wishing for.

“Because you were there,” he tilts his head, moving your chin so you can look up at him. He’s grinning, and if he didn’t just admit he was in love with you, you’d probably be now telling him how lame you thought he was. “I couldn’t understand it then, the way your presence made me feel at peace. I realized what it was only when we started high school. I didn’t want to say anything, though.”

“So?”

“So,” he says, his hand leaving your waist to join his other one on your face, lightly squishing your cheeks. “I’m very much in love with you, too.”

His gaze momentarily shifts to your lips, before it’s back on your eyes. “I really want to kiss you, [name].”

The entirety of your body heat accumulates in your face, and his fingers effortlessly melt against it, your body sinking into the grassy earth as if it’s sand.

“Do you?” you ask, your thumb grazing his bottom lip.

“Yes. Can I?”

You nod, and Kuroo swears his heart skips a beat. Hypnotized, he allows his eyes to flutter shut, ready to memorize all the various flavors you have to offer.

When finally he gets to savor your bare, delicate skin - sweeter than anything he has ever tasted before, it’s like the world stops for the both of you.

Or maybe you only drift to your own, each swipe of his tongue guiding you through a new route, the destination of which has yet to be discovered.

[spxllcxstxr]

Crushing (on) the Competition • L.E

(Gif not mine)

Request: Hi! Sorry, can I request for Lily Evans? Just something that involves reader and Lily having friendly competition when it comes to studies, but Lily knows that reader has a crush on her but she waits for reader to finally admit it to her. — anon

Summary: Studying for hours in the library can lead to some strange dreams about one of your competitors.

Warnings: Gets a bit suggestive towards the end, school, homework, exams, a paragraph about Snape, glass breaking

Word Count: 1.6k

A.N: We can all agree that Karen looks absolutely stunning in this gif, right? Inspiration hit and this blurb became a fic. And I absolutely enjoy it. Hopefully it’s all good it became a bit suggestive, it really just came out that way without me planning it like that lmao. Hope you all enjoy! Love you all ❤️

****

The competition in your year was getting out of hand, in your opinion. There were four particular students, you included, vying for the top spot in every available class, but recently that seemed like an unobtainable goal. The four of you were equally matched as rivals, constantly battling each other for the top position, but never staying there long enough to boast and brag to your peers.

Hamish Stebbins, a Ravenclaw with pristine horn rimmed glasses and one of the most massive superiority complexes you’ve ever witnessed, was a force to be reckoned with, especially since he could bang out an O worthy essay of any length an hour before it’s due in class. And he made a living off of it. For the right price, a perfect score in any class of your choosing could be yours with that massive brain of his.

Severus Snape, while it pains you to admit it, was so effortlessly intelligent to the point where he was extremely smug about it. He took his time, carefully crafting out each word of an essay and never took short cuts on his assignments. Unlike Stebbins, however, his knowledge was his own, meaning not even Slughorn could force him to help another student with some measly little problem if it meant he had to impart some of his sacred knowledge.

Then there was Lily Evans. She poured her heart and soul into each assignment and it always paid off for her. But she wasn’t like the other two. Lily never bragged about her perfect grades or rubbed it in your face like Stebbins and Snape. She always went out of her way to help other students, for free, of course. Lily was willing to spend hours in the library explaining concept after concept to anybody who needed assistance. That was just the way she was.

And to be completely honest, you wouldn’t even be in the running for top of your year if it wasn’t for Lily and her persistent kindness.

Ever since you met in first year, the two of you held long study sessions in the library, pouring over textbooks until the text became fuzzy and your vision swam about. She often helped you understand lectures and pointed out how to decipher essay prompts. Luckily, you’re a quick learner so with her aid you were able to beat out most of the other students in your year.

The study sessions between the two of you still occur, but they’ve been shoved off to the side recently because of the heavy workload you each have to endure. The final two years of Hogwarts were the most crucial years of your life and you weren’t going to screw it all up now.

Plus, ever since she squeezed you into a bone crushing hug right before your final O.W.L. exam in fifth year, you can’t seem to form a sentence or even think straight around her anymore.

Your eyes always avoided her piercing green ones, instead focusing on how awkwardly your feet shuffled around in your black Mary Jane shoes against the stone flooring.

Many of those times where she would skip over to you unexpectedly, you would end up flinging your wand across the room or spilling your entirely new ink pot all over your fresh ream of parchment. She would always giggle and offer to help you clean your mess up, and you could never actually choke out a coherent thought before making a mad dash towards the exit.

So to save yourself from the embarrassment, you always wind up studying alone in the library well into the night.

So that’s where you find yourself well into Sunday evening, in the back corner of the library obscured by mountains of Transfiguration books, studying for the next day’s exam.

The four of you were equally skilled in the subject, meaning if wanted to be on top, you needed to work for it more than usual.

Your corner is dark and dusty, the only light being from the flickering lamps you lit and placed haphazardly around the oak table. They cast an eerie orange glow across the paper, almost dreamlike.

The handwritten black ink text starts to jumble together at around nine, which makes complete sense considering you’ve been holed up in this one spot since classes ended hours ago.

Your legs and your butt had gone numb hours ago, making your old rickety wooden chair seem comfortable.

Eyelids droop considerably, the weight almost becoming unbearable, just like how your head starts to slide away from your palm. The text starts to shift, and in your tired haze you distantly wonder when you started studying ancient runes.

You’re able to get out one meek yawn before your heavy head slips down to your textbook pillow and your vision cuts to a comforting black.

A delicate hand rests on your shoulder, trying to shake you awake.

In your dreamlike state, you blearily open your eyes and glance at the hand. It’s pale and freckled with light pink nail polish that looks fresh considering each nail is still in pristine condition. If they were yours, you would’ve bitten through it all already.

“(Y/n)?” The voice is soft and hushed. “Sweetheart, you gotta wake up, it’s past curfew.”

Your eyes trail up their robe covered arm and finally rest on their face. It takes you a moment to fully register the galaxy of freckles adorning their face and those green eyes that always made you fidget. She’s stunning in her Gryffindor robes, she always is in your dreams, her top two buttons are popped.

“Lily?” You mumble, still attempting to will yourself less tired. Yawning, you pick your head up.

“Did you spend all this time studying, sweetheart?” Lily continues, the hand on your shoulder trailing up to your jaw.

Sweetheart was the nickname Lily always used in your dreams and each time she addressed you, your stomach erupted in butterflies and your heart began to skip beats.

You hum and nod in response.

She pouts, her pink lips plump and vibrant. Swiftly, she moves a few of your books so she can prop herself up on the table while still looking at you.

Her grey pleated uniform skirt rides up her thigh a tad, exposing her soft and pale skin.

You swallow, eyes wide. “Merlin Lils, the things you do t’me.”

“And what, do tell (Y/n), do I do to you, exactly?” Her green eyes are wide and doe like, playful feigned innocence drenching her gentle features.

The particles of dust float aimlessly by, glowing like balls of light due to the lanterns you still have surrounding you.

She’s towering over your seated body, thumb swiping across your bottom lip.

Your dream was in a whole ‘nother territory now.

“Lily, I’ve fancied you since bloody fifth year! You can’t just—“ You sputter, heart pounding wildly in your chest. “We’ve got an exam—!”

She giggles, the lovely sound filling up the library.

“Oh, I’ve known about your crush for some time now, (Y/n).”

Breath catches in your throat. “Oh.”

Once again, Lily giggles. She pushes herself back against the table, skirt being pushed up even more, the stack of books behind her tipping, the lantern on top of them falling, falling, falling...

The shattering of glass makes you jolt up from your seat, the piercing sound waking you up as you tear your gaze away from Lily.

“Shit!” She curses. “Shit, I’m sorry, (Y/n).”

As she turns to wave away the mess, it suddenly occurs to you that you may not be dreaming after all. While her back’s turned, you pinch yourself hard, stifling your yelp behind your other hand.

A dreadful chill shoots down your spine causing your body to freeze.

You weren’t dreaming.

“Oh fuck.”

Quickly, your hands shoot up to your head, fingers grasping at your hair in disbelief and embarrassment.

Lily turns back to face you, eyebrows drawn together in concern, the glass gone.

“Are you alright? Did a shard get you—?”

“This—this wasn’t a dream.” You shakily state, staring at her.

“Do you frequently dream of me?” She raises an eyebrow, still stepping closer to your form.

“Yes!” You cry, before dropping your voice down, remembering that you are out after curfew even if Prefect Lily was with you. “That’s why I thought—I thought—“

“You only confessed because you thought it was a dream.” Lily interjects calmly in realization.

“Merlin, I’m so sorry!” You groan, gaping at your own stupidity.

“No! No, don’t be sorry, (Y/n)!” Her smile lights up her face once again as she moves her hands to cover your own. “I wanted to hear you admit your crush on me so I could...confess in return.” She bites her lip shyly.

“You—you like me?” You mutter, stomach doing complete flips.

“It was fifth year for me, too.” Lily confesses. “Something about seeing you all stressed out while studying and us huddling over a paragraph in the candlelight...” She trails off.

“Well that’s grand!” You laugh. “Absolutely ace!”

“Well c’mon then, sweetheart, let’s get you up to the dorms.” Lily chuckles as your rejoice.

“But the exam is tomorrow, Lily—“

“Tomorrow after lunch, (Y/n). You need your sleep if you wanna take down Snape and Stebbins.” Lily teases, helping you pack away your things into your leather bag.

“And if I want to take down you as well?” You ask, shoving books away and collecting your notes.

“Well,” She starts, shooting you a wink. “just ask me nicely.”

She laughs at your audible gulp before taking your hand and dragging you up to her own dorm.

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Love or Duty by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 3/8

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche

Chapter 3: A Truce

Ruby used the broken handle of the carriage door to knock out another bandit attacking her before she screamed at Killian. “Go!”

Killian didn’t turn back, chasing Emma into the wooded forest. Tripping over branches, he found himself tumbling down into the ravine below him. He groaned when he hit the ground, looking up from where he fell. He was wasting valuable time lying on the ground. He pulled himself up, beginning his climb up the rocky hill. He clawed his way to the peak, digging his hands into the muddy ground.

He could see the dark-haired barbarian a few feet in front of him. Emma was standing inches from the man, her arms raised with a large branch in her hands.

“Drop the stick, sweetheart, stop fighting me.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart.” She screamed, swinging the branch, and connecting it with his head as the man tumbled toward the ground. When he stood up, a look of annoyance on his face as he wiped leaves from his shoulder, Killian saw the shimmer of silver as he yanked the blade from his back. Killian’s feet moved underneath him as the man lunged toward Emma with the dagger and he heard her scream out in pain.

He slammed his body into the bandit, landing on the ground with a thud as bone met bone. The man growled, rolling away from him. Killian stumbled to his feet, reaching for his sword, and finding an empty scabbard.

“Bloody…” The man lunged at him, the dagger nearly missing his shoulder as he leaned backward, avoiding the hit. He swung his hook forward, making contact with the side of his head. He kicked his foot toward the man’s stomach causing him to stumble backwards. The man quickly recovered, and Killian tried to avoid the fist that connected with his cheek, sending him toward the ground. He felt around in the leaves for anything to brandish as a weapon, turning quickly to try and stop the man from running him through when the man paused, his face crumpled as a familiar silver blade drove through his chest from his the man’s back.

Killian’s head fell back against the ground, trying to catch his breath as the man slid to the ground, Emma standing behind him, his sword firmly in her grasp. She stumbled forward, dropping the sword, and falling to her knees.

He sat up, examining the blood red stains expanding at her side. He reached out, pulling the torn fabric away from her body. “Is this how you get a woman out of her clothes?” She laughed weakly.

“All you had to do was ask, love.” He smiled, pressing his hand against the wound at her hip. He grabbed the hem of her tunic, ripping the fabric.

“What are you…” She complained weakly.

He bunched up the fabric and pressed the mass against her side. “Hold this steady to control the bleeding.” He looked around to see how far into the forest they had traveled, hearing a faint sound of horses in the distance. “Can you walk?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one who saved you.” She said defiantly as she stood up from her spot. “I’m not some damsel in…” She stumbled as she tried to step forward and Killian jumped up to steady her.

“You can argue with me about chivalry once I get you safely to the castle.” Without another word he hoisted her into his arms, picking up his sword from the ground and heading in the direction of the carriage.

~*~

Emma groaned as Killian hoisted her into his arms, pain searing through her side as she held the fabric close to her skin. She glanced up at him, his jaw set firm as he stared ahead of their path. She couldn’t look away at the determination he displayed to get her back to safety.

“Killian.” She heard a voice shout.

“Emma.” Ruby screamed quickly after as they entered the clearing, rushing toward them.

“It was a dagger; we will need the surgeon once we get to Jonesboro.” Emma was lifted in the carriage and placed on the bench inside. “Bandits?”

“Aye.” She heard Liam reply outside the carriage. “We’re close to home; we need to make haste.”

Ruby was at her side, brushing the hair from her sweat drenched forehead. “Are you alright?” Emma sat up, annoyed at all the fuss being made at her expense.

“I’m perfectly alright, it’s barely a scratch.”

“What happened out there?” Ruby ask quietly but before she could answer, Killian entered the carriage and slammed the door shut.

“Liam is going to ride ahead to make sure the path is clear. We are not far from our home.” He sat down across from her, his blue eyes staring intently at her. “How are you feeling, love?”

She rolled her eyes and snorted. “Like I got stabbed.”

“Conveniently enough, you did.” He laughed. “No need to worry your pretty blonde head, we’ll have you stitched right up as soon as we get home. I supposed you can be thankful you’ve already landed yourself a husband.”

“And why exactly should I be thankful for that?”

“Gonna be quite the scar you’ve earned.” He said as his tongue swiped across his bottom lip, his eyes staring at the bloodied cloth beneath her fingers at her hip.

She sat up and tried not to wince. “Are you trying to imply that I would be unable to secure a husband because I’ve now made myself unattractive.”

“Never said that. In fact, some men might find that type of thing,” he paused, his eyes locking on hers, “quite attractive.” She didn’t know why but suddenly she felt like he was staring into her soul, or that he could somehow see beneath her layers of clothing, either way, it unnerved her. “But” He said with a click at the end of the t, “others might find it repulsive,” he shrugged, “I can assure you; Liam won’t care what you look like naked or otherwise.”

She shook her head, “Thanks for the assurance.” She said dryly.

“I am at your service, M’Lady.” He said in a sarcastic tone that made her want to toss him from the carriage.

“Do you think we are almost there?” Her handmaiden interrupted, breaking the eye contact she held with the arrogant Prince seated across from her.

“We should reach the castle walls before sunset.” He replied quietly, casting a worried glance in her direction before immediately turning away from her.

“I shall be certain not to bleed out on your mother’s satin.” She said with a laugh, gripping the sofa cushion below her, and the Prince smiled in her direction as if her humor had somehow assuaged his concern for her safety. If that was even the reason for his sudden change in mood. Emma could not be certain, but with all his bravado and arrogant remarks, he did seem to be genuinely concerned for her safety. After all, he had come to her rescue in the forest, and had it not been for his sudden arrival, she was not sure she would have gotten the upper hand with the bandit. Not that she would admit that to him.

The wound in her side was not grave, once they reached the castle, their healers would have her fixed up, but she also knew that the situation could have gone another way. If anything had changed, she would have to admit that the brothers Jones had earned her respect in the valiant way they defended her and Ruby.

She felt her eyes drawing heavy, sleep catching her before she could fight it. Images swirled in her head, a valiant knight climbing the castle walls, swords clashing around her until every last man had fallen. The man stood in front of her, bowing to his knees as he offered her his sword, swearing to protect her until his own heart stopped beating. He stood, removing his helmet, his sea blue eyes staring into hers as he pulled her into his arms and captured her lips in a searing kiss.

Emma’s eyes darted open, gasping for air.

“Emma, love, are you alright?”

Emma blinked her eyes a few times, her vision finally clearing as those same blue eyes stared at her in concern, his thumb rubbing circles against her arm as he knelt in front of her bench. She blanched, swallowing hard as she remembered those lips on hers in her dream, the way he held her so gently in his arms, the way his hand touched hers, the same way he was doing right now. She pulled away from him, sitting up and wincing in pain.

“I’m fine. It was a dream.”

She looked anywhere but at him as he sat back on his own side of the carriage, Ruby reaching over to check her wound.

“You were whimpering or moaning, I wasn’t quite sure.” She spoke softly and Emma felt her ears burn hot.

“It was a horrid nightmare.” She said more forcefully than she intended. She glanced at Killian and the smirk on his face angered her. Before she could come up with a sarcastic comment, the carriage came to a sudden halt and Emma braced herself on the bench.

The door to the carriage swung open. “Help Emma down and into the castle, I’ll advise father of the trouble on the road.” Liam demanded of his brother and Killian jumped into action, escorting her out of the carriage and then lifting her into his arms.

“You can put me down; I know how to walk.”

“I have my orders and I intend to follow them.” He responded with a frown, nodding at people as he passed them by.

“Prince Killian, in here.” She turned to see a man standing in an archway. “Your men arrived a short time ago.”

Killian sat her down on a hard table in the middle of the room. “It was a short dagger; I don’t think it went too deep.” He gestured to her side, reaching down, and taking the bloodied fabric from her hand. “Princess Emma, this is Victor, he’s our best surgeon. He’ll take care of you.”

He stepped away from the table and Victor followed him as they spoke in hushed tones. “Yes, your grace, as soon as I’m done.” He bowed and Killian slipped out of the room in a hurry.

~*~

“Are you sure they were Regina’s men?” King Brennan stood at the front of the room as Liam updated him on the trip to Jonesboro.

“Aye, they were wearing her crest.”

The King cursed, pacing the throne behind him as his mother sat in her own chair. “They are getting braver, attacking the King’s carriage.” His mother said strongly.

“This wedding will need to take place urgently.” His father announced.

“If we rush the nuptials, our people will not have time to embrace the Princess. They may not unite if they feel there is something amiss.” Liam countered.

“He is right, Brennan.” His mother agreed.

His father nodded, “Double the troops to defend the road between Jonesboro and Misthaven.” He announced to the guard in the room, who quickly exited.

“Court the Princess publicly, introduce her to the villagers, we need the people to love her.”

Liam snorted. “Good luck with that, she’s a real charmer.”

“Liam Jones.” His mother said loudly. “Do not besmirch your betrothed.”

“Apologizes mother, it is just…” He paused. “I do not think we are a suitable match.”

“A match.” His father laughed; a low deep belly laugh that made Liam’s stomach crawl. “I do not care if the two of you never speak behind your bedchamber door, hell, get separate rooms for all I care. This is your duty; I do not care if you ever love this woman. She is a Nolan, hold your nose, bite your tongue, but get it done.”

He bowed, “Yes father.” He stepped out of the room as Killian was pacing the hallway beyond him.

“What news of Emma?”

“Victor just sent word that he has stitched her up and they escorted her to her bedchamber to freshen up.”

“I shall tend to her at once.” He said with a frown, leaving his brother in the hallway as he went off in search of the woman. “Do you duty.” He grumbled as he climbed the stairs toward her room. As he stood in front of the heavy door, he reluctantly knocked on the wood. The door yanked open, and the dark-haired woman peered out.

“Good afternoon, I’m here to call on the Princess.”

“Of course, one moment, she’s finishing dressing.”

The door closed and he stood with his back to the wall as he waited. He felt like it took ages before she appeared in front of him, a frown on her face, her hair pulled up into braids against her head, and a new satin gown in place of the ruined tunic she had traveled in. “Prince Liam, so nice of you to come calling, I can assure you I am well.”

“Grateful to hear it.” He said honestly. “I thought perhaps if you were feeling up to it, I could show you around the grounds.”

“That would be lovely. I despise being trapped in my bed chambers like I’m a prisoner.”

“You have my assurances; you are no prisoner. Jonesboro will be your home. You are free to go anywhere you please.”

Emma sighed and Liam sensed sadness in the woman beside him. He understood what it must be like being told that she needed to move away from her home, her family, her townsfolk in order to bring about this unity with a man she barely knew.

“If it will cheer your spirits, know that I was just as pleased as you to hear the news of our upcoming union.” They continued to walk through the castle toward the garden. “It is my hope that you and I could be allies in this endeavor.”

“Does it not anger you to be told what to do? To have a decision, so personal, taken from you?”

“Aye, however, I was groomed to be King since I was a very young boy. It is my…”

“Duty.” She finished his sentence with a sour tone.

“It is my honor to fulfill my duty, even if it means the weight of the kingdom is on my shoulders.” He sighed. “I envy Killian, never having responsibility, being carefree to behave how he wishes, woo any woman he sets his sights on.” He laughed, “Being the eldest requires a sense of duty, but I am proud to carry the burden.”

“Men are given the responsibility to rule, while woman are told to submit to their husbands, tend to their needs, stand in the back while the man fights with honor and pride.” She snorted in disgust. “Your duty is to serve; my duty is to give away my autonomy.”

“I’m sorry, Emma. It is not my intention to take away who you are.” He paused, taking her by the arm to still her. “I do not require you to give away or tend to any of my needs. I would not take anything you did not give away willingly.” She looked toward the garden. “Emma, you and I must marry, but you are free to reject our marriage bed. I know you do not love me.”

“What do you know of love?” She said softly, her gaze off in the distance.

He frowned, lowering his head, and dropping her arm. “Sadly, more than you realize. Have you ever been in love, Emma?” She turned to face him.

“No, I have never been in love.”

“We are royalty, and as royalty, my father believes that love is something that is given to you, but I believe that it is something that must be earned. Perhaps one day I will earn your love.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume I understood your place in all of this.” She said with a sigh. “I know this was not your choice. It is not my intention to direct my fury on you.”

“Are you certain about that?” He smiled.

“It is not my intention to direct my fury on you, anymore.” She corrected.

“Emma, I would very much like us to be friends. It will be much easier to get through this if we are able to get along.”

“Perhaps a truce?” She said with a soft smile.

“Aye, I would like that.”

She leaned up on her tip toes, brushing her lips against his cheek and Liam wrapped his arms around her, embracing her.

~*~

Killian stood in the shadows of the garden trellis, watching the scene unfold in front of him. Liam and Emma had been admiring the garden, their talk appeared serious yet friendly. He watched as the blonde leaned up and pressed her lips to her brother’s cheek and the two embraced.

Killian felt a stir in his stomach, a sickness he didn’t understand. A crack behind him brought his attention to the other side of the walk. Behind a trellis, Elsa was also staring at the couple embracing in the middle of the garden, a sad look on her face.

Killian stepped into the light and Elsa jumped as he appeared to her. “Oh, Prince Killian, I’m sorry I did not realize…”

“No need to apologize, Elsa, how are you?” He took one last look to the garden and then turned his attention to the lovelorn lass in front of him.

“I…I’m fine. How is the Princess?” She squeaked out.

“She’s quite different than I imagined she would be.” He laughed. “I’m certain she has less interest in marrying my brother than he does of his union with her.”

“She didn’t appear disinterested.” She said sadly.

“It is important that they appear in love, of course.” He said reassuringly, hoping it would remove the frown from the woman’s face.

“Sorry, I forget my place. It is not my concern if Lia…Prince Liam and Princess Emma are in love or not.”

“You care for my brother.” He said, less of a question and more of a statement.

“Of course, I do, he will one day be our King, it is my duty to care for your brother.” She said startled.

“Aye, Lass, of course.” He smiled, walking toward the kitchen with the blonde, hoping to shield her from the broken heart he was certain lie beneath her chest.

When he joined his parents for dinner that evening, Liam and Emma had made their rounds through the castle and judging from the report his father’s guard had provided at the table, the townspeople were enamored with the blonde beauty from Misthaven. Perhaps her conversation with his brother in the garden had softened her anger toward the situation.

Suddenly the doors to the dining room flung open and a guard appeared, distressed. The King and the guard spoke softly, exchanging nervous glances. He nodded and the man disappeared from the room.

“Regina’s bandits have burned the town of Locksley.”

Killian wiped his mouth, hardly believing his ears, Locksley was half a day’s ride from Jonesboro, the armies were drawing nearer.

“Liam, I need you to ride out and speak to Lord Locksley, ensure that their people are taken care of, we have shelter here if needed.”

Killian stood from his seat, “Father, I can go.”

“Sit down Killian, this is your brother’s responsibility. You will stay at the castle and ensure that Princess Emma does not get bored.”

He made eye contact with the woman across from him.

“I am not a sitter.” He complained. “I am fairly certain the lass can take care of herself.”

“Killian.” His mother’s voice raised from the end of the table. “Your father has spoken.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes mother.”

Liam stood and dropped his head to his father. “I will ride out at once.” He bowed to Emma and left the room hurriedly.

Killian poked at his food, moving the peas across the plate before stabbing at the meat that sat upon a bed of potatoes. His father did not trust that he was capable of representing or protecting Jonesboro, Killian had always been an afterthought to him.

He could feel her eyes upon him, watching him intently as he stewed in his anger. When he looked up, she smiled softly. “Perhaps tomorrow you could show me your stables, do you ride?”

“Aye.” He responded shortly.

“Then you shall take me for a ride, show me the village.”

“That sounds lovely.” His mother added with a sickening tone.

“Stay near the town, I do not wish to waste resources to escort you.” His father interjected and Killian tried not to wince in anger. He didn’t need a guard to escort him anywhere.

“Then it’s settled, you shall escort me on a ride around the castle tomorrow.” Emma said with a smile.

“As you wish, M’Lady.” He said with a mocking bow of his head, disinterested in the chores of being left to keep a watchful eye on his brother’s bride.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Shelbys at Somme: Chapter 7

Thomas X Reader

2873

Summary: Reader gets medical treatment. Thomas is not ok.

by @adventuresintooblivion

They didn’t speak again until the Garrison Pub came into sight. Several men were milling about trying to figure out what the hell was going on. They parted with excited chatter craning their necks to see what Thomas was holding.

“Open the door! If you’re not helping, you’re in the way. Go home. We accomplished what we came here for tonight.” 

Only a handful of people remained. Most of them were the Shelbys themselves. Danny paced back and forth in the back of the bar murmuring to himself. Thomas nodded to the small room they conducted their business in. John hurriedly opened it enough for Thomas to set Y/N down on the table.

Y/N sat there swaying back and forth slightly, her eyes closed as she focused on not falling over. Moments later, Thomas draped his coat around her shoulders. A sigh of relief escaped her lips.  For the first time, she looked up at the people gathered around her.

Aunt Pol’s face was pale. A shawl was clutched in her hands with her hair unmade. John blinked blearily, but she could visibly see the fatigue drain away as he took stock of her injuries. Arthur simply wouldn’t look at her. 

Thomas hovered over her protectively. She could just barely see the redness on his cheek where she’d slapped him. His hand rested lightly against her lower back. She could feel his hand shaking even through all the layers.

“The doctor is on his way but there’s a few things I need to ask you before he gets here.” 

Y/N shook her head, “I want to talk to Pol first.”

He stiffened. “Excuse me?”

She lifted her head, leveling her gaze at him, “You heard me, Shelby. I want to talk to Pol first.”

“Did he touch you?” He growled almost under his breath. Something about him changed. His knuckles turned a stark white as they gripped the table. His lips pulled back in an inaudible snarl, eyes wide as he used every inch of self control he had left not to turn on his heels and find whoever had done this.

“Wha…?”

Thomas roared a tremor visibly running through his body, “Did he touch you!”

Understanding dawned on Y/N. She reached out to lay her hand on his. He recoiled. She leaned forward just enough to press her hand over his. Her skin was ice against his rage, but he did stop shaking once she rubbed her thumb across his knuckles. 

She spoke softly, “He didn’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that I need to talk to Pol.”

He turned toward her, almost pressing his forehead into her shoulder. “I need answers.”

“And you’ll get them. After.”

Thomas locked eyes with her. Finally, he straightened and led his brothers out of the room.

Pol was left behind, her eyes wide as she adjusted her shawl. “That’s the first time I’ve seen Tommy listen to anyone when he’s like that.”

Y/N glanced down

“Well, you wanted me to yourself. Now what is it?”

“I think Grace is working for Inspector Campbell.” Y/N said it all in a rush, not trusting herself to actually speak if she took her time with it. 

Today, the inspector had wanted to instill fear in her and make her a useless pawn in this game of his. She hated to admit that she was in fact afraid. Of what she wasn’t sure, but she’d be damned if she let that decide her actions.

Pol cleared her throat. “That’s… a serious accusation. What is your proof?”

Y/N steeled herself before telling Pol everything. How she’d seen Grace at the opera, the little hints here and there that it wasn’t a place she’d normally be caught dead in. Then the great reveal of the man’s identity.

“I watched her hand him a piece of paper. I don’t know for certain that she is working for him, but it seems like the only logical answer, and at this point it’s dangerous to keep it to myself,” she finally finished.

The whole speech had taken a lot out of her, and she was already exhausted at best. Y/N pulled Thomas’ jacket closer around her, grateful that she was finally starting to warm up. At the edge of her senses, she caught a whiff of a smell that was distinctly Thomas. Stale cigarette smoke, aftershave, and hay. She almost smiled as she remembered the horses he loved so much.

Pol rubbed her eyes with the palm of her hands. “That’s a lot of information to deal with. Why haven’t you told Tommy?”

Y/N frowned, “Right now if I did he’d storm off to kill her. I’m not sure that’s the best idea. Hell, maybe turning her in and ending this now would be preferred. I just… I wanted to ask your opinion.”

Her head jerked up. “This is your business. I’ll have nothing to do with it.”

Y/N sighed, finally letting the exhaustion cause her to sag in on herself, “Well, fuck.” 

“I can’t believe you told me this. I won’t be caught complicit if he finds out,” she hissed.

“Pol, I’ve seen the way he looks at her. He likes her, even if it’s just a little, and with Thomas that means miles. This could destroy him. Or it could get one of them killed, and I don’t know if Grace worked at an opera house and just hates it from exposure and this is all some huge misunderstanding. I just don’t know.” Even to her ears Y/N sounded a bit hysterical.

Pol began to pace, thinking. Her heels clicked loudly on the floor, and even if the boys weren’t listening in they’d be able to hear that. After a few solid moments Pol rounded on the wounded girl.

She shook her finger at Y/N. “Listen here. For now, we say nothing. But if ANYTHING goes wrong and Grace is within ten miles of it, you tell him. Understood?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Alright, now let's get those boys in here. He’s probably about to strangle Arthur.”

As soon as the door knob clicked, Thomas stormed back in. His eyes were dark and cloudy as they traveled over Y/N’s exposed skin. Behind him, a small man with glasses shuffled in.

He spoke with a nasally voice, “Hello, I’m Doctor Tanish. Now if you could remove your coat I’d like to get to work.”

Y/N reluctantly shed the layer of warmth she’d built during her conversation Pol.

The doctor immediately swooped in, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Are there any pre-existing medical conditions I should know about?”

Y/N glanced at Thomas before turning to the doctor. “I have a bullet that’s lodged in my back that’s an inch to the left of my spine by vertebrae T11. They uh… found it and got me with a billy club. A couple times.”

He paused. “That’s very specific.”

“Yeah, well, you hear doctors say it enough eventually you can parrot it back if you need to.”

He nodded before continuing with this ministrations.

 Thomas, who was leaning against the wall, had turned a light shade of green when she spoke. His world was slowly closing in on him, a dark tunnel taking over his vision. It wasn’t until Arthur elbowed him that he was able to regain some control and return to the real world.

Eventually the doctor needed to see beneath Y/N’s underclothes. 

Pol shooed them out saying, “I’ll be right here with her. Let the girl keep some of her dignity.”

Thomas’ hand snaked out to grip hers firmly. “What did you two talk about?”

Pol’s lips settled into a thin line. “I will not betray her confidence. Just have faith, Tommy.”

He released her, allowing himself to be pushed back out into the pub with the others.

Arthur growled under his breath, “You’re gonna want a family meeting as soon as that doctor is done aren’t you?”

“Am I that predictable?”

He just grumbled and went to take a nap in one of the stalls. John soon followed suit, not really sure what his stakes were in all this. 

But Thomas sat at the bar nursing a glass of whiskey. He couldn’t make out much in the way of sounds. That’s why they like that room so much. There were a few moments when a yelp or shout would set him on edge. But all he could do was wait. 

It wasn’t until the sun had started to come up that the doctor slipped from the room, blood covering his hands. Thomas sat up straighter, not realizing just how much he’d drunk until he tried to stand.

“How is she?”

Doctor Tanish let out a tired sigh. “Exhausted. Most of the damage will heal itself just fine; however, there are a few spots that I am concerned about. Will you be taking care of her?”

Thomas was a gang leader. He didn’t have time to be coddling people while he was supposed to be out managing things.

“Yes.” 

Doctor Tanish nodded, pulled out a piece of paper and began to write. “She has three fractured ribs and another one that was popped out of socket, but it’s back now. Her toe was also broken; that’s been splinted. There was some minor internal bleeding, but that’s been addressed. The thing I’m most worried about is that bullet in her back.”

Bile rose on Thomas’ tongue. “Is it that bad?”

“Well, it was already something that could cause chronic pain and difficulty walking. Now that it’s been agitated, the muscles around it have swollen which would lead to temporary paralysis. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s up and around at all.” He tore the paper of a small notepad and handed it to Thomas, “I’ll have medication waiting to be picked up by the end of the day. I’d get it here earlier, but she insisted that she wouldn’t take opium. Under no circumstances let her walk.”

Thomas nodded dumbly, not exactly sure how to process all the information, but as the doctor left he glanced down at the paper. Detailed instructions were scrawled out in handwriting that was little better than chicken scratch. Luckily, John’s scrawl was also atrocious, and if Thomas could read that, he could read anything.

The door was left open. As he looked at it’s gaping maw, something inside him wanted to run. If he didn’t go in, she would once again become a ghost that haunted his memories. He wouldn’t have to face the words he’d said that night, or back then. 

He took a deep breath and walked in. Thomas was a Shelby after all.

〜

Y/N had stopped paying attention to the doctor a while ago. Between the war and her childhood, she’d gone through all this before. Pol on the other hand looked like she was having a rough time. At one point Y/N even caught herself reaching out to hold the older woman’s hand.

“It’s going to be fine, Pol.” Her voice didn’t even quiver.

Pol nearly jumped out of her skin. “Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

Y/N flashed her a wicked grin. “Eh, getting hurt comes with the territory.”

“With knowing Tommy.” Pol’s gaze fell. A deep sadness had made a home for itself. It was in the small things. Her posture, her subtle frown, but most of all her eyes. Eyes that Y/N suspected had seen too many people die.

She gave a small tug to get Pol’s attention. “Actually, I was a bastard long before I met Thomas.” Pol’s brows furrowed so she continued, “Da wasn’t exactly a law abiding citizen. Hell, if I’d been a man I’d probably be in the same position as Thomas.”

A silence settled between them as they both came to terms with Y/N’s past. The doctor didn’t seem to care much about what was said around him. He only spoke to instruct Y/N to move. 

Finally Pol spoke, “While I don’t doubt the legitimacy behind your claim, you have,” she paused searching for the right words, “a certain level of education that isn’t typically available to people of our status.”

Y/N shrugged and immediately got scolded by the doctor. “Over-achieving bastard child. Not much else to it.”

Pol leveled her with a knowing gaze but enough had been shared that night. For the rest of the evening they either chatted idly or Pol dozed. The continuous attention was starting to wear Y/N out even beyond her limits.

She vaguely wondered if she was going soft after the war. Then she remembered that she’d been traipsing around town, got kidnapped, beat to hell and walked back on her own. Y/N allowed herself a small smile. Today was a productive day.

“It’ll take a couple months for your ribs and toe to heal but they’ll do it with little assistance. You must stay off your feet however. Especially if you ever want to walk again.” Doctor Tanish’s voice startled Y/N out of her thoughts.

She glanced at Pol’s dozing figure before replying, “I’ve beaten those odds before. But I’ll try not to push my luck.”

He gave her a curt nod and left.

Y/N glanced around the room, grimacing as she remembered that her flat was upstairs. She also had no way to pay for it now until she was healthy enough to work again.

A soft knock got her attention. There by the door was Thomas, peeking his head through as if he were walking into her bed chamber not his office.

“How are you holding up?” Deep circles had carved themselves underneath his eyes. His already drawn features took on a more extreme form in the dim candlelight.

Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off him. “I’m doing pretty well, all things considering. I might need help upstairs, though.”

Thomas cleared his throat before entering the room. He paused a moment to consider the best course of action. Then with little warning he simply picked her up. She bit back a startled yelp, clinging to Thomas as he moved easily with her in his arms.

“Tommy!” she hissed. Y/N couldn’t properly lift her arms to wrap them around him securely, so she clung to the front of his shirt with all she had. Her knuckles turned white instantly.

He simply chuckled. “I think that’s the first time you’ve called me ‘Tommy’ since you got back. Maybe I should pick you up more.”

Y/N could already feel her ears heating up. “Don’t try and distract me with flirting.”

“Why not? It usually works.”

She didn’t reply as they reached her room. With horror she realized that her key was still in the pocket of her jacket. Which was probably in the back of some copper’s car.

Thomas seemed to read her mind, “You don’t have the key anymore do you?”

She shook her head.

He gently set Y/N down, careful not to jostle her. Then produced a pair of lockpicks, making quick work of the shoddy lock. A few moments later Y/N was sinking into her mattress slowly. 

Thomas kneeled beside her. She couldn’t see him; the darkness clouded his features. He reached out, fingertips the barest touch against her skin, to brush her hair out of her face.

Y/N would later blame the overall shittiness of the day for what she did next. She leaned into the touch. Her own hand reached up to cup his and press it to her lips. Thomas froze. But he didn’t pull away.

“Y/N.” His voice was gravilier than usual.

She wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but it felt like all the years that had been lost came back to life in seconds, all at once. Something between them had faded over time. Now was the first time either of them had actually reached back out for it. It was a tenderness they’d never let the world see. A secret of the trenches. A dream of what could be. 

Eventually, the spell broke, and she released her hold on him. At first he didn’t pull away. Then he stood, ending the moment all too quickly.

Thomas cleared his throat, “I...I need to head out. If I catch you on your feet, I swear I’ll send Aunt Pol after you.” 

Y/N chuckled, and pretended her smile was as genuine as she wanted it to be. “I’ll have to be careful and make sure you don’t catch me then.”

He rolled his eyes as he closed the door behind him.

Y/N let the darkness envelope her as she rolled onto her back. Her movements were stiff with pain. Exhaustion seeped into her joints and with Thomas gone there was nothing left to distract her. 

For the first time since it’d happened she let her mind wander over the events of the day, a sob ripped itself from her throat. Then another. She pressed the palm of her hand into her mouth in a desperate attempt to stifle herself. But Y/N couldn’t stop the tears from streaming like trails of fire down her cheeks.