#the entire front was EMPTY. not a single person sitting there. AND I HAD TO WALK INTO THE ROOM LATE AND SIT THERE

[wolvisms]

ok across the spiderverse thoughts in the tags

[reineyday]

@erinyra ur tags 😂😂

Mihawk needs to do something really hot and sexy like get trapped with Shanks in a situation where they are surrounded by hostiles who pose a semi-significant threat while he does not have his sword (Shanks' fault) but Shanks' has his, for the sole purpose of scoffing when Shanks says he'll fight them off, telling Shanks that he is in no fit condition to fight even rabble like this, before reaching over, pulling Gryphon off Shanks' hip like he owns it, and completely obliterating every single person surrounding them with it.

[bbydoll18xx]

She’s Such a Good Girl (Part 6)

Your newfound fascination with Paige's abs leads to some fun.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.8k

Themes: ab riding, general horniness

A/N: well guys, it only took like idk 4 months and a lot of bullying but here she is! I hope this lives up to your expectations.

I wasn’t planning on doing this but it’s my birthday, and so, here is my gift to you LOL

Let the smut commence ;)

~

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout, babe?” 

Your head whips towards the husky drawl that you had become very familiar with over the last few weeks. Paige’s voice had an effect over your entire body. Your belly would roll in want and your cheeks would heat up, spreading down over your chest and settling into a pool of unbridled want. 

Paige Bueckers had ripped away every single inhibition you had clasped to your entire life, and you were now standing with the shreds of your past life laying at your feet. 

She had come into your life, teasing you first with the edits on your phone and passing glances before slamming you into a delicious fantasy, rivaling those in the romance books you liked to read. 

She had taught you to open yourself up, to learn how to please yourself and her. She had taught you that it was okay to let yourself fall head over heels, and to stop intentionally keeping yourself from happiness to protect yourself from the unknown.

So, here you were, throwing yourself to the wolves, and not giving a single, flying fuck. 

You had never been happier. 

Paige had caught you in another fantasy. It was difficult to not get caught up in her. And even though you had the real deal dancing right in front of your face, the shame of admitting some of your more filthy fantasies was the reason you were keeping your mouth shut.

You clear your throat in an attempt to keep from stuttering, your voice wavering as you try to swallow the lust brewing in your body.

“N-nothing.” 

Fuck.

Paige looks at you suspiciously, grabbing her towel off the bench next to where you were currently daydreaming and wiping off a bead of sweat that was traveling down her toned stomach.

Paige had begged you to come watch her practice, and you had put up a fight, knowing she liked to practice in just a sports bra. Paige’s abs had been at the forefront of your mind for the past two weeks, taking over any rational thoughts.

You were a very focused person, and you always had been. Your grades were phenomenal, but your mind had been hijacked by images of pale, toned flesh. And you did not know how to stop it. 

Your eyes trail to Paige’s stomach, and your tongue peeks out involuntarily, sweeping over your bottom lip in a wanton fashion that did not go unnoticed by the blonde. 

“My eyes are up here,” she teases, sitting down on the bench and leaning into you, bumping her shoulder with yours. “You got that horny look in your eyes again,” she deadpans.

You splutter, desperately trying to find the words to defend yourself against her wildly astute observation. 

She laughs, the sound echoing loudly through the empty gym. 

“I like your abs,” you mumble, unable to keep eye contact from the embarrassment of your confession. 

“You do?” Paige questions, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

You look at her with a disbelieving look. “Well, uh, yeah…” you trail. You pick at your fingernails, feeling anxious from the conversation. “I can’t stop thinking about them.”

Paige pulls you into a searing kiss, distracting you from your racing thoughts. She licks into your open mouth, unspoken promises swapping between the two of you as you make out in the empty gym. 

“You could always ride them,” she suggests casually, a glint in her eyes giving away her practiced air of nonchalance. 

“Who’s the horny one now?”

~

You were definitely still the horny one, it seemed, as you laid in bed later that afternoon, panties soaked as you found yourself completely swept up in the idea of riding her. The thought had invaded the more rational side of your brain, and you were now being bombarded with filthy images of your sopping pussy dragging across Paige’s abdomen.

Last month you were a hopeless virgin. And now here you were, wanting to ride Uconn’s most beloved basketball star. 

You had made the decision before it even registered in your love drunk, horny-as-hell brain, and before you could stop yourself, you were marching across the hall to Paige’s apartment to demand that she take off her shirt and let you have your way with her.

Politely, of course. You weren’t an animal. 

You enter, not even bothering to knock, and you head towards Paige’s room. She was sitting at her desk, headphones on, and working on a paper for a class. 

She looks up with a smug smirk as you linger for a moment in the doorway, your reservations slamming back into you. You meet her gaze, your eyes wide and hopeful, mixing deliciously with the want pouring from your pupils. 

Paige swivels in her chair, muscular legs spread dominantly, inviting you to perch primly on her thigh. She pats them, beckoning you to come to her. Your legs pull you towards her, your thoughts clouded with need, and you sit in her lap, curling into her presence. 

She strokes your cheek, her thumb rubbing across your soft skin in a way that has you sighing in pleasure as you sink into her warm embrace.

“You wanna ride me, don’t you?” She whispers against your ear, her breath sending anticipatory tingles down your spine.

“Yes, please,” you whimper, your voice catching as she begins tracing patterns onto your inner thigh close to your dripping pussy. 

“So polite f’me, aren’t you, baby?” Her voice is thick with want and husky. You wanted to drown in her words. 

“Please,” you whine, the word hanging on your tongue in a pathetic lilt. You were too desperate to care, the overwhelming need brewing in your pussy overpowering the anxiety you felt earlier. 

“Get on the bed,” Paige instructs, and you do exactly as she says, scrambling off of her lap and going to sit on the edge of it. She stares at you for a moment, wordlessly contemplating her next move as she runs a hand across her jaw, admiring your blatant display of submission. 

“Such a good girl,” she states, and the praise sends your head spinning. She stands up and walks right up to you, your eyes peering up curiously in a futile attempt to gauge her next move. 

“Clothes off, baby,” she says, and you waste no time pushing your leggings down your thighs and tossing your t-shirt onto the floor, leaving you in a lace bralette and a thong that was obviously soaked from your own arousal.

Paige notices, and as you lay down, she traces the damp spot with her finger, sending a jolt through your body as your swollen clit feels her touch. 

“Who got you this wet?” She questions, wanting you to tell her just how much you needed this. 

“You. Only you,” you reply breathlessly, already squirming under the heat of her touch. 

“Damn right,” she brags, tugging your bra off and leaving you nearly naked. Your nipples get even harder in the cool air of Paige’s bedroom before her warm mouth attaches to your right tit, licking and biting. 

You moan at the contact, your hands finding her stomach as she sucks hickies to the underside of your breasts, your fingers stroking over the flexing muscles underneath you. 

She was wearing too much clothing, and you whine in protest, begging for her to take off her clothes so there’d be less of a stark power imbalance between you. 

Her mouth leaves your skin as she kneels to take off her shirt and sports bra. Your pupils dilate as you get full access to the creamy skin and rippling muscles that you had become so fond of. You pull her down to meet you in a lustful kiss, moans pouring out of both of your mouths and echoing off of the walls in a passionate display. 

The arousal was building up in a way that was almost painful for you. “Please, need you so bad,” you cry, already trying to get on top of her. 

“I gotchu, baby,” she teases, shedding herself of her sweatpants and her boxers and laying down on the bed, head against her large pile of fluffy pillows. 

Your soaked thong gets thrown on the floor with the rest of the discarded clothes, leaving you fully naked. The afternoon sunshine peeking through the sheer curtains highlights your own arousal leaking down and coating your inner thighs in a way that was downright provocative. 

You straddle Paige, who guides your hips with strong hands anchoring you. Your hair is thrown over your shoulder, ass up in the air as you try to find a good position. 

Paige settles you down onto her stomach, immediately flexing. You gasp as you feel the tight abdominal muscles under your pussy, the feeling foreign and naughty. 

You drag your hips up and down, looking down as you see the aftermath of your dripping arousal pooling onto Paige’s skin. 

You were already panting, the erotic act leaving you needy and desperate to cum on top of the blonde girl. 

“C’mon,” she smirks. “Move those hips, ma.” 

And because you’d do absolutely anything Paige requested of you, you got to work creating a steady rhythm, alternating between grinding down onto her taut stomach and dragging your slick pussy up and down the length of it. 

“Feels so good,” you gasp, already nearing the brink of pleasure. “So, so good.” You were babbling, your thoughts clouded from the overwhelming sensations, fucked out and chasing your impending orgasm. 

Paige slaps your ass, one hand still gripping the flesh of your waist, the jolt of pain rushing through you, turning into pleasurable sparks. 

You lean down to connect your lips in another heated, sloppy kiss as you near the edge. Your movements lose the fluidity, and Paige, noticing, grabs your hips with a strong grasp and helps you ride out the final few strokes before you cum with a loud cry of her name on your tongue. 

Your hips stutter as you become overstimulated, your swollen clit begging for a break from the friction. 

Your breaths are ragged as you come down from your high, moving your hair out of your face and meeting Paige’s, who was grinning widely. 

“That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” she declares, pressing a kiss to your palm.

You giggle, still in shock, and you go to move off of her, your eyes widening as you see the amount of slick you left behind. 

Without thinking, you dip your head and lick a line up her abdomen, tasting the salt of her skin and your own arousal, and Paige’s breath hitches as your tongue traces her abs. 

“Oh, you’re definitely the horny one in this relationship,” she rasps, unsure if you were still the same timid girl she had met last month. 

You reach up to place a sweet kiss on her lips. “I’m okay with that,” you whisper.

~

Please let me know what you think! And as always, my inbox is open for requests or whatever else.

xoxo katy

Taglist:

@oldcrdigan, @paigebuxkets, @the-other-half, @patscorner, @tndaqlifwy , @ch12334 , @double22-k , @inthedeathofherreptuation , @authentic-girl03 , @blueredg52 , @kmoneymartini , @mrsarnold , @ittiwdwysylm @hobbybound @makethemhoesmad @moshuka @madivivic @bridgetloveswomen

Want to be added to my taglist? Comment or send me a message:)

[parfaitblogs]

you're losing me ❀ s. reid x reader

in which he's an entirely different person after prison, and your relationship is crumbling. 

pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: angst tags: post prison reid. no happy ending. argument/fight. strong language. word count: 2.0k a/n: big fan of soul crushing angst. clearly. i dreamt this one up in an everything shower. likely place for me to plan fics? whole lot of nothing happening i love yapping about sadness!! my least favourite spencer trait is that he doesn't think he deserves good things so he pushes them away so obviously i have to write novellas on him doing just that? this used to be based on tolerate it but i listened to ylm the entire time so erm. things change! lol enjoy xoxo

Perhaps you were stupid. 

Very, very stupid. And ridiculous. And every other synonym for those two words that your brain could not possibly imagine up right now. You were all of them. But also none of them. Because you also felt like there was not a single word that could describe you anymore; if there was, maybe you'd consider yourself a person. But clearly you weren't a person. Not anymore, at least. Not to him. 

An awfully painful year it had been. And maybe that's what stripped you of your right to be a person. Maybe it was the overtime. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was everything all at once. Maybe it was nothing at all. 

Three years of dating one man meant you learned quite a bit about who he is as a person to you. Eight years of knowing him meant you knew very well what sort of person he is in general. 

And this wasn't him. 

He was sitting on your couch. A piece of furniture that had, in just one year, erased the memory of you from it, there no longer being an indent on the right side where you always sat. A book was sat in his lap, but he wasn't properly reading it. You could tell from how slowly he turned the pages. From how he stopped every few minutes to rub his eyes, his eyebrows creasing and a quiet, irritated huff leaving his lips. 

It was a habit he had developed. 

This was how it was every night. Three o'clock came, and your body would wake you up from an otherwise restless sleep, and you would drag your feet out to where the man who should be occupying the other side of your bed, actually is. And he wouldn't look up, but you both acknowledged each other's presence, silently. 

And you would watch him for an hour. Until your eyes began to droop, and your feet started to ache, and your heart couldn't handle any more shattering for the night. And then you would drag yourself back to the bedroom, and you would climb into a now cold bed, and you would fall back asleep for another two hours. 

Like clockwork.

You were good with him. So patient. You would make him mugs of morning coffee that he wouldn't drink, and you would wash clothes he wouldn't say 'thank you' for. You wondered if he was actually grateful or not. 

You were too scared to ask. 

"Hey," you said, quietly, when he had come home from work, shrugging his bag off his shoulders, and slipping shoes off his feet. 

"Hi," he answered. As if on instinct, he moved to where you were seated at the barstool to kiss you in greeting, before brushing past and heading into the kitchen. 

You watched him for a few moments as he found a piece of bread to eat, nothing on it. Just... dry. Before your eyes returned to the laptop screen you had open in front of you, fingers tapping away at your keyboard. 

"There's been another terror threat," you said to him, tilting your head to the side. "But they let me work from home."

"Why'd they do that?" he asked, but he could not sound less interested. 

You lifted your head, because you thought he knew. "Because of you, Spence."

"Oh, okay," he answered, and you watched as he threw out half of the bread he did not eat, before he disappeared down the hallway. 

He didn't even care. 

You stared at the empty space down the hall, where he had once been, heart lodged in your throat in an uncomfortable lump you couldn't swallow. This was why you felt stupid. 

Maybe you were sick of feeling stupid. You must be, because subconsciously, your feet had already planted themselves firmly on the floor, and your legs were already taking you down the hall in the exact direction he had just disappeared to. 

He was taking his button up off when you appeared in the doorway to your bedroom, replacing it with a t-shirt. You had never seen him wear so many t-shirts until now. 

You cleared your throat, alerting him of your presence, and he turned, his eyebrows furrowing when he saw you. 

"You know you can talk to me, right?" you said, voice wavering with cautiousness. 

His lips parted, then they closed, and all he managed was a short nod, before he turned back around to find pyjama pants in his drawers. 

"Spencer, I'm serious," you pressed, taking a step into the room. "You need to talk to someone about this."

"I have those counseling sessions at work," he answered, turning back around to face you only once he was wearing pants. 

Your lips pursed. "You hate those."

"Yes, but I'm talking to someone."

"Not someone you trust!"

"And if I talk to you, it would be so different compared to a counsellor, right?"

You froze. He froze. Maybe he realised the implication of his words, you certainly did. That such a simple spoken sentence had your heart stuttering in your chest. 

You shakily exhaled. "I'd hope it would be different," you decided to say. "But I wouldn't be surprised if it isn't anymore."

He stood straighter at your comment. Perhaps not the best thing to say. Certainly not the most mature. 

"What does that mean?"

Right. The reason you decided to follow him in the first place. "I just—I don't feel like you care anymore. And I have tried to be patient, Spencer. I really have. But you shut me out, and we don't even talk anymore. I make you coffee, I do your laundry, I offer to cook, I clean up the house, I do everything I possibly can so you can focus on healing, and I can't even get a proper sentence out of you unless we're arguing."

He inhaled sharply, staring at you. "I don't know if you forgot, but I was locked in a prison for three and a half months."

Your shoulders deflated, your eyebrows creasing and lips pulling down into a frown. "Seriously? I express that I am feeling neglected, and your only response is that you've been in prison—"

"—Well, it kind of changed who I am!"

You fell silent for a few moments, trying to collect your thoughts before you threw them all in his face and actually ruined things between you two. 

"I just feel like you don't care anymore," you repeated, voice awfully soft compared to how hard your body was shaking in anxiety. 

He ran a hand through his hair, and he opened his mouth to speak with that same frustrated frown, so you cut him off. 

"And yes, I know you're dealing with everything that happened to you in prison. I only know what they told us, so I can't even imagine how much you're withholding. Because I know that's what you do. But that doesn't give you an excuse to treat me like I'm not important in your life anymore. I mean, If I'm not, then tell me. If you really don't care, or you've decided that you can't be in a relationship and process everything at the same time, then I'd like to know."

The silence is uncomfortable. And thick. And you're staring at him with eyes that burned with tears you weren't ready to shed yet. He's coming up with a response, so slowly you think maybe prison actually did break his brain. 

"I do care," he finally said, and you wondered if it took him three minutes to come up with that because he was controlling a lie. You pushed that thought out of your head. "But I also don't want you to wait for me to be better, if it's making you feel this way."

Oh.

"Okay," you manage to say, voice not above a whisper as you stared at him. 

"Okay," he echoed, and the tears you were trying so hard to keep in brimmed your waterline, blurring your vision. If he hadn't become one big blob in your vision because of them, you might've seen his eyes soften and his shoulders deflate. 

Maybe he was waiting for you to confront him about it all. So he could end things. Maybe he's been thinking about this for too long, and this was just the final push he needed. You'd like to hope it was a spur of the moment decision, and he wasn't banking on this relationship ending. 

"I'll stay at a friend's," you then murmured, wiping the tears from your eyes, sniffling pathetically. 

"No, this is—"

"—You deserve familiar walls," you cut him off. "I'm sure anything else would freak you out."

He fell silent, because you were right. But he didn't want to kick you out of your own home. He didn't want to kick you out of his life, a sickening revelation he was having all too late.

Maybe that was why, when you turned around to leave, he called your name. Pleadingly. So, you turned back, and he stared at you, and silence fell over you two again. 

"What?" you breathed out after a few too many minutes of quiet. 

"I don't know how to talk to you. Or anyone. Not—not just you."

"About what happened?"

"In general."

You stilled, confusion sweeping across your features, for the thousandth time tonight alone. "You don't have to talk to me, if you can't. Regularly, I mean. That's not... that's not what I'm asking of you. I just need you to communicate with me. I feel like you don't even have feelings for me anymore. That's where most of my issues lie."

"I do have feelings for you."

"It doesn't feel that way."

More silence. More thick, deafening silence that felt like you had submerged your head underwater. And you really just wanted to come to a final conclusion. If this was the end.

"Then is it just that you don't want to be with me anymore? If it is, please tell me," you said, voice pathetically desperate.

He stared at you some more. Silence accompanying him, like some (annoyingly) comforting best friend amidst this conversation. And you slowly nodded your head as what he wanted became clear to you, your heart stuttering uncomfortably in your chest. Your stomach flipping. 

"Indecision doesn't look good on you," you finally cut through the blanket of quiet. "I need a verbal answer, Spencer."

"I do want to be with you—"

"—Then fight, dammit!" you finally snapped, the tears you had managed to control coming back to you, a sob lodging in your throat. "I am sick of you saying you do feel this, and you don't feel that. Make a fucking decision. Please. I cannot keep up a fight for the both of us anymore. You're losing me here, Spencer."

"I'm scared!" he shouted, and you took a step back, his voice vibrating throughout the room. He waged an internal battle for a few moments at your recoil. "That. That right there is what I'm scared of. I am so scared of scaring you."

"You scare me more when you shut down. I will take your anger over your silence."

"I won't," he snapped, watching you flinch. Again. You wanted to stop flinching. 

"It proves to me that you're actually feeling things. Spencer, I feel like I've been living with a ghost."

"I can't control my anger anymore," he added your name with a voice crack, mirroring your heart.

You blink some more tears down your cheeks. "You don't have to. You are allowed to be angry."

"Not around you," he shook his head, his hands brushing curls out of his face. "What if I—I hurt you."

"What if you don't?"

It seemed he hadn't considered that possibility, because he fell silent, and averted his gaze to the ground. He shook his head after a beat. "I can't take that risk."

You stared at him for a moment longer, weighing up your options, before you sighed. "Fine. Don't." He said your name again. "No. If you're not willing to fight, then... then fine. Don't fight. But neither will I."

He didn't say anything as you took a step back from the room. And even as you stilled for a few seconds longer, achingly but silently begging him to ask you to stay, he didn't utter a word. Which was, really, all you needed in confirmation. 

And so you left.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[lnfours]

welcome home | l.n

summary: he finally asks you to move in with him

warnings: fluff, fluff and more fluff. i need him so bad.

masterlist | ask box

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

the sun shining through the curtains is what woke lando up, the smell of your perfume engulfing him when he lazily threw the pillow from your the other side of the bed. he had tried to go back to sleep, but failed. so, he threw the covers off his legs with a soft sigh, getting up and looking around the room for any sign of you, but you weren’t there. only your things remained on the dresser, your clothes folded in a pile on the top.

when he walked into the bathroom, your toothbrush was sitting next to his in the cup, your face wash and hair brush on the counter next to your overflowing makeup bag. he didn’t mind the mess. actually, he liked when you left things around. it gave the other wise empty apartment life. it was like you were leaving your own personal touches throughout his home, and he couldn’t help but smile at every single one.

the towel you had used to shower that morning was sitting on the rack, still damp. your shampoo, conditioner and body wash sitting on the built in shelf. it pulled at his heartstrings to see it, how he wished the things would find a permanent place rather than a temporary one every few weeks.

as he brushed his teeth, he racked his brain trying to think of where you had gone, but remembered that you mentioned something about getting brunch with a few friends. he had hoped you were having fun, much needed ‘girl time’, but all he wanted to do was crawl back into bed with you and continue the show the two of you had started the weekend before.

despite his feelings, he finally wandered into the kitchen. he smiled softly at the coffee cup sitting in the sink, the white mug stained with your lipstick on the rim. he could picture you fixing your lipstick in the mirror before walking out the door in a hurry, because you were almost always running late.

he made himself a cup of coffee, sitting down on the couch and scrolling through his phone. he saw that you had posted on your instagram story about an hour ago, a picture of you and your friends in the mirror of the bathroom at the cafe downtown.

girls day <3

his heart almost leapt into his throat at how brightly you were smiling. he caught himself smiling back at the photo, your smile being too infectious. he couldn’t help himself as he slid up on the picture, typing back a response.

can i be invited next time? i’m one of the girls 😕

he watched as your icon appeared in the chat, your side illuminating with the ‘typing…’ in the lower corner.

i think the girls would disagree, hun. i’ll be home soon, and then i’m all yours 🤍

he smiled softly, double tapping the message.

deal. have fun, baby ❤️

you double tapped his message in return and he swiped out of instagram, checking his email. when it was done refreshing, only one had caught his eye. he placed his coffee down on the table in front of him as he turned his entire focus to reading the email.

dear mr. norris,

i’d like to congratulate you as your offer for the home on willow lane has been approved! i’ll be in contact soon to talk about settlement and move-in dates.

in all, congratulations on being a homeowner! look forward to speaking with you!

best wishes,

sam parker

keller prime realty

“no way, mate!” he laughed softly.

max had decided to come downstairs at that exact time, “you alright?”

he nodded at his friend, “remember that house i showed you? the one i said i was debating on putting an offer on?”

max nodded, “yeah, what about it?”

“well, i may or may not have put an offer on it,” lando continued, “and it may or may not have gotten approved.”

max smiled, patting his best friend’s shoulder, “congrats, mate. when do you and y/n move in?”

lando’s face fell and max rolled his eyes, “you haven’t asked her yet? you literally just bought the house and you still haven’t asked her?”

lando bit down on his bottom lip, “it’s not that i don’t want to, it’s just, i don’t know if she’s on the same page. i mean, she spends the weekends here, but whenever i wake up on sundays she’s normally about to leave.”

max shook his head, “or what if it’s because you never told her how much you like her staying here? i mean, sure we both know you love having her without saying anything, but maybe she just needs that reassurance.”

lando nodded, catching onto what his best mate was on about, “and i haven’t reassured her…”

“right,” max nodded, “now you get it.”

“so, what? i’m just supposed to be like ‘hey, i love having you here so much that i bought a house for us to move into, if you want’?” lando joked, taking a sip from his mug.

max rolled his eyes, “not exactly like that, you div.”

the door opened and you smiled as you kicked your heels off by the door, the two boys’ eyes landing on yours, “hey,”

“hey,” max smiled.

lando smiled at you as your feet padded against the hardwood floor heading towards the kitchen, your keys and purse hanging on the hooks by the door, “how was brunch?”

“good,” you nodded, placing the white takeout box on the shelf in the fridge, “they had really good matcha lattes, i think you would’ve liked it.”

lando hummed, “maybe we can go sometime soon.”

you nodded, plopping next to him on the couch, chin leaning on his shoulder, “sounds good, baby.”

lando smiled and leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. you smiled into the kiss as max groaned, which only made you pull lando closer by his hoodie. you laughed when max fake gagged and got up from his seat, the both of you breaking apart and laughing as he made his way back up the stairs, “yep, that’s enough. sick of you two swapping spit near me.”

“cheers, mate,” lando called back up the stairs before looking over at you. you smiled at the brunette.

��what?”

he shook his head, “just thinking.”

your eyes found the curl that had fallen out of place, your fingers moving to brush it back, “about what?”

“how much i love having you here,” he said and your lips turned into a smile, “i have someone to annoy max with now.”

you giggled, “that’s my favorite pastime and you know that.”

he smiled, nodding, “i do.”

there was a moment of silence before he spoke up again, “do you like coming here?”

you furrowed your eyebrows, “of course i do. what makes you ask?”

he took in a deep breath before looking back at you, “i bought a house.”

his words came out all of a sudden and you looked at him confused, “you… bought a house?”

he nodded, swallowing before he continued, “for us.”

your heart skipped a beat as he looked down at you, softly smiling, “i found the perfect house, and i put an offer on it and it was accepted. i know i should’ve told you, but, i really really want you to move in with me. like yesterday,”

you laughed softly as he smiled, “when did you put an offer on it?”

“a few weeks ago,” he said, “i know i should’ve told you, but when i say it’s perfect it’s literally perfect. everytime i look at it i just keep seeing you dancing around the kitchen or us watching a movie in the living room, i don’t know…”

you placed your hand on his cheek, “i love you,”

he smiled back, “i love you, too,” his nose brushed against yours, “will you please move in with me.”

you brushed through the curls on the nape of his neck, biting down on your bottom lip as you tried your best to hold back the smile threatening to breakout on your face, “since you asked so nicely.”

he snorted before kissing you sweetly, pulling you into his lap. you giggled as he held you close, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“do you have any pictures?” you smiled against his lips. he nodded, reaching between the two of you before fishing his phone from the pocket of his hoodie. you watched as he pulled the listing up on his phone, a smile on his face as he handed it to you.

as you scrolled through the pictures and smiled about all the little things he had thought you’d like about the house, all he could think about was what you would look like in a white dress.

[ohtobeleah]

Day Eighteen [I Love You, Always]

Summary: When an unknown man comes into the cafe looking for who he calls “The Mutant” Logan’s world is once again turned upside down when you make the ultimate sacrifice.

Warnings: Logan Howlett x F!reader. Main character Death. Logan Whump. Mind Control. Possession.

Word Count: 5.1k

Whumptober Prompt Day Eighteen: Mind control, possession, “Everybody will end up despising you.”

Author Note: Please make sure you read the warnings provided. Disclaimer: I do not condone nor endorse the actions that are written about during the month of October. These works of fiction are just that, fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for this year's prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | ILYA Series

In the 1800’s, one of the most common reasons a woman visited the doctor was ‘Hysteria.’ A now-defunct diagnosis, hysteria was used to describe a wide array of symptoms: chest pain, anxiety, a swollen abdomen, and mood swings. They tried a variety of treatments for hysteria ranging from rest to psychosomatic therapy. 

But true relief for these women didn’t exist until physicians tried using what they called pelvic massage. The cure was called ‘Hysterical Paroxysm’ which today has come to be known as an orgasm. 

Modern medicine continues to recognise the stress-reducing benefits of the female orgasm. But doctors no longer perform the cure. 

When done properly and consensually, sex can be medicine. We know it reduces stress and strengthens the immune system. It even rejuvenates your brain activity. But sex without connection can leave you feeling empty. Friendship, laughter, simple human touch, are stress relievers too. 

Because truly, it’s about connection. When you’re physically close to another person the nervous system responds, the body is flooded with feel-good hormones, and everything else just fades away. 

“I specifically remember there being a no mutant policy behind the counter, Logan,” You cooed as Logan came barrelling right around the front counter of the cafe.

“You never put that in writing,” Logan growled as he immediately made a direct line to the little girl sitting on the floor babbling away to herself. “You can’t discriminate against senior citizens either.” He teased with a wink, knowing that the old man jokes hit you where it hurt. There was no secret there was a two-hundred-plus-year age gap between the two of you. 

“Ha ha,” You sighed as you went about your closing duties, having a look back at the days taking on the square machine. “For a senior citizen, you sure are looking good,” Logan raised an eyebrow as he momentarily turned his head over his shoulder to catch your gaze. Only to turn soon thereafter, his attention back to the little girl who had captivated his entire heart without ever so much as speaking a single word of grace. 

“Your mother is a serious flirt ya little Runt,” Logan teased as he picked your seven-month-old up off the floor. “She might have to clear her schedule later if she keeps it up, won’t she?” Logan cooed, knowing full well that the smile that crept itself across the little girl’s face had nothing to do with what he was saying, but rather from his presence. “Back in my day, they would have prescribed a pelvic message for your mother’s current condition,” Logan teased as he bounced Ilya on his hip playfully. “I'm no doctor, Runt, but I might have to perform one tonight.” Her slightly chunky self was ever so delighted to be in the safe embrace of the man she knew to be her guiding light in life. “How are my girls doing today?” 

That very question was one laced with love and admiration. Logan Howlett had lived a long, tortuous life. But in this new universe? He swore black and blue he’d found his forever home with two people he couldn’t live without. 

When you first met Logan Howlett, your first impression was that the brooding man in the booth off to the side, was going to be one of those customers who were more trouble than they were worth. He never wavered for the first few months. It was always the same interaction. Before you knew his name, you just knew him by his coffee order: One large black coffee, no sugar, no syrup, just bitter black coffee that could rival tar. 

“I see you’ve had the pleasure of meeting this ray of pure sunshine,” Wade was the connection, he’d come into the cafe one morning trailing behind the brooding man you’d come to know as a regular. The man with beautiful eyes full of torture and despair. The man with the aged appearance, the auburn locks, the dated clothes that smelt of burning embers and bourbon. A tortured poet if there ever was one. 

“Y/n, this is Logan–” It was nice to finally have a name to go with the face. “Sorry, he probably hasn’t introduced himself yet, he has a disorder,” 

“Would you shut the fuck up?” Logan growled under his breath as he fished his wallet out from the back pocket of his jeans. His eyes immediately softened when he met your gaze, drinking in the sight of you as you waited for the two of them to order. “I was going to, I just–I’m not,” You could tell that Logan was struggling to get the words out, you could see his mind racing around trying to find the right ones to say. 

“One black coffee, right?” You smiled softly, saving the enigma of a man from his latest version of hell. “What can I get for you, Wade?” 

“Surprise me. I’m feeling kinky so make it extra sweet,” Wade replied with a chipper smile. Wade’s antics never shocked you anymore. He’d become a regular over the years he found himself on Gore Street long before Logan had first stepped through your doors. Your humble little coffee shop sat nestled in the middle of the somewhat low-income neighbourhood. Coffee on Gore was seen as a wayward haven for the underprivileged in life. But no matter who walked through your front doors, they treated you with respect. You gave them a safe place to just breathe. A priceless commodity. 

“Coming right up,” You replied as you went about making Logans regular order and something sweet for Wade. It was only when you came out to their table that Logan spotted the name you had written on his takeaway cup. Before you’d never had a name to write on it, but now you did. 

Logan - The Brood 

The friendship only grew from there. Often you found yourself sitting across from the older man in silence. He’d speak infrequently, but always had the time to listen to you talk about your day, your achievements, your problems. Soon enough? Logan found himself in your little coffee shop every day. The coffee shop soon turned to your bedroom, your car, your kitchen, living room and bathroom. 

It wasn’t until your daughter turned six months old that he smelled the mutant blood that coursed through her veins. Little Ilya was a Howlett, but Logan never asked you about it. It didn’t matter when he’d been treating her like his own since he held your hand during her birth. He knew why you’d keep that card close to your chest. He’d been around the block a few times to understand that he wasn’t your average guy. 

“I’m the worst version of myself,” Logan could remember saying one night as you sat straddling his waist. “But I’m not a violent dog,” He swore in that moment he could see your silhouette draped in the belt of Orion. “I don’t know why I bite,” 

“How can you be the worst version of yourself? I only know this version,” You cooed as you carded your fingers through Logan’s hair, revelling in the deep hum that came from his chest at your touch. “You aren’t so bad,” You whispered softly. “Besides, I usually bet on losing dogs anyway.” 

“You better not tell me you love me right now, Darlin,” Logan replied, knowing that if you did, he’d say it back without hesitation. “I can’t have you being obsessed with me.” You could read between the lines with Logan, for you he was an open book on a public library shelf. He loved you, you loved him. Things were just……complicated, to say the very least. 

“Love you?” You teased as you leaned in to cup Logan’s scruff-covered cheeks. Cheeks that adorned a soft crimson. Caressing the pads of your thumbs over the harsh hairs. “Honey, I dunno if you’re that lucky,” 

“We’re good,” You smiled as a heat spread across your cheeks at the very thought of being one of Logan’s girls. “She’s been a little fussing today, but now you’re here I’m sure she’ll settle.” 

“Oh, is that so? We’ve been a fussy little monster huh?” Logan sat the little tot he knew deep down was his daughter on his hip as he came to stand behind you. He worked to sneak a gentle hand around your waist, drawing you back into him. Encapsulating you entirely. The aroma of your perfume captivated him wholeheartedly. A scent he’d never forget even if he tried. “It’s a good thing I’m here then, huh Darlin?” 

“You really are full of yourself, aren’t you?” You couldn’t help but chuckle and shake your head in soft defeat as Logan kissed your cheek tenderly. Only for you to crave more of his affection and chase after his lips over your shoulder. For a moment, time stood still as your tongue danced with Logan’s, your daughter gently clawed at Logan’s cheek as she tried to gain his undivided attention back on her. With his eyes and your nose, the perfect combination of the two of you, how could she be anything else?

“Ilya,” Logan cooed as the little girl he held tenderly slapped at his cheek, enough to coax a chuckle from deep within his old soul. “Okay, okay, sorry Darlin, this little one is in serious need of daddy-daughter time.” The second Logan pulled away, time began to move again. His touch brought you comfort, love, and desire. So much so that every night as you put your little girl to bed, you thought about what a life with Logan would be like. A life without the bureaucratic tape the two of you saw yourselves tangled in. A life without confusing titles, or uncertainty surrounding what you truly meant to one another. 

For now, though, friends with incredible benefits boarding on boyfriend and girlfriend status would just have to do. 

“Daughter and strange old man who keeps coming into her mum’s cafe, time.” You corrected Logan playfully, knowing full well he was her father. There was no one else who had your heart like Logan Howlett did. 

“Not the only place I keep cumming,” Logan was quick on the draw to fire right back as he raised his eyebrows and faked a shocked expression. “Who said that?” He grinned ear to ear as Ilya chuckled and held onto Logan’s flannel sleeve. 

“You’ve been hanging around Wade way too much for your own good,” If you had rolled your eyes any harder, you probably would have fallen over as you shook your head and returned to recording today’s takings. 

“He’s kinda the only friend I’ve got beside you. I don’t really have any choice in the matter,” It was the way Logan referred to Wade as a friend that made your heart swell inside your chest. To even say that word, to refer to someone as a friend, that was a lot. The man you loved unconditionally and unapologetically had come a long way in the time you’d been blessed to know him. 

“Who ever said I was your friend?” You sent Logan a shocked expression as he placed a hand over his heart. “Oh, who said that?” You followed up with a chuckle, looking around the empty cafe, twenty minutes until close. 

Logan let you win that one, he knew you had things to do for the next half an hour. He threw your daughter up into the air playfully and took a few strides back towards you. 

“I’ll leave you to work shall I?” The small little nod you gave him in response with the tight-lipped grin of agreeance was all Logan needed. “I’ve got the Runt,” He reminded you innocently as he pecked at your cheek before rounding the corner of the front counter, Ilya in his arms. “I’ll take you for a walk,”

Your little family may have been unconventional, but they were all you needed in life. The ring in Logan’s jeans weighed him down, so much so that if he were to go swimming, he’d sink to the very bottom. He was ready to take the leap. He wanted you forever. He wanted you and only you for the rest of his days here on earth. Labels didn’t matter to Logan, but he wanted the world, and the next, to know that you were his and he was yours. 

In hindsight, being dragged to this universe was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He had a daughter now, a tiny human that relied on him. He had a beautiful woman who loved him, although unconventional, Logan knew wholeheartedly that the love that ran through his veins was reciprocated in every breath you took. 

**************************

“Oh, I’m so sorry, but we’re closed,” There is a portion of the cerebral cortex of our brains, folded deep within an area between the temporal and frontal lobes. It’s called the insula, and it’s where desire starts. “We open at five-thirty in the morning though, if you want to come back another time?” You politely told the man who had come through the front door only a few seconds before you could make sure to lock it. He didn’t look a day past forty-five, but the smell of rotting flesh made you gag. When was the last time this guy had a shower or used any sort of soap?

“I’m not here for coffee, sweetheart,” We’d like to imagine that we’re in control, but more often than not, the chemicals in our brains control us. “I’m here for The Mutant,” 

The very mention of the word mutant had you on edge immediately. Not many people when around referring to people they knew like that here. It had the tiny little hairs on the back of your neck standing to attention. 

“The who?” The insula lights up, and we’re compelled to change our lives. Compelled by longing. Compelled by yearning. Compelled by a desire for more. “I don’t know anyone by the name of that.” It was the first thing that came to your mind, to deny deny deny. 

“You sure?” His wickedly evil smile told you all you needed to know. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, my dear,” The man grinned as he walked further into your cafe. “I know she’s been here recently, her scent is still lingering.” 

With the use of the pronoun ‘her’, your blood ran cold. No. She couldn’t be. Why had that thought never crossed your mind before? Your baby girl, half human, half mutant. You should have expected her to be just like her father. She was only a baby, just a little girl. She hadn’t shown any signs of being anything less than ordinary. But a switch inside you had flipped as your brain processed the new narrative you had just been exposed to. As you stood behind the counter, your eyes darkened with the very desire to protect your little girl at all costs. 

“If you were here for her father, there’s a small part of me that would have allowed you to try him,” You warned. “But you’ll have to go through not only me, but him, to get to her.” 

“So I guess we’re doing this the hard way then?” The man sighed as he looked up to the roof above. For a moment he stood still and closed his eyes, the silence that surrounded the two of you in your empty cafe was deafening. “I’d like a cup of coffee.” 

Before you knew what you were doing, you were going about making the man who had threatened to take your daughter a coffee. It felt like someone was inside your mind, dancing with your own desire. 

“You’re a telepath–” You asked as you went about making the man his coffee, an order you somehow already knew but had never made before. 

“You’re a perspective one, aren’t you, dear?” The man chuckled as he slid into the bar stool at the front counter. “Your daughter processes a unique genetic code, one that could see the beginning of a new generation of mutant children,” He explained as if it wasn’t a big deal. A life-changing exchange. “I need her for my collection of children, some would liken me to the Charles Xavier of the new generation,” 

“Over my dead body,” You hissed as you poured the fresh batch of coffee directly from the pot into the clean mug sitting in front of the man. 

“More–” He growled as he watched the coffee lap at the sides of the mug. No matter what, you couldn’t stop pouring no matter how hard you told yourself to stop. “More, dear,” He added, watching as you struggled to fight against your own actions. “Burn yourself, go on.” He snarled as you moved your hand under the steaming stream of fresh hot coffee. 

“Ahhhh!!” You screamed out in pain as the boiling liquid scolded the palm of your hand. But you couldn’t stop yourself, no matter how hard you tried. 

“Stop,” The man demanded. Immediately you stopped the coffee pot and raced over to the sink to cool your hand. Blisters appeared almost immediately. “You see, you can stand here all day and waste my time talking about how you’d never let me take what I came here to collect, but my dear I’m telling you right now, I’ll always get what I want.”

**************************

“Alright ya little Runt,’ Logan chuckled to himself as he held a bouquet in one hand and his daughter in the other. She could sit happily on her father’s hip all day. “You reckon your mother will like these?” 

There wasn’t much of a response from the little girl who was just happy to be out and about with her biggest protector. But as Logan rounded the corner towards the cafe, he could smell fear radiating down the block. 

Your fear…..

His stride got a little wider, his pace got a little quicker, and his heart rate jumped into the stratosphere with panic. Logan was on a mission to get back to you as quickly as he could. What could be happening back at the cafe to have you smelling with such fear, such panic, such fright? 

“I think we need to drop you off at Uncle Wade and Grandma Al’s house,” Logan spoke out loud to himself as he raced up the small set of stairs that led up to the townhouse Wade resided in. The best thing about the cafe was that it was within walking distance from where Logan usually laid his head down to rest. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe so I can go help Mum.” 

It wasn’t long before Logan was bursting through Wade’s front door, the small rundown apartment was enough for the three of them, but it wasn’t a place for a child. It would have to do for now until Logan knew what was wrong. He couldn’t risk taking Ilya back to the cafe, not with how much fear he could smell from down the block. 

“Wade!?” Logan growled as he looked around, dropping the bouquet on the ground as he did so. “Wade, you blistered fuck, where are you!?” 

“I’m banging your mother,” Wade called out as he rounded the corner, freshly showered with a towel hung long on his waist. “Hi honey, nice to see you too,” His demeanour immediately changed when he saw the worry on Logan’s face, the panic in his eyes. The fear in his old soul. “What’s going on? Why is the little crotch goblin in my house?” 

“Somethings wrong at the cafe,” Logan explained as he handed over his little girl. “Stay here, no matter what,” He ordered. “Do you understand me, you walking nut-sack? Don’t leave this house, don’t let go of her for anything.” 

“I’m all over it like a bad rash,” Wade said as he nodded in response and held his friend’s daughter in his arms. “Go, I got her.” 

**************************

The human body is full of energy. Sprinting at full speed, it produces enough wattage to power anything in your house. So just imagine the wattage, the magnitude of power that surged through Logan’s body as he raced down the street towards your humble cafe. The scent of fear was prevalent in the air around him. 

Your fear. 

“I’m coming, Darlin, I’m coming.” The human cells are built to move charged ions through the cellular membrane. And the nervous system is a highway of electrical signals, zapping through your muscles and brain. 

“Y/n!?” Logan shouted as he barged through the cafe door, eyes as dark as what he once thought his soul to be. Scanning around the somewhat trashed cafe, hoping, praying, to see you breathing. “Y/n! Darlin!? Where are you?” The silence was all Logan was met with as he took notice of the mess. You’d put up some sort of a fight at least. 

Chairs were knocked down haphazardly. Cutlery lay strewn around the cafe from the tops of tables that had been moved around. It wasn’t how you’d ever have the cafe looking on its worst day, even after that one time Wade brought a street brawl inside. 

“Logan,” Your voice was barely audible, but to Logan? He heard you loud and clear. 

Across the cafe, you laid in a pile of broken glass. Beaten. Bloodied. Bruised. Logan could feel his heart racing as the pain of seeing you in such a way took over his primal desire to kill whoever hurt you. 

“I’m here,” It was the first two words that Logan spoke as he crouched down to hold you in his arms. “I’m here, Darlin. Who–who did this to you? Who?” It was a charged question, who had done this to you? Your mind was fuzzy, like a grey cloud of fog had plagued your memory, your mind. 

“I–I don’t remember,” You coughed. Logan saw the blood that came up as he held you tight in his lap. Embraced in his arms where no one could ever hurt you. “You,” You struggled to speak as you fought off unconscious. Logan knew you were in a bad state, he could see it in the way your eyelids fluttered, “You need to–to leave.” 

“Why would you say that?” The human body runs on positive and negative charges, all obeying a basic law of physics… opposites attract. “I’m not going anywhere, you hear me?”

“Ah, The Wolverine,” There’s a lighting in everyone. Opposite charges find each other. They connect. They spark. And as long as they do, your life goes on. Your cells keep multiplying. Your brain keeps thinking. “What an honour.” Logan’s eyes left you only for a moment as he looked around the ruined cafe to see where the man’s voice had come from. 

“Who the fuck are you?” When Logan finally caught the man in his line of sight, he knew he had to let you go to protect you. 

“Me? I’m just a simple man who’s come to collect the next generation of your kind,” The man who’d turned your entire world upside down, explained to the love of your life as you struggled to stay conscious. “Y/n here, well, she’d a means to an inevitable end, unfortunately,” 

“Listen to me you piece of shit,” Logan growled as he stood in front of where he’d laid your badly injured self down. “No one hurts the people I love and gets away with it, do I make myself fucking clear, Dumpster-diver?” 

“Lo, don’t–” Your body wants to move, so it moves because it can. Life is electricity. Positive and negative. Creation and destruction. Destruction, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. “He, he wants Ilya.” You remembered as the cool tiles caressed your burning skin. 

“Smart woman you’ve got yourself, Wolverine,” The man with the rotting flesh and the undesirable stench of a thousand rotting corpses smiled ear to ear. He took a few steps towards where Logan stood protecting you. “But the smarter you are, the more you know,” He sighed. “Happiness is an unfortunate trap, my dear friend,” He chuckled to himself. “It can’t last forever. 

“Listen, bub, I’m not your friend,” Logan growled as the claws came out from between his knuckles. He was ready to fight for his family. The only family Logan had ever truly had. “You leave my family alone before you pay for your mistakes with your fucking life.” 

“Logan, Logan, Logan,” The man repeated to himself as he entered the mind of the adamantium man, rendering him completely under his possession. “Let’s say you’ve met the love of your life here,” Logan struggled to remain in control of his mind and body, but as he struggled, the more he realised he’d lost any ability to control himself or his thoughts. 

“Well, it’s gonna end, isn’t it? It’s inevitable… whether by the slow pull of a disease or the shock of loose footing on a hiking trail. Whether it be the corrosion of two personalities that reshape each other until they’re incompatible.” 

“What are you doing to me?” Logan growled as he turned back to face you lying in a pool of your own blood. “No, let me go!” Logan shouted as he dropped to his knees before you, truly breaking at the seams of his clothes trying to take back his own body. Fighting an invisible, powerful force controlling every fibre of his being. 

“The point is son, happiness always ends. The best-case scenario is that you die at the same time, but that would just be too easy, Logan.” Logan trembled as his mind was clouded with grey clouds until they were all he could see swirling in his line of sight. 

“Kill her,” He heard a voice whisper inside his mind, through the clouded fog. “Kill the very woman you love,” The man commanded as he smelled the familiar scent of a child mutant growing stronger with every passing second. “Everybody will end up despising you.”

Wade had begun to grow more and more concerned for his friends as he paced around the living room holding little Ilya in his arms. With hesitation and a whole lot of worry, Wade had left the safety of his humble apartment and headed on foot down towards the cafe. 

“Kill her,” The command was too strong for Logan to struggle against. He felt his claws dive deep into the torso of a body lying before him. Cluded with the grey fog, his mind told him he was in danger. “She's going to kill you. Kill her before she has the chance to kill you, Logan.” 

“AHHHH!!!” Your blood-curdling screams of unimaginable pain cleared the fog in Logan's mind as he felt himself regaining control. By the time he’d woken from where he’d been locked inside his own mind, his adamantium claws had slashed through your stomach, still buried deep inside your guts as he came back from the very darkness of his own mind. “Lo–” 

“Oh god,” Was all Logan managed to say as he retracted his claws and tried to stop your bleeding. “No, no no no no no,” The panic was all-consuming. The fear was unstoppable. “Y/n, Darlin, no fuck! I didn’t mean to,” Logan scooped you up into his arms as he tried to stop the blood from gushing from your wounds. Wounds he’d been forced to inflict on you, the love of his life. “NOO!” 

“Ke-keep,” You gagged on your own blood as you looked up at Logan, the man you loved for all his perfect faults. “Ilya,” It was hard to remain conscious, everything self so cold. “Safe,” 

“Don’t you leave me,” Logan cried as he shook and held you tight. Your blood was seeping into his jeans, his flannel, into his skin. “DON’T Y/N!” 

The ring of the font doorbell took Logan’s attention away from you for five seconds, but he never let you go. He watched as the man who’d done this to you walked out, following a scent he was bloodthirsty for.

“She’s yours, Lo,” You whispered as Logan returned all his undivided attention to you. “Ilya–” 

“I know,” Logan cried. He watched as his tears fell onto your blood-stained cheeks. “I’ve always known. I love you so much, Y/n, you can’t do this, you can’t leave me.” 

“Ilya, Logan, my love,” You tried to explain as you reached up to caress the bearded cheek of the love of your life. “I love you, always,” You had never told Logan what your daughter’s name stood for, but as those words left your mouth, Logan understood. “Protect her, promise me?” 

“I can’t lose you,” Logan cried as he leaned down to kiss your lips, they were cold to the touch. “Stay, stay with me, I love you, so much,” Logan knew you were fading, he could see it in your eyes. But denial had him in a chokehold that revenge couldn’t even pull him out of. “You’re the love of my life,” 

“I know,” Was all you said back as a peaceful calm washed over you. “Protect our daughter, Logan,” You whispered as blood pooled in your mouth. “I love you, always, but she n-needs you.” 

When you’re physically close to another person the nervous system responds, the body is flooded with feel-good hormones, and everything else just fades away. 

“But I need you!” Logan cried out as he watched your life fade from you. “Don’t go!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. “Y/n?” Logan shook you in his arms, waiting for you to wake up, begging the heavens above to give you back. “No! No! No no no Darlin come back, WAKE UP!” 

At the realisation that your soul had left your body, Logan broke. He cried and shouted and held your bloodied body until his instincts kicked in. He wasn’t sure how long he held you for, or how long he allowed himself to hate what he had been forced to do. But to you, Logan was the only version of him that you had ever known. 

To you? He wasn’t the worst Logan, he was simply Logan. 

“I love you,” He cooed as he kissed your lips and closed your eyelids. “I have to go save our baby girl,” Logan wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince himself to leave you or if he was letting you know that he’d be back. But either way, he left the ring he carried around in the back pocket of his jeans on your left ring finger.“I love you, always.”

**********************

[purinfelix]

hi!! I really love your work! I was wondering if you could do one where Gavi and the reader hate each other, but one day the reader had nobody to turn to so for some reason she found comfort with Gavi if that makes sense

i don't want to talk about anything ₊˚⊹ - pablo gavi

pairing: (academic rival) gavi x reader w/c: 1.5k a/n: ANON i love this idea and im sorry its been sitting in my inbox for so long - i decided to sort of involve it with the academic rivals fic i wrote, since it made sense to me, hope u don't mind! <3

No matter how many times you blinked, the words of your essay refused to stay still on the laptop in front of you, the feeling of your eyes growing tired only adding to your frustration. According to the irritatingly loud clock on the wall, you had been at the university library for almost five hours now, on top of an entire day of lectures and tutorials. Your head ached, and your mouth was dry ever since you had run out of water an hour ago but had been too engrossed in studying to go get more, and every time you closed your eyes you considered falling asleep right there and then. You hadn't even gone insane before, but you were pretty sure this was as close as you were going to get.

Forcing yourself to stand up you tried your best not to dwell on how unprepared you felt for your upcoming finals, or how many assignments you still had to finish. Even with how tired you were, your brain still managed enough energy to stress you out, even as you definitively shut the textbooks you had brought with you. You were more than aware of how childish this was, having thought you'd outgrown your ridiculous study methods years ago. But something about your recent dip in grade, how frustrated and helpless it made you feel, had spurred you into a frenzy you were too far into to stop. You couldn't recall the last spare hour you hadn't spent studying or the last conversation you had that hadn't been about exams.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder you reluctantly left the desk that had been your home for the majority of the evening. After a struggle, you managed to get the library doors open and were immediately. met with the miserably biting cold of the late winter night - the thought of the long trek back to your dorm room acting as salt in the wound. Your hands are already freezing as they dart into your jacket pocket in search of your phone, and you flick it on to check for any response to the many, many texts you had sent to your friends. Most of them were invited to study with you or questions about lectures, but all you were met with was a pathetically empty inbox, the reflection of your own tired face once it switched off, and the stinging realisation of just how isolated you had become, and how lonely you felt. Perhaps it was this, or the howling wind whipping around you, that caused tears to prick up in your eyes as you bit your lip painfully hard to stop them from falling.

You're overcome with a sudden desperation to get back to your dorm as quickly as possible before anyone can see you crying like an idiot. The added barrier of your own fatigue makes this difficult though, and the immense cold doesn't help. Before you know it though you're already halfway there, passing by the campus football court which is still brightly lit and lively despite how late it's getting - a fact you curse as you make out a familiar figure, and the single last person you want to see right now.

Gavi seems to spot you too and even though you hand your head to prevent any more tears, you can hear his loud footsteps as he leaves his friends and game to jog up to you. He calls out your name and the smug tone in his voice is enough for you to will your legs to move faster. When you don't stop, you hear him pause before running up to match your pace.

"Long day at the library, huh?" he jeers, walking beside you and clearly not taking any notice to the fact that you're not in the mood to entertain his ego. Usually, you would've jumped at the opportunity to flex your work ethic in his lazy face but not now, not with how you're feeling. All you wish is for him to leave you alone before he sees you crying and it gives him another thing to make fun of you for - but just as this entire day has turned out, your wishes are far from granted.

"You know, I did notice you've been slacking a little lately. Even I found the last quiz pretty easy and I could tell you struggled with it."

You scoff loudly at his words but don't offer a response in fear of him being able to tell something's off from the quiver you're bound to have. A small part of you does question why he's been paying so much attention to you lately but has little time to when you feel him reach out to grab your hand, suddenly jerking you back and stopping you in your tracks.

Finally, you crane your neck up without thinking and lock eyes with his, and you hear the next comment he was preparing catch in his throat. It happens so quickly that you almost don't notice it, but his smug expression softens immediately and you can almost make out the concern in his eyes once he sees your tear-stricken face. The contrast from the teasing way he normally looks at you is so stark it almost stops the flow of tears from your eyes, and you almost wish it had because now you're standing here sniffling like an idiot, and he's standing there watching you.

"Hey…" he mumbles, and the pity in his voice is enough to make you want to run away, even as he drops your hand. Still, you can tell he's not enjoying the awkward situation any more than you are but is trying his best.

"I'm fine," you blurt out instinctively, messily wiping the stream of tears from your cheeks before laughing - at what you're not entirely sure, but you're desperate for an opportunity to lighten the mood.

"You don't look it," he sounds so mature that it almost takes you aback.

You hang your head, half in shame and half so that you don't have to look into his eyes when you lie. "I'm just really tired."

It's almost irritating how sudden his movements can be and how easily they can catch you off guard, but his athleticism has never blended itself to subtlety. Still, it's hard not to be shocked when he pulls you once more and before you realise it you're enveloped in his arms, pulled flush against his chest. His body still radiates heat from the exercise he was just doing, a fact that you find comfort in. Before you can stop yourself, you're already sinking into his touch, its catharsis being exactly what you needed, but hadn't realised. You wrap your arms back around him and close your eyes as you rest your head against his chest. The rhythm of his heart is bold and quick as you listen to it, and you chalk this up to the exercise as well - an excuse you're not lucky enough to have for your own quickening heart.

He's the first to break the silence. "You're the smartest person I know, you know." He says it barely above a whisper, and he seems to be confessing more to the night sky than to you.

If you had just a little more pride in yourself, you might've met this with one of your usual jabs. Strangely enough though, all signs of the competitive nature you reserve for him have gone missing. Maybe it's because of your surprise that he seems to know exactly what you need to hear, but you're sure it's more because of how tired you are.

"Thank you," is all you can quietly muster up, but given how earnestly it comes out, you hope it'll be enough.

"I don't mean to stress you out, not just now but all the time. I'm sorry for that," he sighs, and you can tell without seeing his face that he really means it.

"It's alright, I appreciate it," you laugh softly, before adding, "sometimes."

He squeezes you a little harder and standing there in his arms, despite how mind-numbingly strange the situation is, you allow yourself to forget about some things for a bit. Forget about how late it is, about all the work you still have to do, about how you're not meant to like him at all, how you're hoping no one you know sees the two of you right now. For just a minute, the two of you share a world you had only gotten teasing glimpses of during your heated conversations in hallways, your quick comparisons after grades get released or quippy comebacks. Only now, not a single word needs to pass between you two - the sound of his beating heart and the strange sense of comfort that falls over you being all you need.

[thatacotargirl]

Shadows and Surprises (4)

Part 4 of Azriel x Reader fanfic! I hope you are all enjoying - please let me know your thoughts! I am going to try and post these chapters on Sundays from now on.

Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.

Warnings: pregnancy.

Tag list - @mirandasidefics @lilah-asteria @nyxbranwenn @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @impossibelle @mybestfriendmademe @minnieoo @hauntedstudentobservationus @st4r-girl-official

Azriel's POV

Azriel had absolutely no idea how this dinner was going to go. Truth be told, he expected you to politely decline and to take your dinner in your bedroom, give yourself some time to adjust to the change of pace your life had taken so suddenly that day. You surprised him once again - but that's what you seemed to do to him. Surprise him. You surprised him by taking an interest in him at Rita's that night, allowing him to tentatively approach you and offer to buy you a drink. You surprised him with a baby, his child. You surprised him by allowing him to not only be part of his child's life so easily, as if you hadn't only known him for a few drunken hours, and in turn, to be part of his life. He wasn't sure that his emotions had really settled down and processed the day - but he felt, deep down, that he quite liked your surprising nature.

Azriel offered you his arm and walked you slowly to the dining room in a comfortable silence; although he felt your body tense as you both approached the door and heard the laughter and chatter behind. He gave you a look - an offer to turn back - but you took a deep breath and nodded towards the door. Azriel opened it, and everyone went silent.

As you walked towards the 2 empty seats on the table, Cassian bounced out of his chair and walked towards y/n, giving her a bear hug.

"How are you feeling, y/n? Are you sure you're not too tired?" he asked, glancing down at your stomach. You chuckled. Y/n had no idea what she was in for living here with him and Cassian - both quickly becoming Mother Hens to y/n and the unborn child.

Y/n laughed in response, giving Cassian a gentle shove on the shoulder. "I'm fine, Cassian, thank you". You had seemed to ease quite a bit with Cassian's presence - perhaps because you felt you had more than one person in your corner. For some reason, Azriel felt a pang of jealousy at how quickly Cassian was able to put you at peace. He pushed the feeling down and guided you by the elbow to your seat.

Mor, however, had other plans - bounding over to y/n and pulling her back up out of her chair and into a hug.

"It is so nice to meet you, y/n! Azriel had a lot to say about you after your little tusk that night post-Rita's", Mor winked. Azriel went bright red, but y/n only laughed.

"Clearly he had a lot more than just things to say", y/n replied, gesturing at her stomach. There was a brief, silent pause; and Azriel held his breath. The pause broke almost immediately,though, as the entire table bursting out into a fit of laughter at your joke. Azriel felt himself relax a bit into his chair, feeling the initial awkward atmosphere dissipating.

Amren didn't stand, instead holding up her glass in gesture to y/n. "Pleasure to meet you", she calls out, taking a long gulp of her drink. Y/n replied kindly, and took her seat at the table. The House produced platters upon platters and everyone dished themselves a plate.

Dinner went forward as uneventful as it could have been. Jokes were passed, at Azriel's expense, and y/n was questioned relentlessly by Mor about her pregnancy and the baby, but there was a comfortable aura in the room and that was all he could have hoped for.

"Is it a boy or a girl?", Mor asked, having dragged her chair around the table after the meal to sit in front of y/n, her hands resting on y/n's swollen stomach.

"I have no idea! Madja said it is impossible to know, but there are some potential indications. I had a rough first trimester, which Madja said is more like a girl - but I also get headaches a lot - which is more like a boy".

"Az, what do you think?", Mor asked, her hands not leaving the small bump.

"I don't mind as long as they are healthy", he replied, watching in awe as Mor placed her head against the bump to try and listen in. Azriel realised that Mor was touching the baby bump before he had and felt that surge of jealousy rear its ugly head once more.

"And that they have wings", Cassian grinned.

"Ah, they do have wings", y/n replied nonchalantly, not realising quite how important that fact would be for the 3 males sat at the table. They all exchanged big smiles, thinking about the day they would be able to take Azriel's son or daughter, their nephew or niece, out to the forest to learn how to fly. Y/n looked up and smiled in response.

"For a 50/50 chance, we got lucky then", Cassian said, raising his own glass upwards in thanks to the Mother. Y/n smiled at him, but Azriel didn't miss the slight glassy-eyed look she had, the way her smile faltered if only for a millisecond and, when she recovered it, the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

Azriel watched as Mor peppered y/n with more questions about pregnancy and the baby, and noticed as y/n's shoulders began to sag slightly with exhaustion. You had also noticed that Rhys was more withdrawn than usual, offering his input into the conversation less than he would normally. Since he had come back from under the mountain, you knew there was something he was holding back, but never wanted to push your brother more than he was comfortable with. You had let him know you were there for him, and would wait.

"I think it's time we head up for the night", he said, standing and offering a hand to y/n. He saw the grateful look in your eye as you accepted.

"Thank you for a wonderful dinner", y/n said, giving Mor, Cassian and Rhys another hug each and Amren a small wave before walking to the door.

"Tomorrow?", Mor called after them. Y/n turned to give Mor a nod, and walked up the stairs ahead of Azriel.

"What's tomorrow?", he asked.

"Mor has asked me to go shopping with her for some maternity clothes and perhaps some bits for the baby. I know we have months to go, but we can't be too prepared I suppose. Plus, she was so excited, I didn't have the heart to turn her down".

Azriel felt the pang again. He hadn't even placed a hand on the swollen bump where his unborn child was growing, and Mor was already taking you shopping for baby items?

"Can I join?", he asked, before he could stop himself. Y/n faltered on the stairs.

"Would you want to?".

"Of course I would, why would you think I wouldn't?".

Y/n looked at the floor, cheeks blushing a deep red. "I just didn't think you'd be interested in going shopping". Azriel could tell that wasn't the real reason, but the deepness of the red your cheeks had gone told him that you weren't comfortable enough to share the reason just yet.

"I'd like to come, if that's ok", he replied, placing a hand on y/n's lower back to gentle guide their direction back towards the stairs and to their bedrooms.

"Yes, I'd like that", y/n replied, face still a deep shade of crimson. "Thank you for tonight, and for everything Az, I really appreciate it".

"You're more than welcome".

When he reached y/n's door, Azriel didn't know the correct way to say goodbye. Does he hug you? Offer you a kiss on the cheek? The hand? High-five you? He opted for a light squeeze on your bicep.

"Shout if you need anything".

Y/n nodded and departed behind the bedroom door, leaving Azriel alone in the hallway.

-

Y/N POV

"Mor. No", y/n said, watching Mor pull a slinky emerald green dress from the rack.

"What?! It says it's maternity!".

Y/n couldn't even grace Mor with a response. The dress, if it could even be called a dress, was just lines of emerald green velvet ribbon which showed off more than it covered. A beautiful dress, but not an everyday maternity dress.

They had been shopping for hours now, Azriel in tow holding the bags, and y/n had begun to get tired. With a beautiful new wardrobe of maternity clothes courtesy of Rhysand's card, it had been a successful shop. They had looked at baby items and started a list of things you would need, but they hadn't picked up anything to buy today. You were looking for the perfect first item to buy your baby and hadn't quite found it.

"I think I need to call it a day, Mor", you say, struggling to pull yourself up off the store sofa. Azriel and Mor rush to your side, each taking an arm and helping you to your feet. You chuckle.

"If I am this bad at only 4 months, wait until I'm 8". Mor laughs, but Azriel looks at you with a fierce expression on his face.

"Then I will carry you".

You gape at him, but Mor only laughs at how serious Azriel's face was.

"Az, she will be fine".

Azriel didn't look the slightest bit convinced. He picked up all the bags and followed you and Mor out of the shop and towards the House of Wind. Mor winnowed up, taking the bags with her, whilst Azriel flew you - careful to mind your stomach. You had noticed his apprehension about your stomach and it made you uneasy. He almost seemed, apprehensive, of it?

Once upstairs, Mor kissed your cheek and winnowed home, leaving you and Azriel. You left the bags in the living room, too tired to deal with them now, and made your way to your bedroom. You had just taken your makeup off and got yourself into bed when you hear a knock at the door.

"Come in".

Azriel walks in, a tray in hand. He places it next to you on the bed, and you are delighted to see it brimming with delicious food and your indigestion tonic. You pat the space next to you on the bed, inviting Azriel to join, and tuck in. You notice him walk over slowly, almost as if giving you an out to change your mind and send him away, before he sighed and climbed carefully on to the bed next to you. He watched as you finished the food he had prepared and took a dose of your tonic, settling back on the pillows.

"How are you feeling?", he asked.

"Tired, I didn't realise how exhausting it was to grow a baby. Everything hurts all the time".

"What is hurting now?" concern lacing his voice. You sigh.

"My legs, my feet, my lower back, my shoulders. Turns out carrying around another small human does a number on you".

Without a word, Azriel pulls the covers down from your body and moves to sit at the end of the bed. Taking your legs and placing them in his lap. He starts to rub them and you let out a contented grunt. You stay like that, in silence, for a while - Azriel taking the time to release the pressure you felt from a day of walking around the shops.

"Az?", you ask quietly. He looks to you and raises a brow.

"Why haven't you touched the bump?".

He stills.

"I- I didn't want to upset you or offend you".

You stare at him. Upset or offend you? It's just as much his child in there as it is yours! Your face softens as you take in his, his eyes longingly looking at the swelling.

"You can, Az".

Azriel moves slowly to sit next to you again. You see his scarred hands shake as he places them on his legs, as if considering how to do this. You know there is a story there, a traumatic one, but you don't want to push Azriel to tell. You see him reach one hand out and gently place it on the centre of your stomach, his eyes glancing to you to make sure you are ok with it. You nod, encouraging him to continue. He reaches out the other and cups your stomach. He stays there a while, looking both content and unsure all at once, before he looks to you and smiles.

"Thank you".

Your heart almost breaks.

"Az, you don't need to thank me. This is your child. You can do this any time you want". He nods, his stoic Spymaster face back on as he returns to the other end of the bed and picks your legs back up.

"Keep this up, Az, and I'm going to fall asleep".

He grins at you - "that's the aim".

You give him a half-lidded smile as you feel your eyes forcing themselves shut and your body sinking into the bed.

-

Azriel POV

Azriel keeps up his massage until your breathing becomes slow and steady. He looks up to see you sleeping peacefully, your hair fanned out across the pillows. He smiles, and glances down at your bump, still uncovered by the duvet and peeking out of your pyjama top.

He still hadn't wrapped his head around the fact that you were here, pregnant, with his child. He didn't think it would sink in for quite some time.

Slowly, he moves himself up the bed towards you, careful not to wake you, and places his hands gently on the bump. Resting his head on the bed, he turns to face your stomach.

"Hi baby, I'm your dad".

[lovelettersfromluna]

Wither

Summary: “you made flowers grow in my lungs and although they are beautiful I can’t fucking breath”

an: this one hurt, had sad music on LOOP the entire time.

Warnings: MDNI!!, 18+, SMUT, angst, Ellie doesn’t know how to communicate, reader is oblivious, mentions of marijuana, making out, dry humping, Ellie yells at reader, this one is a lil short sorry, lmk if I missed anything!!

You can read part 1 here!

Ellie was never the biggest fan of parties.

It’s pretty ironic that you and her ended up in a friend group that thrived off of shit like that. You guys were always out doing something stupid, or crashing a party to bum some weed off of someone.

But no matter how much she disliked parties, she wouldn’t ever pass one up with you.

Being with you outweighed any and all cons that came with parties.

She remembers it vividly. It was late, and the party had gone from a house full of buzzing college students to just a few people with some soft music playing in the background. Some were outside on the front porch, or in the backyard, leaving the living room to you and Ellie.

You were laying on the couch, your head resting on the arm of the chair while Ellie was sitting, your legs splayed over her lap, hands massaging your calf gently as she babysat the blunt perched between her lips for far too long.

You whined softly, looking over at her with glazed over eyes, your hand lazily reaching for the blunt between her lips.

“C’mon…you’re gonna smoke it all…” you huffed out, sitting up and scooting closer to your friend, promptly tugging the stick from between her mouth. She smirked, watching you as you took a drag from the blunt before you blew the smoke into the air, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you moved to rest your head against Ellie’s shoulder.

“These parties suck…just wanna be home with you…” she knew you were pouting just by the way the words fell off of your lips, all whiny and slurred. She gave your thigh a squeeze, the weed in her system making her feel much bolder had she’d been sober.

“I told you we should’ve stayed home…you don’t listen” she sighed softly as she recalled the way you were practically begging her to come with you to the party, knowing you would’ve been whining to her to take you home, just like you were now.

You huffed softly in annoyance, turning your head so that your face was pressed against the crook of her neck, your warm breath fanning across her skin and making her shiver, her mind far too hazy, body far too sensitive.

“Wanna go upstairs?” You asked her softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Ellie’s body froze up a bit at that, your words sounding far too much like something else, something that she’d dreamt about since she was old enough to even know about that kind of shit.

It sounds like you’re asking her to go upstairs, and fuck you.

And she knows that’s not what you meant. She knows that you just have this…way of speaking. It’s soft, and sultry, and you always pair it with that fucking giggle that literally makes her palms sweat and her stomach ache with butterflies so intense, she feels she might throw up, and it charms every fucking person you meet the second they lay eyes on you, and hear that sweet, dulcet tone fall from your pretty lips.

Ellie wished on every star that night that you actually meant it, and you weren’t just asking her if she wanted to crash at the house since you two were too high to go home, and it was too cold outside.

She couldn’t speak, of course she couldn’t speak, not when you asked her like that, so sweetly it makes her feel like her heart will burst right then and there.

So she simply nodded, giving your waist a gentle tap to single that she was right there with you. You squealed, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you quickly got up off her lap, and began dragging her up the stairs to an empty room for the two of you.

See? Every memory she had of you was like this, her following behind you, so eager and docile to follow your every move, your every command. If you asked Ellie to jump of a fucking bridge, she’d do it in a heart beat, no questions asked.

Where you went, Ellie followed.

She let out a dreamy sigh as she let you drag her to the bedroom, watching as you pushed between different people, slipped into dark hallways, all so you could find a room for the two of you before time ran out.

Ellie recalls the little noise of triumph that you let out when you found an empty room, quickly tugging her in and locking the door behind the both of you before you were passing by her to get into the bed.

She watched you, green eyes almost looking black with how blown out her pupils were. You always told Ellie that she reminded you of a cat when her eyes got like that, like those pretty brown cats with the emerald eyes? She never understood it, thinking that if anything she could be compared to a skinny, scraggly cat with fleas or something.

But nonetheless, she watched you. Watched as you crawled onto the bed after kicking off your sneakers, your movements almost animated with how perfect they were, free of any flaws. She watched the way your denim jeans stretched over your ass, your t-shirt hanging down around your hips, giving her a glimpse of your tits from behind, making her swallow thickly.

Ellie would never admit it, because she didn’t want anyone to think she was a pervert, but the amount of times she ogled at you had gotten out of hand.

You let out a soft huff when you turned around, your back falling against the bed as you stared up at the ceiling.

“I’m….Jesus Christ I am so fucking high, El…” you sighed out softly, a soft, dreamy giggle leaving your lips as your hand came up to rest over your eyes.

Ellie stood there like a statue, unable to even breath properly as she watched your t shirt pool at your waist, your soft skin peeking out above the waistband of your loose jeans.

God, she always loved that part of you.

It looked so soft, so inviting, eager to be touched, massaged, kissed…

Her lips yearned for your skin on her.

You hummed softly, moving your hand from your eyes and propping yourself up on your elbows. You watched Ellie with raised eyebrows, a soft giggle leaving your lips.

“You comin? Or are you gonna stand there all night and make me cuddle myself…” you pouted out, clearly teasing the girl.

Her cheeks burned red at your words, and it was enough to break her out of her trance of staring down at your body. She chuckled softly, her tattooed hand coming to rub the back of her neck awkwardly before she nodded, slowly walking over to the bed and kicking off her own shoes.

“Sorry…weeds got me fucked up…” she mumbled out softly, which earned a giggle from you.

“Mm…mhm…whatever, c’mere” you hummed softly, gripping her arm and tugging her up to you.

She remembers the way you spread your legs for her, tugging her between them to settle there, your warm body so inviting. She was scared to crush you, or to make you uncomfortable, but you seemingly didn’t give her a choice when you pulled her down to pressed her body against yours.

Your hands went up to lace in her hair, massaging her scalp, twirling the strands between your fingers. She could feel the way your chest rose and fell with each slow, deep breath.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be as comfortable around anyone like I am with you…” your words were a bit muffled since her ear was pressed against your chest, but she could still make everything out, your words still making her heart flutter.

Ellie hated that you were able to do that. You could tell her the most minuscule thing, and it would make her swoon.

But those things had a tendency to get far too deep whenever you were high.

She didn’t answer, instead letting out a small hum of agreement, which made you giggle.

“M’serious…you’re like….my person” you explained, voice so soft and quiet.

You always spoke to Ellie like she was the only person in the world, like you and here were the last people on earth.

She let out a gentle sigh before she lifted her head from your chest, coming face to face with you. She loved when you were like this, you looked so fucking…soft, like you were the very thing that dreams were made of.

“You’re so pretty, El…” It was clear that Ellie wasn’t the talker of the two of you. She watched you as you brought your fingers up to brush Ellie’s hair from her face, gently combing through her fringe with the most gentle touch.

You bit back a smile, as if a sudden idea had popped into your head. It was something mischievous, something you knew you shouldn’t have been thinking of, Ellie knew that look like that back of her fucking hand.

Your fingers went down to trace her lips, the outline of them, the top, the bottom, your eyes glimmering with something that Ellie couldn’t quite make out. It was so dark in the room, the shitty bedside lamp making her angry that she couldn’t see you better.

“Would you kiss me if I asked you to?” Your words were above a whisper, eyes flickering a bit as you stared at her. She could practically see the stars twinkling in your pretty eyes, and you weren’t even nervous. You showed no signs of second guessing yourself or the question you asked her, so confident in what Ellie would respond with.

Ellie on the other hand? Felt her heart stop the second she heard you.

She’d laid in her bed so many times before, dreaming of what it would feel like to have your lips pressed on hers. Every time she kissed another girl, she imagined that it was you. It was shitty on her end, she knew that, but what was she supposed to do? She’d been in love with you since she was a fucking kid.

There was no way she couldn’t compare those girls to you.

And she knew this was a fleeting moment, because you were both high, and it was probably her one chance at feeling what your lips are like, even if it is just a stupid moment between two best friends.

She doesn’t hesitate in pushing her body further up yours, pressing her lips to yours.

Ellie can feel sparks. She can feel the world stop. The way your lips smile against hers, the way you’re fingers tangle up in her hair, it all feels like everything in the world stops, like there’s nothing, and no one that could ever ruin the moment.

It makes ellie feel like she’s the only girl in the world, and it only further proves to her that if she can���t have you, she’d rather die alone.

She can’t help herself from deepening the kiss, pushing her tongue into your mouth. You started to moan, and whine against her, and Ellie was sure she’d never heard anything so fucking perfect. She’s sure that when she dies, she’ll hear the exact same thing.

Her knee was wedged between her legs, and her core was pressed against your thigh. She started grinding down into you, and it earns the sweetest fucking moan from you, and it made Ellie’s head fucking spin.

She could feel her core weeping onto the fabric of her underwear, and if she weren’t so high she’d be nervous that it was seeping out onto her jeans. But she can’t bring herself to care, not when your hips are jerking up and meeting her movements.

“Ellie..” you moaned out softly, and it made Ellie groan into your mouth.

“Fuck…you sound so good…” she sighed against your lips.

You were just as eager as she was.

Her hands came down to your waist, slipping under your shirt and massaging your soft skin while her tongue worked on yours.

She could taste you, all of you. The sound of your tongues lapping together made her want to do more, go further, make you feel better.

But she could feel your tongue slow down, and the sound of your giggle brought her back to earth.

“Slow down, cowgirl…don’t start something you can’t finish…” you sighed out breathlessly as you broke the kiss, resting your forehead against hers as your hands continued toying with her hair.

This made Ellie frown, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she stared down at.

“What? But I…” she tried, unknowing of what she’d even say to try and get her lips back on yours.

“I know baby…but you’re…”

Ellie remembers the way your words died off, how far off your eyes looked, the sad little smile playing on your lips.

“If we’re doing this…I want it to be because you actually want me…not cause you’re high” you explained, brushing her fringe from her face as you gave her a half smile.

And Ellie almost keeled over and died right then and there.

Because ever since you two had gotten old enough, you had laid in bed and explained to Ellie time and time again, how you despised the people who got high and looked to you for sex.

And while that was far from what she was doing, it looked pretty bad on Ellie’s end, anyways.

“No! No God, I swear that’s not what I’m doing. I would never-“ Ellie was quickly cut off by you pressing your lips to hers, and it was pathetic, but the moan she let out when you did was pitiful, like she’d melted as soon as you gave in to her.

“I know that’s not what you’re doing…you could never hurt me that way….” You assured her.

She watched as you settled back into the pillows beneath you, a soft, dreamy smile splayed out on your lips as you stared up at, watching her as if she were the most precious thing to you.

“Just…want it to be special when we do it…that’s all” your words were above a whisperer, and it was one of the rare times that Ellie saw you like that. So shy, so quiet, as if you were keeping the greatest secret between you and her.

That was the second thing you’d promised to Ellie. First, it was the promise that you’d marry her, then it was that you’d promised to give yourself to her.

Ellie could practically feel the most stupid, goofiest smile spread across her lips when you said that, because unlike the first time this happened, she’s able to look into your eyes, and you weren’t falling asleep seconds after admitting it to her.

You giggled softly, giving her a nudge, forcing her to lay down next to you.

“Wipe that smirk off your face…c’mon…I’m tired” you hummed softly as you tugged the covers over both of your bodies and scooted closer to Ellie. You pushed her arms apart before promptly wrapping them around your body, and hooked your thigh across her hip, keeping you as close as possible.

You let out a soft sigh as you pressed your nose to Ellie’s neck before giving her skin a gentle kiss.

“Love you so much, El…always will…” you hummed softly against her.

And as always, you made Ellie’s heart swell. She waits until she hears your breathing even out, and she knows your asleep before she pressed a gentle kiss to your head.

Because despite the promises you’ve made, and the things you’ve said, Ellie has been in love with you for a long time, and she knows that you don’t know…

“I love you too…more than you’ll ever know..” She sighed softly before she closed her eyes, trying her best to get some sleep.

It was on that night, that Ellie knew you were it for her…

Ellie let out a sigh as she leaned over the open window of her apartment, looking out at the city, watching the people below.

She had a little white stick perched between her lips, cupping one of her hands around it as she lit the end of it before taking a deep drag and blowing it out.

Ellie didn’t always smoke, it was a habit she’d picked up recently.

Her lungs were fucked anyways, no point in trying to save them now.

She coughed, her lungs rattling. It was such an ugly sound, and it made Ellie frown every single time it came out of her body. She had bags under her eyes, her lips were chapped and she looked all around like she’d been through hell within the last year.

You. You were her hell.

And it made it so much worse, because as much as Ellie’s body and soul yearned for you, wanting nothing more than to just talk to you, to just be with you…

She couldn’t.

Because Ellie was avoiding you.

She felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She sighed, reaching behind her and grabbing it. A low groan left her lips when her eyes settled on the name at the bottom of her screen.

It was you.

Hey El, are you okay? Haven’t heard from you in a while

Miss you :’)

The texts make a shiver run down Ellie’s spine, because she can practically hear your voice when she reads them. It’s laced with that soft, pouty little voice that you do whenever you miss her, whenever you’ve gone too long without hearing from her.

It’s the same tone that’s written in every single one of your texts that she’d ignored since she received your wedding invitation.

There was a string of them in your messages with Ellie, all from your end. They start out innocent, making it clear that you were absolutely clueless to the amount of pain and suffering that Ellie had been through from the moment she got the letter in the mail.

And as Ellie continued ignoring you, the texts became more frequent, turning into you asking her if she got the letter, and if she wanted to come with you to try on wedding dresses, to you begging her to respond to you.

It killed Ellie every single time a text from you came through.

She ignored it all. Texts, calls, she was sure you’d even reached out to her father to try and get to her, which she made sure to tell Joel to not tell you about her condition under any circumstances.

Ellie groaned, shoving her phone into her back pocket as she took another drag of her cigarette, letting the thick smoke fill up her sore lungs, burning her up from the inside.

Maybe she picked it up because the pain from the smoke distracted her from the pain that the flowers brought. The cigarettes made sense to her, it was a little stick filled with chemicals and bad shit that she really shouldn’t have been smoking.

The disease however, didn’t make any sense to her.

Ellie hated things that she couldn’t understand.

She let out a sigh, taking one more long drag before she put the cigarette out in her ashtray, no point in babysitting the thing for any longer.

The only real escape from all this nonsense that Ellie had, was sleep. With sleep, came an avoidance of the world, and what it was that was going on with her life.

With sleep, came dreams, and with dreams….

Came you.

Ellie dreams were the only place where she could have you. It was the only place that she could live in a world where you wanted her back, where she didn’t have to live with sore lungs and a trash bin filled with wilted flowers.

Ellie’s dreams were the only thing she looked forward these days.

She was going to go to bed, so she could enter a world where none of this had happened.

A world where you, were hers.

Soon enough, Ellie was in bed, wrapped up in her warm sheets, staring up at her ceiling as she waited for her eyes to grow heavy.

But her phone buzzing stopped that from even starting to happen.

She groaned, turning over and grabbing her phone, expecting it to be something stupid like a spam text.

But it wasn’t. It was you.

Again.

And the text that she read over made Ellie’s eyes widen in her skull.

Can I come over? I feel like you’re mad at me or something

The words ‘can I come over’ in your terms meant that you were most definitely coming over whether Ellie said it was okay or not, so she began to panic.

She quickly opened the message and began to text you back.

You can’t come over. I have a cold

Not mad at you

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for another message from you to come in.

Oh no!!

Should’ve said something. I could’ve taken care of you :(

Always so fucking selfless.

Your texts make Ellie’s heart tug, and she can practically feel another coughing fit coming on, a plethora of petals threatening to spill out and remind her of what she can’t have.

Another text comes in

Are you home? Can I call you?

Ellie knows she can’t run away from this one, not when she’s already responded, and she’s already knee deep into a conversation with you.

So she doesn’t respond, instead she presses your contact, and then presses the call button. She presses the phone to hear ear as she waits for you to answer.

And it doesn’t even ring two times before you’re answering. Ellie can almost see the way you eagerly press the green answer button on your phone, pressing the phone to your cheek.

“Hey…” Ellie rasps out, her voice hoarse from all the coughing she’d done. She barely recognizes the sound of her own voice.

“Ellie…” you sigh out her name, like it was the most reliving thing to hear the girls voice in so long.

The sound of her name rolling of your tongue makes Ellie smile like a stupid teenager talking to their crush for the first time.

“Hey bug…” Ellie sighed out softly, which earns the sweetest giggle from your end, the sound like music to Ellie’s years.

“Where have you been El…” you don’t waste time in getting to the nitty gritty, your voice dropping a bit, and Ellie knows you’re pouting wherever you are.

And maybe that’s what makes Ellie’s heart wither, because you sound so fucking devastated with the sudden disappearance of her, like you’re the one that’s been suffering, and not her. It makes Ellie feel like she’s ripped everything away everything that you’ve ever known and ever loved.

It sounds like you’re the one who’s suffering from an unrequited love.

“I um…been busy…sorry” it’s a sorry excuse that mumbles past her lips, and Ellie swears she can hear a gentle sniffle from your end of the phone.

“You haven’t even…you haven’t said anything about the wedding…are you even-“ you sob, and Ellie knows your fucking crying.

If it was on any other day, she would’ve cried with you. Her chin would’ve started wobbling, and her eyes would’ve welled up with tears and she would’ve sobbed over the phone with you, breaking down and telling you everything that she’s been through, that she loves you and she’s suffering without you.

But it isn’t just any other day…

And there’s something about you mentioning the wedding, that sets Ellie off.

“Im not coming to your wedding” she deadpans, the brunette filled with an overwhelming sense of anger at the mention of the ceremony.

“What, I….you’re not?” You whimper out softly.

But the sound doesn’t bring Ellie back to earth. If anything, it prompts her to go further.

“Other people have lives, okay? We can’t just all live in a fantasy world of weddings like you. I have shit to do, and I would’ve hoped that my lack of communication would’ve given you a clue, but clearly you’re too fucking dense to catch onto anything” she spits out.

Her words are hateful, and they fall from her tongue like venom dripping through the phone lines, burning you from the other end.

You simply whimper in response, your sniffles becoming more frequent, and Ellie knows she’s done it.

She’s made you fucking cry.

“Lose my fucking number, alright?” She spits out before she hangs up the phone, not leaving you any opportunity to respond, to fight back and question where the outburst came from.

Ellie knows where it came from. The sadness and sorrow that she’s held in her heart for so long was beginning to turn into anger, it was burning her, turning her into someone she never wanted to become, not with you.

She let it take over her, swallowing her up and spitting her out to become someone that was filled with hate, resentment towards you and your stupid fucking finance that wasn’t her.

She hated you for something you couldn’t control.

When she tosses her phone to the side, she begins coughing. It’s similar to the coughing fit she had the night she received your invitation, however it’s different. It’s dry, and it burns and it makes her eyes water, the tears she felt prickling at the back of her throat when she was screaming at you finally coming out.

And as she hunches over in her bed, gasping for air, fighting against the wicked cough that had plagued her for so many days and so many nights, the petals begin to come up.

When she finally comes to, and she looks down at the mess of petals on her bed, between her legs, she sees something she hasn’t seen throughout the entire duration of her illness.

The petals that came up, were different.

They were withered, wilted.

Ellie’s flowers, were beginning to die.

[sanjisboyfie]

shanks being your doting boyfriend

(slightly himbo) shanks x male reader

NOT PROOFREAD mb. small, slight manga spoilers??? sorry guys + LMFAO i hadto ctrl + f every single time i used "arms" and switch it to "arm" also im so soorrryyyy its kinda rlly short.....forgive me also idc???? if this seems ooc to me shanks is just a silly lil guy.

— oh god. the power you hold. you actually singlehandedly could change the course of the entire one piece universe if you wanted to. why??? because one of the four emperors of the sea follows everrything you say like a lost puppy. he hangs off of every word that leaves your lips with a dumb, lovesick grin on his face. his head is empty, just thoughts of you. good thing you use this power of yours for good and keep this man HUMBLE.

"[name], can you please tell your idiot boyfriend to just do the dishes, i can't-"

"beckkkkkk, why are you bothering me and my boyfriend's personal time together?" shanks whined, little spooning his way into your side. his stubble was scratching your skin, making you itchy around your neck and shoulder, especially with the way he was so aggressively nuzzling his head. "we haven't even woken up yet,"

"yeah, and you were supposed to be on cleaning duty last night and you instead chose to spend that time coddling [name], so look where we are now,"

"i'm the captain, goddammit! why do i have to do something like cleaning duty?"

"ask [name], he made that rule,"

shanks' aggressive demeanor turned into putty as he pouted at you. it was not a fitting expression for someone that had a reputation like his and also his age (too old to be acting like a kid).

"babbbbyyy, why are you making us spend less time together? is it because you hate me?"

"shanks, just go fucking do some cleaning in the kitchen. it's a shit show and it's pissing me and the chefs off. get a grip, babe," you scolded, pushing his pouting face away from your own.

with a look of hesitation, shanks finally backed off and got out of bed. as he was putting on a proper pair of trousers on, he was muttering about his own boyfriend was bullying him. his comments went ignored by both you and beck — who was watching with a look of disbelief on his face.

to see his best friend, captain, and one of the four emperors of the sea so easily swayed into doing chores was something he doesn't think he'd ever get used to. no matter how long you and shanks have been together, seeing the red head so obediently follow orders was infathomable.

— shanks -> really intimidating status as captain of the red hair pirates -> turns into complete mush when you walk into the room. without fail, he physically deflates into whatever seat he's sitting in and holds his arm out to you invitingly, waiting for you to sit on his lap.

shanks was supposed to be in serious mode. he was sitting in front of some pretty high ranked marine officials, who were after his crews' heads. he wasn't the type to hold hostages, just to let them go back running to their navy base, but considering the crew was on a vacation of sorts, he needed to know how they were able to track them down.

it lingered in his mind that there was a chance there was a mole in their ranks, but he didn't want to accept that as it would be a painful reality.

"so, how did you know we'd be at this island to recover?" shanks questioned, eyes glaring holes into the marines' faces. they were shaking where they sat, except for one who tried holding a tough demeanor. "i'm not going to do anything to you if you just answer my question,"

just as the marine was about to spill all their information out, the door of the room they were in was slammed open. shanks' haki faltered slightly as he was able to recognize that it was you, and with that imbalance, it sent the marine officers over the edge and made them pass out instead.

you took in the scene, bleakly apologizing for interuppting. shanks didn't have the heart to scold you, so instead he just took you into his arm with a wide grin and said, "no, no, it's alright. i was beginning to miss you anyway, doll. was wondering why you weren't with me," he pouted into your skin, making you laugh.

"turns out one of the lackeys you let on board recently was the reason why these guys showed up out of nowhere," you informed your lover, who hummed in interest, "took a while, but was able to get him to crack under pressure."

shanks sighed in content, hugging you even tighter, "i love you so much, you're so sexy when you take control,"

another laugh escaped your lips as you heard your boyfriend almost drunkenly sing you praises, "it was nothing, the guy had zero resolve anyway,"

"you're so amazing, baby," he continued complimenting into your skin, acting as if there weren't three passed out marine officers in front of you two.

a couple of the lackeys of the crew came bounding into the room and almost froze when they saw their intimidating captain cuddling into your side like an eager puppy.

"u-uhm, captain?" shanks only hummed in acknowledgement as he held you tight to his side. "what do you want us to do with these guys and that bastard traitor?"

"oh, just keep them tied up and then leave them on the shore when we depart — they probably won't survive with all the wildlife around here," shanks hummed, waving his hand dismissively. you were standing in between his legs and he was relishing in the skinship you were allowing him.

"should we tell the rest that we will be setting sail soon then?"

this time you interjected, "yeah, i'll come with you, boys. i'll make moving the bodies easier."

the crew's face lightened up at your familiar kind behavior, but then stiffened when they heard a groan coming from shanks.

"but [name]!! these guys got it, just stay with me longer, please,"

"oh, shut up, idiot. just go back to the main event and lift up the spirits of our crew, they probably wanna hear words from their captain after such a traitorous bastard infiltrated us,"

shanks sighed at your mini lecture, but dragged himself to follow your footsteps. he was holding onto your hand and his feet were practically stomping into the wood.

"who even made me captain, i never asked for this," he sighed, making the crew weakly laugh to fill the awkward silence while you just tried apologizing for your boyfriend, and captain's, idiotic behavior.

— shanks really cherishes the alone time he can spend with you. living your lives as highly wanted pirates makes your daily life hectic. and, thankfully, the foundations of your relationship only led to you two being able to keep that strong trust, respect, and love for each other so alive.

it was nighttime and the ship was rocking ever so slightly with the waves. for once, you switched cuddling positions and had your head resting on shanks' chest. your fingers were drawing mindless shapes on the exposed skin while shanks' arm was squeezing your plushy flesh every now and then.

"you know, i love you so much, right?" he confessed into the night air, the genuineness of his emotions being made obvious with how softly he spoke.

"i love you too," you easily said back, not thinking twice.

"but, do you know i love you?" shanks repeated, sitting up and holding onto your waist to make sure all your attention was directed on him, "i know our lives don't make our lifestyle easier and i know i get really busy when times get rough, but i needed to tell you again that i love you so much [name]."

you grinned at his sincerity, leaning forward and pressing a soft, gentle kiss to his chapped lips. he reciprocated in a second's notice, but you pulled away before he could deepen it (as he usually did whenever you two kissed).

"i know you love me shanks, you are the sweetest lover i can think of. your kindness and humanity remind me everyday that this life is worth living if it's with you," shanks smiled at your words, nudging his forehead against yours to entice you to pull in closer to him.

your lips locked once more in a passionate filled kiss. your bare chests were now skin to skin with one another and it took a couple minutes of desperate kissing for shanks to be satisfied.

and when you finally pulled away and settled back onto his chest, he squeezed you once more and asked, "you've had other lovers besides me?" in reference to what you said earlier.

cue an eyeroll and pinch to his sides to make him shut his pretty mouth for some needed peace and quiet.

[rxmqnova]

Thinking about yn and Wanda broke up, it wasn't messy or anything bad, It was the right person, wrong time.

Wanda is a writer, signing her first important contract and releasing her first book. People liked the book and she was getting famous, and before her first event, she was thinking if Yn is gonna be there or not, when they were together, Yn promised she will be there no matter what, and even if she had to quit her job, she will be there but now, she wasn't sure if her ex girlfriend will be there, they werent even text each other, they needed some space but they missed each other.

When the event started, Wanda was looking if she can see yn in there or not, but she couldn't see her, but she was there, wearing a blue cap, almost at the end Wanda was looking again and they made eye contact and Wanda was smiling at her.

So when everything finished, Yn went to where Wanda was and they were hugged and Yn told her about she Will never break a promise and that she is so proud of her. They missed each other and told the other the same thing, and they went to Wanda's house and talked about how much they want to be together again.

Author event

NO ONE'S POV "I promise I'll be there, Wands. Even if that meant quitting my job, I will be there" Thinking about her ex-girlfriends words, Wanda lets out a sad sigh.

Back then Wanda only just signed her first ever very important contract and released a book which people actually really liked and now Wanda's about to attend her first ever author event.

It's been a few months since Y/N and Wanda broke up, yet the writer still wonders if Y/N will fulfill her promise and come to the event.

To be honest… she really wishes Y/N will and she will have a chance to see her ex-girlfriend again.

They were a perfect match for each other, but unfortunately it was a wrong time for them. Y/N got an important job offer, something she's been waiting for ever since she started working for the company.

It required Y/N to move to another city though and Wanda didn't want her girlfriend to just drop the offer she'd been waiting her entire life for and let her go.

The event eventually starts and Wanda has some talk about the book first. Of course she can't help but look around every single moment she can to see if Y/N isn't here by any chance.

Then comes the book signing and quite a long line forms. That doesn't stop Wanda from looking around though, hoping Y/N would just magically appear.

And then the miracle happens and Wanda locks eyes with a girl in a blue cap, immediately recognizing the face.

Wanda smiles warmly, the nerves finally coming down when Y/N's actually here.

When the endless line comes to an end and everyone leaves, Wanda lets out a sigh when she realizes Y/N's not here anymore. The whole place is empty… or not?

"Could I get an autograph, miss Maximoff?" Y/N teases, placing Wanda's book on the table in front of the writer, immediately bringing smile to Wanda's face.

"Y/N, you came" Wanda pulls her ex-girlfriend in for a tight hug without wasting any more second which makes Y/N let out a chuckle actually.

"Yeah, I did. Hi" Y/N smiles as soon as they pull away, staring into the green eyes she's missed so much.

"Hi" Wanda nearly whispers, biting her lower lip as she's staring back into Y/N's eyes. "I'm glad you're here"

"Of course I am. I promised to come and I never break my promises. I'm really proud of you, Wands. I've read the book, it's really amazing" Y/N smiles warmly, Wanda's cheeks going red.

"Thank you" Wanda says, smiling back. "Hey, don't you wanna come to my apartment? We can have a glass of wine and catch up on everything?"

"Oh, sure. That sounds great" Y/N nods at Wanda's suggestion, watching as Wanda packs her things quickly.

Wanda doesn't live that far from where the event took place, so the walk is quite short.

And as soon as the girls arrive to Wanda's place, Y/N can't help but smile as it looks still the same as the last time she was here.

While Y/N sits down on the couch, Wanda goes to pour them the glasses of wine as she promised earlier. She's back soon, joining Y/N and handing her one of the glasses.

"Can I be honest with you, Y/N?" Wanda sighs, wanting to get it off her chest.

"Of course" Y/N nods, watching the other girl confused and wondering what she's about to say.

"… I really miss you, Y/N. And I know that your work is really important to you and that you've dreamt about that position for a long time. But the few months since we broke up have been the worst months of my life and I just miss you so much" Wanda sighs, squeezing her eyes shut and hoping Y/N won't just leave after what she just told her.

Y/N can't help but let out a small laugh. It's just incredible how perfect the two are for each other.

"What's so funny?" Wanda asks, tilting her head in confusion.

"I just… I came to tell you the same. I quit my job. I guess I just can't be without you. I missed you so much, Wands" Y/N admits, slowly taking Wanda's hand in hers and giving her knuckles a rub.

"You quit your job for me?" Wanda asks in shock, looking at the other girl with wide eyes.

"Yeah. I don't think it's possible for me to live without you, Wanda. And it wasn't as good as I thought it would be anyway" Y/N admits, letting out an akward chuckle.

Wanda smiles, placing hers and Y/N's glass on the coffee table before pulling Y/N in for a hug, closing her eyes and enjoying the warm embrace.

"I love you, Y/N" Wanda nearly whispers, still not believing this is happening.

"I love you too, Wanda" Y/N tells her back, meaning every single word and feeling exactly the same as Wanda. "Will you go on a date with me?"

"Of course I will!" Wanda chuckles, cupping Y/N's cheeks with her palms and rubbing her cheeks with her thumbs.

She knows one thing for sure now… no matter what has life prepared for them, she's not letting Y/N ever again.

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

Wanda Maximoff masterlist

Masterlist

[caplanbuckybarnes]

CheaterCheaterBestFriendEater

Summary: After you'd gotten drunk with Tony one night when Steve was away on a mission, you never expected to be heartbroken I the morning.

Warnings: cheating, an abortion (not descriptive, just a brief mention of one), cheater!reader, pisse!steve (honestly, he should have been way more raged lol)

Word Count: 879

@saiilorstars sent in a GIF for a drabble. I'm going to do the Bucky one as well. Sorry, it's late, LOL.

Read on Ao3!

---

You knew from the look in his eyes that he was pissed. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to see that. You’d accidentally sent a text message to him that was meant entirely for someone else. Which, in retrospect, shouldn’t have been a problem. Expect that the text message revealed that you were pregnant.

And it couldn’t have been Steve’s. 

He had been on a mission with the Avengers and Guardians, tracking down half-devoured worlds to help restore them. He had been gone for over two months when you texted him this revealing information.

You felt lonely. You felt depressed. You were alone in the compound with Tony and Bucky. All it took was one lonely and drunk night to find yourself waltzing into Tony’s room first and seducing him, to promise that you wouldn’t tell a soul about your little escapades that night. But little had you known of the consequences. You could have sworn you took your birth control pill that morning. 

But as you looked at the tablet, the day’s previous one was still sealed shut. You waited several days before texting Tony while he ran errands with Bucky before letting him know. But of course, you had clicked on Steve’s pinned message on your phone without thinking before typing the message:

How the fuck am I supposed to fucking tell Steve, who is my goddamn BOYFRIEND, that I slept with one of his best friends and got pregnant? What the actual fuck, Tony?

It was with horror that you realised you’d sent the message to the wrong pinned message. You knew Steve would be arriving home shortly, so you’d been waiting for him on the house porch the four of you shared for bonding.

As he approached you, you stood up, swallowing the vomit that wanted to splatter all over the ground in front of you. “Do you have something you need to get off your chest, Y/N?”

“I’m glad to see you back, Steve,” you smiled at him shyly, not knowing what he was thinking. You always hated it when he was angered. He almost almost shut down his emotions when he was enraged. 

“Is Tony here? Bucky?” He asked, looking past you into the open door, down the house's hallway.

“They’re out getting dinner for all of us,” you swallowed the vomit down once again. You wished he’d just \look\ at you, for fuck’s sake. “Steve, I-”

“Save it,” he demanded, staring at you with pure disgust. “I’ll talk with Tony and see what he says, and I swear to god, if this was a mutual event, you’re not going to like the person I become.” Before you could say a single word in reply, he stormed past you, almost knocking into your shoulder as he leapt up the stairs in one motion.

--

Later that night, you stayed in the bed you shared with Steve, glancing at his empty side every few seconds. He and Tony had gone on a car ride hours earlier, leaving you and Bucky alone in the house. You knew you had fucked up. You knew you were in the wrong. You only hoped that Steve wouldn’t hurt Tony in the process.

Unable to sleep, even hours later, you finally decided to leave the bed and roam into the kitchen downstairs, only to find Tony sitting at the table with an empty beer bottle cradled in between his clasped hands.

“Tony?” you spoke, causing him to lift his head and stare at you. “Where’s Steve?”

“Out in the back chopping wood, I think,” he answered, surprisingly sober. “I told him you promised me you’d abort the damn thing. It was the only way to save both of our asses. It was a drunken mistake, and it never should have happened.” 

“Tony-”

“I’m calling T’challa in the morning to see about transporting you to Wakanda for a few days. Steve had the idea, not me, so don’t yell at me over it. I suggest you go pack about a week’s worth of clothes.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Tony,” you made to go to the back door before Tony stood up to block your way. “He needs sleep, Tony, and so do you and me. I can’t let him keep doing this.”

“Why not?” he replied. "We need the wood for the fireplace anyway. He didn’t kill me, so I think we’re both winning in this situation. Now go pack. I'll have Bucky drive you to the airport in the morning. Shuri will be picking you up from there."

There was no use in arguing with the man. Upstairs, you went to grab a large bag from your closet before going into the closet again and grabbing several outfits for the time you'll be staying in Wakanda.

--

You stayed in Wakanda for almost two months before Steve finally reached out to you with apologies and a desire to return home. He'd said he was deeply upset at your mistrust and still loved you. All you wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms again.

Another few days passed before you were woken up from your sleep to see Steve standing before your bed, holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers.

"It's time to go home, Y/N."

[heartfullofleeches]

Hopping Ship

Yan Rival Restaurant Mascot + G.N Reader + Yan Restaurant Entities

Slow day....

Right in the middle of lunch hour too-

Scarce to see the restaurant so empty like this nowadays. After starting the new shift, you genuinely began to ponder if you'd finally lost your hearing due to the one-sided shouting matches from customers before realizing there had been a single since you clocked in and the silence surrounding you was very much real.

With so much free time, you finally got around to completing some tasks you'd be putting on the back burner for a while and a few you picked up while the janitor was out on personal business. They were gone every other week of the month, but you stopped wondering where they went after seeing them crawl into a black van one night after closing shit. It's impolite to watch coworkers who appear to be wearing your missing coat drag trash bags into unmarked vehicles after midnight.

You swept the floors, decorated the back office with some of the flowers the mascot left you and read a couple of their letters, created a sign out for the bathroom succubus to please at least put a towel beneath the door when she went on of her many "mandatory smoke breaks", and other duties which staked your claim as the establishment's most valued, living employee - all accommodating in the treat you rewarded yourself with once your break rolled around.

Sitted at the back of the fridge, behind the cooler you kept your gifted deer kidneys from the crying figure in the woods - a single fruit cup shined in all its syrupy glory. You tended to avoid eating coworkers food until their names appeared in the papers, but this little delight was stapled with a friendly letter for whoever came across it.

"For you~ (yes, the one reading this)"

That in itself should've been warning enough, but you were too hungry to care and not really in the mood for greasy fast food or ice cream from a bastard ghost. It was the perfect snack. Tiered with fruits representing all colors of the rainbow separated by rich, fluffy cream you assumed to be whipped frosting or some type of yogurt.

Snagging the cup and a spoon from the dispensery, you head back to the front to eat just in case anyone shows up. First bite in and you immediately notice something off about what you've just willingly ingested. What should've a sweet, succulent strawberry tasted exactly like strawberry cheesecake. The creaminess of its taste compared to its snappy texture threw you off entirely. You nibbled on an apple slice which tasted just like pie. Not exactly what you were going for, but you needed something on your stomach. Mindlessly chewing away, a faint hiss comes from beneath the counter.

"Psssst."

Must be another gas leak.

"Y/n - down here!"

You almost wish it had.

Peering underneath, you make contact with the frantic eyes of a former coworker. His face was caked in mud and his lips cracked from the clear signs of dehydration. You grab a cup of water from the soda machine which he near inhales, plastic and all. You take your seat back at the counter, poking around at your cup. "Hey, Noah. What happened to you last we I thought you the storyteller told you to go get lost in the forest and get eaten by bears."

"I was a boyscout growing up and all the predator animals in this area are dead. Get down - it'll see you!"

"What will?"

He tugs on your sleeve. "The rabbit thing that's been throwing everyone into that van! It's right outside!"

"Mm?"

Sucking a cube of peach cobbler off your spoon - you you peer outsife where another mascot stood - gloved hand extended a with flyer to the customer approaching the the door. The anthropomorphic rabbit was dressed in a red and white hybrid of a nurse gown and a 50s waitress outfit down to the pastel skates it wore on its large feet.. When the customer ignores the paper and went out of their way to walk around the strange figure, the creature dropped the flyer as it clasped its hand around their neck and hurls them into the open van beside it. Slamming the door on their ankle - the rabbit suddenly bends backwards with an audible crack facing the register as its ears dangle at its feet, waving at you with its Cheshire grin. You chase a grape around the container with your spoon.

"They seem friendly."

Noah pulls harder on your clothes. "Quiet! We need to call the police."

"Mmm... nah, they never respond to any of our calls anyway."

He groans into his hands. "Ughh- Ojay, we'll figure something out - just, don't make look that thing in the eye.

Bit too late for that.

The rabbit mascot had scaled the restaurant floor in about the same time it too you to swallow the bland frosting that served as a palate cleaner for the tooth rotting sweetness. It contorts to match your height, button nose inches from yours.

"Hello, hello, he-llo - where have you been hiding?~ I was looking for you. "

".... Hey, Noah? Can you actually try the police to see if they'll show up this time?"

The rabbit chuckles. "Funny too. I knew you were a catch from the second I laid eyes on you. That's why I had to make sure our first meeting was special and there were no..." Its eyes fall to the counter." prying eyes... Anywho! Did you enjoy the fruits I left for you?"

You shrug, mouth full of sugary melon. "I guess."

"Fantastic! Those at my establishment prioritize a healthy, and tasty lifestyle. I certainly hope you don't mind us treading on your territory, but it was the only spot in town fit for our dream. If all things go according to plan, you won't have to worry about the competition at all! Onto my big question - would you care to join our team? An experienced crewmate like yourself is just what we need and if you start this afternoon - I'll even make you manager! Even deal, wouldn't you say?"

"....not really."

"Great!-...." Its ears fall flat against its skill. I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I kinda like it here. Bring manager sounds like I'd have to do more work than I do now, and the the ball pit is a big factor to why I stay.

Soft clapping sounds from the play area. Confused, he mascot looks between your face and your half eaten cup. "Are you sure?"

You shrug again. "Pretty sure I am."

"Maybe take another bite and think about it harder?"

LYou shove the remaining bits of fruit in your mouth, using the time to chew as your grace period. "Positive."

"I see...." The rabbit's whiskers twitch as it snaps back to full height, spinning on their wheels towards the door. "No matter. I will be back for you another day with an offer you won't be able to refuse. Until then."

You look at the floor as they skate away. "I think it's leaving, Noah.... Noah?"

"Help me!"

You glance back up in time to see Noah being dragged outside and flung into the van as his captor grumbles something about just using sleeping pills next time. You official cross him off the schedule as you throw the cup away.

"If they'd just offer me their skates - I probably would've said yes."

You lick the spoon clsan as the ice cream machine whirls to life.

"Cheater!"

"Oh shut up."

[voicesknewmyghosts]

Take A Piece Of Me With You

MINORS DNI  18+ ONLY

Synopsis: Tara finally has you alone.

TW: rough sex, Top Tara, Bottom Reader. 

They are consenting adults in a kinky relationship, they both have safewords and have discussed scenes previously. 

Finally. The apartment is empty. No Sam, no Chad, no Mindy. The silence is almost…deafening, considering how loud this place has been over the months with everyone living together and having game nights and dinners together. Tara places her bag down on the table and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes and basking in the silence that has fallen over the apartment. 

It’s been a crazy few months evading Ghostface once again and trying to settle into a somewhat normal life as a college student. You had been her constant throughout it all; her beautiful girlfriend, someone who stood by her even when her anger seemed to get the best of her; someone who served as the buffer between her and her sister Sam; someone who made her feel safe, calm and like the world might still have good people left in it. 

Tara wasn’t one to be the soppy person in a relationship; especially after Amber and the betrayal she experienced; but when you walked into her life? It felt like something had slotted back into place. The anger that had been bubbling at the surface ready to explode dissipated any time you smiled at her. The lonely nights spent shaking after nightmares of being attacked became non-existent with you being there every single time to hold her through any bad night she had. 

You had become her rock, and she wanted to repay you with something only she could give you. 

Looking at her watch, Tara estimated she had around 30 minutes before you got home, so she quickly got to work, getting everything ready for when you walked in the door. She wanted this night to be perfect, and she was going to do everything in her power to ensure it was. 

You’ve had a long day. Your eyes feel heavy, your body feels like you’re dragging it through mud, and all you want to do is collapse into the arms of your girlfriend and let her take it all away. Except, when you walk into your apartment, she’s nowhere to be found. This strikes you as odd, and after the last couple months of being stalked by a killer; you’re high on edge. You quietly put your bag down on the floor and call out for Tara, reaching for the knife on the counter top only to breathe a sigh of relief when she replies. 

You head to the bedroom, heart rate only just returning to normal until you see your Tara; your beautiful, stunning, sexy Tara sat on the bed in the most wonderful set of red lingerie you’ve ever set your eyes on. She looks at you with hooded eyes, and does something that causes your entire brain to short circuit.

She licks her lips. 

Tara outstretches her hand, crooking her pointing finger and beckons you forward. You feel as if you’re on the end of the leash and she’s pulling you to her; all bodily autonomy is forgotten as your legs start moving before your brain even knows what’s happening. 

“There’s my pretty girl.” She mumbles, hands already feeling their way down your arms, squeezing the muscles she feels there. She’s staring into your soul, her dark eyes are blown with lust and the way she’s sitting on the side of the bed with her legs wrapped around yours keeping you pinned in is singlehandedly going to end you, you’re sure of it. And that’s not even including the way her voice has dropped a few octaves. 

Tara Carpenter is going to be the death of you. You just hope it happens after what she has planned. 

“I know we haven’t had time to ourselves lately.” She says, hands still feeling their way around you, electrifying every cell in your body. “I want to make it up to you, my princess. Do you think you can let me do that?” 

No words are capable of being formed in your already hazy mind. A quick, frantic nod makes the girl in front of you chuckle before she stands, hands either side of your face, pulling you down to meet her. 

She places the softest of kisses to your lips, taking her time exploring how you taste, how your lips feel against hers. You place your hands on her hips, gently squeezing and rubbing your thumbs in circles over her skin. 

You could spend forever like this; lost in the feel of Tara’s lips against yours, her hands caressing your face, the soft skin of her hips underneath your fingertips. You completely forget everything that’s happened the last few months; you forget the hard day you had and just let yourself get lost in Tara. 

You don’t even notice she’s started turning you around until you’re pushed onto the bed, tripping over your own feet as you fall backwards onto the soft covers. You don’t even have time to ask Tara what she’s doing before she’s on top of you, using what little body weight she has to pin you under her, keeping you from being able to move. 

Her hands pin yours above your head, her legs pin yours down. You try wriggling only to be met with no movement at all. Tara has you completely at her mercy, and you’re certainly not complaining. 

“There. Don’t you look so perfect like that? Completely at my mercy?” 

Her voice is teasing as she peers down at you. Her eyes are boring holes into your soul, her gaze is so intense it makes you try to squirm away from the attention. Except, she doesn’t allow that. She tsks at you when you try to wriggle away from her penetrating gaze while pushing you further into the bed. 

“Come on now my pretty girl, no need to get shy. I just want to make you feel good.” 

Tara leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss so ferocious your breath is knocked out of your lungs and the heat between your legs becomes unbearable. You whine into her mouth, trying to push your hips up into hers, desperately searching for some kind of friction. 

Tara allows it for a moment; a fleeting moment where you’re able to grind against her leg filling you with the pleasure you’re so desperate for. And then she pulls away, and you have never groaned so loud in your life, whining like a pathetic puppy waiting for their owner's attention. 

The devil above you chuckles as she drags her tongue down your neck, sucking your skin in between her teeth as she leaves marks as dark as the night sky so everyone can see just who the needy mess beneath her belongs to. 

If you were in any kind of right mind you might have told her not to mark you so hard, wanting to save the humiliation of attempting and - ultimately - failing to hide the bruises she leaves all over your neck from the other people in your life. But your mind feels empty; like you’re floating away to another dimension the more Tara sucks and nibbles and bites you. 

You feel her hands caressing your ribs under your shirt, her nimble fingers drawing gasps from you with every gentle pattern she draws on your sensitive skin. Within seconds Tara has sat up above you and ripped off your shirt and bra, leaving you exposed and vulnerable to her ministrations.  Without a pause for breath her mouth is on your chest; her teeth nibbling, her tongue dancing and leaving wet, warm trails all over your skin. Your hands are still pinned; something you’re desperately beginning to fight so that you can feel the devil above you’s skin against yours; so you can scratch marks as red as blood down her back as she tears you apart and builds you back together. You want her to feel how good she makes you feel; you want her to have marks that remind her of what she can do to you. 

Your whining and pathetic attempts to fight the girl’s grip on your arms must have finally gotten through to Tara because she smirks while letting your skin go with a pop from its prison in her mouth. 

“You want to feel me too, hm?” Her eyes are so dark you can’t see the beautiful brown you normally get lost in, and all you can do to answer her is a frantic nod. 

You realise - even though your mind is so lost in the depths of subspace and being at the mercy of someone who has the ability to simultaneously destroy you completely and build you back stronger than you’ve ever been - that you must look like a pathetic, trembling, whining mess of somebody who prides themselves on being an independent, strong woman. You realise that you should probably try to save yourself the humiliation of being Tara’s little play toy, and yet, at the same time, you realise that giving Tara this control over you is just as powerful as being the one in control. You feel safe with this woman, but you are giving her the freedom to do whatever she wants to you; anything at all, and you would be powerless to stop her. And that, in itself, is freeing. 

And then Tara takes her bra off and all thoughts - however fleeting, disappear into the void as she finally lets your hands go. 

Jolts of electricity hit your wet cunt as she takes your nipple into her mouth and gently sucks, swirling her tongue around the sensitive bud. You use your newfound freedom to scratch deep marks into her naked back, making her groan and tremble beneath your touch. You wrap your still clothed legs around her back, drawing her ever closer to you, not wanting to risk her trying to move away from you. 

“Tara, please baby.” You are fully aware of how pathetic you sound, but right now, you couldn’t care less. “Please baby touch me.” 

Your voice is breathy and high pitched, but you’re only greeted with a smirk wrapped around your nipple.

“Patience my pet.” Tara practically purrs as she takes her sweet time trailing her tongue down your chest and to your stomach. “Good girls get rewarded, but you have to be patient.” 

You almost cum on the spot as her fingers hook into your pants and finally, finally expose your dripping pussy to the cold air. 

Your head suddenly feels so heavy as you watch Tara lick her lips as she lowers her mouth level with your cunt. 

“Oh my babygirl you are so wet for me.” She purrs, slipping a finger easily through your soaked folds. You can’t help the choked moan that is ripped from your throat the moment you feel Tara’s hot breath against your clit, and you can’t help reaching your hands down to hold her head where you need her most. 

She obliges, nipping her tongue out to draw soft, gentle circles around your clit. Her nails dig crescent shaped holes into your thighs as she holds your legs down, still wanting you to feel restrained even if she’s allowing you the mercy of holding onto her hair. You can’t keep your head up to look at her any longer so you drop it down to the pillow and allow your girl to take care of you.

You’re certain Tara was a torturer in a past life. Her ability to tease you until you’re crying and sobbing for her to finally push you over the edge is unnerving to say the least. Her tongue against your clit and her practiced movements are carefully planned to keep you just slowly coming towards the edge at a pace so leisurely it’s agonising.

“Tara, please-” 

A sharp stinging pain against your bare thigh silences whatever begging you were about to do, and when you risk a glance down at the devil between your legs you’re greeted with a stern look that soaks the sheets beneath you with your wetness. 

You decide that trying to get Tara to listen to you is a losing battle, and so you do the only thing you can think of:

You grab her head and grind.

Big mistake.

It’s shocking to you; just how much strength this five foot nothing girl holds in her tiny body. You always find yourself enamoured by it; whether it’s watching her play soccer with friends, or going to the gym together, or play fighting at home.

But you don’t think you’ve ever been this shocked at her hidden strength.

She has you bent over her lap in a split second; all wriggling legs and frantic hands desperately trying to find a grip on the unwaivering rock holding you down. 

Sharp stinging pains begin to erupt from your upturned bottom; every hit is measured and placed perfectly to produce the maximum amount of pain. Blood rushes to your head; you don’t even hear the loud thwack of Tara’s palm colliding with your exposed skin that echoes around the otherwise silent room. You don’t even realise you’re crying out with every spank until Tara is shoving your underwear into your mouth with a promise to make you regret it if you were to dare to spit it out. 

“I told you,” she punctuates every word with a hard spank, making the stinging pain in your bottom become near unbearable, “patient, good girls get rewarded. It appears you are neither a patient nor a good girl.” 

She lays ten more hard, powerful spanks to your behind before placing your numb, lifeless body on the bed then disappearing somewhere out of sight. You would call out for her if your mind wasn’t as fuzzy as it is, if you didn’t feel like you were floating through clouds on your way to a different heavenly dimension. Instead you lie still, basking in the weightless feeling coursing through your body, content to just take whatever Tara has planned for you. 

You can feel her eyes on your exposed body. You can feel her rake her stare over the skin that’s glistening with sweat in front of her, admiring the state she’s managed to put you in. You feel the bed dip as she climbs on top of you, and when you look up you’re face to face with the person who managed to tear you apart and leave you a trembling, uncomfortably wet mess with no ability to form thoughts. 

The smirk she gives you leaves a sticky mess between your legs.

“How do you feel, pretty girl?” She asks you with concern as she leans down to pepper kisses on your forehead.

“Good.” You manage to croak out, trying to convey through eye contact alone just how much you need Tara inside of you and how much you need her now.

“Oh? Is someone a little desperate, hm?” She teases, beginning the torturous trail of her tongue slowly down your body once again. You try to reach for her; beg her to touch you but your limbs feel like they're encased in concrete and so, deciding (for once) to be her good girl, you lie your head down and relax, much to the delight of the woman currently swirling her tongue through your wet folds.

“That’s my good girl.” She cooes. “Now, I’m going to fuck you like you’ve begging me for, and you are going to take it like my good girl, or I will spank you until you physically can’t take it anymore. Understand?” 

The frantic nodding of your head makes the little devil chuckle, and she doesn’t give you any time to change your mind before she takes your clit into her mouth, sucking it and licking it like her life depends on it. 

The moans that are escaping your mouth are grotesque to say the least; but you can’t stop them, not when Tara is spreading you open and plunging two fingers deep into your heat, fucking you with such abandon that you think she’s going to split you apart from the inside out. Her lips are still wrapped around your clit, her tongue moving at a steady pace and you feel yourself tumble over the edge with a scream, the pleasure coursing through your body already feeling like it's too much to handle. 

You want to catch your breath, let the orgasm ride its way out of your body, but you’re not given that privilege. Instead, your legs are thrown over Tara’s shoulders and she’s entering you with your favourite strap, stretching your tight walls around its length, not letting you adjust before she’s ramming into you hard, using your hips as leverage to get herself as deep as possible. 

You’re certain if she manages she to keep this up for much longer you’re going to pass out, and you do try to tell her you don’t think you can handle the pace but the dark look she gives you is enough to make you keep your mouth, knowing the consequences if you can’t take what she gives you. 

And so you lie there, legs spread lewdly apart, your pussy squelching with every rough movement of your girlfriend’s hips. You fall over the cliff much less graciously than before when she reaches down to play with your clit, gasps and groans being ripped from your throat as dark spots begin to appear at the edges of your vision.

Your body is so numb you can’t even tell when Tara flips you on your front, pulling at your hips to put you onto all fours, and then she’s pushing inside of you once more and slamming her hips into yours. She grabs onto your ponytail, wrapping the roots of your hair around her fingers and pulls. 

Two things happen at once: first, your walls constrict almost painfully once more as the nimble fingers circling your very sensitive clit push you over the cliff into yet another climax, second; Tara pushes your head down into the mattress and ruts into you like a bitch in heat, slamming her hips as hard and as fast as she can.

You can’t take it. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body goes completely limp, the ache in your cunt from the rough fucking is pushed so far to the back of your mind you can almost forget its there. You can hear Tara grunting next to your ear - a tell tale sign she’s about to cum - but it sounds like she’s 100 miles away, your senses have numbed, the world around you has become distant and far away, lost to your hazy mind.

“One more babygirl, one more for me.” Tara grunts into your ear. You can tell she’s close by the way her hips are losing their rhythm and she’s getting rougher with every stroke. You focus on the sensation of her expertly hitting that spongy spot inside of you, focus on the dominating weight of her lying on your back as she ruts into you, nails scratching angry red marks into your back as she uses your skin for leverage. 

And then you’re screaming; the constriction of your already battered cunt so painful your head goes foggy, and you let yourself get lost into the haziness as your heavy eyes close and the world goes dark.

You wake to the feeling of warmth surrounding every muscle of your body. Gentle hands are carefully running a soft cloth down your legs, cleaning up the mess she made. You’re so sore, so stiff, and the feeling of even the gentlest of touches down there makes you groan and shift away. 

“Hello sleepy head.” The devil in disguise greets you, leaning down to place a soft kiss to your forehead. You can only groan in response, but you reach out for her, desperate to have something to hold onto as you begin to crash back down to Earth.

“I’m sorry I went so rough, are you okay?” You can hear the concern in her voice and do everything you can to reassure her you’re okay without words, looking up at her with big soft eyes trying to convey every emotion you’re feeling right now. She seems to understand and thanks you with a sleepy smile and a kiss to your lips. 

“I’m going to finish cleaning you up, then I’ll get you out of the bath and we can put a movie on?” You nod in response, letting your eyes close as your girl takes care of you, letting her do what she needs to after a rough scene to make sure you’re okay.

You drift off as the warm water lulls you into a peaceful sleep, and Tara can’t help but admire your sleeping form. 

She picks you up carefully so as not to wake you, dries you off as best she can, gently places you onto the fresh sheets on your bed and grabs water and snacks before joining you back in the bed. She sits there for a while holding you close to her, admiring the marks she left all over you and the way you look so peaceful curled up in her arms.

Tara doesn’t know what she did in life to deserve you, but if she’s sure of one thing; she’ll do everything she can to earn the right to call you hers.

[harryforvogue]

Lucia looks around the kitchen confused. Her tired eyes narrow in on one spot of the counter, but when she finds it empty, she whirls around to look at Harry sadly. He’s directly behind her, leaning against the opposite counter, raising his eyebrows in question.

“You didn’t make my coffee?” she asks quietly.

Harry, who is holding his own cup, says, “Have some water first.”

“So you did make it.”

“Have some water first.”

“And then you’ll make it afterwards?”

Lucía ignores this and instead flies over to the fridge, She opens it, sticking her head in to peer quickly. To his dismay, her coffee is still not waiting for her, and when she shuts the door, Harry has remained by the counter, eyebrows still raised, but now with a soft smile on his lips.

“You didn't make it at all,” Lucía accuses. 

Harry shrugs. “Maybe you’ll find out after you’ve had a glass of water. I can’t remember the last time I saw you drink some other than coffee, tea, and lemonade."

“You watch me way too closely.”

The smile widens. “I am entirely guilty of that, yes.”

Lucía feels her eyes on him as she looks through all the cabinets, the sink, the microwave, and even the dishwasher. It's way too early to be moving this much, but she has incentive!

She goes to leave the kitchen, but Harry stops her with a quick grab of a single curl from the back of her head. "Ow!"

"Stay here."

Harry finally pushes off the counter, setting his coffee down with a meaningful look, and then heads to the cabinet with all the glasses. He picks out the largest glass and then pours water (nearly to the brim!) from the filtered jug. Harry starts to walk it over to her, but stops himself when she gives him a frown. He doesn’t set it aside though.

Instead, he puts a straw in it and offers it to her. “See, now it’s fun,” Harry says, eyes twinkling. 

“Fun,” Lucía deadpans.

“Mhm. Go on. And then you get your coffee.”

“Which you still have to make.”

She takes the glass and with his now free hand, Harry twirls a strand of her curly hair around his fingers. “Do I, Luce?”

“Unless you’ve hid it in a very good spot,” Lucía says. 

"Drink."

Harry watches as she finishes all the water. Half way through, she discards the straw, realizing she’ll finish it quicker with large gulps instead. Once she’s done, she wipes her mouth, presses the glass back into Harry’s hands, and looks at him.

Just before he walks away with the glass, he absently wipes his thumb over the corner of her mouth to catch some residue, and then he murmurs, “Good. Thank you, baby.”

The coffee is hidden inside the air fryer directly in front of her. The cup sits there unbothered, slotted perfectly without any liquid needing to be jostled about. Harry removes the cup and presents it to her, grinning. Before she takes it, Harry removes it from her reach, holding it above his head making it impossible for her to grab.

She frowns deeply at him, crossing her arms in disapproval to show that she will not be jumping to grab it out of his hand. Harry takes a noisy sip from his own coffee.

Then, he leans down. “Give me a kiss.”

“No.”

He grins. “No?”

“No.”

“Okay.” He brings her coffee down to level and takes a sip. 

Lucía grows annoyed. Harry’s sips are equivalent to a normal person’s chug. “Stop! You don’t even like my coffee.”

Sure enough, Harry’s face is contorted with dislike. “It’s so strong.”

“Give it back.”

“Give me a kiss.”

“Give it to me first.”

"No."

"I demand you give it to me."

Harry takes another sip in response, shrugging. Again, another wince. He is committed though.

Beyond irritated, Lucía walks to him, places her hands on his stomach and leans up to kiss him. She feels his triumphant smile in their kiss, his warm lips taking hers as perfect as always. Though his hands are full, he loops his arm around her waist and pulls her close, bringing her along with him as he leans his back on the counter. After his shower, he’s left his hair loose, so the damp curls tickle the sides of her face, and his eyelashes (too long for a regular human) brush her cheeks.

When he pulls away, he looks satisfied. “Thank you,” he repeats, bringing her coffee to her. "Was that so hard? You'd think it's a chore to kiss your own boyfriend good morning."

She takes it before he can change his mind. Instead of holding onto her annoyance, she turns around and slots herself between his arms, leaning against his strong frame as she takes a sip and melts into him. Harry’s arms are immediately around her, his chin on her shoulder.

“I cannot believe you would think I made my own coffee but not yours,” he murmurs, turning his head to kiss her cheek. The singular one doesn’t seem to be enough, and soon he descends into a pattern, repeatedly kissing her cheek and jaw, all ranging in intensity and force. 

“I didn’t really believe it.” Lucía tilts her head the other way to bare her neck so that he can continue down. Though it tickles, she steels her nerves and continues to drink her coffee. After a few kisses to her now naked shoulder, her shirt neckline pulled down, she giggles.

“I love you,” Harry murmurs, lips behind her ear. Then he squeezes her so tight to his chest, she whines, trying to elbow him off. He does not relent. “My baby. Would you stop trying to get away from me?"

[lanitalay]

At sea pt. 2

Rhysand x reader

a/n: I am terrible at naming fics lol

word count:1.4k warnings: none

Part 1

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

You can’t control your face as your eyes widen and your mouth gapes at the news. 

“Oh…” is all you managed to say as an emptiness creeps up to your throat. He was your friend and nothing more. You had never so much as pecked the High Lord. There was no reason for such a reaction from you. It should not have shocked you, either. He would have had to marry eventually and the renegade daughter of an unstable sailor would not do anything to strengthen the court. “She accepted the proposal?” 

“Beron did”

That was another thing to consider. The High Lord of Autumn was well known for his cruelty. You could only imagine the life his only daughter had lived so far. Marrying Rhysand would be a mercy. It would grant her his protection, give her an escape from her rotten father. So being upset by the news was entirely selfish. You could not protest.  It would take every single one of your efforts to move on. But for the sake of the war, for the sake of maintaining peace amongst the courts and for helping a helpless female you would grit your teeth and accept that the attraction you felt to the male standing before you was hopeless.

“Congratulations are in order then, High Lord” you say with whatever smile you could muster. 

“I-” he begins but stops, looking away from you. His eyes remain on the drawings on the book in front of you and the air feels heavy with something bigger than your own sorrow. A few heartbeats later he returns his gaze to yours and offers you a solemn grin “thank you”. 

Weeks pass by as you catalog each new finding from your travels. Paula, your head researcher, was happy with the outcome of the expedition but that only meant more work for you as she asked you to write a meticulous article for each sample being cataloged. By the end of the day your hands were cramped and your writing was barely legible. The exhaustion was also mental, but that was more than welcome because in a few short days your High Lord would be marrying a princess. You were grateful for the fatigue as you reached your bed and collapsed into a dreamless sleep night after night. 

“All I’m saying is that you don’t have to marry her” Mor’s voice bounces off the walls of Rhysands study. 

“There is no other way, cousin. Ever since the situation with Eris the Autumn Court has refused diplomatic relations. We need their fire wielders and their footmen to stand a chance against Hybern” the blonde sighs, exasperated. They have had this discussion plenty of times before. 

“You could hold off the wedding until after the war. Once everything is settled you can break it off” 

“Beron made it clear his compliance is reliant on us getting married before the leaves begin to brown” 

“You don’t love her! She’s basically a child Rhysand and you’d be condemning the rest of your life to be spent with a female who is not right for you” he massaged his temples as he listened to the same arguments she had been making since the announcement. 

“As High Lord I need to make sacrifices for the well being of the court. This is the price I must pay” 

“Cousin, please” 

“Mor, I can’t keep having this conversation” she heaves a breath and leaves the room. The slam of the door rattling the painting and shelves on the walls

“He’s the most stubborn person I’ve ever known, and gods above, I’m Kier’s daughter” Mor rants while pacing the length of your sitting room. She had winnowed to your apartment a few moments ago and knocked so loud on the door that you thought Hybern was invading. 

“He has his reasons, Mor” you breathe, trying to keep your composure. Hiding your unhappiness about the matter was easier when you did not think or talk about it. 

“You should talk to him, he always listens to you more than he does the rest of us” you begin to shake your head in negation but she insists “you were the only one that got through to him when he wanted to get that awful face tattoo”. 

“I only said I didn’t like it” 

“Exactly! He cares about your opinion. Just… talk to him. He won’t listen to me” you give her a stern look and she replies “please, I know he’ll live to regret it”. 

How could you tell your friend, the day before his wedding, that what he is doing is a mistake? He was not doing it with thoughtless intent. More backup was needed and he found a way to get it, at his own expense. What would be a good argument to convince him otherwise? Would he tell you to mind your business? Would this wreck your friendship? 

Three knocks on a wooden door alert him to your presence.

“Come in” 

“Hi, Rhys,” you greet him. Smiling as you see his face for the first time in weeks. He looks up from the paper he is reading and his features soften as soon as he spots you. 

“Hi, y/n” you shift on your feet. He clears his throat and motions towards a chair in front of the desk “sit, please”. When you sit he adds “what can I help you with?” 

The golden buttons of your blouse feel cool against your fingers as you fiddle with them. “I have to talk to you… about tomorrow”.

His jaw clenches in a way you are not used to “what about tomorrow?” 

“Are you positive you want to go through with it?” 

“Y/n I have no interest in debating my nuptials. It will happen tomorrow and I hope to see you there. But if not, then it won’t make a difference”. Burning fills your chest. Stinging warns you there’s tears that are threatening to spill over. He had never spoken to you like that. Not once. 

“Are you sure it is the right thing to do?” You manage to ask. 

“Is there a reason you don’t want me to go through with it?”

“Mor believes you’ll regret it, in time” 

“I did not ask about what Mor thinks, she has made her opinions clear. I asked if there is a reason you don’t want me to marry the princess?” 

You can only think of one. Selfishly, you think he'd be happier with you, in the long run. But confessing you have a crush the day before his wedding is too pathetic. He is thinking of everyone but himself. You are only thinking about him and yourself. So you lower your gaze back to the golden buttons, and say “no, I’m only here because Mor asked me to talk to you but I see you are certain so I’ll tell her I tried”. You stand and leave, refusing to meet his stare as you feel it burning at your back. 

For the second night in a row you hear knocks at your door. This time they are even and heavy handed. You smell him before reaching the knob and your heart sputters as if recoiling from who stands outside

“What is it, Rhys?” You ask, voice meek against the High Lord towering over you. 

“Why don’t you want me to marry the princess?” 

“I already told you” he remains in the doorway, eyes grave, breath unsteady. 

“Answer me truthfully” you step aside and motion for him to come inside, no need for your neighbors to hear about this. He walks in and immediately turns on his heels, you slam your back on your closed door and look up at him. His heart is also uneven, you’re close enough to hear it. 

“Rhys…”

“Y/n…. please… if you think I’m making a mistake I need you to tell me why” it hurts to see him like this. He’s not resplendent as usual, his shoulders are slanted and his head hangs low. 

Low enough you can feel his breath mixing with your own. 

“I…” you think of the war, of Hybern, of the princess and of the chaos that will unfold if this wedding does not happen. But then you think of your friend, of the male you love spending the rest of his days with another female and, thinking of yourself, knowing it is illogical and self centered, finish saying “I want to be the one you marry”.