#the keyhole on her face is also flat

[theboxfort]

More of Chesty/Mimi (both names are okay)

I'm getting really attached to her for some reason

They live among other objects, and would not hesitate to kill others. She's a bit of a picky eater though

I have no fucking clue who the candy fella is, but spoilers, they're probably dead

[ragingbookdragon]

Simon’s about ten feet from his front door when he decides he doesn’t want to walk anymore. He’s half tempted to lay down on the floor, call his girlfriend, and see if she can’t pull him into their flat. He decides to walk the rest of the way and leans against the door, face first into the cool metal as he fumbles the keys into the lock, not bothering to look for the keyhole. It takes all of five minutes before he manages to get the key in and unlock the door. And when he does, he slips inside, closes the door behind him, drops his bags in the hallway, yanks off his mask, and drops to his knees to lay on the ground. He lets out a long groan as the muscles in his back and limbs relax, all the tension from the missions in the past months fades.

Footsteps sound through the flat, the echo of his love’s voice calling for him through the rooms and into the hall. He doesn’t look up, only opens his eyes to see her face in front of his; she’s wearing one of her face masks, the gooey gold eye masks, and a cherry red lip mask beneath. It makes him want to laugh and he snorts, low in his chest as her nose scrunches up.

“Don’t laugh at me,” she chastises. “I’m doing all this so I could look pretty for you when you got home.”

Simon reaches out and touches her head, fingers brushing gently in her hair; she smells so comforting, like vanilla and orange blossoms, like her shampoo, like home. He’s suddenly falling in love with her all over again as he murmurs, “You look beautiful to me all the time, love.”

Her eyes light up and it makes his heart swell, peace washing over him. “I made chicken and rice. It’s in the oven.”

“With the cream of mushroom?”

“With the cream of mushroom,” she smiles. “And I added an extra can of cream of chicken so it’d be really good for you. And I deep-cleaned the apartment. So it’s clean for you. I also bought you a new leather jacket and boots, so we gotta hit a pub sometime soon so I can show you off to all my ladies.”

He melts further onto the floor, wondering how a man like him has been given a woman like her; she is his salvation amongst all his damnation. “I love you,” he says, quietly, wholeheartedly, and Simon Riley has never felt more human than ever in his life. When he’s here, he forgets about Ghost, forgets about everything that’s brought his life to its knees. He’s Simon, he’s whole, he is loved here.

Her hand moves to brush along his cheek, his nose, his brows, and she smiles at him. “I love you, Simon.”

[skele-bunny]

Thinking about Ghouls and their love for titties......

CW - Forcefem, lactation/nursing, piercing/hook pulling

Dewdrop just smothering himself in Aether's chest, and whining like a kit when he's pulled away. Always finds a way to slam himself right back between his pectorals and Aether just accepts his fate at that point.

Swiss constantly gropping Cirrus, purring and his tail just wagging so damn much. "So pretty... So soft... Perfect for my hands..." Cirrus has none of it before turning around and squeezing his muscles in the same way. "You need a new bra!"

Sunshine always snuggling her face in Aurora's chest when they cuddle and vice versa, sometimes just simply holding each other just for another form of contact.

Mountain always worming a hand up Phantom's shirt when they're sleeping back-to-chest. Sometimes his hand just twitches while he's asleep, and Ant just whines when the twitches gets too tender on the same breast so Mountain subconsciously switches LMAO.

Cumulus just cooing as she holds Dew's tiny tits while forcing him in front of a mirror. "Such pretty little things you have, babydoll. Such a good girl... Just got to keep growing these out, and you'll fit so perfectly in your bra."

Omega loves tracing over Terzo's keyhole scars, sometimes dragging his tongue over them or placing kisses all around the outline.

Terzo also has a thing for Omega's titties ajkwkd. Like Dew does to Aether, he will happily just lay his face between Omega's chest, just kicking his feet and the happiest man on earth. Sometimes likes tugging on his piercings just to hear him growl.

Rain absolutely blissed out with Aether on one of his tits and Dew on the other, slowly milking out his swollen breasts. They tag team him with it, too. Dew rubbing his clit and Aether slowly finger fucking him.

Copia has fucked almost everyone's chest at least once. Absolutely adored Cumulus'! Just how hers absolutely squeezed him, provided so much warmth too. One thing he loved the most was that she kept her tongue out so every time he'd thrust forward, her tongue would graze his tip and was ready to take his load.

Swiss has hooked Dew's nipple piercings to wire for piercing pulls and just loved hearing him cry out from the pain, but boy did Dew enjoy it so much. If his moans didn't show it then his slick did jwjsjx.

Itty Bitty Titty Community Dew, Phantom, and Sunshine having to survive the others nipple twists and it has now caused a war against the Big Booby Brigade Aether, Cumulus, Cirrus, and Rain. They're tied even.

Mist letting Pebble take naps on her chest, and then they both end up passed out and somehow Zephyr?? Gets there?? Too????? Who invited you /silly

Mountain is as flat chested as flat chested can be, but does that stop Swiss? Absolutely not. "Baby, your tits look absolutely amazing today."/"Your boobs look so heavy, want me to hold them for you?"

Swiss. Swiss and tiddies. That's it. That's the rest of the post

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 2: Employed By Criminals

I can’t stand waiting any longer. I’ve been in my new room for what seems like an hour and no one has come to give any further instructions. The time I took to settle in only lasted five minutes, considering all my possessions fit in a small suitcase. So, I decide now I will explore.

I peek through the keyhole and find the kitchen outside to be empty. After opening the door I stick my head out to survey again. Still empty. Where is everyone? The least I can do now is to prepare dinner. After scavenging the kitchen I find some vegetables and spices to work with. No meat, but I’m not going to make a fool of myself around looking for the meat cellar. After I’ve started boiling water and mixed in some herbs I begin to chop the vegetables.

“You’re back,” Finn states as he enters from another side door, looking at the pot with new-found interest. “What’s that?”

“Dinner. Oh, since I didn’t get a good chance to introduce myself, my name’s Verena. Just so you know. Your aunt hired me to be your tutor.”

Finn scrunches his face in dislike. “Ugh. That again? Aunt Polly knows I hate reading!”

“What do you enjoy instead?” I try to sound optimistic as I peel the carrots.

“I like math better, like the math Tommy does for the business. Reading’s too complicated.”

“Not necessarily. What have you read before?”

“The Wind In The Willows, Peter Rabbit, all that kids stuff.”

“Well then it seems to me that you just need to find content you enjoy. Fiction may not be your choice, but you might like books of science, philosophy, or social issues. Have you heard of the Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy by Isaac Newton, or Relativity: The Special and General Theory by Albert Einstein? Maybe The Jungle by Upton Sinclair? Actually-” I set down my knife and rush to my room, returning with a book from my suitcase. “I brought this with me on vacation for light reading.” I hand the curious child the worn book. “It’s the Common Sense pamphlet by Thomas Paine. It’s American, but I’m sure it’s much more interesting than Peter Rabbit.”

Finn apprehensively scans the first page, and I can’t hide my growing smile as a look of interest begins to spread on his face. He starts reading, wandering down the hall while not looking up once. Maybe I’ll make a good tutor after all.

“Alright, enough chatter. Let’s eat.” An approaching voice speaks.

I go back to chopping carrots and don’t bother to look up until the voice speaks again.

“Who are you?”

When I lift my gaze to find the voice’s source, a pair of icy blue eyes are peering into me. The eyes belong to a man with a well-sculpted face that shows both stern and commanding intentions. He’s wearing gray trousers, black dress shoes, white shirt and gray vest, as well as a flat cap that John was wearing earlier. He’s also smoking a cigarette, which has brought a foul stench along with it.

“Who let you in here?” The man asks, not even waiting for me to answer his first question.

“Polly did. Pleasure to meet you-”

“But you can’t be here. I’ll have to talk to her.” Then he walks off and starts pouring himself some water, and I faintly hear him mutter: “We don’t take in strays.”

Excuse me? Since when does this guy get to treat me like dirt? Maybe it’s the American mutt temper, but I’ve got the urge to give him a piece of my mind!

I lean against the counter and look up with rebellious eyes. “Gotta say, your accent is a bit on the tricky side. Mind saying that again?”

The man seems taken back by the tone of my voice, as if he’s not used to people being sassy with him. He’s quick to regain his posture and has a smirk growing on his lips.

“And I’ll say that your American accent is downright pathetic compared to ours. You lot still never got over being independent, did you? Gotta flaunt it about in all our faces!”

My jaw drops. “I never even mentioned that! I think you’re the one holding a grudge based on a war you weren’t even a part of!” He tries to interrupt but I keep talking. “And for the record, we Americans are current allies with you. So instead of arguing about something that happened a hundred and forty years ago, I say we uphold each country’s honor and talk as if we’re on the same level. Do you agree?”

The man keeps staring at me, seeming to ponder whether or not to argue again.

“This book is really good!” Finn interrupts the silence from down the hall.

I grin at his enthusiasm and go back to chopping carrots, ignoring the man’s blank stare.

“Polly said you know Finn, my new student.”

His eyes flick upwards to find mine again. “Pardon?”

“I’m his tutor, or at least I have been for the past hour. Polly hired me, so that’s why I’m here.”

“Interesting…”

Now he’s looking at me in a different manner, as if sizing me up as a potential threat. Why would he do that? The man slowly walks around the counter towards me and removes his cap, allowing me to see he has dark hair in a style similar to Finn’s. He turns it over and sets it on the counter, as if he wants me to get a closer look. What I do I notice it’s got something shiny peeking out of the brim.

“What’s with the custom hat? It’s made of metal, or something?”

The man simply chuckles and holds back the fabric to show- razors?

“You sew razor blades into your hat? Now I’ve heard everything! And I thought Americans were crazy!”

“Is that soup I smell?” Another voice comes from the same way the man came. Another man enters the room and I recognize him as John. When he sees us, his eyes acquire a hint of uncertainty. “Thomas, I see you’ve met Verena. Polly was just telling me about her.”

So this is the Thomas I was warned about? I guess Polly wasn’t kidding when she said he was ruff. 

“Not officially, John. She was just telling about how Polly hired her to teach Finn. May I ask why?”

“Polly says it’s because he needs a proper education. Not one that’s only taught through bookkeeping. Can’t say I blame her. When’s the last time any of us actually sat down with him and taught him something?”

Thomas shrugs. “If he’s going to be part of the Blinders he’ll learn all he needs to know by watching us.”

The name sends a chill down my spine and I snap to attention.

“Wait- Blinders? As in Peaky Blinders…? Oh my God.” I look back and forth between Thomas and John, still holding the knife. “Shelby! That’s the name! Shelby! I’ve heard things about you, what kind of a man you are! Excuse me, but I do not want to be involved with anything surrounding you!”

I grip the knife and dash for the hallway, yanking on the door handle only to find it’s locked. Panicking, I stand in the corner with the knife held out as Thomas Shelby struts towards me- holding a pistol!

“Please, don’t kill me! I have nothing to offer! You’d just be wasting a bullet!”

There’s no answer, only Thomas looking at me with cold eyes.

“Verena! Verena! Polly, where'd she go?” Finn’s voice comes from down the hall. He turns his head and sees me, with a wide grin on his face. God, I can’t let him see me get killed!

“Finn…? Finn! Did you finish your reading?” I speak in a quivering voice.

“Almost. I’ve only got a few more pages.”

I nod shakily still looking between Finn and Thomas, who’s looking at him while still holding the gun up. “Alright, go and finish up and then I’ll be right over.”

Finn heads back into his room, and I look up to glare into Thomas’ calculating eyes. “I swear to God, if you so much as lay a finger on that boy-!”

“You’ll what?” Thomas asks in a laid-back manner. “A moment ago you were begging for me not to kill you. Now you’re threatening me not to kill my own brother?”

My mind stops. “Brother…? He’s your brother? Oh…” I shamefully look to the floor, cursing myself in my head for making such a stupid mistake. “But you’ll still kill me.”

The next few quiet seconds are so suspenseful I swear I can hear my own heart beating. I dare to look back up at Thomas, who now shakes his head.

“I’m not going to kill you.”

My brow furrows at his words. “This means I’m fired then, doesn’t it?”

By now John’s entered the hallway and comes over to stand in front of Thomas.

“Why would we fire you? From what Polly’s told me and what we’ve seen here, you haven’t given us any reason to fire you.”

“But my question is-” Thomas steps forward. “Can she be trusted? How do we know she’s loyal to us?”

I bite my lip and lower the knife I’m holding. “With all due respect sir, you’re technically my employer. That and the fact that you’re temporarily housing me gives me enough reason to be loyal. And if for whatever reason in the future I might not be, you can kick me to the dirt.”

Both men exchange looks, seeming to have a silent conversation while I stand here awkwardly. Eventually John gestures for Thomas to put away the gun, who seems to have forgotten he had it out.

“We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot,” Thomas says in a lighter tone. “What was your name again?”

Now that he’s not holding a gun at me, Thomas actually seems decent. I might dare to even call him handsome. Remember, this is your boss now. Keep it professional. Don’t lose your head.

I stand up straighter and hold out a hand to shake his. “Verena Nora Steenstra. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shelby.” I turn to John and shake his hand too. “You as well, Mr. Shelby. I was told by Polly to wait for any further instructions. In the meantime there is soup in the pot if you’re interested.”

“Wait.” Thomas gets an odd look. “You… made dinner? Why?”

Now that I have more leverage, I hold my breath to squeeze past the two men and back into the kitchen. “I had nothing else to do, and it’s the least I can do since you’ve allowed me into your home.”

Just then, Polly comes into the room. She hesitates when she sees us, giving John and Thomas a certain look. Then she sees the pot on the stove.

“Who cooked? Ada hasn’t made anything in weeks.”

The two men look at each other, then point to me. Polly seems impressed.

“You appear to be a lady of many talents, Ms. Steenstra.”

My face goes pink at her praise and I busy myself by stirring the soup. “I know my way around the kitchen. My family thinks it’s proper for me to be a suitable housewife, so that’s what I’ve been expected to do my whole life. Cooking, baking, sewing, the works. In all honesty, this is the first real job I’ve ever had.”

When I turn back to them, they’re all sitting at the table and appear to all be whispering something. Thomas is the one to speak first.

“So you’re from America, and for the moment you are stuck here?”

“Correct.”

He nods slowly. “Welcome to Birmingham, Ms. Steenstra. Here’s exactly what you’re getting yourself into, love. My family runs a bookkeeping business, and we do our part to keep a close eye on the authorities. People know better not to mess with us.”

“Bookkeeping, like gambling?”

“Correct.”

Dear Lord, I’ve become involved with criminals!

Polly seems to catch onto my panicked thoughts. “You need not worry about being caught up with our work. You’ll only be interacting with Finn.” Polly’s eyes narrow. “If anyone asks, you’re a private tutor and only a private tutor. Do not go asking too many questions.”

I nod shakily and wring my hands together. “Seems to me like a world made up of gambling, drinking, and violence.” I shake my head and give her a skeptical look. “That doesn’t seem like a world I want to be involved in.”

“You won’t have to, and I suggest you don’t.”

By now Finn’s returned and is sitting next to John, but he’s not the only one who’s entered. Over the past few minutes a man with a mustache and a younger woman with short dark hair wearing a red dress are now standing across from me. Thankfully Polly notices my discomfort.

“Everyone, we need proper introductions. This is Verena Steenstra, and she’s going to be helping Finn with his studies. Verena, you’ve met Finn, Thomas, and John. The final Shelby brother is Arthur over there.” She points to the mustache man. “And Ada’s their sister.” She points to the woman in red.

Wow. The Shelbys are a big family. And suspicious ones at that, because they’re all looking at me as if they’re dogs eyeing a piece of meat.

“Polly, no offense, but I don’t like this,” the one called Arthur grunts. “Who says the bitch won’t tattle to the coppers the instant she leaves? How do you know she isn’t a spy sent by the new bloke?” He jerks his head to see Finn eating my soup and he swipes the bowl. “How do we know this isn’t poisoned?!”

“Because I ate it?” I shrug. “Because unlike most people I’ve met here I actually try to be nice? It’s fun, you should try it sometime.”

John starts outright laughing, leaving us all giving him funny looks. “You picked out a real winner, Polly! She’s just like the Americans I met during the war!”

Lord, what have I gotten myself into?

[strawberryys-stuff]

𝘿𝙄𝙎𝙍𝙀𝙂𝘼𝙍𝘿𝙀𝘿 | Percy Jackson x Ares!oc

Introduction

The midnight blue umbrella snapped closed, releasing a gravity defying plume of small droplets. The defeated elementary school student pulled down her hood and tucked a lock of red hair that barely reached her shoulder blades behind her ear.

After she leaned the overflowing cloth bag of groceries against the brick wall beside the entrance to the block of flats that she had recently moved into with her step-family, Alexis shrugged her rucksack off her aching shoulder to fish her keys out of the front pocket.

"Crap," the redhead squeezed her dusty teal eyes shut and threw her head back with a groan, "not again.."

She pulled out her dying cellphone and unlocked it, sighing. Alexis dialed her step-brother while she was collecting her stuff from the muddy ground and blew strands of hair out of her face.

"Hugo?" she called out to her sibling when the obnoxious ringing got replaced by awkward silence. The young boy on the other side of the line hummed as he rubbed one of his squinted eyes and stifled a yawn. "Could you come down? I forgot my keys."

Hugo grumbled and pinched the bridge of his nose, slightly annoyed. "Come on, Alex.."

"I know and I am sorry, okay? Just-" the red-haired student exhaled heavily and glanced to the side- "come get me, alright? I'll make you a cup of hot chocolate in return," Alexis suggested.

"With marshmallows, though."

She pursed her chapped lips, unamused, but had to agree with his request in the end because she did not want to turn into a popsicle before the eyes of the entire neighborhood.

Alexis chewed on her bottom lip as the early humid autumn breeze swept past and tickled all the exposed spots of her pale skin. She continued to shiver and grew impatient.

"I will murder that boy," Alexis stated with a sarcastic smile as she searched in her jacket pocket for her cellphone once more.

While she was entering the password, a boy her age approached the entrance to the block of flats with earphones in his ears and a skateboard in his hand. Unlike Alexis, the blonde hadn't forgotten his keys at home before he left for school that rainy morning.

The jingling of keys startled the frustrated girl. She stumbled backwards with a shriek when the boy appeared out of thin air beside her. He was taken aback by her reaction, also flinched and dropped his keys in the process.

"Shit!" Alexis covered her rapidly beating heart with her ice-cold hand, her breath sharp and fast.

"My bad," the blonde apologized with a quick nod her way and bent down to pick up his keychain. He inserted one of his many keys into the keyhole, unlocked the door and held it open for Alexis to walk into the warmth of the building.

"Thank you." She bowed her head and gladly stepped out of the autumn weather with the boy on her heels.

The blonde pulled down his drenched hood in the lobby and shook his hair to gain some life back into his messy and undefined curls. With her adventurous spirit and undying curiosity, Alexis searched for his eyes and when their gazes collided, her jaw went slack.

"Oh.." The boy breathed out and scratched the back of his neck after he connected the dots and put a name to her imperfect face. "It's you."

Alexis laughed nervously and shrugged her shoulders. "Yep, it is me! The girl you spilled your apple juice on at lunch.."

"It was an accident," he clarified, "I swear!"

Alexis arched one of her eyebrows at that and looked down at her outfit. Instead of her favorite light blue jeans, she was wearing baggy gray sweatpants along with a black T-shirt that did not belong to her, but to the boy standing in front of her.

After he spilled his drink and some of his leftovers on her clothes, the blonde offered her his clothes, which he planned to change into for his PE class.

"I really didn't mean to-"

"Hey." The redhead placed her hand on his shoulder to stop his upcoming rambling with a tiny smile on her lips. The boy screwed his mouth shut. "I am just messing with you, blondie."

Her smile was contagious. She also had dimples, he noticed. "Yeah," he chuckled and shyly broke their eye contact, his cheeks flushed, "okay."

His gaze trailed a tad bit lower, to the handmade necklace she had around her neck - a thin leather string with three differently colored balls. It looked familiar, he was sure he had seen it before.

"Well," Alexis broke the awkward silence and adjusted the cloth bag that hung loosely on her shoulder. "I have to go.."

"No yeah-" the blonde shook his head slightly and brought his pure blue gaze up- "of course."

"Thank you for the clothes by the way," Alexis gestured to his gym class outfit with a smile. "I will give it back on Monday if that's okay."

"Sure, yeah. Whenever it's convenient for you."

"Okay.." She nodded and bit the inside of her cheek. "See you on Monday then?"

"Yeah.. See you on Monday.."

They shared one last awkward smile before she turned to the elevator and disappeared behind its doors.

The blonde squeezed his eyes shut, regretting that he decided not to follow the red-haired girl he found quite intriguing into the elevator. He was captivated by her playing the electric guitar and musical talent in general.

Alexis Driscoll was a hot-tempered, mysterious and brutally honest elementary school student with a passion for music, who also lived in the same block of flats as Percy Jackson.

Percy could tell she had an enormous amount of secrets and trouble hiding behind her in her shadow, but that was one of the reasons why she had caught his eye.

He didn't know her name nor why her cool grey gaze seemed to be something he would recognize anywhere in a heartbeat, but he knew one thing..

she had been haunting his dreams for quite a while.

How did he know?

Percy Jackson would recognize that necklace blindfolded.

That piece of handmade jewellery was what he had been wearing around his wrist in every dream and every spine-chilling nightmare of his.

For some unexplainable reason, Alexis Driscoll was the key to most, maybe even all, of his unanswered questions.

[possuminaskirt]

The terrible screaming squelching sound of a million million cars being crushed at once

Leyla was in the shower when it happened. We were late for work, I was standing by the window finishing my coffee when the terrible sound made me flinch, splashing myself violently.

I saw it happen, but the sound was what really struck me.

The cars on the street all flattened at once. In the blink of an eye, the roofs caved in. All the glass exploded. The wheels splayed out to the sides like cartoon roadkill, or flew off entirely. Some of the horns honked at maximum volume before wheezing into silence. Car alarms chirped and beeped angrily before cutting off abruptly.

They were all flat. The sound and the pressure change was a nightmare thing to experience.

"What the fuck was that?!" Leyla shouted from the bathroom. "Are you okay?!"

My uniform blouse was stained with coffee. I set the nearly empty mug down and threw open the window, leaning my head out to peer down the street. Every car I saw was as flat as a pancake. Some were actively smoking. My stomach turned a little at the sight, many of the vehicles hadn't been empty when it happened.

Leyla was behind me now, wrapped in a towel with her hair dripping. "What the fuck was that? Did a transformer explode?"

She squeezed next to me and looked out over the wreckage. "What the fuck?" she gasped.

"They all just fucking flattened, at the same time. Holy shit, it's every one of them." I explained, just becoming aware that I was shaking.

"Holy shit, what the fuck?" Leyla said again. "What the fuck?" she asked again, looking into my wide brown eyes with her wide hazel eyes.

"I don't know. I don't know. Are we under attack?" my phone rang, making us both jump and Leyla scream.

"Fuck me." Leyla sighed, her hand on her face.

My shaking hands could barely unlock my phone. It was my mom.

"Honey?!" she was frantic. "Stephanie were you driving?! Stephanie are you okay?"

"Mom, no, no, we're late. We were late, we are late. Jesus, no, we weren't in the car. Holy shit..."

"Oh thank God. Oh my God. Oh thank God. Jesus, thank God." she kept repeating.

"Mom? Mom! Did you call dad? What about dad?"

She hung up on me after a beat. I guess she hadn't called dad yet.

Leyla's hands were on my shoulders.

"Did she? Steph?"

My pounding heart throbbed in my head. I was in a trance. I almost floated out the door and down the stairs to the street, passing terrified, crying, confused people, people on the phone desperately calling, or consoling, or assuaging.

The air outside smelled like hot, burnt metal and melting plastic. Glass and flakes of paint covered the sidewalks and road, crunching under my black sneakers. Gallons of oil, gasoline and myriad other fluids all mixed in rainbow puddles and slicks, running into the gutters.

I walked South. People were standing in complete dumbfounded awe, confused, scared, strangers talking to neighbors they'd never spoken a single word to all suddenly trying to make sense of something ridiculous together.

I turned East on Bartley and kept walking until I came to the flattened wreck of my car, parked where I left it last night between a truck and a hybrid. All of them were flat. They were flatter than any machine could make, flatter than crushed cans. My tires had all exploded. The front driver side hubcap was lodged in a tree.

"It's fucking all of them." a man said nearby, his phone in his hand and his finger quickly scrolling. "Every fucking one. Christ, the freeway is a fucking horror show."

"It's global. They're saying even the ones on freight ships." a different man chimed in from across the street, his phone in his own hand and a cigarette dangling between his lips. "But not the ships."

I approached what was the trunk of my sedan and poked at it with my foot. Leyla, now also dressed in her uniform ran beside me, her hair still wet and soaking the shoulders of her shirt.

"Honey..." she touched my back as I bent down to poke the keyhole on the trunk.

"Don't touch it!" the man yelled.

The metal burned my skin on contact, I flinched back hissing a little.

"They're all hot as hell like that!" he said, running over. "Don't touch'em. You okay?"

I stood up, looking at him confusedly. My phone rang again, I realized it was still in my other hand. It was my mom again.

"Steph?! Honey, sweetheart, I can't reach your dad. Honey I don't, I don't know. I don't know what to do..."

Fuck fuck fuck.

"I'm coming over. Stay put, okay? Just stay put Mom, we'll come to you. Leyla and me, okay?" I said, Leyla's hand gently held my arm, keeping me still.

"How?" Leyla whispered, her eyes wide and her eyebrows high.

"What?" I whispered, before realizing we couldn't. We couldn't go anywhere.

"Mom? We'll...we'll try to get to you, okay? Just stay put. Just stay there, don't leave." Leyla's face wrinkled with angst as I tried to calm my mother. "Mom? I love you, we'll be there as soon as we can." she said something in reply, but I was hanging up and looking around for any transportation.

"Buses?" I asked the man. He shook his head, frowning.

"Fuck me."

"What do we do?" Leyla asked as we began to walk back to the apartment. "Should I call work?"

"Fuck....shit...work. I mean, fuck...probably? Shit, if this isn't extenuating circumstances I don't know what the fuck is." we walked through the wreckage of shards and shrapnel, walking in and out of peoples' speculative conversations about aliens, climate change, North Korea, the government and God.

Leyla already had her phone to her ear. When we got back to the apartment building she hung up.

"Nobody's picking up in the office."

"I wonder why." I almost laughed.

"Can we, can we just stop. Sit. Sit down with me." Leyla huffed, grabbing my wrist and pulling me down onto the stoop beside her.

"Take a second. Breathe. Breathe with me."

"The air. It smells...so bad." I broke down into tears, leaning against her while she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed.

"He's okay Steph. He's fine. I'm sure he's fine." she stroked my arms, breathing into my hair.

I gasped for air, heaving and sobbing into her chest, snotty and shaking.

After a few minutes of her gently rocking me, I panicked, looking into her ashen face.

"Your folks! Charlie! Are they?..." I began to ask.

"I called them, they're all okay. They're okay. I called when you walked out. They're shaken up but they're okay. Charlie was asleep." she chuckled a little, some tears rolling down her own cheeks.

We held each other for a few minutes, gently rocking and crying while strangers walked around us in similar states of angry and sad.

We retreated to the apartment, both not wanting to look at the wreckage any more. We sat on the couch, recuperating and thinking of how to get across town to my mom's. I was the first to say it out loud.

"It could have been us, Ley. We were late. What if we'd been on time? What if we were in traffic?"

"I know. It's fucked. It's so fucked."

We sat together, in the dawning realization that a few minutes of extra spooning time in bed that morning saved our lives.

Leyla straightened up and took a deep breath. "Okay, how are we getting to your mom's?"

I clenched my jaw, listening to the sounds of nervous, sad, panicking people outside.

"I have no idea."

[denimbex1986]

'*****

Isaac Newton had Indian heritage and the Doctor is gay and fancies him.

Yes, the returning showrunner Russell T Davies’ second episode back continues to gleefully rub the faces of the haters in a big pile of steaming Woke. In fact, ‘Wild Blue Yonder’, which Davies also wrote, has a false start purely to do that – ok not purely, also to set up a brilliantly silly running joke - with a little stop off in 1666 when the Tardis crash lands into the tree under which Newton had just had the apple drop on his head, before toddling off again to the location of the episode proper. It’s a highly amusing little flourish, since Newton is played by the excellent British-Indian actor Nathanial Curtis from It’s a Sin, and it causes Catherine Tate's Donna to reflect later, "Wasn’t Isaac Newton hot?", and for David Tennant’s Doctor to concur: “He was, so hot…oh! Is that who I am now?” slightly taken aback at this apparent change of sexuality in his new incarnation. “Well it was never far from the surface,” Donna deadpans.

"Wait, the Doctor isn't gay!...and…and I think you’ll find Sir Isaac was very much white!’ splutter a thousand GB News trolls in their front rooms, before hurling their toad-in-the-holes at the flat screen.

Come now, chaps, sit back down. Of course the Doctor has to be a bit gay - knowing the flux of genders he’s been through by this stage, it makes perfect sense for him to be bisexual at the very least. As for the Newton stuff, well, who really cares about the details, he's supposed to be sexy in this and Curtis most certainly is that. More to the point, this is the kind of freewheeling, nod-and-a-wink, devil-may-care attitude that embodies Tennant’s and Davies’ Doctor Who, which, after a joyous return last week in 'The Star Beast', is now fully in the groove with this five-star instant-classic episode.

At the end of the last one, Donna spilt her coffee into the console of the spanking new Tardis, so it’s now in flames and crashing around time and space. After the bit of Newton ogling, the pair find themselves on board a massive spaceship (Donna: “I’d hate to be the cleaner.”). No one else is around apart from a rusty old robot which takes one step about every half an hour. The ship keeps on reconfiguring in some way. And, actually the ship is not space, they realise, it’s in a dark void beyond the edge of the universe, “absolute nothing”. The ship’s computer reveals an air lock opened and closed again three years ago to let something in. Worrying. The best thing to do would be to get back into the Tardis and get the hell out of there, but the Tardis does a runner on them – the Doctor stuck his sonic screwdriver in its keyhole to regenerate it after the fire, but in its recovering state it left because it senses danger.

“There’s something so bad on board this ship that the Tardis ran away...”

As in 'The Star Beast', this represents Davies leaving behind previous showrunner Chris Chibnall’s multiverse and taking things back to basics, as the very best science fiction tends to do. After the Newton escapade, the episode is just a two-header, with the Doctor and Donna in isolation on the ship. It is reminiscent of Alien, of Silent Running, and, given (bit late to give a spoiler alert, but: spoiler alert) the fact doppelgangers of the Doctor and Donna turn up, Solaris. Of course, it’s not at all pretentious, with huge dollops of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy thrown in too – the way the doppelgangers can’t “get the arms right” is a giggle for the kids watching. There’s a delightful puzzle to the episode that works as a satisfying mini-movie, while also delivering some intriguing lore tidbits and tease Davies’ overall new arc.

And actually, it even manages to not cast aside Chibnall’s work, but to humanise it a little more. Chibnall worked it so that the Doctor is not actually a Time Lord at all but the ‘Timeless Child’, a kind of Patient Zero for Time Lords, who’s from another universe entirely. Anyway, Jodie Whittaker had to deal with the shock of that, but Tennant does great work here in tugging some heartstrings to show how haunted the Doctor is by this new knowledge. After being riled up about the fact he doesn't know who he truly is by the spooky space doppelgangers, Tennant kicks at the ship in a rage, and generally demonstrates in his Hamlet-meets-Ace Ventura way that he is very tortured indeed, but still a laugh. (Incidentally, are his suits getting tighter? Is another lore-busting sub-plot here that the Tardis is actually some kind of intergalactic spin dryer slowing shrinking the clothes on the Doctor until he loses his mind? Just putting it out there)

‘Wild Blue Yonder’ has a tremendous sleight-of-hand climax, and ends on a particularly emotional moment with a returning cast member. It's pretty much as perfect a piece of televisual entertainment you could hope for in the year of our Time Lord 2023. Truly, we’re all watching way too much TV, but this returning Doctor Who makes you think that actually this is a worthwhile thing to do with our lives.

Oh, and ‘Wild Blue Yonder’, they explain, is a war song, so another question was why the Tardis was playing while it was on fire? What’s coming? Spooky space stuff, no doubt. Roll on episode three...'

[archaeopter-ace]

@super-shapeshifter-showdown

Loki propaganda incoming! Which is weird, because I submitted Selkies, so I am Very Torn. So, so conflicted.

I would have put this on the marvel Loki v. Loki matchup, except my preferred Loki didn't look like they needed any help. So I said, 'oh, I'll just submit my favorite comic panels in the next round...' which is now against selkies 😭 Can we get a 50/50 and have them move on together? 🙏

And now for the propaganda!

Behold! Once upon a time someone else shared these panels on tumblr, and I thought the worldbuilding on how Loki's shapeshifting powers work was so interesting and it's what made me start reading Loki: Agent of Asgard in the first place. This exchange lives rent-free in my brain more or less constantly. I think about it a lot when I think about what limits a multiform shapeshifter might have.

[Image ID: A series of panels from Issue #5 of Loki: Agent of Asgard (2014). Three near-identical tall narrow panels show Loki and Lorelei standing shoulder-to-shoulder facing the viewer in front of a flat background. Loki is wearing an Asgardian-style tunic and dark skinny pants with greaves over their shins, black fingerless gloves, a knee-length coat with light-colored fur on the color and lapels, and a golden headpiece with two short horns curving backward. Lorelei is wearing a white and black catsuit with white boots and a utility belt worn at a rakish angle. Everything is colored in warm tones of burnt orange and dark pink. The text box in the first panel reads "Obstacle Three: The Uru Gate of Impregnability." Loki says, "Impossible to open from the outside... unless you have the key. Which is unstealable -- I've tried." Lorelei responds, "So change into a fly and buzz through the keyhole. Problem solved."

In the second panel, Lorelei has crossed her arms and shifted her attention to Loki. Loki has changed their appearance to be more feminine, with long, slight-wavy hair. Their clothing and gold headpiece with two short curving horns are otherwise unchanged. Loki says, "Not that simple, these days. Changing my shape is... not without cost." Lorelei starts and trails off, "I seem to remember--" Loki clarifies, "Oh I can turn into myself, that's no problem. I can turn into anything, so long as it's me." In the third panel, Loki has turned their head, which is now a fox head, to face Lorelei. Loki continues, "But I'm just not a 'tiny, buzzing insect' sort of person." Then, in smaller font, they add, "Also the doors are protected by magic and I'd get zapped." Lorelei says, "Next time, lead with that, show-off. so... how do we open the door?"

There is a small fourth panel inset into the bottom right corner. A close-up of Loki's face, still in fox form, says simply, "We don't." /End ID]

[sombreboy]

Clipped wings♕yandere!prince!jjk

♮ 18+ ♮ xtremity: 4 ♮ pairing: prince jjk x female reader ♮ genre: soft smut, light angst, royal au, soft yandere ♮ word count: 7.7k ♮ warnings: light angst, soft yandere, possessive behavior, stockholm syndrome themes, soft smut, virgin!reader, oral(f), fingering, praise ‘dirty’ talk, unprotected sex/creampie.

A/N: This has been in my drafts for so long and here he finally is. I want to thank @ppersonna​ for being my soft smut aid, I couldn’t have finished this without you. And thank you @chimoona​ for being a good support to keep me from throwing this fic into the trash can at several occasions. ily or something. Also thank you to my dear @carly-bean-blog​ for helping me out with this gorgeous banner. chu♡

It was a late night, the darkness illuminated by the continuous lightning strikes flashing, rain pouring down so hard that it was hard to see further than a few meters ahead.

It was the worst thunderstorm in history, you were sure of it. 

Unfortunately, you were in the midst of it, lost in the woods as you tried to navigate your way back to town. 

But to no avail, you were completely disoriented, panic rushing through your spine as you felt your clothes getting heavier, soaked by the cold rain.

Aimlessly wandering for shelter, you end up in a large garden, following the trail of flowers until you reach two grand doors. You look up, palms placed flat on the surface, your eyes squinting to get a better look of it. You couldn’t see very well, but this was a very large building-- A castle?

Another strike of lightning sparked in the sky, the silhouette of the castle visible for a split second, and you gasp, startled from the roaring sound. In the midst of it, you decide to knock three times on the wooden doors.

A long moment passes, until you take a step back when the two doors slowly creaked open. Keeping one hand over your face to shelter your eyes from the rain, you’re able to distinguish the frame of a man standing by the doorway,

‘‘Who may this be?’’

Must be a butler, his voice deep and smooth. He didn’t look very pleased, however.

‘‘I-I just.... I’m lost, and-’‘

‘‘I’m sorry, we are unable to help. Unless you have business with the prince, you must leave immediately.’‘

You took a step closer, a frown on your face, ‘’You’re going to leave me here in the cold? It’s pouring!’’

The butler didn’t move, but his eyes were apologetic, ‘’I’m sorry, ma’am.’’

‘‘I’ll die from the cold!’‘ You pleaded. It felt partially true, you were freezing, soaked and lost. How could one be so heartless?

The butler pursed his lips, as if he was trying to find a solution, ‘’Then... step inside for a moment.’’ he ushered for you to get inside just far enough for you to be sheltered by the building, closing the doors behind you before he strides through the hall towards a room, ‘’Wait there, I will be back shortly.’’

So, you did. You waited, for what felt like forever.

Until finally, the footsteps of the butlers heeled boots echoed through the large hallway was heard as he returned, a vague smile on his lips as he bowed at you,

‘‘The prince would like to see you.’‘

You tilted your head to the side, ‘’He would?’’

The butler nods, ushering for you to follow behind him, so you do.

When reaching the next large door, the butler opens them before stepping to the side, announcing your presence, ‘’She’s here, my lord.’’

You walk in, unsure of what to say or do, jumping where you stand as the doors slam shut behind you, leaving you alone with this.... prince.

‘‘Who are you?’‘ His smooth voice snapped your attention towards the man standing by the window, back facing you.

From what you could see, he was very young. A lot younger than you expected, probably around your age if you weren’t mistaken.

He had raven hair, a form fitted suit showcasing his perfectly sculpted proportions, a slim waist with broad shoulders. 

Please, let him at least have a less attractive face.

The prince turned around slowly, a wine glass swirling in his hand while the other was stuffed deep down the pocket of his suit pants.

Of course he was beautiful.

‘‘Let me ask you again,’’ he said, taking one sip from his wine as he slowly sauntered over to you, the echoing of his heels clacking against the floor prominent in the grand room, ‘’Who are you? And what do you want?’’

Your eyebrows were drawn together, gaze following him as he circled around you like some kind of predator eyeing its prey.

‘‘I’m Y/N. I simply wish for shelter from the storm until it passes, then I will be on my way.’’

The prince hummed, his eyes drawn to the liquid in his glass as he’s in thought,

‘‘And why should I grant you this wish?’‘

What? Wish?

‘‘Are you serious?’‘ You grew annoyed, crossing your arms over your chest. Ah, your clothes were cold... Looking at him, your eyes were annoyed, yet pleading, ‘‘It’s a very bad storm, I can’t go back out...’‘

‘‘Then what do you offer?’‘ He glanced back up at you with a serious face.

What could you possibly offer a prince? He had everything he could ever desire.

But, you did have one thing that could not be bought...

‘‘I could sing for you.’‘

The prince’s eyes widened, he didn’t expect that out of all things you could’ve offered. ‘’Huh? I mean...What?’’

Now he’s the one speechless. huh.

‘‘Yes,’‘ You take one daring step forward, ‘‘I’m not rich, nor do I have anything of... value to give. But.. I can sing. Isn’t it awfully quiet in this large castle all by yourself?’‘

He rolled his tongue on the inside of his cheek, placing the glass down on the nearby desk before crossing his own arms over his chest. ‘’Go on then. Sing for me.’’

His command causes you to take a deep breath, giving him a short nod. God, you wish you would’ve been able to change into dry clothes first... Hopefully, this would be enough for him to let you stay, and maybe even accommodate some dry fabrics for your freezing body.

Jungkook leaned against his desk, fingers thrumming against his bicep as they were crossed. He wasn’t expecting much, honestly. But, he was truly bored-- why not mess with this strange girl before throwing her out?

But, he spoke too soon, and his premature judgement backfired. As soon as you cleared your throat, a shaky tune escaped your parted lips. With every word you sang, your voice got steadier and more secure in your abilities. The cold was less of a bother as the piercing, fixated gaze of the prince heated your entire being.

He was absolutely mesmerized by your voice, his lips fell slightly agape, his body stiffening. He expected nothing special, but this... It was probably-- no, it was without a doubt the most beautiful sound he’s ever been blessed with. It touched his soul, his heart pounded beneath his rib cage so hard it felt like it would burst, eyes now focused on your effortless beauty despite your messy damp hair and soaked clothes. You were way beyond physical beauty.

He’d already made his decision by now.

‘‘Enough.’‘ The prince had closed the distance between the two of you, his body standing right in front of yours. You hadn’t noticed that he came up to you until your eyes opened, breath hitched at his close proximity. Your doe eyes stared up at him, his own dark orbs swirling with an unnamed emotion.

‘‘S-so...?’‘ You whisper, hoping that it was enough for him to let you stay the night.

He smiled softly, reaching to stroke your cheek with the back of his hand. ‘‘I’ll need you to sing for me once more,’‘ He paused to snap his fingers, the maid that you didn’t even notice was in the room ushers you out of the room to lead you to your own.

Jungkook wanted to hear it again. And again... And again… For the rest of eternity.

~ ~ ~

The following morning you felt well rested, the large bed and dry nightgown provided worked wonders. Peering around the room, you realized that you’d possibly overstayed your welcome, the sun shining through the large... locked and barred window? Odd. Safety precautions, supposedly.

You pushed the bedspread away from your body to stand up, heading towards the door to leave.

It was locked.

‘’What the..?’’ 

You were in disbelief, jerking the handle once, twice. It wouldn’t budge. You were locked in.

‘’Hello?... I can’t get out! Open the door!’’ You yelled through the keyhole, fist slamming against the wooden surface of the door, hoping that somebody in the large castle would hear you.

As soon as you were about to slam your hand against the door once more, it suddenly opened. It was the kind butler, handing you a stack of clean clothes and an apologetic smile.

‘’The prince has instructed for you to join him for dinner this evening,’’ He pauses to make sure you’re keeping up, his lopsided smile still present, ‘’Please put this on before then. I will return when it is time.’’

He puts the fabrics in your hands before you’re able to even think of a response, your eyebrows drawn together in confusion. 

‘’Wait-- Why was the door locked?’’ You pleaded for an answer, but the butler avoided the question, and simply took a step back before slowly closing the door, the expression on his eyes nothing but penitent.

You couldn’t believe what was happening, eyes widening as you dropped everything to the floor, attempting once again to open the door, but within the same second the click of the lock striked the room, and the fading sound of footsteps leaving in the hallway.

What were you supposed to do the entire day?

And why did the prince want you to stay for dinner? 

And for god's sake, why on earth were you locked in? You thought the prince wanted you out as soon as humanly possible. Nothing made sense.

A defeated sigh pushed through your lips as you picked up the clothes that you’d dropped, heading over to place them on the bed. You wonder if the prince himself had personally picked out this ensemble for you. Not that it mattered. You lift the cloth to inspect the dark purple fabrics, a cocktail style dress… and honestly… you’d lie if you said it wasn’t beautiful.

~ ~ ~

The evening finally arrived, and you actually had gotten ready in lack of anything else to do, dress on with the matching shoes-- even the little bracelet provided, a small silver dangle attached shaped like a little bird. You figured, you might as well oblige to the prince’s wishes, and hopefully you’d be able to leave after this… dinner.

Meanwhile, Jungkook had made sure that everything was up to his expectations; the grand table filled with a variety of delicacies. He circled the table several times, sharp eyes observing that every single detail was up to par. And it was, he hummed in content before his gaze landed on his butler. ‘’Bring the lady, make sure she’s dressed for the occasion.’’

‘’Yes, my lord.’’

~ ~ ~

A firm knock on the door caught your attention as you were observing yourself in the large mirror. Suddenly, you almost felt nervous-- jittery. Taking a deep breath, you head towards the door, waiting for whoever is behind it to open it for you. ‘’Are you dressed?’’ The deep voice on the other side muttered. 

‘’Yes.’’ As soon as you voiced your reply, the door swung open, this time a boxy smile adorning the butlers face instead of the crooked one you’d almost gotten used to. It was nice to see he had any other expression than a gloomy one.

You were guided downstairs to the dining hall. As soon as you entered through the two large doors, you felt so incredibly small. You jumped when the doors were slammed shut behind you, and a sudden hand gently placed on your lower back to usher you to your seat.

Jungkook crooked his eyebrow at the butler's daring move and gave him a warning glare as he pushed your seat in behind you.

‘’Welcome, Y/N.’’ Jungkook clasped his hands on the table, leaning forward as his eyes roamed down the outfit you’d put on… The attire he’d chosen especially for you. His gaze landed on the small bracelet on your wrist, the silver bird dangle beautifully decorating you like a piece of art.

‘’Thank you..’’ You replied, a bit unsure of this situation. But you decided to enjoy it. Why not? It’s not everyday that you’d get to dine with royalty. All this food smelled heavenly. Jungkook snapped his fingers, and on cue the butler poured your wine, while the maid put food on your plates. When he was satisfied, he told them to leave the room and wait outside.

Jungkook wanted utter privacy with you.

‘’What do you think of this?’’ Jungkook asked, gesturing around the room; but he meant everything. The castle.

‘’It’s divine,’’ You answered truthfully as you sipped your wine to wash down the food, ‘’Is it just you here?’’

‘’Yeah,’’ He nodded, a small smile on his lips. It almost looked sad, ‘’If you don’t count my servants.’’

The dinner was pleasant, surprisingly. There wasn’t much conversation, but a simple comfortable silence with the occasional comment about the delicious cuisines that were offered. While you were gazing around the room, chewing your food in content, Jungkook’s eyes were completely transfixed on you. The way your nose scrunched slightly from the bitter aftertaste of the wine. The way you continuously placed strands of your hair behind your ear, to just how enchanting you looked in the attire he’d dressed you in.

He felt lucky that he found you. Or rather, you found him. It couldn’t be anything but fate. Jungkook believed it. He stayed this way for a while, enjoying the silent admiration he was giving you. He hadn’t had this kind of company… Ever. It was new, and he didn’t want to let it go. Suddenly the silence felt suffocating.

‘’Sing for me.’’ Jungkook asked softly, swirling the wine glass in his hand. His eyes followed the flow of the liquid for a second before shifting his piercing gaze to your face.

You stopped yourself from questioning him, knowing he knows that you heard him the first time. But that didn’t mean your eyebrows weren’t raised in surprise. ‘’Okay.’’ After all, he had told you that he wanted to hear you sing one more time.

Jungkook’s doe eyes sparkled in awe as he leaned back in his chair, completely forgetting about the glass in his hand. He couldn’t even think, just listen-- and stare at you the second you got up from your chair and sing. The way your lips moved with every word, his eyes followed. The small gestures of your hands made him want to hold them. And the brightness in your eyes that he hadn’t noticed before, had his heart pounding heavily in his chest.

This is it. She’s the one.

While you sang, he’d slowly gotten up from his seat, placing the glass on the table to leave it behind. Approaching you, his hands reached out to grab your wrist and pull you close to his chest. Your singing stopped with a surprised yelp, staring at the little bracelet he was observing as he held your wrist up for the two of you to view.

‘’You know what this is?’’ He asked, grasping the little dangle decoration between his thumb and index finger.

‘’A dove?’’ You said, a bit confused as to what he meant. It was obviously a dove.

‘’Correct,’’ He chuckled, the endearing smile of his growing, ‘’A symbol of peace.’’ A piece of peace in Jungkook’s world.

You hum in agreement, still not sure what he’s implying. Trying to pull your wrist away, he willingly let go, but replaced the empty spot in his palm by placing it on your waist. This was awfully close, and you felt your face heat up in embarrassment.

‘’I-- thank you for the dinner… But, I should really get going now.’’ You glanced towards the window, seeing the sun shining bright, ‘’The storm has passed.’’

Jungkook’s smile faltered at your words, slowly morphing into a frown when you stepped away from his grasp. His hands fell to his sides, looking at you as if you had just torn his heart out of his chest. But you didn’t notice. ‘’Don’t leave.’’

You were on your way to the door, hand grasping the handle before his words stopped you, causing you to look over your shoulder at the prince. Silence filled the room, and the air grew thicker.

‘’I have to leave. I can’t stay here. I need to go home.’’

Jungkook sighed, clenching his jaw as he stared at the floor. He almost looked like a child throwing a tantrum when they didn’t get what they wished for. ‘’You can’t.’’ He murmured.

‘’Watch me.’’ You huffed, jerking the door open before stepping out into the grand hall, striding towards the door with a made up mind. You were going home, you shouldn’t get used to this lifestyle. It was only for one night. You made it to the grand entrance, pushing with your entire body strength and pulling at the handle-- but it wouldn’t budge. It was locked. Your eyes searched for a way to unlock it, you were inside of the building after all. Why couldn’t you open it?

‘’Y/N..’’ Jungkook startled you, appearing behind you so suddenly. His voice was calm, arms crossed over his chest. A concerned look played on his face.

‘’Why is the door locked?’’ You asked, confusion obvious in your expression as you let go of the handle to turn to him.

‘’I told you, you can’t leave.’’ He sighed, clacking his tongue in annoyance. Why didn’t you get it?

‘’Why?’’

‘’I want you to stay… Be my little bird.’’

‘’What… what do you mean ‘little bird’?’’

‘’Sing for me, always.’’ The look in his eye was serious, yet gentle. He stepped closer, reaching out to delicately take your hands in his own, ‘’I will take care of you, everything you need is right here. Anything you want. Just please be mine.’’

Your mouth fell open, unable to speak or think of any witty comment to counter with. His words were sincere, the vulnerability in his expression along with his delicate touch had your heart skip a beat.. Or stop completely-- you weren’t sure. The logic in you told you no, this couldn’t be. He couldn’t love you this quickly, and neither could you. But your heart pumped these new emotions throughout your body, clouding any sense of what should and shouldn’t-- any logic thrown out the window. A part of you that grew with every second spent drowning in his dark eyes, your body decided to make the decision for you with a vague nod. 

‘’Say it.’’ Jungkook urged, his eyes sparkling with a layer of tears. Were they happy? Sad? Maybe both. He wanted to hear your sweet voice confirm, his own chest so tight it was hard to breathe. He squeezed your hands in his, ‘’Say you’ll be mine.’’

‘’I… I can’t say that yet.. I’m sorry.’’ You whispered, and you swore you could hear his heart audibly crack. But it was okay, he mused. You didn’t reject him-- but you didn’t accept him in your heart yet. All you needed was time.

‘’Y/N…’’ Jungkook pulled you closer to his chest, brushing your hair away from your face. As he spoke, his warm comforting breath fanned your lips, ‘’It’s okay, you don’t have to say it yet. Just… Stay with me.’’

You nodded, feeling your own eyes sting with the tears building up from his heavy emotions rubbing off on you. He smiled softly, palm carefully placed on your cheek to draw you in, closing the distance between your lips in a sweet kiss.

All he needed was patience.

~ ~ ~

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months spent in his castle. You hadn’t taken a single step outside since that stormy night, and it was as if you’d forgotten what grass felt like underneath your feet. However, the times he allowed you to sit with him on his balcony, the warm sun and chill breeze would bring you enough peace to satiate your need for the freedom you were robbed of.

It was complicated, the way you felt. Spending every single day with the prince, you’d gradually fallen for him, and become close enough for you to even start calling him by his first name. He spoiled you with everything you could ever want; clothes, jewelry, endless amounts of books and pretty things, flowers. He showered you in his affection, a large smile constantly on his face whenever he gave, gave and gave to you. He saw how you slowly opened up to him, and it made him so happy; nobody had ever seen the lonely prince this way before.

But at times when he wasn't home, out attending to his duties, you suddenly felt lonely. You had time to think about everything, and it scared you how much you missed Jungkook. However, what you had started to miss even more was your freedom… The life you had before you met the prince.

It was clear that you weren’t allowed to leave, every window was barred, and every door was locked. It was impossible. No matter, because at this point you were scared to live without him. You couldn’t.

So you opted for the one thing you knew, the one thing you had that was in your control.

You stood by your window, watching the birds chirp and fly by, feeling the warmth of the sun rays beaming at your skin in stripes through the bars. You sang your heart out. 

In the beginning, your singing was bright and full of life, proud of how Jungkook admired your voice.

But lately, your tune was laced with melancholy.

~ ~ ~

Jungkook heard your voice as he strode through the hallway, feeling his heart jump at the beautiful sound. Lately, your voice had gotten more and more bewitching. He was obsessed with the sadness in your vocals. He carefully peeked in through the crack of the door as he opened it, and the sight before him was breathtaking. You looked like a goddess with the sun glowing on your skin, eyes closed as you were completely indulged in your song. 

He loved you so much, nothing or nobody could ever compare, nor could anybody intervene. You were his, kept safe in this castle for the rest of your life.

After a long moment of admiring you, Jungkook finally opened the door to step inside, quietly strolling over to stand behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, letting his hands settle on your stomach as he pressed his chest against your back, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. Your singing ceased, eyes widening in surprise at his sudden appearance. Just as quickly as your body tensed up, it relaxed in his embrace.

“You sing so pretty, my little dove,” he cooed into your ear as he held you tight. His hands splayed against your stomach and rubbed gently, carefully and slowly moving upwards. Your breath caught in your throat and you felt your body tingle with a mixture of fright and excitement, warmth blooming where his hands trailed.

Jungkook turned you in his arms, pressed his chest against yours as his fingers caressed the side of your delicate face, a loving smile on his lips. He moved slowly, with intention, towards the plush bed behind you. His eyes never left yours, peering into them as if he could see your inner most desires. It made your body feel engulfed in flame.

“Please, let me have you,” the prince asked. His voice was sweet, pleading and desperate. He guided you towards the bed and the press of the firm mattress behind your knees made you fall with a soft gasp escaping your lips.  “I need you, my love. I need to taste you, please.”

You found it hard to say no, hard to say anything at all despite the warnings sounding in your head. As confused by him and this entire situation as you were, you couldn’t help the magnetic pull you felt when he held you close, or the way your heart throbbed when he was around. 

“Y-yes,” you replied, voice timid. 

His body hovered over you, lips inches from your own and you felt your body press further and further into the bed as he encroached over you. 

“Yes, what, little bird?” He asked. His voice was light—sensitive and loving. His eyes spoke volumes. He looked at you as if he wanted to claim every inch of you, make you his physically and emotionally for the rest of his life. 

You swallowed hard as you lied down, head resting on the soft pillows, as your eyes connected with his. Any doubt had slowly left you as the warmth of his body seeped into your clothes and into your very core. It felt like a fire was building, growing larger and more intense, in the center of your thighs. 

“Yes, please,” you whispered.  

Your answer pleased the prince—he moved down further until his lips connected with yours. His hips pressed into your own and you could feel his hard length against you—making you gasp into his kiss. 

It spurred Jungkook on, his tongue taking advantage and sliding into your open mouth to caress and lick at your own tongue. He moaned lightly at the taste of you, so sweet and perfect—just like you. He wanted to taste it for the rest of his life, have the sweet essence of you on his tongue every single night. He was sure if your mouth tasted so sweet, your drenched folds would taste even better.  

“Let me see you,” he whispered as he pulled away from your honeyed lips.  “Please.”

His voice was so desperate--so full of love and desire for you that the fire within you blazed higher. It was becoming harder and harder to resist the prince at all, and you found yourself wondering why you ever resisted in the first place.

After receiving your consent in the form of a nod, Jungkook pushed the fabric of your dress up from your thighs. His strong hands smoothed over the soft, plush skin and you shivered at the feeling of his warmth that lingered where he touched.  He continued pushing the dress up until it exposed your stomach and core to him. 

His eyes explored every inch of your body.  He was mesmerized by the way your stomach curved and your hips swelled. Your body was finer than any of the paintings in his castle, more valuable than the jewels glittering in his reserves. His breath came out heavier as his vision trailed to the linen of your panties, the very ones he provided for you. Jungkook loved the way you looked in the clothes he picked especially for you--his gorgeous, little songbird.

Your hands clutched at the bunched material of your dress and you desperately sought to take it off, expose yourself fully to the handsome prince above you. Your body squirmed as he continued drinking you in, hurrying to take the rest of the fine dress off your body. Jungkook noticed your discomfort, and moved to help you pull the dress up and over your head. The gesture was sweet, so sweet it felt like an ache in your heart and your core.  

Jungkook threw the garment aside, no care for the price or quality of the dress. His only care was you, now nearly naked and pliant underneath him. If he thought the hills and valleys of your thighs were mesmerizing, he was wholly unprepared for the sight of your breasts.

He could feel his mouth drying up as he watched your nipples prickle in the chill of the castle’s air.  He was sure he stopped breathing as he watched your chest rise and fall with each deliberate breath you brought in and expelled.  He felt his tongue dart out of his mouth to moisten his lips, eyes glued to the pretty pink nubs of your breasts.

“My dove,” he gasped. 

Your eyes were wide, pupils blown with a mixture of anxiety and lust, and your hands sought to grab at the cloth of his shirt.

“Please, Jungkook,” you whined softly. Being so exposed, so vulnerable to the man above you made you needier by the second. You were sure you couldn’t stand another minute under his intense gaze without him touching you somewhere, anywhere.

Jungkook’s eyes slipped closed at the sound of his name rolling off your sweet tongue. He felt his body nearly tremble, and he knew he needed to hear it for the rest of his life. There was no way he could let you go now, now that he would have you fully.

“What do you need, my love?” He asked as he smoothed a hand over your delicate stomach and up towards your ribs.  “Tell me what you need, and I’ll give you everything you could ever want.”

Your back arched off the bed as his warm hand pursued up your body until it summited the crest of your breast. He marveled at the way his hands fit over the soft globes, and how perfectly they fit in his palms. He knew you were made for him--that you were the only one meant to be with him. Everything about you reminded him that you were made for him.

His fingers pinched at a nipple and he sighed as he heard your soft, gentle squeak at the pinch.  His stomach tightened painfully, and his cock strained hard against the linen of his pants. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself between your plush thighs, but he knew he needed to to worship you, to make you feel like the princess you would soon become.

In one swift movement, his head bowed down piously to pull a nipple into his mouth while his fingers maintained pressure on the other. He moaned around the bud in his lips, the way it felt against his tongue and the sweet flavor of your skin. Your keening gasps and sighs encouraged him, making him suck the nub in further and tongue swirl around it. 

Your body felt grazed with tiny pinpricks of pleasure, electrifying you down to your veins. You have never felt such pleasure in your life, never knowing the touch of a man. But you’re sure that no man could compare to the way the prince felt above you, pressing his worshipful kisses to your breasts.

Jungkook switched to your other breast, frenzied to taste and consume you--every last inch. He fervidly licked at your prickled nub before he pulled it into his mouth and allowed his tongue to explore and pleasure it.

“J-Jungkook!” You gasped at the feeling. His other hand rubbed and pinched at your abused nipple so well it made your legs tremble.  

He popped off your breasts but maintained his grip on you with his hands, a toothy smile brightening his features as he peered at you.

“Yes, my dove?” He asked as innocently as he could. He knew this action was driving you mad. He could tell by the way your hips bucked and swayed that your channel would be slick and burning with desire by now.

“More, please,” you begged. “I need you to take me.”

Jungkook kissed his way down your sternum, lavishing kisses at your navel and skin of your thighs. He wanted no part of you left untouched, unclaimed by him. He meant to have you in every sense of the word. The prince was determined to ensure every single part of you was conquered by him, and him only.  

Jungkook was eager to get the remaining fabric off you. His deft fingers swiped at your covered slit, smiling as he felt the wetness pooling there.  He hummed deep in his throat as he made himself comfortable between your thighs. Jungkook noticed how comfortable, how natural it felt to be between your thick thighs.  He wanted to leave marks all over them, physical reminders of his claim of you.

You stirred gently, awkwardly, at the intense gaze that the prince was holding with your barely covered decency.   His stare was intense--it fanned the flames within you, making them lick hotly at every inch of your being.

Jungkook tugged at the thin fabric between your thighs, pulling it down your legs gently, as if he was unwrapping the finest and most delicate china.  His breath caught in his throat as he threw them to the side and your centre became exposed to him.  You bloomed below him like the most beautiful rose, petals opening and slick with arousal.  His tongue sought out of his mouth, anxious for a taste of what he was sure to be the most delicious nectar.

“My beautiful,” he sighed as his hands pressed your legs further apart.  You whimpered gently, the feeling of the cold air rolling over your heated body was nearly driving you insane.  Jungkook stared at you as if you were his final, mortal meal.  Jungkook nearly salivated at the sound and the way your legs trembled with need--...need for him.

His face inched closer and close, desperate to be buried face first in your pretty cunt, but careful not to scare you.  Jungkook loved you, passionately and desperately, and he quaked at the thought of terrifying you further. You were his little dove--you needed to be loved slowly, gently.  

“I want to taste you, my love,” he murmured as his face settled centimeters from your exposed folds.  “Please, will you let me have you?”

Your bottom lip trembled, and your eyes were wide with arousal.  The growing ache and need for him was surging through your veins swiftly, swirling in your mind and clouding any thought that wasn’t the handsome prince, and the way his hands and body felt against yours.  All you could think, all you could comprehend was him--only him.

Your head nodded quickly in reply. “Yes, please, sir.”

Jungkook stifled a groan at the sound of the honorific leaving you.  His spine tingled and he nearly lost all resolve to remain composed.  You drove him mad, and it took all he had to not claim you fully and deeply there, now.

With a gentle kiss to each side of your luscious thighs, Jungkook worshiped each inch of your skin as he worked towards the apex.  He let the sounds of your pleasured sighs and keening gasps roll over him like fine silk.  As he reached your center, he gently bowed his head and pressed a soft kiss to your clit, before allowing his tongue to dart out and taste a droplet of your slick.  

He pulled his head back and closed his eyes in bliss as the flavor blossomed on his tongue.  You tasted so sweet, and earthy.  Like a mulled wine, sweet and honeyed and intoxicating. 

“Perfect,” he admired as he lowered his head back down. “I knew you’d taste so sweet, so perfect.”

Jungkook eagerly got to work now, tongue gently caressing the nub of nerves that had your legs quaking at each tender lick.  He couldn’t get enough of the way you felt, succumbed to his desire and pliant underneath him.  He wished to be buried in your sweet cunt for ever, both mouth and cock.  He knew now, irrevocably, he would never be able to live without you.

He drank from you as if you were the last fountain on earth, the only source of his hydration.  His tongue worked eagerly, dipping into the pools of your tight heat and licking up the sweet wetness that pooled.  He couldn’t fathom how one little angel could taste so sweet, feel so good against his tongue.  

Your sweet sighs and moans spurred him on.  Your legs trembled gently and with each caress of his tongue on your nub, your sounds only increased in volume and in need.  The prince was eager to get you to your high, make you feel euphoria caused by him and him only.

Your legs quivered and you gasped his name, and he couldn’t help but smile.  A finger slid into your walls, coaxing your climax with each curl and press of his finger against the tender spot inside you.  It made you nearly scream with how delicious it felt, and Jungkook knew you were near the end. He increased his pressure and speed of his tongue, and curled another finger inside of you.

“Cum for me, my love,” he encouraged between licks. “Let me taste you.”

You were no match for him and his words, dripping in unadulterated love and need.  His eyes connected with yours and your climax washed over you swiftly.  Your back arched and hips squirmed as your walls fluttered and milked his fingers, begging for more--so much more.

Jungkook fervidly licked at the juices that slowly trickled down his fingers from within you, cleaning his hand as he let it slide from within you.

“My little dove,” he sighed. “You taste so sweet when you cum for me.”

Your breaths came out hard, as if your lungs hadn’t worked for hours. You inhaled sharply as you watched him continue to devour the juices on his hands and you felt your spine tingle in response.

Jungkook’s hard length was hard against his trousers and you were desperate now to have the man buried inside you.

“Jungkook, please,” you gasped, hands reaching for the man who now sat above you.  “Please, take me.”

The prince’s heart nearly melted to the floor of the castle at your desperate plea.   You were his, you knew now that you were his. He made quick work of the cotton trousers and shirt, tearing them off his body until he was just as naked as you.  He knew this is how he wanted to be, always.  No clothes, no barriers, nothing to stand in between him and you, his perfect little dove.

“I’m here,” he soothed as he pressed his lips to yours.  “Let me take care of you, my princess.”

He easily lined himself up with your heat, rubbing the bulbous head against the slick and nearly entering when you swiftly grabbed his arms and stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.

“I-I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, shame coloring your cheeks. “Please… please don’t hurt me.”

Jungkook stopped breathing, the world stopped turning.  He couldn’t believe his luck--his dove, his princess... all his. You would become his in every sense of the word. He will have what no man has ever had before, and never get the chance to take. He kissed at your lips gently and nodded.

“I’d rather cut off my own hand than hurt you even once.” 

Your eyes softened, soothed by his words and actions, and you nodded gently. 

“Take me, Jungkook.”  Your words were brave, and ready.  Jungkook felt his cock twitch with excitement, and he pressed one final kiss to your lips as he lined himself up and pushed in gently.

Jungkook pulled away from your lips to gasp.  Never had he felt such incredible, tight heat.  He could tell by the scrunch of your features that you were adjusting to his thick length. Despite your first climax, your body still resisted the press of his cock inside you.  It felt like scorching wet heat and the tightness alone nearly made the prince cum as he bottomed out.

He remained still within you as your body relaxed.  His hands rubbed gently at your hips and thighs, caressing them sweetly as he whispered his praise to you.

“You took me so well,” he murmured.  “My little dove, so good for me.  You’re doing so well.”

You whimpered out in need, desire for him to move inside you.  The pain melted away to pleasure quickly, and you’re thankful he spent so much time preparing you with his mouth and fingers. The tender care the Prince showered on you made your heart beat rapidly against your chest, working over time like the beat of a bird’s.  

“Are you ready, my sweet?” He asked. He could feel his cock ache with the need to set a pace, to feel the way your walls stroke him, but he would not allow himself such pleasure without your word.

“Take me, Jungkook, I’m yours.”

He moaned loudly, allowing the possessiveness of your voice to spur him to begin.

He started his movements slow and with intention.  Each drag out and thrust in, he monitored your face for any sign of displeasure. When all that crossed your features was blissful pleasure, he moved faster.  

Your body relaxed ten-fold as the man above you began to drill harder into you. The pain of the stretch was nearly gone by now, replaced only by a sizzling bliss that had your mouth gaping open and begging for more. Sweat began to gather at the prince’s brow and you’re taken by how handsome he is, how truly carnal he looks as he pounds into you with no abandon.  

Your walls accommodate him perfectly, gripping him tight while still allowing passage. Jungkook felt as if your very cunt was made for him, molded to be his exact match. He could feel himself nearing closer and closer to the edge of bliss--climbing so high to the peaks of climax.

Your body was racked with pleasure. It poured out of your body in sweet sighs and torrential trembles. With each delicious push and pull of his cock within you, the fire grew and grew. It swirled around your body, clawed at your neck and clouded your mind with smoke. All you knew was Jungkook, his thick length, his warm body, and the way his eyes burned holes into yours.  Each thrust sent you so much closer to another dizzying peak and your fingers gripped at his arms tighter.

He could tell by the rapture on your face that you were close--could feel it in the fluttering of your walls.

“Cum for me,” he groaned. “Let go, little dove. Let me feel you.”

You whimpered needily, groaning as the prince continued to thrust into you at a turbulent speed. He licked his thumb before allowing it to circle your clit, the bundle of nerves nearly screaming to life as he stimulated it.

Jungkook licked his lips as he watched your body come nearly undone at his touch. He could feel the way his body was building and climbing towards a grand finish, one he wanted to bury deep inside you.

“G-going to cum,” he groaned as he increased his strokes. ‘’I will fill you so well, you feel so good..’’

Never had you felt closer to another person, another man. Jungkook was truly the only one in the world for you, and you could never stray away. His hands gripped you tight and possessively as he powered his way to his finish.

“P-please!” You gasped as your vision started to dot with black spots. You couldn’t speak, breath overtaken by gasps and whimpers of need, as your body finally peaked at it’s high. Your moans were loud as you soared into the blissful pool that only Jungkook had ever taken you to. Your walls contracted around him tightly, squeezing and coaxing his cock to release his own pleasure inside you.

Jungkook lasted mere seconds after feeling youl grip him so tightly, and hearing your sweet dulcet voice sing praises and whines. His cock pulsed as he emptied himself into you, hot cum painting your sweet walls and pooling in your womb.

A long moment followed where Jungkook was just.. staring down at your exhausted form from above. His overgrown fringe clung to his clammy skin, lips swollen from biting down on them more often than not, and chest heaving up and down as he emotionally gathered himself back into one piece after shattering for you.

‘‘My love,’’ He whispered as he leaned down over you once more, sweaty skin sticking together. But no matter, he wouldn’t want you any other way right this moment. He gently moved his lips against yours, all while still keeping himself deep inside of you, making sure nothing would be spilled to waste, ‘‘My beautiful Y/N.’‘

A small smile tugged at your lips when he calls you by your first name. You reach out to brush his fringe away from his forehead, combing his dark, soft locks with your fingers, ‘’My dear Jungkook.’’

Jungkook’s heart almost stopped. You’d said a lot of things, you’d even given him your body. But you had never, ever had referred to him with any term of endearment until now. It was always his name, or his title.

‘‘What did you just say?’’ He asked, one hand cupping your face gently to guide your eyes to meet his own. He looked at you with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, but if you tried to name them, it’d be a mix of confusion, joy, and relief.

‘‘My dear,’‘ You paused to place your hand on top of his, leaning your cheek into his palm further, ‘‘Jungkook.’‘

Jungkook’s hot breath fanned your lips as he sighed in content, eyes still fixed on you. He kissed you once, softly, before pulling back to look at you again.

‘‘Please say it now’’ He asked quietly. The hint of sadness and desperation wasn’t evident in his voice, however, his eyes didn’t lie. They were wide, intensely focused on your every single reaction as he anticipated your answer, ‘’Say you’ll be mine.’’

You were already his in every sense of the word, except one. He needed you to say it yourself.

And who were you to resist the prince?

‘‘I’ll be yours.’‘ You finally broke the silence. Jungkook’s eyes flickered between yours with his doe ones, desperately trying to find any sign of lies. But instead, all he could see was utter affection, and your truthful words finally sank in.

‘’Be my wife.’‘ Jungkook continued, leaning his forehead against yours, ‘‘I love you. I promise to always love you. Nobody else will be able to take care of you the way I can.’‘

You nod, a quiet ‘yes’ leaving your lips before you crane your neck to kiss him. You might’ve been confused, frightened, and even sad at times-- but now? You were happy.

Happy to belong to the prince.

Jungkook smiles against your lips, he couldn’t believe he was so lucky to have found you. 

Or rather, you had found him.

Either way, it couldn’t have been anything but fate. And.. Jungkook believed in that. 

© sombreboy 2020. Do not edit, repost or translate.

[dismalzelenka]

Would love to see how Inquisitor Ted Templar handles a war council meeting. Happy writing!

@dadrunkwriting has unleashed a monster. Anyway. :3 So begins the tale of Ted Templar, Definitely Not A Templar. Can also be found on AO3 where I have started a compilation.

:>

Lily has better things to do than run errands. Like cleaning up her new room, maybe picking splinters from the ceiling out of her bed — although it was a Very Good bed, and a massive improvement from sleeping on the ground — or maybe swiping a couple of apple tarts from the kitchens and attempting to woo that pretty girl in the guard. (She'd recently discovered Pretty Guard Girl's name was Elysia, which was, in her humble opinion, way too nice of a name for someone who swings a sword around all day.)

So, of course, when she hears there's a war council meeting going on, she decides she simply has to investigate.

She sneaks down the hallway and deposits her satchel of scrolls in the corner. They're full of incomprehensible arcane gibberish, anyway, and the only people in this keep who would be interested in them are the people they're supposed to be delivered to, so she's not exactly worried.

She's never met the Inquisitor. Truthfully, he's so rarely in Skyhold, she's never even seen him before. And the rumors don't help. Everything she hears about him is contradictory. One day, she'd spent an entire day wandering the grounds asking everyone about him, and by the end of the day, she's cobbled together that he's either seven feet tall or scarcely a head over that dwarven arcanist in the Undercroft. He's a Templar, but also definitely not a Templar. He's soft spoken. His voice booms with the strength of a thousand war cries. (She doubts that last one, because surely, she'd have heard him, right?) Depending on who's talking, he's either the best, most gods-given thing to happen to Thedas in an Age, or the most villainous cretin to ever set foot in the Frostbacks.

Fascinatingly enough, no one can tell her why.

"Maker's breath, let us begin already." The Commander's exasperated voice trickles through the door. She leans her weight on it and glues her eye to the keyhole. It takes a few tries to get the angle right — at first, all she can see is that ridiculous furry coat and a sliver of blonde hair, and you know, she really wants to like Commander Cullen, as much as she really wants to like anyone, but she's seen him leaving the baths once, and anyone who layers that much product into his hair while claiming not to be even a sliver Orlesian is clearly hiding something.

"Alright, Commander, no need to get your britches in a bundle. What's this I'm hearing about Lady Maximillian kicking up a ruckus over that bridge you built?"

Lily's eyes widen in excitement. That must be the Inquisitor. She squints through the hole and silently begs him to walk across the room. He doesn't seem particularly loud or soft-spoken, and really, everything about his voice strikes her as utterly average.

Fascinating.

"Excellent." Lady Josephine claps her hands. There's a faint rustle of paper. "Inquisitor Templar—"

Lily freezes, hand over her mouth. The Inquisitor is definitely a Templar. Oh, Maker, in her experience, Templars rarely have benign consequences for upstart mages eavesdropping on their plans. Worst of all, she's too invested to tear herself away.

"Please, ma'am, just Ted is fine. Seeing as I'm not actually a Templar."

Wait, what?

She readjusts and squints harder through the lock. If he could just move a few more steps to his right—

Her sleeve catches on the door handle. She realizes this in abject horror as the latch turns, the door swings open with a deafening groan, and Lily tumbles flat on her face with a terrified squeak.

She looks up to four faces wearing vastly different expressions. The Commander is, predictably, gravely irritated. He's got a twitching vein in his forehead and a sour frown as he drags his gloved hand down his face. The Spymaster looks intrigued and a little amused, which Lily finds utterly terrifying. Lady Josephine is trying desperately to smother a giggle behind her hand.

And then she finds herself face to face with Inquisitor Ted/Templar Who Is Not Actually A Templar.

He looks, if possible, even more average than he sounds. If someone were to look up the words "average middle-aged man" in a dictionary, Lily thinks maybe the Inquisitor's face would be printed next to the entry. She's pretty sure the second she leaves this room, the finer details of that face are going to erase themselves from her memory entirely.

But his eyes are kind, and the surprise gives way to a warm smile as he holds out a hand to help her up.

She flinches at first — she's heard stories about the Magic Inquisitor Hand — but she realizes the glowing one is leaned casually against the side of the table. Of course he would use the normal one. She begins to feel even more like an idiot as she lets him pull her to her feet, but even still—

"So, little lady, what's your name?"

"Lily," she squeaks. "Please, Ser, don't Smite me, I won't tell anyone anything, honest. I don't even know who Lady Mas-Maxi-Maly-whatever is—"

This time, the Commander cracks a snort. "Oh, dear," is all Lady Josephine says.

Inquisitor Templar heaves a long, heavy sigh. "Don't you worry none, miss. Templar's just the name. Don't even know how to swing a sword all that well."

"It's a miracle he's still alive, really," the Commander says dryly.

"Who are we to question the will of the Maker?" Sister Leliana says cheerfully, and there is definitely something buried in that statement Lily doesn't think is all that Maker-ful at all, but she opts to do the smart thing for once and keep her mouth closed. "You're an errand girl for the mages, yes? Do you like your post, Lily?"

She shakes her head before she can stop herself. "It's boring," she blurts out.

"Mmhm. Tell me, Lily, can you recite the contents of that letter you have tucked into your pocket with remarkable carelessness?"

Lily panics. Inquisitor Templar (Ted, not a Templar, she corrects herself) offers a reassuring nod. "Go on. Nothing in there she don't already know."

Right. Of course. Lily takes a deep breath, clears her throat, and rattles off the missive. She's always had a good memory, but then, doesn't anyone who gets anywhere in the Circle have to? It's not her fault she's never been very good at all the other stuff.

Sister Leliana nods thoughtfully. "Do you want a different job, errand girl?"

And that's it. That's all it takes. She's instructed to sit quietly in the corner and observe, and the leaders of the Inquisition go back to their meeting like she'd never barged in on them.

Inquisitor Ted Templar isn't what she expected. But then, as it turns out, neither are the rest of them.

[theboysfanfic]

Komm Zu Mir | Part 7

Vampire the Masquerade AU

Pairing: Ventrue!Homelander x f!Reader

Warnings: 18 + only. This story will contain smut/sex so you have to be over 18 to read it.

Words: 1, 619

Summary: After that perfect night, realisation and indecision is brewing.

Credit: Dividers by @firefly-graphics x

SpookTober2021 Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It was utterly perfect but also imperfect.

There's a residue of pain at my neck. Like a remainder of some ghost injury I feel I should have had, but there's no pain.

My hand rises to the place under the choker, feeling for anything to indicated grazes, cuts, or marks. Nothing. I take off the choker, I look and there are dried blood stains on it.

I'm partly wrapped in the black bedding, some of it falling onto the floor. He's next to me, half of him snuggled into my shoulder, his face up into my neck, his eyes level with my jaw. He's sleeping. He looks really peaceful.

What did we just do. What did I do? No it's ok, it was fucking amazing. He was amazing.

I press myself into him. Hug him. His glasses are off, his light brunette lashes curving gently. I resist the urge to kiss his mouth. If he noticed I don't what I'd do. But after the night we've had, what would it matter?

I'm overthinking. Am I? Oh my God, he wasn't..

I convinced myself it was ok to...wait no, that didn't really happen like that right?

I sink into the bed arms wrapped around John, sinking into the moment, the comfort of his embrace. Imperfect in the way that my thoughts are racing. I try to calm myself and stay in the moment and in the comfort of him.

..

He lies still but he's not asleep. It's not the time to sleep for him. He can feel every move she makes, every look she gives him, every flinch of her hand that almost moves towards him, towards his face and the hesitancy of her to kiss his face. He finally feels the weight of her hands around him in a an embrace. He waits until she falls asleep again to open his eyes. He watches her all night, just lies there still, unmoving. His eyelids flutter every so often, his lashes move as he blinks lying next to her, he doesn't rush to leave. He wants to stay as long as he can knowing he would have to leave before morning. He would have to leave her and it hurts him to know she will be upset. His eyes move over her face, over her body lying peacefully. He has to move before she wakes up again, before she begs him to stay with her and wake with her. Before the danger of her realising he doesn't have a heartbeat to rest against. He hopes she doesn't notice.

..

I reach out over the bed to touch him. I can't feel him. I open my eyes to look around, to see him so I can be sure he's there. My eyes open and John isn't here. I can't see outside to tell the time, to check the light.

I go to the mirror in his en-suite, it's completely dark without windows, I see the shadows in the room and part of my reflection in the dark. I don't switch the light on. I remind myself of last night's events and look away trying to shake my worries and hide my face form myself.

I try the door to his room and it's locked. There's no latch or keyhole on this side. I place my palms flat on the door.

I can't leave here, I'm locked in.

I see a shadow under the door and a note slips under.

Help yourself to breakfast and there's a driver for you if you need them. Knock on the door when you need me for anything.

Why would he leave me locked in? But that isn't John's handwriting. What is happening?

I knock on the door. Lightly.

Footsteps shuffle outside and the lock clicks turns and opens. A man stands on the other side.

'What can I help you with miss?' He says.

I stare not knowing what to say.

'Is John there?' I say after a few seconds of silence.

'He isn't. But you have the house to yourself.'

'Will he be back?'

'I don't know that miss. You can stay here and have breakfast, I can fix you anything you want, if you are ready to leave I'll arrange transport transport you just let me know.'

'Are you a butler?'

'No.' he says.

'Why was,' I turn to the door as I leave the room and point, 'was the door locked?'

He has a serene look on his face, one arm folded in front of him, the other by his side. 'Sir instructed me to lock it.'

'Sir? Why would he? He left me alone..'

'It would have been unlocked if he wasn't with you for some time. And I was not sure when he would be leaving.'

'You knew he would leave?'

He stares blankly and doesn't respond.

How do I make sense of this. No this isn't right.

'Can you take me home? Why is it up to you to tell me where he went? I need to text him.'

'Miss, it would he better if you don't. I'll be with you today, and you can see Sir later.'

'Wait why? He can't even reply to me? He leaves me with, no offense to you, but he leaves me with a person I've never met, and you're telling me I shouldn't contact him? What is this? I think I need to go.'

'Miss I'm going to be in the kitchen please feel free to sit in the lounge. Let me know.' He turns on his heel.

I'm starting to get angry and this situation isn't al that I hoped for. Due to the night I've had and the danger of the consequences I decide to hang around maybe and hope for the best that he does return. But it won't be easy to stay.

I'm sitting on the plush sofas, as he calls to me.

'Miss, there's something for you I've prepared, Sir asked me to make sure you have something to eat.'

He brings out a silver tray with plates and a fresh berry smoothie.

I don't reply I just stare. He sets the tray down on the coffee table for me. I remember to reply.

'Thank you.

I try to make sense of something, anything, my eyes are glazed over and I can't focus on a decision. I wonder if I will look pathetic staying here in light of the situation, waiting around for him until who knows when?

I end up wolfing down the breakfast, it's the best breakfast I've had for ages. I'm sitting with the half empty glass of strawberry smoothie, staring into space. Just thinking.

- Hey Liza, I stayed with a guy last night in Chelsea, near Hudson Yards. Can u come get me? I don't know what's happening. -

- Hey u ok? Ill come get u. -

Ping.

- Scratch that. My uncle will get u he knows the area. He says he'll pick u up. -

-Ok.-

I realise there is light in this room. I move to the windows and move the curtains out of the way fully. The cold light of morning is filtering through the trees and it is foggy out there. I stare out of the window when I hear the whistle of a kettle in the kitchen.

'Miss, would you like a tea?'

'I..uhh,' I lean back from holding the curtains, turn to the butler and politely agree to a tea with milk, no sugar.

The steam from the hot tea is rising up and my hair is tangling around my fingers, as I'm endlessly twirling it, knotted and messy. I take my makeup mirror to the window, in the cold pale light, I don't recognise myself as a woman who would be here, in this situation, I don't even know if this is better or worse than what I imagined a one night stand would be.

I messed up even worse than that. How could I? I try to clean myself up and take off my makeup.

I don't feel much better.

Ping.

- Robert is here. -

'Hey, sorry I don't know your name, umm, I have someone coming to pick me up now. thank you but I'm gonna have to go.'

The butler nods then hesitates, startled.

'Miss, you didn't tell them to come here? You shouldn't do that. I have a car for you to take you home. Sir asked to do it this way.'

There's a ring at the doorbell. The man turns and walks to the intercom.

'Robert! Ok come in!' he turns to me, surprised and relieved.

Robert Larson comes into the the apartment, scans for me immediately and finds me sitting with my tea looking sad.

'Hey,' he says sitting down carefully with me, 'Liza told me you were here and I knew where she meant by the location. And I know who she meant you were with.'

'Wait, how did you...you know him?'

'I know him yes,' he looks at me worried, 'it's best you are not here right now, if you feel like this. You look upset, come let me take you back.'

'Wait you too?' I lower my voice looking over towards the butler signalling with my eyes, 'he keeps being vague with me, and there's no sign of...'

'Of John. Yeah. '

'How do you know?'

He doesn't respond just looks concerned.

'Look you're not making this any easier, I'm more freaked out now. Did Liza tell you anything else?'

'No, but it's enough to know.'

'I don't think...'

'You can stay here, cause he will be back, but you're not in a good mood to see him.'

I'm silent.

'Well let's go, you can tell me if you want in the car.'

Previous | Next

[pur-pled-aw-thor]

The Truth

Sherlock x Reader

Summary: Y/n has been keeping up the truth everyone, but one day the truth will afloat.

Word count: 4.9k (whaaat the-)

Warnings: none

GIF not mine

THIRD POV

Saturdays are meant for having fun or just staying inside your room and rest. But of course Y/n's life isn't like that. Especially she's working with Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson.

"You know we can just leave this case with Lestrade right?" Y/n asked the tall man in front of her.

"If you would just look up the security footage, then sure we can turn those over and continue this." Sherlock said not even looking at Y/n. John is busy with searching more about it, or trying to update his blog.

After a few, ten, tries Y/n got in the security and downloaded all of the footage from last night and prior the incident.

"It's already downloading, just wait for a few minutes." She stated standing up and went to the kitchen for some tea. But then she heard her phone's notification is blowing up. Sighing in annoyance, she placed down the kettle and got her phone.

-Mr. Blabbermouth

• Why on Earth is my brother on a case again

• Don't tell me you've downloaded something again

• Meet me in British Public Library, 20 minutes.

• Do bring your I.D, we'll be staying for a while.

Y/n read the texts and tried to choose, get rid of him and continue drinking tea, or get rid of him and continue drinking tea.

'Either way my life will still be a mess.' She thought and sighed. Getting her coat and tying her hair up, John looked up from his screen.

"Where are you going?" He asked, causing Sherlock to look also at the y/h/c girl.

"I need to go to my mum's house, she needs help with my sister." She lied, like what she's been doing for a long time.

"Well what about the footage?" Watson asked pointing at the laptop on the couch. "It'll be done in 15 minutes, after that it'll automatically leave the site." She said adjusting the timer and entering her code.

"Okay just take care." Watson said smiling at her. Nodding, she immediately went downstairs and passed by Mrs. Hudson.

"Where are you going?" "To my mum's, Mrs. Hudson!" She exclaimed leaving faster.

Walking down the streets of London, the cold breeze of the morning is never new to Y/n. It made her feel happy that she chose to change her life.

Upon reaching the Library, a car parked by the curb. The person got out and Y/n followed.

She knew this whole place like it was just the alphabet, but more on security and alarms.

She walked through shelves and shelves of books until she reached a corner, her corner. The person is already sitting down flipping the pages of a book.

"I know you did something just to help my brother again, and I would like to know what." He stated, well demanding.

"It would've been better if you were the one to ask him, Mycroft." Y/n said confidently, not feeling any intimidation from the man.

"It's better if he knows about the truth." He said proudly. "Do sit, Y/n. It is your ridiculous corner after all." She removed her coat and hung it on the chair.

"Tell him the truth and I'll visit him." "I would rather let you get hit by a train before the truth leaves my mouth." Y/n said rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.

"Any truth will be accepted." "I don't have that much of a choice." "The past or the present. You decide." "Neither, Mycroft. You're basically the British Government, so how can you not know anything about what's happening in 221-B Baker Street?!" Y/n almost shouted at the man in front of her. The man snapped the book close, Y/n didn't even flinched.

"Just tell me and we can wrap this up." He said and Y/n sighed. "It's about those random killings that don't make sense." She said rolling her eyes. "It does make sense to Sherlock Holmes." Mycroft stood up from the chair and got his umbrella.

"It's easy for you to tell me the truth but never to Sherlock." He said turning towards the aisle. "One day the truth will afloat, Y/n. Good day." He said walking away from the corner.

Y/n stared at the chair in front of her and tried not to let Mycroft inside her head.

"I made a promise to be careful with my choices and whom to trust. I can't break that." Y/n said to herself, trying to remember what happened 3 years ago.

3 years ago

'I can live by myself and made the right decision, yeah?' Y/n asked herself while the man pulled up on the curb.

'I hope so.' she got out of the cab and the man helped her carry her stuff inside the building. She paid generously and took up the boxes herself.

When she was about to get the last box, she ran into the landlady carrying a tray of tea.

"Oh hello dear! You're already here, you have your keys right? Anything you need?" Y/n smiled at the landlady's kindness.

"No Mrs. Hudson, I was just about to get the last box from downstairs." She said politely and got curious about whose tea is she bringing.

"I'll see you for a while dear, I need to bring this up." Mrs. Hudson said and continued to ascend the stairs.

"You should stop hoarding books, it's gathering up dust." She heard Mrs. Hudson scold at the other flat beside hers.

"Well if you would clean up then they won't, Mrs. Hudson." A man with a deep but smooth voice said.

"I'm your landlady, Sherlock. Not your housekeeper." Mrs. Hudson exclaimed storming out of the flat and passing by Y/n.

'I'm still wondering how Mrs. Hudson never noticed.' Y/n asked herself while placing the box down and tried to search for the key to her flat.

"It's the silver key with a round head and a line engraved horizontally." She looked around and saw him.

'Sherlock Holmes'

She got the key and it fits in the keyhole. She silently chuckled to herself for being smarted up by him.

But then she realized what Sherlock Holmes would have done for the past 2 minutes she was just standing there.

She immediately went inside and closed the door. She heard about Sherlock Holmes and his talents in being a detective. Most of the policemen don't take him seriously because of his assumptions and ideas that he gives immediately.

But they are left befuddled because he is right all along.

"Great, the plan on living a new life is starting to crumble with him knowing who I am." She said face palming herself.

"As long as I'm not suspicious, he won't notice it." She said standing up and opened up the blinds.

A week

'Oh god no. Please no.' She said trying to feel every pocket and slot she has in her coat, pants and purse.

'I did forget my keys in.' she said kicking the door in frustration. She sat down by the steps and tried to call a locksmith.

A few calls later they all said they can't go to their street because it was filled with snow. They can help her tomorrow morning.

"Why did Mrs. Hudson need to leave today?" She said hugging her coat more to gather up warmth. Next week is already December and snow got here early.

She tried to pull her bonnet down more to cover her ears with her hair, but the draft coming from the upstairs and moving behind her got colder.

"At least my laptop isn't going to freeze overnight, lucky bastard." Y/n said rolling her eyes and huffing.

She heard shuffling from Sherlock Holmes' flat and saw him placing paper on the table. Sherlock saw Y/n and looked at the door to her flat.

He went closer and Y/n smiled in embarrassment, "I forgot my keys inside." She said paying attention to her gloves now.

Sherlock went back inside and started removing books and papers from the couch and placing them on the table or floor.

"You can stay here for a while. Who knows when Mrs. Hudson might return." He said leaning on the door frame.

Y/n stood up and passed by him, trying not to look like she's taking it up for granted. She sat down on the couch and Sherlock prepared tea.

Sherlock can't comprehend why he welcomed her into his flat even though he's only seen her every afternoon to get food and comeback with it.

And what disturbs him, is that he can't read her like everyone else. She's like, an unexplainable being.

Sitting down on his chair, Sherlock tried to think a way to get to know her.

"I'm Sherlock Holmes, the only consulting detective, because I invented the job. I have an older brother named Mycroft." He said as a starter and she smiled.

"I'm Y/n, I don't have a job right now but I will find one, hopefully. I actually don't have a sibling, just me and my parents." She said chuckling and Sherlock smiled. He heard the tea was ready and he asked her about what she likes.

Handing her a cuppa, she accepted it and Sherlock let her remove her coat so she can get comfortable. Y/n removed her coat, gloves and bonnet and placed them beside her.

They continued chatting, leaving unfinished experiments and paperworks in the kitchen and not noticing Mrs. Hudson got home because the road was already cleared out.

A year ago

"How did you do that?" Sherlock asked Y/n and she almost fell from her seat. "Did what?" "Getting into the security cameras of Baker Street." He said pointing at the screen.

"You won't tell?" She asked and Sherlock nodded. "Obviously I can hack into them, besides cameras are very easy to hack." She said rolling her eyes and Sherlock celebrated about learning what Y/n can do.

"This is amazing! You can help me in cases and everyone can know!" He exclaimed proudly but Y/n said otherwise.

"No one can know! You promised!" She exclaimed and slapping Sherlock's arm jokingly.

"Besides I can only be accessible within 20 meters away from you." She said showing the map to Sherlock, "Well then come with me every day but of course just stand by. Wait till I tell Lestrade!" He said and reassured Y/n that he was an inspector that she can trust.

'I know Lestrade alright.' She thought smirking on her screen while Sherlock tried to find his phone.

A month after that

"Hello Sherlock." Y/n heard a woman entering the lab and she stopped on her tracks when she saw her. "Hello Y/n." She said sadly.

It's been a month since Y/n was silently working with Sherlock. She met Molly in the process, well she was always around wherever Sherlock is.

Especially if he's in the lab.

Y/n's phone got a notification and she looked at the message.

-Lestrade

Someone was on the phone for you.

Y/n

Who was it?

-Lestrade

Private matters they said.

'Private matters they said'

-Mr. Holmes

The car is waiting at the corner.

'Not this again.' She thought reading the message. Either she goes now or let them wait and risk getting fetched by them.

-Y/n

I'll be leaving for a while. Please look out for Sherlock, Lestrade.

-Lestrade

I will.

"Sherlock I'll be going out for a while." She said getting her coat and wearing it. "Can you get me coffee?" "I can get you one." Molly intervened and both of them looked at her.

"The usual Y/n, if it's not a burden." Sherlock said looking again at the microscope.

"Oh umm, I think I'll be gone for an hour, so Molly might help you with that." She said looking at the messages.

-Mr. Holmes

The longer you take, the longer this talk will be.

"It's fine with me, what's your usual?" Molly asked Sherlock and both of them replied.

"Black 2 sugars." They said in unison and Y/n left immediately while trying to run through everything or everyone.

She saw the car and immediately got inside.

"Stop haunting me, Mycroft Holmes." She said keeping her phone away and looking outside the windows.

Today

"It's almost 4 years now since I moved and 2 years since I started working with him." Y/n said laughing at the page she had a note on.

'Before the December morning came, a chance and a person changed the game.'

She closed the book and walked back towards Baker Street. It was almost noon and she knows Sherlock and John is waiting for her to come back.

Entering the flat, she already heard footsteps coming down the stairs and saw Mycroft with John and Sherlock behind him.

"What did you do again Sherlock?" She asked trying not to look like she knows Mycroft.

"I can reassure you miss, he didn't do anything wrong. Good day brother, Dr. Watson." He said leaving.

"Lunch?" She asked the two and they nodded.

They went to a Café and started to eat lunch. Went back to Baker Street and John took a rest for a while. Leaving Y/n and Sherlock continuing to solve the crime.

"It doesn't make sense! He's just killing random people!" Sherlock exclaimed looking at the wall. John is still asleep on his chair, covered with papers.

"Maybe you just need to look at the minor factors they have. Maybe they all have something very important that the killer would want." Y/n said getting through the files about the case. Sherlock stared at the girl in front of him.

'How can you be so smart at the same time be bossy?' he thought returning his gaze at the wall.

They continued their work and John woke up an hour ago. Until it was night time and Mrs. Hudson brought them tea.

"Sherlock, why is there a big toe on your sink?" She asked rather disturbed. Y/n laughed at Sherlock's constant behavior of experimenting with things.

Sherlock's phone rang and it was Mycroft. He sighed and answered the phone.

"What is it Mycroft?" He said dropping the papers he was holding on the table.

"What?! An emergency? Where?" He exclaimed causing the three to look at him. "What's the matter, Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson asked walking nearer.

"We'll be right there." He said dropping the call and got his coat. "What the hell is going on?!" John exclaimed trying to get Sherlock's attention.

"A family is now on ransom and Mycroft thinks it's the killer." Sherlock said wrapping up his scarf and the two wore theirs.

"I don't get it? A family? How are they connecte-" "The father is an official in the government, a close person to the royal family." He said climbing down the stairs with John following.

Y/n got stuck on the doorway and processed what Sherlock just said. She got worried and immediately went down the stairs.

They got a cab and they reached a building. Police and a few government employees were there to plan out.

"Sherlock! In here." They saw Mycroft went inside a vehicle a few feet away the commotion. It was filled with monitors connected to the cameras inside.

"An empty building perfect for a murder isn't it?" Sherlock said rather excited and John nudged him not to be happy.

"Any news from the inside?" "No, the killer won't let anyone in. He's controlling the entrances, except for the cameras which is odd." One of the men said showing the doors.

They stayed there for almost 10 minutes without any movement from the killer. They found him sitting on an antique chair looking at his phone and wearing a ridiculous mask.

The television beside him lit up and the camera couldn't clear out what the television is flashing.

"This is the Y/l/n Family, if you still want to see them alive. You know who you are, give me what's so precious to your family." The killer said laughing under his mask.

"That is the live stream, we can see them here on camera 16, inside a room tied up. The same as the television is showing." The men said but they noticed something blinking at the middle of the chairs the family is sitting.

"And there's now a bomb planted. Call the bomb disposal team!" They tried to contact people from the outside to find a way inside faster.

Because there's a bomb on the middle of the room, and it wasn't making the job easy.

"I just need to talk to youuu~" The guy sang and laughed like a psychopath. He stood up and started dancing.

"Sherlock, anything?" John asked the man scanning around the monitors and starts to get frustrated. "Are you sure all of the exits are closed?!" He exclaimed and they nodded showing every camera angle of the exits.

Y/n opened up her laptop and plugged in a USB. Mycroft noticed and he looked at her telling no. But her eyes said it was the only way.

After transferring files from the USB, she took out her phone and connected it to the laptop. Before finishing up and shutting her laptop, she typed something on the notes.

'Might be the best time to say it then.'

She closed her laptop, stood up next to Mycroft and handed him her phone. He was confused on why she gave him her phone.

"He'll think I might call the police if I brought my phone with me." "Well you're already with the police." They whispered at each other. Y/n started to leave the vehicle and Sherlock noticed.

"Where are you going Y/n?" "Outside, I need to speak with them. I'll be back." She said hopping out of the vehicle and closing it.

Grabbing the chain that she got from the inside and locking it, she made sure they'll be safe. In case the killer notices her trap.

Sherlock's POV

Y/n left a few minutes ago and she still hasn't returned. The Y/l/n family is still inside and the killer kept repeating the phrase.

"I just want to talk to youuuu"

"Why can't anyone enter!" I said frustrated and ruffled my hair. Trying to think a way inside. "Vents?" "What's that, Sherlock?" "The vents! Is there any vents?!" The men showed me and there weren't any vents big enough for a human to fit in.

"Great." I said and they returned the monitors back to the cameras we were monitoring.

"Aha! I knew you'd come my dear!" We heard the man say and he pressed a button on his phone causing the doors to open.

Third POV

The doors opened on the main entrance, Sherlock and the others were glued to the screens.

Y/n entered with no hesitation and the doors closed once she was in. "Y/n?!" Sherlock exclaimed and went towards the door. It wouldn't budge and John started helping him.

"Did she locked this after she left?" John asked Sherlock and he nodded. They went back to the monitors and she was standing at a safe distance from the killer.

"Isn't this nice, Y/n? You and me seeing together again and talking." He said followed by a laughter that echoed through the whole hall.

"It's nicer if you didn't do any of those killings." She said standing there feeling the gaze of the camera towards them.

"I thought I would get your attention." He stood up immediately that surprised Y/n and made her back away. "And it did!" He said laughing like a maniac now.

"See this red button on my phone?" He asked and Y/n nodded. "Well, It's connected to the bomb. Just give me what I want and I can forget about pressing this." He said placing the phone on the table and handing out his hand.

Y/n looked at him seeing any tricks with this. Her eyes lingers on the screen and she saw her family, tied up inside the room and starting to panic.

The killer saw this and laughed, knowing this is going to be fun. "Need inspiration? I'll give you one." He said getting his phone and pressing a button that made her family look behind the camera.

"Say 'hi', they've missed you so much." He circled around her and she started to take the risk.

"No, Y/n don't do it!" Mycroft yelled at the monitors that made Sherlock look at his brother. "Getting attached?" John asked and Sherlock shook his head in disapproval.

"He knew Y/n all along. Don't you brother?" Sherlock asked and Mycroft nodded. "Before she lived in Baker Street." He said earning a laugh from Sherlock.

"So is there anything I should know about more?" He asked Mycroft and he nodded. "A lot." He stated not removing his eyes on the screen.

They continued watching the scene and Y/n is starting to take something out her pocket.

"If you have tricks on your sleeves, you know what will happen." He stated reclining and looking at her.

She raised up her chin and took out a phone. But it was a different phone, different from her day to day phone. She looked at it and handed it over to him.

"Why does she have another phone?" John asked the two Holmes, Mycroft looked at Dr. Watson and pointed at Y/n's laptop.

"How do you think she has access with every security and anything the government controls?" "That's a government phone controlling the security, data, archives and information about the whole United Kingdom." Sherlock intervened looking at his phone trying to call Lestrade to get them out of the van.

"Thank you for giving this Y/n." He said looking at the phone checking any tricks. He gave back the phone and showed her the lock screen. "Open it." Y/n swiped up the phone and unlocked it with the pattern.

Mycroft seeing the lock, he got confused. Sherlock noticed it and asked him. "Government phones don't unlock with patterns and pins. They rely on fingerprint and facial unlock." He said getting the phone Y/n gave him.

He turned it on and swiped up the lock screen. "Just like that?" Watson asked and Mycroft nodded. "She switched the phones." He said in disbelief and laughed. He grabbed the radio and started giving commands to get ready at the entrances.

"Thank you for unlocking it." He said standing up and circling her again. "You know your parents are very disappointed but relieved that they won't get blown up." He said laughing maniacally going through files.

"But I must say, they, especially Sherlock Holmes, still don't know the last thing you're hiding." He said pointing at the camera and opening his arms.

Y/n turned around and looked at the camera. "I don't know what he's talking about." "OH! That's a good one. Tell me more jokes!" He exclaimed laughing, Y/n is on the verge of punching him.

"You're a psycho." She said making the guy stop in front of her and smiled. "Well I thought you loved psychos, hence liking one of us." He said leaning towards Y/n and raising his eyebrows.

Y/n noticed the camera moving and pointing at the door and back at her. She sighed and bowed her head.

"I'm right, am I? You looove psychopaths!" He said and Y/n shook her head.

"Sherlock Holmes isn't a psychopath, he is a high functioning sociopath." She raised her head smirking at him, "And the only consulting detective with that title." She punched him through his mask that caused him so much pain and police started to enter the room.

They started to surround the guy and picked him up. They handcuffed him and gave back Y/n's phone.

"Before you take and lock him away-" she said getting near the guy, "I never knew you'd take it this far, Kevin." Taking of the mask, 3 men entered the room and going behind Y/n to back her up.

"B-but how did they entered the room! I have the controls over the entrances!" Kevin said and Y/n smirked. She waved her hand and the police took him away, yelling about how she did it.

The 3 men behind her looked at her proudly. She looked behind them and saw her family getting untied and the bomb was inside a case now.

Her family looked behind the camera and smiled. Mycroft handed her the phone back and took off the case to place it back on her phone. The television turned off and they heard people assisting her family.

"I know you two have a lot of questions, but I can summarize everything." Y/n said looking at them and sitting down on the chair.

"I made a deal with my family to live a normal life in exchange to continue hiding who I am.

Growing up behind doors was never easy because you can't make friends or learn social skills. Only few close family friends and the Royal Family knows who I am.

My brother and two sisters can live a normal life because they attended private schools which only rich people can attend. But I can't have that because I'm the first ever child of them and it would be a great plan to kidnap me right? In exchange for files.

But when I attended college, It was a private school and people don't care who you are anymore, and that's where I met Kevin.

He was nice and sweet just like how I thought all of the world's population is. But I was wrong.

Then that's when we broke up. A few years just living inside the house again not going out.

Then almost 4 years ago, me and my family agreed for me to leave and live somewhere and make sure that I'm safe.

And I am safe, especially having Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson as my neighbors and friends.

Having meetings with Mr. Blabbermouth, a.k.a Mycroft Holmes.

And having this phone with me that helps my family to know where I am."

She finished up but the three men are still confused. She understood why and she chuckled. Looking at the camera, the men followed her gaze and she stopped at the sign beside the chair.

"He was sitting near this sign and the phone's reflection is seen on the camera. I tried to make out his layout of the controls with the doors and placed all of it in folders."

She explained and opened the phone, "With every click of a folder, a door opens." She clicked one and they heard a door opening upstairs.

"I forgot to mention, I also studied with hackers and security when I was in college and living with my parents. That's how I learned it."

She said keeping the phone in her pocket. John smiled at her and looked at the two men. "And what was about the whole Sherlock Holmes thing?" He asked and Y/n sighed. "That was nothing." She said standing up and walking pass by them.

They exited the building and stood near Lestrade's car. He was assisting the family and talking with them.

"My name on your contacts is 'Mr. Blabbermouth'?" Mycroft asked and Y/n laughed.

"Don't worry, Mr. Sociopath and Mr. Oblivious aren't left out." She said walking away and nearing her family.

"Mom, Dad." She said hugging them almost crushing them. "I'll leave you lot to talk for a while." Lestrade said smiling at the scene before him.

"I knew you had a way, but I never thought you can pull that off!" Y/n's father exclaimed patted her back.

"She's a Y/l/n, she can do anything." She heard her brother and she ruffled his hair. "But of course, don't forget to introduce us your boyfriend." One of her sister said and she rolled her eyes.

"You can go back to them, we'll be okay." Her mother said but Y/n shook her head.

"I don't think I can leave you guys again." "As long as you can be safe and keep that safe, we'll be safe too." Her father said and her sibling nodded.

"Just remember to visit us on Christmas Day, okay?" Her younger sister said and she nodded. Tears brimming her eyes and she sniffles while trying not to burst out.

"I will always visit you lot." She said hugging them all, causing her to be surrounded by blankets that covered up her family.

Standing up, she waved good bye and walked back towards the car.

"Shall we leave?" Lestrade asked getting his keys. "Yes, let's go." Sherlock said opening the door for Y/n and she entered.

Their ride was quiet until they reached the apartment. "See you three tomorrow? Well if we have a new case for you three." Lestrade said and Sherlock nodded, getting inside first and leaving the door open.

"Yeah, see you Lestrade." Y/n said waving and entering the building.

John got to sleep immediately when he entered the flat, leaving Y/n and Sherlock.

"Well, erm, I guess I should be go-" she was cut off by Sherlock's mumbling. "I'm sorry, what was that?" "That's why I couldn't analyze you. You are unreadable and amazing at it." He said still staring at the fireplace.

"Yes, because of being able to hide from people, I'm never showy with anything." She said standing up and nearing the door.

"Good night Sherlock." She said turning towards her flat. "And yes, I like you. For almost 3 years now." She said never turning to look at him, and entered her flat.

She should've turned, because she never saw the smile Sherlock had hearing it from her. He leaned on his knees ruffling his hair. He continued smiling and sighed.

"Likewise, Y/n. Likewise." He said leaning back on his seat and stared at the ceiling.

[aggresivelyfriendly]

-Tis the Damn Season- Year Three

Jingle Bell Rock Me

Hi anybody reading! She’s a tiny bit short, but so am I, and I think that’s cute! Lol! Thanks to @dirtystyles for the beta!

"Excuse me, Emma." His voice, the one that's been echoing in the hollows of her body for a year and that she hasn't heard except for on the occasional call in the same amount of time, nearly buckles her knees. It steals her breath and speeds her heart. She imagines her cheeks and chest have gone that red color.

It's not the same over the phone.

Emma thought she had prepared herself, at least a little. No amount of busyness could make her forget that she was going to see him. Emma had done her best to distract herself with trips to the market for her mum and to the pub to see anyone in town. She knew seeing him in those places was less likely. She really wanted to see him, to look at him full on, but Gemma was already looking at her a little funny, with her fluttering lashes and subtle panting. She hopes it's subtle.  She's just about to get a hold of herself, she is sure of it, when his fingers brush over the keyhole in the back of her sweater. She'd worn it for this very purpose. Hoping they'd find themselves in the vicinity of the mistletoe or alone in the kitchen, or her bent over a chair in the snowy garden, wherever, and he could get his hands on her a little, despite the chill of the December weather.

It was everything she had hoped for, but that he went for it so immediately, another victory, is what makes her sure she's miscalculated her strategy.  His opening volley has her ready to fall down dumbly and suck him off, and she hasn't even looked at him.

Emma can feel the goosebumps pop up and she hears his suppressed chuckle at her excitement at his presence, his touch. And that does it. If she was looking at him, could look at him, she would be rolling her eyes, maybe giving him a two finger salute. She suppresses the eye roll. Luckily, Gemma is doing it for her.

"Harry, are you just going to be a pest all evening? Surely some friend you still trust is here, don't lurk when I've found one of mine." Gemma put her arm around Emma's shoulder and turned her. It's lucky, because now they both can look at him, and Emma can do so unobserved. Gem is still talking to him in her dressing down tone, she'd loved to use that one on an assortment of dickheads in sixth form, and Emma almost laughs realizing where she perfected it. On Harry, who is looking at his sister with amusement, her barbed tongue having no impact on him. His backbone is stiffer than Emma's, though other body parts have more in common. His eyes are as wandering as hers. He slid his gaze to her, he stays near the acceptable places, though her lips tingled when he stared at those momentarily. When his gaze dropped lower, she could tell where it was roving though he feinted and parried so fast Gemma may very well not notice.

Emma is not so disciplined, and her gape is not the dance of a fencer, but is the blunt of a broadsword. He looks better than last year, she thinks. He's thicker, she can already feel his wider presence between her thighs. His hair must be longer, but he's got it wrapped up and she can't wait to pull it free and clutch at it later.

She's only seen him twice, in a year. Seen him through a call on her tiny iPhone screen.

The first had been early, just after she got back to Amsterdam and he texted to get her address. Later that day, when the giant bouquet of flowers arrived she had to call him.

"Do you send all the girls you fuck enough flowers to give their roommates sneezing fits?" She'd immediately taken the piss. Defensewas the best offense.

"Only the ones I'm hoping to fuck again." He'd been quick to respond and she was glad she hadn't yet answered the FaceTime call he must have immediately initiated. Emma got her blush under control, maybe just enough color in her cheeks to make the video call slightly more flattering, though the white and yellow blooms gave her a good backdrop to work with.

"Well aren't you a charmer!"

"Right out of your knickers!" He flashed his eyebrows and she realized he appeared to be in a hotel room in his boxers. Oh, OH, that's why he's flirting so hard.

Does she wanna do this, on their first phone call, have video chat sex? Is that a thing? He's laying back on the bed and she's about to throw her penny and pound into the ring when she hears Lula come into the entryway. "Behave! My roommate just got home!"

"Oh, should I say hello?" He asks and his hand slides to his stomach, right over the butterfly tattoo she had kissed until it fluttered a week before.

"No, I don't want to hear the screams!" Emma stage whispered.

"Oh, she's a fan?" He asked like only one answer was possible.

"Yea, of me. And she's been trying to get me laid for months." Emma giggled. "She says I study too much, I object, she doesn't study enough."

"Well, we took care of that." He made a curious face then. "You're not gonna tell her?"

Did he expect her to blab to anybody that would listen that she'd banged a pop star? Maybe phone a tabloid? "No, I don't think I'll tell anyone. I like the idea of you as my secret."

"Our little secret!" His dimpled smirk really did her in.

"Our dirty little secret." She filled in the missing word, it fit snugly in his growing dimples. The possibilities too. She'd hugged her flat mate and excised herself to make good on the promise the phrase made.

And then they didn't do more than text for ages, he was on some massive tour and the time zones had her not seeing his texts for hours because they needed to sleep and she needed to lock herself in libraries and labs. The second time they spoke he'd been on a break, in California, and he'd called to see if she could fly out. She was at the airport, oddly, but she was going to Reykiyavik, not Riverside.

She'd told herself the whole flight that it was silly to feel sad. They knew with their schedules that seeing each other might only happen over the holidays. It was such a given they hadn't even discussed it.

So, as much as she wanted to, and was overwhelmed that he'd even thought to ask her, she'd just told him, "H, I can't. I'm on my way to my summer studies."

And he'd just said, "Ah well, I'll just have to keep dreaming about seeing you then."  Those words had colored her night visions for months.

He'd also left her a detailed message about what he wanted for Christmas three weeks ago.

His morning voice on her phone for three delicious, descriptive minutes was the closest she'd gotten to what he sounded like in person.

Her dreams were really bright then, almost technicolor, better than reality. At least reality with someone who wasn't Harry, as she found out in October.

It still hit differently, his voice, in this moment because she could see what he looked like too. In his jazzy button up and tight jeans. The guy she'd dated for a bit, Marko, had reminded her a little of Harry. But looking at the real thing now, in the flesh, not painted on hues, but living and breathing, she couldn't quite recall why.

Maybe just the hair. Though, Harry's was longer now, curlier, wilder.

It made her wild. When they made eye contact, she felt it in her toes. There was a pause in conversation, everyone waiting, Gemma waiting, for them to greet each other. Emma knew she should say hello, but she was busy trying to regulate her breathing. Panting wouldn't do, but that's what the collision of her daydreams and her wet dreams was inspiring.

Harry saved her, of course. "Hey Emma! It's so good to see you." The way he said good, the tone was almost like when he'd called her a "good girl" when she woken him up with a blow job last year. . Or, she thought it sounded like that.

God, what was he doing to her. She was nodding.

"It's really lovely to see you too, Styles, you've had a big year!" She'd started paying attention, when she had the time.

He blushed. Oh god!

"God, don't get him started, his head will only get bigger!" Gemma said affectionately, jostling Harry a little. "And you," she'd pointed at Emma then, "don't forget that time we had to help him hide coming home off his tits and he pissed himself. He's still my idiot little brother! No matter how famous!"

Or handsome, was Emma's addendum. She said it in her head. But they were all laughing and Gemma had given him more reasons for the attractive flush on his cheeks and deep press of his chagrined dimple. "We wouldn't want him to get a big head!" Emma giggled.

"I'm big enough everywhere else!" Harry tried to boast before Gemma started a story about how they'd had to special order a hat once, because of his massive cranium, and Emma could only sneak glances until he decided to loudly leave.

"I don't have to take this abuse!" He narrowed his green eyes at his sister. "Emma, if you want to have a conversation where my sister doesn't make it her job to insult me, I'll be in the kitchen." Near the mistletoe her mind added.

"She'll pass, I'm sure!" Gemma laughed.

Emma just smiled, as placidly as her galloping heart allowed. "I'm sure I'll need a refill at some point. Maybe then!" Her eyes promised she'd find him.

Which was how she'd wound up on the countertop of the back bathroomn with her palm between her teeth, her tights around her ankles and Harry's head between her thighs.

"Shh, shh!" He laughed up at her and god, he looked so in his element on his knees during his mother's party with a naughty glint in his eyes. Emma wrapped her hand around his chin and pulled him up to her.

"Come here!" She breathed against his mouth. The kiss tasted of her and who knew how much she liked that? Harry apparently, based on the knowing look he gave her when he pulled back to get his dick out of his tight jeans. "Convenient skirt this!"

"Inconvenient jeans those are. Are they some form of birth control?"

"Huh?" That stopped him as he was rolling the condom onto himself.

"There's evidence that wearing things too tight on your bollocks might reduce sperm count. That an extra measure to stop groupie babies?" She shouldn't ask about or imply she didn't want him sleeping with anyone else. They only saw each other once a year. She pretended even to herself that she didn't care who he slept with the rest of the year. If she wanted to know, she supposed she could ask, but she didn't. She also pretended not to compare her other rare dates to him.

There is no comparison.

"I'm gonna have to buy a whole new wardrobe!" He laid his nose against her collarbone and she pressed hers into his hair. She'd pulled off the head scarf as soon as they'd gotten into the bathroom and she was taking full advantage of the access. He was right, it was a little awkward, but Emma could see the potential and it was perfect for pulling.

He was perfect.

Her eyes had closed and she needed to get him back into gear, she should know better than to question a man's manhood when she was trying to use it. "Do you think you could afford it?" Her sarcasm was evident. She got her hand around the funny texture of his skinned cock. "Seems to be working just fine, still, and with possible positive side effects. Should we test it out?"

He lifted his head and his heavy breaths and blown out pupils suggested her stroke had brought him back to their present activity. He caught her mouth and her hips and brought her to the edge of the sill before sinking into her. He'd done his job well, the resistance was minimal and exactly what she remembered. He stopped for just a moment and she wondered if he enjoyed the fullness as much as she did. They exhaled together, made eye contact.

"I've dreamed about this for a year!" He started to move and stole the breath she would have said 'me too' with.

She knew she was making too much noise, she had every time she was with him. He was shushing her again and grinning proudly. "You have to be quiet." He laughed against her mouth.

"Make me?" Was what she said.

"Well, that would involve stopping, and I've no intention of that." So instead he caught her face and licked into her mouth while redoubling his stroke. He covered her mouth with his palm a moment later when her neck went soft and her head hit the mirror.

It was coming, the wave she'd been searching for that had receded too quickly when she'd insisted he kiss her after getting off moments ago. She bit down on his hand to muffle the groan growing in her lower belly.

"Ow!" He looked up from where he was jawing the tits he'd popped out of her bra. Emma squeezed down on him, hard, Iiterally. "Fuck!" He kept eye contact and sped up his thrusts, hitting up just as he had been when she bit him. Her eyes closed as she started to crest, popping open again when the door rattled.

Harry thought quickly and put his hip against it. His strong hold on her doubly useful. They both looked to the lock.

"You nearly done?" An unremarkable voice called.

Harry smirked at her. Covered her mouth and yelled through the door, "Yes, nearly!"

Emma didn't think she could come like that, but she was wrong. Her orgasm was all the stronger for the palm secured over her mouth  and the person through the door who might hear. And for Harry's cocky cheek while he pushed into her, until his face dissolved and he groaned. She should have put her hand over his mouth.

Instead her fingers went there and he sucked dutifully.

That set her mind running. Should she ask about meeting later? Tonight, or their traditional, she hoped, Boar's Headon Boxing Day get-together?

They'd already gotten into each other; last year they'd wound up together any free moment, but she didn't want to presume. A week full of stolen moments, some texts messages, a couple phone calls, and a back bathroom fuck did not entitle her to anything.

This wasn't enough for her, but she was too afraid to ask for more. Even what she'd had last time.

"God!" He breathed as he pulled himself free and her off the sink, fixing her skirt before washing his hands and dick, not in that order, in the basin, "How am I gonna wait until tomorrow night?" He turned a drowsy sated smile on her. "What time can you get away to the Boar's Head?"

"You still want to meet up?" She hoped she didn't sound as astounded to his ears as her own told her she did.

He's folding his beautiful dick into his jeans and he's about to do the little jump he does to position it when he just stops. He looks at her quizzically. "Why wouldn't I want to see you?"

She needs to pee and use the sink for the inelegant water in hand wash out, but she'd rather do that in front of him than reveal her insecurity. "It's just...we just..." She pointed between the two of them.

"Yeah, and we can do more," He motioned between them. Then his face lost the cheek and was replaced by a look of focused earnestness that made her heart beat harder than seeing him in person an hour ago. "And if I only get to see you once a year, because you're terribly ambitious and I'm terribly busy—"

"Yeah, you're just busy, not ambitious." She'd try to diffuse the intensity of whatever she's hoping he's about to say.

"So busy, I only get to see my dear Emma once a year, I want to sleep with you."

"You just did!" She reminds him.

"No, really sleep with you, not just sex." He pulls her in. Inside the hug, he kisses her. "Plus, we need time to talk. I want to hear all about this year's research and whatever power plant you geeked out over all summer."

"Yeah?" She's starry eyed and weak kneed, again, still.

"Yes, you muppet. I don't miss you all year just because you taste so good." He kissed her then. "Though you do taste better than anyone else."

She takes the compliment, and only thinks about it on a loop all of Christmas Day, and night. She completely forgets about it after she and Harry have tasted each other by noon on Boxing Day. Then he reveals their real first kiss, and Emma is too busy feeling their current kisses and trying to recall details of that Christmas delight while they sneak around and carouse anywhere they can.

He had to leave earlier than last year. And it's not until he's pulled off, from their private goodbye, before his pub send off where they flirt just enough to annoy Gemma, that she thinks about it.

She's not innocent, she saw other people 11 months out of the year, well three, but she couldn't help but wonder, who else was he tasting?

He implied that he had something to compare her to. Even if it was favorable, she found it bothered her. A lot.

She could ask him; instead she decides to just remember his taste and his interest, it'll have to carry her through until next yule.

It's not her business, it's too far down a road not taken anyway.

[adenei]

Finding My Way To You - Ch. 8

AO3 // FFN

Adjusting

“Mum, I really don’t think all of this is necessary..” Hermione said the following day. Her parents had both taken the day off to spend time with them, and Jean had whisked her daughter away for lunch and an afternoon of shopping. 

“What? Being able to spend time with my daughter? When’s the last time we went shopping together? Hermione, dear, you are desperately in need of some new clothes! Plus, I want to help you find something special for your date tonight,” Mrs. Granger smiled knowingly.

Hermione sighed. Her mother was right. The clothes she did have were ragged from being on the run for almost a year, and it was nice to be able to spend time with her again. This was the kind of thing she’d hoped to do with her mother before sixth year started, when she thought she and Ron may be on the verge of something then. Speaking of…

“Mum, what did Ron say to you last night to change your mind about things?” she asked again, hoping she’d crack on the fourth try.

They’d been out much longer than Hermione had expected, which made her nervous, but when they’d returned, Ron looked relieved and Mum had a smile on her face. Hermione looked at her dad for help in gathering an explanation, but he simply shrugged. Even Ron was tight lipped about the exchange last night. That annoyed her, and subsequently cut into their ‘getting to know you’ time she was hoping for.

What Ron did admit was what her mother was planning for tomorrow evening. “She called to make a reservation at some posh seafood restaurant for us tomorrow evening.”

“All four of us?” Hermione asked for clarification.

“No, just you and me. She wants us to go on a proper date. Said something about checking the cinemas, too, whatever that means. Would you be alright to join me for dinner tomorrow evening, say, around 6:30?” he said with a chuckle.

“I’d be delighted,” Hermione played along. “But I’m not sure I have anything to wear,” she frowned.

“Right, I forgot that bit. Your mum’s planning to be here around eleven tomorrow to take you to lunch and shopping.”

Hermione smiled at the recollection as she browsed the current boutique they were in. They already had several bags between them of new clothes for Hermione. Several new shirts and jumpers, a couple pairs of jeans, trousers and skirts, and even new undergarments, which Hermione had been resistant towards at first. She was secretly happy, though because when she was ready to take that step with Ron, she wanted something cute or sexy and not just plain old boring cotton. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of wanting to be ‘sexy’ for someone. 

She’d even caved and allowed her Mum to purchase a new swimsuit. It felt like ages since Hermione had worn one, not since their trip to France all those summers ago, and it took several choices (of both her own and others her mum tossed over the dressing room door) before Hermione had decided on a bright blue two piece with white polka dots. The top was modest enough with a twist front that had string ties in the back, and the bottom was somewhat high waisted, which made her feel more comfortable. Her mum had also picked up a couple beach towels and insisted Hermione buy flip flops, or thongs, as the Aussies called them. 

“The weather is supposed to be beautiful tomorrow. You and Ron absolutely need to experience a beach day, so you’ll be prepared!” 

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. “Mum, are you trying to plan the rest of our stay here?”

“Of course not! I just want you both to experience everything we’ve grown to love about this little corner of the world. Plus, you both deserve a bit of a holiday after everything you’ve been through.”

“Thanks, Mum,” Hermione said, as she felt an overwhelming need to hug her mother right then and there.

Their last stop found Hermione the perfect dress for her date tonight. It was teal, and flowy with wide straps and a keyhole opening. A satin band gathered at the waist to provide some shape on her body, and the flowy skirt came to her mid thigh. It was the perfect balance of elegant, yet beachy, and her mum had found a wedge, peep toe sandal to finish off the look.

“Thank you again for all of this, Mum. Even after everything I did…”

“Hermione, you’ll always be our daughter, and I’ll always love you. I only want the best for you, and even though Ron’s made mistakes in my eyes, he’s certainly proved to me that he’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy, and I respect that.”

“Sometimes I think I don’t deserve him.”

“It’s all about balance, my dear. Tell me, did you ever apologize to him about the canary incident?”

Hermione felt as though ice had been poured down her back at her mother’s words. She knew that she and Ron had gotten past the whole Lavender debacle, but thinking back on it, she realized that there never was an explicit apology for that.

“I- erm-” she stuttered.

“You really should. I raised you better than that.”

“You’re right. And I suppose I probably should apologize for attacking him when he came back as well..” she hesitantly admitted.

“Excuse me?” Her mother stopped on the sidewalk and looked at her. “I did not raise you to react with violence, young lady.”

“I know, I know! I just- I let my emotions get the best of me. I promise I’ll do better about keeping them in check.”

“I’m not the one you should be making that promise to, but I appreciate the intent.”

“You’re right.”

“Dare I ask what you did to that poor boy when he came back?”

“Umm, I used him as a punching bag, as Dad would say,” Hermione admitted.

“Oh, Hermione..I know you inherited my anger, but please don’t take it out on him like that.”

“I won’t. Not anymore.”

She knew it was wrong, and even though it wasn’t something she talked about often, she was ashamed of her actions. Pride and embarrassment had forced her to ignore bringing it up, but if they were going to start off their relationship properly, it needed to be discussed.

Hermione noticed her mum checking her watch. “We’ve got just enough time to get you cleaned up and ready for your date. I had your father bring a few items over to your flat when he went to pick up Ron.”

“Items? What do you mean?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Hair product and makeup, of course!”

“But-”

“No buts! We have an hour to get you ready before Ron’s due to pick you up.”

“He’s not already there?” Hermione was having trouble keeping up with her mum, both in walking speed and conversation.

“Heavens, no! It’s a proper date, remember? Now, let’s go!”

~o~

Ron was standing in the guest bedroom of the Granger’s home. He was looking in the wall mirror at his own reflection. His afternoon had been spent out with Hugo. He’d gotten a haircut at a local barber, found swim trunks for their ‘beach day’ tomorrow as Jean kept calling it, and an outfit for his date tonight. He was wearing a nice pair of trousers with camel colored dress shoes. His shirt was light blue with faint, thin pinstripe lines to give the illusion of texture. 

For the first time since Bill and Fleur’s wedding, he was proud of the way he looked. Mr. Granger had a knack for muggle style, and even though he was older, Ron trusted his judgement. He reminded himself of one of those business lads that flooded the sidewalks on the morning and evening commutes. He felt bad, and had tried to pay for the clothes himself, but Hugo had insisted. Mr. Granger had offered to purchase more for Ron when he caught him eyeing a new pair of trainers, and jeans that might actually fit his long legs, but Ron politely refused. 

“Ready to go?” Hugo called from the bottom of the stairs, drawing Ron out of his thoughts. 

He couldn’t wait to see Hermione. It’d been a long afternoon without her. Especially because he’d grown accustomed to being with her day in and day out. They made the short drive over to the flat, where Jean was waiting by the door. She held the door open for Ron as she wished them well for the night and reminded him of how to get to the restaurant, which was about five blocks away.

He watched them go and then bounded up the stairs. He was about to just walk into their shared flat, but paused and remembered that this was a date, so he knocked on the door. Ron barely had to wait for Hermione to open it.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but the sight of her in front of him made his jaw drop and he was pretty sure his heart stopped briefly. She was gorgeous. Her mum had no doubt helped her tame her wild curls, and it looked like she was wearing just enough makeup to accentuate her features. Not like the grams of it Lavender would plaster on her face every day. Her chocolate brown eyes were brought out by a light layer of deep purple, which were staring at him in much the same way he was looking at her, with adoration. And Merlin, that dress. She wasn’t one to wear dresses casually. Not that this was casual or anything, but he’d only really ever seen her in her school uniform or formal wear. He needed to say something to snap himself out of it before he lost his senses completely.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

“And you cut your hair,” she responded. “It suits you. You look really nice in muggle clothes.” Hermione smiled shyly at him. 

Ron smiled back at him as he rubbed his neck awkwardly. Why did this feel so weird? This was Hermione, his best friend. “Should we, er, get going? We’ve got a bit of a walk.”

Hermione nodded as she grabbed her purse and locked up. Ron held out his hand and she took it as they made their way down the sidewalk towards the restaurant. They were quiet for a while, until Hermione finally said, “Is it just me, or does this feel…”

“Weird?” Ron finished.

“Yes!” Hermione said through an exhale.

“Yeah...what’s wrong with us? We haven’t changed or anything,” Ron joked.

“I know,” Hermione said. He noticed her blush in the soft glow of the streetlight.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know, it’s just that- nevermind, it’s rubbish,” Hermione talked herself out of saying what she was thinking.

“No, tell me. Please?” Ron urged gently.

Hermione took a deep breath. “I guess I’m just worried I’m going to mess this up. I don’t want to do or say anything wrong,” she admitted.

“Me too,” Ron agreed. They walked another block or so, double checking street signs so they didn’t miss a turn.

“Do you think it’s like this for all couples who were friends first?” Hermione asked him.

“Er, yeah, could be. Never really thought about it, though.” Ron admitted.

“So, then, maybe we should just act like nothing’s really different. Let’s not put extra pressure on anything,” Hermione suggested.

Ron chuckled. “That works for me. I think this is it.” He pointed to a sign just up ahead.

They checked in at the hostess stand and were seated at a table on the edge of the main dining room. It felt more private than some of the other tables in the center of the room, and gave them a spectacular view of the ocean lit up by the moonlight.

As Ron began to look at the menu, he noticed the prices. It was expensive. They ordered their drinks from the server, and then they were alone again to look over the menu. 

“Er, Hermione,” Ron said, getting her attention. She peeked at him from over her menu. “I don’t know if I have enough to, er…”

He saw her eyebrows raise in understanding. “Don’t worry, Mum gave me her credit card. It’s taken care of.”

“But your parents have already done so much for us,” Ron protested. “And it’s our first, er second, date. I should pay..” That’s what a true gentleman did, wasn’t it?

“Please, it’s okay. They want to spoil us,” Hermione told him.

He sighed and gave in. It was either that or insist they leave, which could cause a scene and he didn’t want that either. “So then, what would you suggest for a meal?” he asked her, looking at the varieties of shellfish that he’d never had.

He ended up settling on a pasta dish that included a variety of seafood. Scallops, shrimp, and clams in a light wine and butter cream sauce. Hermione had chosen a salmon dish over risotto, and they’d split an appetizer of crab stuffed mushrooms. The meal was delicious, despite Hermione having to help guide him through eating so he wouldn’t accidentally consume any shells. 

They were browsing over the dessert menu as Hermione said, “Seafood always tastes better when it’s fresh, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure it does, not that I have much to compare it to. We’ll have to find a place when we’re back in England so I can see if there’s a difference.” 

His heart skipped a beat as he watched her face light up at his suggestion. “I’d like that.”

Their desserts came shortly after as they talked about what they wanted and needed to do when they got back to England. Ron had opted for a chocolate mousse cake, while Hermione chose creme brulee. She began picking at it about halfway through.

“Everything alright?” he asked her.

“Yes, of course! I’m just getting full, that’s all.” He could tell when she was lying because she didn’t make eye contact.

“Hermione…”

“I’m sorry about attacking you with the canaries sixth year,” she said through a grimace. “It was, um, brought to my attention that I never actually apologized about it.”

“That’s what was bothering you? It’s ancient history, Hermione, it’s fine.”

“See, you always say that, but it’s not. I can’t just physically hurt you when I’m angry at you. Like when I punched you after you came back to the hunt..”

“It’s...alright. I was a prat, too,” Ron tried to make her feel better.

“Yes, but you’ve never physically hurt me. I promise I won’t do that ever again. I’ll keep my emotions in check.” She met his eyes this time, indicating her sincerity.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Ron smiled. “Now, can we discuss something a bit more light hearted?” He suggested.

Hermione smiled gratefully as she took another bite of her dessert. “Did you want to go to the cinemas?” She checked her watch. “If we hurry, the one Mum suggested starts in twenty minutes just down the street.”

“I don’t know. As much as I’d like to experience it, I think I’d rather take a walk on the beach if you wanted to.”

“I like that idea so much better,” Hermione smiled. “Mum will forgive me for not following her plan completely, I’m sure. Besides, I’m sure some movie will be playing on the telly when we get back.”

“Brilliant!”

After they paid for their meal, they exited the restaurant and crossed the street to one of the many public entrances to the beach. They chose to walk along the water where the sand was a bit harder, and headed in the direction of their temporary flat. Hand in hand, they meandered along.

“The waves are so much calmer here than at Shell Cottage,” Ron remarked.

“That’s because the weather is much nicer. Every body of water can be rough and choppy or smooth with gentle waves,” Hermione explained.

He knew that, of course, but sometimes he loved to listen to her explain things. It had become a sort of comfort to him years ago. He just pretended it annoyed him to get under her skin. “Do you know how many times I hoped that we could experience something like this, but was convinced we’d be dead by the end?” he asked softly.

“I know. We nearly were...several times,” Hermione said.

“How’d we make it out? How’d we get so lucky. We shouldn't have..” Ron had to catch himself before he went into a spiral as he was reminded of who they’d lost. Fred, in particular.

“Don’t think like that,” Hermione said gently as she squeezed his hand. “We are still here, and you know he would want us to make the most of that.”

She somehow always knew what to say when it counted the most. Ron felt a rush of emotion flood over him. He loved her so much. His feet stopped right there, and he pulled Hermione back when she kept walking and was caught by her fully extended arm, their fingers still intertwined together. “You’re right. And I’m the luckiest bloke alive to have this chance with you.”

The setting was perfect. Sand beneath their feet, the moon and stars shining down on them, creating a soft glow of light, and the gentle crashing of waves close by. He pulled her close to him, bending down to kiss her. Ron felt her arms snake around his waist, while his own split duties. One hand cupped her face while the other snaked in her hair. 

He deepened the kiss and allowed himself to forget they were on the beach as he became lost in her. All he could feel was her, as he hesitantly grazed her bottom lip with his tongue. She opened her mouth further, granting him entry, as his tongue gently moved in and explored her mouth. She eagerly met his tongue with her own as Ron’s hands began to move down her body. 

He wanted more. Not that he wanted to rush things, but he was so overcome with want that it was hard to think straight. It took a car horn blaring from the streets to draw them back into reality. They reluctantly broke apart as he sought her eyes with his own.

“I think we should get back to the flat,” Hermione said breathily.

Ron simply nodded, not trusting his voice. They’d have plenty of time on the beach tomorrow.

[coldbrewandfangirling]

Betrayal – A Bucky Barnes Fanfic Chapter 15

AU / BuckyxOC

Summary:

Ava is an aspiring journalist, working on her first big story. Her life gets confusing when she meets James Buchanan Barnes, a charming, good-looking man, that she can hardly stay away from. She finds herself falling for him, hard, all while being haunted from ghosts of her past. But she can't shake the feeling that he is hiding something from her.

chapter 15, in which Ava and James get intimate with each other.

TW: this chapter contains detailed smut and choking!!

On Wattpad || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist || Playlist

word count: 2098

Chapter 15

this chapter involves smut and a sex scene described in detail, don't read if these topics are sensitive to you/if you’re a minor

Together they got into the old, small lift in Ava's building complex. She pressed the 5 – the lift ride would not take long. The mood was tense. Ava stood close to James, their arms almost touching and the air between them seemed strangely charged, expectant. Ava didn't dare lift her eyes, but she could feel James looking down on her – he was almost two heads taller than her. Ava tried to steady her breathing, which seemed far too loud in the silence. A ping interrupted her thoughts and they stepped out of the lift. Ava had to concentrate on getting the key into the keyhole properly and let James enter her flat first.

She followed him into the small hallway of her flat. He stopped in the middle and turned to her just as she was closing the door. He was now standing right in front of her and she had to lift her gaze to look into his blue eyes. He still seemed to be thinking about something, his eyebrows were pulled together tensely, his gaze hard. Ava couldn't get her thoughts straight and just continued to stare at him. Her eyes drifted down to his lips before she looked back into his eyes. Then James grabbed her head in his big hands and pressed his lips to hers. He pulled his lips a few inches away again, Ava letting a soft moan escape her lips in surprise. His lips found hers again, this time he was less restrained. He opened his lips a bit and Ava did the same. His tongue found hers and at the same moment he released his hands from her face.

With one hand he gripped her waist firmly and pushed her against the wall. The other wrapped around her neck, squeezing gently, holding Ava in place. Again Ava let a moan slip out, louder this time. It only seemed to turn James on more. Ava felt him pressing his hips against her body, she could feel his erection. She longed to touch him, to feel his warmth not only on her face but on her hands. She wanted to touch his neck, his torso and finally stroke through his messy hair. But her hands were wrapped tightly around his biceps, frozen with arousal.

"My hand around your neck is the most beautiful accessory you can wear," he breathed softly in her ear. She got goosebumps, closed her eyes and would have preferred to come just at those words. She was already completely out of breath, but she also felt James' heavy breath on her neck, which he attacked next. He kissed her neck, sucking on it and gently biting into her soft skin as his hand continued to rest on her neck. Her moans grew louder. Ava felt her underwear getting wetter and wetter.

She wanted more, just all of him. She put her arms around him and ran her hands through his hair. It was just as soft as she had imagined. James looked at her hauntingly for a moment. Ava was sure he could see how much control he now had over her. She was fully in his hands. He gently caressed her cheek and then slowly slid his hand along her body. He continued to look at her as he did so. Ava's mouth was open a little, she had to strain not to make any more sounds. Every place he touched with his hand tingled and glowed. His hand reached the end of her short dress and touched her thigh. Slowly he ran his hand along her thigh between her legs. Ava's eyes widened and a soft moan escaped her as he suddenly slipped a finger inside her and slowly pulled it back out.

"So wet, and only for me, princess." James continued to stare at her with his steady gaze, which only made her tense her thighs further.

James inserted a second finger inside her, finding a rhythm to satisfy her. Ava closed her eyes, her breathing quickened and her hands gripped his hair even tighter, tugging lightly.

"James-," Ava said weakly between her desperate attempts to gasp for air.

James' thumb found her clit and massaged it gently as both his fingers continued to slide in and out. He leaned down to her ear and whispered playfully, "Yes, doll?"

Ava threw her head back, she pulled James' hair and for a moment it felt like she was floating. James kept up the rhythm with his fingers and brought her through her orgasm, which felt like one big ecstasy.

She barely had time to catch her breath before James grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder. He carried her over to their bed and gently dropped her onto it. They looked at each other for a moment. The air was charged, almost electric and in James' eyes Ava saw lust and desire. Desire for me, she thought in surprise and couldn't believe it. The tension was unbearable and they literally tore off their clothes. James got rid of his shirt while Ava stripped off her dress. She searched James' blue eyes again and saw him standing in front of her completely exposed. She froze for a moment. He looked even better naked than with clothes on, but she didn't miss the scars on his torso either. His well-toned body made her bite her lip. Her gaze wandered further down and lingered on his penis. It was big. Too big, she thought to herself. She wasn't sure how it would fit inside her. James seemed to have noticed her glance.

"Don't worry, doll," he took a step towards her and gave her a kiss, "I'll be careful." Ava nodded once and kept her gaze fixed on his eyes. He stroked his hands gently over her shoulders and let his hands slide down her back. With a practised movement – how many bras had he unclasped? – he unclasped her bra and let it fall to the floor. Ava stood in front of him in only her panties and she was glad she had put on her good underwear. He stared at her breasts and she was instantly insecure about her small boobs and his hard to read expression.

"God, you're so beautiful," he licked his lips. "Lie down," he ordered her in a stern tone and Ava obeyed. Her insecurity faded with his commanding tone – she was all his.

He stripped off her panties and spread her legs. There was now no sign of the initial hesitation. Ava was sure that he wanted to enter her as badly as she wanted to feel him inside her.

His fingers found her most sensitive spot again. He massaged it gently and Ava clawed at her bed sheets with arousal. His fingers slowly slid down. Ava felt fluid forming all over again – she was more than ready to feel him inside her, she could barely stand the distance from him.

"James, please," Ava brought out strained as he let his fingers penetrate her rhythmically. With a jerk, he removed his fingers from her and she felt disappointingly empty. She was about to protest when James took a condom from his jeans and slipped it over his penis. He didn't seem to be able to wait any longer either and didn't hesitate.

"Fuck, you're so tight," James moaned as he inched his shaft forward. It hurt, but Ava wanted to feel him even further inside her. James kissed her again, entering her further. She had never felt so filled before. It was like he fit perfectly inside of her, like he was made for her. He pulled his penis out carefully before entering her again. He didn't keep up the slow pace for long and Ava was glad of it. She felt a knot forming in her guts again. The feeling of ecstasy was within her grasp, she was so close to stepping over the edge. She felt James' breath quicken and become more urgent too.

"Will you come for me, doll?" James asked in a breathless voice.

"Yes," Ava answered softly and moaned again.

Then James grabbed her neck and squeezed – hard enough to push Ava over the edge and make her float, but not too hard so that she greeted her orgasm with a small cry. James drove her through release again with his hip movements and she felt him pour into the condom shortly after.

Breathing heavily, James dropped onto the mattress next to Ava and pulled her into his arm. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe in a man's arms. But she couldn't help thinking how long this feeling of security would last.

Ava's breathing slowly calmed down again. James was still holding her tightly. Then he gave her a kiss on the forehead and stood up. Ava wanted to protest at first, she never wanted to be released from his tight grip again, but she felt too exhausted.

She heard him making his way to the kitchen and wondered what the hell could be so important in the kitchen right now for him to just leave her naked in bed without having said a word. Then he came back to bed with a glass of water.

"Drink," he ordered and Ava obeyed. Now that his arms were no longer keeping her warm, goosebumps rose on her skin. James seemed to have noticed, he took the glass from her and grabbed her with his strong arms again. Ava enjoyed the moment. She had never felt so safe as she did at that moment.

"Was that okay for you?" James asked in a low voice. Ava could hear concern in his quiet tone and she had to smile. She had never been asked that before by a guy she had slept with.

"Yes," she hesitated, "And for you?" Did she really want to hear the answer to that? Her uncertainty pushed through the numbing feeling she still had after her orgasm. Never before had a man brought her to her climax.

"Yes. More than okay." Ava exhaled in relief. She hadn't even realised she'd been holding her breath.

"Tell me about Steve and you," Ava said softly after a few minutes, turning onto her stomach so she could look him in the eyes. He stroked her arm with one hand and used the other as a headrest as he lay on his back.

"I was hanging out with the wrong crowd after my parents died and Steve got me out of it. He got me back on the right track."

"What kind of people?" Ava bit her lip. Was this too personal?

"We did small burglaries together. Stupid juvenile pranks until the cops caught us," Ava continued to look at him, but his gaze was fixed on the ceiling, "One cop took pity on me and gave me a second chance." His voice sounded soft. "But you don't have to worry about my past. That's all long behind me." Then he turned his gaze back to Ava and had the firm expression on his face.

Thoughtfully, Ava stroked his muscles, his chest, his stomach. She ran along the scars that adorned his torso. Her breath caught in her throat. Were they bullet wounds? She ran her finger over the indentations again. These are stab wounds!, she realised in horror.

"Where did you get those?" Ava bit her lip again. Why did she have to satisfy her curiosity right now? Couldn't she just enjoy the moment? James was lying naked in her bed and she couldn't think of anything better to do than question him with personal questions. She looked strained at his scars.

He did not answer. Had she crossed a line? Had she gone too far? She cursed herself and looked up at him. He had closed his eyes, his breathing was shallow. He had simply fallen asleep! Ava wasn't sure if she should be offended that he had fallen asleep while she had been asking him questions, or if she should listen to the warm feeling in her chest that told her he was comfortable enough with her to sleep in her bed. For the second time at that.

She could still worry about his past tomorrow. She turned on her side and snuggled up to him. Carefully, she put her arm on his warm chest and fell asleep with a smile.

[sleevesareforlosers]

i love the sound of my own voice and its tdov so im gonna put a bunch of pictures from my top surgery healing process under the cut and talk abt them

(warnings for blood, bruising, medical/surgery talk, and like. pictures of me shirtless)

[Image ID. A white person photographed from the side. They are lying on their back, with a light blue button shirt down that is open, revealing open bandages and compression wraps. There is a bandage taped down to their chest over their nipple and a clear drain tube coming out of a small incision over their ribs. End ID.]

this is from abt 24 hours after my surgery. i woke up and my chest was super swollen and hot and there was nothing coming out of my right side drain (bad sign) so we went to two different emergency rooms because the first one didn’t know what to do. turns out i had developed a hematoma (basically a pocket of blood under the skin that can harden/clot) that wasn’t bad enough to need to be operated on but increased my chances for infection and scar tissue buildup

[Image ID. The same person on his back photographed from above. His shirt is open, showing bandages taped down over his nipples and drain tubes, which are coming from the sides of his ribcages. Large abdominal pads are placed under the drain tubes, which are filled with blood. His whole chest is bruised yellow, although more intense around his right nipple and the centre of his sternum. End ID.]

this is five days postop. nothing special except i was having MAD issues with the painkillers i was on making me nauseous so i couldn’t eat for the first three days after surgery which SUCKED. thats not related to the image obv but this is my post and I get to decide what i talk about

[Image ID. A mirror selfie cropped to show only the persons torso. The taped-down bandages over the nipples have been removed, as well as the drain tube on the left side. Sterile strips are placed in a V shape along the bottoms of both nipples. There is still a drain tube and associated bandages coming from the right side. The bruising is much fainter, though still dark along the underside of the right side of the chest. End ID.]

eight days postop! I got the bandages removed and one of the drains but we left the one on the right because of the hematoma which at this point my surgeon decided to just wait for it to resolve itself (liquefy and drain out or be absorbed). should definitely be noted that i wasn’t allowed to shower until three days after my last drain came out and i was Disgusting at this point but i WAS finally allowed to sleep on my side (left side, the one w/o the drain) which i hadn’t been able to do until then.

[Image ID. A close photo of the right side of the person’s chest. The V shapes sterile strips are still in place, as is the drain tube and bandage. There is substantial yellow bruising underneath the nipple that is dark red in places, as well as a smaller brownish bruise right underneath the armpit. End ID.]

eleven days postop! this picture was taken because the bruising got way worse over the course of a few hours and started swelling again so i went back to the ER. again, the hematoma was not bad enough to operate on but i was prescribed antibiotics bc the surgeon on call was worried about infection. as best as i can figure that little bruise near my armpit was where the end of the drain was and it got bruised because of my arm pressing against it while i slept on my side

[Image ID. Another photo of the person’s chest. Bandaging is the same as the previous photo, though some of the bruising has gone down on the right side and a new dark bruise appeared over the center of his sternum. End ID.]

two weeks postop! Things were tbh very normal at this point apart from the bruising and the drain and the limited mobility. We have no idea what caused the bruise in the center of my chest lmao. I had also figured out how to (very carefully) shower at this point which tbh did WONDERS for my mood and my bearability-to-be-around

[Image ID. The same view of the chest as the last photo, the only difference is that the right side bruising is more faded and the center bruise is much darker. End ID.]

17 days postop! I remember that at this point i was getting So annoyed with the drain and also the hematoma would just randomly start hurting which uh. sucked lmao

[Image ID. A closeup photo of the side of the person’s ribcage. A very small and fresh scar is visible, which somewhat resembles a sideways smiley face with a curved line and two small dots. End ID.]

this is three weeks postop! This is where my drain went in, and the two dots are where the stitch held the tube in place. Dissolving stitches apparently do not dissolve like they’re supposed to for me and my mom FREAKED out when i made her pull the rest of the stitch out bc it was longer than she expected. Because I got keyhole surgery and not double incision, these little scars are my only visible ones (and theyre so pleasantly visible when i wear big armhole tank tops)

After this i stopped taking too many photos because it was mostly just waiting for the drain to come out (which took about four weeks until my surgeon finally took it out and only then bc she claimed it ‘looked like it was a part of me’)

[Image ID. A mirror selfie of the same person, completely shirtless and fully healed. Their chest is flat, with only one small scar visible on the left side of their ribcage. End ID.]

This is from a few weeks ago! im basically 100 percent back to normal, but even a month and a half ago reaching for stuff too far away with my right arm hurt and sometimes if i pull at the skin weirdly i need to take a Moment. I also still have a bit of scar tissue left on my right side and sometimes the skin gets a bit darker, but im also only fourish months postop so i know itll go down more with time and massage and stuff.

anyway. 10/10 would recommend