#this is what i do at 3:16 in the morning instead of sleeping

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

The Diary of Tom Riddle- Diary! Tom Riddle x Reader - P3

pairing: Tom riddle x Fem reader

warnings: Horcruxes, Manipulation, Tom being Tom, side effects of being possessed.

summary: 16-year-old (y/n) finds a mysterious black book on the floor of after it slips out of Ginny Weasleys caldron, curious, she picks it up and keeps it-which leads to one thing after another and discovers the book is far more than it seems.

-Part 1- -Part 2-

=

Thankfully, as she woke up, (y/n) hadn't moved from her bed throughout the night. She sighed and slowly sat up, rubbing her face, drawing back the curtains of her bed, seeing her roommates all up and getting dressed for the day. It was a Sunday, so it was Hogsmeade day for years 3 and up.

Hogsmeade sounded fun.

(y/n) looked at the diary and grabbed it, popping open her ink well and grabbing her quill, flipping open a book to the now blank page she’d been writing in the night before.

“Morning Tom.”

Tom took a moment to respond, her ink disappearing into the page as his elegant scrawl appeared in its place.

‘Good morning (y/n), did you sleep well?’

“yes I did, thankfully. Woke up where I should be too, in my bed.”

‘Very good. Are you feeling better?’

“yeah, much better, thank you. Im going to go to Hogsmeade today, would you like to come with?”

‘Well, I wouldn’t be able to do much, would I?’

(y/n) hummed in thought, Tom had a point, as he could only see what she wrote/illustrated in the book.

“good point, but I could maybe bring you to the bookstore there and get some ink you’d like?”

‘I don’t eat the ink (y/n)’

“not what I meant but that’s a very funny visual thank you.”

(y/n) giggled to herself, imagining the book eating the ink instead of just absorbing it to write back to her.

“I meant like, would you like some fancy ink? I saved up some money from my allowance and can get some good ink from the store if you would prefer it?”

‘How…generous of you, (y/n)’

“thank you :)”

Tom took a very long moment to respond, as if he was thinking long and hard about her offer. Finally, after a few minutes, he wrote back-though he did so while (y/n) was getting dressed for her outing to Hogsmeade, putting on an oversized sweater for maximum comfort.

‘I suppose it couldn’t hurt if you brought the diary along, I certainly don’t mind good inks to write with, I myself was never able to afford more than the most basic brands.’

(y/n) tilted her head a bit, a smile growing on her face. Tom was opening up to her a bit! Okay-play it cool-don’t overreact.

“aww really?”

‘I don’t need your pity (y/n)’

Oops.

“not pity! Im sorry! Just…idk”

‘What in the merlin does ‘idk’ mean?’

“Oh-I don’t know-its an abbreviation.”

‘Why don’t you just write ‘I don’t know’, it’s not hard?’

“idk, just easier.”

She felt like she could hear him sigh, which made her giggle and she finished getting dressed before writing to him again.

“okay okay, im going to go eat, ill be back to grab you before everyone heads out to Hogsmeade.”

Tom didn’t respond so (y/n) closed the diary and put it back on her bedside table, capping her ink well and cleaning her quill before leaving her room, heading out to the great hall for breakfast.

-

Hogsmeade, thankfully, took the rest of the events from the night before off (y/n)’s mind as she went from store to store, starting at the book store and writing down ink brands and types to Tom, who eventually picked out a non-expensive India ink, but it was definitely more costly than the usual ink she got.

She closed the diary and put it back in her bag, taking the new ink to the front and buying it, the shopkeep wrapping it in paper and then giving it to her in a paper bag.

She counted how much money she had left as she walked down the main path of the village, nodding to herself as she pocketed the coins. She had enough to do someday after Halloween candy shopping.

She hopped straight into Honeydukes, where loads of other students were buying their own discounted candy, and quickly got some candies that were under the discount.

Including a bag of candy corn, and it was the type made in shop-which was even better.

“What is it with you and candy corn (n/n)?” one of her friends that had accompanied her to Hogsmeade asked teasingly, attempting to steal one of the candies (y/n) had bought.

“It’s good!” (y/n) defended the candy, holding the box to her chest. She knew candy corn wasn’t a worldly liked candy-but it was hers and her dad's favorite, so it not only tasted good to her, but it also was nostalgic.

(y/n)’s friend snickered, taking a caramel apple lollipop from (y/n)’s bag full of discounted Halloween candy. (y/n) rolled her eyes, the two catching up with the rest of their friends, hanging out at the three broomsticks for a while before heading back to the castle.

Upon getting back to her dorm room, (y/n) poured out the candy onto her bed and spread it out, sorting it and eating a few pieces here and there as she separated the chocolates from the hard candies, and the lollipops from the taffy.

She took out the diary and the new well of ink, opening the wax around it and setting it aside, testing the ink on her actual notebook before writing to Tom.

“back from Hogsmeade! Using the new ink as well :)”

‘I can tell, it’s far smoother than the ink you were using before.’

“I’m glad you like it! I also got a lot of candy from honeydukes, they were having a day after Halloween sale, I got nearly 5 pounds of candy for one galleon.”

‘Sweet tooth?’

“big one.”

(y/n) smiled brightly as she continued her conversation with Tom, which turned to her asking Tom what his favorite candy was…is.

‘I haven't tried much candy if I must be honest, though I do like treacle tarts.’

“yum, those are pretty good”

“great now Im craving treacle tart thanks Tom.”

‘You’re welcome, (y/n)’

­-

(y/n) happily painted on some Slytherin green and silver face paint onto her cheeks, today was the first quidditch game of the year, and the Slytherin team had gotten a new seeker-the spoiled as fuck Draco Malfoy, who everyone knew bribed his way in but he still wasn’t a terrible flyer-and brand new brooms.

The whole Slytherin house was excited, ready to win the first match of the season against Gryffindor, since they hadn’t won a game against Gryffindor since Harry Potter joined the team the year before.

“You almost ready (y/n)?!” her friend called from the bathroom as she herself finished her makeup.

“Yeah!” (y/n) said, hopping to her feet after pulling away from her desk mirror. “I’m all done!” she wrapped a scarf around her neck and hooked her arm with her friends and they all went down to the quidditch pitch together, the roar of excitement already humming through the stands.

The game started quickly after that and it was exciting! The Slytherins were walloping the Gryffindors easily-quickly overtaking them 90-30. (y/n) whistled and cheered for her team, throwing her fists into the air with each score. “Woah what the fuck?!” she heard her friend suddenly exclaim and (y/n) turned to see where she was looking, her brows furrowing as a bludger began to deliberately chase Harry Potter.

“Is that a rouge bludger??” (y/n) said, her lip curling in confusion. “What the hell they’re like-impossible to tamper??” (y/n) and her friend stopped paying attention to the game as a whole, watching in near horror as Harry was chased around by a bludger.

The Weasley twins tried to bat it away from him but it kept coming back.

“that’s not good-we should tell a teacher-“ (y/n) stuttered, turning to head off the stands, maybe catch Madam Hooch’s attention and stop the game before someone got hurt. (y/n)’s friend nodded and followed her through the crowd of Slytherins and down the stands.

Just as they reached Madam Hooch, the bludger had slammed into Harry’s arm as he reached for the snitch and he hit the dirt soon after; though he had the snitch in hand, Gryffindor had won the game. “Oh shit,” (y/n) muttered under her breath, looking at Harrys very broken arm, as Madam Hooch blew the whistle, ending the game.

The Weasley twins somehow caught the tampered bludger, getting it back into the box and locking it down. Madam Hooch instantly saw to it, and while that all happened-the idiot Lockhart…erm…mended Harry’s arm.

“Ew,” (y/n) muttered as her friend gagged at the rubber look Harry’s arm had taken. Lockhart hadn’t mended shit; he’d removed Harry’s bones!

“That is so nasty,” (y/n)’s friend muttered, and (y/n) nodded in agreement, heading back to the castle after Headmaster Dumbledore told everyone the match was over and to head back to the castle while Harry, and any other injured players, went to Madam Pomfrey.

“Gotta be honest, Gryffindor deserved that win, I mean-odds stacked against them, with those new brooms and that bloody bludger, they won. Shame Potter’s arm got broken for it though.” (y/n)’s friend ranted as they walked back to the common room, (y/n) nodding in agreement. “I have to wonder who tampered the bludger? I mean Madam Hooch checks them right before the game, and if it wasn’t tampered then, how could’ve someone hexed it within the minutes before the game began?”

(y/n) shrugged as her friend continued to rant. “Maybe someone tampered with it mid-game? Because it wasn’t doing it at first, if it was tampered with before the game-it would’ve gone after Harry straight away? Wouldn’t it?” (y/n) suggested, walking into the common room after several other students and her friend nodded, tapping her chin.

“That does sound logical, though I’m not sure how or why anyone would do that, I mean-he’s just a 12-year-old kid? Who’d want to charm a bloody iron magic ball to hurt him?” (y/n) shrugged in response to her friend's rhetorical question.

“Someone fucked up,” (y/n) answered anyway and her friend sighed, the two entering their dorm room. Her friend went to wipe the Slytherin-themed makeup off her face while (y/n) went to her bed and grabbed the diary.

“Potter almost got killed by a bludger at the quidditch match today.”

(y/n) could almost feel the sense of ‘!!?!?!’ from Tom as he hurriedly wrote back to her.

‘Who starts a conversation like that? also what? how? I never liked Quidditch but I’m sure those Quidditch gear chests are impossible to get into?’

“that’s what I said, I think someone jinxed it mid game because it wasn’t going after him at first.”

‘How odd. And it was going after Potter specifically?’

“yeah! Only him, the Weasley twins kept batting it away from him but it would go right back after Potter. Its really weird.”

‘I cannot tell you it isn’t, because it is very odd.’

“yeah”

(y/n) perked up as her friend came back out of the bathroom. “I’m going to go get lunch, you coming?” her friend asked and (y/n) nodded.

“Yeah, lemme just wash my face,” (y/n) said, looking back down at the diary and telling Tom she had to go, setting the book down on the bedside table and going into the bathroom to wash her face.

-

(y/n) woke up very late that night, a ringing in her ears as she opened her eyes, feeling kinda nauseous. She groaned lightly, realizing she’d fallen off her bed, her head pounding as she attempted to get up, pressing her palms to her eyes as they ached.

“What the fuck,” she muttered, rubbing her face. She’d never fallen off her bed before, but considering the odd dream she had-she wasn’t surprised. She eventually got to her feet after the nausea had passed and climbed back into bed, yawning.

She laid back down, but couldn’t get back to sleep. Her mind kept going back to that odd dream. She had been walking through the halls of Hogwarts, at what seemed to be a late hour, and went into one of the bathrooms and…spoke a strange language-a hissing language, and the…sink had come apart??? After that she woke up, having fallen off her bed mid weird dream.

She huffed and drew the curtains around her bed, grabbing her wand, the diary, and her quill. “Lumos,” (y/n) murmured and the tip of her wand began to glow and she opened the diary, flipping through pages and pages of notes, and doodles.

She dipped her quill and began to write to Tom.

“I fell out of my bed,”

‘And why is that so important to tell me? It’s late I’m sure, you should be asleep.’

“you’re right but I cant get back to sleep, I had a weird dream and woke up after falling out of my bed, which ive never done”

“or at least I havent done since I was a kid?”

‘Interesting. What was your dream about if I may ask?’

(y/n) wrote down what she remembered from the dream, and then added a small detail she hadn’t realized till now.

“it felt like I was having an out of body experience, or like I was watching through someone elses eyes? You get what I mean?”

‘I suppose I do, though im sure there’s nothing to worry about, everyone has odd dreams sometimes.’

“have you ever had an odd dream?”

‘Yes, I’m not divulging that information though, you’ll tease me relentlessly about it.’

“no I wont!”

(y/n) huffed as Tom didn’t respond, and she could imagine the expression of ‘sure you wont’ on his face. She wished she knew wha the looked like…wait maybe she could find him in the gallery! He did say he was a prefect in his time, maybe there was a picture somewhere of the 1942-1943 prefects.

“you’re no fun.”

‘Go to sleep (y/n),’

“fiiiine, goodnight Tom.”

‘Goodnight, (y/n)’

-

“A first year got petrified?!” (y/n) asked in a hushed tone, her eyes wide as she gripped her friend's hand tightly as they walked to breakfast Monday morning.

“Yeah, apparently it happened Saturday night, or well, early Sunday morning if you think about it that way-but Professor Dumbledore found him in the middle of the night-just-stone still, petrified.” (y/n)’s friend rambled and (y/n) frowned, squeezing her friend’s hand tighter.

Early Sunday morning…she’d had that weird dream and fell out of her bed Sunday morning.

“What time did the first year get petrified?” (y/n) asked and her friend shrugged.

“Dunno, I’m only telling you what I heard from the grapevine, all I know is Sunday morning, a first year got petrified.” (y/n) huffed nervously in response, swallowing harshly, that weird feeling of paranoia returning to her gut.

Just a coincidence, just a coincidence. It had to be; besides, she’d just fallen out of her bed this time, she hadn’t sleepwalked, she hadn’t even left her dorm room.

…right?

-

“I’m leaving.” (y/n) huffed as dumbass Lockhart came onto the long dueling stage that was set up lengthwise in the great hall, replacing the house tables. Her friend grabbed her arm as she attempted to escape, tugging her towards the edge of the stage-making them be front and center.

“Oh, come on (y/n)~ it’ll be fun!” her friend said cheerfully, she’d didn’t understand why (y/n)…disliked ‘Professor’ Lockhart, even thinking he was hot.

It was one of the few things (y/n) vehemently disagreed with her on.

“it’ll be cringe as fuck that’s what it’ll be.” (y/n) grumbled, crossing her arms as she pouted. She expected maybe Professor Flitwick to be the head of the dueling club, but noooo it had to be the obvious fake Lockhart.

Though-Professor Snape had agreed to…help Lockhart in a demonstration, and that, was going to be fun.

(y/n) couldn’t help the peal of laughter that came from her as Snape sent Lockhart across the dueling stage, her friend gasping as Lockhart landed with a thump. “Is he okay?” her friend asked and (y/n) just snickered with the rest of the Slytherin members of the club.

“Who cares? That was funny.” (y/n) chuckled, smirking as her friend gave her a glare. After that everyone got paired into groups, Lockhart nearly putting the little 1st and 2nd years with the 5th and 6th years attending, Snape correcting that mistake and putting (y/n) against a fellow 6th-year Slytherin, though (y/n) hardly knew his name.

“Remember, disarm only!” Lockhart said and (y/n) rolled her eyes, bowing her to dueling partner with her wand at her side and then holding it out in front of her, her other arm over her head for balance.

The dueling began moments later, and spells shot out of their wands every other moment. (y/n) began with the disarming charm, expelliarmus, but her opponent blocked it and returned with a Stupefy. (y/n) went to block but it felt like she wasn’t in control of herself anymore, she stepped to the side-avoiding the spell-and held out her wand in a grip that wasn’t her own.

“Relashio!” With a wave of her wand her dueling opponent was forced to drop their wand and then (y/n) twirled her wand again. “Depulso!” A blast of white magic flew towards her dueling opponent and they flew back, hitting the ground with a loud thud.

There was an intense satisfaction that ran deep in her bones for a split moment, and an odd feeling to finish her opponent off-but that quickly went away and (y/n) pocketed her wand, rushing over to her dueling partner. “Are you okay?” (y/n) asked, offering her hand and her dueling partner chuckled painfully, rubbing their lower back as she helped them stand.

“I’m okay-that was wicked casting though,” (y/n) only nodded in response, licking her teeth as the dueling groups were stopped, a green haze in the air from the dueling 2nd years. She began to leave the great hall as Potter and Malfoy began to duel, only stopping when she heard a strange hissing coming from the stage.

She turned, the hissing sounding too familiar, coming from Potter as he…hissed at a black snake? Her ears began to ring, her vision going a bit blurry as she stared at Potter, the boy hissing at the snake before Snape destroyed it.

What the fuck?

That was the same hissing she’d heard in her dream on Sunday.

-end of p3-

im very happy with this part and i hope you guys are too-taglist!!!

@dracosslxt4eva @dream-your-own-way @slaggylemon

@slytherinbackintomyroom @starryhiraeth @larallott

[kunikisss]

i <3 beneath the boardwalk

[avis-writeshq]

06 — untouchable

summary: “come on, come on, say that we’ll be together/”i’m caught up in you.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, slow burn,  warnings: rated 16+ for two mentions of nakedness, short blood mention, brief mention of dead things, mostly canon compliant (s4 e23 ‘amplification’), wc: 4.3k a/n: thank you again to the lovely @astrophileous for beta-reading <3 good luck on your thesis babes MWAH SERIES MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

38 Hours Before the Phone Call – Monday, 8:42AM, BAU Office

Spencer arrives at the office with a stupidly giddy smile on his face. His cheeks are flushed as he grips a hot takeaway cup of coffee in his hands. He taps the cup idly with his fingers, bouncing on the heels of his feet as he steps out of the elevator unable to shake the smile off his face. It’s ridiculous and insane and borderline delusional but he knows it’s far from that. After all, he has a perfectly good reason as to why he is in such high spirits and that reason is you. After years of pining and psyching himself up (only to psych himself out) he managed to actually ask you out on a date. And, he reminds himself with a silly smile, he actually kissed you. And it wasn’t one of those platonic kisses, no, this was an actual kiss to the lips and he couldn’t be happier. 

He thinks back to the previous night, visualising the way your cheeks grew warm and the way your lips felt against his. His own cheeks flush at the thoughts and he remembers committing that version of you to memory. How on earth are you so beautiful? Even while sleep deprived with dark bags under your eyes or unruly hair, he still thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. 

“Pretty boy,” Derek comments in a teasing sing-songy voice as Spencer takes a sip of his coffee, trying to appear nonchalant. “Ooh, I know that look.”

Spencer chokes a little, wiping his mouth with a tissue in his bag. “What look?”

“Someone got lucky last night,” Derek responds with a grin. “It must be the hair. I heard that long hair gets all the ladies nowadays.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Spencer is quick to deny, walking through the big glass doors of the office. 

“Who got lucky last night?” Emily asks, poking her head out of her little stall. Her eyes flit to Spencer and she grins. “Oh… I see how it is.”

“Nothing happened last night,” Spencer says adamantly, swiping a hand over his face. “It isn’t like that. Whatever we have is good. It doesn’t need to be–” He coughs quietly as blood rushes to his ears– “to be sexual. I like her. More than physically.”

Emily coos at his confession, twisting around her desk to ruffle his hair. “You’re such a gentleman, Reid.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” he says through a laugh, swatting Emily’s hands away. “Being a gentleman. Some women prefer it over the whole macho act.”

“Hey, I am plenty gentleman,” Derek says swiftly, holding a finger out. “And chicks dig the macho thing.”

*** 

14 Hours Before the Phone Call – Tuesday, 7:09AM, BAU Office

It was supposed to be a normal morning. It was supposed to be an average Tuesday with your average, run-of-the-mill serial killer with daddy issues but instead, JJ called the entire team in the early hours of the morning, saying to get to the BAU as quickly as possible. 

“Case must be local. JJ said not to bring a go-bag,” Spencer says as they enter the office. 

In moments they were met with a complete arsenal of military personnel, bustling around their desks and storming throughout the office. Others were answering and sending phone calls, demanding for processes to be sped up as Hotch speaks to a group of people in his own personal office, Rossi beside him.

“What’s the army doing here?” Derek asks, his brows furrowed.

“What the hell is going on?” Emily demands, eyeing the uniformed professionals as they splay casefiles across their desks. 

They all enter the conference room where JJ was waiting for them, along with a neatly dressed Asian woman with her hair tied up in a ponytail and out of her face. 

“Guys, this is Dr Linda Kimura, Chief of Special Pathogens at the CDC,” JJ introduces, filling up styrofoam cups with water and placing them around the round table. 

“Hello. I’m sorry to meet under these circumstances,” she says as she places pills on a shiny metal tray. 

Spencer frowns at that. “What circumstances?”

Hotch enters the room instantly, gripping a case file in his iron fist. “We need to get started.”

“Last night, twenty-five people checked into emergency rooms in and around Annapolis. They were all at the same park after 2PM yesterday. Within 10 hours, the first victim died. It’s now just past 7AM the next day, we have twelve people dead,” JJ explains as the rest of team look through the manilla files. 

“Lung failure and black lesions,” Derek murmurs thoughtfully. “Anthrax?”

Spencer flicks through the papers, scanning the tox screen. “Anthrax doesn’t kill this fast.”

“This strain does,” Kimura says, an edge of fear in her tone.

“What are we doing about potential mass targets– airports, malls, trains?” Emily asks, turning to Hotch who shakes his head. 

“There’s a media blackout.”

“We’re not telling the public?”

Derek looks over at Emily. “We’d have a mass exodus.”

“The psychology of group panic would cause more deaths than this last attack,” Rossi explains.

“Yeah, and if it does get out, whoever did this might go underground or destroy their samples,” Spencer says as he sifts through the papers. 

“Or if they wanted attention and didn’t get it, they might attack again. Doesn’t the public have the right know that?” 

“If there is another attack, there’s no way we’ll be able to keep it quiet,” Hotch says urgently. “Our best chance of protecting the public is by building a profile as quickly as we can.”

Spencer wets his bottom lip nervously, his thoughts drifting to you. You work indoors all day. You’ll be fine, you have to be. “What do we know about this strain?”

“The spores are weaponized,” Kimura explains, “reduced to a respiral ideal that attacks deep in the lungs. Odourless and invisible.”

Rossi nods, almost as if he wasn’t surprised at all upon hearing the news. “A sophisticated strain. Only a scientist would know how to do that.”

“These lesions are doubling in size in a matter of hours,” Derek points out, gesturing to the less than positive crime photos in their files. 

“It’s not the lesions I’m worried about,” Kimura begins, taking an ultrasound scan of a patient’s lungs and presenting it to the team. “Its the lungs. We don’t know how to com2bat the toxins once they’re inside. And the reality is, we may lose them all.”

“The remaining survivors have been moved to a special wing at Walter Reed Hospital. Our offices will become a small command centre,” JJ tells them.

“We’ll be working with military scientists from Fort Detrick,” Hotch adds on.

“General Whitworth is coming here?” Rossi asks.

Hotch nods in the affirmative. “He’s in charge of sit containment and spore analysis. Determining what strain this is will help inform who’s responsible.”

“My team is in charge of treating all victims,” Kimura goes on to tell the team, looking at each person.

“Reid, go with Dr. Kimura to the hospital, interview the victims,” Hotch says, dishing out responsibilities. “Morgan and Prentiss, there’s a hazmat team that will accompany you to the crime scene. There’s Cipro. Everybody needs to take it before we go.”

Linda hands a small plastic container, each one having two round tablets resting inside. “We don’t know if it’s effective against this strain, but it’s something.”

Emily lets out a nervous breath as she toys with the rim of the container. “This… is really happening?

“We knew this could happen. We’ve done our homework. We’ve prepared for this. This is it,” Hotch says as reassuringly as possible before knocking his head back and taking the two Cipro tablets. 

“Cent’anni,” Rossi toasts, holding the little container out. “May you live one hundred years.”

*** 

Everyone rushes about, gathering files and resources before the head off to complete their allocated assignments. Regardless of how much is at stake in this certain situation, Spencer feels his heart spike with anxiety. It’s against protocol, sure, but shouldn’t he call you? Tell you to take a sick day and stay at home, or to just stay indoors the entire time you’re at work. Maybe if he’s lucky he could get you into witness protection. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Hotch says slowly, seemingly appearing out of thin air behind him. 

Spencer freezes, his hands pausing as they rummage through his bag in search of his cell. “I’m not.”

“You’re not thinking?” Hotch asks, raising an eyebrow. “I know what you want to do.”

“I can’t just– I can’t just keep her in the dark, Hotch,” Spencer insists, continuing to feel for his cell phone. “She could get infected and–” His mouth runs dry at the idea and he swallows thickly. “If I can protect her, then why shouldn’t I?

Aaron sighs, his forehead wrinkling as his eyebrows knit together. “I know you care about her and I know you’re worried, but she isn’t on this team anymore. If we all called home and used this information to give them the advantage that other people don’t have… is that really the right thing to do?”

“Don’t give me a moral dilemma, Hotch. This isn’t a hypothetical,” Spencer counters, finally finding the little device buried at the bottom of his satchel. “When I– when the incident with Tobias Hankel happened, she never gave up on me. She went out on a limb for me. I’m returning the favour.”

Hotch is quiet for a moment before finally, “What about the guilt?”

Spencer balks. “What?”

“If she is saved because of the information you gave her… can you imagine the guilt she would feel? She’s a selfless person, Spencer, and knowing her… well, you can guess what she would do,” Aaron says, glancing back to his office where Rossi is waving him over. “I’m sure you’ll make the right decision. Kimura is waiting for you.”

Hotch is gone before Spencer could say anything. He huffs quietly, guilty after hearing Hotch’s words. Even though he doesn’t want to admit it, he has to accept that his boss is right. The best way to keep you safe is by finding this UnSub before he could hurt any more people. He rubs at his eyes in frustration, stalking out of the BAU offices. Hopefully you’ll forgive him.

*** 

“Dr. Lawrence Nichols? Yeah, I read about him. He was highly respected doctor who studied anthrax prior to the attacks in 2001,” Spencer says as he gets into the passenger seat of Derek’s SUV. He rolls up the sleeves of his dark purple shirt, brushing some sweat from his forehead. “They think that he’s behind it?”

“There was a video of him at a conference with the with the National Defense Committee. He was paranoid after the Amerithrax attacks in 2001, proposing some crazy high budget to ‘protect the people of America’,” Derek explains. “He matches the profile exactly. Prentiss and Rossi are heading to his work. Apparently he got demoted into working with influenza.”

Spencer grimaces as he stares at the overgrowing rose bushes at the front of Dr. Nichols’s house, his nose scrunching up in distaste. Do people not hire gardeners anymore? He squeezes past a few bushes to follow Derek closer to the house, hissing when his hand gets caught on one of the thorns. He shakes his hand out, a scratch already blooming on the back of his hand with small droplets ot blood already emerging. 

He continues to walk into the house as Derek’s phone rings, entering the house through a glass sliding door. The whirring of the fan above him grabs his attention and he frowns. The fan is on but the door is open… someone must have left in a hurry. He takes another step forward, jolting when he hears the sound of glass being crushed under his feet. Shit.

“Reid?” Derek yells, and Spencer jumps. 

“Morgan, get– get back!” Spencer yells, slamming the sliding door shut so hard that the glass shakes. “Get back! Get out of here!”

Derek frowns, tugging at the handle. ‘What are you doing? What’s wrong?”

“No, don’t!”

“What’s wrong?” Derek asks again, tugging once more at the handle; Spencer is a lot stronger than he expected.

“What’s wrong?”

Spencer pushes his hair out of his face in frustration as he locks the door, turning back to his friend. “I’m sorry.”

It is in that moment that Derek’s eyes turn to the ground, his eyes widening in disbelief as he sees the white powder in the room leaking from a broken test tube with a bright yellow symbol for ‘biological hazard’. 

It feels like hours before Hotch and the military arrive at the house, along with an ambulance and a hazmat team. The stench of Dr. Nichols’s dead body lingers in the air even though the air-con is blasting and the air is circulating through the room. He doesn’t even want to think about the dead animals and test subjects in the cages, his stomach churning at the mere thought. From what he could tell, the doctor was dead three days ago, meaning that he couldn’t have been the one to infect those people at the park. His head is pounding and his throat itches and all of a sudden he can’t breathe. He tells himself to relax but how can he when he very well could die in here? He knows the statistics; only 55% of those who receive aggressive treatment survive. He doesn’t like those odds. 

“Hotch, I really messed up this time,” he says hoarsely into the phone, wiping the sweat off his upper lip.

“Reid, we need to get you out and to the hospital,” Hotch says firmly, and Spencer watches as he puts the call on speaker. 

“What– no, I’m staying right here,” Spencer insists, frowning. 

Derek interrupts swiftly, “No, you’re not, Reid.”

“I’m already exposed,” Spencer says, his voice straining as he turns back into Dr. Nichols’s makeshift lab. “It’s not gonna do me any good to stop working the case.”

General Whitworth grimaces in response. “He’s already infected. Now, if Nichols created the strain, he may have also created the cure.”

“My best chance is to stay here, see if there’s a cure, and try to figure out who killed Dr. Nichols,” Spencer insists as he searches through the lab for what seems like the millionth time. 

Test tubes, files, and text books litter the lab, a flurry of papers splayed across the floor. The sight of them remind him of the first time he met you when you had ran into him on his first official day at the BAU. You were a swirling rainstorm as you practically slammed your head against his chest, the paperwork you were carrying flying into the air as you toppled over like a house of cards. In that moment, Spencer could have sworn that you were untouchable. You were like a fire, burning brighter than the sun, and he would be damned if he ever made that flame flicker away. 

“Come on, Hotch, say something to him,” Derek tries again, worry laced in his tone.

Aaron hesitates as he considers his options before sighing. “He’s right. His best chase is inside. We’re gonna get a suit and mask in to you right away.”

“Don’t bother, it’s not going to do me any good. I’m already infected.” Spencer knows that if you were still part of the team that you would be scolding him about being so stubborn. Hell, you’re not even on the team anymore and you still scold him about it. 

As he continues to try and search for more clues and filtering the information he finds through to Derek, his thoughts continuously drift back to you. You and your blissfully unaware state. He thinks of the way you smile and the way you felt in his arms that day. He is sure that the universe is playing tricks with him because the one moment he finally has you, you’re ripped away from him. His mind wanders back to the way your eyes lit up and the way your lips felt against his and in that moment he’s begging. He’s begging whatever higher power there is that he is part of the 55% of people who survive an anthrax attack after treatment. 

“Hey, Reid,” Penelope’s voice echoes through the phone, sad and mopey. It’s unlike her, incredibly uncharacteristic and Spencer chokes out a quiet laugh. 

“Reid? Wow, no, uh… no witty Garcia greeting for me?” He asks, running his fingers through his damp sweaty hair. It’s disgusting and gross and he hates it because he knows that it’s a symptom of the disease. 

Penelope chuckles weakly from the other side of the line. “I can’t be my sparkly self when you are where you are.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that so instead he asks, “Garcia, do you think you can do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“I… I know I can’t call… I know I can’t call (Y/N) or my mother without, uh–” he coughs, wiping his face with the palm of his hand and feeling his clammy skin– “without alerting everyone.”

“What do you need?”

“I– uh– I need you to record a message. Two messages. One for my mother and the other for… for (Y/N). In case anything happens to me.” His voice cracks as he speaks, his hand trembling because oh God, this really could be the end. After everything he went through going to those Narcotics Anonymous meetings, getting clean, going to therapy… this is how it ends?

“Oh, nothing is gonna happen to you,” Garcia says, wholeheartedly believing it. “You’re gonna brilliantly find ut who did this and we’re gonna treat this strain.”

Spencer lets out a nervous breath. “I hope you’re right. But if you’re not, I just… I really want to make sure that they hear my voice. Both of them.”

“Okay. Just– just give me a second,” Penelope mumbles, clicking away on her keyboard. 

“Are you ready?”

“Ready.”

“This– um, it’s for my mum first…” He clears his throat, trying to keep his voice even. “Hi, mum. This is Spencer. I just– I just really want you to know that I love you, and– and I need you to know that I spend every day of my life proud to be your son.”

Penelope presses pause on that message, murmuring, “Okay. And– and for (Y/N)?”

“Is it on?” He asks quietly, coughing as the itchiness in his throat refuses to relent. “Hey, angel, it’s me, Spenc– Walter. It’s your Walter.” His voice catches in his throat as he speaks, tears slipping past his eyes as he tries to choke out the words. “If you’re getting this then something happened and I just wanted you to know that– that– that I love you. I didn’t get the chance to tell you that before but I do. I love you and I wish it didn’t turn out like this but I am– I am so glad that we had that moment.”

“Reid?”

Dr. Kimura enters the room through the sliding door, clad in a bright red hazmat suit. “Prep the victim for transfer.”

“I gotta go,” Spencer says quickly, hanging up the call and pocketing his phone. 

“Dr. Reid,” Kimura says, walking over to him.

“You look nice,” he says drily, staring at the uniform. It looks very similar to an astronaut costume and if he were in any other situation, he would have started to laugh.

Kimura chuckles quietly. “I haven’t been in this outfit for a while.”

“How… how are the patients doing?” Spencer manages to ask, and suddenly it feels as if all the air is kicked out of his lungs. His head throbs with each attempt he makes to take in a breath and sweat pools at the top of his lip. 

“Let’s worry about you.”

“I actually… I feel fine,” Spencer lies through gritted teeth, the muscles in his shoulders aching with each heave of his chest. 

Kimura nods, her concern palpable. “Okay, if you feel any pain, I can give you something.”

In an instant, the fear of losing all the progress he has made in the past year pools to his stomach and he shakes his head adamantly, ignoring the way the room spins. “No, I’d rather not take any pain medication.”

“We can at least make you feel more comfortable.”

“I am comfortable and I don’t want to take any narcotics!” Spencer says firmly, and he can see the realisation dawn in Kimura’s eyes. 

“Okay… tell me how I can help.”

“I think the cure for this strain is in here somewhere,” he says through heavy breaths, sucking in a mouthful of air with every sentence. 

It isn’t long before the hazmat team has Spencer in a decontamination tent, the smell of sterile plastic filling his nose. They’re hosing him down behind a clear plastic curtain, Derek standing in front of him. The feeling of the cold water splashing against his back is uncomfortable, and Spencer grimaces at the feeling of his clothes sticking to his skin. It’s gross and his work shirt is growing heavy from the waterweight, sagging down on his shoulders. The anthrax isn’t helping either. It’s too hot and too cold all at once, it’s too hard to breathe and it’s like his head weighs a million pounds. 

“Go help Hotch,” Spencer croaks out to Derek, shivering as they continue to spray water on his back and front.

“Hotch has plenty of people helping him,” Derek dismisses. 

Spencer shakes his head and regrets it immediately, his head starting to spin. “He needs you more than I do.”

“Reid, I’m gonna see you off to the hospital.”

“I’m about to get naked so that they can scrub me down. Is that something you really want to see?” Spencer deadpans.

Derek grimaces before finally saying, “What if (Y/N) were here? Would you tell her to go?”

“(Y/N)  wouldn’t mind seeing me naked.”

Derek’s eyebrows shoot upwards at Spencer’s less than innocent words, immediately turning away. “We are having a conversation about this later. Take good care of him, please.”

The ambulance is stuffy and cramped, and the scrubs that he has to wear is itchy and uncomfortable. They’re menial thoughts that don’t even matter considering the severity of the situation, and Spencer wheezes out of a cough; a reminder that he might not even live to see the next day. The nasal cannula that is attached to Spencer’s nose isn’t doing much to assist him to breathe, and he coughs again. 

“How are you feeling, Dr. Reid?” Kimura asks as she checks his vitals. 

“My throats a little dry, but other than that I feel– I flee– feel…” He blanks. His mind knows the words but they get stuck on his tongue and he panics. It can’t end like this. He refuses for it to end like this. “Flee– fleel– I–”

Kimura nods in understanding, a sense of urgency behind her words. “Okay. Okay, you’re doing okay. Driver, faster!”

“Call–” Spencer tries again, the words spinning in his head. “Pelen– Penel… low… len…”

Call Penelope, he tries to say, the lights in the ambulance growing brighter and brighter. She needs to give (Y/N) the message, she needs to… she needs to…

All he sees is white.

*** 

The first thing Spencer notices when he regains consciousness is the smell of lavender and oranges overpowering the sterile scent of antibacterial wipes. It’s comforting and familiar and he wracks his brain as he tries to remember where he remembers it from. He doesn’t remember much; only getting into the ambulance and Kimura asking him questions. He shuffles around in his hospital bed, stretching his aching muscles. He forces his eyes open little by little, and he quints at the woman at the end of his hospital bed. 

“(Y/N)?”

“You ass,” you respond tearfully, your voice cracking as you swat him lightly on the arm. “You refused treatment?”

He smiles a little, sitting up on the bed. “Hey, angel.”

“Don’t ‘hey angel’ me,” you sniffle, taking hold of his hand and stroking his palm with your thumb. “You scared me.”

Spencer hums softly in acknowledgement, squeezing your hand back. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Dr. Kimura said that you should be free to go in a couple of days but you need rest afterwards,” you tell him, brushing a strand of his hair behind his ear. “You owe me a date.”

“I do,” he murmurs, his cheeks flushed and a giddy smile on his face despite where he is. He looks at you, you and his oversized CalTech hoodie. The hoodie in itself is ugly; a muted grey with a half-assed logo slapped to the front and Spencer has hated it ever since he bought it with what little funds he had back in college. Yet, for some reason, he doesn’t hate it so much when you wear it. “You look beautiful.”

You roll your pretty eyes at him, moving your chair closer to him. “Liar.”

“Never,” he whispers. “Never to you.”

You smile at him again, bringing your lips to the back of his hand. “You told me you loved me. Is that true, too?”

“Love,” he corrects you quietly, “and I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

Heat rushes up your neck at his words and you beam at him, kissing his cheeks. “I love you.”

He reaches a hand out to hold the back of your neck, his thumb stroking the line from your ear to your jaw. “I love you,” he says into the space between you, before kissing you again. 

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[wellnessgirlblog]

60 Days Challenge ༉‧₊˚

This is like my own version of the 75 Day Hard Challenge. For the next two months, I will follow these daily rules:

Follow a meal plan.

Drink 8-10 glasses of water.

Exercise daily.

Read 10 pages of any book.

Follow a morning and night routine.

Less than 3 hrs of screen time.

Keep track everyday.

1. Meal Plan:

I will add vegetables or fruits at each meal and fast 16:8 three times a week. I will focus on eating in moderation and adding healthy foods rather than restricting some type of food.

2. Hydration:

In addition to water, I will have two cups of tea (one in the morning and one at night). I won't drink anything else.

3. Exercise:

I will do some form of exercise every day, for at least 30 minutes, and I will stretch for at least 10 minutes. The main goal is to move !!! so I will do whatever suits my day the most.

4. Reading:

I love reading ! The minimum is 10 pages, but I'll try to read as much as possible. This will also be a way of not spending too much time on the phone.

5. Daily routines:

I want to start and end the day the right way. I created my routines based on what was best for me and my schedule. For example, my morning routine is short and simple because I don't have a lot of time, and my night routine is focused on relaxing because otherwise I have a hard time sleeping.

6. Less than 3 hrs of screentime:

This doesn't include time in screens for school. My goal here is to limit the time I spend on social media and spend that time on other activities instead. I will probably only use that time for my duolingo lessons, watch a movie or post on tumblr, and I will set a timer everytime I use a screen.

7. Keep a record:

I will keep a record here of how I feel every day during this challenge. The goal with this is to realize what works and what doesn't, in order to improve. I also think it's easier for me to stay on track if I write it down somewhere.

[austinbutlerslovers]

Hard at Work

Label Mature 18+

Summary You and Austin have been away from each other for 3 weeks as he films the Bikeriders. It’s agonizing for you both unable to physically be together. After pulling some strings Austin is able to have you stay for the weekend and even visit him on set. You finally reunite in his trailer and he immediately uses you to relieve his sexual urges.

Established relationship girlfriend

Fingering•restraint•orgasm•oral sex male•cum eating

Inspo: Anon request 💝 “Austin missing you and not being able to see you or have sex with you but you get to visit him on set one day and he wont have sex at work because he’s professional but he’s so stressed he makes you give him oral instead lots of oral description on Austin and how he uses you for stress relief”

Hard at Work

It’s been 3 weeks since Austin left to Ohio to film the Bikeriders. After being apart from him so long all you can do is fantasize about him. His giant house is empty the staff cleans while you run errands and work out. You comfort yourself in the evening after your shower going through the walk in closet pulling one of his white tees and smelling his scent, vanilla orange blossoms with musk you wear one to bed.

Every night you have facetime sex with him, he has a full goatee now and his voice sounds incredible as he tells you how to pleasure yourself for him as you watch him mastrubate on camera. Every time you close the laptop you feel a twinge of pain you crave his company his touch his everything.

You lay back on his empty king size bed and hug a pillow until you doze off.

You over sleep the next morning the maid knocks on the master bedroom door and you sit up in bed eyes squinting as you wake up . “Just a minute“ you say picking your phone up from the night stand to check the time. It’s blown up with texts and missed calls from Austin.

Austin 8:16 - Baby pack a bag I’m having you flown out

Austin 8:49- Baby where are you? I got approval to have you stay at my apartment ! Please answer

9:09 Missed Call

9:15 Missed Call

9:29 Missed Call

You immediately press call back

You: “Austin oh my gosh baby I overslept I’m so sorry we were on face time so late last night and l I was just missing you so much”

Austin: “Not for long your staying with me this weekend I’m kidnapping you and holding you hostage ”

You smile

You:“Austin I will be the most willing hostage for you “

You both laugh

Austin: “I need you, I’m missing you so badly baby. When I’m alone in the apartment at night after we face time I’m just gutted I want you to sleep here with me . I begged the coordinator to have you stay and they said they’ll allow two days at first to see how it affects my work and if all goes well you can come back longer for the weeks when I’m needed in less scenes. Now that it’s happening I’m just so grateful I’ll get to have you here..”

His voice trails off he misses you so much

You: “Aww Austin I’ll be there soon, I'm so excited you have no idea. I always assume you’ll be away the entire time you work this must’ve been a really big ask”

Austin:“Yea I think it was, I requested 3 weeks ago before I even arrived here and they just granted this morning. Oh! and its freezing here I’m wearing my hoodie and socks right now in the apartment, pack everything warm!”

You: “Okay I will, do you need me bring you anything? Do you need more hoodies?

You giggle

Austin:“Yes! More hoodies and more you!”

You both smile on each end of the call.

You: “Okay let me know all the details. I’m already mentally packing a bag to be there with you ”

You put him on speaker and open your notes app and he explains the dynamics of the trip what time you are arriving who will pick you up. He sends you his door code plane tickets and NDA paperwork to email back signed. Once everything is complete you say your I love yous and hang up.

You let out a shriek of excitement as you run to the walk in closet packing your weekend bag full of sexy lingerie and skimpy outfits to go see Austin. Then you smartly pack your jeans and jackets with his hoodies.

Ohio

It’s just before noon the sun is trying to peek through the overcast clouds covering the city of Ohio. Austin booked you an early flight to maximize his time with you. As you leave the airport after the 5 hour trip you rest your hand on your chin and close your eyes a little tired.

You are wearing black leggings and one of Austin’s black hoodies. His driver adjusts the rear view mirror as he speaks to you. “Austin would like me to make a quick stop at his apartment to drop off your things then promptly bring you to the filming location for the day, I have your passes. “Thank you” you say kindly then remember to text Austin. You snap a a selfie and attach it to the message.

You: “I’m here”

You look out the window and yawn trying to be more alert .

Your phone buzzes

Austin: “Fuck you look so good,I’m so excited you’ll be with me soon. I get a break in my trailer in a few hours I want you there.” He sends a picture of he and Jody comer in their costumes throwing up peace signs making you laugh.

“I’ll be there baby” you type.

You put your phone away and rest you eyes a moment more.

The driver pulls up to a condominium community the camera scans his car sticker in the window the gate opens. He pulls to a stop at the side entrance of the building popping the trunk the sound waking you up.

He opens your door and you exit the car following him as he takes your luggage. He wheels it in as he scans his key fob entering the building. He takes the elevator with you to the second floor exiting into the hall and stopping in front of door B17. You enter the code the lock wizzes open.

“Here is my card if you need anything I’ll be waiting for you downstairs” the drives instructs.

“Thank you” you say again and you giddily enter Austin’s place.

It’s dark inside all his shades are drawn. You click on a light stepping into the living room area and he was right it’s freezing. You check the thermostat its on but clearly not heating the place.

The apartment is a one bedroom Airbnb style set up, amenities with contemporary decor. There is a beige couch and beige curtains on dark hard wood floors. A shelf full of fake decorative vases a television and a desk set up against the window with a computer and a laptop.

You walk over to the desk. Austin has a pod cast mic set up next to his laptop a stack of books and a script. He also a framed photo he snapped of you laying on his bed.

You look back recognizing the chandelier and the bookshelf of vases in the living room realizing this is where he has the face time sex calls you have together making you blush.

You head to the master bedroom, there is a queen sized bed with two night stands, ornate lamps and a bookshelf, his outfit is already laid out on the duvet covers a black hoodie, gray sweat pants white socks. You enter the bathroom he has his skin care products neatly arranged on the counter it’s so cute you can’t stand how organized he is.

You bring your suitcase to the bedroom and undress, adding your plane outfit to his laundry basket and rinsing off. You exit the shower and dry off trembling the air is frigid in the apartment.

You pull your white mini skirt and stretchy black long sleeve v neck top from your suitcase adding boots a scarf with a black trench coat. You know how much he loves you in mini skirts.

Underneath you have a delicate lacy bra and panty set that he loves to feel the texture of on your body, the bra also makes your tits look amazing. You smile looking in the mirror peeking at your outfit thighs and breasts on full display then you tie the trench coat tight covering it all back up. He’s going to devour you.

You make sure to bring the gifts you picked up for him. Dark chocolate, ‘Essential Oils: Stress Relief Kit’ and one hoodie for on set.

As you exit the building the driver opens your door and you climb in with your gift bag feeling refreshed and excited to finally see him.

It takes 25 minutes to drive from the apartment to the filming location for the day.

The driver rolls down his window showing his ID badge at the first security check . You look out the and see the signage for ‘Edge Water Motorsports Park’. As you roll in the grounds are littered with tons of people dressed as bikers, there is a camera crane, camera crew, dozens of set coordiators standing around, extras makeup artists stunt men and personel with clip boards making sure everyone is where they are supposed to be. There is one person in charge with a megaphone progressing the production.

Your stomach is in knots this is such a big ordeal. It always impresses and intimidates you how Austin can just turn on and be in character with all of this chaos going on around him and that all of these people are here for the movie he is the star of. You’ve never been invited on set before and now you are feeling the apprehension as to why.

You drive through the final check point of security the leading cast trailer area. You look in awe seeing the doors with the names Hardy and Comer stopping at Butler .

Two security approach the car one speaks to the driver the other opens your door as you exit withyour gift bag. He hands you your lanyard with a VIP marking

“You keep this on you at all times on set, Austin is expecting you, he’s in his trailer” he says gruffly and you thank him.

The Trailer

You approach the long air bus that reads Butler and smile. You walk up two steps and knock

“Come in” you hear his familiar voice say.

You are so happy your heart begins pounding in your chest. You pull the handle opening the door to his trailer. Austin stops reading and places his script on the table eyes lighting up immediately as he sees you he watches you step in and close the door behind you.

He picks you up so quickly in his strong arms lifting you into a hug. He looks handsome in a different grungy sort of way with his goatee and his biker outfit on

“I’ve missed you so much baby” he says eyes shining with excitement

“I’ve missed you too Austin“ you admit lovingly. Your arms are draped over his shoulders gift bag swinging behind him in your hands as he holds you to him squeezing his arms around your torso.

He lowers you back down and plants a kiss on your lips you tiptoe up wanting more. His eyes light up as he plants another softer longer one but it isn’t enough for you, he smells like diesel and motor oil driving you crazy.

“Austin have you been riding a motorcycle today?” Your voice almost a hush from arousal.

“Yea I did film a riding scene how did you know?” he smiles curiously.

You lean in to him just at the place under his jaw at his neck inhaling his scent again

“Mmm because you smell just like fresh motor oil” you admit and it sparks your passion for him. You trace your finger over one of his biker patches peeking up at him through your lashes

“Austin I need you” you whisper running your hand down the leather vest of his Benny costume.

He smiles bringing his hand to hold your face

“I know I need you too, but we’ll fix that later right now I was only able to request a one hour visit” he winks at you and you smile you tell yourself to be good with him in this setting.

You hand him his gift bag and he looks delighted that you thought of him and immediately digs through it taking out his favorite brand of dark chocolate first “Yes!” he says confirming the choice smiling up at you.

Then he sees the stress relief essential oils and chuckles to himself

“I hope this work”he says making you giggle. He sees his hoodie at the bottom and thanks you with a kiss. He sets the bag down on his table and unseals the dark chocolate taking a bite.

“Come in and get comfortable “ he says as he motions you in and locks the door behind you. He guides you to sit down on his brown leather couch.

You open your coat revealing your outfit as you sit, breasts on display legs crossed showing your upper thighs in the mini skirt, he pauses dumbfounded until he regains his thoughts putting his chocolate bar in the fridge and pulling out a glass jar of filtered water. He continues staring at your body as he pours you a glass and sets it on the low table in front of you.

He pulls his chair from the high table to sit across from you his legs wide apart resting in his chair wondering how he's going to stop thinking about fucking you in his trailer and just enjoy your company while he's on break.

"You look so good" he says already faltering eyes lingering on your exposed thighs in the mini skirt. You intentionally uncross your legs spreading them wide apart showing him your panties. He sits up in his chair full attention on you. He hasn't had you in so long he's craving you now.

You see his unfaltering gaze between your legs and leave the couch climbing onto his lap straddling him as you kiss him. He accepts you hugging his arms around your waist kissing you back slowly.

Your taste your smell your sounds his cock begins to swell being reminded.

"Austin I missed you so much I couldn't think straight" you say taking your lips from his.

“It was the same for me" he breaths as he caresses the nape of your neck.

He pushes his cock against you and pulls your neck to his lips kissing along your throat his tongue sliding out to taste your skin getting more aroused by your neediness for him as you grind your clothed heat back on to him.

"Just show it to me” he whispers. You stand immediately and lift your skirt pulling your panties down they cling to your wetness before you pull them all the way off placing them on the table.

You go to lay on on the couch and let him fuck you but he quickly grabs ahold of your wrist quietly laughing.

"no no I can't take you here" he says whispering "I'm at work....but l'll give you something else" his eyes stare at you daringly.

He pulls you back on to his lap with your legs spread apart pussy completely exposed to him. He pulls your skirt up to the hips looking in your eyes watching your reaction as he reaches his hand between your legs and slides his fingers back and forth on your wet pussy folds.

"Mmmmm Austin!" you cry out finally feeling his touch. He loves watching you get off, but he cups his hand on your mouth reminding you to be quiet as he continues.

"You're already so wet" he whispers. You get wet so easily for him it makes his cock start to get hard when he feels it seeping out of you. "Fuck" he whispers again and slips his long fingers all the way inside of you making you moan loudly . Even though his hand is muffling the sound against your mouth he stills his fingers inside of you.

"I want to make you cum...but if you can't be quiet I will stop ....and I don't want to stop" he says a glint of sexual deprivation in his eyes. "Are you going to be good for me and stay quiet so I can watch you cum"

You nod frantically with his hand covering your mouth wanting him to finish and fight yourself to remain quiet for him.

He begins again gently sliding his fingers in and out of you as your walls grip them tightly. Not having him in so long intensifying your pleasure making you fight the urge to moan so badly it's transcending you to another consciousness. Your face flushes pink and your body writhes against his palm beneath you as you make tiny muffled noises against his other hand cupped over your mouth.

He just stares at your beauty loving his large hand covering your mouth holding back your moans as his fingers derive pleasure out of you pushing you over the edge making you fall apart. He's feeling drunk from your arousal for him, speeding up his movements loving the feel of his fingers squeezing inside of you as his knuckles wetly smack against your entrance. He wants to enjoy his favorite sight of watching you cum for him.

You can't believe you're doing this in his trailer on set with security and staff right outside the door. It makes you want to rush and and try to cum faster your body begins tensing from anxiety as your heart races faster and he can already tell something is wrong.

"Just relax for me" he whispers, slowly removing his hand from your mouth placing it on the back of your neck holding you closer. With the hand that is fingering you he places his thumb on your clit so that with each push of his fingers inside of you his thumb glides on your clit too. It’s such a skilled move you stare at him in awe feeling the pleasure amplifying in your core as your eyes fill with worship for what hes doing to you. He just smiles at you and pulls your neck to his mouth kissing and sucking his favorite place just below your jaw

You give into him completely exhaling small whimpers as he kisses your neck and expertly fingers you into an orgasm, your panting heavily in his ear, rocking and clenching on him. As you start to climax he whispers his praises

"You've been so good for me being quiet, I want to make you cum for me now" you nod profusely feeling the tightness in your core ready to snap at any second.

He pushes his fingers up toward your naval and curls them down pulling in a “come here” motion that has you lose all resolve he fingers your gspot faster and harder until he’s rocking your entire body in his lap. You grip onto his shoulders for dear life as an extreme rush of pleasure floods your core and it snaps as you orgasm for him holding back every loud moan that tries to escape your throat.

When he removes his fingers you whimper, and spread your legs wider wanting more. It gets him so hot knowing you need a second orgasm being without him for so long. He rewards you immediately slipping his fingers back in and pressing his other hand down across your naval plunging his fingers deeper, it feels like he's squeezing the life out of you as you gasp overwhelmed with so much euphoria your vision goes blurry.

He pulls his fingers out and waits until you whimper

“Austin please” you beg, his fingers teasing just near your entrance.

“ You want more?” He whispers

“ Yes Austin Please!” you beg almost raising your voice from how much you need it. He then slips his fingers back inside of you doubling his pace watching your facial expression change as your about to cum again. He's getting off being able to finger fuck you and see you orgasm a second time for him.

When he curls his finger against your gspot while pressing his hand on your naval it makes your body constrict so tightly you can’t breathe you clench on him so hard until you feel overwhelmed and a burst of pleasure erupts in your core releasing liquid all over his fingers as he wetly pounds them between your legs. He stills his fingers when you shudder and collapse against his chest trembling, the double orgasm wrecking you.

"You came so beautifully for me " he whispers in your ear as he pets down your hair, he loved watching how he made you cum twice so much. He carefully pulls his fingers out of you fully covered in your slick. He planned to suck them but the taste of you always turns him on too much and he has to get through more scenes at work.

He decides to make you do it for him.

“Open your mouth for me I want you to taste what I cant have until later” he whispers and you suck him clean from his knuckles to his finger tips.

His lips part and pupils dilate wide watching you, it arouses him so much you feel his cock getting brick hard beneath you .

“I have to get up” he whisper's slightly panicked and you giggle leaving his lap quickly and letting him stand. “Get dressed “ he says eyeing your painties on the table.

You pull them back on as he tries to straighten himself out. The outline of his erect cock is prevalent in his jeans there’s nothing he can do to hide it.

You drop down on your knees in-front of him already undoing his belt freeing access to pull down his zipper. His body is tensing not wanting to cum at work, especially not on set, especially not in his character costume, but he doesn’t stop you hes already consumed with the thought of cumming in your mouth.

His brain starts trying to take over

“Baby I can’t do this at w…” he starts but you finally release his hard veiny cock in your hand making his body jump

“You can’t do what baby?” You ask looking up to him poised to suck his cock. He can’t resist the urge his eyes faltering looking down your top and seeing your breasts in a lace bra and your thighs exposed in the miniskirt riding up to be more like a belt. He wants in your mouth so badly he gives in

“Baby suck my cock ” he begs.

You look at his length pulsing in your hand, bigger and redder than the last time you’ve seen it. He’s been waiting to have sex with you this entire time. You feel a surge of arousal making you wetter rubbing your thighs together wanting to fuck his brains out.

You hold the base and slowly guide him in your mouth a desperate moan escapes his throat when his tip hits the back of your throat filling your mouth all the way up.

You twirl your tongue around the tip and he grips the edge of the table to keep himself steady. You love the sound of him gasping and making small whimpers above as you hollow your cheeks and begin to suck. His eyes are shut tight and he’s panting he needed you so badly

"It’s so good baby” he breaths.

You reach your hand up guiding it underneath his shirt trailing your fingers tips on his rock hard abs. He wants his release down your throat and begins gently thrusting his length in your mouth letting you know he’s ready to cum. You hold firm to his hips tracing your thumbs on the bones there knowing he’s going to go so hard when he orgasms.

He holds your hair in a makeshift pony tail ready to use your face

“You gonna swallow for me baby?” he asks through ragged breaths fucking your mouth faster. You lock eyes with him and you nod with his heavy cock in your mouth making slurping sounds as he’s ramming it in, he presses deeper and your throat clenches around his tip. “ UGHH” he cries loudly from the intense feeling.

He grips your hair harder holding your head steady to milk his cock

“Here it comes ..suck it out of me” he says making you moan on his length twirling your tongue over the head sucking hard on his tip until you hear him grunting loudly as his silky cum squirts across your palette, you relax your throat and swallow it right out of the tip of his cock

“OH FUCK” he yells loudly doubling over. He loses all his strength as you drain him completely dry and he struggles to recover. You are sure everyone outside the trailer heard him.

You release his empty cock from your mouth and catch your breath. Both of your thoughts interrupted by a harsh knock on the trailer door.

You quickly get up and adjust your clothing as Austin zips and buckles his belt checking that you are decent. He opens the door with a causal innocence

“Everything alright Mr. Butler? “ the staffer asks. Austin smiles running his hand through his hair knowing he was too loud.

“Yes just rehearsing lines” He says with a cool cadence gained from his profession as an actor.

“I’m sorry to bother you but you have 10 minutes until take. The golf cart will be here soon do you need anything else before you head back on set?” The staffer asks.

Austin looks over at you and you shake your head no “Were all good “ Austin says nodding to him as he closes the door.

He wraps you in his arms as soon as it shuts nuzzling his nose against your neck planting sweet kisses up to your ear

“You are such a naughty girl making me cum in my trailer” he whispers and you giggle “But man do I feel great now” he smiles.

“I can tell” you say affectionately.

“Yea my stress level has been through the roof … I was so distracted all the time, now I’m so clear headed I probably won’t even need as many takes today” He confesses as he holds you tighter and presses his pelvis into yours

“The fact that you’re going to watch on set today is going distract the fuck out of me, but I’ll probably get my best takes ever thinking about how I get to strip you out of this outfit when I get to the apartment later” He says tracing his fingertip along the lace of your bra peeking out of your top, he takes a hold your jaw tilting your face up and gently kisses your lips in appreciation. He’s so much sexier after you make him cum.

He takes your hand and pushes the trailer door open leading you outside just as the golf cart arrives you both hop in and take a seat behind the driver. He peeks over at you once you’re both settled and smirks watching you smiling dreamily staring off in to space without a care in the world from the orgasms he gave you. He puts. his arm around you pulling you closer enjoying having you back with him again.

You are just lost in bliss daydreaming about the ways he made you cum in his trailer and how he’s going to have his way with you so many more times over the weekend in the apartment . You place your hand on his thigh and squeeze it in anticipation, ready to go see him professionally work hard on set this time.

END

Masterlist

[rain-day-today]

One thing that really rots my brain is the idea of the guild during the og baby fairytail members time and the domesticity of it. Cause like no way was gramps letting a bunch of super powered ( and incredibly destructive) 7-14year olds out of his sight.

Just imagine:

Little Natsu and emo teen Laxus having breakfast while very quietly whispering about their respective hoards collections of cat theme things ( I KNOW LAXUS IS A SECRET CAT LOVER I JUST KNOW IT)

Tiny Gray having an emo phase. Mira (a punk 14 year old) helping him out (after teasing him of course). The two spending many hours and lots of jewel to find and look through dozens of fashion magazines. Eventually falling asleep sprawled on the floor in a nest of semi-laminated paper.

Tween Lissana and levy giggling over the kissy scenes in books and Erza overhearing them. Spitting out her cake into Laxus’s face which makes them burst out into full on cackling.

Little Cana teaching natsu to make card pyramids for 3 hours and when he finally gets it, Elfman knocks it over. Every one thinks Natsu is going to punch someone, but he doesn’t, instead he starts full on bawling. Nobody knows what to do. Little Natsu cannot be comforted. Levy shuts him up by shoving candy into his mouth while cana really quickly rebuilds the pyramid.

Erza and Mira having a dance off on some of the tables ( mira breaks 3 of them in half with her stomping, Erza somehow stabs one). This is how everyone finds out to never take either of them to parties cause they dance like the deaf baby of giraffes and a buffalo.

Gray and climbing a tree to the very top and forgetting that he doesn’t know how to get down? He stays there till the next morning and seethes for the next week cause LISSANA had to carry him down.

Natsu following Gray around like a lost puppy his first week cause “he’s friend sized” and what else was he supposed to do? He knows nothing! Dudes not even from this time period. At least if he follows loud stripper he knows he wont get run over by a car. Gray not noticing or caring that he is being followed cause little guy has his own problems to deal with and “as long as he doesn’t take my food or breath on me.”

Cana having a plague doctor mask that elfman bought for her 13th birthday. She wears it to scare the shit out of everyone at the sleepovers.

Weekly “sleepovers” in the guildhall because it’s easier to do gramps weekly count of them when they are all lined up in their my little pony sleeping bags (yes this includes laxus and mira)

When Romeo is born they have a guild wide contest on whose name he says first (the answer is his own cause the little dude is a true fairytail wizard)

Levy managing to give everyone a heart attack after casually admitting that she hasn’t slept or ate anything but crackers and coffee cause she was trying to teach herself the equivalent of ancient greek.

Laxus and gray not knowing how to hold a baby (romeo)

Natsu “teething” on Erza. Everyone stares in shock cause there’s just Erza sitting there stone faced in full armor while Natsu chops down on her arm like he has rabies. ( he still bites her even when they’re older if he’s really stressed)

Everyone having a default crush on laxus or Mira

The guild kids try to make homemade shaved ice with grays ice and end up covering the entire town with really weird ice sculptures

Mira scaring the shit out of kids with her demon souls during Halloween

Someone stealing Mira or Natsu’s food and ending up with a burn on their tounge followed by natsu trying to “kiss it better”

Levy dozing off on the rafters and falling down onto poor elfman

Spin the bottle but instead of kissing you fight (grays idea)

Laxus has a spray bottle filled with water mixed with really bad smelling cologne that he uses to spray people when they’re bad, like cats.

No one in the guild knew how to swim until they turned 16 Lissana still can’t swim.

Its really really common to see elfman or gray duck-taped to the wall (its levy who does it)

Dont fall asleep around teen Mira she will draw titties on your face. (Where do you think natsu got it from?)

They all took a living 101 class when lissana was 13. It failed miserably. Laxus ended up being the grandfather to 6 rats and 3 hamsters

Laxus takes Lissana and Elfman out for brunch once a month because it pisses mira off to no end.

Levy, Lissana, and Laxus accidentally forming an L name club and plan their “meetings” within earshot of Mira and Erza to make them jealous.

“We should get cookies!”-levy

“And ice cream!”- lissana

“(Super smug face) im craving strawberry cake.”-laxus

*sounds of Erza bursting into flames of jealousy*

[yaut-jaknowit]

Challenge Day

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 4039

Summary: After a night of rest, We'ar-ow drags you around her quarters. From a bath to rid yourself of that male's smell to getting food in your stomach, she ensures you taken care of. Rough in treatment, you are confused on what to feel. It doesn't matter. We'ar-ow takes you to the last place you want to be.

Author Note: Little warning, tiny bit of graphic content. Just bone breaking. I'm so glad everyone is loving on her. I'm planning of writing more for her and have a small plan drawn up already.

Ao3

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17

A yawn broke your neutral expression. It was hard. To keep a façade up and hold back your anger for the situation. This was humiliating! This… why did everything have to change? Why so sudden? If you release your anger, said one wrong thing to We’ar-ow, you would think yourself dead. Said Yautja had rudely awaken you. It felt like you gained no sleep after waking up.

Coarse fingers wrapped around your wrist and pulled you from the room. At this point, you realized… We’ar-ow was speaking. Her deep, throaty voice was hard to understand in the first place. When your brain has barely had time to comprehend all that has happened just this morning, there was no room to understand what the Monarch was saying.

With a free hand, you rubbed at the crust in your eyes. Huh, must have cried in your sleep or something. Now, you were finally able to fully see where she was dragging you. Across the strange living room and towards a door you just realize existed. The metal door slides to the side to reveal a massive room.

No time was given to you. She had you by the arm and forced you into the bathroom attached to the bedroom. Almost similar to your ex-mate’s bathroom, the only true difference was color and size. The tub could easily hold four female Yautjas without discomfort. This is when you realized the tub was full and steaming water.

Worst than before, you were giving absolutely not time to reaction as the clothes you wore were shredded. Your mind didn’t have time to even produce a yelp as We’ar-ow shoved you into the in ground tub. Your arms batted the water in a frenzied panic at first. You surged through the surface to gasp for air.

Almost instantly, you whipped your head to glare daggers at her before the logical side of your mind stepped up. Shit. You became submissive, ready for her to punish you. But nothing, no words or hits came. You peeked your head up to find an amused expression painting her face. It took a lot not to scoff. Instead, you simmered down into the water to hide everything below your neck. You didn’t want her to see more than you could control.

This earned a chuff. We’ar-ow shook her head. “Oomans,” was muttered underneath her breath. She kept guard though, eyes not leaving your form. The gaze caused your skin to crawl. You stayed slightly crouched down, eyes focused on the water, while not moving.

A crackly scoffed broke the silence. “Wash.” Your brows crunched the skin between them. What? How? You turned your head this and that way. Just water. Nothing to wash yourself with. What did she expect to use?

“Did the buffoon teach you nothing? I will take great pleasure besting him today. Maybe I will take his head as well, hang it in your new room, pet.” We’ar-ow took the necessary steps forward till her toes hung over the edge of the in ground tub. Her knees bent to a crouch. The salmon pink Yautja used a hand to scoop water and poured it over your head.

Almost… intimate. An action your ex-mate could do in the privacy of the community showers when time allowed it. “The water will cleanse your skin, wash away that Paya-awful male’s scent from you. Wash,” she commanded once more. Now, you understood truly what she expected from you.

You mirrored her actions from before and let water run down my head. Then, your eyes flicked up to hers. Was that good enough? “More.” Nope. You sighed before gaining a great idea. You dunked yourself fully under the surface then waited a few seconds. Once you felt it was enough, you broke the surface again, albeit this time calmer, and glanced up. She nodded.

Good. As you about to move to slip out of the tub, you realized something. There wasn’t anything to cover up with. She had already embarrassed you enough by ripping off your clothing then throwing you in here! Anger simmered in your boiling blood. All of this far too overwhelming to deal with and no given time to comprehend the situation.

All of this was just humiliating to say in the least. You swallowed what leftover pride you could hold onto and peered up at her. “I need a-a towel,” you requested, eyes flickering around her form and looking everything besides her.

The Yautja was still crouched down, nowhere near your level, but close by. Without any pretense, a pink hand grasped at your bicep and hauled you out of the water. You yelped and struggled against her hold, legs and arms flailing wildly. We’ar-ow pinned your back swiftly to her chest, loose hand coming to firm encase your neck.

Untamed attempts to break free from her were thwarted the moment her hand held your life. One squeeze could end it all. She felt the way your throated bobbed with a heavy swallow. She was back to her full height now. The Yautja slightly bent forward to further press herself into your backside. “Good pet.” She took full pleasure in your reaction. Fuck.

From the tops of your vision, you see her pink, split tongue skirt over her lower jaw. “Better,” is all she says before she removes herself from your backside. That’s when you realized you’ve been holding your breath the entire time. It rushed out of you in one big breath.

A hand fixated itself on your bicep before tugging you along. All you could do was listen… like a good pet. She brought you over to a spot in the bathroom before releasing her hold then pushing a button on the wall. Warm gushes of air dried the water from your skin, pleasantly warm. All drops of water officially removed from your previously damp skin.

Surprises morphs over your face. Your ex-mate didn’t have this but being the Monarch of the ship gave you special privileges, you guessed. The shock was allowed to simmer. We’ar-ow held onto your bicep once more and practically dragged you over to her bedroom of sorts. Clothes were pulled onto your body without another word. She shoved you out.

Out the room you had been in, into a massive living room, and towards a kitchen. Scents of food, good food wafted up into your nose. Not only were you starving, you were dying for water. Your throat ached, scratchy and dry. It left you with a headache that pushed at the back of your eyes.

The Monarch was none-the-gentler as she pushed into the bar stool too big for you. You catch yourself on the counter’s edge with not a second to waste. “Consume,” the voice you’re coming to learn barked. Then, she was off, marching towards a room towards the opposite of the front door. The same room we just came from.

On the verge of glaring at her, you grunted lowly and plopped your behind down on the stool. That’s when you realized why she had said ‘consume’ earlier, and where that delicious smell was coming from.

Before you sat a plate of steaming food, food that you didn’t begin to understand what it was made from. Instantly, your stomach growled painfully. A heady reminder. You glanced over to the door We’ar-ow left through. It was closed. You couldn’t hear anything from this far away. But she was gone, out of sight.

You were finally able to take your first full breath without any anxiety to squeeze the air out of your lungs. Yet, in the back of your mind, you knew your guard couldn’t be put down. Not now, not ever. Then, you focused on the food. Nothing smelled off about it, nothing gave you any bad vibes about it. And, We’ar-ow hasn’t given you a reason not to trust her. But, this is the Monarch we are talking about. Someone you don’t know. You scowled but your stomach snarled with a hungry roar. Pain cramped through your abdomen. You’ve never been this hungry before. Your ex-mate never let you go without a meal once a day.

By God’s grace, you were starting to become dizzy from dehydration. You smacked your lips together. A clear glass of see-through liquid was just sitting there. Once more nothing seemingly wrong with it. How could you know though? You weren’t like these guys. You had no great senses that allowed you to smell things miles away or hearing that alerted you in the same fashion. A sigh sounded from your lips.

Fuck it. You grabbed the glass and gulped down the entire thing within seconds. A bunch of air sucked in as well which caused you to burp… quiet loudly as well whoops. Your head whipped over to the door mentioned before. No movement or sounds. Good.

Back to the plate. With a finger, you nudged the things that looked like meat. It was warm. Cooked. Your eyebrows jumped with surprise. What. Something in your chest warmed with a familiar heat. You were swift at stomping it out before it had a chance to grow. Fine. That was… nice of her to do that. You picked up the slab of cooked meat and tore a chunk from it. It was still quite warm in your hands, almost unbearable. You held up the smaller chunk to your nose and sniffed it.

To be honest, it smelled glorious. So well, flavored and thoroughly cooked. You couldn’t helped the tiniest of smiles to grace your clean face. Finally, you placed it into your mouth and chewed. From the lack of food for a day, you hummed with delight. Delicious.

Before long, you had the entire plate cleared of food. You couldn’t know when your next meal would be. You didn’t know how the Monarch will… take care of you. Everything had been flipped on its head and you didn’t know what’s going to happen. You slumped in your chair, doing everything in your body not to just sob again. Defeated.

Warm fingers pinched your chin harshly and pulled your body up, almost lifting you off of the chair. Your hands went to wrap around a pink wrist, eyes darting up to find We’ar-ow. A gasp tore at your throat. Fear flooded your body, eyes clenched shut, ready for her to just snap your neck… but that never happens.

“Head up, spine straight. Don’t coward like prey. You are my pet. My pet won’t be prey,” she ordered and kept your head up, level, like the way she told you before. You cracked open an eye. We’ar-ow is still looking at you with her orange piercing gaze. She leaned in closer than she’s ever before, spilt tongue tasting the air. The Monarch dipped her head in approval. “Better, but I will get rid of that male’s smell later. I have an important meeting to attend. Do you know what it is?”

Curses flew around your mind. Why did she have to talk with you or ask you questions that made you have to answer? You lowered your gaze then shook your head softly. She pinched your chin harder. “When I address you, answer, my pet.”

A pregnant pause filled the air before you took in a deep breath. “No,” your voice quiet in the kitchen, eyes anywhere besides her body. We’ar-ow lumbered closer, a mandible lifting.

“That male who dishonored you, my new pet. He’ll face me in a challenge. He will lose. He will. You are mine. And I will keep you.” You couldn’t help but shiver at her tone. It was like she was a hundred percent certain your ex-mate will not win against her. In all honesty, a large part of your mind said she was correct. Her confidence bled over to you, contagious like a cold.

You wanted nothing more to blurt out the same question as before: ‘why?’ But you believed she would answer the same way. Instead, you held your tongue.

“You’re coming with me. First though-“ We’ar-ow stepped back to put space between the two of you, hand slipping from your chin. “You need to look like my pet. Come.” We’ar-ow turned her body in the direction of the original room she left through. Yet, you froze, stuck in place, not daring to follow her.

She notices this but doesn’t stop. Only a hand came to wave you along. “Don’t make me tell you twice.” Despite the voice being low and grumbly, it wasn’t harsh, just a general commanding her battalion. A tone you listened to, fearing what would happen if you didn’t. Your head bowed as you hopped off of the chair. But the plate… It would be rude and disrespectful to leave it behind.

“Leave it.” Okay, that answers that. You jumped at her sudden voice then scrambled after her. All the while, you kept a heady space behind her.

The door opened up to her presence. It was on the verge of closing until you got closer. You stopped at the entrance to stare into the room.

Holy. Shit. You couldn’t believe how big it was in here. Gracious, highly decorated, skulls, furs, and bones. A hunter, through and through.

Some of the skulls, five to be exact, were… human. You shuttered. Your ex-mate was kind enough to hide away the ones he collected when you reacted, well, horribly. It was a reasonable way to act when you see your own kind’s skull mounted on someone you loved’s wall. You shuttered, body tensing, ready to bolt in pure panic.

We’ar-ow turned around to face you, a bored look on her face. “You done?” It was like she was expecting you to react this way. Something inside of you curled into a ball at the knowledge. “Follow.” We’ar-ow motions you to follow deeper into this… this hell hole, this nightmare filled room. A place that bones of your species decorated the walls. You rapidly shook your head side to side, feet taking a step back to bolt.

The Monarch wasn’t letting you go. A hand wrapped around your throat and lifted you enough to be on your toes. Your bare feet scrapped for hope to stand on something. But she keeps you like this and brings you close. “My pet does not run! My pet stands to face the fear and danger. I will have to train you, unlike that measly male. He did nothing, didn’t he?”

Through the blood rushing violently in your ears, you desperately nodded your head. Any way to convince her to drop you. All you could think about is her snapping your neck. She’s the Monarch. She didn’t have to give a reason on why. Plus, you were her pet.

“Words.”

“Yes! Yes, he-he did nothing.” An alien smirk graced her face again. Her hold on you released. You landed unsteadily on your feet and snapped your head up at the Monarch. She stared down at you, looking over her upper mandibles.

Before a chance to think was given, We’ar-ow turned around and gracefully crossed the room over to the open concept bathroom. Almost similar to your ex-mate’s room, the only true difference was color and size. The tub could easily hold four female Yautjas without discomfort. Her hand swiped at something from the sink and she marched back towards you.

The Yautja towered, truly you meant that, over you but she doesn’t kneel down to get a better view. Instead, We’ar-ow sat down on her haunches. It helped a ton. Yet, she was still a good head taller than you. Without missing a beat, whatever in her hands was transferred to your head. Warm metal skirted around your head, beads falling down to tap against your cheeks. It tickled at first but you stayed still as the female fussed.

After a solid minute, she dipped her head and stood abruptly. “It will have to do,” she stated and continued to peer down at you over her mandibles. For a moment, your mind supplied she was wanting something from you. Words.

“T-thank you,” you offered your appreciation. Honestly, you did value the fact on your second day here, the Monarch has gifted something to you. A deeper part of yourself felt horribly guilty. From your limited knowledge of their culture, females don’t gift things. That’s the job of the male, to woo over any mates for the season.

That appreciation was thrown back in your face. We’ar-ow scoffed then huffed. You flinched, hands and shoulders drawn. A hand engulfed your neck once more. This time, much gentler. Her thumb and claw stroked up the side of your throat… right over an artery. One move, meant or not, could end your life swiftly.

Her mandibles clicked in thought, but nothing the translator picked up. Then, the warmth was gone and her massive form glided around you. She headed towards the door with purpose. Like a lost puppy, you scrambled after her.

This would be a good step forward. Maybe it be in the right direction or not, you don’t know. We’ar-ow didn’t look back once as she guided you through the door of her room, down the elevator, or through the halls. Every step this hunk of muscle took was prideful but not in an egotistical way. Here you were, a meek human doing everything in your power to keep up without looking like a fool. At least your ex-mate slowed partially down for you. She did not care.

With the pace she led, the pair had made it to the designation in her mind quickly. You realized where this was. The sparring room. Many males were already on the mats, proving their worth in a fight. That’s when you smelled the heavy scent of pheromones. Overwhelming and shoved straight into your face. Your mind couldn’t decide if the feeling it caused was good or bad.

When the Monarch entered the room, all those who were in her presence stopped. Males who were fighting tooth and nail ripped away from each other to bow respectfully. Green blood making the mats slick for them. You trotted up to We’ar-ow to stand a couple of feet behind her.

Before you had a chance to get a step closer, a blur of orange raced across your vision. Pink entered the very next second. Your brain stuttered to comprehend all you just witnessed. To your right, the Monarch held a near bone breaking grip on an orange male’s wrist. Now, it caught up to you. The male was going to grab you.

Despite seeing the tension in We’ar-ow’s body, her face was neutral as she stared down at the meek, young male. No words were needed as she calmly snapped his forearm. You slapped a hand over your mouth before any noises could escape. Even though in the past, you’ve seen the brutality that made up the Yautjas at their core. To see it happen less than a foot away from you… to hear how his bones just splintered by this female. Your stomach felt queasy at the sight.

Like it never happened, We’ar-ow faced the majority of the crowd, eyes scanning carefully through the crowd. All eyes on the Monarch. Even other females watched her with rapture, as if waiting for We’ar-ow to do something.

That’s when you felt a burning gaze so familiar. Your shoulder scrunched up to hide away, as if that was possible. You didn’t even dare to look in that general direction. Your heart pounded like a hammer. Creeping, crawling feelings snaked up your spine to settled in the middle of your chest. Echoes of his words rang back like a broken record.

“Dwainet,” the Monarch’s voice rung out like a church bell. The room seemed to still at the call of him. No one dared to speak, let alone whisper their rumors. You slowly picked up your head now, to find his eyes looking at We’ar-ow. Fear. Fear in those eyes you used to peer into.

You don’t know why but the tiniest of a proudful grins raced over your face. To see the alien that broke your heart then smashed on it right in front of you almost wet himself made you almost grin. This must not be usual for the Monarch to call out a male. Or the look on her face was deadly. You couldn’t see what she looked like from behind her. You didn’t dare peek either.

We’ar-ow raised a hand. With a single finger, she called the Yautja to step up. From your spot, it looked like it took all of Dwainet’s will to take a step forward. Let alone the rest to stop a respectful distance from her. His eyes were no longer on her anymore, but they hadn’t settled on you either. The fright in his system the only thing driving him.

The Monarch began to circle around the small male, looking him over. Each step was strategical, purposefully placed. Dwainet stood there, stiller than a statue as the female looked him over. Despite this being mating season, the look in his eye told you he knew that’s not what this was about.

When she was behind him, Dwainet sent a deadly glare down at your pathetic form. Your chest tightened. Shit. Your whole body froze as he silently glowered. Nothing in your body would listen. All of your muscles tensed, ready to spring but not moving.

Nothing left We’ar-ow’s vision. She noticed the way you tensed once behind Dwainet. If it wasn’t for your gaze stuck on him, she would’ve believed it was due to her about to best the male. Instead, We’ar-ow snatched a handful of tresses and yanked him back. All of his attention returned to her. She watched as his face morphed from the intense pain of his tresses being roughly handled.

“I challenge you, Dwainet. When I win, your pet will be mine,” We’ar-ow laid out her plans in front of the male. You watched as his eyes widened, the way his spine tensed.

Harsh whispers rolled over the large group in the sparring room. The translator that sat behind your ear did nothing, unable to pick up a single word. All you could do was glance around the room to read people’s faces the best you could. If only you could hide away when many eyes were on you. You were the center of attention now, no longer ignored as a meek pet.

Dwainet made a noise similar to choking on air. “You can have it!” he gave in so easily. Your stiff posture immediately deflated like a balloon. ‘It.’ He called you an it. The fractured pieces that still held on officially fell away to the darkness.

In a fit of unchanneled rage, you marched over to the restrained male and used a hand to yank on his only lower mandible. We’ar-ow allowed him to be moved by you, still holding onto him firmly. She couldn’t help the sliver of a smirk gracing her mandibles at the sight.

“You will fight her. You will lose. You will be left to wallow in your failure, alone!” you spat, voice gaining volume with each word till your voice echoed in the sparring room. Blood rushing through your ears and heart pounding are all you hear for a few long moments.

All you’ve done came rushing back. Before having a chance to fret over the situation, We’ar-ow hauled the male away from you to the nearest mat. The two males that occupied it were swift in their retreat and stood at the sidelines now.

Some Yautjas held smirks on their face as they watched. Others couldn’t look away from you. The rest just watched in rapture at the sight before. Something they’ve never seen before. The Monarch fighting for claim on a pet. While said pet, yourself, just stood at the edge of the mat. Yautjas crowded you from behind, not too close though. Their bodies creating a wall of muscles and bone, not letting you take a single step away. Shit. You were trapped to watch the brutality of a female that wants you. The Monarch wants you.

But your heart was far too guarded now.

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17

[glasscitadel]

Desert Ibaxi

"An uncommon species native to Alexei's home planet, the ibaxi is a fierce and cunning predator known for its ability to bellow, burying itself into sand to lie in wait for scavengers to mistake its bony back and fleshy protrusions for an uncleaned corpse."

Here's the "I ain't reading all that" part <3

Alexei claimed this shift at 11 years old and frequents it for comfort :>

Age Average: 28y

Adult Weight Average: 95-120lbs

Height Average: 32-36 inches

Planet of Origin: Signa 32A

Conservation Status: Vulnerable

Temperament:

Aggressive

Protective

Cautious

While other unique variations of the ibaxi species are also found scattered primarily across the northern hemisphere of the planet where the suns' concentration are highest, the ones that thrive in the deepest areas of the desert are the most uncommon and the most feared.

Domestication of this specific breed has been long since abandoned and highly discouraged due to their wildly aggressive nature, but it's still surprisingly common to hear of trainer deaths as a result of eclectic animal collectors' desire to own them. Otherwise, this desert breed is protected as a wild variant, and anyone smart knows to leave them alone.

While their primary strategy is defensive, luring their prey to them, they are still very capable of hunting, which they actively do individually in the early hours just before the suns when the desert is coolest and small prey forage.

Their nostrils close while buried under sand, and they then breathe through the holes along their necks and backs, which push out a noxious gas that very accurately smells like baking decay. The protruding spines resemble picked at remains (that may appear fleshy and gross, but act much more like cartilage and feel pleasantly smooth to the touch), the perfect combination of smell and sight to trick scavengers into coming closer for a nibble.

If those curious and with good eyesight become wiser the closer they approach, the released smell is overwhelmingly enough effective to convince them there's no danger.

Chasing speeds average about 35mph (57km/h) and can reach up to 50mph (80km/h) in short bursts, with quick turns and reflexes. When in the need to cool down, the scaled ridges along their forehead, upper back, and tail will part to reveal sensitive tissue that rapidly shed body heat. In the afternoon, once the suns have firmly settled and the day is at its hottest, packs will gather to try and secure their big meal for the day if there was little individual morning luck. Proceeding finding areas with recently cleaned kills, they bury themselves among the bone remains and wait for unsuspecting scavengers.

Their growls are much less dog-like and more closely resemble the bellowing tremors of alligators (though not as extreme, and not limited to males), and work the same way, allowing them to shake and displace the sand around them while they lie to quickly burrow and hide. When large packs gather and bellow together, the sound and vibrations can be heard and felt for nearly half a mile, terrifying and alarming to anyone or anything close-by.

In the case of territory breach, bellows are an effective communication tool to determine power and age. Those in their prime, large in size, and leaders of packs have the deepest, most guttural voices, able to intimidate away their competition from a considerable distance.

As ibaxi age, their lungs lose the elasticity needed to bellow deeply enough to bury, and instead will stay within their territory sleeping grounds and wait for the pack to bring back food.

Pack sizes have been recorded to reach up to 20 members, but most are not seen with more than 16, with typically 3-5 of those elders.

Pups are born no more than two at a time and are not able to bury themselves until they reach adolescence when their lungs fully develop, so mothers will bellow gently close to them in their dens to sink them before heading out to hunt.

So if you come across what looks like an abandoned den with a few bones left in it and a very awful smell, you may want to hit the road before the momma returns... if the stay-at-home grandparents haven't gotten to you yet.

[maream2636]

2024.8.7

I made a detailed plan for my day the night before, and it was a good day. I got an evaluation of my day 13 out of 16. It was a productive day. I will adopt this method, as it makes me aware of what is happening and what I am doing, and as long as I continue to mark it as true or false.

So what i did:

1. Do a morning routine (for the skin, facial exercises, drinking vitamins, and drinking lemon).

2. Doing Pilates (it seems simple, but it is painful. I am still new. I was relying on cardio exercises, which turned out to be a mistake)

3. I made myself a healthy breakfast (I was eating cake and tea, which was making me sluggish and unproductive. Don’t underestimate breakfast!)

4. I studied the first file of mathematical principles (I divided it into parts, but it turned out that this method did not suit me)

5. I studied half the second file of pharmaceutical accounts (when I face something I don’t understand, my mind starts to wander, and this is a problem..)

6.Drink four bottles of water (women need 2.7 liters, and each bottle I have contains 500 milliliters).

The mistakes I made:

•My comprehension is high in the morning, but I woke up late and also did less important things in the morning, so tomorrow I will correct that.

•I slept in the afternoon and it was the worst decision. I woke up in pain and feeling dizzy and had to drink coffee, which kept me very awake instead of sleeping now!

[macbethsymphony]

The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 19

Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Chapter wc: 4.8k

Chapter rating: SFW

Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, Eventual smut

Summary: Your skills as a blacksmith have made you desirable to both the government and pirates. You know you have to leave this island if you want to escape your fate, but that doesn't make the choice of leaving any easier. Roronoa Zoro is intrigued by your skills as a blacksmith. Your work is like nothing he's ever seen before. Unfortunately, you're hot-headed and he's rude and you both definitely hate each other.

Chapters [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17][18]

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3 Feel like binging the rest of it? it's all there!

Chapter 19: A Different Approach

The next morning was not kind to you. As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the windows of the crow's nest, you stirred from your restless sleep, feeling the weight of a pounding headache and the persistent haze of alcohol-induced drowsiness. 

You groaned in protest at the sun, trying to block out the light in your eyes with the improvised pillow you’d made with training mats. The events of the previous night slowly flooded back into your consciousness, a wave of fragmented memories crashing against the shores of your mind. Amidst the fog, the taste of the swordsman's lips lingered on your own, salt and whiskey, a sweet reminder of the intimacy shared under the moonlight. Your cheeks heated intensely. 

Oh gods, you needed to stop drinking so much. 

With a feeble attempt to ease the throbbing in your skull, you pushed yourself in a sitting position, the movement sending a surge of dizziness washing over you. It took a moment for your surroundings to come back into focus, the familiar sight of the makeshift gym greeting you in quiet serenity. 

You considered getting up for a split second but decided against so, instead leaning back on the wall with a heavy sigh. You closed your eyes, the tips of your fingers going to your outer thigh, lazily recreating the exploration of the swordsman’s hands in a daze. Your heart skipped a beat, a shiver passed your shoulders, you let the rear of your head painfully hit the wood behind you. 

Fuck. 

You were down bad.

The trapdoor grated open. You didn’t move. You heard the familiar pace of Zoro’s steps against the floor. From what you could make, he stopped not too far from you.

An amused snort escaped him. 

Your eyes creaked open slightly, looking up at him. Goodness, he was stunning. The morning’s gentle rays caressed his features, casting them in a soft, ethereal glow. The rare curve of his lips into a smile was mesmerizing, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. Even the metal of his earrings appeared to dance in the warmth of the light, their delicate glint adding to his undeniable allure. 

“Still alive?” he asked, crouching down so your eyes were at a similar level. 

“I think I might be dying, actually,” you answered, voice rough and catching against the dryness of your throat. 

He chuckled at your overdramatic statement. “You do look like shit,” he commented looking you over none too subtly. 

You scoffed in mock indignation. “I don’t want to hear that from someone who doesn’t even shower once a week," you retorted gesturing to him with a lazy movement of your head. 

He shrugged nonchalantly, your jab not bothering him in the slightest. 

You met his gaze in a quiet exchange, searching for any hint of anger or regret. Yet, all you found was his usual stoic demeanor reflected back at you, his expression betraying nothing. Your eyes traveled against his face, settling on his lips. Memories flooded your mind, his grasp in your hair, his smirk against your lips as you complied with his every demand. And then, as if sensing your thoughts, a knowing grin spread across his features, his eye twinkling with what you could only decipher as satisfaction. 

Embarrassment overcame you at the realization that he could read you like an open book. You quickly averted your gaze, hoping to hide the crimson on your cheeks that threatened to betray your inner turmoil. 

“Anyway,” you squeaked. “You got any water?” 

The swordsman’s grin widened at your deflection, but he played along nonetheless. He extracted a flask from under his overcoat. You snagged it with unsteady hands, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip. Almost immediately, you halted on the contents, the harsh burn of alcohol catching you off guard. 

"Sake?!" you exclaimed incredulously, eyes meeting his again in shock, wincing as you tried not to choke. "The sun's barely up.” 

Zoro chuckled at your reaction, his smile unwavering as he watched your struggle. "Morning’s as good a time as any for a drink," he remarked casually, his tone betraying no hint of remorse. 

“Fuck swordsman, you’ve got a problem,” You managed to croak in-between soft coughs, handing him back the flask none too gently. 

His fingers lingered against yours as he took it back, a subtle touch that sent heat to your core. His gaze held yours for a moment longer, a silent exchange passing between you before he stood up. 

"Zoro," you said, his name feeling unfamiliar and weighty on your lips.

He glanced down at you, a hint of curiosity glinting in his eye. "What is it?" he asked after your silence prolonged. 

You hesitated, grappling for the right words amidst the tumult within yourself. "About last night..." you began, trailing off as you struggled to articulate your thoughts. 

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "What about last night?" he inquired, his features dripping with self-satisfaction. 

Frustration simmered within you, the prickling sensation of annoyance bubbling beneath the surface. "You know what I mean, swordsman," you replied with exasperation. 

He tilted his head slightly, a playful glint dancing in his eye. "Do I?" he teased. 

A impatient sigh escaped you, the tension mounting with each passing moment. Rising to meet his stance, you looked at him with defiance. "Cut the crap, you know exactly what I'm talking about," you insisted, your tone firm. 

He laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet space between you. In the face of his entertainment, you hesitated, uncertainty creeping into your expression as his chuckles subsided. 

Your gaze fell to the floor. Without the brazenness that came with intoxication, embarrassment flooded your senses. "You know what?" you said in a small, panicked squeak. "Forget it." 

He sighed. 

“Oi,” he called out to you. 

When you didn’t move your head, he crouched back down, looking up to meet your eyes. As his gaze locked with yours, the weight of his stare made your heart flutter, your knees weaken. Your name crossed his lips in a soft whisper, the sound foreign and demanding of attention. "I don't do things I'll regret," he stated simply before rising to his feet and turning to the trapdoor. 

You stood in disbelief for a moment, processing his words. All of a sudden, you scrambled, picking up the cursed dagger from the floor in a hurry as you snapped back to reality.

“Hey,” you shouted after him. “Wait, where are you going?” You asked as you followed him down the ladder. “You can’t just say that and leave.”

“Training,” He answered simply from below, entirely ignoring the latter part of your comment. 

As your feet hit the wooden deck, you watched him walk away in stunned wordlessness. The cool morning air did little to alleviate the heat coloring your cheeks. Gazing out to the horizon, you squinted against the glare of the rising sun. The golden sliver took you by surprise. It was far earlier than you’d expected. The ship lay silent and deserted, a stark contrast to the bustling activity it would soon host. Most of the crew, you assumed, still slumbered in the embrace of their beds.

A parched sensation clawed at your throat, urging you in search of relief. Water. You needed water urgently. With a resolute stride, you crossed the length of the Sunny, headed for the galley, the determination evident in each purposeful step.

You hadn't anticipated anyone else being awake at this early hour, perhaps aside from Sanji. However, you were taken aback to find both Nami and Robin already up and about. The two women were seated at the table, engrossed in a hushed exchange. Nami meticulously pored over intricate navigation charts, while Robin delved into the pages of a book.

A delightful aroma wafted through the air, emanating from the oven where something delicious was clearly baking. Its sweet scent tantalized your senses, yet the chef was nowhere in sight.

Nami quirked an eyebrow in amusement as she watched you make a beeline for the sink, the sound of running water punctuating the quiet atmosphere. "Good morning to you too," she teased, her tone laced with playful sarcasm.

You offered a sheepish smile in response, your lips curling upwards despite the persistent ache in your head. "Morning," you managed to murmur, your voice rough as you filled a glass with cool water.

Meanwhile, Robin's words cut through the tranquility of the moment, catching you off guard as you took a gulp from the glass. "You didn’t sleep in our room yesterday," she observed casually, her gaze still fixed on the book she held in her hands.

The unexpected remark hit you like a sudden gust of wind, causing you to choke on your drink. Water menaced painfully to flood your lungs, and the implications in the tone of the archeologist's statement sent a jolt of embarrassment coursing through you, your mind scrambling to come up with a suitable response.

Struggling to regain your composure, you hastily wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, attempting to conceal the nervousness that threatened to sell you out. "I, uh, ended up crashing in the crow's nest last night," you stammered, your voice quivering slightly as you sought to sound nonchalant.

Nami's eyebrows shot up even higher than before, her expression betraying the flow of her thoughts. "In the crow's nest, huh?" she echoed, a mischievous twinkle dancing in her eyes. "Sounds cozy."

Heat flooded your cheeks as you fumbled for a response, acutely aware of the implications in her tone. Your brain couldn’t help but bring up the sensation of his nails digging into soft flesh, of his grip tightening in your hair. A shiver went down your spine. “Just passed out there,” you answered, your voice squeaky.

A hand popped out of the table in front of the navigator. Nami tsked in annoyance, digging out Berry from her back pocket and placing a handful of notes in the waiting palm.

“Thank you,” Robin said with satisfaction, the fingers counting casually the amount while her eyes were still glued to her book. She suddenly smiled, folding the stack of notes and pocketing them. “In any case, we’re glad to see you’re alright. For a moment last night, we were worried you’d taken an unexpected dip overboard.”

You watched the exchange in disbelief, blood draining from your face. “What was that?” You couldn’t help but ask, ignoring the archeologist’s comment entirely. “What did you guys bet on?”

Nami’s smirk widened. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she mused with glee. “Don’t worry, it was just a friendly wager.”

"It's not what you think," you protested, your words tumbling out in a hurried jumble. "We were just... talking."

"We?" Nami questioned with a knowing arch of her eyebrow.

Robin's gaze met yours, closing her book with a soft thud. "Talking... Is that what kids are calling it these days?" she teased, a playful glint dancing in her eyes.

As if on cue, Sanji kicked the door open, Zoro not too far behind, their arrival far from subtle. Crates in hand, they burst in with the energy of a brewing storm.

"Hurry up," Sanji barked at the swordsman, impatience evident in his tone. "These are just the start."

Zoro grunted in annoyance, dropping the crates onto the floor without much care. "Why don’t you do your own heavy lifting, you shitty cook," he shot back, his voice tinged with irritation, following him nonetheless.

Sanji's eyebrow twitched, his grip on his cigarette tightening as he took a long drag. "What did you say, moss head?"

Your cheeks flushed under the assessing gazes of Nami and Robin, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you.

Zoro abruptly halted in his tracks, the cook forgotten as he looked at you. His eye narrowed as he surveyed the scene before him. "What's going on?" he demanded, his steely gaze darting between you and the two women.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly, looking down and getting lost in the suddenly interesting glass in your hands.

Nami’s smirk turned into a grin, her eyes sparkling with something that was almost evil as she leaned back into her chair. “Oh, we were just discussing last night’s sleeping arrangements,” she announced, her tone teasing.

"You see, our dear blacksmith never made it back to our room. Nami and I were quite worried," Robin added, her gaze briefly flickering towards you before settling on the swordsman with a soft smile. "You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Zoro?"

Zoro's expression remained unreadable as he turned his attention to you, his stare piercing and calculating. He leaned against the doorframe, his lip twitched for a fraction of a second, reveling in the chaos in your eyes. "Whatever the witch said," he replied mysteriously, lazily gesturing towards you with a tilt of his head.

You scowled at the nickname, a flicker of irritation crossing your features.

Nami scoffed, her annoyance evidently feigned. "Well, isn’t that convenient?"

You cleared your throat, your hand absentmindedly going to the cursed knife at your waist. “Yes, incredibly convenient.” You shot Zoro a frustrated glare. “In any case, I’ve got work to do.” You stated resolutely, making your way back towards the door.

Robin called your name, stopping you in your tracks. “You left the research out on the table outside last night. I put it in your forge for you, if you ever wondered where it went.”

You flashed her a grateful smile and a small thank you before strolling past the swordsman. He didn’t move out of the way, forcing you to brush against him. The warmth of his body seeped through the fabric of your clothes, sending a subtle jolt of electricity through you. Zoro's gaze flickered with an unreadable intensity, a hint of amusement at your almost unobservable shiver as he tracked your movements.

Suppressing the unexpected flutter in your chest, you flipped him off before continuing on your way.  

He snorted at your defiance, his eye shamelessly tracing the contours of your figure, halting at the hem of your skirt.  His fingers twitched imperceptibly.

Sanji kicked Zoro in the shin, taking back his attention.

"What'd you do that for?" Zoro screeched.

"(Y/n)'s a lady you muscle-headed moron," the cook shouted as he made his way out of the galley with the swordsman in tow.

The heat of your forge was comforting, the familiar act of wrapping your hair in linen cloth allowing you to clear your mind.

You sat down as you waited for the fires to attain the necessary temperature for the task you wanted to attempt. Your fingers traced the uneven edge of the cursed dagger, letting your haki flow to touch it, understand how it was created.

The excruciating pain enveloped your senses like a suffocating shroud. Grappling with the relentless surge of agony coursing through your veins, you gritted your teeth and summoned every ounce of your willpower, determined not to back away. Each pulsating wave of sensation threatened to overwhelm you, but you stood firm, unyielding in your resolve.

As you delved deeper into the essence of the cursed steel, you probed the twisted techniques that had been utilized to imbue it with haki, tracing the dark tendrils of its creation back to their source. The images that flickered behind your closed eyes were a haunting reminder of the suffering endured, the echoes of distress etched into the very fabric of the blade's existence as life force was taken forcefully.

Hazy visions of torment danced before you, each blurry snapshot a testament to the cruelty that had been employed in making the dagger. You felt the agony, heard the anguish, the cries of souls torn from their mortal shells. It was as if the blade itself bore witness to the violent depths of human depravity, a silent beholder to the atrocities committed in the name of science.

Never before had you encountered such haki-infused steel, a material that carried the imprint of darkness in its very essence. It was a rare sight, one that sent an unwelcome surge of dread in your mind, for you recognized its origins all too well. Only in the creations forged by your own hands had you glimpsed such power and pain. You couldn’t help but feel a certain amount of responsibility for its existence.

The task ahead of you was daunting, for you knew all too well the challenges that lay in dismantling a black blade. More often than not, it was an impossible feat, the sentience that came with stolen life force resisting all attempts to break its hold. Hells, you had tried to destroy Yokubari more times than you could count. But as you gazed down at the steel along the tips of your fingers, you harbored a steadfast determination—a refusal to allow such a perversion to persist in this world.

You let your haki recede, the fires crackling and hissing as they cast flickering shadows across the walls. The beads of sweat that were starting to dot your brow gave you the indication that the temperature you needed was almost there.

As you approached the roaring furnace, the heat radiating from the inferno grazed at your skin, searing and intense, but you paid it no mind, your focus consumed by the task at hand. Your eyes lost themselves in the flames. You deposited the dagger on the bed of coal daring the fire to devour it. The flames eagerly licked at the black surface as if hungry for the power that pulsed within. The steel hissed and sputtered, the sound like a chorus of angry spirits protesting their fate, but still, you pressed on, pumping the bellows with practiced ease.

As the dagger sank deeper into the molten heart of the forge, the fires roared to life with renewed intensity, casting dancing sharpening shadows. The air grew thick with the scent of burning metal. You reached in with your haki, prying at the soul within in hope to release it.

It fought with the vigor of a dying animal. You tried kindness, tried forcefulness, nothing worked. The steel stood still, edge looking back at you in defiance. You took it out of the orange coals, tossing it on your anvil in anger.  

You swore in fury, gritting your teeth as you sat back in your chair, eyeing the insolent blade from afar. Frustration coursed through your veins at your inadequacy, at your weakness. The flames continued to rage around you only adding to the exertion you felt.

You spotted green hair in the periphery of your vision. You groaned, in no mood to entertain anyone’s antics.

Zoro's figure loomed in the doorway of your forge for what felt like an eternity. His presence cast a long shadow across the floor as he leaned casually against the frame. His gaze was inscrutable as he watched you, the faintest hint of curiosity gleaming in his eye.

"What's got you all worked up?" he asked, his voice gravelly.

You shot him a glare, your frustration overflowing. "This damn dagger," you muttered, gesturing towards the cursed blade with a displeased flick of your wrist. "It won't yield. I've tried everything, but it's like it's... alive."

Zoro's expression remained impassive as he stepped further into the forge, his eye narrowing slightly as he studied the dagger. "Alive, huh?" he echoed, his tone thoughtful.

You nodded, tossing your head back and closing your lids. You heard the faint rustle of fabric as he moved. “Don’t touch it,” you warned. “I just took it out of the fires.”

His gaze flickered towards you, his fingers stopping mid motion at your warning. He took a few steps back from the uncomfortable heat of the fires, twirling Uragiri in his hand mindlessly as he deliberated over something. With a small smile he threw the sword to you.

"Catch," he said, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

Your eyes snapped open at his words, you struggled to react in time, momentarily caught off guard by his unexpected action, but managed to snatch the blade in the air just before it could slip out of your reach, securing it firmly in your grasp.

All thoughts of the dagger vacated your mind. Your brow furrowed in disbelief as you unsheathed the sword and inspected the steel. "Have you already mastered it?" you inquired incredulously, taken aback by the possibility that he could have learned it so swiftly.

"No," he replied bluntly, his tone leaving no room for ambiguity.

Your frown deepened in confusion. "Then why?" you pressed, genuinely puzzled by his intentions.

"You're teaching me," he stated matter-of-factly, his words hanging in the air with a weight that belied their simplicity.

You blinked. “I’m teaching you?” you repeated, momentarily stunned by his response. Teaching him? The notion seemed absurd, considering the formidability of his skills as a swordsman. “You mean like what I did in the research facility?” you asked.

His confirming grunt sent a shiver down your spine.

You ignored the sensation, looking at the sword as you pondered the idea over. "No," you decided firmly, refusing to entertain it any longer than necessary.

"Huh?" Zoro's brows furrowed in confusion, his tone laced with a hint of frustration. "Why not?" he pressed, his gaze searching yours for an explanation.

You squinted, his attitude rubbing on you. "I’m not teaching you how to reverberate haki. It's too dangerous," you sneered down at him from your low vantage point, white scabbard clutched tightly in your hands. "We're on a ship," you added, as though the mere mention of your surroundings underscored the inherent risk of what he was proposing. “With people.”

He scoffed, making his way to you. “It’ll be fine,” he assured you, moving towards your seated form, his boots stopping close to yours.

You looked up at him, resolute stare meeting his, your back digging firmly in the back of your chair. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his cocky reassurance, his arrogance only serving to fuel your irritation. "Fine?" you echoed incredulously, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, well, if you say it'll be fine, then I guess we have nothing to worry about."

Zoro's lips quirked into a smug smirk at your biting retort, his gaze challenging you to match his confidence. "Exactly," he replied, his voice low and gruff as he leaned in closer. His fingers grazed the wooden top of the workbench behind you, the warmth of his breath touched your heated cheek.

You fought to suppress the flutter in your chest at his proximity, unwilling to let him see how easily he could unsettle you. "Well, forgive me if I don't share your blind optimism," you shot back, your words laced with thinly veiled annoyance.

He chuckled softly at your barbed response, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Then, are you underestimating me, witch?” he teased, his tone playful as he reached out to lightly brush his fingers against the ashes on your cheek.

For a sliver of a moment, you almost melted into his touch but the surge of anger that rose inside you at his audacity took over. "Don't do that," you snapped, swatting his hand away with more force than strictly necessary.

The swordsman’s smirk widened at your reaction, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender.

You gritted your teeth in frustration, struggling to maintain your composure. "I'm serious," you warned, your voice edged with firmness. "This is a bad idea, and I won't be held responsible if something goes wrong."

His gaze locked with yours. His fingers brushed yours along the lacquered wood of the scabbard.

Your resolve wavered. “Fine,” you hissed. “Just let me change first.”

You should have fucking stuck to your instincts. You swore under your breath as you pried Uragiri out of the moron’s hands.

“Kind and reassuring, you idiot,” you yelled at the man before you. “Not fucking brute force.”

Zoro's scowl deepened, his brows furrowing in irritation at your outburst. "What's your problem? I almost had it,” he shouted, his voice tinged with annoyance.

"My problem?" you shot back incredulously, frustration welling up to the surface. "You're reckless, impulsive, and completely oblivious to the consequences of your actions. You can’t control your haki properly and you weren’t even close to getting it."

Zoro bristled at your words, his jaw clenched with vexation. "You're a shit teacher," he retorted defensively. "If you'd stop yelling at me for two seconds, maybe I could actually make some progress."

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. "Progress?" you echoed, cynicism coloring your tone. "You call that progress? Nearly slicing the ship in two because you're too stubborn to listen to reason?"

Zoro's expression hardened slightly at the mention of his previous blunder, a flicker of displeasure crossing his features. "I can handle it," he insisted obstinately, though the strain in his voice betrayed a crack in his bravado.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "That's not the point," you replied wearily, your anger giving way to exhaustion. "The point is that you need to learn control. You can't just charge into every situation without thinking things through."

“Are you giving me a lecture on impulsivity?” He snorted. “That’s rich.”

You winced at the truth of his words. “Apparently I fucking have to” you gritted through clenched teeth.

“Fine,” he relented stiffly. “Show me again.”

You took in a deep breath trying to rein in your own irritation. This was going nowhere. “Let’s try something different,” you sighed. “Since my way is clearly not working, show me how your haki works.”

Zoro’s scowl softened as he considered your suggestion. “My haki?” He mused. “I can do that,” he said smugly.

You set Uragiri to the side, taking a seat on the wood of the deck. You watched as he did the same not too far from you. Watched as he casually reached within, looking for the well of his willpower. 

With practiced ease, haki flowed along his skin, coating the tips of his fingers, his hand, his arm.

Your breath caught as the air buzzed with electricity. It was stunning, breathtaking. The mastery, the dominance. It was entirely different than yours. You didn’t understand how he did it.

Your fingers twitched, tentatively moving to touch his. 

The raw power was intoxicating, sharp and ready to kill.

His gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that seemed to pierce through your very soul. You couldn't decipher the thoughts swirling behind that unwavering stare, but the mischievous glint that danced in his eye hinted at a deeper comprehension than he let on. With a subtle smirk, he delved further into his reserves, channeling his haki with a newfound fervor that left you in awe.

"Can't control my haki?" he teased, referring to your earlier critique.

"You're still stuck on that? Stop showing off," you chided, your tongue clicking in disapproval. "Uragiri needs kindness and reassurance, not this shit."

"Then show me kind and reassuring," he challenged, his gaze unwavering as he met your eyes with steely determination.

"I've never quite grasped armament haki, so I’m not sure how one would go about it with that technique," you admitted with a hint of vulnerability. "My willpower isn't rooted in a desire to fight, but to create," you explained, reaching instinctively into the depths of yourself. “You can’t achieve what I did in the research lab by simply coating a sword. You need to understand it, find the haki woven in the layers steel.”

Your hand went to Uragiri at your side, bringing it in between you and the swordsman. “It’s important to observe how a blade was made, when you’re going at it the way I am,” you continued calmly, extending your haki along the swirls of the steel. “Observe which areas of the steel bends, which holds firm. How strong the core stands. It’s all part of a sword’s soul.”

His expression softened, mirroring your sincerity as he watched the black spirals emanate from your palm, the movements of your fingers as they grazed the sharpness of the edge with genuine curiosity. Tentatively, he allowed his haki to recede, attempting to replicate your technique with careful precision.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you observed his earnest efforts, the intensity of his focus drawing you in. In that moment, he seemed almost youthful, his features tempered by the sheer concentration etched upon his face.

“You don’t have to go about it in the same way I do,” you said after watching him struggle for a while. “I’m certain you can achieve a similar effect with your own technique. There’s always more than one solution to every challenge.”

You suddenly shot up to your feet, steps urgently taking you back towards your forge. You had an idea. A different way you could approach the dagger. “Keep going at it, you’ll figure it out.” You shouted back at him.

← Previous chapter | Next chapter →

Masterlist

[with-my-calamitous-love]

MORE REASONS NOT TO END IT ALL:

1) the smell of the grass after it rains

2) sharp eyeliner wings

3) coffins are hella expensive

4) trust me guys i had an attempt and being in the hospital really sucks ☹️ rzn why im writing this

5) laughing so hard you grow a 6 pack

6) finding a new micro-obsession

7) talking to someone about said micro-obsession

8) so american by olivia rodrigo

9) the rush in your heart when someone tells you they love you

10) theres people who still need you around

11) gotta outlive the haters

12) the smell of garlic

13) WERE YOU SENT BY SOMEONE WHO WANTED ME DEAD DID YOU SLEEP WITH A GUN UNDERNEATH OUR BED WERE YOU WRITING A BOOK WERE YOU A SLEEPER CELL SPY IN FIFTY YEARS WILL ALL THIS BE DECLASSIFIED AND YOU’LL CONFESS WHY YOU DID IT AND I’LL SAY GOOD RIDDANCE CUZ IT WASNT SEXY ONCE IT WASNT FORBIDDEN I WOULDVE DIED FOR YOUR SINS INSTEAD I JUST DIED INSIDE AND YOU DESERVE PRISON BUT YOU WONT SERVE TIME YOU’LL SLIDE INTO INBOXES AND SLIP THROUGH THE BARS YOU CRASHED MY PARTY AND YOUR RENTAL CAR YOU SAID NORMAL GIRLS WERE BORING BUT YOU WERE GONE BY THE MORNING YOU KICKED OUT THE STAGE LIGHT BUT YOU’RE STILL PERFORMING AND IN PLAIN SIGHT YOU HID BUT YOU ARE WHAT YOU DID AND I’LL FORGET YOU BUT I’LL NEVER FORGIVE (if you know, you know)

14) all your birthdays to come and all the cake to be eaten

15) birds chirping on a crisp spring morning

16) taking cool live photos and pressing them to watch them play out

17) garlic bread

18) those weird and really funny x listener audios click for a surprise

19) drinking cold water at 3am

20) just not today. don’t do it today and keep it up.

please, REBLOG + ADD MORE REASONS!

[heartbeat-eras]

~Intro Post ~

Hi everyone!

Long time cardiophile in the community but just discovering tumblr for the first time.  Please bear with me while I work this out 😅

About me:

My first memory was me, maybe 3 years old, with my head on my Mums chest asking her what that was. Ever since then it’s always been a thing I’ve been fascinated in. 

My cardio-interest can be many things and have evolved over the years. I have the curiosity about what certain things make it do. How it reacts to exercise or caffeine or nicotine or standing different ways. How holding your breath makes it skip and slow down. I love seeing the reactions to different things. This was the era I started in. 

Then there is the emotional side. The heart can’t lie. If you had a stethoscope on my chest right now, while these words could be trying to portray confidence - you you hear her thrashing in my chest with nervousness / excitement. (Talking about hearts, even anon, gives me anxiety). It’s one of those things that in my real life I would love to be more open about but the level of trust to do that is something that needs to be earned. 

And the dark / …. Adult side… if you asked me years ago I would have said hell no. It depends on the day, month, mood, etc. I’m more open to it these days. Electro, breath play and cpr is what I would lean into, but I’m either in the mood or definitely not. There’s no in between. 

RP / Messages - I’ve never RP before. Maybe I want to try? I’m not sure. I need to be comfortable to talk about hearts so it would have to be a slow intro into it. I also never know how to answer a blind message saying “how’s your heart?”  It kinda feels intrusive and personal so unless it’s a comment about a post PLEASE just start how you would any message to any friend 😊

About my heart

My heart wasn’t all the exciting. Sleeping she gets into the high 40s - low 50’s. Just sitting around working she’s chill around 68. It’s the exercise that gets her. I’ve been a smoker for about 16 years (the last 3 of those vaping instead). When I exercise she shoots up and stays in the 170-188 range on a run. Her recovery is ok considering nic. Slows down initially pretty quickly but says just about 100 for a while. She doesn’t throw many skips and I can induce a couple from a breath hold / push but usually will just beat really slowly after that. 

… well all that was until 6 month ago. Yo girl was diagnosed with ADHD as an adult and started on stimulants. Now she feels completely different. I needed to go through the full heart check prior to this, I wanted so bad to see the ECG and see her beating but I was mentally not in a good place and didn’t get to. 

They say that Dexadrine is meant to only increase your resting by 5-7 beats. I would end up sitting at my desk and her beating away happily in the 90s. I haven’t exercised yet but when they wear off at night I can definitely feel her pounding a bit harder and faster than she used to. I’ve now noticed late at night she will occasionally get skippy and throw 5 or 6 beats in a row. But only occasionally and then goes back the normal pounding rhythm. 

Last night I wore my chest strap to bed to see how she was behaving. When she would usually be around 50, last night she didn’t get lower than 65. Today I decided to test her and record her without getting up and taking my meds. A true resting test. She was steady around 68 for 45 mins. Then she increased to about 72 as they kicked in. So maybe they weren’t lying. Maybe just being up is enough to jack her up into the 90s 🤔 she is pounding really forcefully though. I think I’m going to continue monitoring and see if this the norm. 

Anyway, you’ve made it this far you probably deserve some of her sounds. After she didn’t take off into the 90s like I thought she would I decided it was time to have my morning nicotine. This is where the changes took place. A short sound for you to hear hear speeding up. This is before I’ve stood up still. 

What do you hear? How fast is she beating? What do you think she’s feeling? 

Soon I’ll try some exercise and we will see how that goes. 😅

[bwabys-scenarios]

Reunited

Part 17

Illumi x Reader x ??????

Part 16

Part 18

warning: Hisoka is actually smart and knows about relationships(SCARY)(/j) Illumi is horny for reader

taglist: @tsukilover11 @mercyboluthecrazychicken @merinfawleygoestohogwarts

if you want to be tagged in the next update, comment a red heart❤️ make sure you’re able to be searched/tagged or I won’t be able to mention you!!

“Good morning, (Name).”

(Name) nearly jumped out of her skin when she woke up to the sound of someone right next to her in bed, the feeling of thin fingers in her hair.

The man next to her chuckled, using his hand to grab her chin and turn her face towards him.

“Miss me?” It was Illumi(again), smiling at her. He thought that this was the peak of romance, but…

Illumi paused when her eyes met his. Instead of her usual bright and cheery eyes, they were red and puffy and he could see tear stains running down her plump cheeks.

“… were you crying last night?”

She sniffled, refusing to look him in the eye.

“Why do you care? We’re not even friends.”

That hit him in straight in the heart. Had his words from last night affected her that much? He frowned at her, letting her go. She turned away from him and pulled the blanket over her head, scooting away as far as she could.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now. You can’t say things like that to me then act like everything’s okay.”

Illumi stood up, letting the comforter fall off his shirtless form and stepped off of her bed. He’d crawled in with her at around 3 am when he’d arrived home, nearly forgetting about his little blunder hours before.

The manor was quiet. It was still early, only 6 am, so this was to be expected. Although he hadn’t gotten much sleep that night, Illumi couldn’t allow himself to catch up on his rest.

He padded down the stares, stopping when he spotted Kalluto pacing at the staircase.

“Kalluto, what are you doing here so early?”

Illumi’s younger brother paused, giving him a greeting before answering.

“I heard (Name) crying last night, so it’s been hard to sleep. I’m not sure what got her in such a bad mood, but whatever happened was enough for her to fall asleep in tears.”

The boy seemed upset, maybe even angry. Illumi had never seen his brother care this much about another persons well being, and a small part of him was beginning to feel guilty.

She’d been kind enough to be friendly with him despite his strange behavior and bad attitude, yet he’d scoffed at her offer of friendship, like he didn’t crave some kind of a relationship with her.

The sun was taking its time rising, and so was (Name). It was nearly 8 am and she had yet to leave her room, which Kalluto informed Illumi of it being unusual.

He knew she was awake, he could sense her walking around and practicing Ren.

“She knows Ren already?” Illumi asked, a bit surprised. Kalluto gave him a nod, not paying much attention to the question. The youngest Zoldyck grew more and more concerned by the minute.

When it reaches 9 am and (Name) still hadn’t left her room, Illumi decided to go and check on her.

He had the common decency to knock, calling out to her.

“(Name). It’s time for breakfast.”

No response.

Illumi waited another hour before he tried again.

“(Name), you can’t stay in your room all day, you know.”

Again, no response. Frustration was beginning to build in Illumi’s stomach. Surely what he had said wasn’t bad enough to get the silent treatment. He began to pace outside her door, hands on his hips.

Illumi left once again, this time telling Kalluto to try.

He watched his younger brother approach the door and knock from the shadows. Kalluto carried a tray of food with him.

“(Name), it’s Kalluto. I brought you some breakfast.”

The door creaked open, (Name) glancing around the hallway before opening it enough for Kalluto to slip in. Illumi watched this with an ever deepening frown.

Kalluto did not stay for long, but when he left his expression was that of intense worry. After (Name) shut the door, he approached his brother timidly.

“She says she’s not coming out, that she isn’t feeling well. I’ll have a physician come and check on her once she’s finished her breakfast.”

Illumi nodded, folding his arms over his chest. He wondered why she had lied about her reason for staying holed up in her room to Kalluto. Did she not want to make him look bad?

Guilty, guilty, guilty. Illumi’s mind raced with bad thoughts, imagining her never wanting to speak with him again. He’d never though women were such fragile creatures!

The eldest son didn’t know much about relationships, his only friend had been (Name) ten years ago, and he’d NEVER had a girlfriend. The assassin would need to ask for advice, but from who?

—————

Illumi scrolled through his contacts, most of them being clients or his own family. He only had two contacts besides that, (Name), and…

He clicked on the contact, hitting the call button with a sigh.

“Hello?~”

“Hello, Hisoka.”

The magician chuckled at Illumi’s monotone voice, causing him to frown.

“Listen, I need to ask you something.”

“If you’re calling me this early in the morning, it must be important. Ask away.”

Hisoka may be annoying and an weirdo, but Illumi knew the man had had various lovers. Despite his strange personality, both men and women seemed to flock to his side, so he had to at least know something about Illumi’s little… problem.

“… you know (Name), right?”

“Why yes, I know her quite well. Intimately, you might even say.”

Illumi decided to ignore that last remark.

“Well, last night I seemed to have… upset her.”

“Oh? How did you accomplish that? Isn’t she just a way of sunshine that seems impervious to insults? You must’ve really messed up.” Hisoka teased.

Illumi bit the inside of his cheek, looking down at his feet.

“She told me if I was a mindless killer, she wouldn’t want to have me as her friend, and I replied ‘who said I even wanted to be your friend?’. I climbed into bed with her when I got home, and when I woke her up I discovered she’d been crying last night. Now she won’t speak to me.”

“Climbing into bed with her? Naughty Illumi.”

“Stick to the point Hisoka, or I’ll hang up.”

Hisoka laughed at Illumi’s embarrassed tone, causing the latter to angrily tap his fingers against his arm.

“Illumi, darling, women are sensitive. When you say things like that, she’ll assume you don’t want to be around her, or dislike her. That would be confusing to her, considering you crawl into bed and caress her randomly. She probably doesn’t understand what you want from her, and why you’re being unkind all of the sudden.”

That actually made sense to him. He’d been handsy with her since the exam had ended, constantly caressing her and holding onto her.

Of course she’d be confused about his intentions when he said he didn’t even consider her a friend. What was a girl to think having a man all over her, then say he wasn’t interested in her friendship or romance?

“She may think you are trying to pursue a more… sexual relationship. After all, you have been in her bed when she wakes up.”

It’s not like he didn’t want a sexual relationship, god just thinking being with her in that way was enough to make his head spin.

“… but I’m not after just that.”

“I know, dear. Maybe try getting her a gift and apologizing? What’s something she likes?”

He thought back to their childhood, going through each memory he had of her until present time. Throughout these memories, one thing remained present through all of them.

“I know the perfect thing.”

——————

(Name) pulled the blanket off of her form as the doctor walked in, carrying a bag of equipment. As he examined her, she couldn’t take her mind off of Illumi.

She couldn’t understand him. One moment he’s caressing her and being so sweet, the next he’s cruel and then back again. What did he want from her? If he didn’t want her friendship, what else could she possibly offer? Why was he being so kind to her, if he didn’t want to be friends?

“Hmm, it seems your body is healthy considering your injuries, but you are exhausted. I’ll inform Master Kalluto that you’re training is cancelled for today. Get some rest, your meals will be delivered to you.”

She nodded, pulling the cover back to her chin. (Name) thought back to her childhood, remembering when boys would be nice to her. Their intent was never friendly, either looking to take something from her or humiliate her. ‘Illumi has everything though, there’s nothing he could take from me… except…’

Her face heated up. Of course, why hadn’t she thought of that earlier? If a man doesn’t want your friendship or romance, what other reason does he have to have his hands all over you?

She felt sick. Had she allowed this man to touch all over her just to fulfill his sick desire? Kurapika and Leorio had been right, he was a creep!

Or… he was doing this as some sort of prank. His kindness was a sham, a way to mock her naive mind. That made a lot more sense to her. She’d always been on the insecure side. Why would a man like him want anything to do with her? She was kidding herself if she thought he would want her, even just sexually.

But why did she care if he wanted her? He was an assassin, a person that killed for profit. Why should a man that didn’t care about human life’s opinion matter to her in the slightest?

Still, her heart thumped painfully against her chest when she remembered the way he looked waking up next to her, the way he caressed her so gently…

‘Ah, just go to sleep, (Name) there’s no reason to think about him like that!’

Drowsiness began to take over the girls mind, her being teetering between the edge of sleep and consciousness.

She fell over the border of sleep, sighing softly into her pillow.

—————

Kalluto visited (Name) a few times, bringing her lunch and sitting on the edge of her bed to chat. She seemed even more depressed than before, covering herself in her blanket completely.

When Illumi walked in, (Name) didn’t even bother to look up. Kalluto told him that she’d gotten worse, and wouldn’t even peek her head out of her fluffy cocoon.

“(Name). Will you please come out of your… cocoon?”

“No.”

The man lifted an eyebrow. He thought about just yanking the blanket off, but remembered Hisoka’s words.

‘Women are sensitive.’

He strolled over to her side of the bed, staring down at the lump that was (Name), and sat next to her.

“… I’m…”

He bit his lip. Illumi hadn’t said a genuine apology in years.

“I am sorry.”

An eye slowly peeked out of the blanket, blinking at him. “Sorry for what, Illumi?”

He frowned, a groan leaving his lips. “I’m sorry I said what I said. It wasn’t how I actually feel.”

The cover slowly slid from her form, revealing (Name) in a white top and shorts. He tried not to stare at all her exposed skin on display for him, turning his head to look out the window.

“How do you actually feel?”

She was sitting up now, her leg nearly touching his. She peered at him from her seat, her eyes curious.

“I…”

He was glad he was facing away from her, because his cheeks were starting to turn a light shade of pink.

“I wouldn’t mind being your friend.”

When he was finally able to meet her eyes, his breath caught in his throat.

She was looking at him with a sweet smile, her eyes bright again. The way she looked at him with such love and kindness made him feel… soft. Like he was easily pliable, ready for her to mold him into whatever she wanted.

“I’m happy. Let’s be friends then!”

She leaned against his shoulder, reaching a hand behind his back to wrap around him in a half-hug. He did the same, pulling her by the waist closer to him.

Right now the only thing he wanted was for her to be close to him. He couldn’t think of anything else he wanted more than that.

“Illumi, I’m feeling a bit better. Will you walk with me to dinner?”

————

Illumi waited outside the door for (Name) to change out of her pajamas.

She’d decided to go with something comfortable, throwing on a soft pink seater and white pleated skirt. She pulled on a pair of white and pink striped thigh highs and slipped on the pair of black Mary Janes from before.

Illumi couldn’t help but swoon a bit when she left the room. (Name) looked good in anything she wore in his eyes, but the cute oversized sweater and skirt combo was quickly becoming one of his favorite looks for her.

He offered a hand to her, which she took gingerly. The two made their way to the dining hall, Kalluto joining them halfway through.

Before they reached the dining hall, illumi stopped.

“Kalluto, go ahead. I need to speak with (Name) for a moment.”

“But I-“

Illumi shot him a look, causing the youngest Zoldyck to scurry away. (Name) raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What is it you need to say to me, Illumi?”

The tall man was quiet, his hands reaching into his pocket. He seemed to hold onto something there, hesitating on pulling it out.

“What are you hiding, Illumi?”

She waited for him to answer, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“It’s.. it’s a gift.”

He opened his hand, revealing a palm sized (fav Sanrio character) plush.

(Name) stared at the tiny plush, her eyes glued to it. Illumi motioned for her to put her hands out, and she did.

“Here.”

He placed the plush in her hands. She looked up at him and back to the plush, pulling it to her chest and squeezing it tight.

“Thank you, you’re very sweet.”

She gave him that big smile he loved so much, her cheeks pink/darker. Illumi just nodded and held out his hand.

“Let’s go to the dining hall now.”

—————

The entire Zoldyck family(minus Killua and Alluka) watched with bated breath as the two strolled in. (Name) seemed much more comfortable with Illumi’s touch, holding his hand because she wanted to, not for comfort.

Illumi pulled out her chair for her, pushing her close to the table before taking his own seat. His eyes never seemed to leave her, almost as if he did she would disappear.

This didn’t go unseen by the oldest son’s parents, who watched the pair with growing interest.

“(Name), I’m so glad you were able to join us for dinner! Are you feeling well?” Kikyo asked, not a hint of concern or care in her voice.

“Yes, I am feeling much better.” (Name) replied, placing her plush in her lap. Kikyo watched this with a grin growing on her face.

“Where did you get that cute little doll, (Name)? Did illumi get it for you?”

(Name) only nodded, the blush returning to her face.

Kikyo exchanged a look with Silva, the latter nodding in thought. “Illumi, that’s so sweet of you. I’ve never seen you give a gift to someone before.”

Illumi glanced at (Name) before replying. “… an acquaintance told me that giving gifts to someone is a good way to apologize.”

(Name) leaned against Illumi’s arm, looking up at him with her pretty (e/c) eyes. “Well, that’s not wrong, but I don’t need gifts. It’s appreciated, but just being around you is enough for me.”

Illumi couldn’t help but slip a hand to the small of her back, keeping it there as she laid her head on his shoulder. His hand was cold and a bit clammy, but (Name) didn’t seem to mind.

Kikyo watched the interaction, a happy squeal leaving her throat.

“(Name), you’ve continued practicing Ren, correct? Kalluto informed me you weren’t feeling well today.”

Zeno interrupted the conversation, taking a bite of his food in between sentences. The girl nodded, sitting up. Illumi’s hand slipped away from her, settling in his lap.

“Yes, I wanted to keep practicing Ren while I rested. I made sure to take plenty of breaks, i promise.”

“(Name), how long are you able to maintain Ren?”

This time it was Silva asking the question. (Name) visibly froze, not used to speaking with the head of the Zoldyck family.

“Right now it’s 2 minutes.”

Illumi blinked, staring down at her in awe. “2 minutes, already? That’s a major development, (Name). They say it takes a month to get to 10 minutes, with your progress it may only take two weeks!”

He cupped her cheek, looking her over closer. She didn’t seem much different, even her aura was the same, but her eyes told a different story. They were determined, shining brighter than the morning star.

“I want to finish training as soon as possible. The faster I do, the faster I can accept jobs and support my family.”

He’d forgotten about her goals. Illumi had been so busy with his own feelings and motivations that he had put hers on the back burner. This was no ordinary girl, she was a woman on a mission.

“That’s very honorable of you, (Name). What branch of Hunter do you plan to go into?”

“I don’t have any plans on doing anything specific, just whatever pays the best.”

Illumi stiffened.

“I see. Even if the job is dangerous?”

“Danger has no bearing on my decisions. If it pays well, I’ll do it.”

This seemed to excited the elder Zoldycks, though Illumi was quiet next to her. He hadn’t thought about her doing jobs. Him bringing her to his estate to return a favor had just been an excuse to keep her around. Was he sending her to a death sentence?

“… we’ll, you won’t be taking jobs anytime soon. You’re much too weak.” Illumi stated, setting his fork down. He didn’t have much of an appetite at the moment.

“Oh nonsense, I’d say she should be able to accompany someone on a job within the next week or so! She’s progressing so fast, it would be a shame to not let her experience battle first hand.”

Illumi glared at his mother for her suggestion. Didn’t they understand that she wasn’t ready for that yet? (Name) wasn’t like them, she was just a weak girl, barely able to hold a blade without shaking.

“Oh, that would be nice! Illumi, can I accompany you on your next job?”

“No.”

(Name) paused. She looked up at the dark haired man, wincing at the intensity in his eyes. “My jobs are much too dangerous. You’d be better off training here.”

A huff escaped her lips, her arms crossing over her chest defiantly. “Well I can’t learn if I never get to go on jobs!”

“You just started training four days ago, (Name). I’m not saying you can never go, you just have to be…”

He pushed her hair out of her face with a soft sigh.

“Patient.”

———————

(Name) slowly undressed herself, quickly putting on a pair of pajama pants and a sweater. The moon had risen outside, and she was tired.

Illumi’s parents had requested her to perform Ren for them, and were thoroughly pleased with the results. She however, was now exhausted due to straining herself too much. Kalluto scolded her harshly after dinner, but Illumi shooed him away saying that he should be kinder to women.

Her eyes slid to her nightstand, where the plush sat. Illumi had been kind enough to help her to her room after dinner, and sat it there after leaving. She made him promise not to sneak into her bed that night, as she didn’t feel like being jumpscared in the morning.

Speaking of jumpscares, (Name)’s ringing phone nearly made the girl jump out of her skin. She looked down at the caller ID, smiling when she saw Kurapika’s contact.

“Kurapika, what’s up?” She answered the phone, lying down on her bed.

“Mm, nothing much. We heard through Zebro that you were feeling unwell today, so I decided to call after training and see how you’re doing.”

Kurapika was a sweet boy, always making sure she was okay. (Name) giggled.

“If you want we can FaceTime and you can see for yourself.”

Once she accepted the FaceTime call, she saw the three boys gathered together to fit into the screen, all waiting for her to show up. When she did, their expressions brightened.

“(Name)! How are you? We just got done with our baths!” Gon exclaimed, his hair still wet.

“Oh, me too. I’m doing alright. I happened to make a new friend today!”

Leorio raised an eyebrow. “Who did you befriend this time, (Name)?”

She scratched the back of her head sheepishly. She didn’t know how Gon would react to her message, but she wouldn’t lie.

“Illumi.”

The three shared a look, Kurapika frowning deeply.

“You mean the man who basically kidnapped you, has been randomly touching you, and made you cry last night?”

Oh dear, she’d forgotten she’d told them about that.

“Ah, yeah. He apologized though…”

She twiddled her thumbs, not making eye contact.

“You’re an adult, so I won’t tell you who to associate with, but you should be careful.”

Kurapika crossed his arms, Leorio grabbing the phone from him.

“(Name) that man is bad news! Friends don’t sneak into your bed and caress you! He’s a creep that’s only after one thing!”

“And what is that?”

Leorio glanced at Gon before sighing. “You know what I mean, (Name). You shouldn’t trust men, they’re wolves!”

“You and Kurapika are men, but I trust you!”

“Yeah, well we wouldn’t-“

Kurapika hit him with his sheathed weapon. “Let’s try that again. I wouldn’t do the things Illumi has done. It is strange to sneak into a woman’s bed without telling her.”

A light blush was on Kurapika’s cheeks. Was he embarrassed of this topic? That amused (Name), a small smile on her face.

“I trust you, Kurapika. You’re too much of a sweetheart do do anything like that.”

Kurapika turned away from the camera, hiding his face. “Y-yes. Thank you, (Name).”

Gon watched the scene with an unreadable expression.

“(Name), I won’t judge you for your friendships, but I don’t think he’s a good guy. He said all those mean things to Killua and…”

He paused. “I’m afraid he may hurt you. Physically or emotionally.”

He didn’t give her time to speak, quickly putting his hands up in surrender. “It’s your decision though, but just keep in mind that he’s willing to hurt people to get what he wants. I don’t want that to happen to you.”

—————

(Name) had a lot to think about after her phone call ended. Something about Illumi pulled her towards him, maybe it was his good lucks or his strange personality, but there was something in him that felt familiar. To be by his side felt soothing, like hanging out with an old friend.

She didn’t want to believe he had the capacity to hurt her, even knowing he’d kill if it meant furthering his goals(whatever those were).

‘He may not be perfect, but I don’t think he’s awful either. I… I want to be his friend. I can’t even understand why, but I want to be near him.’

Sleep didn’t come easy to her that night, spending hours tossing and turning. Her restless mind kept replaying Gon’s words.

If for some reason, in the future, (Name) became an obstacle to his goals, would he strike her down with no regret?

So many questions, but no answers. When sleep finally took her, she could only dream of her childhood friend.

She missed him more than anything.

—————

Illumi pulled his legs to his chest and stared out at the midnight sky. His dark eyes took in the sight with little reaction.

Something about being in bed by himself when (Name) was so close by felt wrong. He craved her touch, craved the little sounds she made as she slept peacefully.

Before he could realize it, Illumi found himself at (Name)’s door, cracking it open. He promised her he wouldn’t get into bed with her, but said nothing about watching her sleep.

His large, dark orbs observed her every movement, glancing from her slowly rising chest to her lips where a light drool pooled from. Illumi held back a snicker, using his sleeve to wipe her mouth.

‘She’s so cute when she’s sleeping. It’s much easier to watch over her when she isn’t aware.’

(Name) shifted in her sleep, her face scrunching up in displeasure. “N-no… Illumi, please don’t go.”

His heart pounded against his chest. Was she dreaming about him? (Name) whined out, feeling the air for something that wasn’t there.

“Stay… a little longer… til I gotta go back home… for dinner.”

Oh. She was dreaming about him, but not the current Illumi. In her subconscious, she remembered her childhood friends name. This confused and frustrated him to no end. If she could remember him in a dream, why couldn’t she remember him when she was awake?

The smell of salty tears shook Illumi from his thoughts, his eyes drifting from her outstretched hand to her face.

“Miss… you… please…”

He leaned down, grabbing her hand and pressing it against his cheek. It felt nice to feel her warm palm caress his face, his lips meeting her fingers in a tender kiss.

“Shhh, I’m right here. Don’t cry.”

They stayed like that for a while, (Name) slowly calming down enough to sleep peacefully.

He let go of her hand, laying it down to rest on her chest. His eyes caught sight of her pouty lips, barely restraining himself from stealing a kiss.

‘This girl is going to be the death of me…’

He left her room and walked back to his, curling up under his blankets. He held his face, smiling to himself.

Illumi would be able to sleep now, with the ghost of her touch on his cheek.

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - none i dont think

y/nn = your nickname for anyone confused🩷

Chapter 4

It was already Christmas 1959, and I had no idea what to get Matt. I walked through the crowded streets of Wiesbaden, windowshopping, trying to get ideas. Picking out gifts for the family had always been easy, since we always knew exactly what was wanted or needed; in fact, we often made our gifts for one another. On this occasion my father gave me thirty-five dollars to spend on Matt, and it seemed a vast amount to me when I set out on this freezing cold day. I was slapped with the reality when I noticed a beautiful hand-made cigar box with porcelain outlining and a decorative design. Matt, a cigar smoker, would have loved it. But after the shopkeeper told me the price, 650 Deutsche marks or $155, all I walked out with was my expensive taste.

It was snowing heavily and I hurried into another shop, this one full of bright toys, including a solidly built toy German train that I could imagine Matt instantly setting up in his living room. But the train cost 2,000 Deutsche marks.

Heading home in the dark, on the verge of tears, I spotted a music store, where a pair of bongo drums inlaid with gleaming brass were displayed in the window. They were forty dollars, but the clerk took mercy on me and sold them for thirty-five. As I headed home I was beset by a thousand doubts, convinced that the drums were the least romantic of gifts.

I must have asked Nate Doe and David Jones twenty times if they thought the drums were appropriate. “Oh sure,” Nate said. “Anything you give him, he’ll like.” I still wasn’t convinced.

On the night we exchanged gifts, Matt emerged from his dad’s room and drew me to one corner of the living room, where he handed me a small wrapped box, in it, a delicate gold watch with a diamond set on the lid and a ring with a pearl bracketed by two diamonds.

I had never owned anything so beautiful, nor had any smile ever warmed me as Matt’s did then. “I’ll cherish these forever,” I told him, and he made me put them on right away and took me around to show everyone.

I waited as long as possible to give Matt my present. Laughing, he said, “Bongos! Just what I always wanted!” Matt could see that I didn’t believe him; he was better at giving than receiving. “Charlie,” he persisted, “didn’t I need some bongos?”

Motioning for me to sit next to him at the piano, he started playing “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” with such emotion that I couldn’t look up for fear he’d see I was crying. When at last I couldn’t resist meeting his eyes, I saw that he too was holding back tears.

It was not until many days later that I discovered a whole closet full of bongo drums, mine not included, in the basement. The fact that my white elephants had not been throw into the closet but instead were prominently displayed beside his guitar made me love him all the more.

As the days passed I began to dread the day of Matt’s departure. By January he was already packing, and each night I spent with him became more precious than the one before.

Then, just as the weather turned freezing cold, Matt was sent out on field maneuvers for ten days, and if there was anything Matt hated, it was having to sleep outside on the frozen ground.

The morning after he left, it began to snow and by afternoon it was a blizzard. As Michelle and I were driving home from school with my mother, I turned on the radio, just in time to hear a late-breaking news bulletin.

“Sorry to interrupt, folks, but it was just reported that Corporal Matt Sturniolo has been rushed from field maneuvers to a hospital in Frankfurt, suffering from an acute attack of tonsillitis. Matt, if you’re listening, we all hope you get well real soon.”

Frantic with worry, I called the hospital, hoping to learn more about his condition. To my surprise, when the operator heard my name she put me right through, saying Corporal Sturniolo had left word to do so if I called.

“I’m a sick man, Little One,” Matt rasped. “I need you by my side. If it’s okay with your folks, I’ll send David for you right now.”

Of course my parents gave me permission to go to the hospital, and an hour later I entered his room, just as the nurse was leaving. Matt was propped up in bed with a thermometer in his mouth, surrounded by dozens of floral arrangements.

The moment the nurse was gone, Matt took the thermometer out of his mouth, lit a match, and carefully held it under the thermometer. Then he stuck the thermometer back in his mouth and slumped down on the bed just as the door opened and the nurse returned, carrying in even more flowers.

Smiling warmly to her famous patient, she took the thermometer out of Matt’s mouth, looked at it, and gasped, “A hundred and three. Why, Matt, you’re really sick. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here at least a week.”

Matt nodded mutely as the nurse fluffed up his pillows, filled his water glass, and left the room. Then he burst out laughing, jumped out of bed, and took me in his arms.

He despised maneuvers, and since the weather was so bad and everyone was so worried about his voice, his answer was tonsillitis. Already susceptible to catching colds, Matt learned to dramatize his sickness with a little flick of a match.

It was March 1, 1960, the night before Matt was to leave Germany to return to the States.

We were lying on his bed, our arms around each other. I was in a state of complete despair.

“Oh, Matt,” I said, “I just wish there were some way you could take me with you. I can’t stand the thought of life without you. I love you so much.”

I began sobbing, my anguish overcoming my control.

“Shhh, Baby,” Matt whispered. “Try to calm down. There’s nothing we can do.”

“I’m just afraid you’ll forget me the moment you land,” I cried.

He smiled and kissed me gently. “I’m not going to forget you, y/nn. I’ve never felt this way about another girl. I love you.”

“You do?” I was stunned. Matt had said that I was special before, but he’d never said that he loved me. I wanted so badly to believe him, but I was frightened of getting hurt. I’d read some of Nicole’s letters, and I was sure Matt was on his way back to her open arms.

Holding me close, he said, “I’m torn with the feelings I have for you. I don’t know what to do. Maybe being away will help me understand what I really feel.”

That night our lovemaking took on a new urgency. Would I ever see him again, be in his arms the way I had been nearly every night for the past six months? I missed him already. I could not bear the thought of the night ending and our saying goodbye for what I thought would be the last time. I wept and wept until my body ached with pain.

For the last time I begged him to finally have sex with me. It would have been so easy for him. I was young, vulnerable, desperately in love, and he could have taken complete advantage of me. But he quietly said, “No. Someday we will, y/n, but not now. You’re just too young.”

I lay awake all that night and early the next morning I was back at 18 Hauptstrasse, lost in the midst of a large group of people milling about the living room. They were waiting to say goodbye to Matt, who was upstairs finishing his last-minute packing. Knowing that I alone would be accompanying him to the airport gave me little comfort.

When Matt came downstairs, he laughed and joked with everyone there. Finally, after saying his last goodbye, Matt turned to me. “Okay, Little One, it’s time to go.”

I nodded glumly and followed him out the door. Oblivious to the drizzling rain, hundreds of fans were waiting outside. When they saw Matt they went crazy, begging him to sign autographs. When he finished he jumped into the waiting car and pulled me in behind him. As the door slammed, the driver accelerated and we sped toward the airport.

We rode for a long while in silence, both of us lost in thought. Matt was gazing out the window, frowning over the falling rain. “I know it’s not going to be easy for you to go back to being a schoolgirl again after being with me, y/nn, but you’ve got to. I don’t want you to be sitting around moping after I leave, Little One.”

I started to protest, but he silenced me. “Try to have a good time, write to me every chance you get. I’ll look forward to your letters. Get pink stationery. Address them to Nate. That way I’ll know they’re from you. I want you to promise me you’ll stay the way you are. Untouched, as I left you.”

“I will,” I promised.

“I’ll look for you from the top of the ramp. I don’t want to see a sad face. Give me a little smile. I’ll take that with me.”

Then, handing me his combat jacket and the sergeant’s stripes he’d recently been

awarded, he said, “I want you to have these. It shows you belong to me.” After that, he held me tight.

As we approached the airport, the cheers of the waiting crowds grew louder. We drove as close to the runway as possible, then Matt turned to me and said, “This is it, Baby.”

We got out as cameras flashed, reporters shouted, and screaming fans pressed toward us. Matt held my hand and walked across the runway apron until the guard, who was there to escort Matt to the plane, stopped me from going further.

Matt gave me a brief hug and whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll call you when I get home, Baby, promise.”

I nodded, but before I could answer, we were pulled apart as the crowd rushed in. I was swept away by hundreds of fans, pushing and pulling, trying to get to him. I cried, “Matt!” but he never heard me.

He ran up the boarding steps. Then he turned and waved to the crowd, his eyes searching for me. I waved frantically, as did hundreds of other fans, yet he found me, and for one more brief moment, our eyes locked. Then he disappeared. Just like that.

My parents came to the airport to drive me back to Wiesbaden. During the long ride I was silent.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - sad chapter 😪 (sorry its shorter than ones before)🎀

[itsgrimeytime]

Magnolia in May (Part Seventeen) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x Greene!f!reader Regency AU

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16...

Taglist: @loliakeoghan23 @belaballs @curlycarley @queenie32 @mgparker

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration (in honor of Speak Now Taylor's Version): Enchanted by Taylor Swift.

Summary: Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumors of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing.

TWS: none.

[[A/N: Fluff, more fluff! Fluff for everyone. Get ready for a date, my lovelies. Thanks for reading!!! ]]

You swore she would run herself out, pacing back and forth and back and forth. Headmistress was a rather disheveled character that morning -wonderous sort of frustration radiating off her body, you merely watched.

She seemed focused on the rug, eyes downcast as you stood by the hallway -eagerly following her movements. Headmistress stayed at such a pace, before pausing to herself (speaking words you couldn't quite catch but could hear the faint echo of). Her scream from moments ago stayed locked into your head, shaking along your skin -creeping there at that moment. It was one you'd heard before, honestly a bit astonished, shocked even. It was the same as when you were young and came home covered in mud.

And now, she stayed pacing -a few paces away from Mr. Grimes himself. He still seemed a touch ruffled from his startled sleep -tired eyes and hair just a touch off as if he'd tried to fix it but was unsuccessful.

Upon seeing Mr. Grimes, she had -rather, ungracefully- dragged you out of your bed. You were sure you looked much worse than him, you hadn't quite had time to fix anything.

"You..." she spoke, eyes pointed at him, "-Why are you here, Mr. Grimes? I can only see impropriety, and I'd love for you to clear my mind."

"Ms. Elisa," he responded, suddenly much more awake than before, "-Dr. Greene tended-"

Headmistress jumped in place, "Where is Hershel, in fact, I'm fairly certain he should be here for such things-"

"Ms. Elisa, it is not-"

"You would not admit to such a thing," Headmistress stiffened, "-even the best men would not wish to be in scandal. Despite being scandal already, I doubt you wish to-"

"Headmistress!" You shouted, suddenly, breaking the rather sickly thick tension in the air.

And then, two sets of eyes were upon you and suddenly you felt rather ill-equipped. But, instead of thinking such a way, you just navigated Headmistress's meltdown as you often did.

"Please, sit down."

Headmistress stilled, brown eyes flickering across your face -perhaps in search of some sort of guilt. One she would not find.

"I should sit," she echoed, voice slightly broken as you guided her to a chair, "-thank you, darling. I..."

Her eyes dipped to your nightgown, a bit in surprise -interrupting her current calming, "What are you doing in your nightgown?! That is entirely-"

"Ms. Elisa," you leveled, "-you dragged me out of my bed this morning. I believe you picked what I wore."

"Oh," she relaxed, almost a bit in shame.

"If you do not mind, I wish to get changed, but-" you started, "-I would appreciate it if you spoke with Mr. Grimes-"

"I-"

"-and actually listen to him. Please?" You continued, not missing a beat, "-I believe he's got much to talk about, yes?"

You turned to the man, then, he merely seemed to be frozen for a moment -blue eyes focused on your silhouette. You didn't believe him to blink, actually, "Mr. Grimes?"

Aimless, he suddenly straightened -eyes looking at you in a bit of bewilderment. As if your direct behavior had rather shocked him? It was a bit unladylike but necessary with Headmistress, she needed a grounded force. It was the only thing that broke through her franticness.

"Are you alright?" you asked, tilting your head toward him.

"Me?" he chuckled lightly, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck -nervous, "-I'm wonderful, truly."

"Right," you pursed your lips, "-well, I shall go get dressed. Fetch me when you've spoken."

The following few hours, Headmistress had nearly burst into tears any time she looked at you -refusing to tell you why. You already knew, of course, but it didn't stop you from asking. She asked you to go 'dress shopping' and 'pick out some new ribbons for your hair' for no reason other than her wish to "spend time with you".

You knew better.

The next few days were much of the same, but luckily, you found that a few days was enough to stick Beth back onto activities. Headmistress had favored her well, it was only a matter of time, really. And you just wished to be left alone after so much socializing. That, however, was never really the case.

You'd been left at home, Father off to work, and Headmistress had dragged both Beth and Maggie out for the day -not without requesting you to run to the grocers for the week. Which, in retrospect, did feel rather familiar to you -welcome, instead of the extra trips Headmistress often ran you off on.

Just as you were slipping on your shoes and adjusting the ribbon in your hair, there was a knock on the door. An intent force clear behind such a knock, you wondered briefly just who could be at the door -with such intent of all things.

Straightening yourself, brushing your skirt out of creases, and adjusting your basket in the crook of your arm -the woodwork was smooth on your skin. Unlike your previous one.

With a flourishing movement, you swung the door open. Your eyes immediately matched with brown ones, familiar brown ones.

"Mr. Dixon?"

The man stood rather straight, pristine, and well-trained -at least seemingly, "Mornin', Ms. Greene."

"Good morning," you responded, politely, as his eyes dipped to your basket, "-I'm just off to the shops for the week, do you have a delivery?"

Wordlessly, he held out a match of letters -the tinged brown and the ivory. You startled for a moment, simply forgetting such an exchange and your eyes smoothed across the letters. You on instinct collected them, holding them close to your chest -protective.

"And to extend an invitation," he spoke, further holding out his other hand -the tiny invitation enveloped in his hand. You carefully pulled it out of his hand, ink clean along the page -you stared at it in wonder.

Skimming along, you remarked, "Dinner?"

"Dinner," he confirmed, "-It's Mr. Grimes's intention to have you meet his family. Or rather the ones you haven't yet."

"Just me?"

"It's at your leisure, but he only invited you, particularly, yes."

"If he only asked for me, I shall respect as such," you remarked, clearing your throat and trying to cool your cheeks, "-Am I to be escorted?"

"Naturally," Mr. Dixon spoke, "-should I extend your acceptance to Mr. Grimes?"

"Yes, yes-" you rushed out, ungracefully, "-I will certainly be attending. Extend my acceptance and gratitude as soon as you see him next."

"You said you're off to do som' shoppin'?"

"Yes," you urged, "-Headmistress has often given me such trips for myself, why do you ask?"

"If you'd wish it," Mr. Dixon remarked, "-I could provide Mr. Grimes with such details, I'm sure he would accompany ya."

"Well," you responded, slowly, "-no such thing is necessary. But, if he wishes to join me, I will not be opposed."

"That," he stated, "-is 'at shall be said. Enjoy your morning, Ms. Greene."

And then, the door was shut once again. With a heavy sigh, you slumped against the door a moment -throwing the letters upon the table as if they had burned you. You were excited to see he remembered such things truly, but such a sight brought you back to receiving the first letter -the anguish, confusion...

It had been exhausting.

So, you set down your basket and stared at the paper. Now askew on top of each other because of your toss, they were blocked, and even then, it still felt quite intimidating.

"C'mon, Y/N," you mumbled, "-you're a lady, not a child. A lady."

With a forward motion, you pulled the chair to the table.

"A lady with a letter," you hummed.

Flipping open your own letter, tinged with brown -skimming along to read.

'Mr. Grimes,' you read -words smeared slightly by tears, you traced your fingers along his name.

'I fear rather that such affection will be limitless. That perhaps I may see you at the shops, and look at you a second too long. That the papers would recite 'Mistress looks longingly at recently reunited Groom', and that you may see it and pity me.

Please don't pity me.

I'm strong but the man I've begun to fall for pitying me? It's a pain I wish to never know. Please. I cannot ask for much now. '

You remembered writing this now, you had still been sick -sniffling and bedridden, but you begged for a paper and pen. Maggie was the one who had caved, wiping at your eyes so tenderly, and caring for you when Headmistress could not. It was a particularly desperate time.

'I wish often I could marry you. An embarrassing admission, by fault of my grace but I... hope you to know such a thing. It may change your mind. Your... decision in spite of how it affects me will be honored.

I will not harm your life just because mine is crumbling.

Love,

Y/N Greene'

You took a deep breath in, sinking into your chair -the feelings tumbling over your chest like a wave. So desperately heartbroken. So confused. So hurt-

"No longer," you cleared your throat, wiping gently at your eyes, "-he loves me. Beyond belief."

Something in you settled. You opened the ivory paper without a spare moment, carefully honoring the folds as if such a thing could rip.

'Ms. Greene,' he wrote, and you simply traced his lettering -smiling lightly.

'I know we are much past these letters, but this one... I felt an urge to respond. I cannot imagine you in such a state without feeling sick. So, I've conjured up this letter for you.

It's to stop such feelings of heartbreak, as I state my own feelings -clearly in writing.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

You will certainly see me in the shops, tight by your side, and frankly, I am certain I will marry you. If such an admission is embarrassing for you, it must be mortifying for me.

I love you,

Mr. Grimes.'

[jenniferjareauwife]

Hey! I have a request;

JJ’s teenage daughter staying out all night the night of her prom and doesn’t come home until 5/6 in the morning and JJ finds out she was out all night with a guy she’s been seeing. Lots of angst/hurt and then comfort, pleaaase <3

Where the Hell Have You Been?

pairing: jennifer jareau x daughter reader

category: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

word count: 836

age: 16

summary: you don't come home until the next morning after prom and your mom is worried sick

a/n: it's giving rory and dean from gilmore girls

"Shit shit shit shit shit!" I nearly ripped my hair out of my head when I looked at the time. My kind of boyfriend was asleep beside me in his car and it was 5 in the morning. I was supposed to be home by 1. I had 13 missed calls from my mom and about 90 texts. This wasn't going to end well. "Jace...Jace wake up." I practically slapped him in the face.

"What...huh?" He rubbed his eyes groggily.

"I need you to drive me home right now."

"Oh shit." He saw the time and his eyes widened. "Ok yeah."

"Oh fuck. My mom's going to be so mad."

"Don't worry. I'll explain everything to her-"

"You will not say anything. She cannot see you she will kill you and I would really rather you not die."

"Ok...yeah I like that idea."

He dropped me off at my house and then sped off. I picked my dress up so it didn't get wet and then knocked on the front door. It was immediately answered on the second knock. "Where the hell have you been?" My mom's voice was stern and her eyes were icy. She was really fucking mad.

"I-I'm so sorry, I fell asleep i-in his car a-and I just woke up ten minutes ago, I'm so sorry mom!" I exclaimed. She dragged me into the house by my wrist and slammed the door behind me.

"I was worried sick about you, you know that? I thought you were kidnapped or that you were dead or maybe he raped you. I didn't sleep!"

"I'm sorry!" I sobbed. "I didn't mean to, I really didn't mean to!" I sat down on the couch and held my head in my hands.

"No phone for a month. You are not going out with that boy ever again-"

"Mom no-"

"Yes. I didn't know where you were for four hours. It was the middle of the night, you were not answering your phone, nobody knew where you were." I covered my ears as she raised her voice.

"Mom stop." My voice was barely a whisper so she couldn't hear me. She kept scolding me, telling me how stupid it was and how worried she was. "Mom stop!" I exclaimed, my hands shaking a bit. She immediately shut her mouth and looked down at me. "I'm sorry, ok? I'm sorry. I really didn't mean it and I didn't mean to scare you and I'm so sorry, it'll never happen again just please stop yelling."

"Oh honey." Her voice softened immensely as she knelt down in front of me. "Honey, I'm sorry." She gently grabbed my face, caressing my cheeks while lifting my head so I was looking up at her. "I'm sorry baby I didn't mean to yell."

"It was an accident." I whispered. "I really didn't mean to." She leaned forward so our foreheads were touching before tilting her head up to kiss my forehead. "I'm so sorry-"

"Stop apologizing baby." She kissed my forehead again. "It's ok. I'm not mad."

"Then why were you yelling?"

"I was worried sick and I was taking that out on you, I'm so sorry." She stopped holding my face and instead rubbed my thighs. "I'm your mom, it's my job to worry, ok? I'm so sorry for yelling at you like that." I nodded. "Now are you ok? Did anything happen?" I shook my head.

"Nothing happened."

"Good. Oh God I'm so glad to hear that." She sighed in relief and wiped away my tears before wiping away her own. "I love you so much sweetheart, I just really want you to be safe and I was so scared that you weren't safe, you know? With all I see at my job, when something bad happens I automatically think it's something really bad."

"Yeah I get it." I sniffled.

"I'm so sorry for yelling." She whispered. "I don't know what got into me, I'm really sorry." I nodded.

"It's ok."

"It's not ok-"

"Mom can we please not do this right now? I'm really tired and I just want to sleep." She nodded and helped me stand up. "You can stay with me though. I missed you. I wanted to tell you all about last night but now I'm just...super fucking tired."

She held my hand while walking upstairs to my room. I plopped down on my bed without taking my dress off. "Wanna take it off? It's gonna get wrinkled." She pointed out. I just nodded and stood up so she could unzip me. I undressed in front of her, not really caring since she was my mom and she was already in my bed, facing the wall.

"I really am sorry." I said again. "It won't happen again. I promise." She draped her arm over my waist and pulled me close to her.

"I know honey. You don't have to keep apologizing, ok? I understand." She kissed the back of my head. "I love you."

"I love you too."