#to the tension in his arm getting released when he realised whats happening

[seriiousgiirl]

𝐼𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 — 𝒢𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓉𝓎 𝒫𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁𝒿𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓈𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓍 𝓉𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓇!𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇.⊹ ₊ ݁.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 . ⊹ ₊ ݁. alternate universe - canon divergence, post-silent Hill 2, angst and fluff and smut, touch-starved, redemption, grief, mourning, psychological trauma and horror, mutual pining, James adopted Laura, age difference, smut, vaginal sex, rough sex, rough kissing, aftercare, daddy kink, James deserves his happy ending, James is desperate and pathetic, based on the Silent Hill Games and mostly the remake

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 . ⊹ ₊ ݁. I'm so sorry.

❛ Part 1 ⋅ Part 4 ⋅ masterlist ⋅ ao3 ⋅ requests ⋅ requests ❜

➜ ┊ a/n: Dear Readers! Thank you so much for taking the time to comment on my story! Your words mean the world to me and have truly brightened my day. Knowing that my work resonated with you is the best kind of motivation and keeps me excited to continue writing. Your support makes this story even more special, and I can't wait to share more with you. Thank you again for reading, commenting, and being part of this experience. It really means more than I can say!

➜ ┊: chapter 3/?.

When James woke up, it was to the blaring sound of his alarm, startling him from the thin veil of sleep he’d managed to slip into. The red numbers on the clock glowed harshly in the dark: 7 a.m. 

He blinked, disoriented, his body heavy with the remnants of exhaustion. But for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he had slept through the night. The realisation brought an unexpected wave of relief. He sighed softly, feeling the tension in his muscles begin to release, the rare moment of peace filling him with something like gratitude. Maybe the nightmares were finally letting him go.

He moved to get out of bed, but before he could even shift the covers, a sudden pressure gripped his throat. His breath hitched violently as he was shoved back against the mattress, the force pinning him down like an iron vise. Panic shot through him like a jolt of electricity, his hands instinctively flying to his throat to fight off whatever was holding him. His heart raced as his eyes flew open, and in the dim light of the room, he saw it. 

Him.

The towering figure of Pyramid Head loomed over him, its massive form blocking out everything else, its presence suffocating and oppressive. The weight of its hand pressed down on James’s throat with merciless strength, each thick finger wrapped around his neck like a vice.

James's breath came in short, panicked bursts as he struggled to free himself. His hands clawed at the creature’s arm, fingers digging into the cold, slick surface of its flesh, but it was like trying to move a mountain. The Pyramid Head didn’t budge. He didn’t flinch. He was as immovable as stone, watching James struggle beneath him with that same terrifying stillness.

James's vision blurred at the edges as the lack of air began to take its toll. His mind raced in frantic circles, trying to make sense of what was happening. This can't be real, he thought, but the crushing pain in his throat told him otherwise. Every attempt to fight back was futile, his strength draining faster with every passing second.

Desperate, James let out a strangled cry, his voice hoarse and broken. It felt like his lungs were on fire, the pressure mounting with every beat of his heart, but the Pyramid Head’s grip never loosened. It was relentless, unwavering. The monster's strength was absolute, and James could feel his own slipping away.

But then something changed.

The Pyramid Head let out a deep, guttural grunt, a sound so raw and visceral that it sent a shiver through James's already trembling body. The sound was filled with pain—its pain. For a moment, the monster’s grip tightened even further, and then it paused. The creature's head twitched slightly, its movements slow, almost hesitant, as though it was fighting something inside itself.

James gasped for breath, trying to make sense of what was happening. Why is it hesitating? The agony coursing through his throat was unbearable, but there was something different now—a strange, shared torment that wasn’t just his own. It felt like the Pyramid Head was suffering alongside him, trapped in the same unbearable anguish. 

James’s mind reeled. He wasn’t just being punished. He was being mirrored. The pain, the desperation, the weight of everything crashing down on him—it wasn’t just his alone anymore. It was their pain. 

As his vision continued to darken, James felt his strength fading. His hands, still clawing at the creature’s arm, began to weaken, his muscles giving in to the exhaustion. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, each pulse slower than the last. The room around him seemed to blur, the edges of reality slipping away.

Yet, through it all, he could still hear it—the agonising grunt of the Pyramid Head, its silent suffering intertwining with his own. His thoughts were scrambled, fragmented memories flashing before his eyes. Mary. Silent Hill. The sins he could never atone for, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him like the very hand around his throat. 

Was this his punishment? His eternal reminder of what he had done?

That was it? There was no escape, no way out. 

And then, just as his vision blurred completely, the hand around his throat... loosened.

"James?"

The sound of Laura’s voice cut through the suffocating haze, sharp and clear. His eyes flew open, and he was no longer beneath the crushing weight of Pyramid Head’s hand. Instead, he was in his bed, drenched in sweat, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he gasped for breath. The bedroom was still cloaked in darkness, but the nightmare had loosened its grip, retreating back into the recesses of his mind.

James blinked, disoriented, trying to focus on the small figure standing by his bed. His eyes darted towards the clock: 3 am. His heart hammered violently in his chest, the remnants of fear and panic still clawing at him, but the world around him was real again. It was a dream... just a dream.

Laura stood at the edge of the bed, her wide blue eyes staring up at him with concern. Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her pyjama shirt, the innocence in her face a stark contrast to the terror he had just experienced.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, her voice laced with worry. "You were... making weird noises."

James swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing. He sat up slowly, running a shaky hand over his face, wiping away the cold sweat that clung to his skin. His throat still felt tight, as if the hand of the nightmare had left a lingering imprint.

"Yeah," he rasped, his voice hoarse and strained. "I'm okay. Just... just a bad dream."

Laura frowned, not entirely convinced. She stepped closer to the bed, her gaze still fixed on him. "Are you sure? It sounded really bad."

James forced a weak smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "It was just a dream," he repeated, hoping the words would somehow make it feel less real. But the weight of the nightmare still pressed down on him, the image of Pyramid Head looming over him burned into his mind—he hadn’t seen it so clearly in the past three years.

Laura hesitated for a moment, then sat on the edge of the bed. "You don’t have to be scared," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "It's gone now."

James looked at her, his heart twisting at the sight of her small figure sitting there, trying to offer him comfort. She shouldn’t have to do that—shouldn’t have to worry about him. He was the one who was supposed to protect her, not the other way around. He took a deep breath, trying to pull himself together. "Thanks, Laura," he murmured. "But I’m fine, really. Just... tired."

She nodded slowly, but her eyes didn’t leave him. "You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to," she added, her voice gentle, "but I’m here if you need to."

Her words, so innocent and sincere, tugged at something deep within James. He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I know," he said quietly. "Thank you."

Laura gave him a small smile, "Okay," she said, "but you should try to sleep again. I don’t want you to be grumpy in the morning."

James chuckled softly, a faint glimmer of warmth breaking through the lingering cold of the nightmare. "I’ll try," he promised.

Laura lingered at the door longer than usual, shifting nervously on her feet. James noticed the way she hesitated, her small fingers gripping the edge of the doorframe as if she was weighing her words.

"Dad..." she began softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Can I... Can I sleep here with you tonight?"

James looked at her, surprised by the question. She usually slept fine on her own, her confidence never wavering, but tonight there was something different—something in the way she looked at him, as if she wanted to make sure he would be okay. His heart clenched. He wanted to say no, to tell her she didn’t have to worry about him, that he could handle it. But as he looked into her concerned eyes, the words died on his tongue. 

He didn’t have the strength to refuse her. He didn’t want to.

James nodded, his voice soft. "Yeah... sure. Come on."

Laura smiled, a small, relieved smile, and without hesitation, she padded over to the bed. She climbed up and settled herself on the other side, her small body sinking into the mattress. James shifted over, making space for her, and pulled the blanket over both of them. The bed felt different with her there, warmer in a way that chased away some of the lingering coldness from his nightmare.

She lay on her side, facing him, her eyes blinking up at him sleepily. "Thanks," she mumbled, her voice thick with drowsiness. "I’ll stay quiet. I promise."

James smiled faintly at her words, knowing that she wasn’t the one who needed to be quiet. He nodded, his heart a little lighter now. "It's okay. Get some rest, sweetie."

She closed her eyes, nestling into the pillow, and within moments her breathing started to slow. It didn’t take long before she drifted off, the tension in her small body easing as sleep took her.

James stayed awake for a while longer, looking at her fondly, listening to the steady rhythm of Laura’s breathing beside him. The nightmare still clawed at the edges of his mind, but with Laura next to him, it didn’t feel as heavy—didn’t feel as suffocating.

Just as he thought she had fallen asleep, Laura's voice piped up, soft yet curious. "James?"

He opened his eyes slightly, glancing at her. "Yeah?"

"You know, Y/n?" she asked, her voice still sleepy but curious. "I think she likes you a lot."

James chuckled softly, trying to keep the mood light despite the weight of his own emotions. "You promised to be quiet, remember?"

Laura ignored his teasing, "But really! You two talk a lot after school. It's like... you're friends or something."

James felt a warmth spread through him, but guilt quickly followed. "Laura, she's just being nice. It’s part of her job."

"But it feels different," Laura insisted, her eyes brightening. "I mean, she listens to you, and you look at her like she’s really special."

James shifted uncomfortably unsure how to respond—was he really that obvious? "It's not like that, kiddo."

Laura pouted, clearly not convinced. "You should ask her out! It would be fun."

"Let’s not rush into things, okay?" he said, trying to divert the conversation. "Get some sleep."

But Laura's enthusiasm remained undeterred. "Just think about it, James. You could be happy again."

───────────────

James could hardly believe the morning he was having as he pulled into the school parking lot. The sun hung low in the sky, illuminating the campus with a golden glow, but the warmth did little to ease the chill in his chest. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard, his heart sinking when he realised how late it was. 10 am. A knot of anxiety tightened in his stomach as he replayed the events of the morning in his mind.

He was usually a master of routine, a creature of habit who thrived on early mornings filled with journaling and quiet reflection. Each day began with his insomnia, a reminder that he needed to confront his thoughts and feelings before they overwhelmed him. Then, his alarm would uselessly ring—signalling it was time to get ready for work. But this morning had slipped through his fingers like sand, leaving him disoriented and breathless. He had woken up to find Laura sprawled across him, her small form curled up against his side, blissfully asleep. 

For a fleeting moment, he had thought it was a dream, the sunlight streaming through the window and filling the room with a golden hue. But as he shifted to sit up, he felt her weight shift, and a wave of panic washed over him when he glanced at the clock and saw that it was already past what was supposed to be his alarm. 

He cursed himself for letting time slip away, for not managing to wake up on time.

It was the first time in… he couldn’t even remember.

Now, here he was, late for dropping Laura off at school, the first hours of class already long gone. As he stepped out of the car, he took a deep breath to steady himself, but the air felt heavy, suffocating in its stillness. The laughter and shouts of children drifted from the playground, where kids were already enjoying their break.

James's heart raced as he walked Laura to the entrance, her small hand in his, each step heavy with the guilt of not having given her a proper start to her day. "Alright, kiddo," he said, kneeling down to her level. He brushed a stray hair from her forehead, his thumb lingering on her cheek for just a moment. 

“Have a great day at school. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Laura beamed up at him, her eyes sparkling with youthful energy, unbothered by his stress. “Okay! Bye, James!” she called out, her voice ringing with innocence as she dashed toward her friends. The sight of her running off filled him with a mix of pride and sadness, knowing that she was growing up too fast and he was struggling to keep pace.

As he turned to leave, still feeling the weight of guilt on his shoulders, he heard a familiar—sweet voice call out to him from behind. “James! Wait!”

You were standing by the school entrance, your expression a blend of concern and curiosity as you hurried over. The way your brow furrowed slightly over your pretty face made his heart race, a mixture of anxiety and something deeper rising in his chest. He paused, turning to face you, breathless from the rush of the morning and the unexpected tightness in his throat.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, your voice soft yet probing, as if you could sense the turmoil churning beneath his surface. Your eyes searched his, and for a moment, he felt as though you could see right through him, peeling back the layers of his façade.

James hesitated, his gaze dropping to the curves of your lips then to the ground, avoiding your eyes. The weight of your question hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the tangled emotions he was struggling to untangle. He felt a flush creep up his neck as memories of the previous night rushed back. The sinful images of you lingered in his mind, and he couldn’t shake the shame that clung to him like a shadow.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, though the lie felt thin and unconvincing even to him. He could feel the heat in his cheeks as he recalled how he had crossed a line he never thought he would, the memory of touching himself to the thought of you still vivid in his mind. The pleasure had felt so—so good, so real, and it had terrified him. 

“Really?” you pressed, raising an eyebrow. “Because I sent you a text this morning. I thought something might be wrong, but you didn’t respond.” 

James finally glanced up at you, guilt washing over him. He opened his mouth to respond but then closed it again, fumbling for the right words. “I don’t check my phone a lot,” he replied finally, his voice barely above a whisper. It felt like a lame excuse, but it was the truth. “I slept in, and rushed to get to school for Laura.”

“Are you sure that’s it?” you asked, tilting your head slightly as you studied him. “You can talk to me, you know.” 

His heart raced, a tempest of emotions swirling inside him. He couldn’t meet your gaze; the shame was too much. The way you cared about him felt like a gift and a curse all at once. James felt a twinge of shame, but it was quickly replaced by a darker, more intense emotion. He wanted to show you the depths of his desires, to make you understand the forbidden fantasies that consumed his thoughts, maddening him. But he knew he couldn't. 

He had to play the part of the noble, kind dad, even if it meant hiding his true nature.

“It’s just… a lot on my mind,” he finally admitted, his voice heavy with unspoken burdens. “Things have been complicated lately.”

Your expression softened, and for a moment, he felt the tension ease just a fraction. “You can trust me, James. I’m here for you. But you need to let me in,” you urged gently, a plea wrapped in kindness.

But could he let you in? The thought made his stomach churn. “I appreciate that,” he said, his voice low, “but I really don’t want to drag you into my mess.” 

You crossed your arms, your gaze unwavering. “You’re not dragging me anywhere. I care about you, and I want to help. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

James felt the heat of shame rise again, and he struggled to push it back down. How could he look you in the eyes, knowing the truth about his thoughts? He wanted to be strong for you, to be the man you could, at least, trust. But all he felt was weakness, and the weight of his guilt settled on his chest like a lead blanket.

“Maybe it’s just a phase,” he murmured, finally managing to meet your eyes for a brief moment. But the intensity of your gaze made him falter, and he looked away again, unable to face the truth of what he was feeling. “I’m just… working through things.”

Your silence spoke volumes, the unyielding concern in your eyes making his heart ache. He wished he could explain everything, but how could he possibly share the darker parts of himself with someone like you? 

“Just… promise me you’ll reach out if you need anything, okay?” you finally said, breaking the tension. “I’m serious, James.”

He nodded, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air. “I promise,” he replied, though a part of him knew that it was easier said than done. 

As you turned to walk away, he felt a pang of regret that he hadn’t opened up more. But the fear of crossing that invisible line held him back. James watches you walk away, the subtle sway of your hips and the gentle curve of your waist etched in his mind. He feels a surge of longing, a desperate desire to reach out and pull you back, and confess his sins. His cock twitches, already half-hard from the mere thought of you.

"Fuck—Y/n," he mutters under his breath, "Why do you have to be so damn irresistible?"

───────────────

As the clock ticked closer to the end of the workday, James sat at his desk, staring blankly at the scattered papers before him. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered slightly, casting a sterile glow over the room that felt almost suffocating. He felt like a ghost, floating through the motions of his job, answering emails and attending meetings without really being present. Today, he was just a shadow of a man—or, accurately, more so than usual.

People had noticed, of course. Colleagues shot him concerned glances, occasionally asking if he was okay or if he needed anything. Each time, he forced a smile, shaking his head and offering a noncommittal “I’m fine.” But inside, turmoil brewed, like a storm waiting to break. The night had been particularly gruelling, filled with restless dreams that dragged him back into the depths of his mind, reliving memories he wished he could forget. 

It was one of those days when the weight of his past felt heavier, the shadows of his choices creeping closer. He thought of the bottle—his old friend during those dark moments when he felt utterly helpless. The memories of late nights spent drowning his sorrows flashed before him, the blurry faces of friends and the muffled laughter that felt so far away now. Back then, the alcohol had numbed the pain, the overwhelming ache of watching Mary suffer, feeling so utterly powerless to change anything. Those memories clung to him like a shroud, and the shame of his past habits stung like an old wound.

The image of her pale face haunted him, the way she had looked in those final months—fragile and thin, her laughter replaced by the echoes of hospital machinery. He remembered how her eyes had once sparkled with life, but now they were often clouded with pain and confusion. The sight of her suffering had been a visceral blow, each moment a reminder of his helplessness. 

He could have fought against the world, against fate itself—and literally did. But in the end, it hadn’t mattered. 

It has been too late.

But the truth weighed heavily on his heart. He felt the ghost of Mary’s disappointment in every corner of his mind, a reminder that he could have been better, when she was still alive. 

James felt a familiar ache in his heart as he thought of the countless nights spent sitting by her bedside, holding her hand as she drifted in and out of sleep. Each breath she took felt like a precious gift, and yet it was always laced with the knowledge that it could be the last. The feeling of despair had washed over him like a tide, threatening to pull him under. Those moments had changed him irrevocably, carving deep lines of sorrow into his soul.

He had retreated into himself during those difficult months, drowning in his own despair. The nights had been the worst. He would pour himself a drink—a bottle even, hoping it would drown out the pain, hoping it would help him forget the image of Mary lying in that hospital bed, frail and pale.

Today, he couldn’t afford to give in. He had Laura now, and he knew that drinking would only lead him down a path he was desperate to avoid. If he allowed those demons back in, he could destroy everything he was trying to build for her. The thought sent a chill through him; he couldn’t bear the idea of failing her, of becoming the man he once was. It was a battle he had fought before, and he felt the scars of that struggle etched deep within him. 

As the final minutes of his workday ticked away, he gathered his belongings, stuffing them into his bag with a quickness that belied his earlier lethargy. The anticipation of picking her up sparked something inside him.

Walking through the office, he exchanged polite nods with coworkers who asked about his weekend plans or made small talk about the weather. He felt detached from it all, their chatter a distant hum that faded as he focused on the rhythm of his heartbeat. With each step toward the door, the heaviness in his chest lightened just a fraction. 

As he arrived at the school, the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden hue over the playground where children laughed and played. He parked the car and stepped out, adjusting his khaki jack as if it was his armour.

As he walked toward the school building, he caught sight of her, laughing with a group of friends, her blonde hair catching the light as she spun around. In that moment, everything felt right. He made his way over, feeling the corners of his mouth lift in a smile that had been absent for too long. 

“Hey, kiddo!” he called out, and her head whipped around, a huge grin spreading across her face. 

“James!” she shouted, dashing toward him and throwing her arms around his waist. 

The embrace was everything. In that simple moment, the weight of his struggles fell away, replaced by the warmth of her affection. He lifted her up, spinning her around as she squealed with delight, the sound a balm for his troubled soul. “Did you have a good day?” he asked, setting her down but keeping his hands on her shoulders.

“Yeah! We did art today, and I made a drawing for you!” She beamed, her excitement infectious.

He smiled warmly, “I can’t wait to see. Do you know where Y/n is? Perhaps… Well, I could thank her for encouraging my little artist.” He says, casually trying to mask his curiosity and neediness. 

Laura’s smirk was instantaneous, a glint of mischief in her eyes. She cast him a knowing glance, as if she were privy to some secret that he was oblivious to. James felt his cheeks warm slightly, caught off guard by her expression. Did she think he was being too obvious? He quickly focused on her, hoping to deflect any teasing that might come his way. Before he could say anything else, he caught movement in his peripheral vision. 

You appeared, walking toward them, and a wave of relief washed over him. The way you carried yourself—so pretty and poised, your hair catching the light, made his heart race. As you lifted your hand in a gentle wave, he instinctively returned the gesture, his smile widening as he did.

Laura observed the exchange, her smirk growing wider as she clearly relished the moment. “Y/n!” she called out, her voice laced with playful energy. “Come over here!”

You approached, and James felt a rush of warmth at the sight of you. It was as if your presence illuminated the space around him, chasing away the shadows that had lingered throughout his day. Laura looked back and forth between the two of you, her eyes sparkling with mischief as if she knew something he didn’t.

“Looks like someone was missing you,” Laura teased, nudging him playfully.

James shot her a warning glance, but the warmth in his cheeks betrayed him. He couldn’t deny it; he had been thinking about you. As you drew closer, he felt a mix of excitement and anxiety bubbling within him. The air crackled with unspoken words, and he couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before he could find the courage to say what was really on his mind.

“Hey James,” you said, your voice bright and inviting. “I just finished my class. What are you two up to?”

James found himself momentarily lost in your gentle gaze, his thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. He opened his mouth to respond, but Laura beat him to it, her teasing nature coming alive. “We were just talking about you! James was wondering where you were.”

He shot Laura a look of disbelief, his mind racing as he tried to recover from the unexpected confession. But your smile only widened, and he felt a thrill of warmth spread through him. Maybe this interaction wouldn’t be so bad after all. “Really?” you replied, tilting your head slightly as you met his eyes. There was a playful curiosity in your expression, and he suddenly felt vulnerable under your gaze.

“Uh, yeah…” he stammered, fumbling for the right words as he tried to shake off the flustered feeling. “I was just… curious.”

Laura was practically beaming, clearly enjoying this. “Curious, huh?”

James felt his heart race, embarrassment creeping up on him. “It’s not like that,” he protested weakly. James felt his cheeks heat again as you chuckled softly, the sound sending a thrill through him. This was supposed to be a simple pickup, yet the dynamic felt charged, filled with possibilities that hung in the air between the three of you.

“Anyway, what are you two up to?” you asked again, your tone light, but he sensed the underlying curiosity as you glanced at Laura.

“It’s time to head home and James says he will cook some pizzas,” Laura replied. “You should join us! It’ll be fun!”

James’s heart raced at the thought of spending more time with you, but he hesitated, unsure of how to navigate this moment. Yet, as he looked at you, he felt an urge to say yes, to perhaps—embrace the connection that had begun to blossom between you.

“Yeah, that sounds great,” he finally managed, feeling a flicker of hope ignite within him. Maybe this was a step toward something more, something he had longed for but had been too afraid to pursue. 

But then you smiled back—that damn smile he couldn’t resist.

As the conversation flowed, James felt a sense of ease he hadn’t anticipated. And just like that, he found himself sharing his address with you, his voice steady despite the fluttering in his chest.  “You can come over for dinner anytime you want,” he said, trying to sound casual but secretly hoping you’d take him up on the offer. 

You nodded happily, a bright smile lighting up your face, and it made something warm bloom in his chest. “I’d love that,” you replied, your eyes sparkling with excitement. “See you later, then?”

With a final wave, you parted ways. As James drove home with Laura, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. For the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of hope—which was surprising considering the mindset he had started the day with. 

Once home, James quickly changed into more comfortable clothes, shedding his jacket and loosening his tie. He could hear Laura humming to herself in the living room as she played, her excitement palpable at the thought of having you over. It felt surreal to think of someone else in their space. 

Since they had found this home, it had always been just the two of them—James and Laura, along with the lingering shadows of his past that seemed to haunt every corner. Laura’s beaming smile was infectious as she darted around, setting up her toys in preparation for dinner. “I can’t wait to show Y/n my drawings!” she exclaimed. 

James couldn’t help but smile back, but there was a bittersweet edge to his joy. “I’m sure she’ll be pleased.”

With a resigned sigh, he set to work in the kitchen, pulling out the ingredients to make the pizzas. He rolled the dough, meticulously spreading the sauce, layering cheese, and sprinkling toppings. Each movement was methodical and precise,  and once the pizzas were in the oven, James leaned against the counter, staring into the heat.  

Just then, the doorbell rang, breaking him from his reverie.

He wiped his hands on a towel, glancing toward the living room to see Laura perk up, her excitement radiating as she bounced on her feet, leaving her dolls aside. “It’s Y/n!” she squealed, racing to the door before he could react. 

James hesitated for a brief moment, lingering behind Laura as she flung the door open with childlike excitement. His nerves tingled, tension building in his chest as he prepared for whatever was about to unfold. And then there you were, standing in the doorway, framed by the fading light of the evening, your smile so warm it seemed to chase away the gloom that clung to him.

You looked... radiant. James couldn’t help but wonder how you always managed to look so effortlessly beautiful, no matter the occasion. It wasn’t just tonight; he realised, in all the years you had been teaching Laura, not once had he thought of you as anything but pretty. Whether it was seeing you in the classroom or running into you at a school event, there was something about you that always caught his eye—your soft smile, the way you carried yourself, the kindness in your voice. It had always been there, even when he was too lost in his own grief to notice.

But now, standing in the doorway of his home, the feeling was different. The warmth of your smile didn’t just pull him in—it melted something inside him. 

"Hi," you greeted softly, that same spark of warmth in your voice, and it made something stir in his chest. He nodded, returning the greeting a little more awkwardly than he'd intended.

“Hey,” James finally managed, his voice rougher than he’d expected. Laura was already tugging you inside, eagerly talking about the pizza and her day at school, but James stayed still for a moment, just watching as you stepped into the space that had always been reserved for him and his daughter.

His mind raced, and for a fleeting second, he wondered what you saw when you looked at him. Did you see the tired, worn-down man he had become? Or did you sense the heaviness he carried? He felt a little off balance—vulnerable, in a way he hadn't expected. 

And yet, here you were, stepping into his home, into his world.

The smell of pizza filled the air, a warm and familiar scent that seemed to relax everyone as the three of you sat around the small dining table. James had set out plates while Laura eagerly chattered, her voice filling the room with energy. You had settled in effortlessly, your presence a surprising but welcome contrast to the usual quiet of their dinners.

"Pizza's looking good," you commented with a smile, watching as James carefully cut a slice. Laura nodded enthusiastically, practically bouncing in her seat. 

"Yeah, James makes the best pizza!" Laura grinned, reaching for a slice as soon as James slid it onto her plate. "He used to let me put the toppings on, but I kinda put way too much cheese last time."

James chuckled softly, the sound rare but genuine. “You really buried the pizza under a mountain of it. Could barely taste anything else.”

You laughed along, glancing at him. “Sounds like Laura knows how to make pizza fun, though. Maybe next time I can help out, too.”

James paused for a second, caught off guard by the casual offer. “Yeah... maybe,” he said, the corners of his mouth pulling into a slight smile as he looked down at his plate.

Laura, ever the observer, noticed and jumped in, her eyes flicking between the two of you. “You should! We could have pizza parties!” She beamed, clearly excited at the prospect. “James, don’t you think that’d be awesome?”

James looked at her and then at you, feeling the warmth of Laura's excitement. “Yeah,” he finally said, nodding. “It could be nice.”

You smiled back, the ease of the conversation making the room feel lighter and James’ heart missing a beat. “Well, I’m always up for a pizza party. It’s kind of hard to say no to pizza.”

Laura took a big bite and looked at both of you with a mischievous grin. “See, James? I told you she’d be cool with it.”

The way Laura was looking at you two didn’t escape James, and he felt his face grow warm. The last thing he expected tonight was for you to become such a natural part of their evening, but there you were—laughing with his daughter, making things feel... normal.

As the meal continued, the conversation shifted between Laura’s day at school and little stories that you shared. At one point, Laura proudly announced that she’d scored well on a recent maths test, which made James beam with pride. “She’s doing really well in class,” you added, glancing at James. “She’s smart and determined. You’ve raised a great kid.”

James looked down at his plate, something tightening in his chest. He didn’t feel like he deserved credit for that, not after everything, but hearing it from you made him feel... lighter. “Thanks,” he said, his voice quieter. “It’s mostly her. She’s always been bright.”

Laura, oblivious to the weight of the moment, kept eating happily, but you caught the subtle shift in James’ tone. You didn’t push, though, just offered a kind smile and continued the conversation, giving him space to be in his thoughts. Eventually, Laura leaned back in her chair, full and content, her eyes flicking to the clock. 

"Can I go play for a bit before bed?" she asked, giving both you and James a hopeful look.

James nodded. "Just for a little while," he said, and she shot out of her chair, racing off to the living room. 

That left the two of you alone at the table. The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was something palpable about it. James glanced at you, unsure of what to say. 

“You really do make good pizza,” you said, breaking the quiet with a soft smile.

“Thanks,” James replied, feeling a bit more relaxed. “Used to make it a lot more... back then.”

You noticed the way his voice shifted but didn’t press him. “Well, I’m glad you made it tonight.”

There was a pause, and James looked at you again, something unspoken hanging between you. It was as if both of you felt the weight of the moment but weren’t quite ready to acknowledge it. 

He cleared his throat, standing up and collecting the plates. “You want any more?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

“No, I’m good,” you said, your voice light but your gaze steady on him.

As James moved around the kitchen, washing the plates, he couldn’t help but glance back at you every now and then. You were sitting quietly, but the way you were here, in his home, sharing this meal—it felt strange, but in a good way.  A part of him, the part he kept buried deep down, almost didn’t want the night to end.

After another trivial discussion and the plates were washed and put away, the evening began to wind down. Laura, still buzzing with the joy of having you over, had reluctantly agreed to get ready for bed. She came out in her pyjamas, clutching a book close to her chest, her green eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Can Y/n read me my story tonight?” she asked, her voice hopeful as she looked between you and James.

James hesitated, unsure if you’d want to stick around any longer. He felt like he’d already taken up so much of your time. But before he could say anything, you smiled warmly at Laura.

“Of course, I’d love to,” you said, and James felt his heart tighten in his chest. 

You followed Laura to her room, and James trailed behind, lingering in the doorway. He watched as you sat on the edge of Laura’s bed, the book resting in your lap as Laura snuggled into her blankets, her eyes wide with anticipation.  The moment felt almost surreal—too normal, too peaceful. It was something James hadn’t experienced in what felt like a lifetime, this quiet domesticity. And it scared him. 

As you began reading, your voice gentle and soothing, James leaned against the doorframe, his eyes drifting from the book in your hands to your face. The soft glow from Laura’s bedside lamp cast a warm light over you, making you seem almost ethereal. He tried not to stare, tried not to let his mind wander, but it was impossible. There was something about the way you read, the way you interacted with Laura, that tugged at something deep within him.

You would be a good mother, he caught himself thinking, and the realisation hit him harder than he expected. 

James swallowed hard, his chest tightening as guilt crept in. He shouldn’t be feeling this way. Not about you. Not about anyone. He’d already crossed too many lines, already indulged in thoughts and feelings that he had no right to. 

He thought about Mary then. How he had never really wanted children, never really allowed himself to consider it. It had always been a silent, unspoken disagreement between them, never fully addressed but understood. They’d dodged the conversation for years—he told himself it was for the best. Mary was too sick, their lives too complicated. But deep down, he knew the truth: he had been afraid. Afraid that he wouldn’t be able to handle it, afraid that he would fail as a father the way he had felt like he was failing as a husband.

But now, looking at Laura, listening to the sound of your voice as you read to her, James couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted inside him. Laura had changed everything. He hadn’t been ready for her, hadn’t wanted her at first, but she had become his lifeline. And now, with you here, reading to her, it felt like some part of him was waking up that he had long buried.

And it scared him.

He clenched his fists, trying to ground himself, but the sound of your voice, the softness in your tone as you read, pulled him back into the moment. He wanted this. He hated how much he wanted it—wanted you, but the desire was there, clawing at him. This wasn't just about Laura. It was about you. The thought of sharing a future, of having something more than the emptiness he had known for years.

James tried to remind himself of everything that had happened. Of who he was. Of what he’d done. But the more he tried to push those thoughts away, the more he found himself indulging in the present. In the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he could have something different now.

But even as he chastised himself, he couldn’t look away. He couldn’t stop the way his heart beat a little faster when you smiled or the way his breath caught when your eyes flicked up to meet his for the briefest of moments as you read aloud. He felt like a monster. Like he was betraying everything he’d once held dear. Yet here he was, standing in the doorway of his daughter’s room, watching you with a longing he couldn’t ignore.

The worst part was that it wasn’t just about the physical and sexual attraction anymore. It was more than that. He admired the way you cared for Laura, the way you brought light into a room without even trying. You made things feel... bearable. 

And that terrified him.

He barely noticed when the story ended until Laura’s voice broke through the fog in his mind. 

“That was great!” she said, beaming at you as she settled deeper into her blankets. “Thanks, Y/n.”

“You’re welcome,” you said, your voice soft, giving Laura a gentle smile before standing up from the bed.

James straightened up, trying to compose himself as you turned toward the door. Laura yawned, stretching out her arms before looking at both of you with sleepy eyes. 

“Goodnight, James. Goodnight, Y/n,” she murmured, her voice growing quieter as she drifted off.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” James replied, his voice hoarse. He stepped aside as you moved toward the door, giving you space.

As the two of you stepped out of Laura’s room, closing the door gently behind you, the silence between you felt heavy. James glanced at you, then quickly looked away, unsure of what to say or how to even begin to process what he was feeling.

“Thanks for reading to her,” he finally managed, his voice low.

“It was my pleasure,” you replied, smiling softly. 

James couldn’t meet your gaze for more than a second before the guilt washed over him again. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve any of it. But despite all the reasons he gave himself, despite the self-loathing that filled him, he couldn’t shake the warmth that your presence brought.

James stood at the door for a long moment, torn between the overwhelming urge to ask you to leave and the inexplicable desire to keep you close, just a little longer. It was late, far too late, and he knew that. He parted his lips, ready to say the words: It’s getting late, you should probably go. But instead, what came out surprised even him.

"Would you... like to stay for a coffee?"

The words hung in the air for a second too long, and James immediately regretted them. What was he doing? But you smiled warmly, nodding without hesitation. "Sure, I'd love that," you said, and he could only nod back in response, still a little shaken by his own decision.

"Make yourself comfortable in the living room," he muttered, gesturing toward the door. "I'll... brew some coffee."

You gave a small nod and quietly slipped past him, heading toward the living room. James watched you go for a moment, feeling a nervous tension building in his chest before he shook it off and turned toward the kitchen. As he filled the coffee pot with water and measured out the grounds, his mind raced with what-ifs and doubts.

By the time the coffee was ready, the smell of it filling the small apartment, he felt his heart thudding against his ribs. He placed the mugs on a tray, feeling the weight of the simple act—sharing a moment with someone that wasn’t stained by the past.

But when he stepped into the living room, he froze.

You were standing by the shelf, your gaze fixed on a photo. His heart sank as he followed your line of sight, his stomach churning. It was Mary's picture—the one he had placed there after everything had happened, as a permanent reminder of what he'd lost. Her face, smiling, frozen in time.

For a moment, everything else disappeared, and all James could feel was the crushing weight of guilt. 

You turned as he approached, your expression soft, understanding, as if you knew the heavy silence that had settled between you both. "She is beautiful," you said gently, offering the words like a balm to soothe the raw wound the sight of that photo had just opened. 

James swallowed hard, feeling his throat tighten. He placed the tray down on the small coffee table and ran a hand through his hair, his voice coming out rougher than he intended.  "Yeah," he whispered, the single word full of years of pain, regret, and memories he could never let go. 

His hands shook slightly as he sat down, unable to look at the photo any longer.

"She was."

You turned toward him, hesitating as your gaze flickered from the framed photograph of the woman on the shelf to James. There was a question in your eyes, but you didn’t know how to ask it, so your voice came out softer than usual, tentative. “Is she...?”

The words hung in the air, unfinished but full of meaning. James knew what you were asking. It was the question everyone skirted around but eventually needed to know. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. His lips parted as if he needed to find the right words, but in the end, there were only the simple, inevitable ones.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice low and rough, almost like it scraped its way out of him. “She’s dead. That was my wife, Mary.”

It still felt strange, even after all these years, to say it out loud. To hear the finality in the word “was.” It wasn’t like the first few months, where he couldn’t even form the sentence, where denial was stronger than acceptance. No, he’d long passed that. But every time he acknowledged it, it was as if he was chiselling away at some part of himself that he couldn’t get back.

You nodded slowly, taking in the weight of his words with an understanding that made him grateful. You didn’t rush in with platitudes, didn’t try to soften the blow with awkward condolences. You just... listened. You let the moment breathe.

But something inside James stirred, like an itch that wouldn’t go away. There was more to the story, more that you didn’t know. Maybe it was because you were here, sitting in his living room, in a space that had only been his and Laura’s, a space haunted by the presence of a woman long gone. Maybe it was because he felt like if he didn’t say these things now, they would continue to fester inside him like a wound that wouldn’t heal.

“Laura,” he began, his voice wavering for a moment. He glanced at you to see if he should continue, but you were still watching him, your expression open and waiting. So, he pressed on.

“She shared a hospital room with Mary.” His eyes drifted away from you, lost in some far-off memory that repeated itself in his mind with painful clarity. “They became... friends, I guess.”

That word, “friends,” felt inadequate for what Mary and Laura had meant to each other. It felt too light, too shallow for the connection they’d shared in that sterile, cold hospital room. 

“Mary,” he continued, his voice tightening with emotion he thought he had buried, “she wanted to adopt her. Laura didn’t have anyone else. No family. Mary thought… when she got better… when she was cured... she wanted to take Laura in.” James let out a bitter laugh, though it was hollow, empty. “But she never got better.”

He finally looked back at you, wondering if you understood what it had all meant. How his entire world had fallen apart in that room, how Mary’s death had left him with not only the guilt of her loss but also the responsibility of a little girl who had no idea how broken he was.

“The least I could do,” James murmured, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to maintain control, “was to honour that part. Take care of Laura, like Mary would’ve wanted. She deserved that much.”

He let out a long breath, feeling as if he’d just opened an old wound, the pain of it sharp and raw again. His fingers twitched as he ran a hand over his face, trying to shake off the heaviness that had settled over him.

“It’s been hard,” he admitted, almost as if he were confessing to himself. “But I owed it to her. To both of them.”

The room felt thick with the weight of his words, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. You didn’t push him, didn’t ask for more than what he was willing to share. And that, somehow, made him feel more vulnerable, like you were offering him a quiet kind of acceptance that he didn’t deserve.

His mind wandered back to the thought he had earlier while watching you with Laura. He’d never really thought about children before, not with Mary. They had avoided that discussion, each for their own reasons. Perhaps Mary had known something deep down—that her illness would make it impossible—or maybe James just hadn’t been ready for that kind of responsibility. He hadn’t known how to be a husband, let alone a father.

But Laura… Laura had changed that. Changed him.

He blinked, realising how long he had been quiet, and looked at you again. You hadn’t moved, still watching him, a gentle understanding in your eyes. For a moment, James considered telling you more, but the words caught in his throat. It felt like too much, too soon. 

The silence stretched between you, thick with the weight of everything James had just revealed. He could feel his heart thudding heavily in his chest, the vulnerability of it all still raw, and part of him wished he could take it all back, bury it again beneath the layers of guilt and grief he was so used to carrying. He didn’t deserve to unburden himself, not after everything he’d done.

But then you spoke, your voice soft, cutting through the stillness like a balm.

"James," you said, and the way you said his name made him pause. There was no pity in your tone, no judgement—just understanding. "You’re such a brave man. I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through. But I’m glad you told me. I understand so much more now… about you, about Laura… everything." You smiled gently, and the warmth of it reached him in a way that made something inside him crack.

James stared at you, the words washing over him like a wave he didn’t know how to brace for. Brave? Him? The notion felt foreign, almost absurd. Brave was the last thing he felt. He felt like a coward, someone who had failed time and time again—failed Mary, failed himself. And yet, here you were, looking at him with such softness, such kindness, like he was worth something more than the mess of a man he’d become.

His throat tightened, the breath catching in his lungs as he struggled to keep the flood of emotions at bay. But your words had reached somewhere deep inside him, a part he’d long thought was dead, or at least too buried beneath his guilt to ever feel anything again.

He opened his mouth to say something, to brush it off, maybe make light of it somehow, but nothing came out. Instead, a tremor ran through him, his hands suddenly unsteady as he clenched them into fists by his sides.

You didn’t push him. You just watched, that same gentle understanding in your eyes, and it was your silence—the fact that you weren’t asking anything of him—that undid him completely.

Before he could stop it, the first tear slid down his cheek, hot and unbidden. James quickly raised a hand to wipe it away, trying to regain control, but the more he fought it, the harder it became to hold back. He sucked in a shaky breath, and it felt like the dam he had built over the years was finally breaking, piece by piece.

"I—" His voice cracked, and he clenched his jaw, trying again. "I’m not… I’m not brave."

The words came out thick with emotion, almost inaudible, as he struggled to keep his composure. But it was no use. The walls he had built around himself, the ones that had protected him from feeling too much, were crumbling, and he couldn’t stop it. He didn’t want to.

His shoulders shook, and before he could stop himself, he brought a hand to his face, covering his eyes as the sobs broke free, raw and uncontrollable. He hadn’t cried like this—not in years. He didn’t even know he still could.

James broke down, standing there in front of you, all the grief, the guilt, the shame he’d held onto for so long spilling out of him in waves. He cried for Mary, for the life they never got to have, for Laura, for you, for himself—for everything. Through the blur of his tears, he felt a presence beside him, and then your hand touched his face, gentle and reassuring. He didn’t pull away. He couldn’t. Your touch felt like the only thing anchoring him in that moment, the only thing keeping him from drowning completely.

"You are brave, James," you whispered, your voice soft but firm. "You’ve been through so much, and you’re still here. You’re doing your best, and that’s more than enough."

He shook his head—leaning into your touch, not trusting himself to speak, but your words resonated inside him, even as he fought them. You didn’t know everything, didn’t know what he had done. But there was something in the way you looked at him, like you believed in him—like he wasn’t beyond saving.

And for the first time in a long time, he wondered if maybe, just maybe, you were right.

You stayed there beside him as he cried, not saying anything more, just offering your quiet presence, and it was enough. More than enough. Because in that moment, James didn’t feel alone. Not anymore.

Your hand, gentle and steady, reached up to James’ face, your fingertips brushing against his rough, unshaven cheek. The touch was soft, almost hesitant at first, but then you let your thumb sweep over his skin, chasing away the tears that had fallen. His breath hitched at the contact, and he closed his eyes as if it took everything in him just to accept the comfort you were offering.

He wasn’t used to this—wasn’t used to being cared for like this. For a moment, he closed his eyes, just trying to breathe, trying to let himself accept it. He let you guide him to the couch, moving almost mechanically, like he didn’t trust his own body to follow through on its own. His legs felt heavy, his heart even heavier, as he sank down beside you. He should have pulled away, should have put some distance between you, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. It was like he was tethered to you, and that scared him. The kindness in your touch, in your voice—it was too much. 

But at the same time, it was exactly what he craved, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

The room felt too quiet, too intimate, with the soft glow of the lamp casting long shadows across the walls. The kind of quiet that made it hard to escape his own thoughts. He tried to look anywhere but at you, but it was impossible. His gaze kept drifting back, kept landing on the softness in your expression, the concern etched in your eyes. 

His heart pounded harder in his chest when your hand moved from his cheek down to his chest, resting over his heart. The warmth of your palm was grounding, pulling him out of the haze of guilt and self-loathing for just a second. He could feel his pulse thudding beneath your touch, unsteady and anxious, as if his body didn’t know how to handle this closeness. He wasn’t sure how to handle it either.

He swallowed hard, trying to speak, to say something, anything, that would make sense of this. "You don’t have to…" he started, his voice hoarse and unsteady, but you just shook your head gently, stopping him before he could finish.

"I want to," you whispered, and your thumb brushed over his cheek one last time.

James clenched his jaw, his eyes dropping to your hand on his chest.. He shouldn’t be here with you like this. He shouldn’t let himself feel anything for you. But he did. He had for a long time, longer than he wanted to admit. And now, with you so close, it felt like those feelings were crashing down on him all at once.

And then, his heart races as you suddenly—yet, gently straddle him, the warmth of your body pressing against his. He can feel the heat radiating from your core, your thighs clenching around his hips. It takes all his self-control not to buck up into your touch, desperate for more.

His trembling hands rest on your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. He hadn’t done that for so long, he doesn’t even remember how and where to place his hands. James wanted to explore your body, to map out every curve and crevice, but he’s frozen in place, unable to do anything but stare into your eyes. You lean in closer, your breath ghosting over his lips. He can smell the faint scent of your lipstick, a sweet and intoxicating aroma that makes his head spin. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you in place as if you might disappear if he lets go.

"What do you want from me?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes dart down to your lips, watching as you wet them with the tip of your tongue. He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

You press your forehead against his, your noses brushing, and he can feel the heat of your breath mingling with his own. "I want you," you murmur, and he feels the words reverberate straight through him, igniting a fire in his veins.

His hands slide up your sides, skimming over the thin fabric of your shirt. He can feel the heat of your skin through the material, and it makes him ache to touch you, to feel you naked and bare beneath him. He starts to pull your shirt up, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of your stomach, and you shiver in his arms. Your hands move to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you arch into his touch.

He pauses, his fingers just beneath the swell of your breasts. He wants to go further, to explore the treasures hidden beneath your clothes, but he's suddenly uncertain. What if this is a mistake? What if he's just taking advantage of you? He looks into your eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt. But all he sees is desire, raw and unchecked. It’s a heady feeling, knowing that you want him just as much as he wants you.

Emboldened by your gaze, he continues to lift your shirt, revealing inch by tantalising inch of smooth, pale skin. He can't help but run his hands over your body, tracing the lines of your ribs, the soft swell of your breasts. You moan softly, pressing yourself into his touch, and he feels a surge of power and desire.

He wants to worship your body, to show you the depths of his desire. He wants to make you feel as crazy and desperate as he feels right now. But he's also terrified of ruining this moment, of pushing too far and losing you forever. "Tell me what you want," he whispers, his voice husky with need. "I'll give you anything."

You smile, a sultry, seductive look that sends a jolt of excitement straight to his core. "I want you," you repeat, your voice barely above a purr. "All of you."

He could feel the warmth of your core through the thin fabric of his jeans, and it sent a shiver down his spine. His hands instinctively gripped at your waist, fingers digging into your soft flesh, anchoring you there as he tried to make sense of the sensations coursing through him.

"You feel so good," he breathed, his voice low and strained. "So fucking perfect."

He couldn't help but grind up against you, seeking more of that delicious friction. His cock was hardening rapidly, straining against the confines of his pants, aching to bury itself deep inside you. James knew this was wrong, that he should push you away and set things right. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not when you were offering him such a tempting escape from his own demons.

Your hands roamed over his chest, tracing the lines of muscle and sinew, before slipping under the hem of his shirt. The touch of your fingers on his bare skin ignited a fire within him, and he groaned at the sensation. James bucked his hips up against you, desperate for more contact. He needed you, needed this, needed to feel something other than the emptiness that had consumed him for so long. 

He starts to grind against you, his hips moving in small, circular motions. The sensation of your clothed bodies rubbing together is exquisite, and he groans low in his throat as the friction builds. He can feel your heat through the thin fabric of his jeans and your skirt, and it's driving him wild.

Your hands move to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you arch into his touch. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps, and he can feel the heat of your breath on his face as you press your forehead against his. Your noses brush, but you never quite close the distance, never quite allow your lips to meet. It's maddening, this near-contact, and it makes him want you even more.

He continues to grind against you, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate. The ache in his groin is becoming unbearable, but he pushes on, determined to make you feel good, to show you just how much he wants you. He can feel his erection straining against his jeans, and he knows it's only a matter of time before he can't hold back any longer. You moan softly, your head falling back as you lose yourself in the sensations. James takes advantage of the moment, leaning in to press open-mouthed kisses along your neck. He nips and sucks at your skin, leaving a trail of marks that he knows will be visible in the morning. A thrill runs through him at the thought of you wearing his touch, of you bearing the evidence of his desire for everyone to see.

He feels your hands moving down his back, your fingers slipping beneath the hem of his shirt. You explore the planes of his broad back, your touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He arches into your touch, a low growl escaping from his throat as your fingertips skim over the sensitive skin of his lower back.

James's heart pounds wildly in his chest as he feels your body pressing against his, your thighs straddling his hips. His hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he begins to grind against you. The sensation of your clothed bodies rubbing together is exquisite, and he can't help but let out a low, desperate moan.

You lean in closer, your breath ghosting over his lips as your forehead pressed against his. Your noses brush, but you never quite close the distance, never allowing your lips to meet. The forbidden nature of this near-contact only serves to heighten James's desire, making him ache for more.

"Please," he whispers, his voice cracking with need. "I can't... I need you."

You smile, a sultry, seductive look that sends a jolt of electricity straight through him. "Shh," you murmur, running your fingers through his hair. "I've got you. Just let go, and let me take care of you."

James nods, his face flushed with desire as he continues to grind against you. The friction is maddening, and he can feel his control slipping away with each passing second. He's desperate to feel your heat, your wetness, but he knows better than to push too far.

Your hands move to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you arch into his touch. The pain is exquisite, and he moans louder, his hips moving faster, more urgently, and he knows it's only a matter of time before he can't hold back any longer. You whisper words of reassurance in his ear, your voice low and husky. "That's it, James. Give in to it. Let me feel how much you want me."

James's moans become whimpers as he loses himself in the sensations. He's never felt so desperate, so needy, so utterly consumed by desire. He wants you more than he's ever wanted anything. He leans in, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he breathes greedily in your scent. It's intoxicating, and he can feel his body responding to it, his arousal growing with each passing second. He continues to grind against you, his movements becoming more erratic, more uncontrolled. "I need you so bad," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I can't... I can't take it anymore. Please, let me feel you."

You respond by pressing even closer, your body flush against his as you continue to whisper words of encouragement. "You're doing so well. Just a little longer, and then I'll give you everything you want."

James nods, his face contorted with pleasure and pain as he continues to grind against you. He's never felt so alive, so connected, and he knows that this moment will stay with him forever. No matter what happens, no matter where life takes him, he'll always remember the feel of your body against his, the sound of your whispering voice, and the overwhelming desire that consumes him in this moment.

James's body trembles with desire as he continues to grind against you, his movements becoming more and more erratic. The friction between your clothed bodies is unbearable, and he can feel the pressure building inside him, threatening to burst at any moment. Your reassuring whispers in his ear and the way your body responds to his touch only fuel the fire burning within him. 

He's lost in the heat of the moment, consumed by the desire to claim you, to make you his.

With a final thrust of his hips, James reaches his climax, his body shuddering as waves of pleasure wash over him. He cries out your name, his voice raw with emotion, as he spills his seed, soaking the front of his jeans. The sensation of his release triggers something within you, and you follow suit, your body convulsing with your own orgasm. You press your forehead against his, your noses still brushing, but never quite touching, as you ride out the waves of pleasure together.

James collapsed back onto the couch, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. For a brief, stolen moment, everything felt right. He could feel the warmth of your body pressed against his, the lingering softness of your touch. But the quiet after was suffocating, and the reality of what he had done began to sink in like poison.

His mind started to race. What the hell have I done? The thought tore through him, a sickening knot forming in his stomach. The guilt hit him hard and fast, twisting deep inside. He’d crossed a line—no, obliterated it. This wasn’t what he was supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to take, to use someone like this, least of all you. He was a broken man, ruined, and he didn’t deserve you, not your kindness, not your warmth. Nothing.

Without warning, he sat up, his body tense as if ready to flee, and he pushed you off his lap with a roughness that startled both of you. The suddenness of it left you blinking in confusion, your eyes wide with hurt. You stood slowly, stepping back, unsure, your gaze searching his face for some explanation.

“You should go home,” James muttered, his voice cold, hollow. The words barely escaped his mouth, strangled by the knot in his throat. He couldn’t meet your eyes. “This was a mistake. I don’t want to see you again.”

The air between you became icy, your confusion shifting to hurt, and then something else—pain. He could feel it, could sense the betrayal rolling off you in waves, but he couldn’t bring himself to look, couldn’t bear the sight of what he had caused. “James…” Your voice was soft, pleading, as if you were trying to understand, to reach him through the walls he was so frantically putting up.

“No,” he snapped, the crack in his voice betraying him. His hands trembled, his whole body rigid with the effort to keep himself from breaking down entirely. “Please.” His voice wavered, the raw emotion in it spilling out despite himself. “Just go. Leave me alone.”

Silence filled the room like a weight. You stared at him for a moment, your chest tight, the sting of tears building in your eyes, but you blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you didn’t understand, but the pain radiating from him, the sheer self-hatred in his voice, made it clear—he didn’t want you to stay. He was pushing you away, not because he didn’t care, but because he thought he didn’t deserve to.

With a slow, heavy sigh, you gathered your things, your movements deliberate, as if giving him one last chance to change his mind. You paused at the door, casting one final glance over your shoulder, hoping for something—an apology, a word, a look. But all you saw was his back, his broad shoulders hunched as if weighed down by the world. He didn’t turn around.

You bit your lip, fighting the tears as you stepped out, closing the door softly behind you. The echo of your footsteps down the hallway was the only sound that broke the stillness in the room. James remained where he was, standing frozen in place, his body shaking, not from desire but from the overwhelming torrent of emotions he could no longer suppress.

The moment the door clicked shut, James’s knees buckled, and he collapsed back onto the couch, his face buried in his hands. The tears came then, harsh and relentless, tearing through him like a storm he couldn’t escape. He hated himself—hated that he had let this happen, hated that he had hurt you. But most of all, he hated that he wanted you to stay. That he needed you to.

You’re doing the right thing, he told himself, even as his heart twisted painfully in his chest. You don’t deserve her. You don’t deserve anyone. But even as he tried to convince himself of that, the emptiness swallowed him whole. He had pushed you away, and now he was left alone, drowning in the guilt and regret that would never let him go.

James sank deeper into the couch, his fingers digging into the soft materials as if trying to hold onto something—anything—that would ground him. But there was nothing. No Mary. No you. Nothing but the silence and the ghosts of his past. And the worst part? He wasn’t sure if he had saved you by pushing you away—or if he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

[happypolicecherry]

Alhaitham

Alhaitham is the type to think his s/o is overreacting while arguing with them. He's convinced that he's right and would just be humouring you by wasting his precious time on this useless banter.

He had already won before you could lay your case, so why do you keep insisting that he's wrong? Like, why are you overreacting by fussing over a small matter when Alhaitham had already voiced out his reasons? There's no way you're even slightly right.

Alhaitham already connected the points and drew them solved right to the finest detail. He'd just rest his back leaning on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Stupid turquoise eyes staring directly at you, watching you as you lose your shit in front of him

One crucial point that Alhaitham always forget is, people, grow frustrated when having to explain their point repeatedly to a person who's often said; not up for a debate because they're right. Alhaitham is exactly that kind of person.

So you can only imagine the slight shift of surprise in his expression when he hear your voice crack. Although it was brief because you stopped talking as soon as it happened, it didn't go amiss with Alhaitham. He only began to feel something tug his heart when you looked away from his direction with your head tilted downward, and your fingers lightly touching your eyes.

For once, Alhaitham is taken aback, and his stance begins to waver. Tossing his pride aside, he fast-paced to where you are standing. Although not panic strikened, he dislike being the cause of your tears.

Diluc Ragnvindr

As for Diluc, he'd listen to what you have to say until it involves things he disagrees with such as mending with Kaeya, taking a week off from doing his darknight hero gigs and also letting you help him.

Don’t get him wrong, you are important to him. But some things that you want to happen just does not align or sit well with him, he just genuinely will never be able to find himself compromising for it, so he would rather be straight with you.

"I don't think that's for you to decide." He would start being sharp tongued when you keep pressing on matters he dislikes speaking of. A bad habit of his but he'll never admit it. He would try his best not to dismiss you completely and wants to ensure you, what you are feeling is important to him.

Tragically for Diluc, his main problem is the fact that he forgets he has to be vocal about it. And not just stood there while staring into your soul with his eyebrows furrowed, the idea of you not understanding his thoughts completely leaving his mind.

So, when your voice starts wavering from confident to doubtful, Diluc realised something was wrong. His body would automatically release all the tension he was holding in, his expression softened slightly as he discards his own ego and reaches out for your wrist. His warm hand fills you with comfort almost immediately as he gently pulls you closer to him.

He does not want to see you upset nor does he wants to lie to you, so he chooses to put this argument to rest because it will just disturb you further if you keep trying to change things that his mind is set on. We all know how stubborn Diluc can be once his goal is set. Fortunately, even fire can’t stay bright and roaring forever if you keep trying to extinguish it.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

Mine to Protect Part III

@thetrueghostqueen Thank you so much for your wonderful request for the birthday prompts! I truly hope you enjoyed the story! Even though it turned out pretty big 😅

Source for Pic

Mine to Protect

Word Count: 4408

Tags for the whole story: Highlander!Kid; Fem!Reader; Alternate Universe - Scotland 13th century; Gore; Blood; Violence; Death; Mild Angst; Fluff; Nudity; Cursing; Sexual Tension; Explicit Sexual Content; Protective!Kid; Possessive!Kid; Soft!Kid; Feral!Kid; Jealous!Kid; Happy Ending; Sort of Enemies to Lovers; Teasing; Banter; NSFW; MDNI; Mature Audiences;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Your father and his allied clans are at war, and you're a liability. When you're assigned a guard to protect you - against your will - you do everything in your power to infuriate him. The problem is that he can be more infuriating than you, as you're about to find out.

Notes: Final part everyone. I hope you enjoyed this! It really wasn't supposed to be so big... but then there were so many little moments I wanted to include... Thank you for reading!

Part 3 of 3

|Part 1| | |Part 2| | |Masterlist|

You avoid the wedding conversation with your father like the plague, but you chase Kid’s company like a hunter tracking deer through the glens. More than once, he tumbles into your sheets –sometimes you don’t even make it that far. He has you against doors, walls, on the ground, under the shade of trees, anywhere –everywhere!

You now know the shape and contour of all his scars and muscles. The way they ripple as he uses them to handle your body effortlessly, the way they tense when he’s lost at the edge, spilling his release into you, or the way they soften as you search for the warmth of his embrace afterwards. 

He’s told you about many of the scars. He’s even told you how his left arm was rendered almost useless during battle. He has opened up to you, and you to him, sharing all your worries over your people, sharing how you’ve lost your brother to brigands when you were young and vowed not to be a helpless noble girl –he assures you, you’re not.

Things happen easily between you and Kid, even though you still disagree on many things and keep fighting like cats and dogs. Most of those fights end the same, with both of you lost in a mess of tangled limbs. 

You’ve fallen.

So hard it hurts. And it’s scary as hell in more ways than one. Not only do you not know if Kid feels the same for you, but you also don’t want your heart and emotions to be so tied to a single person. Because, at this moment, it feels like you might die if something happens to Kid. 

You can’t hold back that conversation anymore, so it takes a particularly cold night –a bit warmer now that you and Kid have exercised– when you’re lost in his embrace, to peel the words from your lips.

Kid’s arm grips you, his hand securing you tightly by the waist, and you absentmindedly realise that he never holds you differently. It’s always with strength, a fierce claim, or a desperate need to protect. Your fingers trace the scar on his chest, as you usually do, and that always brings a soft smile to his lips as he relaxes his breathing.

After a while, he speaks. “Yer awfully quiet today. Ye must tell me what I did tae get ye tae shut up.” He chuckles. “I might need that information for other nights.”

But you don’t reply. Not with a chuckle, nor with a witty response as he was expecting you to. 

“Lass?” He opens his eyes and lifts your chin with his fingers to inspect your face, and you sigh. 

“What are we, Kid?” The fear of his answer grips your heart in its clutches holding it ransom. 

“What do ye mean?”

Sitting up and crossing your legs on the bed, you lock your gaze with his. “This, us. What are we?” You gesture between your bodies, impatience oozing from your pores. 

Kid sits up as well, running a hand through his fiery, slightly damp hair. “Lass… we… we’re us.” He shrugs, and you sigh again. Talking about feelings with Kid is like pulling a sword from solid rock. Clearly, he senses that you’re upset, because he tries again. “I care for ye.”

“I know that.”

“Good. So, that’s it.” He reaches for you, but you swat his hand away. 

“Is that all? You care?”

“We have fun, aye, lass?” He smirks at you, trying to lighten the mood, but he’s not even inching closer to where you want him to be. 

“Aye. Fun. You care, and we have fun. That’s all there is, right?”

Kid tenses, and the ticking in his jaw alerts you that he’s finally taking this seriously. “There cannae be anythin’ else, can there? Yer a noble lady, I’m a hired sword.”

You nod. In your head, you know that, technically there can’t be anything more, but in your heart, there are infinite possibilities. What you wanted to hear from him is that he more than cares, that he is willing to fight for both of you. You want to hear him say that he’s fallen for you too. You don’t expect him to be romantic, he was right all those nights ago, you don’t need to be sweet-talked. But you want something real. 

“Is that what ye wanted to hear? That we’re nae good tae each other? That we cannae work?” He slams a fist on the bed, and you know he’s not angry at you, really, it’s at the situation. 

“No, Kid. What I wanted to hear was a bit of fight in you.” You get up, pull your dress over your head, and your feet through your boots. “Because you fight so hard to protect me from outside threats, when the biggest threat to my heart is right here in my room.”

The hurt in his expression is a mirror of your own as you make your way to the door. But it’s not over yet. There’s something else you need to tell him and this was why you asked him what you were. To see if you and he were worth fighting for. 

Your hand hovers the doorknob and you don’t look back at him as you deliver the news. “My father has chosen a suitor to marry me. I have no say in the matter. We are to be married within a month.”

As tears fill your eyes, you leave the room without looking back, not knowing what Kid feels about the news or if he’s as devastated as you are.

-*-

You will never know how he felt about the news you delivered, because by morning, he’s gone. Just gone, without a trace, without a goodbye, without a word. Why does your chest ache so much when he took your heart with him?

Your father merely assigns another guard to you, but since you’ll be married within a month –securing a formidable war alliance that comes with soldiers and money– and leaving his house, he simply assigns one of his personal guards to shadow you.

This guard is quiet, slow, and an idiot. You lose him on the first try. 

Though you don’t wander too far alone. The streets are growing more dangerous, and this guard isn’t Kid. You don’t trust him to find you anywhere and everywhere, as if you were connected by more than duty. 

You refuse to cry.

You know you have many, many tears to shed, but you gave yourself one night to do it. The night he left you, and that was it. No more tears, no more broken heart. And though it all seems easier said than done, you manage slightly. 

You set up a food delivery system with some of the citizens on the keep’s grounds, so you can be safer and still help them, and this has kept your mind and hands occupied. But the end of the month approaches, and so does your wedding. 

You can’t stop thinking about Kid and how he makes you feel and it’s nearly impossible to think of giving yourself to another man. Be it body or soul. You’re Kid’s. And that’s it.

Days without him seem colder and drag on slower than before. Training doesn't feel the same, and every time you lie in bed you still feel the ghost of his arms wrapped around you. You've found yourself glancing over your shoulder more than once, hoping he's there, just around the corner, with his scowl in place, a witty remark at hand, or a biting word. 

But he's not. 

And so, you tread on, day by day, night by night, forcing your heart to harden, to stop caring, to just let him go. 

Until you feel him. It's that prickling sensation at the nape of your neck, the tingling that bristles your hairs and almost stops your heart. This time, when you glance over your shoulder, he's really there, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to run to him and jump into his arms. 

Gods, you've missed him. 

He looks… haggard. His hair is duller, matted and dirty, there's dried blood on his skin and clothes –you're too scared to ask him if it's his, so you don’t– and there's darkness in his eyes, so much darkness. 

“Kid…” You barely utter, your heart too shattered to let your mouth part with any more words, lest he take them as ransom and use them against you. 

“Forgive me, lass. I've been gone longer than I meant, aye?” His voice seems drained. He looks exhausted, and you want nothing more than to scream at him for leaving you without a single word, for making you suffer beyond human understanding. But none of what you feel matters when he looks ready to drop dead from exhaustion at any second. So you drag him into your quarters and draw him a warm bath without uttering another word. 

He sits in the tub as you pour warm water over him, loosening the grime and blood so he can scrub it off. You don't speak. You're too afraid that the first words out of your mouth will be angry and accusing, and now’s not the time to fight. For what it's worth, he doesn't speak either. Whether he's respecting your silence or simply too tired, is anyone's guess. 

When the water rises enough for a comfortable bath, you wet the cloth and hand it to Kid, but he doesn't make a move to take it. His eyes are droopy, and his head lolls back and forth until he finally leans it against the rim of the tub with a groan and a grunt. 

You sigh as your heart clenches, and you kneel beside him, running the wet cloth over his arms first, scrubbing off the caked mud, blood, and whatever else he dragged on him from wherever he was. When you reach his hand, his fingers curl slightly, seeking your touch, trying to hold you and you give everything to stop your tears from falling. 

Gods, how you love this man. 

He slumbers for a bit as you clean most of the grime off, but when you reach his chest and your hands find the familiar scars, his eyes slowly open, watching you. You're frowning pretending not to notice him observing you, but you grumble something unintelligible when you find three new scars –badly healed– on his torso. 

“Where did you go…?” The question slips from your lips against your will in a quiet whisper. You're not even sure if he heard you or if he'll answer. 

“Behind enemy lines, tae the north.”

The cloth slips from your hand, and you fumble to secure it again, your mouth open as wide as your eyes. “Beyond the borders? Into enemy territory? Kid! You could’ve died!”

His smirk barely curves his lips, but it's there. “Would've been worth it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You growl, scrubbing harder and making him wince. 

“Ah, I've missed that filthy tongue, lass.” How can your heart warm at such words when you want nothing more than to yell at him for having left you? “I got what I went in for.” He dips his head back into the water, using his hands to try and comb through his matted hair. When he rises out of the water, his exhausted gaze falls on you, waiting for your questions. 

“What did you go in for?”

“Information. War information that’ll make the clans turn tae yer da’s side without ye havin’ tae marry.” A chill runs through you as you stare at him. Is he serious? Has he risked his life just to get you out of an arranged marriage? Does that mean… does he love you back? Are you more than just ‘fun’? 

You swallow the lump in your throat and try to make your tongue work past the dry, sand-like feeling in your mouth. “You still left me behind, without a word or a goodbye. Without a warning. I was alone!” The sigh that parts your lips is filled with sorrow and resignation. “We'll speak about this after you rest, you're in no condition to argue.”

He chuckles as you force him to lean forward –with a harder shove than you should– so you can clean his back. “Oh, but I've missed arguin’ with ye.” You purse your lips, drawing back an angry snarl that only makes him chuckle again. “Think about it. Would ye’ve let me leave if I told ya my plan?” He shrugs nonchalantly. “I mean, I would've left just the same, but ye would've tried tae stop me. Or worse, ye would've wanted tae go with me. It was better this way.”

“Better for whom? Because I was left thinking you'd abandoned me, right after I poured my heart out to you!”

Kid's face falls again. “Better than tae worry about me. If I died, at least ye could've forgotten me if ye hated me. It would've been a lot harder tae forget me if ye still cared.”

I still care. 

You think the words, but you don't say them. Instead, you hand him the cloth. “Finish up, Kid. I'll go grab you some clothes from your old room. It hasn't been touched.”

-*-

When you return he's clean and dry, a  towel wrapped around his waist, and you lower your gaze before you get lost in the body you know so well. Handing him the shirt and breeches, you return to your room, waiting for him with a tray of food and ale, so he eats and rests, because he looks like shit. 

He follows you wordlessly after getting dressed and eats the food ravenously, which makes you wonder how long it’s been since he last ate. By the time he finishes, he looks ready to fall down again. You lead him to your bed, setting him down in the place he's slept more times than you can count, and securing the blankets around him. As Kid closes his eyes, you sigh, turning to leave, but his arm loops around your waist, and he drags you to bed, your back firmly against his chest, as he pulls you closer and drapes the covers over you too. 

“Kid…” You start to protest. He needs rest and you don't trust your heart enough to be this close to him and not break. He still hasn't told you how he truly feels. He said he missed your remarks and arguing with you, but he didn't say he missed you. 

“Stay.” His voice sounds hoarse and pained as he pulls you impossibly closer, burying his head in your hair, inhaling your scent in deep breaths. 

You relax in his hold. It's not like you want to leave anyway. You've never felt safer than in Kid's arms, you're just not sure if you feel loved. 

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, lass.” The whisper of his words kisses the back of your neck in warm breaths, and your heart clenches. “I'm shite with words and feelings, ye know that… but… dinnae think for a minute that I left because I dinnae care. I left because I do care.”

He's still not saying it. 

“I know you care, Kid.” You sound weary and resigned. Perhaps you're asking too much. It's obvious he cares deeply, or he would've never gone to the lengths he did for you. 

“It's more than that.” You can almost hear the strain in his voice as he forces the words out. “I knew I could never fall for ye. I'm a guard, yer a noble lady. How could I… love ye if I'm no’ worthy? Yer da would hang me for ever touchin’ ye…” His chuckle is just a rumble against your back. “If he knew how much I've touched ye, my head would roll.”

You hold back a smirk. All your life you've defied your father and his rules. Kid would never be the exception. 

“But I've come tae realise that I cannae live without ye, nor do I want tae.” He sighs and rolls you, motioning for you to turn to him, so you do. Your cheeks are hot and flushed and your heart is hammering violently against your chest. His fiery eyes are droopy and tired, filled with so much exhaustion that is physically noticeable. But he needs to get his words out. His fingers tilt your chin so he can stare right into your eyes. “I've realised that if lovin’ ye is a risk, then I'm ready tae bet everythin’. And that's why I had tae go. Because I love ye.”

A ragged sob breaks through your defences and tears down the dam you've built to hold your tears in since Kid’s return. Tears spill from your eyes in fat droplets as Kid pulls you to his chest, his hand resting on the back of your head, comforting you, cradling you. He doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't need to. 

He's said it all. 

You spill all the tears you vowed not to cry when he left, all the pent-up emotions that you’d stored safely away in a dark corner of your heart come crashing down with the force of a tidal wave, destroying everything in their path. And Kid holds you through it all. Your lifeline, your anchor, your everything. 

He doesn't utter any more words, and he's right, you know he's shit with feelings. But his actions have always spoken much louder than words. He holds you tightly, clearly fending off all the exhaustion in his weary bones just to comfort you. His lips press softly against the crown of your head, again and again, in an endless torrent of kisses, like he can't get enough of you. His hand rubs your back up and down in soothing motions as your heart explodes from all this love. It's overwhelming, overpowering and somehow, still not enough. 

Eventually, you pull back from him, tilting your head upwards and watching him through wet lashes. “Gods, Kid. I love you too. So much. So, so much.” The warmth in his gaze overpowers the tiredness as he lowers his face, mouth hovering just above yours. “Yer mine.” His words are a claim and he delivers them softly, like a man who is sure of what he's saying. 

“I'm yours.” 

With the softest of grunts you've ever heard him release, Kid takes your lips in his. You melt into him, this kiss insurmountably different from all the others you've shared. It's soft, steady, and tender. It's not filled with brimming, raging fire or fueled by desire. It's intimate and filled with promises. It's perfect. 

When you both pull back, he cups your cheek and rests his forehead against yours, eyes hooded as exhaustion finally overtakes him. “Stay with me.”

“Aye, Kid.” You don't really know if he asked you to stay the night or to stay forever, but it doesn't really matter when the answer to the question is the same, right? 

-*-

As dawn approaches, you leave Kid to rest in your bed as you get changed and ready. Then you gather the papers Kid brought with him, the valuable information about the war front and you grimace. The papers are bloodied and dirty, a testament to what he's been through, but they are readable. In fact, it serves the purpose best like this, so your father can understand what he's endured. 

You march into your father's quarters, and his guards have the gall to try to stop you from entering. “Either of you touch me, and you'll meet my wrath.” Your fiery reputation is well known in the keep and after exchanging glances, the guards step aside. With a deep breath, you burst into the war room where your father and his advisors are already gathered, though they seem to be discussing how juicy a piece of boar meat is, instead of actual war business. They startle at the noise of the door banging, and you stride towards your father with pursed lips and purposeful steps, daring anyone to stop you. 

Nobody does. 

“Here.” You shove the plate of meat aside –almost dropping it on the floor– and slam the papers in front of your father with a loud bang. “You'll be interested in these, Father.” You watch as he cleans his greasy fingers on his cloak and picks up the parchment, curiosity lighting his eyes. 

You have to suppress a grin when his eyes widen and his mouth opens in surprise. “This… how? This information can change the war… it can bring us the support we need. This is vital.”

The advisors look at your father, then at you, also filled with curiosity. “Aye, Father. That information can sway the clans to your side and bring you the numbers you need to finish this. All without me having to marry.”

A triumphant smirk curls the corner of your lips as all the men gathered around the table begin talking with one another, discussing outcomes and probabilities, finally forgetting the food and actually delving into war business. Your father passes the bundle of papers to the advisor on his right and pins you with his stare.

“How did you get these?”

“Remember Eustass Kid?” You can’t help the way your voice softens at the mere mention of him.

“Aye, the sword I hired to protect you. The guard at the entrance reported that he returned yesterday. Was it him?” He seems incredulous. 

“Aye. He risked his neck for that.”

Your father scratches his chin, the weight of what Kid did hanging heavily on his shoulders. You’re pretty sure he’s already considering how much gold he can be parted with to compensate him. But you’re about to help him solve that problem.

“I will not marry the laird.” You state. You don’t ask, you simply inform your father of your decision because you know he cannot deny you that, not when he doesn’t need a marriage alliance anymore. 

“Fine. I barely know how I convinced you the first time. You’re free, lass, to do whatever you want.”

Your heart hammers against your chest, but you don’t let your nerves show. Not now, when you’re so close. “But I want to marry, Father. Just not him.”

A heavy sigh escapes his lips as he returns his gaze to a paper that wandered back into his hand, looking as though he has more important matters to discuss than your marriage. And he does, and this reminds you of all the headaches you’ve brought upon him, all the troubles you’ve stirred up while growing up. You know you were not an easy daughter, but you know your father loves you, in his own way. 

“Who, then?” 

“Kid.”

He lifts his eyes from the parchment in front of him to stare you down again. “The hired sword? Not a laird?”

You nod. Your throat suddenly feels too tight to squeeze any words through. 

“Impossible. You’re noble, and he’s… not. I was willing to grant you a marriage of your choosing, but I thought you wanted someone of your standing.”

You knew this was coming, so you take a deep, calming breath. “What I want, Father, is someone who fights for me, someone who is willing to go behind enemy lines and risk his neck for me. Someone who loves me so much, that he’d burn down the world for me, if only I asked. He has proven his dedication to me –and to you– a hundred times over.”

“He’s just a mercenary” Your father’s voice rises, and the room stills. “You need a leader by your side! Someone who knows the people and how to lead, not just fight!”

You place your hands on your hips to hide the trembling in them. “I know the people well enough for the both of us. I love the people more than anyone in this room.” Your voice starts to rise with each word. “Gods, I’ve done more for the people and the land than any of you combined! For once, just for once, Father, let someone love me! I deserve to be happy, too!”

Your father stays silent for a moment, his throat bobbing up and down as his thick brows furrow in deep thought. His eyes scan the information laid before him again, as if weighing everything he has and what he’s willing to lose. 

“Very well. You can marry him, if that’s what you truly want.”

-*-

You barely make it past the hallway outside the war room before you feel a familiar prickling sensation on the back of your neck. Kid’s waiting for you. He looks better, more like himself, but there’s still weariness in his eyes and a sort of darkness in them that can only come from claiming someone else’s life –and gods know he’s done enough of that for a lifetime.

“Lass, I knew ye’d be with yer da.” His gaze softens, however, when you meet. “Did he call the weddin’ off?” The hope in his voice mirrors the one that fills your heart.

“I’m still marrying.” 

“The fuck ye are! He lays one finger in yer direction, and he’s dead. I’ll fuckin’ kill him and his entire clan if I have tae! Fuck! I’ll just grab ye and we’ll run. I dinnae care where–”

“Kid!” You take one step towards him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes at the intensity of his feelings. Placing your palms on his heaving chest, you look into his eyes with nothing but love. “You would really burn down the whole world for me, wouldn’t you?”

His hand brushes your cheek gently, a contrast to the beast of a man he is. “Just say the words, lass. I’ll do it.”

“I’m marrying you, you insufferable man. There’s only you.”

He lets out a string of curses in his thick brogue, and you barely understand a word, though you know they’re all directed at you. “Ye wanna kill me. I already knew ye wanted me dead, lass!” Then he weaves his fingers through your hair and pulls you closer, lowering his face until his lips hover over yours. “Damn brat.”

“I love you, Kid.”

“Aye. Me too. Ye’re mine, always.”

“And you’re mine.”

The smile on his lips mirrors your own as they touch again in that soft, gentle dance you’ve come to know as love. 

THE END

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @takamimami

[atinysunbaby]

⌛Ateez IT's you unit discovering a new kink⌛

- Kang Yeosang, Choi San, Jung Wooyoung

Warnings : Mature, smut and explicit images. Read at your own discretion.

💜Kang Yeosang💜

Yeosang never would have thought he'd be the kind of man to enjoy teasing his girlfriend, but it accidentally happens and he falls in love with your reaction.

You're lying down on your stomach, his hands massaging your back and you keep squirming around, trying to find the most comfortable position. After 20 minutes of you not being able to stay put, he got annoyed and without thinking slaps your ass pretty hard, no doubt leaving a handprint under your cotton shorts.

He realises a second too late what he just did, but he doesn't feel guilty like he should be, because the sound of you trying to suppress a whimper makes him lose control, it provokes his body to act on its own. "Didn't know you liked to be treated like a slut."

He scoffs at the way you hide your face in the pillow, fingers tightly holding the material to ground yourself and too obviously rubbing your thighs to create friction. "Yeosang~"

Your voice sounds needy, but there is a hint of embarrassment lingering and Yeosang almost takes pity on you. In the end, his urges win and he proceeds to bite one of your cheeks mercilessly and you cry out in both pain and pleasure. You're astonished at this new side of your previously more careful partner and absolutely adore the idea of him being rough.

Yeosang comes to the conclusion that he just found himself a new kink and he can't wait to experiment and discover more, but he decides it is enough for the time being. The way your body is slightly trembling, indicates to Yeosang that you're sensitive and in need of release. "Such a good girl aren't you? Let me take care of you my love."

He lifts your hips up and pushes your chest down against the mattress, fingers caressing your skin until it reaches your bottom. He slides both your shorts and underwear off at once as you arch your back and he throws them somewhere in the room. "That's it, almost there baby."

He kisses the soft skin along your spine and smirks against your skin at the sight of goosebumps appearing instantly from his warmth. His lips press against your bottom, slowly making his way to where you need him the most and you savor every second. When he reaches your heat, he doesn't waste any time and devours his favorite meal with skill.

🖤Choi San🖤

He knows he's done for when he finds himself smiling from ear to ear at the sight of a deep blush rising on your cheeks, you hide yourself behind your smaller hands and try to put some distance between you two. He keeps complimenting you with a seductive tone and winking at you, obviously flirting and purposely making it harder for you to regulate your rapid heartbeat.

From that moment, he can't resist the urge to make you shy and as a distraction for you, to his advantage, he plays a movie. After waiting until he's sure you are focused on the screen in front of you, when you least expect it, he buries his face in your neck and kisses the skin sensually, sucking lightly to create small red and purple bruises.

What he definitely wasn't expecting though, was for his dick to twitch in his pants because of the whine you let out. He never heard you make that sound, not even when you have sex. It's different, more flustered and desperate, rather than the usual, filled with pleasure and neediness.

The repetitive slaps on his arm brings him out of his daze and he releases the tension in his jaw, coming to realise that his teeth pierced your skin and he was biting the shit out of your neck. After getting a good glimpse at the damage he made, he is too stunned to speak. The sight of your skin covered in his marks with traces of saliva left behind, makes heat creep up from the pit of his stomach all the way to the tip of his ears.

"I'm so sorry did I hurt you?" You shove the sofa's cushion in your face, unable to give him a verbal response, too taken aback. But you do shake your head to reassure him and he sighs in relief, it wasn't his goal to inflict pain. "I don't know what took over me."

You watch his expression turn into one of guilt and it confuses you, because you thought he liked it just as much as you did. So, to get a reaction out of him you confess and his eyes widen at your words. "It felt good, I liked the pain."

❤️Jung Wooyoung❤️

It's innocent and funny little jokes he makes when it's just the two of you, but in public he's a menace. He waits for the perfect opportunity, the moment you expect it least and then he strikes.

Either you jump at the sudden hand squeezing your thigh, fingers digging in your skin until it almost hurts. You can't help the growing heat in the pit of your stomach, being excited even though you shouldn't be, not when there's so many people around.

Or, you have to mask a moan that slips out of your mouth because Wooyoung decided he wants to start fingering you in the middle of a restaurant with the rest of his members present.

It doesn't matter to him, he has to lay his hands on you in any way he can and he gets off on the possibility that others can see. He loves that he's the only one to be able to pleasure you and no matter how much another person would want you, they can't.

"Do you want them to hear how wet you are for me? Should I make it more obvious?" He fastens the pace at which his fingers are going and the sound of your arousal squelching is getting louder. He's making it almost impossible to mask with coughs or a fake laugh, especially to Yeosang who's on your left and sometimes turns his attention to you. "P-please Woo slow down."

You mutter the words into your merciless boyfriend's ear, in hopes he will have some compassion and stop torturing you, but he just scoffs and goes back to the previous conversation at the table. You almost whine at how close you're getting, sweat starting to gather on your forehead and the obvious tremble of your body is hinting at the event taking place under the wooden furniture.

You don't want to be enjoying this, but Wooyoung's fingers are hitting your sweet spot without missing and you do want to savor your approaching orgasm, which you can already feel, will be incredibly intense. "Wo-woo, I'm-"

Maybe it's because of the thrill of getting caught or it might be because you meet Yeosang's eyes as your orgasm hits you like a train, but you have to admit it is euphoric. "Shit baby are you ok?"

The voice sounds distant and it takes you a few minutes to gain back consciousness, but you know the moment you open your eyes again. "Fuck, did I just squirt?"

Ateez masterlist

[flowerandblood]

Glass Cuts Deepest (9)

[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, panic attack, fluff, angst, trauma, mention of rape, indecent student-teacher relationship ]

[ description: A female painting student is finally able to choose the specialisation she has dreamt of - stained glass. She wants to become a student of the best specialist in this field, but he, for some reason, refuses to accept female students into his workshop. She finds out that he once slapped a female student of one of the other professors. Nevertheless, she makes an attempt to find out what happened then and to convince him to teach her. Slow burn, sexual tension, dark, agressive Aemond, great childhood traumas. ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She couldn't believe what had happened. She couldn't believe that he touched her, that she came on his hand, that he was planning to leave the university, that she could fall asleep in his embrace. In two days, her life had been turned upside down, and it appeared that the man she thought simply disliked her must have been in love with her for weeks.

What surprised her even more was that his confession had awakened something in her, some realisation that something about him had attracted her to him all along, had made her listen to every sentence he uttered to her colleagues, had made her gasp for air when he entered the room, had made her smile to herself when he watched from afar as she worked.

She thought at the time that the trembling of her hands and the hard pounding of her heart she felt when she spoke to him were due to fear, but she realised that it was always accompanied by an element of thrill, that as a man he was a challenge to her and by some miracle she had managed to get to his very heart, rooting so hard that he refused to let her out of his arms.

If it had been Cregan who had shown her so much interest and desire for intimacy she would surely have quickly cringed and withdrawn, overwhelmed and discouraged, however with him everything they did seemed strangely natural and came easily to her, as if subconsciously this was what she had been waiting for, patiently allowing him to approach her of his own accord.

They both squirmed through the night, aroused and elated, feeling that although no confession had been made between them, something had been decided, that they both knew they wanted each other, that they desired each other.

In the morning she was awakened by the tender touch of his fingers combing through her hair, his nose nestled against the top of her head, her cheek snuggled into his chest, locked in his tight, secure embrace.

She shuddered and sighed heavily, disappointed when she heard her alarm clock ring, hoping they had had a bit more time. She felt him release her from his arms so she could reach for her phone lying on her side of the bed, stroking her back as she muted her alarm, as if he wanted to take advantage of every second he was alone with her, every second he could touch her.

She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled, returning to her previous position, snuggling into his chest again, placing her hands exactly where he let her. He welcomed her back into the embrace of his arms with his murmur of contentment, his lips sinking into her hair on the top of her head in a tender kiss as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

She was shocked at how affectionate he was and how he needed that affection himself.

She thought, swallowing silently, that she wanted nothing more now than to take a shower with him.

She could feel his muscular body under her cheek and fingers – he had a slender, well-built figure and she suspected he went to the gym. She tried not to think about how wonderful he must look naked, wet, under the drops of water, but her imagination was apparently too lush, because she felt the wetness between her thighs again.

She heard him also grunt quietly and say that unfortunately he should go back to his room, take a quick shower and change before breakfast. She could feel how hard he was and knew that he was feeling extreme emotions, simultaneously terrified and aroused at the thought that she could touch him like that.

She decided that she would never try to touch him herself in such an intimate place until he guided her hand there himself or asked her to.

She didn't want to hurt him, seeing how much he trusted her.

Just two days ago, he wouldn't even shake her hand or sit close to her, but now they were lying in a tender, intimate embrace, stroking and kissing each other.

His lips found hers in a final, deep, drawn-out kiss before he stood up, standing with his back to her, not wanting to show what was going on in his sweatpants. She watched him leave and close the balcony door behind him while lying on her bed, feeling surprisingly calm.

It seemed like they were together.

She was in a relationship with her professor.

She sighed heavily, pressing her face against the pillow, recognising that she had no idea how they were going to manage to hide and pretend when they returned to university, when he needed her closeness and affection so much now.

How were they going to feign that they were indifferent to each other, that they kept their distance, that their relationship was downright chilly?

Nothing frightened her more than the thought that he would be in trouble because of her, that she would destroy his career.

She felt heat in her heart recalling what he had said, that he wanted to leave.

She knew they were balancing on the edge and recognised that she needed to be responsible for herself and for him, that she was no longer a small child and should control herself.

That he'd already suffered enough in his life and she needed to protect him, not get too carried away with their joy together and keep herself in check outside of the moments when it was just the two of them.

Just as the day before they'd had breakfast with Cregan – this time she had the impression that her professor was much more relaxed, even joining their discussion himself once in a while.

Apart from the pleasant realisation that there was some kind of beautiful feeling developing between them, which she had completely not expected, it came to her that she would see her project in its full glory today, her heart was hot with excitement.

When they arrived at the church she almost ran inside – she couldn't help herself, the technicians were just packing up the scaffolding and all the window quarters were put in their places. Father Bishop was already waiting for them, satisfaction gushing from his face.

"Please, come closer, Miss Wright, and see how magnificent your work looks." He said with a satisfaction from which she felt a kind of pride, knowing that she was only in her second year and although she had only cut out part of the background herself, this was her project, her vision, her idea.

She felt a tightness in her throat and a warmth ripple through her body seeing how beautiful it looked as a whole, how the faces of the saints, their robes and the backgrounds behind them shimmered in the sunlight, how wonderfully her composition and choice of colours matched the golden, baroque altar that stood before it.

Cregan patted her on the back proudly, saying that the whole thing looked amazing.

"It's a credit to the whole workshop. Everyone worked so hard, I'm so happy." She said softly, her voice trembling with emotion. She shuddered as she heard her professor's voice behind her.

"In Christian iconography and theology, the Virgin Mary is supposed to be the personification of the New Eve, transformed from a woman who was tempted into a woman who contributed to human salvation. Her son, Christ, was instead to be the new Adam, which is why often in crucifixion paintings we see a skull under his feet on the ground that is meant to symbolise Adam's tomb, on which his cross grows like a tree." He said in a calm, matter-of-fact tone, as if he were telling an interesing story, Cregan and the bishop looked at him with interest.

However, she knew perfectly well why he had said it, and she felt her heart beating fast, a pleasant heat spread over her whole body, a flush of embarrassment on her face.

For me, you are like Eve in Eden, who appeared beside me as a godsend.

She was his Eve, and his Virgin Mary had her face.

She wasn't sure there was any more intimate, spiritual declaration of love.

The bishop hummed under his breath, nodding.

"Indeed, the professor is right, Our Lady and Christ are the announcement of a new paradise, but also of the good news that the exile and wandering of mankind is over, that the gates of heaven have been opened to them again." He said, folding his hands behind him, glancing at her stained glass window and then at her, with a kind of curiosity from which she felt discomfort.

"Who painted the face of that wondrous Mother of God that shines so luminously before us?" He asked lightly, and she saw her professor look at him uncertainly, standing with his hands folded in front of him.

"Me." He replied briefly, lowly, but she felt a kind of tension in his answer. She saw Father Bishop glance at him and then at her and corrected his glasses with a light flick of his hand, a kind of amusement passed across his face from which she felt a squeeze in her throat.

Despite her concern, he didn't return to the subject, but she for some reason felt like crying.

It won't work.

People will guess that they have something in common and destroy them both.

They'll assume that she was in an intimate relationship with him from the very beginning and that's why he accepted her. They'll turn it against him, they'll think that's why he didn't want to accept women in the first place.

She felt tears at that thought and immense pain.

She saw that he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, that he looked at her in the reflection of the mirror as they drove back to the hotel, but she was unable to look at him thinking that it was just a dream and nothing more, that she was naïve to think that what they were doing could have had any happy ending.

She went to her room without saying a word despite Cregan's encouragement for the three of them to have dinner at the restaurant and enjoy their new, wonderfully accomplished assignment.

She didn't have the strength to do that.

She was lying in her bed dressed in her pyjamas in complete darkness, knowing he would come, feeling in her heart ache at the thought that tomorrow they would return home, to the university, to an everyday life where what they did was immoral and would never be understood.

She shuddered when she heard movement on the balcony and then the quiet tapping of his fist on the window.

She thought for a moment that maybe she shouldn't open it, shouldn't give him or herself hope, but decided that she couldn't hurt him like that, just dismiss him without a word after what had happened between them.

She swallowed hard and stood up slowly, feeling her body tremble with fear, sadness and stress. She opened it and he stepped inside, closing her balcony door behind him, glancing at her quickly with concerned eyes, tense.

"What's going on?" He asked immediately, furrowing his brow, his voice trembling as he looked at her pleadingly.

He was afraid of what she would answer.

She pressed her lips together, looking away, feeling tears coming to the corners of her eyes, her body quivering all over. She shifted from foot to foot feeling overwhelmed and heartbroken at the same time.

"He knows. He knows it was my face you gave to your Virgin Mary." She muttered, looking up at him with suffering painted on her face, pulling in air with difficulty. She stepped back as he made a move towards her, but his hand caught her by the nape of her neck, pulling her close, shushing her tenderly.

"− shhh −" He whispered, pressing his forehead against hers, but she shook her head, tightening her hand on his wrist.

"− it won't work − someone will catch us − we won't hide −" She whispered, feeling tears begin to run down her cheeks and she sobbed quietly, heartbroken. He hushed her again, snuggling her face into his chest, embracing her tightly, tucking his nose into her hair.

She clung to him, clenching her fingers on his t-shirt, taking in the scent of his perfume, feeling so safe in his arms, so comfortable that it made her shiver in pain.

He was silent for a long moment, stroking her back and hair, listening to her raspy, anxious breathing.

"Just tell me if you want to try." He whispered quietly, and she felt a squeeze in her heart, feeling so painfully torn, at once wanting it with all her heart and panicking about the consequences of such a decision.

"I'm scared." She whispered in a trembling voice. He grasped her cheeks gently in his hand and lifted her face to look at him.

"I'm scared too, but that's not what I asked you." He said lowly, looking at her with a calmness that amazed her, a certainty and determination in his voice. She swallowed with difficulty, looking at him with her lips slightly parted.

I want to try.

It won't work.

I'm scared.

It's hard.

I want to try.

I don't know.

God.

"I don't know if you believe in God, but I do. Despite what has happened to me, I believe in him and that he is merciful. I also believe that he put you in my path, that he made me choose you because you are his gift, that he knows neither of us wants to do anything bad. I have never had the opportunity to care or look after anyone before in my life, but I want to do so for you. My sketches, your face that I painted, was an expression of my desperation and suffering, but this is the last time I let anyone see what I feel for you. This is the last time I put you in danger." He whispered in a trembling voice, making her completely stunned, tucking her hair behind her ear with a light, affectionate gesture of his fingers, a gesture that said 'you are mine'; 'I will protect you'; 'trust me'.

She looked at him with her lips slightly parted, feeling her heart pounding hard – she had the feeling that he himself was on the verge of crying, his fingers tracing the skin of her cheek was trembling, his gaze full of pain and affection from which she grew hot.

"Please, protect me." She mumbled helplessly, surrendering, feeling that she didn't have the strength to stand up to this, that even if she tried to lie to herself when she returned to the university she couldn't stop thinking about him, that it couldn't be undone anymore, that it was too late, that he had violently forced his way into her heart and she knew he had no intention of leaving it.

She saw him draw in a loud breath and sigh with relief, a small, shy smile crossed his face, gratitude that she had decided to trust him, that she wanted him to take care of her.

"I'll. I promise." He whispered, stroking her cheek with his fingers, and after a moment they leaned towards each other and kissed, deeply and tenderly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She felt butterflies in her stomach at the thought of how infatuated he must have been with her, how much he must have wanted her, to need her touch, her tenderness, her kisses so much despite his experiences, despite his trauma.

"− do you want to finish what we started yesterday? −" He asked in a quiet, trembling voice, as if unsure and ashamed himself of how much he needed her closeness, how much he desired her.

She nodded, not knowing what to answer, and they kissed again, this time more greedily, more passionately, as if they had finally accepted the fact that they both wanted this, that things would be what they were meant to be, that all they wanted and needed now was each other.

This time it was he who took her hand in his and led her to her bed, it was he who sat up, looking up at her, breathing unevenly.

"Can I stroke your cheek?" She asked quietly, longing to do so for so long, from the moment he touched her for the first time.

She saw him swallow loudly, looking at her with wide eyes, and then he nodded. She lifted her hand slowly and he closed his eyelids, drawing in air loudly as her fingers touched his skin.

"Are you okay?" She asked quietly, and he nodded and hummed under his breath, tense.

After a moment, however, she saw his lips tighten in discomfort, his face contorted in a sudden expression of pain and despair, he grabbed her wrist and shook his head.

"− no − I − I'm not − I'm sorry −" He mumbled out and she quickly took her hand away, horrified by his condition, by the fact that he hid his face in his hands and burst into loud sobs, by the fact that his body began to tremble in convulsions.

She knelt on the floor in front of him, looking at him in pain and disbelief, not knowing what to do, holding her hands over his knees, afraid to touch him, that she would only make his condition worse.

"− I'm begging you, don't apologise − I'm the one who's sorry − so much has happened, I shouldn't have asked for this − forgive me, I didn't mean to hurt you −" She mumbled out on the verge of crying, hearing his accelerated, breaking breath, his body trembling from crying.

"− hurt me? − you can't even touch me − fuck! −" He growled out with difficulty through his tears, desperation and disappointment with himself in his voice, with the hope that something had changed, that something had finally snapped inside him.

She didn't know what to say, what to do, how to soothe him without even being able to embrace him, hug him.

"− that whore − then when she came to me − she touched me, she fucking touched me everywhere − my cheeks, my shoulders, my chest, my stomach, my −" He couldn't finish, speaking with such deep sorrow that her throat tightened. She felt tears under her eyelids as he uncovered his face in front of her, looking at her as if he was searching for understanding, as if he needed to confide in someone at last.

He drew in a deep breath, gathering himself to speak his next sentence, raising his hand like a professor who wanted to explain something to his student.

"− she touched me everywhere − e v e r y w h e r e − as if she wanted to contaminate my body − to make sure that no one would ever touch me after her again −" He spoke the last sentence in a low, breaking voice, tears in his eyes again. She covered her mouth with her hand, feeling that her whole body was shaking, that she was in such a state as he was.

She was terrified.

"− she destroyed me as a man − as a boy − you were right − it doesn't make sense − you don't deserve this, you will only face rejection from me −" He muttered covering his face with his hand, struggling to utter his words between trying to catch his breath out loud – she felt a powerful sting in her heart at his thought of her wanting to abandon him because he saw no hope for himself, because he was disappointed.

"− you said you would never touch a woman before me, and yet you've been sleeping in the same bed with me for the past two nights − you've been holding my hand and kissing me − you demand too much of yourself and you think I demand the same, but that's not true − I just want you to be there for me −" She said brokenly, realising how much she had gotten herself into this, how much she didn't want him to suddenly become a stranger to her again, to disappear from her life.

She heard him trying to calm down, grasping at her words like a razor, himself clearly no longer knowing what he was thinking, terrified.

"− I − I − I think I'm about to throw up −" He muttered, and she quickly picked herself up from the ground, running for the first thing she thought would come in handy, which was a vase, pulling the flowers out of it quickly and handing it to him.

Barely in time, he merely turned his back on her and vomited, quivering all over. She sat beside him on her bed, looking at him with an anguish she had never experienced before in her life, her trembling hands wiping away the tears of pain that streamed down her face.

She suffered because she couldn't even stroke his back, she suffered because she didn't know if she could at least touch his hand, or if it would be too much now, she had never felt so helpless before in her life.

She couldn't find words of comfort for him.

Easy, nothing happened, everything will be fine sounded only like empty phrases.

"− I'll stay with you − I'll take my duvet, we'll go to your room and I'll lie down on the armchair next to you − I'll be with you, okay? −" She asked in a trembling voice, fearing that in desperation he would now try to reject her. He, however, was panting loudly, still with his back turned to her, trying to calm his breathing.

He nodded his head.

He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment to bring himself and the vase to order, not letting her do it for him, and then left her room without looking at her. She took her duvet quickly and ran out after him barefoot, noticing with relief that he had left his balcony door open.

She followed him in, seeing that he had checked that the door to his room was closed and was watching her vigilantly as she closed his balcony door behind her.

He wanted to be sure that no stranger would enter at night.

That no one would hurt him.

Resigned, he moved slowly towards his bed and lay on his stomach with his head facing her, not looking at her but in front of him, his gaze blank, cold.

Just like when she met him.

She thought with a squeeze of her heart that perhaps if she hadn't wanted to touch him it wouldn't have happened and she felt like crying again, but she thought she had to be strong for him.

She sat down in the armchair by the coffee table standing a short distance from his bed and covered herself with her duvet. He rose suddenly, without looking at her.

"− you'll be uncomfortable there − lie on the bed, I'll sleep in the armchair −" He said indifferently, and she shook her head, covering herself more tightly.

"− no −" She burbled wrinkling her brow, preparing to resist if necessary. He looked at her, seeming more tired than ever.

"− come to bed −" He whispered, moving back, laying down on his sheets, and she shook her head.

"− I don't need to…−"

"Come here. I want you close." He said in a matter-of-fact, confident voice, and she swallowed loudly, looking at him uncertainly. She stood up slowly, circling the bed, laying down slowly on the opposite side of it, as far away from him as possible.

He was lying with his back to her and not looking at her, but she heard his breathing quicken once more, his body starting to tremble again.

He cried.

"− will you stroke my head? −" He whispered in a breaking voice, a shiver went through her when she realised how much he needed her, how much he was suffering.

"− I don't want to hurt you again −" She whispered uncertainly, looking up at him in pain, seeing his chest fall and rise in anxious breaths.

"− please −" He said in such a tone that she felt like her heart had just broke.

She moved a little closer to him with a quiet creak of the mattress so that she could reach him with her hand, but not touch him in any other way. She slowly lifted her trembling palm and combed her fingers through his hair in a slow, soft, gentle motion.

She felt him flinch and wanted to ask what was going on, if he didn't want it after all, but he spoke up first.

"− don't stop −"

And so she lifted her hand again with a pounding heart, placing it on his head, brushing her fingers through his hair with a delicate, tender gesture exactly as he had done the first night.

"− I will watch over you all night − no one will come in here − no one will touch you − you are safe − try to sleep −" She whispered tenderly, her hand trailing through his hair in slow, steady movements. She heard him swallow hard, but did not speak.

As promised, she forced herself to stay awake, or remain only half asleep, alert to his every movement. He woke up once in a while with a sigh and only glanced at her, terrified to feel her touch, but as soon as he recognised her something in his gaze softened.

"− sleep −" He whispered, but she shook her head, playing with his short hair. He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, as if he was thinking about something.

"− embrace me − I want to feel you close −" He hummed, and she looked at him tenderly. She rose slowly, moving closer to him with her quilt, not stopping to stroke him, resting her arm on his back now, putting her head a little above his.

He moved closer to her, snuggling his forehead into the hollow of her neck, and finally fell into a peaceful sleep.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

[flouqic-jaye]

ೀ friction & fire ( 방찬 )

PROLOGUE having a duo stage with one of your rival idols was definitely not the best idea, but how did his lips end up on yours?

𝓘NFO

bangchan x fem reader enemies to ??? angst suggestive idols au 𝟲𝟴𝟰 making out tension use of profanity ｡｡

Seeing the man you loathe next to you while getting ready to go on stage was not a good mix. His typical, arrogant smirk that appeared as soon as he spotted you glaring made an overwhelming amount of anger flow through your body. All you wanted to do was slap his fucking gorgeous face.

“Hey sweetheart,” he teased, chuckling at the grimace that formed on your face.

“Can you fuck off? I have fans to perform for.”

“Awe, you can’t handle a bit of teasing? I didn’t know the company’s princess was so soft.” He mocked, grinning in the way that made you want to rip him apart.

You folded your arms tightly around your chest and shot him an evil glare, making him raise an eyebrow in surprise from the look you gave him. Though you happened to miss the quick glance his orbs took at your lips. It seemed like you had always had problems with Chris. Ever since the day you’d both become the leaders of your group, you’d always been rivals, well, that’s how you took it. He was just, good at everything. And it pissed you off. So you countered it by being a better leader than him, and how much worse could JYP make it by giving you two a duo stage together. The whole room always burned from the tension between you two when you practiced. It was like he always had something to criticise you about and if he wasn’t criticising you, he was teasing you, everyday, of every week with him felt more like hell on earth as it progressed. It’s always been a battle with him for the best leader and it seems like it always will.

“You know what, maybe I can’t handle a bit of teasing, so what? I’m still always gonna beat you at your job. Sucks to be second place hm?” His jaw clenched and his teasing expression turned into a venomous stare aimed at your smirk directed to him.

“Atleast I can take being second place without feeling mediocre.” He spat back at you, insolently. Your breath hitched at the statement and you stayed quiet realising he wasn’t wrong and just ignored him to get ready for the performance.

He took a step closer toward you and your breath stopped, before he glanced at your lips and gazed back into your eyes, what was he doing? He stepped closer and sighed before cupping your heated cheek, he still held eye contact with you but you became flustered and looked away before he gently brought your face back to him. “Can I kiss you?” he spoke softly, those words that you never thought you’d hear from him. The man you thought despised you since you’d met, the man that always sighed when he was made to work with you, just asked you for a kiss? And you said-

“Yes.” You spoke hastily, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss with your thoughts blanking as your mouth met his. “Fuck, your lips taste better than I imagined, so fucking sweet,” he panted out, making your cheeks heat up, before cupping your face again and crashing his lips onto yours again and moaning into the kiss. A single one of your hands from the nape of this neck, found their way to his scalp and scratched his hair softly, making him softly moan into the kiss. He released his mouth from the kiss just to regain his breath,

“Chris the-,” but before you could finish his lips were on yours again and his tongue danced in your mouth as he held your waist and forgot about all else going on. But you pulled away, still panting for breath as guilt seeped in for your fans.

“Chris we have to go perform.” You whispered hesitantly,

“Y/n, respectfully, fuck everyone out there. I need you so bad, please.” He whined with the most beautiful puppy eyes ever. Your heart was aching to stay with him, but you also didn’t want to disappoint your fans… But you know what?

“Fuck it, just kiss me again.”

[babygirlispunk]

Summer Fling - PART THREE

Pedro Pascal x f!Reader

summary: meaningful words are exchanged and built up tension between you and Pedro is released... kind of.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, dry humping/fucking, fingering.

Word count: 3.8k

A/N: keeping this one sweet and simple, thank you so much to everyone who has commented, shared and liked the last two parts. means so much and motivates me, didn't think I'd be posting three parts within a week 🫶

PREV - MASTERLIST - NEXT

The uber ride to his hotel was silent. You both hadn't spoken a single word since you got into the elevator. You weren't sure what was going on in his mind either since you were avoiding eye contact with him, feeling shy at the idea of what is likely to happen when you reached his hotel room. Apparently liquid courage had a time limit because you certainly weren't feeling as bold as before. If anything, your eyes were getting heavy and sleepiness was taking over.

The only thing keeping you conscious right now was Pedro's touch keeping you present in the waking world. The sloppy kisses along your neck in the elevator down, his hand wrapped tight around yours when waiting for the uber, the trail he'd slide up and down with the tips of his fingers along your thigh while in the car, the way he hugged you from behind with one arm while his other hand found its way to the hem of your dress and lifting it so his fingers could ever so gently caress circles on the fabric of underwear as you both watched the numbers on the elevator ascend...

As you stood at his door while he rummaged through his pockets to find the key card, you took out your phone to let Syria know you're okay. You struggled to type as your body starts to feel tired and you were seeing double of the screen.

You: I dint dish. With Ped at hoteel.

Syria: Will u be ok?? I'll come get u if you don't want to sleep with him??

You: of corse i want to sleeep him text you tomoz

Syria: ur drunk as fuck, are you 100% sure??

You: dont cock bock me pls

Syria: be safe baby girl xx

You look back up from your phone and Pedro is waiting for you at the door way, looking concerned.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" You grin back at him for reassurance though he doesn't look convinced.

"You were just typing really slow on your phone... and you're swaying on the spot."

"Oh." you laugh nervously. "Did drink quite a bit."

He cocks his head to the side, frowning. He sighs then taking your hand, he leads you inside. You're hoping he's going to take you the bed but instead he sits you down on a massive couch facing the floor to ceiling windows. While he walks off, you try to take in as much of your surroundings as you could. You realise that he had a studio style room.

As a celebrity you were fully expecting him to have a massive multi room penthouse or something but instead his chosen to stay in something more fitted for one person. Although it was bigger and fancier than something you could afford, and this couch was basically as king single bed in itself, it still felt humble for someone of his status.

Pedro appears in front of you again and hands you a cold water bottle, motioning you to drink it. You do as your told and he kneels in front of you. Watching with a side eye as you sip on the bottle, he's situated himself in front of you and is on his knees. Staring down intently and biting his inner lip. You follow his line of sight and you feel your core pool with arousal realising he's looking at your exposed lacy underwear. Your dress had hitched up your hips, exposing your lower half.

The longer his eyes linger, the wetter your felt yourself get. His eyes are met with yours. He licks his bottom lip, lowers his head and kisses your knee, not losing eye contact.

"Keep drinking the water." he says low and slow.

"Yes sir."

You do so but keep watching him as he places one hand on your calf and uses the other to unzip your boot. Sliding it slowly off your foot and placing it to the side, he moves to your other leg to do the same but slower. You listen as each hook of the zip undoes itself as he pulls it down. This time he raises your leg higher to his chest height, sliding the boot of your foot. You're losing concentration as water starts to spill the sides of your lips and run down your chin and neck.

His eyes had not left you once and you see him take in a deep inhale watching the water drip down you. Placing the Achilles of your foot on his shoulder, he softly places kisses on your leg. Closing the lid of the bottle you chuck it away and lean back into the couch wanting to have a full view of him making his way up your leg. He kisses, licks and nibbles his way down your thigh, beard and stache tickling against your skin, you throw your head back and the room is spinning but you whimper, begging him to hurry up and reach your pussy already.

But he stops.

You stare at the whirling ceiling waiting for him to continue, but he doesn't.

Bringing your head back down, you see him resting his cheek against your thigh, staring at you with those damn puppy eyes.

"What am I going to do with you..." he whispered as if it slipped from his mind out his mouth.

Impatient and slightly annoyed, you reach for his top and pull him to yourself. Kissing him hastily and humming into him, you reach your hand down to his crotch and palm him as desperately as you can through his jeans. He was already hard under your touch and you could really get a grasp of how big he could be, the thought of it increasing your already flooding wetness. You were so ready for him, to take him whole.

As you attempt to undo his pants, fingers struggling to undo his belt buckle, the kiss is broken as he pulls back. You stare at him, mouth open and disoriented, he shakes his head 'no'.

"When you're sober." he says sincerely.

"I am sober!" Your slurred words say otherwise.

"I'm going to change, stay here okay?"

You nod begrudgingly and he gets up onto his feet. As he stands in front of you, his crotch is eye level and you basically drool at the sight of his large bulge, frowning when he walks away.

Waiting for him to change, you get comfortable into the couch, watching night life bustle below. Sparkling lights, honking cars, people walking along the wharf, even the stadium lights where beaming bright into the stars.

Pedro drops himself next to you on the couch and when you look at him, you swear he's teasing you on purpose. He changed his jeans for a pair of sweatpants and of course they're grey. You squint at him for his audacity and he returns the look with a wink and pats his lap.

You lie your head down on his lap, sad that his hard on had gone down. He sweetly moves the hair that's fallen onto your face and tucks it behind your ear. He continues to pat your head, soothing you and building up your sleepiness.

"So what are you doing down under anyways."

"Just having a break. It's cold up north so I thought I would try somewhere different. My brother, Nico, suggested Australia and just went along with it and brought him and a few friends along too."

Thinking back you realised the guy he was talking to at New Year Eve and back at the bar must've been his brother.

"And how are you liking it so far?"

"Well this city reminds me a lot of New York, except hot. And the people are pretty chill for the most part. Nicer too. You guys certainly know how to party, I'll say that. Crazy but in a good way."

"Thanks I think." you laugh.

"I actually went west after the music festival. Gorgeous sites and beaches. Felt like a massive country town despite being a main city, but something... something was pulling me back here."

Pedro moves his hand to your shoulder and strokes your arm. Your mind lingers on his last words. Was it self-centred to think you were that 'something'. That kiss you shared was intense and did hold heavy for you but you couldn't imagine it was enough for him to come back in hopes of finding you in a city of millions. You just had to ask, not directly though.

"So... do you usually bring back women to your place after a night out or..."

You feel his stomach bump against the back of your head as he chuckles.

"No, not really. Its been awhile since the last time I've slept with someone. Been too busy to. I've been working so hard to get where I am but my siblings could see it take a toll on me. They basically held an intervention." You feel him take a deep breath. "Sorry, off track... I do- have slept with people I meet out but only if I really feel like I've connected with them in some way otherwise I just get to know them first."

You feel your heart skip a beat. You didn't expect an answer any deeper then a yes or no, but you were grateful he felt comfortable enough to speak openly like that though it makes you question where you stand on that spectrum of 'connection'. You turn onto your back so you're able to look up at him. His face is solemn, looking out the window but scrunches a smile at you.

"And what happens to these connections?" you ask hesitantly.

"I chicken out and let them go...or they were simply one sided." his voice trails off and he looks away. You clearly had hit a soft spot.

Was this a one sided connection? You obviously were connected to him sexually, he was your celebrity crush and anyone would take that chance. You have probably shared more kisses and touches then you have words but you couldn't think of anyone else who had made you feel this way, an unexplainable pull that has brought you back into his arms by some miracle.

Or you're just majorly overthinking e v e r y t h i n g and were the exception. A simple hook up.

"I have to know..." you wanted to lighten the mood, so you figured you'd tease him a little. "How do you reeeeeally feel about being the internets Daddy?"

He looks down at you, eyebrows raised and amused. You stick your tongue at him to make sure he knows you're playing around.

"It's fun with the fans, not so much when it's all interviewers ask me to get clicks and reactions. So I just play dumb for the most part."

"Understandable. You're handsome but you're also really fucking talented. A shame you weren't recognise earlier."

"A fan are we?" he teases, grabbing your face and squeezing your cheeks into a fishy face.

"Don't act like you didn't know old man." you say through fishy lips.

"Ouch." he uses his valley girl accent and you both giggle.

He leans in for a quick kiss, soft but heavy, making your cheeks flush at the suddenness of it and how loaded it felt. You try to get a read of his face but all you can pick up is a quick flash of anxiousness in his eyes.

"What was that for?"

"Just felt like it." he shrugs. Something was bothering him.

"What's on your mind."

He's eyes become heavy, his mouth is twitching nervously, bending and hyper extending his thumb. Looking through the window, you can tell his mind is running and is contemplating sharing his thoughts. Eyes darting back to you, he takes a deep jagged breath.

"Without trying to sound like a crazy person, before we even kissed, when I saw you for the first time after you bumped me, I just felt something. A pull. I couldn't stop looking at you. Your energy and smile reminded me of someone special to me. We kissed, then you were gone. I tried not to dwell on the feeling and you're so... young, I thought I was being that stereotypical creepy guy... But I found myself back here. Seeing you again was like finding a needle in a haystack, yet there you were, at the bar. Admittedly I was scared to approach you first, I didn't want to come off as some crazy stalker. But I couldn't let you get away this time. You rejected me of course." He chuckles softly remembering how you pass him up. "But I think that pull brought you back to me."

Butterflies erupt in your abdomen, not quite believing what you were hearing. It felt like a camera crew was going to jump out of no where and tell you you're getting punked. Or did you drink so much at the bar you passed out and dreaming this all up?

Pedro desperately searches your face for an answer. "I sound insane don't I?"

You reach out and cup his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. He nuzzles into it, kissing your palm.

He was real. This was real.

"I'm glad you found me." Was all you could say while feelings and words jumbled in your brain not being able to translate it into a coherent deeper sentence.

You both just stare deeply into each others eyes, no words being able to describe the feeling that was being shared between you two. You start yawning and all strength you have left to keep your eyes open is gone. He continues to stroke your head in his lap, whispering a song and lulling you to sleep.

Me complace amarte Disfruto acariciarte y ponerte a dormir Es escalofriante Tenerte de frente, hacerte sonreír...

Eyes slowly open to the view of the dawning city. Sunlight reflecting off building windows and the river. A pair of glasses sitting on the coffee table in front of you. You're still on the couch. As your brain catches up with your body you are able to feel and make sense of your surroundings. It's silent in the room except for the slow breath blowing on the back of your hair.

A warm body is pressed against your backside, legs tangled together. An arm is tucked underneath the crook of your neck, wrapped around your chest while the others is draped over your waist. You listen to the hum of his shallow breath. It seems like he moved some pillows and a blanket from the bed to the couch. You can't help but smile at his kindness and at the fact he didn't ditch you for the bed.

You carefully turn around as to not stir Pedro awake so you can look at him. Hair tousled, face relaxed, he almost looks younger than he is, as if all the worries in his world have left him. Last nights words echo in your head and those butterflies return.

Like instinct, you can't help yourself but kiss the along the ridge of his gorgeous nose. Tickling him, he twitches and scrunches his face. His eyes slowly flutter open, slightly blinded by the light from the window. Blinking away the sleep, he sees you and places a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Sorry." you whisper.

Another small kiss, this time on your nose.

"Good morning Soleada." his voice is husky from sleep, sending a tingling down you and waking your body up from inside. "Hope you don't mind that I stayed on the couch with you."

Dipping your head onto his neck, you give wet kisses to answer him. He groans softly as you make your way up to his ear and nibble it. Slipping your hand underneath his shirt, feeling up his lean back and wrapping your leg over his hip to bring his pelvis closer to yours.

Unlike his jeans you are able to get a better feel from his sweatpants of his cock twitching and growing against the fabric of your underwear.

You whimper while you suck on his ear lobe as you eagerly rub against him, the friction of the fabric building the heat. A hand suddenly slaps onto your ass and you let out a yelp at the sting that is muffled by Pedro's lips crashing onto yours. He didn't waste a second to dive his tongue in your mouth and you opened for him letting your tongue find his.

If the slap wasn't going to bruise, his death grip on your ass certainly would. The pain adding to the arousal, you needed to be closer to him. You use your free hand on his back to fiddle with your underwear trying to get it down without breaking the kiss. Realising you're struggling, Pedro helps you pull them down far enough that you're able to kick them the rest of the way off.

Hitching your leg up, Pedro rolls on to his back bringing you with him now resting on top straddling him, blanket slipping off you two and onto the floor. Now able to put your full weight down on his cock, you roll your hips deep into him and stimulate your clit.

"Fuck." He moans against your lips. "Need t-to get this off n-now."

He swiftly takes his own top off, only just now breaking the kiss then grabs the hem of your dress and pulls it up to get it past your head. You sit up to put your full body on display for him to devour with his eyes as you keep rolling your hips and you admire his sun kissed skin and broad chest and shoulders rising and falling, begging for air. His stomach is plush but still lean. He bites onto his bottom lip, eyes darting at every point of your body.

"So beautiful. God how did I let you go the first time. I could have had all this 2 weeks ago." he says it so breathlessly and sweet you can't help the whine that slips out your mouth. You need to feel every inch of him so bad, reaching for his sweat pants to pull them down but he stops you, gripping tightly around your wrists.

"Keep riding." he growls, eyes intense.

"But-"

"I said, keep riding." the dominance in his voice makes you blush not expecting this part of him but you don't think twice, placing your hands on his chest and harden your glides against the outline of his dick. With the help of his hands on your hips bringing you back and forth, you're able to get a consistent rhythm. Slowly a tightness builds in your lower stomach and you can't hold back the sounds escaping your lips.

"Don't be shy now. I need to hear you beautiful. I need to hear how good you feel."

You do as you're told, letting yourself be more vocal as each roll of your hips brings you higher, watching him through slitted eyes as he looks back and forth from your face and your clit grinding against him. With growing intensity, your arms are getting weaker and your arms begin you shake, losing your momentum. Pedro notices. Sitting up and holding you tight to his body, he swivels his with you around so that his back is resting the back of the couch.

He takes one of your boobs in his mouth and laps his tongue around your nipple, throwing your head back and grabbing his face to bring him closer to your chest.

"Ah! Pedro!" you moan out loud as he nips and bites at your nipple and slips a finger from behind into your pussy making you grind faster.

He pumps his fingers in and out, in and out in rhythm with your rolls, mouth sucking on your tit, your legs are starting to shake. You're so fucking close you can't stop moaning his name, pleading him to get you to the finish line and his hungry growls vibrate along your chest. He sticks in not just one but two more fingers, stretching you wide and massaging your walls inside. You're so wet the pain is pleasurable.

He moves away from your nipple and connects his forehead to your sweaty one, eyes staring deep into each other desperately trying not to close them from aching pleasure. There is so much yearning in his deep coffee eyes, you're almost lost in them if it weren't for his fingers, knuckle deep, each pump getting harder and faster helping you reach the edge of bliss as they hit in just the right spot.

"You feel so good like this beautiful, you're gonna feel so perfect on my cock."

With his sweet words, it sends you over. Your pussy pulses violently around his fingers, hips bucking and your stomach tightens making you keel over and scream out Pedro's name pressing hard against his forehead. Murmurs of your name and praises against your lips, he moves his fingers and rubs circles on your already over stimulated clit prolonging the orgasm, yelping out in pleasure and making stars in your vision as you squeeze your eyes shut tight.

"Good girl." He coos in your ear as the last of your spasms subside.

Shaking and breathless, you hug around his neck and your body slumps into his, feeling the hot touch of his chest and body, still straddling him. He brushes his fingers up and down your back, soothing you with hums as he kisses you on your cheek. You stay seated there in a breathy silence, regaining your energy back while listening to him continue to hum whatever song he was singing last night.

As you're mind comes back to reality, you begin to feel a cool wetness spreading against your inner thighs. You straighten up and look down at Pedro's lap, shuffling a little back to see the stark and massive wet patch on his sweats taking up the whole of his lap.

"Fuck." wide eyed, you meet his eyes and he only looks pleased with himself, a self-gratifying grin plastered across his face accentuating his dimple. Before you can say another words, he has your face cradled in his hands, showering your face with kisses.

"I like seeing and feeling how wet you are for me." He leans back and slides his hand under the elastic of his sweats and you watch him palm himself, letting out small grunts of delight. Your not surprised you can feel yourself getting excited again already, he is just so gorgeous and undeniably sexy in his actions and words. "Soaked right through Soleada."

Practically salivating and wanting to taste yourself on his cock you finger at the elastic of his waistband wanting to rip them off but of course he stops you, tsk tsk-ing at you. You pout in response. When will he let you finally touch him, like actually touch him skin to skin?

"Lets have breakfast and go beach." he says nonchalantly like you aren't butt naked in front of him and he's not soaked with your juices.

"You're kidding me. You get me naked but don't even fuck me? At least let me give you a blowie." you whine exasperated.

"Blowie?" he says imitating your accent.

"Blowjob." you mock back in an American accent.

He laughs out a wheezy laugh and its hard to stay mad at him with how adorable he sounds. Pouty lipped, he brings you in and pecks at your neck, seemingly his favourite spot on you, really not helping the growing arousal building up again deep in you.

"I'll make it worth the wait. I promise."

PREV - MASTERLIST - NEXT

check out my recs list for stories written by people with actual talent ♡

A/N: first time ever writing smut, please forgive me if its shit, I'm trying xx (also i do prefer any questions you have or whatever in my ask as this is a second account and it can get confusing ♡)

Tags: @mingeniee @ghostofjoharvelle @str84pedro @reidsog @pedro-pedrito-pascalito

[dreichrainbow]

DO IT AGAIN???

I'm not quite sure what happened here.. I was a woman possessed and wrote 736 words on my tablet because I couldn't sleep. I was actually enjoying writing some nonsense smut for the first time in years. But I needed to get this out of my system..

This fandom is going to end me.

I just need to shout this into void okay? Thanks.

No Nightingales

“You idiot, we could have been… us”

Aziraphale turns away from his best friend because it’s too much to bear and so he doesn’t realise that Crowley has strode over to him for one final desperate attempt at becoming an us. The angel barely has time to gasp in shock before Crowley grabs him by his lapels and slams their lips together.

Aziraphale vaguely wonders if the demon stopped time, because everything seems to happen in slow-motion.

No. Yes. Wha- what is he doing? Kissing? Is he kissing me? No, this can’t be happening. Stop.

Aziraphale grimaces and stares at Crowley through half-open eyes. He falters, his hands flailing at his side. Crowley pulls the angel impossibly closer and the blonde unintentionally closes his eyes and lets himself be drawn in.

I can’t. We can’t. Heaven and Hell will.. This is dangerous! But Crowley is right here. With me. Us.

For the briefest of moments, Aziraphale loses the battle inside his head and he melts into the kiss. His hands try to grip at the demon’s shoulders but they find no purchase. His hands instead press uselessly into Crowley’s back as Aziraphale leans into the serpent’s warmth.

Closer. More. Please. No! We mustn’t!

He lets go of Crowley’s back, but doesn’t have the willpower to push him away completely.

Selfish. Greedy.

But then Crowley roughly pulls himself away, his obscured eyes filled with pain. Aziraphale gasps, opening and closing his mouth to say something, anything, to make this all okay.

“I..”

His mouth is moving but no words come out. Crowley looks at his best friend with such profound sadness that Aziraphale wants to take him in his arms and fly them both away to the nearest star and never look back.

The universe needs me to be in heaven.

“I...”

Why would Crowley do this?

Aziraphale feels dizzy and confused. His lips still burn from the sudden onslaught.

We can’t be together. Not like this. The planet, our planet, is in danger.

He knows what he needs to say now and every fibre of his being is telling him not to.

Crowley will never come back.

He steels himself and looks at the demon with a mixture of heartbreak and resolve.

“I forgive you.”

Crowley sighs and Aziraphale nearly breaks down at the sound of utter hopelessness.

“Don’t bother.”

Crowley turns around and starts walking towards the door. They both feel the finality of 6000 years of companionship being torn apart. Aziraphale can’t breathe. His chest heaves as his eyes fill with tears.

Did Crowley really just...

The angel brings his hand up to his lips, trying to memorize the feel of Crowley’s bruising lips on his own. He is already struggling to remember and his heart shatters.

“Do that again.” He whispers when tears begin to fall onto his creased lapels. “Please, right now.”

“Do you mean that angel?”

Crowley had one hand on the door when the barely-there plea reached his ears. He’d spun around but not released the doorknob, which meant he stood in an uncomfortable twisted position. His serpentine spine could cope though as he stood frozen staring at the angel.

I can’t. Selfish. Greedy. Dangerous.

“I...”

Neither of them moved. Neither of them could. The tension and emotion weighing them down, overwhelming them.

“I...”

Thick tears continued to stream down Aziraphale’s cheeks.

We can’t.

“Yes.”

The word had barely left Aziraphale’s lips before Crowley’s were on his again. Aziraphale grabs the demon’s shoulders this time and pulls him so close they could have been one entity. Maybe they were.

“Angel...”

Fresh tears start falling on Aziraphale’s cheeks and it’s like a knife to his already battered heart when he realises that these are Crowley’s. He breaks their kiss to look at his kind, vulnerable, demon. The curly-haired angel gently kisses the tears away, one-by-one, before placing his hands on either side of the black sunglasses.

“May I?”

Crowley nods.

Slowly, Aziraphale removes the spectacles to reveal red-rimmed yellow eyes.

“Beautiful.”

He places a feather-light kisses on each eye, desperately trying to take away some of his demon’s pain.

“Angel..” Crowley says again.

“Yes, my dear?”

“I..”

The serpent’s eyes fill with new tears and Crowley’s voice breaks.

“I..”

“I know.”

Because he does. Some part of Aziraphale has always known. He and Crowley are parts of the same whole. Meant to be together. Meant to work together. Meant to safe the world they created, together.

“Me too.”

[m-jelly]

Chapter 10

Thank you @ladycheesington for the perfect banner

Vampire Levi x fem!reader

Victorian era like world, vampires, secrets, romance, falling in love, vampire lore, sexual tension, possessive Levi, mentions of pregnancy, protective Levi, emotional reader, emotional comfort, violence, blood, threats of violence, mentions of killing

In this chapter: A nightmare causes you to have a bad sleep. Levi comforts you and makes you feel better. Evan has been born and is very healthy. You are not so healthy and get a talking to about looking after yourself more. Rosaline makes her move with her guards and attacks, but with a lot of rage behind you both Levi and you manage to stop her.

Part 11

Pure fear consumed you as Rosaline clawed and scratched at your legs. It was impossible to scream like your mouth was locked up. No matter how much you fought and kicked, you couldn’t break free from her as she made her way closer to your baby bump. Tears ran down your cheeks when her fingers pushed into your belly trying to get your baby.

You sat up in bed with a cold sweat as your heart raced a few seconds later Levi woke up next to you due to the blood connection. You turned to your husband and wrapped your arms around him as you began to cry. Nothing was said between the two of you he just held you against him as you cried desperately in his arms.

He wiped your tears away and kissed you a few times. “Bad dream?”

You sniffed. “Yes.” A realisation hit you and you desperately needed to check something. You slipped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. “Please, please be okay.”

Levi hurried after you. “Darling?”

You stopped in front of the mirror and lifted your dress to check your big belly to see if everything was okay. “Thank goodness.” You lowered your dress and turned to Levi. “They’re okay.”

Levi walked up to you and placed his hands on your nine-month bump. “What happened?”

“I dreamt that Rosaline was clawing at my legs and then she pressed her fingers into my belly to get our baby.” You released a long sigh. “I just needed to be sure they were safe.”

He smiled sweetly at you. “They’re okay.” He leaned closer and kissed you. “Do you want to eat something? Go for a walk? Go to bed?”

You hummed in thought. “I would like some chocolate blood.”

He chuckled a little. “Sure, I’ll get some for you.” He held your hand and pulled you along to the dressing gowns. “Let’s make sure you are warm.” He put a warm dressing gown on you and tied the ties above your belly. “You look divine.”

You giggled. “Thank you.”

He yanked on his best dressing gown and presented you with your slippers. “Pop those on.”

You hummed as you did exactly as he asked. “Cosy.”

He held your hand again and pulled you to the kitchen to see only two staff members. “Excuse us, but my wife needs chocolate blood.” He released your hand and checked for what you wanted and found it. He pulled you close. “Want to eat in bed?”

“How about in the garden?”

“We can find a shaded spot and it is warm.” He hummed and walked out into the garden with you. “I won’t let anything happen to you or our baby. I know she hurt you before, but never again.”

You smiled at Levi. “I believe you.”

“I won’t ever leave your side.”

You hugged his side. “I believe you.”

He kissed the side of your head. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

He pulled you to the great oak tree and sat you on his lap. He opened the box and fed you the delicious chocolates. “Taste good?”

You licked his fingers once you ate the chocolate. “Mm, yes.”

He popped one into his mouth and hummed. “You’re right, it’s wonderful.” He squeezed you. “You are far more delicious though.”

You giggled. “Thank you.”

He held your chin and pulled your mouth open. He eyed your parted lips before tilting his head and kissing you. His tongue slipped into your mouth and moved passionately against yours. He slipped his hand under your dress and dressing gown and caressed your thigh.

Loving touches became a little heated. The grass was soft under your body as you were laid upon it. A soft breeze drifted through the oak tree as your body was showered with love. The sun was beginning to set causing the area to be basked in an orange and pink glow. It was hypnotic to be together and move under the perfect sky.

Chocolate broke in Levi’s mouth before your lips and tongue were joined together in a passionate kiss. Blood and chocolate mixed. Hands moved over each other as soft moans left each of you. Moving together you moved with love trying to reach a blissful end. Never before had you both done something so arousing in a public spot.

Tired bodies after gentle lovemaking lay together. As the two of you lay there panting, you were on your sides gazing at each other. Touches were gentle and loving. Fears and nightmares were long forgotten as you admired each other’s glows from euphoric orgasms. Blushes consumed your faces when you thought over what you both had just done.

You wiggled closer to Levi, his warmth drawing you in. You turned with your back against Levi and nestled yourself against him. The soft lips of your husband on your neck soothed you, along with his hand on your belly. “Levi.”

He leaned over and kissed you before softly saying your name. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

You rolled onto your back and smiled up at your husband. “No, you were perfect.”

He caressed your cheek as he gazed at you. He smiled sweetly at you before kissing you over and over. “Forgive me, but you are irresistible.”  

You giggled. “So are you, my darling, but I am near my due date and can’t make love to you as much as I used to.”

He placed his hand on your belly. “I know, my darling. You are incredible.”

You rubbed his cheek as you thought a moment. “I think we might have grass stains.”

He chuckled. “I think so too.”

You huffed a bit. “I don’t think I can get up.”

“That because of the baby or because I exhausted you?”

“Both.”

He blushed a bit. “I will carry you both to bed.”

You giggled in delight as he scooped you up into his arms. “Thank you.”

“I’m always happy to carry you like a bride.”

You blushed a little. “I meant umm…”

He looked down at you as he strolled. “You meant something else?”

“Thank you for making me feel like a bride again.”

He kissed you. “You’re welcome.”

You hummed. “Thank you also for doing all of this. My bad dream messed with me and you just soothed it all.”

He stood you before the bed and changed your clothes so they were clean and no longer stained. “Well, I’m glad I could soothe you during a rough time.”

You sat down and stared at your bump. “It’ll all be okay, right?”

Levi knelt in front of you and gazed up at you. “It will. It really will. I will make sure of it.” He kissed your belly. “I’ll protect you and our baby. Erwin and many others will help us put an end to Rosaline.”

“It’ll be okay.” You let out a long sigh. “You want to talk to our baby for a bit?”

Levi’s eyes lit up. He started kissing your belly and smiled. “Hello, my little flower. It’s daddy again. I have another story for you today!”

You giggled as Levi lovingly spoke to the baby and told them fun stories about his past. “You were a right rebel as a teen.”

“I had my moments.” He smirked at you. “I’m more of a naughty boy now.”

You blushed. “You really are.”

“You should lie back, my darling. I’ll talk to our baby. We have things to discuss.”

You wiggled on the bed and got comfortable. “Well, I wouldn’t want to disturb you both.” You hummed a laugh. “Behave.”

Levi smiled. “I will.” He leaned down and whispered. “Listen, little flower, I know you are going to love your mummy a whole bunch. She’s incredible. I will love you more than anything as well. We’ll work together to make her the happiest person in the world. We also gonna learn to share her too. I know we’ll get along perfectly. We’ll be best friends.”

You closed your eyes as you smiled. “Best friends, huh?”

He looked up at you. “Shhh. No listening.”

You ruffled Levi’s hair. “You’re cute.”

“Thank you, but you’re cuter.” He gasped. “You should be sleeping!”

You squealed with laughter as he started tickling you. “Stoooop.”

“Naughty wife.”

You giggled and gazed at him. “I am.”

He smiled at you then lay next to you and held you close. “Mine.”

“Yes, yours.”

Evan was the most beautiful baby boy you’d ever seen. Not only did you and Levi admire and fuss over him, but all the staff did, your parents and Levi’s. Evan had the biggest and brightest steel blue eyes, the same wonderful colour as Levi’s. He was always gazing so sweetly at you and Levi like he was deeply in love with you both. It warmed your hearts to know your child loved you.

There was still a deep fear in you that what happened to you had made Evan sick. So, you had Hange checked him over medically to see if he was sick. No matter how much you tried to heal yourself, the damage that had been done to you was irreversible. You could tell by the looks people gave you and their whispers that you should have been a very strong vampire, but Rosaline prevented that. You got a bit sickly sometimes because you were hurt during your development time.

Everyone made sure you felt strong and that you were supported. Giving birth to Evan was scary to many, but it went so smoothly. The pain was very minimal because your body was built for healing wounds thanks to the vampire blood. After you had Evan, you did take a turn and were weak for a few weeks. Many were worried about you but you and Levi held out hope and kept positive.

Hange blew on Evan’s belly making him wiggle in delight. “Your son is incredibly strong. I don’t see any side effects from what happened to you. It seems like momma bear took all the damage.”

You welled up at the news. “So, Evan is okay?”

She picked up your son. “He is more than okay. You have a very strong pure blood here. He will make the Ackerman family proud.”

You took Evan from Hange and hugged him as you cried. “My strong little man.”

Levi hugged you and Evan. “This is perfect news.” He gazed at Hange. “What about?”

Hange smiled. “It’s the same thing I said last time. She’ll get better in time. She needs to keep healing.”

Levi kissed your temple. “My strong wife.”

You smiled up at Levi. “I am.” You looked down at Evan as he pulled at your dress and whined. “I need to tend to Evan. I think he’s hungry.”

Levi followed you. “I’m coming with you.”

You rocked your son. “He’s so cute.”

“He is.” He looked over your shoulder. “It’s because he looks like you.”

You frowned a little before looking at your husband. “Me? He’s a splitting image of you.”

“He has your big eyes.”

You sighed. “You just want to shower in compliments, don’t you?”

He hummed a laugh. “You know me well.”

You sat down with Evan and let him feed. Baby vampires would have milk from their mother until their teeth started coming through and then they were changed to blood. It impressed you how much Evan ate, he often wanted to be fed and it was so strange not to have to change a nappy. Vampire babies were so unique and special, you couldn’t wait to see what happened when Evan grew up.

You patted Evan’s back making him burp. “When does he stop ageing?”

Levi sat behind you and hugged you. “When he reaches the human age of thirty.”

You tickled Evan’s cheek as he gazed at you. “He’ll live with us for eternity, right?”

Levi kissed your neck. “Yes.”

You played with Evan’s adorable locks. “He’s so perfect.”

“He is.” A chuckle escaped Levi. “He is locked onto you, huh? He’s always gazing at you.”

You turned and looked at your husband. “He stares at you when you’re around too.”

“He’s more transfixed by you.”

You looked down at your son. “That true?” He leaned down and kissed Evan’s cheek. “You love mummy?” You giggled as Evan touched and patted your face with a bright smile. “So adorable.” You pulled back and laughed as Evan wiggled his arms in excitement. “Someone is happy.”

Levi chuckled. “I would be if you did that to me.”

You turned your head and kissed Levi. “Like that?”

Levi whined a little. “Yes.”

“Shall we go for a walk?”

Levi hummed in thought. Now Evan was born, Rosaline would be coming for you and him. It was a scary time for you all as a family. The stress was getting to Levi and he wanted to lock you and Evan up and never let you go, but he knew very well he couldn’t do that. He was bouncing between the fear of losing you both and knowing that everything would be okay.

You tilted your head a moment. “Levi?”

He released a long sigh. “I uh…I don’t know. I need to think.”

You stood up with Evan. “It’ll be okay. Come on.”

He hurried after you. “Darling.”

You looked back at him. “It’ll be okay.” You opened the front door. “We can’t live in fear all the time.”

He rushed outside after you. “Darling, please.”

You stopped outside and gazed at him. “Yes?”

“Please, slow down. I just…I need to process things.”

You adjusted Evan so he could see Levi. “I love you.”

Levi blushed hard. “I love you too.”

“We both love you.” You walked up to Levi. “I know it’s hard. You lost me and got me back to find I was badly hurt. You had to hide me away and see me be sick after giving birth. I can’t imagine the anxiety and pain you experienced.”

“I feel selfish. You were the one who got hurt. You were the scared one. You were the one who was taken.” He lowered his head. “I shouldn’t be the one making a big deal.”

You handed Evan over to Levi. “I think you need baby therapy.”

His gaze softened as Evan stared at him. “Hello, my little flower.” He chuckled as Evan smiled and reached for Levi’s face. Levi kissed Evan’s face. “I love you more than words can describe. Both of you.” He released a long sigh. “I can’t lock you both up forever.” He looked up at you as Evan grabbed at Levi’s shirt. “But please listen to me when danger arrives. I have to keep you safe at all costs.”

“I swear.” You sighed. “And Levi? You’re not selfish at all. Losing your wife and child…I can’t imagine how terrifying that would be. If I lost you and Evan I would fall apart.” You caressed his cheek. “I have full faith in you and the others.”

He leaned into your touch. “Thank you.”

“If you think we should hide a bit longer, then we will.” You held Evan’s little hand. “I never thought I would say this before meeting you, but I hope you rip her fucking head off. Rosaline needs to die for the good of all vampires and humans.” You looked Levi in the eyes. “Are you okay with taking a life? It’ll stay with you for eternity.”

“Taking anyone else’s would be hard to do. I can take hers. I’ve dreamed of it for slow long. I have watched her slaughter friends of mine. She hurt you.” He snarled. “I want her dead.” He looked down at Evan when Evan giggled. “You like daddy’s fangs?”

“I think he does.” You hummed a laugh. “Little toothless vamp.”

Levi chuckled. “I can’t wait to see his baby teeth. They’ll be so cute.” He looked up at you. “Darling?” He reached for you. “Darling you’re bleeding.”

You reached up and touched your top lip and felt something wet. “Oh, it must be stress, or the sun or maybe not enough sleep.” You smiled at Levi. “I’ll go drink some blood and get a nap. Could you look after Evan for a while?”

He watched you hurry past. “Is there anything else I can do?”

You looked back. “Just look after our little boy.”

Levi stood in the front garden holding his son. He looked down at Evan and smiled softly to try and calm him. “It’s okay, Evan. Mummy needs some rest.”

Evan hiccupped before whining a little and welling up.

Levi wiped his son’s tears away. “I know. I know. I’m worried about her too.” He blew on his son’s cheeky making him squeal with laughter. “Come on, handsome. Let’s take a little walk. You need to see the world and your mummy needs to rest.”

Evan flapped his little arms and gripped Levi’s shirt as he babbled.

“I agree.” He reached the oak tree and sighed. “Your mummy and I love this tree.” He sat down and shifted Evan on his lap so he could see. “Isn’t it pretty?”

Evan stared out at the view as he sat on Levi’s lap. The firm hand of Levi was on his tummy holding him close. Evan’s little hand softly gripped Levi’s.

Levi kissed the top of Evan’s head. A delicate smell of flowers overwhelmed Levi making him tear up. The natural scent of his son was a mixture of the perfume you used and a sweet and soothing flower. It brought a tear to Levi’s eye at how you were always with him through Evan. No matter what, Levi was going to do everything he could for you and Evan. His determination was strong.

Evan shifted and whined a little as tiredness took over, along with missing you.

Levi kissed the top of Evan’s head. “You’re tired, huh? I guess we could do with a nap as well.” He got up and made his way back to the home. “I should talk to Hange.” He moved through the home to Hange again. “Can I have a word?”

Hange lit up when she saw Evan again. “Hi! It’s the cute little Ackerbaby!”

Levi handed Evan over to her to keep her calm. “Yes, focus on the baby so you’re calm.”

Hange giggled as Evan patted her face. “He’s so cute. How can I help?”

“My wife…her…her nose started bleeding.”

Hange looked over at her dear friend. “It did?”

Levi sat on the edge of the desk. “She said she’d have some blood and go to bed. Please…please tell me it’s just stress. Please tell me it’s nothing serious.” He gave Hange a pleading look. “Please.”

Hange crouched in front of Levi. “Listen to me, okay? That woman has been up most times you’ve been sleeping. She’s been working herself silly on her Lady duties and caring for your son. I’ve caught her and told her off. She hasn’t been eating much blood either. She’s running herself dry. This has nothing to do with the injuries she got, okay?”

Levi released a long sigh. “Thank you.”

She lifted Evan in front of her face. “That’s right Daddy! Mummy is safe! Now take me to mummy so we can all cuddle in bed.”

Levi chuckled. “Funny.” He took Evan from Hange. “I appreciate you, Erwin and Mike. You have no idea how wonderful you are to us as a family.” He stood up and smiled. “I’m glad you three are my friends for eternity.”

Hange smiled softly. “Me too. Now, go rest and have plenty of babies with your wife. I have a feeling you two are special and there will be more than Evan.”

Levi looked down at his sleepy son. “I think so too.”

“Sleep well.”

He bowed his head and made his way to the bedroom to see you were curled up in bed. He gently lay Evan in his cot and then moved the cot to his side of the bed. If Evan woke up and whined, Levi would hear it and be able to tend to him before you woke up. Levi wanted you to get plenty of rest.

Levi changed into his bed things and climbed in next to you. He instantly relaxed but you made him tense up just a little when you rolled over and snuggled up to him. “Love?”

You released a long sigh. “I was wondering when you’d join me.”

He rubbed your back. “I had a little walk with Evan.”

“Was it nice?”

“Yeah, we went to the oak tree you love.”

You leaned up and looked at Levi. “So cute.”

He caressed your cheek. “You have your colour back. Did you drink plenty of blood?”

“I did.” You sighed. “I need to admit something.”

“I’m listening.”

You lay against Levi. “I’ve not been sleeping most nights. I’ve been working on my Lady duties. I’ve been tending to Evan too. I’ve not been drinking much blood.”

He said your name with concern but a little sternly. “You can’t beat Rosaline like you want to by making yourself this sick.”

“I know.” You sat up on Levi. “I should be punished.”

Levi stared at you in your nightdress, the front was low allowing him to see the tops of your breasts. He admired your hair down and fluffy. He gulped when your thighs clenched him and the dress slipped off your shoulder. “Darling.”

You pouted. “Am I forgiven or will you punish me?”

Levi threw his arm over his eyes and groaned. “Fuck, darling you are adorable.”

You leaned on his chest. “Levi.”

He moved his arm and sighed. “You’re really beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“Can I get a kiss?”

You leaned down and kissed him. “I love you.”

He wrapped his arms around you and rolled onto you. He enjoyed the giggles that came from you. “You need to behave, Mrs Ackerman.”

“I will, I promise.”

He kissed you and hummed. “Please take care of your health more.”

You nibbled your lip. “I am sorry again for doing all those things without you knowing. I’ll be a good girl.”

He massaged his fingers into your hair. “Wake me up, okay?”

“I promise.”

“Thank you.”

You followed Evan as his little hands slapped on the floor while he crawled. You hummed a laugh as he got excited and moved as fast as possible towards the door. “You are so excited.” You opened the door to reveal Levi’s study at the hideaway home. “Go get him.”

Levi finished off a paper for Erwin. “I think that should finalise everything.”

Erwin looked it over. “Yeah. That’s everything in order. We can go ahead with the plan.”

“Good.”

Erwin shifted in his seat and smiled when he saw Evan crawling over. “Looks like the boss is here.”

Levi stood up and walked around his desk to see Evan coming over. “Evan!” He grinned in delight. “Hey, little flower.” He scooped up Evan and showered his face with kisses. “I hope you’ve had a nice time with mummy.” He looked over at the door to see you in a stunning dress. “Who is that beautiful woman?”

Evan reached for you. “Ma, ma, ma!”

Levi handed Evan over to Erwin. “Could you hold him a moment? I have a beautiful woman to kiss.”

Erwin adjusted Evan. “Hello, little man. It’s time to play with your uncle for a bit.”

Levi yanked you against him and growled. “Fuck, you are stunning.”

You hummed a laugh. “Thank you. You are very handsome today.”

Erwin carried Evan with him. “All right, Mr, let’s go play somewhere.” He hummed. “How about we play with Uncle Mike?”

Evan huffed a sigh and then began pulling at Erwin’s shirt. “Mm.”

“You thinking it over?”

Evan looked up at him and began giggling.

Erwin smiled. “Well, I’ll take that as a yes.” He hurried outside where Mike was in the garden with his two dogs. “Mike!”

Mike turned and grinned. “Hello, both.” He walked over and held Evan’s little hand. “What’s the plan today?”

“Keeping him busy while mummy and daddy play.”

Mike chuckled. “Levi keeps surprising me with how hungry he is.” He hummed in thought. “I can think of a few things we can do.”

“Can you?” Rosaline walked closer with a few vampire guards. “Does it involve me?”

Erwin growled. “Damn woman.”

She gasped in delight. “My baby has been born!” She squealed in delight. “Look at him! He looks just like Levi.”

Mike snarled. “Get Levi. My dogs and I will keep her back.”

Erwin backed up. “Be careful.” He moved fast through the home and knocked on the door hard. “Levi! Whatever you are doing with your wife has to stop!”

Loud stumbles and fumbling were heard before the door was thrown open to show Levi looking a bit messy. He panted and gulped. “What’s happening?”

“Rosaline is here. Mike is out there facing her alone.”

You hurried to the door with your dress just about put together. “She’s here?”

Erwin handed over Evan. “She is.”

Levi snarled. “It’s time. What about Hange? Any word from her?”

“She’s probably on her way back with Damian and his rebel group, but no word. We have to start the fight.”

Levi turned to you. “Keep Evan safe with you. If you need to run, run. The oak tree is a safe spot.”

You held Evan close and backed up. “Please, be safe.”

“I promise.” He kissed you and sighed through his nose. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He kissed Evan’s cheek. “Be good for mummy.”

You held Evan close as you watched your husband and his friends go off to fight the biggest battle of their lives. You looked down at Evan as he clung to you and began crying. You rocked him and bounced him as best as you could to make him happy. You paced in Levi’s office and couldn’t believe what had just happened. Only moments ago, Levi had been making love to you against his desk and now your son was crying in your arms as Levi was trying to kill Rosaline and her little army.

“It’s okay. I’ll be okay. Daddy will win.” You kissed his face. “It’s okay. Focus on mummy.”

Evan whimpered a little and gazed at you. “Ma, mm.”

The room became cold when a scream echoed down the hall. A little whine came from your son as footsteps got closer to the two of you. Instinct took over, you had to protect your son. With swift movements, you hurried to the balcony doors and opened them causing the sounds of the fighting to drift into the room. Your chest heaved in your corset as a slight panic set in. A deep animal instinct took over, you and Evan were in danger.

The door to the office splintered and groaned under a force before obliterating in parts and others blowing up into the room. Silence filled the room before a starved-looking vampire stepped into the room. He sniffed the room slightly before locking his gaze on you. A wicked grin spread over his cracked dry lips making him appear grotesque.

The chuckle that escaped him made your eyes well up with fear. “Little mouse. Time to play.”

You ran out onto the balcony and jumped off as the wicked man screamed in anger. You quickly glanced over to the fighting to see Levi slamming a blade into a guard’s chest. You looked up at the man above you to see he was coming. “LEVI!”

Levi glanced over at you to see the man jump down after you. He called your name right as he was attacked. “RUN!”

Tears filled your eyes as you began to panic. Thankfully, Levi’s blood within you commanded you to move. Before you registered what was going on, you were racing towards the oak tree just like Levi had told you. The precious bundle of joy in your arms was the priority, you needed to keep him safe. You would kill anyone who got in your way and hurt your precious baby boy.

You skidded to a stop when you saw Rosaline was waiting for you. “You!”

Rosaline grinned. “Look at you. You’ve healed up and turned into a lovely little vampire.” She gasped in delight. “And you gave birth to my beautiful son!”

“He is my son.”

She tilted her head and hummed. “I don’t think so. Give him to me.”

You snarled at her. “I’ll kill you.”

“You don’t have the strength.” She clicked her fingers. “Daniel, darling, do what you were made to do.”

You twisted back from the ghastly man who’d been following you. “Touch me and I rip your heart out.”

An evil laugh left him. “You wouldn’t be able to with a baby in your arms.”

You grabbed the bottom of your dress and tore it apart allowing you to get a long piece of fabric. Your body twisted and moved as he lunged for you over and over. With a few quick movements, you managed to tie Evan to your chest. You yanked the cloth tightly as Evan giggled at being so close to you. Now you were ready to fight and you were fuelled by rage towards the things that had been done to you, the fear they’d place you in and the constant running and hiding.

Rosaline screamed in frustration. “Get my BABY!”

The grinner launched at you and you let him. You caught his wrist and slammed the side of your hand against his neck. A choked cry fell out of him. You put all your strength into twisting his arm and causing the bone in his arm to splinter and shatter to pieces. With a strong yank, you threw him to the floor. Pure animalistic rage filled you and pumped through your veins. Kill was your instinct and kill was what you were going to do.

As your heart raced your body was filled with adrenaline. Your movements were swift as you swiped with your nails at the crazed man. Most would assume that it was vampire instinct, but for you this was motherly. No one could touch or hurt your precious baby. The desire to kill was a scary thing to have, but when it came to someone you loved sometimes you were willing to do anything possible.

A beautiful location that was known for your and Levi’s love was now going to be stained with blood. It didn’t matter what was going to happen to you, all that mattered was your child and your husband. The wind rushed by you as you sprinted towards the man before you. You launched yourself at him and slammed him against the floor and let your anger and pain take over.

Your fingers plunged deep into his chest, your nails piercing his heart as you slowly killed him. “Die.”

Rosaline grabbed your hair and ripped you away from her soldier, but it was too late for him because his heart was in your hand. “You nasty bitch.” She wrapped her hand around your neck and smirked. “You are weak. I made you weak with my little light game.”

You gasped and struggled under her. “Let. Me. Go!”

She gripped your neck hard and clawed your throat. “That’ll stop you a bit.” She grabbed Evan and ripped him from you making him scream and cry. “Hush now little one, your real momma is right here.”

You rolled onto your front and crawled towards her. “Ev…an…”

She slammed her foot down on your leg causing it to break. “You’re weaker than me and due to the damage I did to you, it’ll take a lot longer for you to heal up. I’ll take my son away from you and we’ll be long gone by the time you’re better.”

You pushed yourself up with a snarl and stumbled to your feet. “Give…him…back!”

She turned and stared at you. “How are you standing? Maybe I should rip your arm off, or a leg.”

You used the last of your speed and strength to steal Evan back into your arms. You stumbled with him and fell against the oak tree. “I’ve got you.”

Rosaline stared at her empty arms and then glared at you. “My baby.” The air grew cold. “Give him back.”

You clung to Evan as he did to you. The blood that poured from your wound was warm and was working hard to heal you. It was hard to ignore the throbbing in your leg, it was going to be impossible to move with it. The fight was over for you and you hoped so desperately that you had managed to give Levi plenty of time to catch up to you.

She moved closer to you. “I know I promised you to my brother, but I think killing you might be better.”

Evan cried hard against you. “Maaaaaa.”

“I’m right here, baby.”

You turned your body away from Rosaline and shielded Evan more. “Mm, my son.”

She pulled her leg back and smirked. “Let’s kick your head in, huh?”

You winced in preparation for the impact, but nothing came. A strangled plea caused you to open your eyes. Before you was the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen. Levi had Rosaline by the neck and was holding her up off the floor. Tears filled your eyes at the sight of your blood-covered husband. “Levi.”

He snarled at Rosaline. “I told you to leave us or you’ll die.”

Rosaline gasped. “Levi, my love, I did this for you.”

“I. Don’t. Want. YOU.”

Fear filled her eyes when she realised Levi was going to kill her. “W-Wait! You c-can’t kill me!” She was desperate. “I-I’m the Queen! Th-they’ll have your h-head!”

Levi snarled. “No. I’ll have yours.” He grabbed her hair with his other hand and pulled hard causing the skin on her neck to rip and tear.

Seeing the Queen having her head ripped off was not something you wanted to see or have your son see. You turned your body away and protected Evan as the screams from Rosaline turned to the sound of flesh tearing and blood gushing. You rocked Evan and showered his little head in kisses as your neck healed up, but your leg was taking a lot longer.

“Darling? Darling, it’s okay to look now.”

You opened your eyes to see Levi’s sweet smiling face in front of you. “Levi. Is she?”

“Yes.” He scooped you up into his arms. “You fought well.”

“Thank you.”

He carried you and Evan back to the home. “We can go back to our home now. No more hiding.”

You closed your eyes. “Home.”

He smiled and looked down at Evan babbling away. “Mummy did amazing in protecting you.”

You hummed a laugh. “I did, didn’t I?”

“You did. Rest, okay? I’ll take care of everything.”

[b4tasquad]

✭ RELEASING ANGER: GAVI

Authors note: first time ever writing smut… don’t know if I really fw it tbh but it’s alright🤷‍♀️

Warnings: smut! unprotected sex, dry humping, cursing. lmk if I should include more

…

“No.” You shake your head, a look of disbelief at the judge’s decision. “What the fuck is he doing!”

Your boyfriend seems equally as mad from his crouched position on the pitch. A hand comes to harshly bang against the grass, his head thrown back in pure anger. Gavi is mad, and rightfully so.

When the Barcelona player and the opposing team fought for the ball, you knew something would happen. The other player had harshly tugged on Gavi’s jersey, sending the 18-year-old flying back into the player. Gavi’s elbow made contact with the other guy’s neck, a result of the other person’s own actions.

As the guy fell to the grass, hands at his neck with what looked like faux pain, you were confident the judge would realise it was all fake. What you, alongside everyone else hadn’t seen coming was Gavi, Barcelona’s golden boy, getting a red card.

Cries of outrage drowned out your boyfriend cussing the judge out. You weren’t doing much better, feeling your face heat up at the unfairness. Well, you didn’t know much about football, but to you, this seemed so wrong. It might’ve been slightly because it was your boyfriend on the receiving end of this “injustice”

Either way, you watched with wide eyes as your boyfriend got up from the grass, body stiff as he pushed away anyone that even came near him. Pedri tried to calm him down, not wanting the already bad situation to escalate. Gavi had none of that, and chose to not listen to anyone, not even his best friend.

Even Xavi, who was always the first one to reprimand Gavi let him be as the teenager stormed away, disappearing into the tunnel. Choosing to take action, you get up from your seat, excusing yourself from the people you had been in conversation with earlier. You make your way to the changing rooms, looking for your favourite player.

He doesn’t even look up when the door opens, legs tapping against the floor in rapid movements as his hands come to roughly push back his hair. “Amor.” You call out, watching as he looks up. Unlike usual, his gaze doesn’t soften once seeing your face, instead his eyes get colder.

“You saw what that fucking dick did.” His tone isn’t questioning, instead, he says it like it’s something you should agree with. Believing it’s best to agree with him, you nod.

“I saw, baby. It was so unfair.” Your words do nothing to ease his emotions, and a sarcastic laugh is all he answers with. Not knowing what to do, you step closer to him, feeling as if the distance between you did nothing good. As if it’s on reflex, Gavi opens up his arms, welcoming you to sit on his lap. “What can I do to make it better?”

The footballer looks up at you through his long lashes as you sit sideways on his lap. Your fingers brush the hair out of his face, as he seems to ponder on your request.

“Anything?” He questions, slyness coating his words, but you nod either way.

“Anything for you.” For the first time since the situation on the pitch, a smile graces his face. Gavi starts to rub at your back, hands sliding under your jersey as they make contact with your skin. It’s innocent until the movements start to trail in other directions. “Pablo.” Is all you can say as his cold hands brushes against the underside of your boob, your bra getting pulled up a little.

“You said anything, right?” His words are mere whispers as his lips make contact with your collarbone. Your position gives him access to your neck, and he takes his sweet time kissing and sucking at your skin. “Let me.”

You look around. In the locker room during a game was risky, anyone could step in at any moment and catch you guys first hand. But then again, if this was what he needed to relieve his tension, you would gladly contribute. “Fast.”

The second that leaves your mouth, the athlete is ready. His hands grip at your hips as he gives your chest area all his attention. To get more comfortable, you sling your leg over his, now straddling his lap. Something solid brushes against your ass, and you quickly take notice of the growing budge in your boyfriends pants.

In a need to relieve some tension, you start to move your body in rhythmical movements on him. His groan of pleasure encourages you to keep going as he now pulls at your shirt. Pulling it over your body, you throw it away from you, leaning towards Gavi to press his lips to yours, your movements against him never stopping.

His kisses are rough, but so are his hands that slides your hips over his bulge. Dragging his mouth across your chin, Gavi bites at your ear. “Off.” He demands, pulling at your pants. You nod eagerly, doing as he says while the boy himself, rids himself of his shorts, leaving him only in his boxer.

Now both in your underwear, you start to grind your hips against his again, lips connecting roughly. Your whimpers of his name does nothing to tame the growing problem under you, and after a few minutes of making out in your underwear, Gavi roughly pulls it off.

“Please.” You beg. There’s no need, you can easily see where this was going, but you were desperate for him to fill you up. Right now.

“Patience, Princesa.” Gavi drowns out your protests as he pulls down the last thing separating the two of you. His lips are quick to connects to your exposed cleavage and without warning he slides you into him. The feeling of him in you is something that you could never describe with simple words. It felt like everything was missing til his body mingled with yours, making you feel whole.

“Fuck!” You moan loudly, the pain of him stretching you out not turning into pleasure just yet. Gavi has no care for that as he snaps his hips into yours, trying to hit as deep as he could before pulling back out to repeat it all over again. Once you finally feel yourself getting accustomed to the situation, your painful shouts turn sexual.

The sounds coming from the two of you are pornographic, your loud and careless whines alongside his strained groans describing the pleasure the two of you were experiencing.

You push your hair back as you put your whole body into keeping up with the athlete under you. Gavi was one that could keep going for hours, his stamina as a footballer aiding him. Usually you could go for a while as well, but the work of being on top was becoming unbearable.

“It’s too much.” Your body slouches against his as it all gets exactly too much. Him in you, the kisses he’s littering everywhere alongside your own rapid movements. The pleasure could send you into a coma and you wouldn’t be surprised.

“Take it.” He simply states, now pounding into you in a harder pace.

“I can’t.” You cry out, eyes filling with tears at how good he was doing you. Gavi pushes your face out of his neck with a firm hand on your throat. His eyes bore into yours.

“You can and you will.” His lips silences your loud moan as he hits a particular deep spot inside you, his hips snapping against yours harshly. The knot in your stomach which you’ve tried to ignore becomes the only thing you can focus on as your boyfriend fuckes you senseless.

You can’t even make out words through your pants, only managing to sigh against his mouth, your pussy squeezing around his length in warning. Seemingly understanding, a look of pride crosses his face at this.

“You’ve been so good, princesa.” He praises you, knowing that would tip you off the edge. And that it did. Your hands around his neck, claw at his back as you drown out your moans into his neck. Gavi fuckes you through your high, only letting himself go ones you’ve finished.

The boy slowly pulls out of you, wincing as his sensitive dick pushed out of your warm walls. You feel an emptiness at his movements, but quickly forget about it as you’re still in your high, a sick smile on your face.

You lean back agains the wall, watching as your boyfriend pulls his shorts on again, before turning to you. His eyes which ones were cold and furious, much more calmer now. His lips connect with your heated up cheek, showing his gratitude through affection.

“Wow.” Is all he says as he too, leans back to take a moment to relax.

[purefrostbyte]

“You have Work to do Princess” -Shoto Todoroki

Warnings: Cock warming, dom/sub, swearing, mention of stomach bulge 

It had been a long week of hero work, 2 bank robberies, 5 villain attacks and 3 drug busts all only accruing on your shifts. You cursed whatever god was out there who seemed to have it out for you, making your way to your office to start on the, no doubt, mountain of paperwork accumulated from the week’s events. You sigh as your suspicion is confirmed and your desk is piled in paperwork and reports needing to be filled out. You stretched, hearing the soft pop of tension being released in your back before heading for your desk to set to work.

It was 2:30pm when you had started however you were still at it by 7:45pm. You groaned, looking at the pitiful third you had managed to complete in the span of 5 hours. You rolled your neck before reaching into your pocket to check your phone. You weren’t surprised at what you saw, Todoroki Shoto, your boyfriend of 8 months now, had left your message on read. He was supposed to take you on a date tonight, however the mountain of paperwork had made you have to postpone….again. You groaned, clutching your head as panic fills your head. You had only been dating for 8 months, but you had had a crush on Todoroki since 2 year

Originally, neither of you did anything about your feelings. The start of a new career is stressful and both of you had your own goals to achieve. However now that you two had finally gotten together, after a rather confusing and awkward confession from both sides, now it seemed the universe was hell bent on splitting you up. You sent another apology, swearing that you’ll take him out after everything has calmed down, but that too was left on read. You sigh sadly, putting your phone away and getting back to work when the sound of the elevator down the hall dinged, signally the arrival of someone in the office. You furrowed your eyebrows as you had seen no one in the office when you had left to get a cup and of coffee. This meant someone had come back to the office, but who would come back at 7:48pm?

Just as you got up to investigate, the door to your office swung open revealing none other than your boyfriend holding a packet of takeout from his favourite soba place. “Shoto?” you gasped, rushing around your desk to hug him. As your arms clasped around his neck you realised just how much you had missed him, the scent of mint and cedar fulling your senses. “Hello Princess,” he said as he kissed your forehead. “Figured I’d bring the date to you since we haven’t had any time together these last few days.” You smiled up at him, he’s so sweet. “Thank you,” you breathed, kissing his cheek and enjoying you comfort of his arms around you. “Come Princess,” he moved you to the couch in your office, “Let’s eat something.”

True to Shoto, he had brought you your favourite Yaki Udon from the little corner restaurant by his apartment. After a conversation of the week’s events, continuously talking with your mouth full because you’re so hungry yet so excited, you settled down with a quiet laugh. Shoto smiled softly at you before glancing over to your paper clad desk. You followed his gaze and sighed, “Thank you so much my love, but I have to get some more paperwork done before I can go home.” You watched as something in Shoto’s eyes changed and a small smirk spread across his cheeks. “Why don’t I stay with you, keep you a little company?” his voice came out raspy and you couldn’t help but silently nod in agreement. Shoto stood up, taking your hand and leading you back to your desk. You didn’t realise what was happening until Shoto was seated in your chair and patting his lap.

You blushed, it wasn’t like you and Shoto hadn’t done this things before, it was the setting of it all. You moved to sit down, cautiously at first but Shoto grabbed your hips and planted you right on him, leaving no room for argument. He pulled the chair closer to your desk before settling his arms around your waist. “Go on Love,” his whispered into your neck causing a shiver to run down your spine. Shakely, you set to work determined to finish so you can go home with your boyfriend, but Shoto seemed to have a different idea. It wasn’t long after you started that Shoto started to leave wet, lazy kisses up and down you neck, seemingly bored with the situation. You started to lose focus, it had been awhile since Shoto had been able to lay his hands on you, and your body desperately missed the feeling. “Shoto,” you whisper breathlessly, “You can’t do that, I can’t focus if you-“

“Stand up,” his voice left no room to argue, and instantly you stood up. You could hear the smug smile, even if you couldn’t see him. However, before you could complain or ask what he was doing, the shorts of your hero sort were pulled down. You gasped, whipping your head round only to see Shoto’s smug face and his sweatpants pulled down enough for his semi hard dick. Your breath hitched as he looked you dead in the eyes as he stroked himself. “Come on Princess,” he rasped as he became fully hard, “Take a seat.” You whined, “Shoto, we can’t. It’s the office and I need to concentrate-“

“Sit Y/N” He ordered and like an obedient sub, you did. And god if it wasn’t everything you needed. The stretch burned, but god the feeling of being filled by him was worth it. “Good Girl,” he whispered in your ear, hands rubbing circles into your hips. “Go on Princess, you have work to do, and if you can finish what you need to tonight, I reward you.” The way he said it made you clench, the promise of more if you could just push forward with the next 6 reports. “Ok,” you breathe, picking up your pen and trying to focus on the papers in front of you.

You were 1,5 half reports in when Shoto threw another curve ball at you, reaching his hand up you shirt to play with your breasts causing you to falter and drop your pen. “Ah ah Princess,” he taunted, pinching your nipple. “You’ve got work to do Love, if you want that reward,” his voice was a haze, your body a live wire. “But Shoto,” you whined as you grinded your hips down, “I can’t, you feel so good Shoto I can’t-“ your plead fell on deaf ears. “You can and you will.” He demanded, gripping your hips until they stilled. You whine again, but he only bites your shoulder as a response. “Work Princess, now.” Your breathing was heavy but you obeyed, picking up your pen and slowly resuming your work.

Shoto however was relentless. He teased and teased, pinching your nipples, sucking hickeys into your neck, even grinding up into you on occasion to get a reaction out of before shutting you down and commanding you to work. However you were finally done as you signed off the last report and placed it into the envelope with your stamp of approval. “Im done,” you sighed grinding down into him with a delighted moan. “Good Girl,” he praised as he too grinded up into you, just to hear your delighted and relieved moans. “I think my Princess deserves a reward,” he punctuate his statement with a thrust which caused you to moan and clench around him. “Please Shoto. Please, I’ve been so good for you,” you pleaded before you were forcibly bent over your desk. “Don’t worry Princess, you’ll be rewarded.”

Shoto began to thrust in and out of you, holding you down by your neck as the force of is thrusts rocked you and the desk. “Fuck Shoto,” you moaned, he reached so deep in you, fulled you up until a slight bulge was seen in your stomach. “Fuck baby it’s been so long,” he grunted as he landed a smack to your ass, “Fuck you always take me so well baby, feel so good on my cock.” You choked a moan as a particularly deep thrust brushed your g-spot. “Fuck Shoto please, right there, please, please,” you begged as Shoto started to abuse that spot over and over, “Fuck baby, if you keep- keep squeezing me like that I won’t last-“ He was close, you could hear in raspy and whiny his voice became. He reached around your hip, rubbing tight circles into your clit which caused you to sob in pleasure. “Please, Shoto Please,” You chanted it, holding onto the words like a mantra until your orgasm lit up your nerves. “Fuck Princess,” he groaned before pulling out and pumping his cock until he came on your ass.

Your breathing was heavy, eyelids half lidded as Shoto pulled you off the desk to once more sit on his lap. He littered kisses all over your shoulder, as you both came down front the high of your orgasms. “Come Princess,” he whispered softly, “Let’s go home and rest.”

[thunder-point]

I am THINKING about your hybrid au Cole!!!! And I have one question!!!!! WHAT ABOUT THE FIRST TIME PEEM EVER PURRED IN PHUM'S ARMS COLE!!!!!!!!!! HOW DID THAT GO DOWN IN THIS UNIVERSE? DID PHUM LOSE HIS ENTIRE MIND?? DID PEEM BLACK OUT FROM EMBARRASSMENT BECAUSE HE HADN'T EVEN REALISED HE COULD PURR FOR PHUM!!!!! COLE GIVE ME THE SWEET RELEASE OF DEATH OR GIVE ME ANSWERS!!!!!!

OH I HAVE SOME ANSWERS cos i thought about it quite a lot thank you cat hybrid peem my beloved

Honestly it's nothing monumental, but I will ramble a bit about it either way:

Purring shows a great deal of emotion, so many, especially cat hybrids, don't do it so freely, you get me?

But Peem does. A purr shows comfort, contentment, it reflects love. His family and friends are used to Peem purring quietly in his throat at the oddest of times when he's with them. When he and Q wearily tease each other late at night while they work on their paintings. When he helps with mom in the kitchen, or tends with his dad in the gardens, or helps Auntie at the cafe. At the gatherings in his backyard, if there's a few seconds of silence you can just hear the faint purr as he sips from his cup, or when they're all cuddled in his bed - he always gets put in the middle because his friends find it soothing to fall asleep to it. Sometimes, even when he gets a good grade, he can't help but let out a soft, short-lived purr before he reigns it in. For him it's easy, it's a gesture of affection that he never felt the need to hide.

He doesn't purr around Phum at all in those first weeks. Phum keeps him in constant tension, in confusion, fur fluffed up and ears alert. The first time he does purr because of Phum is after their first kiss. When he's alone on the steps, giddy and quivery. He nuzzles the plushie Phum won for him and lets out the gentlest purr and oh.

It's funny because it's then that he realizes just how quickly Phum can actually make him purr, and he resolves to actually hold it in in the next few months. Not show the annoying, distracting asshole that Peem is happy around him.

Not that it works too well.

And listen LISTEN ALAN Phum never thought he'd be that attracted to what old tales say should be his natural enemy, but he finds Peem so achingly pretty and goddamn charming. He has many things he adores.

The delicate arch of Peem's tail, the obvious irritation that makes the tip do a jerky back and forth. The soft flutter of his ears when he's surprised, flustered; the way he pins them back when they bicker. The peek of his small fangs when he parts his lips in concentration. The gentleness of his clawed hands despite their sharpness. Even the literal hiss in Peem's tone when he's upset does things to him.

But nothing beats the first time Peem purred for him. It wasn't a grand moment. Nothing earth-shattering. It happened the first time Phum thanked Peem, and told him he's had fun with them all, all happy and airy. Peem's chest bloomed with a sandy kind of surprise that warmed all over, melting like molten glass and the pleased purr got out before he could do anything to stop it.

Phum's ears perk up straighter than ever, keen, and his brown eyes go doe-like as he takes a step closer, voice overwhelmingly soft, "Did you just-"

Peem's tail jerks wildly under his shirt, ears going flat and he sputters before saying loudly. "I'm glad you had fun! That's amazing, that's-"

But Phum is still staring at him curiously, head cocking in that pup-like manner of his. Peem's voice wanes into something almost breathless because a wide palm reaches to press flat against his sternum, where the purr still rumbles subtly, nearly silent.

And then Phum's expression crumbles softly with a kind of longing that fills Peem with white shock. He takes back his warm touch with a sheepish shuffle of his feet, gives a small, grateful smile Peem's way.

Peem's purr explodes out of him again, making him flush and making Phum's ears go flat even if his tail goes wild and they stare at each with such round, startled eyes. But he just. Can't. Stop. Purring.

It suffices to say Phum realizes even faster that his gentle, genuine gestures towards Peem grant him purrs. And not much later, Peem realizes just how pliant Phum gets from them, all liquid soft and needy. The first time Phum lunges to nuzzle at his rumbling throat he straight up whines like a sad puppy when Peem's purr shatters with his startled giggle.

(Peem may have a weakness for Phum's hushed, pleading whines as well, but that's another thing entirely)

*clears throat* yep, that's. that's all. i don't even know if i put it in proper words I'm just very in love with these dorks

(also very small detail but sometimes peem stays overnight at the faculty to paint, phone propped on the easel on speaker so phum can hear his lazy purrs until he falls asleep. ok good bye)

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Look who’s procrastinating from their long fics by writing oneshots? Me!

Today’s @wolfstarmicrofic prompt is Glimpse!!

Also TW for attempted sa (nothing happens and it’s a really light reference but still)

Remus was going on a date.

With a guy who wasn’t Sirius.

Which honestly shouldn’t have been a problem, because they weren’t together, they had never been together, and if that date went well, then they never had a chance to be together.

But James could very clearly see that Sirius found it a problem, as he showed up unannounced to James and Lily’s flat, asking James if he wanted to go for a run. James knew all too well what that meant. He was upset and didn’t know whether or not he wanted to talk about it yet. Still, James dutifully got up, transformed in a field, and just… ran. They ran and ran and ran, and James could feel the tension slowly be released from Sirius. Eventually, they stopped by a small pond, and James shifted back to himself, rolling out his shoulders. From the corner of his eye, he watched Sirius doing the same, staring out into the clear water, watching the sunlight dancing across the stillness. James didn’t press the matter. He knew if Sirius wanted to talk, he would.

“It’s his third date, now.” Sirius finally got out.

Ah.

“Same guy?”

“Mm, same guy.” He sighs, and James finally turned his head towards Sirius, watching his jaw tense up. “And I- I want him to be happy, Prongs, I really do, it’s just- I fucked up, not telling him how I feel, and I’m- I just regret it. I regret it so fucking much, Prongs.”

“I know, Padfoot, I know.”

“What if I- what if I never get the chance to?” His voice caught in his throat, and James wrapped an arm around Sirius’ shoulders. “I can’t move on, James, I’ve tried so hard.” He rested his head on James’ shoulder, and he knew that there were at least a few tears rolling down Sirius’ cheeks, as his hand went up to swipe them away. James didn’t comment on it. “I love him.” He ended with a whisper, James tightening his grip.

“Is it too late to tell him?” James asked softly.

“Yeah, it is. I don’t want to swoop in and fuck up Remus’ new relationship. He deserves to be happy, even-“ he swallowed, fighting the breakdown. “Even if it’s not with me. Especially if it’s not with me, really.” Sirius added, under his breath, and James’ head snapped up sharply.

“Don’t say that.” He started sternly. “You’re fucking amazing, and anybody would be winning the lottery to be with you, alright?” James was not about to have Sirius talking badly about himself.

“Yes, fine, James, I’ll marry you, if you keep coming on to me.” Sirius heaved a dramatic sigh and James laughed, Sirius joining in quickly. He was happy that he could at least make Sirius smile.

They walked back to the flat, instead of apparating, the fresh air being good for the both of them, really.

James definitely didn’t expect to see Remus sat with Lily when they got back.

He was pretty sure that Sirius stopped breathing when he saw him, and James arched a confused eyebrow.

“Hey, Moony!” James started, furrowing his brow at the sight of Remus, suddenly realising just how… upset he looked. He was about to say something, but Sirius beat him to it.

“Are you alright? I thought you were going out with Sam.” Remus’ lips pressed into a thin line, giving both Sirius and James their answers. Something bad happened.

“Yeah, that’s not- that’s not happening anymore.” James’ eyes flicked to Sirius, trying to gauge his reaction. Sirius looked… angry? Yep, definitely angry. “He- I’m pretty sure he was just… pretending to care, so that he could fuck me. When I- when I said I wasn’t ready, yet, he just- he snapped. He got so fucking mad, and I- I wasn’t really bothered at first, I didn’t really think he would do much, we were at a café, but then he, uh, he grabbed my wrist across the table and went to drag me out, saying he put too much time and effort into me for me to hold out on him.” James’ heart dropped to his stomach. “He never got out the café, because I broke away and some other people intervened, they gave me the time to get out of there, so…” His hands were shaking violently at the memory. James only got a glimpse of Sirius’ silent, seething anger, before he spoke.

“I’ll fucking kill him.” He said under his breath which, for some reason, made Remus’ face brighten slightly.

“I would rather if you stayed here?” His voice raised at the end, like a question, and Sirius didn’t hesitate in sitting on the other side of Remus. “I actually went to find you, first, but you weren’t home.” he mumbled quietly, Sirius a brilliant shade of red in seconds, and… hold on.

Remus was blushing. A lot.

Holy fucking shit.

(No, this is not at all micro and it doesn’t have an ending because of major writers block, but here we are.)

[i-think-i-did-it-again]

Drunk II

Author's note: Ok, I actually had this chapter going a completely different way but kind of got caught up in the vibes so let me know what you think! Warning: swearing, bit of smut, angst, douchebag ex

You take a deep breath as you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You hate that when you look at yourself, all you see is flaws. Your skin isn’t good enough, your nose isn’t thin enough, your lips aren’t big enough, your body shape is wrong, your eyes are pretty enough. Sometimes when you look at your reflection, all you want to do is cry. You grimace and look away in disgust. You know why you feel this way. You never thought about any of those things until your ex pointed them out, subtly over your 2 year relationship. He never made you feel beautiful, not once. 

You sink down on the couch and stare at the news playing in the background. You’re not really taking anything in, you’re just watching the screen shift between stories and reporters. The bathroom door opens and your heart skips a literal beat. You hold your breath and refuse to release it until you hear his bedroom door open. You feel bad that you snuck out in the early hours of the morning but you were so mortified by what happened, that you couldn’t face Colson right away. You can’t deny it was the best sex of your life but you were drunk and he’s your roommate for fuck sake. Not only that but you were so shamed by the fact that he saw you naked, flaws and all is just too much for you to handle at this very delicate stage of single life.

You haven’t been with anyone since your ex and the two of you broke up over 6 months ago. You try and convince yourself that it’s because you ‘want to focus on you’ for a little while but the truth is, you met your ex in college, you were friends for a while until eventually you fell into something else and somehow became a couple. You left college, got jobs, moved in together and then everything kind of imploded when you woke up one day and realised you were miserable and he was glad you felt that way. Any time you showed any ounce of confidence or self-esteem, he squished it down with a criticism or a look that said ‘really? Are you sure you want to act like that?’.

“I think we should talk,” Colson murmurs, stepping into the living room and pulling you from your thoughts.

He’s dressed casually in a pair of dark grey sweats and a black t-shirt but fuck is he sex on legs. His hair is damp and dishevelled and his cheeks are tinged red from the steam of his shower. You clear your throat and turn away from him quickly, hoping he didn’t catch you staring.

“Look, I don’t want this to be awkward or anything,” you mumble and get to your feet quickly as he sits on the sofa beside you. “What happened, happened and I just don’t think we need to make the situation any worse by analysing it to death.”

“Do I make you uncomfortable, beautiful?” he stands and is in front of you in a second. The air is literally sucked out around you and you could cut the tension in the room with a knife.

“I-I didn’t um…say that.” you want to create distance between the two of you but just like last night, you can’t seem to bring yourself to move away from him. “I just don’t want you to think that I’m one of those needy girls who needs some form of validation after a one night stand.”

“Who said it was just going to be one night?” he smirks at you and your insides do that strange quiver again.

Before you can respond, Colson has your face between his large hands and is kissing you with so much force, you completely lose your train of thought. You know you should protest, your mind is screaming at you to protest but your body has a mind of its own entirely. You grip the back of his neck and pull him impossibly closer to you, inviting his tongue into your mouth with pleasure. He responds by wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up off the ground. You entwine your legs around his body and he lowers you onto the sofa, pressing his body against yours. You’re grinding, panting and moaning in unison with each other. Colson slips his hand under your shirt to grab your breast and you lean your chest up into it, allowing him to massage it. Just as you're about to rip his t-shirt from his body, a loud knock at your front door interrupts you. Colson groans and pulls himself away from you, taking a few deep breaths.

“Worst fucking timing in the world,” he mumbles under his breath as he stands to open the door. 

You see him adjust his junk as he walks to the front door and he looks back to smirk at you. You giggle and turn away from him to compose yourself. You hear the front door open and the sound of angered voices fills the front hall. You’re confused by Colson’s reaction until you hear the stranger more clearly. Your blood runs cold as you recognise your ex’s voice, trying to patronise Colson like he always does. The two of them never got along and you always put it down to them being so different but after your breakup you realised, it’s because your ex is an asshole. You storm down the hallway to give him a piece of your mind but Colson seems to be handling him well. Part of you feels that stepping in would be pointless but you’ve had a lot of time to think of what you’d say to him if you ever got the chance and fuck it now seems like a good time.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you push past Colson to get in your ex’s face and the look of surprise on it is kind of priceless.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” he scolds you in a firm tone but then looks over your shoulder at Colson’s venomous stare and he backs up a little. “A lady shouldn’t swear,” he tries to backtrack.

Normally, that tone of voice would make you back down immediately but you can feel this new confidence flowing through you as you stare at him. It’s possible you may still be drunk from the night before but you have this weird feeling of power all of a sudden. He doesn’t seem as intimidating as he appeared when you dated. Suddenly you can see his flaws and the attraction you once held for him is gone. His hair is receding, his body doesn’t look as appealing as it used. He no longer appears tall, strong and handsome and it’s as if a spell has been broken. You find yourself comparing him to Colson and suddenly, he comes up short in every department that matters and even some that don’t. You can’t stop your eyes from diverting to Colson’s crutch and you play it off as staring at the wall.

“Why are you here?” you ask nonchalantly, crossing your arms over your chest with annoyance.

“What has gotten into you?” he asks, completely dumbfounded and you can’t seem to stop the laugh that escapes your lips. 

You slap your hand over your mouth to keep the laugh from turning into a full on fit of giggles. Colson immediately realises where your mind has gone to and is grinning from ear to ear beside you, clearly not trying to hide his pride from your ex. Your ex looks between the two of you, his jaw practically on the floor. 

“Y-you,” he points to you. “A-and you?” and he points to Colson. Neither of you say anything but your smiles and silence answers the question for you. “What the fuck!?” he booms and you instinctively flinch away from him. Colson pulls you back from the door and closer to his side and that only angers him more. “How long has this been going on? Were you fucking him while we were together?! Oh I always knew you were a slut. So insecure about your looks and your subpar intelligence that you had to use your average looking body to get the attention you so desperately crave!”

Colson pushes you behind him and gets as close to your ex’s face as he possibly can, looking as menacing as possible. You can tell by the rigid posture of his shoulders and his shallowing breathing that he’s trying so hard to control his reaction around you. You’re pretty sure if you weren’t there, he would’ve knocked your ex on his ass. He’s a good head taller than your ex and has definitely been in enough physical fights that he can hold his own, more than you could say for your ex. The guy is scared of everything but weak willed women.

“I suggest you stop fucking talking right now and walk away before I make you, got it?” Colson spits at him, taking a step back to create some distance between the two of them.

“Fine but just you wait. She’ll get bored of you too and she’ll dump you just like she did to me,” he points at you, his eyes dark with resentment. 

“I’m pretty sure after what he did to me in bed last night, I’ll never be bored of him,” and with that you slam the door in his dumbfounded face.

You stand there for a few seconds trying to take in what just happened. As your ex’s words hit you, playing in your mind, an overwhelming feeling takes over you and you burst into tears. Colson says nothing, instead enveloping you in a hug so tightly it feels like he’s trying to hold you together as you fall apart in his arms. You hate that seeing your ex still causes you to react this way. No matter how powerful or confident you feel, he always finds a way to tear you down and make you feel like that scared college girl you used to be. He somehow makes you forget that you’re a grown woman. 

Maybe your ex is right though? Why would someone like Colson want to be with someone like you? You’re not really an interesting person. Last night was the first time you’ve gone out and stayed out past 10pm in a long time. You don’t have tattoos or crazy coloured hair like most of the women he brings home. You’re not adventurous. Hell, last night was the first time a man has ever made you orgasm during sex.

“I-I’m s-sorry. I can’t do this,” you pull away from Colson and turn to walk away from him, just wanting to be alone.

“No, don’t do this,” he begs you, grabbing your wrist and trying to pull you back to him but you resist.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply flatly.

“Don’t let that fuckwit ruin this,” he gestures back and forth between you. “I can see it. He got into your head, he’s making you doubt this. Don’t give him that power, he doesn’t deserve it!”

“I’m sorry,” is all you can say and you go to your bedroom, closing and locking the door behind you.

Colson jimmies the door handle a couple of times, banging on the wood begging for you to let him in but you ignore him. Eventually the banging stops and you lay on your bed, holding your pillow and staring at the wall. You scold yourself for being so stupid as to think that last night could magically fix everything that is wrong with you. 

‘Naive fool’ your self-conscious scolds you and you nod your head in agreement.

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Day 24 No Time to Rest

Days late for day 24 of whumpril

and a return to the Soulmark Au, which I need a better name for it, any ideas?

Pretty much just JacksonXElijah as Hayley off to yell at Klaus, took me far longer to write this than I planned, also this was the one that started off for 'Touch staved Day 20'.

---

Jackson had fallen asleep the night before with both soulmates in his arms, it wasn't perfect with Hope not with them and as Elijah had been suffering through their combined venom to settle the new bond that would protect them and the pack from ever suffering the Crescent curse again but it was almost there.

So he wasn't that happy when he woke up to the sound of Hayley getting out of the shower, alone in Elijah's bed.

They had convinced Elijah not to deal with the side effects of the venom alone. And being on the other side of the river was the least amount of distance from Niklaus Mikealson that Jackson could be happy with; he knew that would be shrinking sooner than he’d like.

Like it or not they shared a daughter, because while Hope wasn’t his blood he loved that little girl, she was family, and Klaus’s reaction to them taking her somewhere safe but away from her was to curse the entire pack, so they would settled close enough that Klaus could see and hear his daughter, and with Elijah staying with them he would have even less to complain about.

He was going to miss living in the Bayou but living across from the Mikaelsons would ensure he could keep track of the threats they happen to lure to the city which means he could use it to help protect his pack. 

Elijah had already arranged the apartment across from the abattoir into Jackson’s name during the month since he had been discovered as their third mark while also working to create the spell to free them.

“What are you doing out here?��� Hayley's voice carried to the bedroom, the reply came softer forcing Jackson to rely on his supernatural hearing. 

“I had to get a drink.” Elijah sounded better than the night before letting Jackson release the last bit of tension he had been holding since the vampire had revealed his plan to suffer thought to effects of their bites after they had bitten him.

At the reminder one of his hands reached up to trace the small scars left by Elijah's fangs, set in place to match where his name appeared in Elijah's neck.

The anchors for the magic that had joined them all, Hayley had a matching set while Elijah had two larger scars, his bite on the other man's forearm and Hayley’s just above his hip, where they had both had grown up with the strange symbols they had learned were the runes of Elijah's name.

Four scars to bind Elijah to them and the pack and Hayley and himself to Elijah. It had appealed to Jackson when they had explained, an escape from the curse, future protection and Elijah becoming part of the pack in a way no one could argue.

Then Jackson had witnessed as Elijah suffered through the venom and realised Elijah had just added them to the list of people he would harm himself to help and Jackson didn’t like the idea he was now stuck watching as someone who was meant to be important to him care nothing for himself.

Jackson understood loyalty but Elijah took it to another level, he had little to none for himself, which was something he and Hayley would need to change.

“And couldn't make it back?” Hayley’s quip called him from his thoughts, he could see her expression, the slight smile, silent judgement and arched eyebrow.

“I didn't want to disturb either of you.” Elijah excused.

“Waking up to you missing disturbed me more than anything else you could have done returning to bed.” Hayley managed to explain his own thoughts as well.

“Are you going to pick up Hope?” Elijah ignored the clear reprimand in Hayley’s tone to ask.

“Yes.”

“I’ll-” Elijah started,

“No,” she cut him off quickly, “you stay here and recover.”

“I'm fine.” Elijah tried to argue but against Hayley and after they had spent most of last night watching as he suffered from the venom and his nightmares he was going to lose. Jackson’s pretty sure if Elijah hadn’t woken up before them Hayley would have found a way to keep him in it all day.

“Still, Freya is going to be there and you said you already arranged for the place next to the abattoir.” Hayley refreshed the plan, Elijah had only managed to tell them before the impromptu bonding ritual and had too quickly fallen to the venom to explain after, however Hayley had been texting Freya for details.

“I have.” 

“Then I'll explain the plan, Klaus can deal with having her out of his sight for the night and we’ll move in tomorrow.” 

“Are you sure?” Elijah asked.

“Yes, maybe while I deal with your brother, you and Jackson can start packing.” Hayley told Elijah and Jackson listened as she walked further away towards the door, before she called back “Oh and we're taking your bed, large enough for the rest three of us and it may be the months I've spent as a wolf but that was one of the most comfortable things I've slept on.”

Jackson agreed with that as he stretched out on it but it was better with two other bodies beside him though.

“Of course.” Elijah replied just before the door shut.

Jackson forces himself up from the bed as the quiet grows, there was no point being alone in the bed no matter how comfortable, when Elijah was in the living room, it wasn’t like he could get back to sleep, .

He finds Elijah draped across the couch in the sun. Long and lean, for once out of a suit and in looser fitted clothes, Jackson had to drag his eyes away from the bare strip of skin shown from where his shirt had ridden up.

He hadn’t really allowed himself to admire the other man before, only seeing him as competition and since discovering he was their third mark he was mostly dealing with trying not to lose control of his wolf instincts that wanted nothing more than to cover the man in his scent.

Something the other had listened to since Jackson had found more than a few pieces of his clothes in the other man's bedroom, mostly his flannel shirts and Jackson wished he could see the man in them, it would at least help him with the fact he still wanted to drown the man in his scent.

He’s not sure if it easier on Hayley due to her past with Elijah or as a hybrid the wolves instinct weren’t as loud but Jackson is deeply aware that his desire of cover the other is a remnant of his recent time trapped in the body of a wolf full time, it still isn't enough to stop him.

Elijah tensed as he drew closer but he doesn't ask him what he was doing or even open his eyes, Jackson kept watching carefully for any sign that Elijah couldn't remove him, he still wasn’t happy that the pack inbuilt protection for their mates had left Elijah helpless even if it had forced him to stop hiding.

Still he didn't open his eyes as Jackson placed a hand on the back of the couch, his shadow falling over the other making it clear what his plan was, he stayed almost frozen, Jackson noted as he kept watch while he carefully positioned himself over the other.

Slowly so the other could tell him to stop if he wanted.

Once he had settled he moved the hand he had placed on the back of the couch and slipped it under Elijah’s lower back, Elijah reacted only to lift himself up to make it easier.

Jackson was careful with his hand as he realised it had settled just above where Hayley had left her mark, while marvelling that he could wrap his arm around his wrist, the man was slimmer when free of his layer of fabric and suits.

Mentally he sighs, setting his head on the other man’s chest, with his awareness spread out through his body where they touched it was a constant reminder of the freedom from the curse.

Two legs, two arms, fingers, human.

The heart beating under his ear is slower than a humans but still a soothing rhythm.

“You're cooler than you were last night.” he said to fill the silence and to get the other to speak.

“Side effects of the venom,” Elijah explained and Jackson smothered the urge curled around the other tighter from the sheer apathy in his voice as he talks about the thing that had left him crying in his sleep the night before he should care more about something like that, “it caused a fever as my body had to fight it off.”

“So it's more like an infection than venom,” he questions instead of giving into his instinct, “This your normal temperature?”

“Yes.”

“Well that explains how you can walk around in suits in the height of summer.” he said to led them away from the more sober topic, he was pretty sure Elijah wouldn’t want to know why both he and Hayley want to kill his mother again.

“Yes, I suppose it does spare me needing to change all my wardrobe every season.” Elijah replies and Jackson has a small moment wondering about his wardrobe filled with suits that cost more than Jackson could ever imagine, some likely older than New Orleans itself.

“You're colder than Hayley.” he says instead, he thinks bringing up the cost of Elijah clothes might make him a little ill if he thinks too much on it, how much did the suit he ruined last month cost? the one he remembers chewing on as a wolf.

“Hayley’s a hybrid,” he explained ”we're both cooler than you.”

“Then I will be sleeping on you during the summer.” he smirks at the idea, it might be nice to have a cool body to rest on during the height of the humid nights, while watching the other’s face for any reaction.

“You prefer a cool pad over a soulmate.” Elijah opened his eyes, raising an eyebrow to look up at him with an almost expressionless face, Jackson looked down to meet the dark eyes.

“Why pick, when I have both in you.” he told him, softening his smirk to a smile he normally only shared with his family and Hayley.

Jackson watched as Elijah slowly grinned.

Jackson starred as he noticed Elijah’s grin was crooked, he hadn’t really noticed before, Elijah Mikaelson was a flawless immortal, near untouchable and unchanging, like a cold marble statue.

Yet he was, flawed, touchable, warm underneath Jackson, he stared more even as Elijah noticed his inspection, smile vanishing to be replaced by once again the cool look and a raised eyebrow.

It's the sheer contentment he feels, free of the curse, his pack safely returned to their families, his missing soulmate now known and in reach and Hayley to return with Hope today to start a new life tomorrow with all of them, that leads him to speak.

“Your smile’s adorable.” he grinned himself at the other man taking even more pleasure at the open shock and almost shy way Elijah looked away from a moment.

It was a shame he couldn’t blush, Jackson thought.

They settled back into quiet and Jackson let his eyes close, he could rest for a while before they had to plan for the move.

It was the surprise, which he blamed as he didn’t stop himself from letting out the almost moan of pleasure as strong fingers carded though his hair, he opened his eyes to look at Elijah.

The vampire once again had his eyes closed but Jackson knew this was a sign of trust and besides the soft smile of his face was one he had only seen being directed at Hayley or Hope, it seemed he was going to be getting the chance to see beyond the mask the vampire normally allowed the rest of the world to see.

His eyes followed the arm up until he had turned his head slightly to catch sight of the new scar on Elijah's forearm.

He smothered the urge to press a kiss to it, to trace the mark with his tongue, he and Hayley had agreed while Elijah was lost in the delirium to take it slower with their soulmate, besides they both knew Elijah would be more receptive from Hayley.

He was still struggling to deal with the idea that Elijah had known for a year and never admitted to it, had pushed Hayley to marry him while knowing he belonged with them, had tried to convince them to forget it after they discovered the truth.

He blamed the witch Celeste for hiding them from him first and then Elijah's family for somehow convincing him that his soulmates would be better off without him.

That was the first thing he and Hayley were going to unteach him.

He was blaming the soulmarks, to explain his own softening feeling to the formally cold manipulative bastard, so now he could see why Hayley was in love with the man besides the fact he looked pretty in the suits.

Not that he was any less cold and manipulating now, it was just that Jackson also knew what he looked like when he was crying out for his mother to stop or wide eyed as his lies were seen though and lost for words. 

He was reminded of that after about half an hour as Elijah’s fingers vanished from his hair and he felt him freeze beneath him. It was strange to realise how relaxed the other man had been before as he was faced with a throwback to the stone faced man who he first met as he opened his eyes to find a flat eyed expressively vampire staring back at him.

“Two of your pack arrived outside.” Elijah explained shifting himself up on his elbows, Jackson already missed the soft half smile.

“Yes,” he nodded, sliding his arm free from Elijah’s waist to place his hand on the arm rest behind Elijah’s head, he ignored the fact he was clearly straddling the other and Hayley would complain if she returned to find them like this, Jackson was meant to wait but he really didn’t want to let the other move to far from him now, ”they wanted to talk.” he explained, he had gotten the call while Hayley had been trying to get Elijah to drink and keep it down last night to he had been short with them, annoyed at their concern over the trust worthiness of his mate while the man in question suffered a room away..

“About?” Elijah asked as Jackson settled other hand on the other side of Elijah’s head, framing him.

“You.” he answered without moving, Elijah could move him by force he was stronger, he could ask him to move instead Elijah hummed in response.

“More of a reason for us to move.” he implied but made no attempt to escape.

 “I’m comfortable here.” he smirked, his weight resting basically on the others thighs.

“Jackson.“ Elijah sighed, and he realised he wasn’t the only one who had missed intimacy, he and Hayley had been trapped as wolves most of the time, Elijah was alone dealing with Klaus, looking after Hope and mourning his lover, the one Jackson had heard Klaus had made kill herself in front of him.

“I’m comfortable here,” he repeated, leaning closer to the other’s face.

“They won’t be comfortable speaking while I'm here.” Elijah reasoned instead of showing any true want to move himself.

“They speak their objections or they forget them.” Jackson shot back, soulmates were part of a pack the moment they accepted the bond, the names marked down in their pack’s book the moment they appeared on the skin. Elijah’s runes had been written in the book before Jackson had officially had his own name.

Besides Elijah was part of the pack, not just because of his marks but for the hours Jackson had watched him suffer from the venom to free them and protect them from the curse. Sure his family, mostly Klaus were a problem but not one they could remove so what were they expecting any of them to do about it.

“It’s not like you won’t hear them in the other room.” he added after a moment.

“I do have noise cancelling headphones.” Elijah replied.

Jackson blinked at a dozen mental images from the strangeness of a big pair of headphones clashing against the crisp cut of his suits to wondering if the vampire had the same oversensitivity that heightened senses caused freshly triggered wolves.

He knew the older the vampires the stronger they got, did that include their senses? Or had the Originals always been the same strengths?

His life was a lot easier when he didn’t need to care about these things.

“You're the reason, we’re back on two legs.” he tried instead,

“I don't need any appreciation for my deeds.” Elijah sighed

“Proof in that after a thousand years of watching Klaus” he snapped back before he could stop himself, there was a flicker of pain in the other’s face before it vanished as if never there, Jackson reacted without thinking, letting his forehead rest on the other man in silent apology before adding “Your part of the pack now, they need to get used to you.”

There was no noise in the apartment as they're eyes stayed locked inches from each other, Jackson smiled when the other gave in as Elijah sighed and dropped back from his elbows.

“Must I get involved in their little fights?” Elijah asked, his head rating on the arm rest, hair a finger breath from his hand, it itched to reach out and touch the surprisingly silky strands as he had the night before when Elijah was too out of it to remember.

“It would help once but i’m sure you’ll wipe the floor with them,” he grinned down before adding seriously  “just no teeth, for anyone, i've seen enough of you sick.”

“You were such kind nurses.” Elijah smiled, only a hint of mocking it his tone, before Jackson could stop himself he started leaning forward.

A knock at the door stopped him before he kissed the other and broke his promise to Hayley so much for needing to go slow.

“No time to rest.” Elijah spoke and Jackson had to swallow as he almost felt the words on his lips. 

“Doors open.” he called, sitting up slightly but not removing himself from Elijah.

He grinned at the pair of men that entered when he caught the reaction, the moment they recognized the shorter brown hair of the body beneath him wasn’t Hayley.

“Afternoon gentlemen.” Elijah greeted them as if he hadn’t just been arguing against his own inclusion, and that his place laying on the couch under Jackson was completely normal for them.  

Jackson wouldn’t mind if it became that.

[bellewintersroe]

Ronald Speirs x reader

Part 3! This should be better than the last part and less of a filler chapter?! I hope anyway.

Anyway, surprise surprise, sorry not sorry, this is smutty asf. Idk what’s wrong with me atm but whatever, I just need to write this whilst I can!!

Tw - 18+, sexual references, sex unprotected AGAIN lmfao, whatever, dirty talk, let’s just see what I end up writing.

Jenny keeps dreaming about Ron, now there’s no distractions with war, she finds the tension between the two of them too much and some how they end up in an office together… talks about fraternising ensue between the pair.

“You’re so good… so fucking good at that.” Ron whined, bucking his hips further up into my own. I was riding him, my hand pressed to his chest as his head dropped back, overwhelmed by the pleasure he was experiencing. He was beautiful, so overwhelmingly perfect, and he just oozed sex appeal.

“Keep riding me like that.” A soft spank was left on my ass cheek, my hips quickening their assault and my knees ached for release. “That’s it… cum for me Jenny, cum all over me.”

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna c-“ gasping, my eyes burst open, scanning around the room wildly. My heart was thumping against my ribcage and my momentary confusion was soon dissolved when I remembered where I was and what had just happened.

A stupid dream, another one. About Ron as well, god, these stupid wet dreams had to stop, what was I, a 14 year old boy?? Glancing around my own room, I was grateful I had my own space, able to not disturb any of the other girls from their slumbers.

As I slumped back down into the bed sheets, I couldn’t help but feel the aching of my core between my legs, sighing, I crossed my legs and attempted to ignore the sensation. I was becoming obsessed with the idea of being around Speirs, I hated it, another few days had passed and I just couldn’t clear my mind of all the nasty thoughts I had about my commanding officer. We could be dishonourably discharged, punished, locked up- even though the war was drawing to an end, the methods of punishment were still severe. My hand didn’t slip anywhere near my underwear this time, I just couldn’t give in to the thought of ruining mine and somebody else’s life. It was easier for me to think that when I wasn’t around him, when he was there, I felt compelled towards him. Fuck.

The following day, I’d spent my day off in the confinements of my bedroom. I’d had a relaxed morning, desperate to avoid the exact same guy I was also desperate to see again. The only time I’d ventured out was to go on a gentle stroll around the lake to meet Betty who would be waiting for me somewhere around the waters edge. It was tranquil, peaceful, I enjoyed myself. That was until I’d bumped into a group of men from a company I didn’t realise. They’d been drinking, and for the most part the majority just smiled and walked past me, but two guys towards the back of the group began nudging one another, sneering towards me. I knew better than to react, so I continued walking past them, praying nothing else would be said until they decided to steer directions and walk up at either side of me. “Hey, pretty, what’s such a nice dame like you doin’ walking all alone?” “I’m meeting somebody.” I politely responded, forcing a smile as I continued my quick pace to my destination. “Oh yeah, who? Your boyfriend?” The other one responded as I simply forced an awkward laugh. “Shut up, Frank, she’s obviously not taken if she’s walkin’ around here alone.” “Uh- I actually am.” I lied, crossing my arms over my chest defensively as I waited for my answer to get rid of them. “Oh, really? What’s his name?” “Where is he?” I winced at their questions, ignoring them again and continuing to walk forwards. I was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the interaction, especially with both of them being on either side of me. “You don’t speak very much do you?” The one I assumed was called ‘Frank’ questioned, almost stepping in front of me so I had to step around him. That’s where things got weird. Just as I stepped around this ‘Frank’, the other guy stepped straight up behind me, seeming to find it appropriate to place a hand on my lower hip. “Get off me!” I snapped, brushing his hand off and yelping in surprise as I turned around to face the two of them. “Hey!” A third voice erupted, bellowing from across the dusty track. As I turned over, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The moment couldn’t have been any more awkward than if it tried, but of course Speirs had witnessed the whole thing. “Oh great, who is that? Your boyfriend?” The first man leered as I watched Ron practically push straight past the second guy, snatching the other man’s arm. “Touch her again and I’ll break your fuckin’ arm. Both of you what’s your name and company? You’ve got nothing better to do than harass women, huh?” Woah. Even I was intimidated by Ron’s act of dominance. The men learnt the hard way not to mess with me again- or Captain Ronald Speirs. I’d never seen him in such a bad, bad mood and I didn’t know where to look when he and the two men’s commanding officer were practically telling them off like school children. As if the exchange couldn’t get anymore awkward, the men were fully escorted away to be dealt with, both their heads hung sheepishly low. Their commanding officer apologised to me once again before following the disgraced pair with a harsh stomp in his step. “You ok?” I was squinting watching the pair being practically arrested, my face only relaxing when I looked back over to Speirs. He was calm now, he wasn’t all pissed off and protective, even though I found that charming that he’d stand up for me, the way he was so soft now made me feel something deep within my chest. Something other than lust, oh no-

“I’m ok… thank you sir, I should go and find my friend.” “Where are you walking to? I’ll walk with you.” He swallowed as I averted my gaze from his. “To wherever my friend is, sir, Betty’s waiting for me somewhere.” “You don’t have to call me that, you know.” He muttered, beginning to walk besides me as I looked back up to him curiously. “Call you what?” I slowly asked, looking over his jawline that had a slight layer of stubble growing on. The afternoon sun was creating an orange glow across his profile, and I began to find myself admiring him in the most stupidest of moments.

“Just call me Ron.” He gently told me, kicking the dusty dirt below him. His words made me smile, the softness of them surprised me, before I then, of course, panicked that we were suddenly having a one on one conversation. “Okay… S- Ron.” I let out a soft breath of laughter at how normal it felt coming from my mouth. I’d only really called him that once before, and that’s when we slept together in the Eagles Nest. “I’ll have to get used to that.” I admitted. “I think I see your friend.” Ron then responded as I glimpsed up to see Betty waving me over. “Oh, yeah. Thank you for standing up for me earlier, I appreciate it.” Ron’s lips twitched half up as his eyes remained fixated on my own. “You let me know if anybody bothers you again.” Nodding, there was something a lot more innocent about the exchange compared to all the others we had. It felt pure, and it filled me with a sense of warmth. “Thank you, sir.” I quickly spoke, walking backwards, get still facing him. “Ron!” I corrected, before scurrying off to where my friend was.

* ”Then fourteen hundred you can report back to me that it all went smoothly in there.” Winters explained to me as we walked side by side towards battalion headquarters. Winters was busying everybody up, giving them ways to escape the war, whilst half of us nurses had been treat unfairly, he’d managed to get me out of a night shift by going down to a children’s hospital for the morning and visiting there. “Perfect, thank you so much, sir, I appreciate it.” I turned up to the red headed man with a smile on my face. “Good, you’ll be good help in there. It seems slightly more… alive than the night shift does.” “You’ve got a good point there.” I chuckled, entering the building to where a few of the other nurses were gathered around with our superiors. The majority of us had been fixed up with a good reasoning to get us off this unfair treatment, Winters wouldn’t have us being used unfairly.

The only space there was, was besides Captain Speirs at the back, as I walked over I smiled gently, swallowing the lump in my throat at the sight of him. I figured it would be substantially less awkward considering our interaction earlier, I hoped so anyway. Throughout the whole meeting I was only half listening, Ron’s arm would brush up against mine every now and then, and out of the corner of my eye I could see he was so close. If I stepped just the slightest bit closer, we’d be touching, to an outsider it looked normal, but to us it felt like there was something else completely different happening. Maybe that’s what he wanted, to play some kind of game, like cat and mouse. It was dangerous, so risky in a room full of all these people, but I liked the thrill of it. It felt like my breathing was uneasy, I swear he could tell, with one small glance to the side he’d be able to watch over my every movement.

Fidgeting, I moved my hand behind me, to rest on the table, but my fingers had brushed over his warm ones, and if I wasn’t crazy I swear I felt the nudge of his hand against my own. I remained completely still after that, feeling like a prey in that room under a predators beady eyes. Captain Speirs was so close to me, there was barely any room for small movements without grazing over one another. Worst of all, I wanted him to touch me- I wanted to touch him. After all the dreams I’d had about him…

There was a short film to be played, about the army nurses going into Japan. Exactly not what I wanted to think about, the impending threat of war not being over in the pacific somehow seemed even more daunting than everything we’d gone through in Europe. I switched my mind elsewhere, Ron. Avoiding listening to such statements such as ‘suicidal enemy’, I instead glanced down to the darkness that surrounded us in that small room. If he or I were to touch one another, nobody would know. He could probably slip a hand right up my dress and it would all be concealed by the darkness of the room. Sighing, I purposefully inched my hands ever so closer to him. Whilst I didn’t think he noticed, he did rest one hand on the table, the side closest to me. Stopping my movements, I glanced down to my left, making it a little obvious what I was doing. He must’ve noticed, copying my actions and gazing down to where my hand lingered before back up to the short film once again. For a moment, I thought he didn’t like it, so just as I went to retrieve my hand I was shocked when a simple finger ran over mine. A smile grew on my face, it was good it was dark in there because the footage was nothing to be smiling about. I felt his finger tip dance over the skin of my fingers, then my hand, before daring to reach behind me and stop at the tables edge. The small action drove me crazy, I think Ron knew it as well. When the lights were back on both of us acted like nothing had happened, despite the fact I was still breathing in manual mode, I semi ignored him, not knowing what to take from that situation.

Later that afternoon I was doing a few physical exams of the men for their records. I didn’t mind them, they passed time and I usually just got to spend time with the men I’d grew close friends with. It was 7pm, however before I’d got to the last man. “See you later, Alton, can you send in the next guy?” “Sure, I’ll catch you in a bit.” He winked, leaving the room as I ticked off a few more things on the paper before hearing the door shut quickly. “Oh, Captain Speirs, sir.” Scraping back my chair, I moved to stand at attention. “It’s fine.” He was quick to settle the formalities, handing me his papers over. “You’re here for a physical?” I asked dumbfounded as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Yes.” He responded, looking at me like I had two heads. What else would he be hear for? Stupid, stupid.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” I shook out of my awkwardness, glancing down to the papers on the table. “So you passed your physical exam by miles… you feeling okay in general?” My eyes widened seeing his physical scores. He was one of the top men, fastest, strongest- no wonder he was now the commanding officer. Ron nodded with a slight pout. “Okay, good.” I pushed the papers to one side, grabbing the stethoscope from the side. “I’m gonna just listen to you heart and breathing, take some blood and then I’ll start examining, come sit over here.” I nodded as he awkwardly took a seat in front of me. I smiled gently, moving over and pressing the stethoscope on his skin, under a loose gap in his shirt. Everything was fine, heart, lungs, but what I felt more awkward about was telling him to strip. “Um, if you just go behind the curtain and undress for me, same as always.” I avoided all eye contact, pretending to busy myself with a pen that I couldn’t find a home for. When I glanced up I noticed Ron attempting to undo his shirt right in front of me, my eyes widened. “Oh no, sir, you gotta go behind the curtain.” My hand landed on his as our eyes met for a brief few seconds. “Oh, okay.”

Within moments Ron was undressed and I was a blushing mess, of course he had his underwear on, but seeing him like this when we weren’t in a sexual situation made me al flustered. “You can come sit back down.” I watched as he sat back in front of me and I began examining, feeling his glands for any sign of bother, there was nothing.

“How much of this are you gonna do?” Ron then cleared his throat as I looked back up, my hand still rested on his chest. “How do you mean?” “As in… what else do you have to examine.” “oh, nothing private.” I sheepishly spoke. “That’s a man’s job, not mine.” An awkward giggle escaped my lips as I pressed over his chest, feeling for any abnormalities. I’d moved in closer, our knees knocking slightly, as I shuffled in my hair hearing him exhale gently. “You got any more after me?” Ron then questioned, my eyes lifting to really recognise how close we were. “No, you’re my last of the day.” My voice came out, barely a whisper as he nodded, a half smile growing on his face. Bashfully, I fluttered my eyes away, my heart rate taking off at a million miles per hour. Once everything was checked, sight, hearing, breathing- Ron was fine, but I however was left completely flustered, a literal mess, I was overheating as well. “You’re all done, everything’s fine.” My hand ran off his shoulder, standing back up from my chair, to push it back to where I got it from. “It is?” Ron spoke as I nodded. “Perfect, yeah. No surprise you got some of the top scores for your fitness earlier.” Ron sheepishly shrugged it off as I picked on the wooden table nervously as he stood up once again in front of me. “Don’t do that.” He winced, a hand covering mine. My gaze directed straight up to his, head tilting back to fully catch sight of him.

“Sorry.” My voice came out weak, like a whisper. “You said I was your last check up, right?” His voice lowered as I nodded, anticipating where this was going. His hand was still on mine, and we’d began to close the gap between us. “Yeah, last of the day. I got more tomorrow.” I averted my gaze one again, seeing him nod from the corner of my eye as his hand slipped off mine. Without thinking, I chased after it, my hand resting back in his again. “Ron, wait.” I stepped closer, borderline freaking out when I realised what I’d just done. Ron’s brows furrowed slightly, his free hand coming up to caress into my hair and over the side of my neck.

“You should go relax tonight.” He muttered, tracing his fingers across the sensitivity of my scalp. “I’m fine.” I sighed into his touch, hearing him hum out before moving closer to fully end the gap between us. Ron kissed me once sweetly, and again, before I felt myself practically dive on him. Shit, I couldn’t help it, I couldn’t get enough of him.

My fingers dug into the bare skin of his back, deepening the kiss as I couldn’t decide whether to yank on his underwear or his body to get even closer to me. The close proximity all day had ruined me, I was already aching desperately over him, and it was so wrong, in a physical exam with one of my superiors. But shit, I couldn’t help it. When my hands fell to his underwear, pushing on the band, he borderline pushed me back onto the desk, body toppling onto mine whilst pushing up my skirt. “I need you.” I admitted. “I just need you to fuck me.” The words came out bolder than what I expected. His fingers snapped at my underwear, stretching them down as he kicked at his fingers, lubricating my aching pussy before I pulled him by the ass into me. From the lack of foreplay I was still a little tight, but god I needed more of him, the second he entered me I let out a relieved sigh, feeling his arms wrap around my body to pull me close. His thrusts began, quick and harsh, filling me up in the way I’d needed. The sexual tension between us couldn’t be contained, and it always came to this in the most sneakiest of times. “Fuck me, sir.” I sighed out, keeping my voice on the low seeing as there was most likely people outside the door. Ron huffed with each thrust as he fucked into me, making the the table jump and move with each pump. He took a few harsh, slow thrusts, before giving it to me exactly how I wanted. One of his hands guided down to my clit, rubbing fast circles over my core as I covered my mouth with one hand.

Ron, knocked this hand away with his chin, attaching his lips onto mine as he groaned into the kiss causing me to scratch at his back harshly. “Please, please- like that, I’ve needed you so bad.” I admitted as he panted out, quickening his pace as he was encouraged by my words.

“Can’t stop thinking about you- about this.” He whispered back, grinding his hips right up to mine now as I let out a yelp maybe a little too loud. His words went straight to my chest, a warm swell filled me up and it caused me to scratch at his back more, Ron letting out a growl at the sensation.

It wasn’t long before I came crashing over the edge, babbling away as Ron moaned into my ear. “Cum all over me, fuck, that’s it.” He growled, biting down on my shoulder as his movements became choppy and strained. “Fuck.” “Cum for me, sir, fuck, I want it so bad.” With one last whimper from me, Ron pulled out and unloaded his seed onto my thighs, his high following mine shortly after as we both laid there breathing heavily. He was collapsed onto me, his cum rubbing up all over us uncomfortably. Grimacing, I glanced down as he followed my eyes. “Oh.” With that he was yanking tissues out of the box, wiping me clean before he did himself. I sat up on the table, still coming down from my high as Ron turned back to me, reaching forwards to do up my buttons. “So, is this becoming a regular thing now?” He practically smirked as my eyebrows raised. “I don’t know is it?” I straight up asked.

“Well… seems like it.” He muttered as he pulled his underwear back up, my eyes averting from his still evidently hard bulge. The white briefs didn’t do much to conceal anything, let alone something that bi- “shouldn’t we be more… careful?” “what d’ya mean?” He dumbly asked as I snatched my underwear back off the floor, pulling them back up. “I mean… you know, careful. If somebody finds out we’re both done for.” Ron watched me speaking with an unreadable expression. “You’re my commanding officer, I mean.” I mumbled out, shrugging with an awkward kinda chuckle leaving my lips.

Ron cleared his throat and moved around to retrieve his uniform that was discarded on the patient bed. “Yeah, suppose so.” Suppose so? How was he acting so nonchalant about this? His laid back attitude confused me, I’d expected him to be slightly more uptight, concerned, or maybe that was just me deflecting my emotions on him. “We should, I mean.” Ron corrected as I nodded, nudging down my dress to flatten any creases. Once dressed, Ron inhaled sharply like he was about to announce something important, but it fell flat. “Hm?” I frowned, not knowing how to fill the awkward silence. “I’ll see you… on patrol, tomorrow.” He too seemed a little awkward. After the intensity of our love making, our mundane conversations felt weird and unfitting. “Oh, I’m not going. I’m in the hospital tomorrow morning, so… I won’t be there…”

“Really? Forget what I said then.” He shook his head, fastening the last of his buttons on his uniform. He looked so handsome stood there, all tall and brooding, if it wasn’t so goddamn awkward then I would’ve been overjoyed. “I’ll see you later then, sir.” I smiled softly, fixing all the crumpled papers on my desk which we had messed up previously. “See you.” With one last nod of a goodbye, he’d left the room. A good 10 seconds later I’d noticed he’d left his god damn tie. Fuck. I contemplated running up after him, but then I didn’t want to seem desperate if I did so. Maybe he’d come back for it? Or maybe not, it had been too long of me sat there contemplating for him to have remembered. I was overthinking to the next level, so I simply left the tie there on my desk, gathered all my papers and left the office which I probably could never look at the same again. I was in trouble, big trouble- with myself.

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Here is the link to the chapter before: https://www.tumblr.com/bellewintersroe/714888831358451712/ron-speirs-x-fem-reader?source=share