#you just couldn't kill him in the end could you honey

[mysticwolfshadows]

Taken - Zutara - Part 65

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The morning of the invasion, they find Aang's tent empty. Momo and his glider are gone. No one had seen him since he flew off to meditate the night before.

What's worse, they had no time to look before an artificial fog rolled in and the invasion force arrived.

There were a dozen Southern sailing ships, half a dozen of the Norths dual haul platforms, and about two dozen reinforced Earth Kingdom ferries. In addition, Zuko's old ship was flanked by two Fire Nation cruisers, and five of Sokka's 'submarine' inventions.

The gathered forces were massive, gathering and filling the beach. There were people from all over, making a sea of blues and greens and reds. And in that sea, three men emerged. Katara's father, General How, and Zuko's uncle.

"Katara," her father said, wide eyed and anxious. He hadn't seen her since the night he left.

"Not now," she said, glancing past them to the gathered forces. "We need a word."

Murmers and whispers rose up amongst the gathered forces. They didn't have time to focus on that, instead pulling the men equivalent to the three main generals where they could talk privately.

"Aang is missing," Sokka said, once Toph was sure they wouldn't be overheard. "We found out this morning."

"What?!" General How growled. "The Avatar, the head of this entire operation, is just... gone?"

"Twinkle Toes wasn't really the head of anything," Toph scoffed. "Snoozles, Sparky, Honey, and Sweetness were the people actually making plans."

The three adults blinked, like she was speaking an ancient language. Katara couldn't blame them.

"It's to late to back out now, and the invasion can still work," Katara said, turning to Iroh. "We just need someone to take Aang's place."

Zuko took a deep breath, before speaking. "Uncle, will you take the Avatar's place? When the eclipse ends, you're the only other person that could defeat him."

"No," Iroh said, making everyone gape at him. He shook his head, calm as could be. "While I am flattered, I am not as in my prime as I once was. I do not know if I could defeat Ozai, as I could decades ago. And even if I could, the world would only see it as more senseless violence, a brother killing a brother, in a bid for power." Pausing, he looked around at them all. "We must push forward. The Avatar will be where he is needed, when the time is right. We must trust in that."

General How looked dubious, but her father nodded.

"It's to late to back out now," her father said, reaching out to place a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "And, if the Avatar doesn't return... I know that you will do what needs to be done. You're a good man. Strong warrior. The Southern Tribe will always fight alongside you."

Zuko swallowed, giving the man a bow. "You honor me, Chief Hakoda."

"No, Prince Zuko. The honor is mine." Turning, her father eyed the all. "So... Ready to present the invasion plans?"

Sokka swallowed, but nodded. They were heading back, Sokka with an arm full of maps and notes, Zuko right beside him. But as Katara turned to follow, her father grabbed her shoulder.

"Katara, can we talk a moment?"

She thought about saying no. About pushing past to join the others. But this was the first time she had seen her father in almost two years.

"What is it, dad?"

He smiled, looking her over. "After everything you've been through, I thought I would be worried about you returning to the Fire Nation, but I know that Sokka and Zuko would take care of you. I'm glad you're here. That you're going to be fighting alongside us. And before we left, I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you."

Feeling a smile tugging at her own lips, Katara reached out, wrapping her arms around her father. "Thank you."

He squeezed, holding her close. "And Iroh told me about how much closer you and Zuko have gotten. And if he hurts you, I don't care if he's the Fire Lord, he's a member of the tribe and he'll be punished like one."

"Dad!" She pulled back, slapping her father's shoulder, only to get a chuckle in return.

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[cinnamonanddean]

I...don't feel like Zod would kiss Lana. Shouldn't he be disgusted by humans?

[chatsukimi]

ᴄᴏᴜʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ

featuring: protective!heian!sukuna, kindhearted!servant!reader. slight angst/hurt -> comfort. synopsis: you're sick. to your surprise, you're rescued by the man second closest to death himself. masterlist

you should've known he wouldn't come. sukuna has never set foot in the servant's headquarters in his life, let alone to chase after a sick servant. you lower your head, trying to ease the headache that has plagued you through the day.

sukuna loves his bloodshed and his gore. him and death would be good friends, you think to yourself. he wouldn't care if your body was burnt or buried, you think to yourself; wouldn't care if you died at all.

the room the others put you in is empty. ash spreads neatly over the cold floor. the scent of kibble haunts the atmosphere. it's where they put the dogs before sukuna killed them.

ever since you took care of the king of curses while he was sick, the other servants had been careful in keeping a distance from you. not in ill of heart; they're simply terrified at what you must've done to survive in your week long stay with the monster. honestly, you don't blame them.

but now when you're laying on the freezing ground, struggling to breathe, it's hard not to.

'this is where you live?'

your eyes look up. shock. then, with all the strength you can muster, you heave yourself one step away from the man at the doorway, which only serves to piss him off more.

sukuna ryomen, in all his glory, looks down at you. bending down to pick you up like a limp doll to be seated against the wall, he seems to revel in his regained strength. you can't help but feel happy for him, to have survived this fatal disease. not many men can attest to that...

then again, he is no ordinary man.

'i asked you a question.'

you nod, a small thing, barely a movement. he seems to clench his teeth.

he takes off his long white coat, flaunting a layer of dried blood, and drapes it over your shoulders.

yet it doesn't end there. he retrieves from his pocket a bottle of what looks to be a golden syrup.

you know exactly what it is.

he takes your hand and wraps it around the flask, making you hold it, sparing, not one, but two of his eyes, to stare at you, making sure you do as he commands.

'swallow.'

you shake your head. you know he's asking you to do. this is a medication is so rare for your disease that no sorcerer has found in over a hundred years. he's brought this thing of myth right to your very lips. now he's asking you to drink it, and thus take away any chance of it saving anyone else's life.

you scowl, but the tickling sensation in your throat grows stronger, eventually erupting out of your mouth in a harsh cough. you look away from sukuna.

'leave,' you whisper, weakly. 'don't wanna infect you.'

'i survived the illness already. i've developed an immunity.'

you shake your head again. you couldn't threaten your king's health with your own weakness. you just couldn't.

'i can't take this.'

he growls. without any notice, he swallows your lips in a kiss. in the momentary haze, you could hardly resist, fisting the front of his kimono to ground yourself. then, you feel something sweet, honey-ish, hit your tongue.

with his hand locked on your chin, it forces you to swallow.

you pull back, pushing him away. he groans.

he wipes his mouth, still with two eyes staring.

no... no, why did he do that?

'y-you- how? no... why did you waste it on me?' you whisper, desperately searching his face for an answer. 'i'm just a servant. you could've given it to a princess, or a scholar, or priest-'

he grabs you by the arm and forces you into his arms. its heat astounds you, and you find yourself crawling closer. a vague thumping sound seems to press against your ear-

oh. you calm your breathing.

it's his heartbeat.

alive.

'sleep in my room tonight,' he demands.

what did he say? you strain your mind, trying to replay what he said earlier. no... maybe you heard correctly.

'but i'm no concubine,' you respond, instantly.

his arm supports your waist, helping you up effortlessly to your feet. he then directs two of his eyes to the doorway, his cadence low and domineering.

'it doesn't matter.'

he leads you placidly through the servant's quarters. you notice all conversation cease at your entry, bodies dropping into a low bow. a small voice in you whispers that it's where you should be too. you tug at sukuna's arm.

'i'm only a servant, sukuna.'

you know what it looks like, a servant clutching onto a man, more god than human. a man who has slaughtered villages, blood staining the base of his kimono crimson, and turned half a province on its head, just to save you.

'whatever you are in my eyes is what you are to the world,' he states, his expression unchanging. 'if i deem you a queen, that is who you are.'

exiting the servant compound, you know you can't say no- not like you wanted to. the wide expanse of his chest is comforting.

yet however sweet this feeling remains, you can't help but gulp. perhaps this is the closest a human has ever come to courting death.

[syllikins]

"𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐑?"

❀ genre: fluff

❀ pairing: sylus x reader

❀ contains: mutual pining, sylus down bad, yucky vulnerable feelings (jk i love him so much for this reason), reader in denial (sorry guys), poorly proofread

❀ word count: 1.03k

❀ authors note: i'm taking a crack at this. but omg that scene where he tells mc there is no love purer than his after he asks if she finally realizes how he feels about her? COME ON. HOW CAN I NOT LOVE HIM?? had to write something inspired by that dialogue because it was so????? i'm definitely going to reference to some other stuff he has said in the game that made my heart flutter because?????

"there is no love purer than mine."

is a statement that has been replaying in your mind over and over again since that day.

you couldn't help but wonder if sylus lacks self awareness because how can you actually pinpoint his feelings when every conversation the two of you engage in seems like a ploy for his own entertainment.

every pointless banter. every teasing remark. every sickeningly corny nickname that unfortunately sounds like honey whenever it left his lips. maybe you ignored his childish attempts at flirting because you were too busy ignoring the ticklish feeling it gave you in your heart down to your toes.

sylus may make your eye twitch or send a small twinge in your brain with every smartass comment he feels he has to belch out: but maybe that's part of his charm. he mainly gets away with it with a face like that.

but your developing feelings for sylus was far more emotional than it was physical.

maybe it was the way he was always ready to lock in when it really came down to it.

the two of you being around each other always ended up with you or him being hurt. sometimes both. and if not either of you, chaos ensued. maybe a building was blown up instead. it was fun but it was times like those when you learned about sylus in a slightly more intimate way. it took a few deep gashes and heavy panting, near death experiences and stitches. but he needed your help. you liked that he could at least admit that. he saw you reliable enough to call on you when he was most vulnerable. and he helped you in the same way, despite protest.

he likes to hold hands. but it's not just his fingers intertwined but more like your hearts tangle more than your fingers. it was nice...he may mean it to be authoritative but there is always an underlying sense of comfort in his fingertips.

maybe he was a vampire. as you had previously joked. silver hair. red eyes. that inexplicably gorgeous face. pale skin that would automatically show any trace of lip gloss or lipstick that he would have obtained by getting a bit too close while attempting to tease you. that allure that often times makes your head go numb before you're brought back to reality by another witty comment.

you were more than enthralled by him; you realised as you laid in bed a few nights ago.

now he just makes you nervous. why would he say that?

there is no love purer than his?

and it's all for you?

it all feels like too much.

he calls and you stare at the caller ID before choosing to nervously accept the call. not before you start a petty argument.

but even among his arrogance, and the chirp in his voice when he engages with you, he's still sickening sweet. slipping in how strongly he feels about you in between every other colourful retort of yours or so. gosh. could he not?

after you pathetically stutter through a smartass comment of yours, his amused chuckle has you fighting the urge to chuck your phone. so you just hang up instead. maybe you just need to go outside. that should calm you down.

the warm yet slightly humid summer night air hugs itself against your slightly trembling form, a small fire lit in your heart as you walk down the empty sidewalk in pyjamas.

no one is around. all the stores are closed. it's just you and the street lights as you murmur about all the things you don't like about him in an attempt to kill the light in your heart, this light giving you an odd sense of pleasure. to no avail, your rambling on seems to make the light grow. and a small buzz on your leg.

in your pocket.

he's calling again.

you stare at it this time. its like you think the loving feelings pouring from your pores will tap the accept button for you. this doesn't last long before you shake your head and put the phone back in your pocket. you continue walking, eyes kept on the sidewalk as you weigh the pro's and con's of accepting such feelings.

*thud* you've hit your head on something.

the familiar scent in your nostril already tells you what- more like who it is.

it's obvious he used his evol to just appear in front of you. or else you would have seen his shadow underneath the streetlight you're under before your forehead met his chest.

the mere thought of it being him before even seeing his face is enough to get your stomach to flip, so you flip yourself in the other direction. then he wraps his hand around your wrist but he never seems to forget to add the electrifying part.

your free hand twitches as he intertwined his beautiful fingers with yours, the linking of both your pointer fingers keeping you together.

the silence among the song of cicadas makes you bite your tongue, anticipating a smart, playful retort. and yet amidst your baited breath nothing.

your heart beats in your ears as his warmth lingers on your fingertips. the two linked fingers generating the most heat.

"gosh, would you stop tormenting me already?" you whisper.

"is that what you think this is?" his voice echoing in the street.

you're both silent for a moment. yet neither of you make a motion to separate the linked fingers.

"your love...in it's purest form..."

another silence.

"it belongs to you." he finishes

you turn to him, still staring at the pavement.

"my love....." you began.

he seems to be holding his breath as you fidget in front of him. you attempt to make your slippers overlap or something to that effect as your palms get sweaty.

"is just as pure as yours." you breathe out in something like a scoff.

even now you're trying to challenge him

"and i want you to have it."

 when you utter that last bit, you look him straight in the eyes.

he exhales and accepts it with no hesitation.

in his arms, where both your hearts tangle.

© syllikins 2024

[babeyun]

falling alone ✩ l.hs [teaser]

✩ series m.list

✩ synopsis: cold cases were heeseung’s specialty, and he cracked every single one. cold hearts were your specialty, and you have yet to make a single chip in your husband’s.

✩ genre: established relationship au | hurt-comfort

✩ pairing: lieutenant!lhs x housewife!reader

✩ word count: 2k | [full fic: tbd]

✩ rating: 18+. minors dni.

✩ warnings: mentions of disappearances. some slightly suggestive themes between husband!hee & wife!reader (nothing explicit), uhhh that's it for now i think!

friday, 9:23pm.

"late night?"

your voice has always been a comfort to him.

the way you cooked dinner every night, the way you washed his hair for him, the way you laid in bed with him – it was all comforting. your soft eyes, eyes that had never seen an inch of a crime scene. your gentle hands, hands that would never cock a gun and aim to kill.

you were home to him, and he hated that he couldn't leave his work at the precinct. he always brought it with him, anywhere he went...anywhere you were.

"not really. caught a session with dr. bahng. i'm sorry about dinner." he loosens his tie, trying to ignore the way your eyes follow his fingers. he takes his wedding ring off for work – insisting it snags on the gloves when gathering evidence, that he never wanted to sully it with such grime. "how was your night?"

your sigh may be inward, but his eyes catch everything. every frustrated twitch of your brows, the way your nose crinkles at the half-assed apology. your eyes linger on the linoleum floor, and he fights the urge to pull you into his arms. he fights the urge to show any weakness to your feelings, because he can't let go of work. he has to be strong, he has to be coarse, he has to be cold.

"it was...fine." you wave him off, moving to take the full plates off the table. only then does heeseung notice that you're still in your jeans, your white top neatly tucked into them. your feet are clad in fresh socks, almost as if you were about to go out when he arrived. his eyes scan you as you move around, pulling his tie completely off and bunching it into his pocket. "are you going out with your friends?"

you don't reply as you scrape the cold food into the trash can, and he focuses on the sound of your bracelet lightly clinking with the handle of the fork. your shoulders sag, soft curls of your hair sweeping over your face as you move to place the dishes in the sink. he sighs, before his legs move him behind you. "why are you upset, honey?" "i'm not, i'm not upset." you scoff, turning the tap to hot when you feel heeseung's hands ghost over your waist. you knew better than to attempt to hide anything from him, especially with the way his brain was literally trained to analyze your every movement. his lips press softly to your cheek as his fingers untuck your top, "i know you better than that."

you're silent as his fingertips trace the soft skin of your stomach, his chin resting on your shoulder. he's going to wait until you decide you want to talk, despite knowing it will be the same argument you have every single week.

the same argument that always ends up unresolved as you kiss in your bed, sheets tangled between your bodies. it's enough to hold off on actually talking about it, it's enough to semi-satisfy the lack of attention you got from him during the week. it wasn't enough to feed his unvoiced, almost insatiable hunger for you, and how he wished he could just douse you in his love and affection until the sun rose. it wasn't nearly enough, because he'd still have to pry himself from the comfort of your warm embrace to step foot in the precinct and inhale the stench of evil in the world.

he felt awful, really. that he could never truly show you how much he loved you, how emotionally constipated his job made him...how his sessions with dr. bahng were no longer of much help. "leave work at work, lieutenant. you have the love of your life waiting for you at home." he had it memorized at this point.

"it's always the same thing, don't worry about it." you turn the tap off, feeling the guilt about wasting water seeping into your stomach. you weren't going to wash the dishes, you knew you weren't. you just wanted to lay down in bed with your husband, basking in the few minutes of attention he'd be able to give you before falling asleep. "baby."

you wince at the pet name, one so foreign on his lips. one you so rarely heard, long lost in your college memories. you grimace as you turn in his hold, his hands now resting on your hips. "don't baby me, heeseung."

"don't heeseung me, y/n. i know something is bothering you, and whether it's tonight, tomorrow, or next week – i'm not letting you go to bed like this." he looks at you through tousled locks, his eyes speaking for him. just talk to me.

you shake your head in subtle disbelief, attempting to push past him when he pins you against the counter gently. "let me go, heeseung."

"not until you tell me what's going on." his voice is harsh, one he also rarely uses with you. heeseung was always gentle, soft-spoken. "i've been at work all day, dealing with shit i can barely stomach. i just want to come home and spend time with you. what's wrong?" he's starting to whine, and it does nothing but make your heart ache and your eyes sting with tears.

"i just want to spend time with you, without having to beg for it." you breathe out, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid his gaze. "you remember everything, hee. i know you had to remember that tonight is date night." sighing, you peel your eyes open to a guilty husband watching you with his own tired ones.

"i'm sorry, honey. it really did slip my mind. let me...let me take a shower and we can go have a night on the town, okay?" he starts to walk away, fingers pulling at the buttons of his shirt when you clear your throat. "it's fine, heeseung. let's just go to bed." "no, let me fix this. we haven't had dinner, and we haven't spent time together in weeks." he slips his dress shirt off as he leaves your line of vision, and you just slump against the counter. he was right, and you hated that you knew he was. heeseung was always this way, though, shouldn't you be used to it by now?

yes, he was gentle and soft-spoken, with a touch of dirty humor and thoughtfulness that always made your heart race a little faster. your relationship was built on a lot of comfort and deep talks, ones that usually involved you unraveling yourself entirely just to get a taste of his own secrets. the two of you had met in college, about three days after the disappearance of his childhood best friend, cha soyoung.

heeseung was even more cold and stoic then, and wasn't interested in so much as even befriending you. he didn't really speak, which according to hs friends, was unnatural. they wound up being close friends of yours as well, thanks to park sunghoon. the seven of them also ended up working at the same precinct.

"heeseung talks...a lot. not as much as jay, but he's just going through a hard time right now." sunghoon had said as he sipped his drink, carefully chewing the tapioca pearls as the two of you walked. "it's not everyday your best friend of twenty years goes missing, you know?" you had shrugged, not really understanding what it was like. your parents had moved you around a lot as a kid, and it was hard to make friends until they finally settled when you got into your last year of high school. you had met sunghoon there, but only met the rest of your friends through him that following summer – except heeseung. he'd gone home with soyoung for the summer, returning to seoul for the fall semester at decelis university with her and your other friends. you still never spoke, until now.

you and sunghoon were swinging by his dorm to help pass out flyers.

"hey, hoon. y/n." heeseung spoke quietly as he opened the door, his eyes nearly swollen shut from crying for the past three days. your jaw dropped as you looked at his face, not at all recognizing the boy in front of you. sure, you'd only ever seen picures of heeseung but you knew enough to know that this...wasn't him. neither you nor sunghoon spoke as heeseung moved for the two of you to follow him, shutting the door behind you.

"how are you feeling?" sunghoon asked as he trashed his drink, your own now sweating on a coaster on heeseung's coffee table as the man gathered things around his dorm. you stood awkwardly as you swung your backpack onto the couch, opening it for heeseung to slide the flyers in when you saw him shake his head. "i don't feel much, actually."

sunghoon glanced at you, but your legs moved before you could think. you rounded the table to heeseung, who looked at your extended arms and empathetic eyes with cold ones. he'd set down the papers in his hands, fingers splayed across them momentarily before turning back ot you, awkwardly entering your embrace. your fingers easily found the nape of his neck, and his rigid form quickly softened as he breathed shakily into your shoulder.

"m'sorry." he mumbled as you felt a few tears soak through your shirt, and you just shook your head.

sunghoon also wound up wrapping his arms around the two of you. something about the way that heeseung's fingers clawed at your sides, and the way that he sobbed into your shoulder made you wonder how long he'd needed someone. someone to ease the knot in his stomach, someone to help him see that this was something that would be solved and everything would be okay again. someone to help him hop along until soyoung was found, and someone to leave when she inevitably took her place again.

that was six years ago.

you and heeseung began dating a year after that happened, a couple of months after the anniversary of soyoung's disappearance. the police stopped looking, ruling her case as a runaway. you and heeseung never stopped searching – you frequently asked cafe owners if you could pin missing posters on their corkboards, and even went door to door every few evenings asking if anyone had seen soyoung.

heeseung had made it to the side of the law, and often reviewed the case to see if he had missed anything. he never had – you had all hit a dead end. everyone's hope began to dwindle, but heeseung never let that sway him. he even asked the forensics department to make age-progression posters, and they did. you'd pinned those up, too.

he was strong willed, he was diligent, he was determined. you love heeseung, you love the person he is...

...but you hate that he can't leave his work at work. you hate that you get a crumb of his affection every few nights, whether it's his lips pressed against your cheek after dinner or his teeth nipping at your clavicle while hovering above you in bed. you hate that you find yourself longing for him even more than you did in college, despite now having him in the deepest way – as your husband, the person who loves you.

the man who shed a singular tear as he watched you walk down the aisle, the man who supported you when your career wasn't what you expected. the man who endlessly told you he loved you in ways that weren't so evident to the naked eye – like leaving the warm water for you and showering in the ice cold, leaving the last slice of cake for you. rubbing your feet while watching law and order with you on days he didn't work (read: on days you pried him out of the home office.)

heeseung loves you, you know that. you just can't shake the feeling that it won't be for much longer.

BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

taglist [those in red could not be tagged!]: @thesassy-mia @starfallia @ramenoil @hoonieversies @wintabite @shnnzsworld @eneiyri @jjongsha @ilovejungwonandhaechan @oopshee @capri-cuntz @thenastone @marimariiiiiiii

[rosenclaws]

Hi again! 👋

I'm throwing another request at ya since you did such an awesome job with the last fic idea I requested. (Thank you again for that)

This time with the OG Logan and all his kitty cat hair glory lol.

The reader has similar powers to scarlet witch. Like telekinetic powers, levitation, etc. Can it be a scenario where she loses connection (like how wanda feels connected to vision) with Logan and thinks that he's dead and she just snaps. The villians who claims they killed him mock her and she pulls the move like wanda did in Endgame where she's like you took everything from me, and the villians don't know who she is and she's like you will and just goes full beast mode on the villians involved.

Bonus, Logans alive, he just was knocked out real bad and sees the whole fight happen and was like wow I love her and they reunite and it ends all fluffy with a kiss, maybe a proposal? Lol 😘

Heartbeat || Logan Howlett x Reader

a/n: This was such a great request and I have to say I really loved writing this. I did. go a little angstier than I thought I would and its darker than I expected it to turn out but I really hope you like it. Your mutant name is firefly. Also. I still haven't seen the movies so I apologize if its not accurate to how the X-Men work or anything im sorry sdakfjl;

warnings: fake out death, violence, blood, killing, angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending, the reader goes on a rampage, he calls you honey, reader almost dies, creepy ass villian guy.

wc: 2.3k

"You alright there honey?" Logan's hand gently rests on your shoulder.

You're staring blankly out the jet window, watching the clouds pass by as you ready yourself for what is pretty much a suicide mission. A whole organization that had been hiding underground, dedicated to eradicating mutants.

They've studied you. Planned. They know things, your strengths, your weaknesses. A few people had infiltrated their base and what they found...It made you shiver. Photos and articles and deeply personal information.

They had photos of you and Logan.

It made you paranoid sometimes. Like they were always watching. So you had to put a stop to it as soon as possible. You didn't go on missions often. Your powers were, quite destructive. Powerful yes but not always needed but the X-Men needed everyone they could. You take a deep breath and try to smile convincingly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Logan snorts and cocks an eyebrow.

"You're lying right through those pretty teeth." There's an air of fear in the jet. You all know what might happen if you don't succeed.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. Promise."

"Yeah they're no match for the Wolverine and Firefly." Scott teases making Logan roll his eyes. Scott just loved messing with Logan, taking any jab he can to lighten the mood.

"Can it bub." He turns his attention back to you, happy to see a small smile on your face. Logan takes your hand and places it on his chest. Your hands glow as you reach deep and feel his heartbeat.

"See?" You take a deep breath as you listen.

Sometimes you got too much into your own head. Your powers were tricky and when you got overwhelmed Logan always knew how to calm you down. The world around you fades as you focus on the beat of his heart. The rise and fall of his chest. He was your rock. The jet jolts and Logan holds onto you as you stumble.

"Think I got time for a quick smoke before we head out?"

"No you do not." Storm walks up to the two of you, she shoos Logan away who reluctantly leaves.

"We're landing in 10 minutes, are you ready Firefly?" You take a deep breath and nod.

You stare at your hands as you little particles of orange start to sprout from your fingers. You had control of your powers most of the time but they were still a work in progress but you knew that this mission was important so you couldn't afford to lose control.

Once the jet lands Scott and Storm tell everyone the plan again. This was for the future of mutant kind and there was a lot at stake. Each of you had a small usb drive that would corrupt and destroy any files still left in their system. Infiltrate and destroy all of their plans.

"Do you feel like pancakes?" Logan asks as you step out of the jet.

"What?" He shrugs and stands a little taller.

"There's this diner, open all night. Thought that after you'd want to get something to eat." You know what he's doing. Trying to make you feel better, to believe that you'll make it out alive. You can't die if you have a plans.

"Sure Logan, pancakes sounds great."

"Then it's a date." Logan heads in the opposite direction of you.

He's part of the brute force while you slip into the shadows. Still it pains you to be away from him. A storm rumbles in the distance and you hurry off to your position, afraid of what was to come. Still you keep going.

This was going to end tonight.

"Shit!" You hiss as a bullet wizzes past you.

Things had went to shit pretty quickly and it's an all out brawl now. With a wave of your hands soldiers go flying to who knows where. You sneak behind one and infiltrate his mind. Using his fears to show you exactly where the main computer was being held. He falls to the ground and you step over him as you sneak inside.

It was getting bad, you could feel it. Feel the tiredness and pain your friends were feeling. The guards fall one by one as you make it to the center console room. Exhaustion was creeping up on you. Your powers exerting every bit of strength you had. Still you knew what had to be done.

You plugged in the usb drive and watched as the system crashes, deleting every single bit of information they could have on the X-Men. Then you slowly envelop the console with your powers, crushing it until there's nothing left. You press your finger to your ear, alerting the team you had wiped their main computer in the comms. There's nothing but static on the other end.

"Guys?" You feel your heart start to race as you run out of the building.

"Hello? Anyone? Storm, Jean, Logan?" Still nothing.

Suddenly you feel this horrible, horrible pit in your chest. You stop in your tracks. Blood running cold as terrible feeling washes over you. Logan. You can't explain it, but somethings wrong.

"Logan!" You plead into your comms for him to respond.

You burst through the doors and back onto the field. Your breath hitching as you see the destruction in front of you. For any normal villain's they would have been nothing in the way of you guys, but these people knew exactly who you were. Exactly how to stop each and every one of you.

It was a losing battle.

Your eyes dart around as you send blast after blast, trying to help but with every move of your hands you feel weaker. Suddenly you hear a loud yell, you turn around to see Logan driving his claws deep into the chest of someone. You feel relieved seeing him still standing.

"Logan!" You call out to him and he looks your way. There's blood splattered all over his face and he looks worried. He runs towards you as fast as he could go.

"Get down!" He roars.

BANG

It all happens so slowly.

You look to your side to see a man with a gun aimed right at you. The exhaustion plagues your brain as you react too late. You see Logan running at you. A desperate look in his face as he jumps at you. You hit the ground and so does Logan. He rolls away and lays still. To your horror there's a bullet right in his forehead.

"Logan!" You screech.

You scramble to his side. He's not getting up. Why is he not getting up? He heals. He should be fine. His healing factor should have kicked in so why isn't he getting up. You reach out to him but someone grabs your leg before you can. Your hands dig into the ground as you're yanked back. Dragged to the center of the field.

"Get the fuck off me!" You kick your feet and scream loudly.

Your hands glow but you're face is shoved to the ground, a foot on your neck slowly stopping the air from entering your lungs. You can feel your strength draining. You try and use your powers but you can't.

"He's dead sweetheart. Think we don't know about that neat little regeneration of his?" The man above you laughs and you start to feel sick.

"We're not fucking stupid." He takes his foot off your neck and you gasp for air. He reaches down and grabs you by the neck, forcing you to turn and look at Logan.

"Where's that healing of his now?" Logan remains unmoving, you try and reach out to him. Using any bit of your power to search for him but nothing. You can't feel anything. Tears start to fall as you let out an anguished cry.

"I thought you were supposed to be strong? We heard so much about you and now look at you." He lets go of your neck and you crawl to your knees. Clutching your chest as sobs wrack your body.

"Don't worry though," You hear a gun cock behind you.

"It'll be over soon. Go ahead and say hi to your little boyfriend for us."

You look up at him and feel nothing but an overwhelming amount of pure rage. How fucking dare they. They threatened your life, your friends, your world. They took your peace. They took Logan. The love of your life, he died saving you. Your hands glow bright orange, your chest heaving as you glare at the man standing in front of you.

"Oh look at that, looks like you can do something." He sneers. You chuckle darkly. Tilting your head to the side you smile. Your eyes start to glow as you become strangely calm.

"You took everything from me...So I'm going to take it all from you." You scream as a large wave of energy bursts from your body.

A wave knocking back everyone in your radius including your team. The line of friend and foe blur as you go on a rampage. Disposing of anyone who came after you with ease.

"Firefly!" Storm calls out to you, you were becoming uncontrollable. No one can even get near you. Jean tries to get into your head but you block her out.

No one can get to you now.

They took him from you and you were going to make him pay. You stalk to the ones that were foolish enough to stay. Though they were crawling away now, pleading for mercy. It almost makes you laugh. They were showing no mercy when they planned to eradicate you and your friends. Why would you show them any now?

"That's enough!" Scott fires a beam to stop you in your tracks.

"They're surrendering." He reaches out to you but you push him away.

"I don't care." You snarl. You raise your hand and lift the stragglers up in the air. You're about to slam them to the ground but someone grabs onto your wrist.

"Stop!" The grip is tight as they spin you around. The glow in your eyes fade as you take in who stands in front of you.

"Logan?" You whisper. You try and shake your hand free but he doesn't budge.

"Let them go, honey." He says gently.

"They tried to kill you." You feel the fire come back but Logan does everything he can to calm it.

"But they didn't. They can't hurt us anymore." Still you don't move. He loosens the grip on your hand, taking your other hand and placing it on his chest.

"I'm alive, just feel." Slowly you lower your hand, softly letting the men fall as the rest of the team deal with them as you collapse into Logan's arms.

"I thought you were dead!” You cried. You rest your head against his chest, hand still gripping his suit.

“You weren’t moving and I, I couldn’t feel you.” He cradles the back of your head and holds you tight.

“I’m so sorry I scared you honey, I’m alive. Just knocked out for a little bit.” Logan feels horrible.

Maybe if he had been a little quicker you both would be okay and you wouldn’t have had to deal with any of that. He grabs your face and kisses you with an intensity you've never felt. It's sloppy and desperate but full of life. He's alive. He's telling you that he's alive.

When you pull apart there's still tears streaming down your face. Still so overwhelmed from everything. He lets you cry into his chest as he soothes you. Wiping away the tears as they come.

"I love you so much." He whispers so only you can hear.

The rest of the team watch but don’t say a word. Letting the two of you sit there as long as you need. Soon your tears dry up but you don’t let go of Logan.

It’s a quiet walk to the jet. Everyone is absolutely drained. You lean on Logan's shoulder as he draws shapes on your thigh with his thumb. Your hand rests on his wrist, pressing into his pulse just to make sure he's still breathing.

"Pancakes." You say quietly. Logan looks over in slight confusion.

"Huh?"

"You promised me pancakes," You crack a tired smile.

Logan stares at you for a moment before laughing in disbelief. The weight of what happened finally catching up to him. How close he was to losing it all, how close you were to complete destruction. The toll it's taken on everyone in the jet. The last thing on anyone's mind mind should be doing anything other than sleeping for a week yet pancakes feel like the best fucking idea ever.

"Yeah we can get pancakes honey, as many as you want." He kisses your forehead and places his chin on your head.

"With chocolate chips?" You ask playfully.

"I'll make 'em put in extra. Just for you." You hum happily as you lean in closer to him.

It's still a long flight back and one by one everyone starts to fall asleep. Soon it's just the rumbling of the plane. You look up to see Logan has fallen asleep, you watch his chest rise and fall. Just for a little bit.

He grumbles in his sleep, twitching slightly. There's a scowl on his face as he starts to shift more. Quietly you tap your fingers against his head, taking away his nightmares. He stops moving, relaxing under your touch. You smile softly as you slide your hand down to his chest.

Closing your eyes you feel his heart again. In the back of your mind swirls the horrible memories of today but you choose to ignore them for now. You close your eyes and allow yourself to rest. The steady beat of his heart acting as the perfect lullaby.

Just a steady reminder that everythings okay, there's nothing to fear anymore.

Thump

Thump

Thump

[readychilledwine]

Extramarital Escape pt 2

Rhysand Week Day 7 Free Day

Summary - Being Nyx's nanny came with many perks. You just didn't expect an affair to be one of them.

Warnings - affairs, reader using Azriel with his consent, manipulation, power dynamics, fxmxf, yearning, choking, mental foreplay

A/n - happy day 7 of @officialrhysandweek! I am going to apologize now, I promised smut and while this original did have smut the idea of reader falling into bed with Feyre without Rhysand before the big 3some popped into my mind and there was just *something* about it. I'm weighing it. Be prepared discord friends.

Part 1

✨️Rhysand Week Masterlist✨️Rhys Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️

You were playing a dangerous game and Rhysand, had he not had some semblance of self control, would have killed Azriel for what he walked upstairs to.

Azriel had you against the wall. One of his hands rested on your hip, his other forearm against the wall. His face was far too close to yours. Smirk far too playful as he whispered something that had you blushing and nodding with wide eyes.

You had been avoiding Rhysand. Avoiding Feyre. Only showing up to handle your duties as Nyx's nanny, then leaving for the night in the arms of whichever of Rhysand's brothers arrived to fly you back to the House of Wind. Lately, it has been Azriel. Consistently Azriel.

Rhysand wasn't a controlling male. You could have friends, be free if you so made the choice to be, but avoiding him all together? That's where a line was crossed.

“Don't you two have work to be doing?” You and Azriel jumped apart and the spymaster simply kissed your palm before disappearing. Before you could so much as move, Rhysand had you, arms held behind your back as he walked you into his study and warded it.

The tension between you two was thick. It seemed to have a life of it's own, choking you, straining him. “You have been avoiding me,” his tone had grown soft. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I told you I didn't want to do this anymore-”

“And I told you the expectations of your job,” he stated. “This one was non-negotiable.” He hated the way you set your jaw so firm. The way you glared at him. He hated that you couldn't feel the strained bond. The way he and Feyre ached for you.

This situation was rare in their world. Practically unheard of. He'd searched every book, every legend, hell, he had gone through children's stories. Nothing explained this bond. This rarity he and Feyre had been blessed with.

“You have also been avoiding Feyre,” he moved closer to you, taking in the soft scent that clinged to your skin. “I understand your anger with me, but my mate has done nothing wrong.”

Honey and roses. Soft, feminine. He missed your scent. How it added a layer of complexity to the scent of lilac and sea salt that followed him and Feyre.

You crossed your arms, “How am I supposed to look her unt he eye when her husband has been fucking me behind her back?”

“Fucking you,” Rhysand thought to himself. He would hardly describe what you two did as strictly fucking. He spent hours licking every inch of you. He'd spend days between your legs if you let him, savoring every noise, every kiss, every whimper of his name. He'd been rough with you at times, taking you the way Feyre enjoyed the most, but predominantly, he made love to you. Slow, gentle, talking you through as you fell apart. He felt the way that made your soul glow. He felt the way being held so tenderly made your mind fall silent.

He'd only realized he had yet to respond to you when the door opened, Feyre walking in with several sets of earring in her hands.

It was girls night and you immediately clocked how she looked absolutely exquisite. Her flowy two piece outfit highlighted how perfect she was, the shade of powder blue complimenting her skin tone every way. The top ended just above her belly button, the sweetheart neckline dipping to preview just enough of her chest. The pants were baggy but tight around the ankles with the slit running from ankle to the waistband. “Ah perfect, two of my favorite fae to pick my earrings,” she held both options up to you and Rhysand. “I really like the idea of super simple silver.”

You moved to her, brushing the hair from her neck “How did you plan to wear your hair? Because down means simple studs, up is an excuse to wear those really pretty dangly ones.”

Rhysand watched the two of you so closely, hiding his realization that he and Feyre had made an error in their game plan. You two fit. The subtle flirtation, the touches that lingered for longer than they needed to. They had calculated for you to be easily seduced by him, that'd you'd fall for him.

It should have been a blow to his self-esteem when he watched as you helped her put the diamond studs in, hand lingering in her hair for just a moment. “How truly blessed we are to have such a beautiful High Lady,” you hand lingered in that strand of hair before you walked away, a blushing Feyre standing there in your absence.

“We made a miscalculation, Feyre Darling,” Rhysand purred as he took in his mate, looking her up and down as if she was his next meal. “She wants you.”

Feyre glanced at him before looking away. She was hiding something from him and not succeeding. He only had to give her a look, a brush against her mental shields as he did. “Nesta saw her and Azriel whispering very.. intimately last night in the House of Wind. She couldn't get close enough to hear what it was about, but she heard our names and Azriel telling y/n to calm down and that something was working.”

Rhysand cocked his head before laughing, “The little..” He glared towards the door you'd just left out of. “Leave her to me,” he moved to Feyre, kissing her temple. “I think I've figured out this little game.”

It was the first night in almost a month you were alone with Rhysand and would be throughout the night. You tried to focus on your current task, mindlessly folding Nyx's laundry while you hummed to yourself. Rhysand was silent as he moved behind you, hand coming to rest on your throat, “I wasn't done speaking with you earlier.”

You couldn't stop the way your eyes fluttered shut if you had wanted to, couldn't stop the way your skin broke out in chills as he held you so possessively. “You will tell me what is going on between you and Azriel. Now.”

Your breathing betrayed the even tone of your voice, “We are just close friends.” You emphasized close on purpose, earning a soft squeeze that made you gasp as your mind began to float away.

“You're lying to me, darling? So bold of you to assume you could manage that.”

His breath was by your ear, tickling your skin. You were lying to yourself pretending you didn't yearn for him. For both of them. Azriel was kind to allow you to use him the way he was. To play this game of chess with you. The problem was your version of chess was one children with no experience played. Rhysand, though, Rhysand could play with his eyes closed.

Your very pulse was enough for him to know he was winning. Enough for him to feel the very aching setting in your core. “I saw how you looked at Feyre today,” his low deep voice made you whimper, offering weakness to him like a present. “I saw how you touched her. I can give you that. Give you the ability to experience her the way you want. The way you wish.”

His hand grew a little tighter on your throat allowing that feeling of euphoria setting in as he did.

Rhysand smirked behind you, letting you enjoy the little high he was giving you before walking away leaving you suddenly.

“Rhys,” you began to protest as he ignored you. “You can't just-”

“I can,” the tone was firm and left no room for question. “I only give my affections to the very best of girls, and you, y/n have not been a good girl lately.”

That sentence would haunt you and he knew it. He knew your need to please, to be the picture perfect example of manners and politeness. Your lip trembled at the thought alone, a final sign of his power over you. “I want to be a good girl.”

“Then tomorrow night, you won't go to the House of Wind,” he moved closer again. His hand slowly trailing up your fingers and across your collarbones. “You will come to my bed tomorrow night, with Feyre, and she and I will discuss what to do with you.”

“But you.. I-”

Your stumbling was almost adorable to him, the way your eyes were wide. He grabbed your chin, pulling you into the first kiss he'd had in far too long from you. Your lips were as sweet as he remembered, a soft hint of lemon lingering from the liquor you had picked to sip for the night. “I only give my affections to good girls,” he purred against your lips again. “Are you my good girl?”

“I want to be,” you whispered back, eyes meeting his. “I'm sorry.”

“Your apology means nothing unless you fix what you've done. I've told you how you can make it up to me. To Feyre. I know you'd hate to disappoint your High Lady, wouldn't you?”

He made you nod wanting to cave to his desires and take you. He left you with one more soft kiss, “Be my good girl tomorrow night and I will give you everything you ever wanted.”

He left you then. Truly left you. Feeling alone, anxious, needy. How unfair of him to leave you like this? Longing for him. For her. You thought you could play this game as well as he did. Master the mental chess board with little issue. The idea of prolonging this, of continuing to push him, it appealed to you in the sick twisted sense of needing to know where that line was.

It didn't appeal to you the way being satisfied did. The way his hands touching you did. And his offer? To lay with him and Feyre?

Images flashed through you mind, need building more and more until it felt as though you were suffocated by your own self made frustrations. You took deep breaths, hand resting on your pounding Heart.

Your mind was made.

Tomorrow you'll be a good girl.

The best girl.

All day, you'd torture both of them by being so good they'd struggle the way you currently were, and that was one game you could always win.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f @yeonalie

Extramarital escape taglist

@wickedfelinaxo @sh4nn @justdreamstars @jesssicapaniagua @harrystylesfan2686 @slytherinindisguise @fxckmiup @saltedcoffeescotch @sarawritestories @sinarainbows @justaboredbookworm @xcarrotxs-blog @paleidiot @nayaniasworld @fyfy-world @seasonallyapril @alhaithmss @Ilovelydove @nebarious @helloevilmuffins @fantanbietsson

[ruh--roh-raggy]

This (William Afton x Fem! Reader SMUT)

Hello! Wow, I can honestly say I wasn't expecting that big of a response on my first fic so thank all of you so much!! I've got brain rot real bad about this man, so expect a lot of fics for him. Now, onto the fun part. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! ADULT CONTENT AHEAD, 18+ FIC AHEAD, MDNI, age gap (reader is in college, William is in his 40's/50's), jealous William, hinted that he killed your terrible coworker if you squint, thigh riding, unprotected sex, pnv sex, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, some spanking but it's nothing too intense, size difference (I just love me a big man what can I say?), cock warming, Reader is 5'0/152cm because that's how tall I am, whoops) dom William, slight degradation, definite praise, pining, domestic!William, OOC William, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, use of pet names sweetheart, honey, pretty little thing, bunny (I think that's everything, please let me know if I forgot any tags!)

Word count: 8,058

You can find my Masterlist here!

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You tapped softly on your boss’s half open door. You heard him finish up a phone call, the receiver clicking as he hung up. “Come on in.” He calls cheerfully. You push open the door, his gaze softening as it landed on you.

“Mr. Afton, can I talk to you really quick?” You ask nervously, anxiously tracing over the cold brass doorknob with your finger.

“Of course you can. Shut the door, come on in.” You do as he says, you swallow thickly as the door clicks shut behind you. You sat in one of the stiff pizzaria chairs he had at his desk, the once vibrant clumps of geometric shapes beginning to fade with age. “What can I do for you sweetheart?” He folds his hands in front of him as he shoots you a small smile. You always found yourself growing flustered under his gaze, your eyes darted to the nameplate that sat on his desk, tracing over the neat gold letters as you tried to steady your pounding heart.

“I was just wondering if you could stop scheduling me with Kyle?” You mutter, cursing internally at how stupid your request sounded.

“What happened? He didn't hurt you, did he?” The sudden flash of anger in his voice was unmistakable.

“No, nothing like that. It just feels like he always goes out of his way to give me the worst jobs. A kid throws up in the ball pit, I have to clean it up. A parent gets too drunk and trashes a table, I'm the one on my hands and knees making sure there's no fragments of glass still stuck in the carpet. I know this probably sounds ridiculous, I'm not trying to start problems-”

“(Y/N).” His gentle tone makes you freeze. Your eyes drift up to meet his. He reaches across his desk, holding his hand out for you. You tentatively slip your hand into his, your breath shaky as you watch him trail his thumb over your knuckles. His skin was so warm, you looked so small and delicate compared to him. “I'll deal with Kyle, okay? You're too pretty to be doing those jobs anyways.” You can't help but blush as he winks at you. He stands up, his height allowing him to tower over you as he walks you to the door, his hand on the small of your back. “Have a good night sweetheart, I'll see you tomorrow.” He smiles down at you.

“Goodnight, Mr. Afton.” You smile coyly at him as you turn to leave. He leans against the door way, his arms crossing over his chest as he scans over the pizzeria.

“Kyle!” He barks. “Come see me at the end of your shift bud, we need to have a little chat.” You couldn't keep the smile off your face as you pushed out of the building.

When you came back the next day you expected to see Kyle seething with rage over whatever punishment Mr. Afton had dished out, but he was nowhere to be found. You wandered back towards your boss’ office, wanting to let him know you had arrived to start opening. “There's my favorite girl.” He grins as you poke your head through the doorway. “Come sit, I took care of opening prep, you relax.” He nods in the direction of one of the chairs across from him. He never takes his eyes off of you as you sit rigidly in the seat. “You look tired, would you like some coffee?”

“Oh, you don't have to trouble yourself.” He attempts to wave you off, both of your actions cut short by the sound of your stomach rumbling. “Excuse me.” You look away awkwardly.

“I guess something a little more substantial than coffee is in order here.” He stands, motioning for you to follow him. You trail behind him as he leads you into the kitchen, the smell of the greasy premade pepperoni pizza baking in the oven practically making your mouth water. He grabs the wooden peel, expertly flicking the pizza onto it and retrieving it from the industrial sized oven. “So you haven't eaten and you look exhausted.” You cringed slightly as you waited for him to chastise you, knowing how bad it looked that you weren't showing up to your job with your best foot forward. He sets the pizza on a metal tray, leaving it to cool as his focus directs itself onto you. He takes a few long, agonizingly slow strides towards you. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?” You found yourself immediately growing flustered at the sound of the familiar pet name. Mr. Afton had been using the endearment since you had started, yet hearing it roll so effortlessly off of his tongue never failed to make your cheeks grow warm and arousal to pool between your legs.

“Yeah, it's stupid.” You try to brush your earlier problems of the day away, not wanting to bring attention to what you believed would come off as a childish reason to be upset. Seeing the concerned looks in your boss’ eyes prompted you to continue. “I got into a fight with my roommate today and I ran out of time to eat because we were arguing. I'm sorry-”

“Sweetheart, you don't have to apologize.” A shiver ran down your spine at the sound of his voice. “I'm worried, not upset.” His shoes enter your line of sight, which was currently trained on the floor, as he steps in front of you. A set of warm fingers ghost over the skin of your cheek, pushing back a stray tendril of hair that had fallen out of your messy attempt at tying it back. You slowly meet his hazy green eyes, a patient smile adorning his lips as he waits for his words to settle. You gave him a small nod in response. You walk out onto the main floor of the pizzeria, the eyes of the four life sized animatronics seeming to follow your every move. Although you had grown used to the sight of the vibrantly colored animals, there was something about them that still unnerved you. “Who's your favorite?” You jump slightly when Mr. Afton suddenly speaks up. You breathe out a laugh as you turn to face him.

“Bonnie,” his face lights up at your immediate answer, “I've always liked rabbits.” You join him in the small booth, he eyes you carefully as he serves you a piece of pizza on a napkin. “Thank you for the pizza, Mr. Afton.”

“William.” He corrects with a small smile. “There's no need to be so stiff outside of work hours, doll.”

You can't help but giggle at his playful tone. “Well, thank you for the pizza, William.” He straightens up slightly at the sound of you saying his name. You were honestly a bit surprised to say that you were having a good time. William was charismatic, funny, a little awkward but in a way that came off as endearing. You stood side by side with him in the kitchen, working in tandem to clean up the dishes you made from your impromptu lunch date. You kept finding your eyes drifting over to him, the sight of his sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, his muscular forearms flexing as he twisted a rag inside of a cup. You swallowed thickly, quickly tearing your eyes away from him and back to the metal pizza pan.

“Right behind you, sweetheart.” William groans as he reaches around you to grab a dry rag. Your heart pounded in your chest as he leaned into you. You feel his arm brush against your back and you dared to look over at him considering that you might never get the chance to be so close to him again, your little secret crush on your boss refused to let you miss that opportunity. You let out a small, startled squeak as you found him already looking at you. Everything about him seemed to only drag you in deeper as you got caught up in his gaze. The deep, musky smell of his cologne, his mossy green eyes holding you firmly in place. His arm wraps around your waist, your hands flying to his chest as he pulls you into him, his lips crashing against yours. It took a moment for your mind to catch up with what was happening to your body. Your eyes fluttered shut, the warmth of being pressed tightly to him seeping into you as you let yourself give in to what you truly wanted. Your hands slid over the soft fabric of his shirt, your fingers just barely grazing over his collar to pull him closer when the main door to the pizzeria slammed open and the excited voices of your coworkers filed in. You startled apart, Williams eyes immediately averting to the floor as a look of shame rapidly spreads across his features. He mutters out a hurried apology as he pushes past you, through the kitchen doors, and directly into his office. You saw your friend Ashley jump as the door slammed behind him, eventually seeing you standing alone in the kitchen as your face dropped into your hands. You had no reason to be but you felt embarrassed. Your whole face burned as the moment replayed itself over and over in your head.

“What the hell was all of that?” Ashley exclaims in a hushed tone as she enters the kitchen.

“Nothing!” You turn to the sink, pretending to wash your hands as an excuse to not have to look at her. “Mr. Afton had an important call to take.” She eyes you curiously, knowing you weren't being honest with her. You felt sweat begin to bead at your temple under her scrutinizing gaze.

“Fine, keep your secrets.” She huffs playfully as she crosses her arms over her chest. She quickly closes the gap in between you, “but if you're fucking the boss and you're not telling me I'm going to be so mad.” You knew it was a joke but you were still a bit on edge from the earlier ordeal.

“Keep your voice down!” You snap, quickly looking over at his office door to see that it was, thankfully, still shut. She gasps, your nervous body language giving you away.

“Tell me everything.” She grabs you by the shoulders, forcing your attention back on her. “Is he good? Is he… y'know?” Her eyes flashing down to your crotch and back up. “Is he big?”

“Ashley!” You attempt to shush her again. “I'm not sleeping with Will-Mr. Afton.” You hurried to try and correct yourself, but your little slip up only added more fuel to the fire.

“Were you about to call him William?” She grills you, a wide, excited smile taking over her face. “Do you guys have pet names for each other? I hear him call you sweetheart all the time but I thought that was just because you're his favor-” You clamp a hand over her mouth, it was the only way you could think of to get her quiet.

“Just hang on,” you wait to see if she was actually done talking before pulling your hand away. “I came in early to open. I was supposed to be working with Kyle but he never showed. I think Mr. Afton might have fired him.”

“Did you finally go talk to him about that creep?” She asks as she leans up against the counter. You nod in response, “good, he was making your life a living hell here. Continue…” she prompts with a wave of her hand.

“I walk over to his office just to let him know that I'm here and he tells me that everything's already done-that’s not the important part.” You took a deep breath to steady yourself before telling her what had gotten you so frazzled. “He was helping me clean some dishes and he reached around me for the towel, so what was I supposed to do? Not look?” Ashley chuckles, being the one person who knew about your crush she understood how impossible that would have been for you. “I looked over at him and he was already looking at me and then he kissed me and then you guys came in-”

“Hold on. Pause.” She holds up her hands to get you to halt your recap. “He kissed you?” You nod, but before you had time to continue one of your coworkers kicked open the double doors to the kitchen.

“Alright ladies, I hate to interrupt, but I got some pizza to make.” He groans through his forced smile.

“We’ll talk about this later.” She whispers hurriedly as she ties her apron around her waist. You nod, copying her motions as you prepare to open for the day. Throughout your shift you kept thinking about the kiss. Did it mean something or was it just an impulse? Did William somehow know about your crush on him? You stood at the side of the pizzeria, unable to keep the smile off of your face as you watched him take a picture with an excited child. You found your mind wandering again, the delighted scream, pings, and whirrs of the room around you seemed to almost fade away. You could still feel his arm wrapped around your waist, how strong his broad chest was under the palms of your hands. You snapped yourself from your daydream, the glowing white eyes of the Spring Bonnie suit studying you carefully. You straightened up, hurrying off to the kitchen so you wouldn't be seen slacking. By the end of the night you had just about driven yourself crazy with questions. Questions you were determined to get answers to. You said goodbye to your coworkers, promising Ashley that you would catch her up when you were able to. You walk up to your boss’ door, a determined look etched into your features. You raised your fist, freezing just before knocking. Why was this so hard? He kissed you! If anything you should be furious! He had completely ambushed you out of nowhere and you had spent the whole day walking around in a fog because of it. But, part of you was worried about what his answer might be. It was easy to hide your feelings from him up until now; glances that lasted a little too long, walking a little too close to him so your fingers could brush his, it could all be passed off as if it were nothing. Now, you were standing in front of his door ready to charge in there to demand an explanation for the kiss not because you were upset with him… but because you were hopeful about what the implications of what that kiss could mean. Before you had the chance to decide for yourself what you were going to do the door opened. William froze at the sight of you standing on the other side. He sighs, raking a hand through his already messy hair.

“(Y/N), I'm sorry about earlier, I don't know what came over me.” Your heart cracked slightly at his apology. So, it really was just an impulse. “Can we… Can we talk about this? I think it might be better for both of us to get it all out in the open.” You were struggling to fight against the tears blurring your vision.

“I think I'm just going to go home, Mr. Afton.” You grimaced at the sound of your voice shaking.

“Sweetheart, I can't let you drive like that.” He carefully wipes away a tear that had slipped onto your cheek. Your lip quivered at the sound of his pet name for you, a soft sob breaking free from your chest as you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. William quickly pulls you into his arms, letting you hide against him. “That's it, let it out.” He says as he soothingly rubs your back. Your arms finally slid around his torso, he rocked you back and forth slightly as he waited for you to calm down. You sniffle as you pull back from him, his warm hand cupping your cheek. “You're even pretty when you cry.” He muses. Your cheeks flushed at the compliment. You allow him to wipe away any remaining trails of tears, realizing after avoiding each other all day that you missed being close to him.

“William,” your voice was a hoarse croak as you spoke. You place a hand over the one he has resting on your cheek. “I want to kiss you again… please.” His eyes widened slightly at the request. But, once he let your words sink in, he wasted no time granting your request. You stumbled back slightly as he kissed you passionately. You grab onto his collar, keeping him flush against you as you reveled in the sensation. One of his hands slaps haphazardly against the doorway as he guides the two of you inside, roughly kicking the door shut before slamming your back against it. He takes your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head in one swift movement. You whimpered softly as he pulled away from you, despite your desperate need to breathe you felt like you would die without his lips on yours. You had to look almost straight up in order to meet his eyes, a wild and hungry look dominating his gaze. He breathes out a chuckle at the sight of you, the look you gave him so full of need it nearly brought him to his knees.

“Such a pretty little thing you are, sweetheart.” He slowly swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, the flesh tender and swollen for the one mind numbing kiss he had granted you. “I can't tell you how long I've wanted you.” You whine as you feel his leg push in between your own. You were forced up onto your toes, struggling to contain the soft moan that bubbles up in your throat at the delicious pressure against your clit.

“Enlighten me.” You challenge, earning a deep, rumbling laugh from him.

“Surely, you must've known.” His head dips into the crook of your neck, biting you hard enough that you knew he would leave a mark behind. “I see you everyday; the way those tight little jeans mold to your ass, how your shirt is always pulled down just low enough to tease me…” you see the briefest look of jealousy flash through his eyes. “How those immature, snotty little college boys are constantly throwing themselves at you.” He pushes into you, his lips staying just out of reach as he keeps you pinned in place. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, he smirked as he felt you squirming against his thigh. “What's the matter sweetheart?” He asks sardonically. You were having trouble thinking straight. Every time you let your full weight sink into him it only made you need his touch more, his hot breath fanning over your lips made your whole body ache for him. “I think you know that no one could take care of you like I could, don't you?” You nod in response, your breathing growing noticeably quicker as he questioned you. His forehead comes to rest against yours, his dull green eyes searching your features for any sign of hesitation. “Well then how about I give you a night you'll never forget?” He smiles sharply at you.

In one sweep of his arm his entire desk is cleared off. Paperclips scatter across the floor alongside papers and whatever other trinkets decorated the wood surface. He grabs your hips and pulls you roughly to him, his lips ferociously meeting yours in a kiss that knocked all the air from your lungs. Your initial fight for dominance over the kiss was very short lived. If anything, William found your defiance rather cute. He growls against your lips, a sound that has your knees threatening to buckle. His hands slide from your hips down to your ass, groaning as he gives it a firm squeeze. You squeak as he easily lifts you from the floor, guiding your legs around his waist as he sets you on his desk. He fumbles blindly with the button of your jeans, eventually being able to start working then down your legs. “I can't wait to fucking ruin you.” He presses a hand flat against your chest, pushing you back onto his desk. You struggle not to blush, turning away from him so he hopefully wouldn't notice. Your fingernails dig into wood as he teases at your entrance with his fingers. “Such a cute little bunny.” He smirks. “Already so wet for me and I haven't even touched you yet.” He takes your chin between his fingers, turning you to look at him. “Look at me sweetheart, I wanna see those pretty eyes when I fuck you senseless.” His hand dips under the hem of your shirt, his large, warm hand roaming your bare torso as you lay compliantly before him. He roughly grabs your jaw, watching your expression carefully as he eases his fingers into you at an agonizingly slow pace. A strangled gasp breaks free from your throat as his digits bottom out in you, your gummy walls clenching around them.

He chuckles as you roll your hips, searching desperately for any type of relief. He begins to rock his fingers inside of you in time with your movements, taking his time to fully stretch you out in preparation for what was to come. As he gradually increased his pace the louder your moans became. You gripped tightly onto the arm that had moved from your jaw to the desk next to your head, your nails digging little crescent divots into his skin. “You look so fucking pretty like this.” He looks over you, drinking in the way your body writhed from his touch.

“William.” You whimper his name.

“What is it, bunny?” He coos. “What does my needy girl want, hm?”

“Want… want to touch you.” Your words came out slurred as you fought through your moans and the mind numbing pleasure he was inflicting on you.

He tuts at your demand, giving you a disappointed pout. “Poor thing, you want to touch me?” You nod furiously. He fingers thread into your hair, giving the strands a rough tug to ensure that your eyes are on his. “Ask nicely and maybe I'll let you.”

“Please.” Your wide innocent eyes pricked with tears as you gazed up at him longingly. He hummed, pondering over your pathetic state as he continued to slowly rock his fingers inside of you. “William, please, please let me touch you. I want… I need you.” Your begging came cracking out in a sob, tears sliding down your face as you grew more desperate to get your hands on him. William chuckles at the sight of you.

“Such a needy little thing” He smirks. He lets the request hang in the air for a moment, the only sound filling the room was the squelching of your arousal in his hand as he fingered you. His lips land on your pulse, causing you to shiver. He takes your wrist in his massive hand, guiding it to the top button of his dress shirt, giving you permission to start undressing him. Your fingers shook as you worked at the fastenings, Williams pace never slowing making it difficult for you to focus on the task at hand. Your struggling was going to be well rewarded. Once you had undone the final button on his shirt, William grabbed you roughly by the collar, hauling you to a sitting position so you were now sitting face to face with him. You whined at the sudden emptiness of him removing his fingers, but your annoyance was short lived. You pushed the dress shirt from his shoulders, William making quick work of discarding his undershirt into an empty chair in the room. You just about drooled at the sight of him. His broad shoulders and strong arms from years of working on machines in his shop flexed and shifted under the dim office lighting. You couldn't tear your eyes off of him as he started loosening his belt. You blush as he chuckles, realizing you had been caught staring. “Like something you see, sweetheart?” He asks in an amused tone. He prowls over to you, the buckle of his belt jangling as it hangs limply as his side, his pants falling low on his hips.

You bite your lip, reaching out for him once he’s close enough. You wrap your legs around his waist, fingers threading into his hair as his lips crash into yours. You run a hand over his chest, the thick carpet of coarse hair tickling your palm. In one swift movement your shirt is pushed over your head, your breasts bouncing slightly as they fall back into place after the disruption. William admired the soft lace that complimented your skin. His hands slide over your waist and up your back until he reaches the clasp of your bra. He fumbles with it a few times until the tension of the elastic finally relaxes. He takes his time removing your final article of clothing. The straps are eased off your shoulders one at a time, his beard ticking your bare skin as he places delicate kisses anywhere he could reach. Goosebumps spread across your chest as the fabric is finally fully removed, William’s eyes drifting down to get a full view of your perfect form. He lets out a primal growl at the sight before his lips latch into yours again. His fingers dig into your hips, dragging you to the very edge of his desk in order to line his cock up with your entrance. You moan into his mouth as he sheathes himself full inside you in one hard thrust. Your breath comes out in long, shaky exhales as you struggle to adjust to his size. Even with the prep from his fingers he still stretches you to a point that makes you feel like you're about to rip in half. William was a lot bigger and thicker than any guy you had been with previously. You already felt drunk just from the sensation of him bottoming out in you. “Eyes on me, bunny.” He whispers in a gentle tone. Your eyes flutter open, you hadn't realized you had even shut them to begin with, meeting his hazy green ones. You cry out as he gives you a single sharp thrust, a mixture of pain and pleasure burning white hot through your body as you struggle to take all of him. He lets out a satisfied hum as he studies your fucked out expression. “Already cock drunk, hm?” He chuckles, resting his forehead against yours to keep your attention on him. With every snap of his hips it brought you closer and closer to your climax, your moans impossibly loud in the small, cramped office. “You wanted this all along, didn't you sweetheart? You knew those stupid little boys could never make you feel like this.” He snarls. “Now, here you are, about to cum on my cock.” Drool had started to leak out of the corner of your mouth as you struggled to keep your eyes on his. He dips a hand between your legs, rubbing fast circles on your clit.

“William!” You moan out his name, his free arm wrapping securely around you to hold you tightly against him.

“Such a dirty girl, fucking someone nearly twice your age.” He chuckles cruelly, his eyes darken as they meet yours through your haze. “Pathetic.” Degrading you like that seemed to unleash something primal in him. His thrusts somehow managed to get faster and more brutal. You screamed as your orgasm ripped through you, desperately crying out his name as you clawed against his back. His hands wrap under your thighs, lifting you from the desk slightly in order to get better leverage. “Fuck.” He groans, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he approaches his end. He kisses you hard as he finishes, hot ropes of his cum coating your walls. You both stayed locked in your embrace for a moment, waiting for your breathing to calm down. You wince as he pulls out of you, a slight sting as your absurd cunt attempts to clamp around nothing. He looks around the room for something to clean you up with, deciding on his shirt when nothing else seemed plausible. He gingerly reaches in between your legs, a softness and hesitancy you didn't expect after the evenings most recent events. You let out a soft hiss at the slight bit of pain you felt as he cleaned you up. He soothingly caresses your thigh with his free hands, shooting you an apologetic look from his position situated in between your legs. You studied him for a moment, his gaze distant, and hazy as it trailed to the floor.

“William.” Your soft voice drifted over his ears, bringing his attention back to you. You adjusted your position so you could sit up. “Come here.” He stands, even sitting on his desk he still towered over you. You wrapped your arms around him, resting your chin on his soft stomach. You trail your hands over his back, his skin slightly sticky with sweat.

“I’m sorry if I took things too far-”

“You didn’t.” His gruff voice was cut off with your quiet reassurance. “You were amazing.” You give him a coy smile before pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. A small smile breaks out on his face as he chuckles at your glimmering expression.

“Come on bunny, let’s get you dressed.” He combs his fingers through your hair, “although I will never get tired of looking at your beautiful body.” He winks causing you to blush, you lightly slap his chest. He places a kiss on your forehead before collecting your clothes. You feel eyes on you as you’re getting dressed, you can’t help but smirk when you look over your shoulder so see William staring at your ass. You make a show of stepping into your panties, adjusting them so they are perfectly in place before shimmying into your jeans. William was practically drooling as he watched your supple flesh jiggle as you worked yourself into the tight clothing. You place one final kiss to his burly chest before he slips his undershirt back over his head. He trails a finger over your jaw. “I was hoping we could make this a more than one time thing… Maybe I can take you out to dinner after work some night?” He asks with a charming, lopsided smile.

“I’d really like that William.” You push yourself up on your toes, having him meet you halfway to place a chaste kiss to your lips. “Goodnight.” You whisper with a smile.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He breathes out a laugh as you both slowly pull away. You grab your jacket and bag from the employee locker room, giving William one small wave as you pass by his office on your way out. You fell into your driver seat with a groan, sticking your keys in the ignition, your heart still pounding in your chest. You turned the key expecting your engine to rumble to life, but your car refused to start. You tried again and again, falling against the steering wheel with an aggravated sigh. You kicked open the door and trudged back inside. William gave you a confused look as you walked back up to his door. “Everything alright?”

You grew embarrassed over the fact you had to ask. You never had anyone who was able to teach you about cars, you wouldn’t know the first thing about trying to find the problem yourself. “My car won’t start. I hate to ask, but could you come look at it?”

“Of course, honey. I’ll take care of it.” Your heart flutters in your chest at him taking charge of the situation. You definitely could get used to having him around, there was something about his unwavering confidence that made you long for him even more. You follow him back outside, watching him carefully as he examines your engine, a massive black flashlight held tightly in his hand. “I see the problem.” He groans as he reaches to point something out to you. “You need a new timing belt.” He points out the problem, excitedly going through the mechanics as you listened attentively. “You can leave your car here, I’ll pick you up a new one tomorrow.” He stuffs his hand in his pocket. He twirls his keys around his pointer finger. “Let me just go lock the door and I’ll drive you home.” You nod, growing giddy over the fact you would get to spend more time with him. He wraps his arm around your shoulders as he leads you around back to his car. You slide stiffly into his passenger seat. The inside of his car was pristine, some vintage model muscle car you didn’t know the name of. William’s hand envelops your thigh as he drives, ever so often giving the soft skin a gentle squeeze as you direct him to your off campus apartment. You lived in the not so great part of town, even outside of Hurricane standards. Shootings, stabbings, human trafficking, all of it had happened somewhere in your neighborhood. You noticed William’s expression grow more concerned as you drove. You eventually pulled up in front of your building, a rickety looking triple decker that looked like it would collapse from a slightly too strong gust of wind.

“Well this is me.” You state softly with a slight shrug of your shoulders. William sighed as he stared up at your building.

“You live here by yourself?” He glances at you in the passenger seat as he asks. You nod in response. “Bunny, would you like to come spend the night at my house. It’s dangerous for a girl like you to be by herself out here.”

“Spend the night with you?” You repeat his request back to him, he nods slowly, worried he crossed a line. “If you’re offering, I'm definitely not going to say no.” You lean across the cab of the car, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The drive back to his house was spent mostly in silence, every so often his hand would drift from your thigh to bringing your knuckles to his lips. You left the main part of town, the houses you passed becoming few and far between as the sides of the road were taken over by tall fir trees. You pulled up in front of a cozy looking house, the outside paint faded from years of abuse from the harsh Utah weather.

“Home sweet home.” Me mumbles with a lopsided grin. You trail closely behind him as you walk up to the door, jumping at every snapping twig and animal scurrying through the brush. “There’s nothing to be scared of sweetheart, I’ll keep you safe.” He smiles down at you, keeping you tucked into his side as he unlocks the door. He gently nudges you inside first, following closely behind you. The second the door clicks shut William’s lips are on yours again, a flustered sigh escaping you as you melted into him. “I’m going to get dinner started.” He mumbles against your lips.

“Would you like some help?” He nods, motioning for you to follow him to the kitchen.

“I would love some.” He grins at you. The two of you worked side by side to prepare dinner, every so often you would catch William stealing glances at you out of the corner of your eye. “Honey.” He suddenly speaks up, you turn to face him only for him to pull you into a kiss. “You just sit here and look pretty, I’ll finish this up.” His large hands wrap around your waist, he lifts you from the floor and sets you on the counter with ease. He hums as he works beside you, easily recreating his recipe from memory. Always keeping you on your toes, he was making homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese. He takes quick pauses, caging you in between his arms on the counter as he gives you rushed kisses that leave your head spinning. He holds out his hand for you, a gesture you gladly accept. He helps you down from the counter, balancing your plates and bowls on his arm. You sit across from each other at the small dining room table. “So what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a shit hole like this?” He asks with a chuckle.

“Unfortunately this shit hole has one of the best colleges in the state.” You respond with a laugh of your own.

“What’s your major?”

“Mechanical engineering.” You respond the moment he finishes his question. He looked very perplexed by your answer.

“What made you want to take that up?” He leaned forward, completely focused on you alone.

“Well, honestly, you did.” You blush a bit as you respond. “The animatronics you make are phenomenal. I hope one day I can be half as talented as you are.” He looks away bashfully, not used to such direct flattery.

“Maybe I can have you help out in the workshop sometime.” He offers with an excited glint in his eyes.

“If it means spending more time with you I would love to.” You shoot him a flirtatious smile. You find yourselves drifting closer together as you clean up after dinner. You gathered up your plates, standing on your toes to try and put them in the cabinet with the rest. You let out a frustrated sigh as you struggled to reach. The warmth of William’s body pressing into yours from behind made you freeze.

“I got it sweetheart.” He chuckles, taking the plates from your hands. “Such a cute little thing you are.” He whispers next to your ear making you shiver. You squeal as he lifts you from the floor, taking you in his arms as he carries you upstairs. He tosses you onto the bed, stripping out of his clothes with a groan, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. You can’t help but smirk slightly as you grab him by the wrist and pull him in to kiss you. “Strip, I wanna hold you.” He commands. You decide to give him a little show, taking your time to peel out of your jeans, swaying your hips as you pull your top over your head. You stripped out of your lingerie before straddling his lap. His hands knead your ass, rocking you gently against the already half hard erection in his boxers. He pulls you into bed, shutting off the lights before joining you himself. He slings an arm over your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. You bite your lip, shifting your hips as you feel his cock press into your back. The moon cast in through the window, basking the room in a dull silver glow. You hear William’s breath catch in his throat as you press your ass into his throbbing member. “Someone’s needy.” He chuckles, his breath hot against his ear. “What’s the matter bunny, need me to fill you up?” You nod, letting out a soft whine as you push back into him again. He places a kiss just below your ear, spreading your legs with his hand as he lines himself up with your entrance. You let out a broken moan as he slowly pushed inside of you.

“Holy fuck.” You gasp, your fingers digging into his forearm as you grab him tightly as your walls stretch painfully around him. “Wow.” Your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled back in your head. His fingers slid around your throat, putting a delicious pressure on your neck.

“Such a good bunny, taking me so well.” His meticulous hand placement was starting to make you feel light headed, the mixture of the sensation and his praise making you dizzy with dopamine. You moan as he rolls his hips slightly. “You feel so good squeezing around my cock.” He purrs before placing a kiss on your cheek. You squirmed and whined as you lay there, impaled on his throbbing cock. William groaned at how wet you were, he could feel your juices dripping down the base of him. “So pretty sweetheart.” He coos, chuckling at your desperate state. His arm tightens around you, rolling his hips and causing you to cry out. You cursed as he pushed impossibly deep inside of you, your body moving instinctually as you bounced on his cock. He groans, his hips snapping up to meet yours. Your moans grew louder and more fervent with every thrust, his tip kissing the perfect spot inside of you everytime. Your thighs started to shake as you felt your climax creeping up on you. “Are you going to cum for me sweetheart?” He asks in a sweet voice. You nod, biting your lip to try and muffle your moans. You yelp as he suddenly delivers a sharp slap to your ass. “I want to hear you bunny.” He growls in your ear.

“Yes sir.” You gasp, letting your moans fall freely from your mouth. You let out a high pitched whine as your orgasm hung joust out of reach. You moan out his name, he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, making you cry out in pleasure. He reaches a hand in between your legs and swipes his fingers over your clit.

“So good for me.” He praises you. He wraps his hands around your waist, helping you fuck yourself faster on his cock. You scream his name as your orgasm rips through you, sobbing as he fucks you through your climax. Your whole body shook, your hand gripping weakly onto his wrist. “I got you sweetheart.” He whispers, settling himself deeply inside of you. Your eyelids felt heavy as you nestled into his soft pillows. He pulls the comforter up around your shoulders. You smiled at the scent of his musky cologne. Every small shift from him made you whine, after letting you rest for a while he began to rock his hips again. Small gasps and sighs falling from your lips as he tenderly fucks into you. “I’m gonna fill you up.” He groans, his thrusts growing uneven and stuttering every so often.

“Please.” You moan softly. Hearing your soft voice only seemed to spur him on. His slow deep thrusts had both of you moaning. You held on tightly to William’s arms, wanting to be pressed as close to him as possible. He groans your name as he finishes, his hips stuttering as he pushes as deep inside of you as he can manage. He places soft kisses to the nape of your neck as he pulls you into his chest. You found yourself easily drifting off in his arms, before you knew it you had drifted off into a dreamless sleep. When you woke up you rolled over, cuddling into his warm back. You placed a soft kiss to a couple of the faded scars on his shoulder.

“Well good morning sweetheart.” He hums as he rolls over and pulls you into his chest. “You wanna stay in bed while I get breakfast started?” His voice raspy and deeper than normal as he fought off the thickness of sleep.

“Can you stay in bed just a little longer.” You put, nuzzling your face into his neck.

“Sure, anything for you sweetheart.” He says with a smile and a kiss to your forehead. You laid on top of his chest, your fingers trailing through his chest hair as you talked about the plan for the day. He places a soft kiss to your lips as he slides out from underneath you to go get dressed. You cuddle up into the blankets, watching the muscles in his back flex as he gets dressed. A little while later he returned with a tray full of food, setting it in between the two of you. The two of you chatted pleasantly over breakfast, William consistently making you smile and laugh. “I’m going to head out to the garage, take your time getting ready, I’ll be out there when you’re done.” You grab him by the collar, keeping his lips on yours for a little longer than normal. He shoots you a wink as he slips out of the bedroom. You took your time getting ready, slipping into one of his shirts, the oversized clothing falling half way down your thighs. You washed your face and fixed your hair before wandering downstairs to find William. You heard the sound of powertools and pushed through the door. William stood with a welding mask on, his shirt discarded over a nearby chair. His skin, completely drenched in sweat, glowed in the dim overhead lighting. Streaks of grease dragged down his neck and across his stomach from where he had rubbed his hands across his skin. He flips his mask off when he notices you entered his workshop. “Hey bunny.” He grins. You saunter over to him to look over his expert work.

“You really are incredible, William.” He runs his fingers through his hair as he clears his throat, a noticeable blush on his face. You stood by him, allowing him to walk you through his process, an arm wrapped around your waist as he kept you tucked safely against him.He cursed as he looked up and noticed the time.

“We’re gonna be late.” He takes your hand, leading you inside. He pulls you into a heated kiss as he helps you out of your borrowed clothes. He picks you up and carries you into the shower. You yelped and giggled as your back pressed into the frigid wall. William carefully lets down your hair before allowing you to wet it. You sigh as he works shampoo into your hair, gently massaging your scalp. You couldn’t help but stare as you watched the soapy water run down his body. He wraps you up in a fluffy towel, retrieving your work clothes as you dried off. You both ran to his car, laughing as you fell into the front seats. “I’ll run out and grab the timing belt for your car after I check in on Freddy’s.” He promises. You nod, a bit sad that your stay with him was over so quickly. You fall into him as he turns sharply into the parking lot. He tilts your chin up with a finger, a softness in his eyes as he studies your features. His eyes flash down to the dark bruises and bitemarks that littered your neck. “Are you, um… are you okay with people knowing about this?” He asks with a slight wavering in his voice.

“This?” You ask with a coy smile as you raise your eyebrow at him.

“Us.” He blurts out before swallowing thickly. You lean in ,placing a soft kiss against his lips.

“Only if you are.” He breathes out a soft laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He walks around to your side of the car as you’re gathering your things, opening your door for you. You thank him softly as he helps you out. You link your arm through his, leaning your head on his shoulder. He holds the door open for you, wrapping his arm around your waist before pressing his lips to yours in one long, loving kiss.

“I’ll see you after work, bunny.” He winks before slipping off to his office. You smile as you watch him head out, adjusting his tie and greeting customers as he passes by. You turn to look out over the pizzeria, meeting Ashley’s shocked expression. She speed walks over to you, her eyes immediately falling to your abused neck.

“What happened to catching me up?” She yell whispers at you.

“Things might have gotten a little more serious than just a kiss.” You admit awkwardly.

“Well no shit, look at the hickey’s he gave you.” You smile as you catch his gaze from his position seated at his desk.

“He wants to make sure everyone knows I’m his.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery (I think that's everyone, if you'd like to be added to the tag list or I forgot you please let me know!!)

[radiance1]

"Hey Jazz, I need you to put my arm back on-" Danny paused as two sets of eyes landed on him, one of which bounced over to his stub of an arm, his elbow (and the rest of his arm) hanging limply under his armpit and back over to his face and repeat.

Danny blinked slowly, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. He very forcefully stopped his instinctual reaction to throw his severed arm at the red crime lord and instead wrinkled his nose in disgust.

They've already tried fighting in Jazz's apartment. Didn't end well for either of them.

"Ew." Danny eventually said, and if Red Hood wasn't wearing a mask Danny would say he was probably sharing his same look of disgust. Not that he ever saw the guy's face but who cares.

"Danny." Jazz, ever so calmly, warned. Danny killed the words on the tip of his tongue, sending a quick glare Red Hood's way before looking around the room.

He's already seen it, but better than looking at that thing.

"You two know each other?" Red Hood asked, and Danny scoffed.

Loudly.

"Danny." Jazz hissed in his direction, Danny pretended to whistle with an innocent expression as he stared hard at a particular wall. Jazz sighed. "Yes, I do. He's my little brother, actually."

Red Hood grunted, and silence descended onto the room as Jazz dealt with the Crime Lord's injuries.

A moment.

"Must be pretty stupid to get his arm cut off, or incompetent. Probably both."

"Oh you son of a-"

"Boys." Jazz said, voice sugary sweet and smooth like honey.

Instinctually Danny straightened his back, standing up as straight as he could. Red Hood, since he was sitting down, sat straight instead.

"What did I tell the two of you about fighting?" Jazz asked, and Danny wondered if he should just jump out the window now.

He could probably get away with hitting that red lamppost on his way out too.

"Boys?" Jazz repeated, and Danny looked over to the window. "Danny, Red Hood. I would like to let you know that that window has recently been reinforced," Danny stiffened. "I would have to thank mom and dad for that later actually. So please, don't entertain any thoughts of jumping through it."

Danny grumbled over his breath before huffing. "You said not to when we're in your apartment."

Jazz nodded. "Good, now Mr. Hood?" Jason grumbled something under his breath, and Jazz nodded again. "Wonderful. However, please do not call my brother stupid or incompetent for losing his arm in the future."

Red Hood stayed as still as a statue for a moment, before eventually, hesitantly, nodding. Jazz copied the movement, before turning her face slightly in Danny's direction. "Danny, please close my door and actually get in." Danny did so, sweat slowly dripping down his back when he heard it auto-lock behind him. "Sit over there please, I will be with you in a moment."

Danny did so, quietly cursing his parents' decision to send his sister reinforced glass that acted against his in this very moment just in case someone tried to break into her window.

Or out of it, apparently.

[biapascal]

I have a request pretty pls 🙏 could you maybe write a lil sumn about the reader/oc being married to acacius in a diplomatic marriage to prevent war and show that her country surrenders and they sent her as like a prisoner of war/hostage princess situation. the reader/oc loves Marcus but doesn't think he'd choose to love her over roman beauties and Marcus doesn't want to force her into anything bc of the politics. With like whole lots of yearning, jealousy, angst and oh, more yearning, and the delicious most happiest of endings pls pls pls

Hi honey! 🫶🏻✨ I hope this is enough 🪶

Duties

Tw: forced marriage, loss of virginity mentioned.

First, they killed your soldiers while destroying your city. You saw the streets you walked in your childhood reduced to ruins. The houses were graveyards. They have taken everything and everyone away from you, even from your family. When they brought you to Rome, you were apparently too pretty to be killed. You could have been a slave, but the emperors had other plans for you. You became the general's wife. As your husband, your life was his property as well as your body. In Rome, before the wedding, the girl is supposed to leave everything from her childhood home behind. You couldn't do that because you had nothing left. They took care of you on your wedding day. You had to be a pretty thing for your future husband, nothing more than a doll, like one of those you used to play with as a child. During the ceremony, Acacius was stoic. You were forced to smile and had the impression that he knew this, but couldn't tell what he thought about it. It was almost as if marriage to a beautiful woman was a duty and not a gift from the gods. You were then taken to the house of Marcus for the last rites that would lead to the loss of your dignity. Paradoxically, your husband should have cleansed you with spring water. Meanwhile, the thalamus was prepared. Crocus flowers, considered by the Romans to be a powerful aphrodisiac, were scattered on it. After these rites, you were undressed by an older maid, who also removed ornaments and jewelry that could be dangerous to your husband. you were naked, shivering, your eyes colder than your body. Your sight was blurry and you tried not to look at him. "Can we blow out the candles?" you asked the maid. She shook her head. "You have to see him, now I'll leave you two alone." You finally looked at Marcus and you didn't care that he was a trained general, you would never let that man deflower you. You would rather be killed than to have to carry his child. "Just kill me already, because you are not taking me tonight" you spat. He didn't react. You reached for something to cover your shaking body and jumped when you felt his hand on your arm. "I'm not going to take your virginity tonight." Your expression hardened. "Be a good wife, do as I say, go where I suggest, but know that I won't rape you.” He seemed so serious, you almost couldn't believe it. Then he also covered himself. "Now lie down” he ordered. You slowly did as he said. "Tomorrow they will ask you what happened tonight. Lie, tell them it was painful" you nodded, holding your breath. You fell asleep crying, but you were glad he didn't touch you. The next day, as expected, everyone asked about the first night of marriage. Lying wasn't hard, the other women believed you right away. Life in Rome was depressing. You missed your hometown, the way your people used to act, the typical food. You missed your family, the laughter of the children, your own laughter. Every night Marcus was aware of it and heard you sobbing. He knew it was his fault. The emperors wanted a Roman world, without borders. He was forced to kill and take things from people, but he was not used to it. With you he was gentle, you found yourself searching for him more than once, and you hated yourself for it. "Can I talk to you?" You were in the garden, praying to your ancestors. You nodded and he sat down. "The Romans are greedy. We don't want freedom, we want power."

"We?" you caught him off guard. "No, actually I don't care about power, but I don't expect you to believe me" you gave him a lame smile. "I have to do what the emperors want, and what they wanted back then was your city.” He apologized and you couldn't forgive him. But you felt he was being honest.

February came, the month of rebirth, the Romans had to pay homage to the god Lupercus, and you were still a virgin. the passage to adulthood and the fertility of women was celebrated. Rome was chaotic and several women and men approached you. It was clear that you wanted Marcus to be with you. You couldn't find him and were pulled into the middle of the crowd. He had always given you the impression of being a man true to his own integrity. But you did not know if he was in a brothel on this occasion. "The General's wife!" Two men grabbed your hand and you tried to free yourself. "Come on" they dragged you away from the crowd, and you begged them to let you go. "You should be used to this" one of them said. They were beginning to get irritated with your stubbornness. They were in a hurry to have a look at you and consume you. “Let me enjoy my wife” Marcus arrived. “Won’t you share her with us?” He kissed your cheek and shook his head. "No, I won't share my treasure." You felt strange, you really enjoyed that touch. After that night, you began to soften and you began to know your husband more and more. He was tired, he didn't care about expanding the empire, he just wanted to rest. He was kind to almost everyone, except the emperors. He was wise. He taught you about his ancestors, and you gained the courage to tell him about yours. The nights became your favorite time, you spent hours talking and learning from each other. This was your yearning for intimacy. One night you felt like there were other things you wanted to know, other ways to know him. "I have to be honest with you, Marcus" he nodded. "I'm glad you're my husband. You told me to follow your instructions, but what you have done these months is let me grieve, you have even protected me. Am I still a gift of war or something else?" He approached, his face dangerously close to yours. You felt your cheeks burn crimson. "No” he looked at your lips. "If I may, I'd like to kiss you." You nodded and then felt it. The fear was gone, the mourning was done.

[clementinegreye]

the sweetest sin of all

aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader ||

summary: in the midst of investigating a serial killer who chooses victims based on the seven deadly sins, aaron hotchner finds himself entangled in more than just the case (inspired by hozier's new song 'too sweet'):

word count: 3.4k

warnings: heavy tension, hurt comfort, crossing professional boundaries and general talks of CM violence and murder (nothing graphic):

a/n: hi! i wrote this entire thing for a friend, but maybe you might enjoy it too! this is my first piece of writing on this new blog so if you like feel free to like, reblog or even just let me know! and hopefully if it goes well there'll be more soon!

a/n update: it went well, here's part two!)

From the dim lighting of the office it was almost impossible to tell the exact lateness of the night. His watch consistently ticking, remained a steady rhythm. He ran a hand across his face, his tie undone and lying, long discarded on his desk. The first few buttons of his shirt undone, unbuttoned and an almost vulnerable step away from his usual armour. Papers containing violence were spread haphazardly and with chaos across his desk. A nearly forgotten glass of strong neat whiskey sat in place of his usual bitter coffee.

His team had been on the case for nearly a week, and Hotch felt they were no closer to catching the Unsub. The whole team was feeling the pressure. The profile told him they were dealing with a moral enforcer, a highly organised, violent offender with a clear mission. It should have been easy for them but bodies seemed to be continuously appearing and everyone was feeling uneasy and frustrated.

He was drowning in the details of this case, the Unsub's pattern ever-present in his mind. He thought of the remaining sins - envy, wrath, and lust - and something burned deep within his chest. It was a dangerous game they played, one where the stakes were higher than any case he'd ever worked on.

Being head of the team he felt the responsibility more vehemently than the rest, and he was doing something he’d promised the team he wouldn’t. He was letting it get to him.

There’d been four victims so far, each killed to match one of the seven deadly sins. So far his victims had been; gluttony - an overzealous upscale restaurant critic who binged food that he slated publicly, greed - a high-profile stock broker with the inability to control his obsession with obtaining more of his client's money, sloth - a wealthy trust fund baby who squandered their university scholarship out of laziness and pride - a wealthy woman with a shopping addiction who frequented beauty salons and had an intense social media presence flaunting herself.

Each victim came from a different geographical area of the city and Garcia hadn’t been able to uncover any crossover between their lives where it might have been somewhere they could have met the Unsub. There were no leads and the team felt at a loss. 

Knowing the Unsub was three victims away from the end of his mission, Hotch knew they were close to losing him if they didn’t catch a break soon. He’d sent the team home to get some sleep and told them to be ready bright and early the next day. Yet Hotch couldn't bring himself to leave the office, hoping the crime scene photos might uncover something he'd missed. He thought everyone had listened to his orders until he was drawn away from the graphic images in front of him by a gentle knock at the door.

"Come in." He croaked harshly, the hours of not speaking catching up to his vocal chords.

It was her. Of course, it was her.

She always had a way of pulling him from the edge, of grounding him when the world became too much. In the chaos and uncertainty of their work, she was his constant, his unwavering beacon of light. She was his solace, his calm in the storm, and in that moment, he allowed himself to get lost in her.

She was like honey, dripping out and pooling where flies could get stuck on the intoxication and drown. He could feel it, the danger she could be. If he’d been a man less controlled he could see how she could be his every downfall and triumph. In her, he saw a reflection of all his desires and fears. She was every strength and weakness. In the moment, he couldn't help but want to drown in the intoxicating allure of her, his deadly and dangerous, yet irresistibly sweet sin.

‘I’m heading home for the night…’ Her voice trailed off in a quiet hush to match the silence of the office. 

The creases in his forehead from pouring over crime scenes and endless theories seemed to smooth out. He breathed out hours' worth of tension in a single breath, allowing the corners of his mouth to turn upwards so quickly that unless she’d been a profiler paying attention she might not have noticed. The way his body language shifted was subtle enough to the untrained eye, but not to her. He couldn’t conceal himself in his controlled, cold-edged front as well as he usually could when she was around.

"I gave those orders hours ago." He mused, leaning back in his chair, the breath of a sigh dying on his lips.

She gently shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her. "I thought you might be used to me defying your orders by now, Hotch. You should take your own advice, didn’t you promise to stop working so late," she replied, a glint in her eyes that held an irresistible challenge. Their playful banter was a welcome change from the dark seriousness that he’d been so consumed by moments ago.

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief waiting for his retort.

"I didn’t promise anything." He huffed.

She didn’t wait for an invitation, she didn’t need to. Crossing the threshold of his office and making her way to the imposing desk of the Unit Chief.

She’d not seen her boss look so troubled by a case in a long time. Her gaze was drawn to him as his elbows leaned against the desk, his usually impeccable suit dishevelled. She noted the way the top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a hint of the man beneath the stoic FBI Unit Chief. It was a stark contrast to the man who was always put together, always in control. Yet, in that moment, he looked anything but. Not yet unravelled, but on the edge of it.

She moved further into the office, she was not someone who second-guessed her decisions. She walked with confidence, and perched herself on the edge of his desk, letting her legs dangle over the edge her black work trousers tight across her thighs. She rested her hand on the desk, dangerously close to her Hotch’s, mere centimetres.

His gaze shifted from the papers in front of him and followed the contours of her face, lingering a moment too long on her lips. He swallowed hard, his mind flickering with thoughts he'd held at bay for far too long. But he was Unit Chief, and professionalism might as well have been his middle name. He lightly shook his head, feeling the back of his eyes burn from the focus he’d had all day.

Hotch wasn’t one to open up, he was always controlled but around her, there was a tug at the stitches of his personality.

‘I have a bad feeling about this case.’ He hummed, the night breeze catching against the window. He could smell her perfume, mixing with the scent of burnt coffee and paper. He dare not think about it too long.

He reached across his desk and grabbed his near-forgotten whiskey, downing it in one drag. He bent towards where her legs were hanging over his desk, motioning for her to lift them. She drew them up towards her chest and he opened the drawer beneath her pulling an expensive-looking bottle from it and refilling the glass, this time handing it to her. Their fingers grazed slightly with the exchange. His warm, hers icy cold - meeting to form the perfect temperature.

‘We have no leads. I always trust the profile, but this case… We’ve got nothing.’ His eyes watched her as she swirled the liquid around the glass, her eyes watching it splash against the sides. He sighed in defeat, rubbing his eyes with both of his hands before leaning his head back, a deep exhale exiting his thin lips.

‘We’ll get him.’ She said confidently, something shifted in her tone. It was like a dagger's sharp edge, certainty dripping off it like blood. He almost believed her, but she could see the already dim light dissipating from his dark eyes. She felt sympathy pooling in the tips of her fingers. If she didn’t hadn’t been holding their shared glass she might have reached out and touched him so that it could bleed from her into him, so that he would feel less alone.

She leaned back slightly, her eyes searching his. It was unclear what she was searching for in them. He couldn’t read her entirely, even with all his years of profiling. When she smiled, he felt his heart catch in his throat. It was like looking directly at the sun. Burning and bright hot.

‘You should follow your own orders… And for once so should I. Go home. Get some rest.’ She downed the liquid with a swift tip of her head. Hotch watched the curve of her neck as she moved and the way she licked her lips catching a fallen drop of liquor. She laid the glass down on the desk, allowing her hand to brush over his. His skin crackled with electricity.

She moved with grace as she climbed down from his desk. That one moment shared more intimate than she’d expected it to feel, with their proximity, the lateness of the hour and the unusually undone Aaron sitting at his desk.

His eyes followed her every movement, skin stinging as if he’d been burned. She was halfway to the door before he heard himself call out to her. It almost didn’t sound like his own voice.

‘Wait. Don’t go yet. Come here.’ His voice was firm like it always was, but there was a depth to it that she hadn’t heard before. One she’d always longed for. His eyes glinted with dark hues as he watched her turn from the door. He almost breathed out in relief.

She had an unreadable expression. One that set the blood in his veins on fire. She lowered her head, and with it, her eyes darkened. He stood from his desk, making his way over to her with steps that felt dreamlike. Their eyes met with an energy never shared before and once in front of her he reached out, gently tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear so that he had an unobscured view of her whole face. The same face that had the power to completely undo him.

Her eyes widened slightly as if surprised by his gentle touch, but at the same time, there was a knowing in them as if she’d been waiting for it all along. She remained still, and his heart pounded in his chest as he looked into his eyes, an unspoken conversation passing between them. It felt like any words would have made the moment less intimate.

His hand lingered against her cheek, the warmth radiating from his touch was a stark contrast to the cold, sterile environment of his office. Her skin felt like it was burning under him. The silence between them was palpable, filled with the yet unspoken words and emotions that threatened to bubble to the surface. Hotch, usually so controlled in his feelings suddenly felt so unsteady. His heart beat suspiciously with the feeling that perhaps he’d crossed a line.

‘How do you know?’ He whispered, eyes scanning hers as if he were a detective trying to uncover the evidence that gave her certainty. In the light of the office, she looked like she’d been hand carved, art that he’d been lucky enough to be in the presence of. He traced his thumb over her lips, eyes heavy with a mixture of desire and something else she couldn't quite place. It was a dangerous gesture, one that could endanger his whole career.

'I trust you, and that’s all I need to know that we’ll get him.' she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, eyes glazed with a devotion that almost made him groan. The conviction of her words pierced his wavering confidence. He’d gone from feeling almost hopeless to buzzing with determination.

He let his hand fall away from her face, but the warmth lingered, an almost promise that what she’d been sure she’d felt moments ago had indeed been real. Reality swarmed his brain, aware of the situation he’d almost found himself in. He straightened up, posture contrasting his relatively dishevelled exterior.

"You’re right, you should follow my orders. Go home, get some rest. I told the team we’d start fresh in the morning," he instructed, a softness in his voice that was rarely displayed. But she didn’t move, and he didn’t either.

He watched her eyes for any sign of discomfort, the tension in the room was palpable, an electrifying current that Hotch didn’t dare to break. Silence blanketed them, only broken by the ticking of his watch. It was a solitary reminder of the passing time, yet the urgency of their case had fallen to the back of his mind.

‘Close the door.’ She instructed, using the same authority that Hotch usually spoke with. The change in dynamic almost made him falter, but with a small smirk, he moved towards the door. He’d been aware of the power imbalance he held in his position but with the tone of her voice, there was a subtle shift in the air between them. She moved back towards his desk with certainty. Moving his name tag so she could perch to face the dark space of the office.

Their eyes met across the room. She tilted her head to the side, examining his body language. As he locked the door behind him, the air seemed to constrict around them, the room becoming a world of its own where only they existed. The only sound in the room was the soft click of the lock and their breathing. It echoed throughout the office, bouncing off the walls and settling into their bones. The tension escalated, but it was different now, charged with an anticipation that neither of them could ignore.

He might have been unit chief, but right here, right now, she was in charge. The line between professional and personal blurred dangerously as their eyes locked, a promise of something more hanging in the balance. The air was charged now, they were poised, daring each other to make the first move. They both knew that they were on the precipice of something dangerous, something that could have dire consequences professionally.

Yet, the pull was too strong to ignore, and for the first time, Hotch allowed himself to teeter on the edge, his resolve tested by the powerful undercurrent of desire that crackled between them. Tonight, they were not just colleagues, they were two individuals drawn together by an irresistible force. In the room, the undeniable chemistry that had been simmering under the surface for far too long had nowhere to hide.

On the desk, she rested each hand palm down to the side of her thighs and opened her legs wider to create space for his body to fit. She moved her head in a motion for him to step forward. Hotch couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, pupils were blown wide from more than just the darkness of the room. How long had he craved something so forbidden, how long had he denied himself the idea that this could ever happen?

As he moved closer to her, he couldn't help but think about the deadly sin of lust, a strong passion or longing that was deemed sinful. Here he was, teetering on the edge of crossing professional boundaries, something he’d never done. The balance of energy in the room was no longer solely from the stress of the case, it was about them - about her. He could have tried to argue that it was, but no jury in the state would believe him. If this were a trial, he was about to be found guilty.

The Unsub's deadly pattern echoed in his mind - the three sins he’d yet to kill for; envy, jealousy over another's life or possessions, wrath, a violent anger driven by hatred, and finally, lust, a powerful desire that can become all-consuming, much like the craving he was experiencing in that very moment. Looking upon her he felt envious of anyone who had ever been allowed to touch her, he felt wrath for anyone who had ever wronged or hurt her, and most of all he felt lust. He definitely felt lust, his desire for her taking over all his senses.

Was he caught between duty and desire? No, he had no doubt in his mind. The sheer intensity of her shared gaze and the way she was beckoning him forward smashed the boundaries of their relationship. He’d never seen her in this light, never dared to allow himself to think of her like this. But now she was in front of him how could he ever deny himself something so sweet?

Hotch had always been a man of control, a man who kept his emotions in check. But in this room, with the charged atmosphere heavy between them, he felt his resolve wavering. He was caught in the powerful current of the desire for her that he’d managed to keep at bay. He didn’t want to be in control anymore. 

He closed the distance between them, fitting himself between her legs, his hands landing on her hips as he looked down at her, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She brought one hand off the desk to hold the waistband of his suit trousers, tugging lightly.

“Are you finally going to kiss me, Agent Hotchner?” She asked, voice dripping with honey. Sweetness laced with danger that hit him right in the chest like a bullet.

She was an intoxicating mix of all seven, a deadly sin in her own right. She was his lust, his unending desire. She was his gluttony, the one he wanted to consume endlessly. She was his greed, the one he wanted all for himself. She was his sloth, his reason for inertia. She was his wrath, the one who could ignite a fire in him like no other. She was his envy, the one he admired and coveted. And she was his pride, the one who made him feel like he was on top of the world.

‘You will be the ruin of me.’ He breathed, his eyes almost black. He looked down at her taking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and the way her eyes sparkled with a mixture of mischief and satisfaction. He was entirely wrapped around her finger. Tonight, he decided, he would willingly drown in this sweet sin, consequences be damned.

‘That is entirely my intention.’ She chuckled and he groaned, a guttural sound that felt foreign to him.

"Only if you promise not to tell the team," he murmured, a playful undertone to his voice.

As he leaned down to capture her lips with his, he knew without a doubt that this was a deadly sin he was willing to commit. It was both sweet and intense, a perfect reflection of their now complicated relationship.

Her lips tasted of the whiskey they'd shared, sweet with a hint of burn that left him wanting more. She tasted like a curse, sickeningly sweet as if to cause him decay. He deepened the kiss, pulling her impossibly closer. He was standing on the cliff of the unknown, and he was more than willing to jump and fall headfirst.

As he pulled away, he couldn't help but study her face. He’d come face to face with endless serial killers, and been in the presence of pure evil. But he’d never been so close to something so dangerous. She was a temptation he couldn't resist. Sweeter than any apple in the Garden of Eden. He traced the contours of her face with his fingers, his gaze never leaving hers.

He could still taste her on the back of his tongue, sugar and shared whiskey burning. He’d never been so certain that he’d been willing to trade his control for the intoxicating sweetness that was her. She was a forbidden fruit that was too alluring to resist, and Aaron Hotchner had no more resistance left in him. Not now he’d tasted something so delicious.

After all, wasn't life about balancing the deadly sins and virtues? Tonight, he chose to sin.

(you can now read part two here!)

[theereina]

Never Coming Home

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +1.4K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, death, angst, heartbreak, murder, Rebel Ridge alternate ending, religion mentioned

A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels.

A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

1 month ago

ring ring ring

ring ring ring

ring ring ring

“Mmm… fuck,” I groaned, turning over in my sleep. I yawned as I reached to grab my cell phone from the nightstand. I looked at the phone to see a number I didn't recognize.

I answered the phone and slowly raised it to my ear. The digital clock by the lamp read 3:24 a.m. “Hello, Lily speaking. Who is—”, I said before being interrupted. The loud sound of rustling came through the phone. “Is anyone there?” I asked, becoming a little worried.

I could hear someone on the other end breathing heavily. It sounded like they were running. “Fuck!” I heard the person say through the phone. Was that— Terry? I sat up in bed, throwing my legs over the side. My feet hit the floor with force. “Terry, is that you?!” I yelled, clutching my chest.

I stood from the bed. “Lily!” he shouted into the phone. I could still hear him panting. “Baby, talk to me!” I screamed as worry filled my heart. I began pacing the floor back and forth. I could hear the sounds on the phone beginning to drown out. He was losing signal wherever he was. Static was crackling through now.

“Lily,… I… lo… you… I'm… ry,” Terry tried to say. It was so broken that I was struggling to understand him. It sounded like he said he loved me. “Honey, I love you, too!” I said, pausing to hear him speak. “I should… lis… to you. Just… kn… I'll… al… love you,” Terry said, sobbing.

Terry and I had been together for over 4 years and married for 1, and I had never heard him cry. He was in serious trouble, and I couldn't do anything about it. Before I could speak again, I heard three loud popping noises.

pop pop pop

Gunshots!

“Terry!” I yelled. “Shit!” Terry grumbled. He was panicking and sounded absolutely terrified. This absolute rock of a man was scared for his life. “If… don't ma… home, —,” Terry began before more shots rang out. I could hear what sounded like the phone hitting the ground. Leaves began rustling and boot steps were closing in. Terry's breathing became erratic and raspy, and I could hear a gurgling sound.

“Marston, he's right here. He's hit!” yelled a male voice. “Good! That'll teach that fucker,” said a second male voice. I could hear the sound of leaves rustling and twigs snapping as someone got closer to the phone. I muted the phone before letting out the loudest cry I ever had. There's no way I just heard this. “Check his pulse,” said the second male voice. “He's—,” said the first male. “Oh, well!” laughed the second male.

hawk tuah

“Good riddance. See you in hell, bud. Hahahaha!” laughed the second man. “Marston, don't you think that was a little dumb? I mean you did just spit on his dead body,” said the first male. “Spit on who's body? Ah, hell. Marston, you dumb fuck! You were supposed to catch him not kill him,” said a third man. “Too late for that Chief Burnne, hahaha!” he laughed.

Present Day

“The body’s in here. All you have to do is identify it,” said the medical examiner. “I don't think I can do this,” I said sobbing.

Just looking at the white sheet made my heart shatter. The outline of the body made me sick to my stomach. I knew it was him, but due to formalities, I had to say it was. I was being forced to face the one thing I had avoided for the last month. The realization that Terry was dead.

Entering this room would seal my fate. My husband was gone, and he was never coming home.

The fluorescent lighting illuminated the cold white room. The air inside was suffocating and intolerable. As I was standing there, the medical examiner walked around me. He approached the body slowly. Upon passing, his arm shifted the sheet. It pulled it down just enough for me to see the top of the head to above the eyebrow. Before I could close my eyes, I saw the healed scar on Terry’s forehead. It rested at the front of the right side (his right, my left) of his hairline. A small scar he got from an accident a few years ago.

It was him. As much as my heart wanted to deny it, there was no denying that. It had been a long gruesome month filled with nothing but crying, screaming, and pain.

“I can give you a moment,” the medical examiner said, peering over his glasses at me. “No!— Let's… let's… I feel like I'm gonna vomit. Let's just get this over with. I don't think I can take this any longer,” I said. My arms were crossed over my abdomen. I closed my eyes tightly as I was dreading this moment. I knew whatever was under this sheet would replace the most recent image I had left of Terry.

I could hear the rustling of the sheet being pulled back. I shuddered at the thought of what came next. My breath felt sharp and heavy. I could feel the tears falling from my eyes. I took a deep breath and rolled my shoulders. I needed to get this over with and put this all behind me. “I'm okay. I got this,” I whispered, opening my eyes.

The sight before me broke my heart even more. After all this time of guessing and assuming what Terry would look like, nothing could’ve prepared me for what I saw. His face was almost unrecognizable— swollen, bruised, and battered. An array of blues and purples plastered his brown skin. His face and chest were covered in small cuts from running through the woods. The top of a large exit wound rested at the edge of where the sheet stopped at his chest.

This! This would be the final image I had of my husband. Never in a million years would I have thought this would be how I lost my husband— murdered. To think that Terry went through hell in his last moments hurts me— beaten, chased, and shot like an animal. I always told Terry his big heart and demand for justice would be the death of him. Now, he was never coming home.

I slowly approached his body. I wanted to reach out and touch him, but I couldn't. My hands were trembling. “It's okay. Take your time. I can leave for a moment if you tell…,” he said. “Yes, it's… it's him,” I said. These were the words I had been dreading for a month. The medical examiner nodded before leaving the room. This feeling of— trepidation overcame me. My heart, mind, and body were all collapsing simultaneously. As I got closer to Terry's body, I was overwhelmed by the smell of antiseptics and flesh. It was clear that the time between the murder and now had taken its toll on Terry's decomposing body.

I reached out again, touching his cheek. It was cold and hard. I pulled my hand back. There was nothing familiar or sentient about him. His once radiant face was stiff and unbalanced. That once joyous smile was replaced by a permanent scowl. He had been reduced to nothing more than the aftermath of someone else's wickedness and immorality, a rigid pile of flesh and bones.

Anger began to course through me at the thought of why they did it. How could you do this to someone? All in the name of corruption and ego. A sob escaped my throat, festering with rage and sadness. The sound I let out released only a fraction of the emotions I felt in the last month.

I couldn't believe that I was alone. I would have to deal with all of this myself. Our plans no longer aligned with what I was being forced to live. How could Terry do this to me? The amount of hate in my heart had reduced my faith to absolutely nothing. Why did God let this happen? Even after all of my praying, I was left with this— no husband, no family, and a broken heart.

I looked down at my belly as I rubbed my hands across my abdomen. The tears streamed incessantly down my face. It became too surreal as reality set in. The numbness of the feeling that I would have to raise a child alone was unbearable. A child we planned would never meet their father, and why? How did I deserve this? How did WE?

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[megalony]

Worth The Wait

This is an Eddie x reader x Evan imagine, requested by the lovely @itsmytimetoodream I hope you like how it turned out honey. Feedback is always appreciated.

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Evan Buckley Masterlist

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: When (Y/n) goes into labour, it is far from easy and ends up being a long, hard few days. But the boys help her through it.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As hard as she tried, (Y/n) couldn't stop the tears from trickling down her face and it made her breaths hitch higher in her throat. Her teeth sank down into her lower lip until she could taste blood trickling onto her tongue and turning her mouth sour.

(Y/n) pressed her hands down into the mattress and pushed herself until she was sitting up rather than lying down, but it didn't help. It relieved the weight from her back, but it made the tension shift around in her stomach and the pain was still igniting in her lower back. Right between her hips, it felt like a fire was slowly licking at her hip bones and working its way up along her spine.

She tried to take a deep, steady breath but her back was twinging and seizing up and (Y/n) didn't know what to do with herself anymore.

Reaching her hand out, she gently grabbed Eddie's forearm that was slumped across the middle of the bed. She shook his arm a few times before just pulling his arm until the jolt made his head push down into the pillow and shocked him awake.

"Hm… mi amor, what're you doing?" He stretched his other arm above his head and propped his head up on his hand.

He moved his hand round and twisted his arm out of her grasp so he could press his hand against her lower back.

Eddie didn't know what time it was, but he knew it was late. He had fallen asleep around eleven o'clock so surely it had to be sometime after midnight. (Y/n) didn't usually wake him up. She got up a lot during the night to go to the bathroom and Eddie never woke up or heard her, and she didn't wake him up during the night for anything.

When she had twisted her ankle while he was taking a nap she just hobbled into bed with him and didn't bother to wake him and tell him.

"Eddie, it hurts." Her voice and the little whimper she let out made Eddie wake up on red alert. His head pushed up off his hand and he sat up in bed, moving the cover away from him so he could shuffle into the middle of the bed and sit behind her.

"What hurts, baby?"

His hand stayed on her back while his other hand held her arm and he leaned forward, pressing his lips against her shoulder.

"Everything. God, my back kills a-and the baby keeps moving, Eddie it's bad."

"Okay, okay I know." He could tell immediately that this had to be bad because Eddie knew (Y/n) wouldn't wake him if she was only in slight discomfort. It had to be bad for her to wake him and ask for help.

He began smoothing his hand across her back in slow circles and when (Y/n) leaned her head back on his shoulder, Eddie let go of her arm to press his hand against her abdomen. He waited a few seconds before moving his hand around and tried to press around her stomach.

"You might be going into labour, mi amor." His hand stayed on her back while he reached out to turn the lamp on and shake his head to liven up.

It seemed about right. (Y/n) was thirty-eight weeks pregnant now and they knew that she could go into labour at any moment. That was why Eddie and Evan were working alternate shifts for the next two weeks so that when (Y/n) went into labour, one of them would be home with her. And then they could take their agreed annual leave together to be home with (Y/n), Chris and the new baby.

Eddie knew (Y/n) had been having back pains for the last few days, but he noticed she was very uncomfortable tonight. She couldn't focus on watching tv, she was tired but couldn't settle to sleep and she had clung to him all evening.

"So, so we wait?"

"Afraid we do. I'll time the contractions when they start, hopefully Buck will be home by then."

They couldn't do very much right now. All (Y/n) could do was take painkillers and try to either sleep or move through the pain until her waters broke and the contractions became frequent. The midwife had told them they couldn't go to the hospital until contractions were ten minutes apart or preferably less.

They had a long wait on their hands.

And Eddie didn't want to ring Evan yet while he was on shift. It was past midnight, chances were Evan was either in the bunker room taking a nap or he would be out on a call. It wouldn't be fair to ring him and tell him (Y/n) was in labour when right now, it was the early stages. They couldn't go to hospital or do anything so Evan didn't have to come home because it would just be a long wait.

He may as well stay at work, Evan was the hyperactive one out of the three of them. He was the one who needed to be busy and telling him (Y/n) was in labour would make him flutter about, desperate to find things to do.

"Do you want to try and sleep?" Eddie went back to kissing her shoulder and rubbing his palm across her lower back to see if it would help relieve her pain and discomfort.

It would be easier for (Y/n) to get some sleep now rather than when the contractions started and the pain got worse. But if she didn't want to, Eddie would gladly stay awake with her. And he smiled into her skin when she shook her head and wiggled onto the edge of the bed.

"I can't sleep." She wasn't sure what she wanted to do, but sleeping was definitely not on the list.

"Do you want a bath?" Eddie grinned softly when (Y/n) turned her head to look back at him. He could see the small smile forming on her lips and the perplexed look in her eyes. It wasn't really a normal thing to have a bath after midnight like this, but it sounded appealing. "Come on, let's have a bath."

It wouldn't be the first time Eddie had found (Y/n) in the bath in the early hours of the morning, but that was usually around four or five. (Y/n) tended to feel most comfortable in the bath and she seemed certain that their baby only slept when (Y/n) was laid in the bath. It might work in easing her back pain and make her feel a bit better. Time might also go a bit faster if (Y/n) was comfortable.

"You can go back to sleep, you know." (Y/n)'s voice was soft and quiet and made Eddie's heart flutter as he climbed off the bed and stood in front of her.

"I'll sleep when you sleep. But if you're awake, then so am I." He would gladly take a nap later if (Y/n) managed to get some sleep, but if she was awake in pain, Eddie was staying up with her.

He and Evan promised her they would do this with her and if (Y/n) was in labour, Eddie was going to be right by her side.

She wrapped her hands around Eddie's arm and pressed her lips against his bicep, following him out the bedroom and into the bathroom. Her lips curled into a grateful smile when Eddie found some painkillers in the cabinet and handed them over before he turned the bath on.

"I hope Chris won't need the toilet soon." Eddie murmured quietly while he ran the bath and pushed the bathroom door closed to be safe. They didn't want to wake him.

Chris didn't usually wake up during the night and he rarely got up to use the toilet. But it would be just their luck for him to wake up now and want to go when they were both getting in the bath.

"Do me a favour?" (Y/n)'s eyes followed Eddie as he leaned back up and moved his hands to his hips, nodding silently. She watched the confusion light up his face when she gingerly took his wrist and moved his hand to the middle of her back. "Push." Her request took Eddie by surprise, but he obliged.

He pressed the base of his palm into her back while (Y/n) squared her shoulders and tried to straighten up. A horrible click echoed off the tiles and made Eddie wince, but he could see it helped.

"Alright, come on."

(Y/n) stripped off and let Eddie climb in first before she took his hands and climbed in. When she turned round, his hands moved to her hips to help ease her down and he spread his legs so she could sit between his thighs that clamped down around her hips.

She eased her back into Eddie's chest and tucked her face into the crook of his neck, pressing a tender kiss beneath his chin when his arms wound around her waist. It tickled when he started drawing patterns over her stomach, but when he switched to moving his hands around her stomach, it felt soothing.

"Not long now," Eddie whispered against the top of her hair while he closed his eyes.

It felt like years had passed since they found out about the baby. Everything seemed to have happened in a rush. Telling their families, Evan arguing with his parents and begging them to be happy for him rather than judging him. Eddie's family trying their best to understand and agree because they could see how happy Evan and (Y/n) made Eddie.

Telling the team, getting things ready, telling Chris who had then been adamant he was going to help paint the spare room and help both dads put everything together.

It all seemed to have happened ages and ages ago, but now, they were so close to meeting their new arrival.

"Finally."

***

Moving her hands, (Y/n) leaned forward until her lower back was arched out and her hands were planted down on the bed to prop herself up. She bit down on her lip to swallow down a groan and tried to wait out the sharp pain that tore through her abdomen and around near her hips.

When it finally stopped, she opened her eyes and looked across at the clock on the night stand. Her lip wobbled and her hand slammed down into the bed as she bit down a cry of anger.

Thirty minutes.

Her back pain had been consistent, but her contractions were still just about half an hour apart. She thought for sure that it had only been twenty minutes since her last contraction. Eddie was timing them, but (Y/n) was too because she was becoming impatient.

Not long after she and Eddie got out the bath this morning, a contraction started. The pair of them had managed an hour of sleep, then another power nap early on in the morning. But (Y/n) was getting tired. She wasn't sleepy, she just wanted the pains to become persistent.

She wanted the contractions to speed up and for labour to get moving, she didn't want to be stuck waiting around for the pains to hit and for her back to keep seizing up like this. (Y/n) didn't like waiting.

She reached out for the bag in the middle of the bed and launched it off the bed, across the room. They didn't need it yet. They didn't need the hospital bag (Y/n) had packed last week. Her contractions were nowhere near together and her water hadn't broken yet. They wouldn't be at the hospital anytime soon and that thought made tears burn into her face.

"Baby… have you had another contraction?" Eddie glanced down at his watch as he walked into the bedroom and moved to stand behind (Y/n). When she nodded, he smiled and curved an arm around her back. "That's good, and I've called Carla. She can get Chris from school later if we need her to, and she'll look after him when we're ready."

Carla was more than happy to pick Chris up this afternoon and she had agreed months in advance to have Chris whenever (Y/n) went into labour. Chris loved her and he felt comfortable with her if he couldn't be with one of his three parents.

"It's not good. We'll still be here when he comes home, it's taking forever."

(Y/n) hated to whine but she couldn't help it. At this rate they would still be home this afternoon by the time Chris came back from school, it didn't feel like they would be getting to the hospital any time soon.

"Baby, it's okay, we knew it might take a while. Things will speed up soon." When (Y/n) turned around, Eddie reeled her into his chest.

He felt how tightly her hands dug into his shoulder blades and and each harsh breath that fanned into his shirt when she buried her face against his sternum. He smoothed his hand up and down the middle of her back while his right hand cupped the back of her neck and he peppered kisses against the back of her head.

"I want this to go smoothly." (Y/n) mumbled into his chest while he started to sway them from side to side.

"I know baby, and it will, I promise. Me and Buck are gonna take care of you, and you're gonna be fine."

She wanted labour to go swiftly and easily and have no complications or problems along the way. And (Y/n) wanted to be selfish and wish for the process to speed up. But she knew with it being her first, the chances were higher that it would take a while. She thought she had been prepared for waiting, but it was starting to get tiresome.

"There we go, I think Buck's home." Eddie continued to sway them from left to right as if they were having some kind of slow dance together. He could hear the front door slam shut and the heavy, pounding footsteps signalled Evan was home.

That was good timing, now (Y/n) was having contractions, she needed them both here with her. And they needed to get ready for when it was time to take her to the hospital. Plus, Evan didn't know labour had started yet. He was under the assumption that he could come home, grab a snack and maybe take a power nap and relax with his partners.

He didn't know what he was going to walk into.

"Well, this is a nice view." Evan folded his arms over his chest and pressed his shoulders back against the door frame. One leg crossed over the other and he rose a brow as he looked over at his partners.

Usually, when he came home he would find Eddie pottering about the house or find he had gone to the gym. And (Y/n) would be reading a book, taking a nap or mooching about the house trying to keep busy. This was the first time he had come home to find them cuddled together like they were trying to dance.

"Can I step in?"

Stepping forward, he held his hands out towards them but the bright smile on his lips faded when he watched them closely. He watched Eddie turn to the side as (Y/n) patted her hand on the bed to silently signal that she wanted to sit down. And Evan could feel the panic bubbling up in his chest when (Y/n) sat down and groaned.

Her head flopped forward and her hands started to rake up and down her thighs, scratching into her skin as she arched her back out to try and release the tension.

"Baby what's wrong?" Evan knelt down in front of (Y/n)'s knees and gently took her hands so she would stop scratching. He didn't want her to hurt herself and he needed to know what was wrong. He didn't like the way (Y/n) avoided his eyes and looked up at Eddie instead.

"She went into labour this morning, contractions have finally started." Eddie sat down on the end of the bed beside (Y/n) but he sighed when Evan's expression changed.

"Why didn't you call me?!" He seemed stuck between wanting to reach out and slap Eddie's thigh, wanting to curl his hands into fists, and feeling desperate to comfort (Y/n) in some way. So Evan settled on moving his hands up and down (Y/n)'s thighs while she braced her hands on the bed and leaned back.

"Buck, what difference would it have made?"

"I'm you're bloody partner Eddie, it would have made a lot of difference to know our girlfriend is in labour while I'm not fucking here."

Evan's snappy response was instant and the anger burned bright in his eyes, making Eddie wince while (Y/n) reached down to hold Evan's shoulder. They hadn't done this intentionally to upset him. They didn't want to panic him and drag him home just to wait around. It was easier for Evan to finish his shift because now both men were done with work and once they told Bobby (Y/n) was in labour, their annual leave would start right away.

"And you coming home early wouldn't change the fact that this takes hours, Buck. It's been eight hours and nothing has happened yet, so calm down."

"Thanks. Why not just call me when the baby's born-"

"Stop it." (Y/n) dug her nails into Evan's shoulder and moved her other hand to slap Eddie's thigh. She didn't want them arguing right now, she wanted one of them to make this process speed up so they could have their baby. "You're here now and this baby is taking their sweet time anyway… can I get a hand up, I need to get a drink."

Evan rolled his lips together but nodded, silently ending the disagreement. He wasn't best pleased, but he was relieved to see that this was clearly the start of labour. He hadn't missed much and he was here now, that was all that mattered.

They were all together.

He pushed up and took (Y/n)'s hands, carefully pulling her up while Eddie held her hips and stood behind her once she was up. Evan kept hold of her hand and moved towards the door, but he stopped and turned round when (Y/n) sharply tugged on his hand and stopped walking.

(Y/n) looked down before her eyes locked with Evan's and she felt Eddie tighten his hands on her hips when he noticed too. Her waters had broken. This was a sure sign that labour was in full swing, now they just needed to wait for the contractions to get closer together and they would be on their way to the hospital.

"See, the baby was just waiting for Buck."

***

"Do you still feel sick?" Evan tilted his head forward to look down at (Y/n) when she wriggled around and her legs shifted on his lap.

He continued to glide his hand up and down her leg from her ankle up over her knee while his right hand propped up his head on the back of the sofa. He wasn't sure what time it was, he just knew it was late.

When the contractions were less than twenty minutes apart this afternoon, Evan stupidly thought this might go a bit quicker. But it didn't. Carla brought Chris home to them and he had tea with them before Carla took him back to her place ready for when the boys needed to take (Y/n) down to the hospital.

They couldn't go until the contractions were ten minutes apart or less and it was taking forever. Every time (Y/n) had a contraction, she would squeeze Eddie's thigh and he would keep count, but Evan was the one keeping check now because he was getting jittery and Eddie was asleep.

Evan squeezed the back of (Y/n)'s thigh when she hummed.

The three of them were laid on the sofa. Eddie had his feet propped up on the coffee table and (Y/n) laid over his lap and her legs were resting on Evan's thighs.

They had a bowl on the floor ready in case (Y/n) threw up, which she had done twice since this afternoon and although Eddie said that was normal, Evan didn't like it. He wanted this to go swiftly for (Y/n) so she didn't have to be in as much pain and he wanted to have their baby in his arms already.

Evan let his hand slide up over the shorts (Y/n) was wearing and he wormed his hand beneath her shirt to trace his fingers up and down her stomach. It was crazy to think that in just a few hours, he wouldn't be able to do this anymore. He would be able to hold his baby in his arms and see what they looked like.

They would finally see whether they had a girl or a boy, if they had blue eyes or brown and see how big they were and be able to hold them.

(Y/n) sank her teeth down into her lower lip but it didn't do anything to hide her groan. She turned her head and meshed her face into Eddie's thigh, clenching her hand around his knee when a contraction hit. Her knees pulled up near her stomach and she tensed up and tried to wait it out.

She could feel Evan's hand gliding up and down her stomach and she must have woken Eddie because his hand moved back to card through her hair like he had been doing before he fell asleep.

Her knees stayed up near her stomach and she let her tears soak into Eddie's jeans while he sat up straighter and leaned over her.

"I think we're almost ready."

"Can we go now?" (Y/n) lifted her head from Eddie's thigh and looked between them both. She had stopped keeping count of the contractions because whenever she thought they were getting closer, it seemed like they were getting further apart. She had settled on just waiting for the boys to tell her when they were finally able to go to the hospital.

A look passed between the boys before Evan nodded, they were just about ten minutes apart now. They could take (Y/n) down to the hospital and pray that this wouldn't take much longer.

"Yeah, baby, we can go now. Let's get you up." Evan slid out from beneath (Y/n)'s legs and moved to stand in front of her instead.

He held his hands out and carefully pulled her up while Eddie held her hips and gave her a gentle nudge.

***

"Why isn't anything happening?" (Y/n) hated the whining edge to her voice, but she was past the point of caring now. Tears were melting into her face and burning her eyes that were already sore and beyond tired.

Her hands clenched down around the rail on the end of the bed and she arched her lower back out so see if it would help relieve the tension, but it didn't. She shifted her weight from foot to foot until she felt Evan's hand on her lower back and his chest mould up against her side.

Tears continued to stream down her face as she turned to the right and let go of the bed so she could fist Evan's shirt in her hands instead. Her temple pressed forward into the middle of his chest and his arms bound tight around her waist as Eddie moved to stand behind her. She could feel Eddie's hand on her lower back as he leaned against the bed and crossed one leg over the other.

"Baby, something is happening. You're almost there now, I promise-"

"I'm not!" The words burned at the back of (Y/n)'s throat as she sobbed. "I c-can't wait much longer… just let me push."

She didn't want to wait. She had been in labour for almost two days now and she was getting fed up. (Y/n) thought when they got to the hospital that she would have her baby within a couple of hours. But each time a midwife had come along to examine her, she hadn't been dilated enough. She was at eight centimetres now and if that hadn't changed soon, (Y/n) wasn't going to wait.

Damn the consequences, she would rather try and push already and demand her body work with her. This was taking too long. It was too hard. She was too tired. It had to hurry up now.

"Mi amor, as soon as you're ready, that will be it. Everything will be all over when you start pushing, I swear it won't take long then." Eddie pressed up behind her and cupped his hands over her hips.

He knew the process. He had been there when Chris was born and he had seen women give birth on the job. One (Y/n) was ready to push, that wouldn't take long. This was the longest part, within an hour of wanting to push she would have the baby and it would all be over and done with.

(Y/n) found herself nodding along, but she wasn't sure she agreed. If that was the case, why couldn't she just push already? Surely if she started pushing, her body would get the hint and reach ten centimetres a lot quicker than waiting around like this. Why couldn't she push and speed up the process that had taken far too long already?

It wasn't supposed to take this long. (Y/n) wanted to be one of those women who were in labour less than a day. This was dragging out on purpose and it wasn't fair.

"How are we doing in here?" Amanda, their midwife, poked her head around the door as she snapped on a pair of gloves and walked in when she knew she wasn't interrupting anything.

"Ready. I'm ready… please, please let me push now." (Y/n) turned her head so her cheek was pressed against Evan's chest so she could look over at Amanda. She could see the sympathy on the young woman's face and she smiled kindly. Every time Amanda had come in to check, she had been kind and caring and very sweet when she politely told (Y/n) she wasn't ready yet. (Y/n) wouldn't handle hearing that for a fourth time.

"Let's get you on the bed and take a look, sweetie." She motioned towards the bed and stood out the way. She knew she wasn't needed to assist (Y/n) when she had both her boys here with her.

A broken cry escaped (Y/n)'s lips and she pulled on Evan's shirt when another contraction hit. Her knees bent and she looked like she was about to fall down to the floor.

"Okay, shhh, it's alright." Eddie pressed his lips to the back of (Y/n)'s head and kept hold of her hips while Evan tightened his arms around her waist to hold her into his chest. If she went down on her knees they would never get her back up again. "Come on, up on the bed."

(Y/n) let them shuffle her round to the bed but she didn't like the feeling of being sat down. Standing up felt better.

It was a relief to have Evan sat on the bed with her and when she leaned forward, he moved behind her so she could lean up against his chest. His arm curved around her waist and his lips attached to her neck while Eddie stood beside them with his hand deadlocked in (Y/n)'s.

The three of them stayed content and silent as Amanda checked to see how dilated (Y/n) was this time. Eddie brought his free hand up to bite down on his thumb out of anxious habit, but when Amanda smiled and nodded, he could feel the relief pouring out of him.

"Let's just check baby, shall we?" Amanda leaned over and moved to press her hands to (Y/n)'s stomach. The baby had been constantly wriggling around since labour started but last time she checked, baby had been facing the right way with their head down.

"Can I push now?"

"You can start pushing on the next contraction… but baby has moved around. They're going to be breach, I'm afraid."

(Y/n) slumped her chin down onto her chest as her shoulders started to shake and she cried. Why was the baby doing this to her? First labour had taken so long to get in full swing and it had been two days to bring her to this point. And now their baby was the wrong way round. That complicated everything. That meant it would be harder for (Y/n) and something could go wrong.

"It's okay, you're almost there now mi amor. You'll both be fine." Eddie moved his free hand to the back of (Y/n)'s head as he leaned down to kiss her temple. He let her lean her head into his chest while Evan stayed curled over her back like a protective blanket.

"Big pushes (Y/n), you've waited long enough for this baby."

She had one hand curled around each of her boy's hands and (Y/n) kept her head tucked into Eddie's chest and her eyes stayed as tightly closed as she could manage. She could feel her knees shaking when she pulled them up and she tried to sit forward, but it felt like her stomach was being wrenched in half.

She pulled Evan's hand up until she could press it against her chest and she bit back the urge to be sick. She hadn't eaten anything since she went into labour and she had nothing left to throw up, no matter what her stomach was trying to tell her.

"Again… and we've got the legs. Take a breather, try to relax for a moment."

(Y/n) wanted to smile. She really did, but she was too torn up to smile when she didn't have any energy left and she wasn't even finished yet.

But she could feel Evan smiling against her shoulder and Eddie kept tangling his hands through her hair and brushing it back in a methodical way that made (Y/n) want to fall asleep. If only she could.

"Let's keep pushing then."

"You're almost done sweetheart," Evan nudged his nose against (Y/n)'s neck and pecked her skin gently.

Tears tracked down (Y/n)'s face and she felt like she was on fire when she heard the midwife say that the arms were out. It hurt even worse when she felt the shoulders being born. She was almost there but she felt like she was out of energy now. Her last reserves were running on empty.

"I- I can't." She shook her head against Eddie and sucked her lip between her teeth. Couldn't she stop now? Couldn't it all be over and done with now?

"Yes you can. We've got you, you're so, so close now."

"(Y/n), you need to push now. We don't want baby waiting too long in case they try to breathe. Big pushes." Amanda's tone was gentle but her words were coaxing and stern. Being breach put the risk of the baby trying to breathe while their head wasn't quite born yet. They didn't want the baby to breathe and start to suffocate so they had to be quick.

Everything burned like it was on fire and her body started to shake like she was being electrocuted which made Evan and Eddie shake along with her.

Her stomach clenched and tightened when she finally felt that last push work and the weight shifted and pulled away from her abdomen.

"We've got you," Eddie murmured against her hair when her weight slumped forward into him and she almost folded over onto her legs. He let go of her hand to wrap his arm around her front and he slowly eased her back into Evan.

They both watched the way her head lolled against Evan's shoulder and her eyes started to roam from left to right. She had blacked out. She couldn't see anything but darkness and white spots blinking far in front of her.

"That's our girl, you did so great." Evan kissed her neck and looped both arms around her waist while Eddie brushed her chin and tried to get her to take deep breaths. He could see her eyes coming back into focus as her chest heaved like her lungs were expanding so much they might just explode.

(Y/n) wanted to smile, but she didn't quite have the energy. Not until she looked down at Amanda and heard a sharp, piercing cry from the newborn in her arms.

"You've got a little girl. Which dad is going to cut the cord?"

A look passed between Evan and Eddie before Eddie nodded at Evan and pointed at him. "I got to do it with Chris, this is your turn." As much as Eddie would want to do it again, he knew it would mean a lot to Evan. Eddie had cut the cord when Chris was born, it was only fair that Evan got a turn.

(Y/n) reached out and coiled both her arms around Eddie's bicep when Evan slid out from behind her and Eddie took his place. He sat behind her, letting her lean into his chest while his arms cocooned around her and his lips pressed to the back of her head.

She felt Evan's fingers skim across her ankle and up the back of her leg before he focused on his task. It was hard for him to stop his hand from shaking when he took the scissors and cut the cord where Amanda had clamped it off.

"Here's your little girl,"

A grin broke out on (Y/n)'s tear-stained face and her arms moved up to curl shakily around her baby when the newborn was placed down carefully over her chest. She brushed her finger across her daughter's head, feeling the tiny wisps of dark hair that felt like cotton wool against her skin.

Eddie brushed his hand across the back of their daughter's head while he stayed curled around (Y/n). And Evan moved to sit back down next to (Y/n)'s thigh, staring at their little girl in wonder.

"Wasn't she worth the wait?" Eddie murmured quietly into (Y/n)'s ear. He could feel the tiredness washing away and he just knew that even if (Y/n) managed to get some sleep, neither he nor Evan were going to sleep yet. They would be staying awake through to the morning, watching over their little girl.

They all knew Evan would be ringing Bobby and Maddie soon to tell them they had a girl and Eddie would call Carla first thing in the morning so she could bring Chris down to see his sister.

Evan reached across and skimmed his fingers up and down (Y/n)'s arm while he looked down at the little girl in her arms. They could tell he was desperate to reach out and take hold of her, but he was trying not to. He was trying to be patient and hold back because (Y/n) had gone through all of that pain and torment, the hours of agony. She deserved to sit and cradle their daughter for however long she wanted.

As soon as she put her down, Evan would snatch her up, and then everyone would have to fight him to hold her.

"You took your time," (Y/n) kept her voice quiet and closed her eyes, letting the image of her daughter burn into her mind while she leaned her temple against Eddie's jaw.

"Don't worry, I'm sure next time will be a lot quicker." A grin broke out on Evan's face when Eddie nudged him in the thigh and raised a brow. It wouldn't do them any good to start winding (Y/n) up and teasing her, not after all she had just been through.

"You're already planning another? You wanna put me through all that again?"

"Ignore him." Eddie murmured into her hair while he rubbed his hand up and down her waist. Evan was only teasing. But they both knew what he was like. He loved the bones of Chris and he had been over the moon to know (Y/n) was pregnant. He wouldn't object to having more kids, it would be his dream plan to have at least four or five kids, if his partners agreed of course.

But as (Y/n) stared down at the little girl in her arms, she smiled fondly, because Eddie was right. Despite everything, she was worth the wait.

[thedgeoftheuniverse]

ROTTEN. | astarion

pairing: astarion x gn!reader

warnings: healthy dose of angst and self-loathing, mild sexual descriptions and references, wrote this in less than 2 hrs so give me a break, mainly astarion's pov idk it just happened that way

word count: 2.6k

For a moment, his voice tries to betray the weight of this confession, but he knows there is no softening the blow of this—of both a confession of love, and an admission of guilt, and he is unsure if one is enough to outweigh the other. He knows this is the end; he knows you will finally see him for the wretched thing he is, and he will once again find himself alone and lonely.

He's using you.

He knows he’s using you; since the moment he laid his eyes upon the weathered lines of your face, you were his newest target—the first one of his own choosing. He initially planned to kill you; you couldn't turn on him or drive a stake through his ribs if you were already dead, and he already had enough to worry about without adding additional fuel to the already burning fear he had for his life. Not to mention, he was hungry and getting worse by the minute. He planned to call for help—play the damsel like he did countless times before, catch your attention for only a moment, just long enough to get close enough, and slit your pretty little throat.

Every step played out perfectly. You approached him just like he knew you would—his pretty face has always granted him the illusion of being a safe person; you answered his calls for help, just like he knew you would. All you had to do was get close enough, and he would take care of the rest.

Though he was completely thrown off kilter when you offered to help him, rather than leaving him to the ‘things’ in the bush. In a split second, his plan changed. If you were willing to help a stranger in the mess that the pair of you found yourselves swept up in, what would you do for someone you thought was a friend? A lover? Perhaps the wizard of—at the time—unknown power, quite frankly threatening incineration, were his knife to continue its trajectory, did encourage a modicum of restraint and de-escalation on his part, though he will never give him such credit.

However, the most unexpected change in plans was the direct, albeit slightly painful, mental link shared between him and you. You were infected—same as him—by a Mind Flayer parasite, ready to take over your body and destroy your mind in an alarmingly short timeframe.

You were an ally—a useful one and tentatively worth sparing—so long as you could continue to benefit him.

So, he started with a simple introduction: “My name's Astarion.” Spoken with a dramatic flair and a sickeningly sweet undertone that could only be found after two hundred years of charming pretty faces and innocent minds. In the moments between his introduction and the offering of your name, while the words still clung to the empty air between, Astarion formulated a new plan. It was brilliantly simple and borderline foolproof. All he had to do was convince you to fall for it, and his safety was nearly guaranteed.

(He now knows that hindsight always paints a clearer portrait than the present, and he is a fool in more ways than any would dare to calculate.)

He started small, coated his words in honey, and never oversold the part—playing into the role of the mysterious charmer that he had perfected all those years ago. He was honest, reliable, and always came to your aid during battle; he made you believe he was someone that could be trusted, no matter what your instincts may have convinced you otherwise. He was charismatic. A stolen glance here, an accidental touch there, a subtle look in his eyes that betrayed far more debaucherous intentions than what a gentleman such as himself would ever dare voice in the presence of someone as pure as you.

Perhaps, though, he erred too close to the side of caution and played his part too carefully. Vampirism is no easy condition to conceal, and the lesser creatures he managed to feast on during the night were horribly unsuitable to sustain him in the midst of such a perilous—and quite frankly, exhausting—journey. He was in a rapidly deteriorating state and worsening by the minute; he needed an intelligent, thinking creature to sink his teeth into if he wished to be of any use. He could not imagine a universe in which he would be allowed to remain in the company if he could not pull his own weight in battle or the camp.

He obscenely and undeniably fucked up when he chose to attempt to sink his fangs into the supple skin of the pretty little neck he nearly mared just a few weeks prior. He could not identify exactly why he believed he could get away with such an act undetected; his extreme hunger could be to blame, though he could not deny that the sweetness of your blood caused an insatiable stirring in his gut—he could smell it from six feet away. It permeated the air around him, nearly making him dizzy with the want—no, the need—to taste you. If hunger had driven him mad once again, then you were to blame, and therefore you were responsible for paying.

All thoughts of your reparations, however, were thrown from his mind the moment your eyes opened and he remembered that you possessed the ability to end his unnaturally long “life.”

“Shit.” His mind was completely blank. “It- It’s not what it looks like. I swear.” He could only hope that his performance would award him a standing ovation and the momentary benefit of the doubt: “I wasn't going to hurt you. I just needed... well, blood.”

It was not the confession he hoped to perform for you. He was meant to come to you, fully conscious, and present the idea as his own—he would choose to come to and confide in you. (I feel as though you and I have a… strong bond. I believe I can trust you. I cannot bear to keep this from you a moment longer.) with pretty words and round eyes. Instead, he was on his back foot and practically begging you not to ram a stake through his ribs.

And that is where his brilliantly simple plan began to pay off…

For a time.

You offered your body to him in more ways than one, and he intended to take full advantage of them all.

The sex was easy; it came to him perhaps more naturally than his flirtatious demeanor. He gave you the performance of a lifetime—he fed you borderline godly pleasures on a silver spoon while you dug your nails into grassy forest beds and moaned his name into the treetops. He knew exactly what to do to your body; he hit every single pleasure point with beautiful precision, used his mouth in all of the right places, sprinkled in the perfect praises, and made you beg just enough to make you believe you had to work for the pleasure of being underneath him and you deserved to be rewarded for it. He made sure every little word from his mouth was almost as perfect as what his mouth could do to you.

(Gods, you're beautiful.)

(Tell me how you want it. Use your words.)

(It’s as if the Gods made you to ruin me.)

He did not mean a single moment of it…

He knows he didn't. He knows, without an unparalleled doubt, that he did not mean a single sugar-coated word when he spoke in those intimate moments. He knows how vile he felt before, during, and after; he knows the suffocating self-loathing that consumed him for days after your first late-night tryst and every single night after that. He knows that, deep down, he wants you to see him as more than a sexual being, though he is not sure what else he could possibly be if not this. He knows that his manipulation was calculated and intentional; you were meant to be nothing more than a means to an end. You would help him remove this cursed tadpole embedded in his brain; you would help him kill his former master; and you would help him grasp a power that has never before been held by another vampire. You would hand him the entire world because he convinced you that he deserved it, and then he would dispose of you, as he did with the rest of his victims.

It was a brilliantly simple plan, and yet it all managed to fall apart. He is sure he played out every step perfectly, and somehow, you managed to change his plans once more.

It was never more apparent to him than right now.

Right now, as he watches you saunter around the camp, offering various greetings and the most beautiful smile he believes he has ever seen in his two hundred years of life, he realizes that you are the most incredible being he has ever gazed upon. And never has it been more apparent to him that he is a rotten thing—nothing more than a bloodthirsty monster that pretends he can believably wear the mask of a man. He thinks this is the closest thing to love he has ever felt, and even now, he will never be able to show it to you in a way that means something.

How could he have been so stupid?

How could he not have anticipated this outcome?

How could he have been so ignorant of the pining in his heart and wound up in such a situation?

His inner turmoil must have been more obvious than he would have preferred, because when you approached him, your face screamed with worry. “Astarion?” You questioned, “You look... stressed.” He was unable to find the words to respond. Something about the light shining on the hard lines of your face, leaving a shadow that danced across your cheekbones, captivated him, and he lacked the strength to look away—he doesn't think he wants to. Perhaps he could spend one hundred years gazing on the wonderful imperfections and blemishes on your skin until he has memorized every detail through the end of time, so that when you are no longer breathing, he may breathe your life once again himself, so that when another one hundred years have passed and you are nothing more than ash in the ground, he will be able to recall every minute detail of your face.

“Are you okay?”

He is on another plane of existence until the sweetness of your voice walks him back into the present.

“I… I think we need to talk.” His voice betrays him, just as his face did moments before.

You respond as you always have—with care and concern and a compassion running so deeply through your veins, it would be impossible to fabricate: “Are you alright?”

And he realizes the answer is no. He realizes that no matter the intensity of his devotion (or perhaps, is this what love is supposed to feel like?), he can never undo the damage he has caused. He can never change the sweet little lies he whispered into your ear late at night as you exposed your body to him; he can never change the intentional manipulation behind his words as he told you of your beauty; and he can never remedy the fact that he took advantage of you. You—who is made of honeysuckle and mandarins, who he has grown to so deeply care for, who he will ruin in a heartbeat if he were to ever truly love you. And perhaps he will never be able to love you. Perhaps if you are not a target, then you will never truly be anything to him; he is far too damaged to ever love you in a way that is pure and without the promise of personal gain. Perhaps he has always been and always will be a monster and deserves such treatment. He will never be able to share your bed without feeling disgust and hatred for himself. He will never be your lover, no matter how desperately he now knows he wishes to be.

“No—Yes, I just… feel awful.” Your face tells him he owes more of an explanation. He knows you are owed it. “Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan—seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so that you would never turn on me. It was easy... instinctive.” For a moment, his voice tries to betray the weight of this confession, but he knows there is no softening the blow of this—of both a confession of love (is this what love is supposed to feel like? I think I would rather choose the stake.) and an admission of guilt, and he is unsure if one is enough to outweigh the other. He knows this is the end; he knows you will finally see him for the wretched thing he is, and he will once again find himself alone and lonely.

(He now realizes these are two very different states of being.)

“All you had to do was fall for it.” Your face is twisted into something resembling grief. “And all I had to do was not fall for you… which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” Your eyebrows are furrowed together, and your face has morphed into something entirely unreadable, but you almost seem relieved.

“I…” Another sigh: “You deserve something real.” He cannot bring himself to look into your eyes.

A heavy sigh escapes your mouth as your eyebrows relax. “I only want you.”

“Why?”

“I don't believe you to be the monster you think you are.” If he had a heartbeat, he is confident that would have stopped it. He cannot fathom a universe where he is more than what his master made him to be.

“You don't know me.”

“Then show me who you are, Astarion.” He isn't sure when you managed to get so close to him. “Let me be here for you.”

“You don't know what you're asking for.” He can feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He will never be able to give you what you’re asking for, yet you still seem to want him all the same. He knows that he is no good, that he will never be more than the image Cazador sculpted him in; he is capable of tenderness no more than the Gods are capable of answering his cries for help. And yet, here you stand—headstrong as ever, practically begging him to give this a chance, and he desperately wants it. “It’s rotten work.”

“Not to me.” Your hand reaches into the space between you to gently cup his face.

“I can't give you what you want. Being close to someone—any kind of intimacy—was something I… performed to lure people back for him. I know this is different; we’re different, but it still feels… tainted.”

“I already told you what I want.” His eyes met yours for the first time since you approached his tent. “You. Whatever it is you have to offer, I want it. It's not a dirty job; it's just you.”

For a brief moment, Astarion is able to lose himself in such a fantasy; your eyes shine as though galaxies were constructed in your irises, and he can spot no inkling of deception. Your hand is soft against his cheek as he leans into the warmth of your touch, and it does not go unnoticed that you choose to keep your hand placement modest—as though you were a gentleman dancing with a lady in a fancy ballroom while all the guests silently stared.

“I don't know what to do from here.” He places his hand over yours and leans into your touch even harder—he almost resembles a wounded dog, searching for any ounce of tenderness he can find in this midst of such an ugly world—”But I know that this... this is nice."

As you wrap your arms around his waist and nestle your head into the crook of his shoulder, Astarion believes that this is something he may be able to get used to. 

Thank u for reading !!! Prob making a part 2 that is more .... idk angsty and more "I'll take care of you" if yall want it

[talkbycolor]

I deserve this

A/N; at this point its obvious that i inspire in rebzyyx songs

Pairing; "Your Boyfriend" x AFAB!Reader (cus people are scared of the word trans)

CW; reader becomes willing at the end i swear / unhealthy, obsessive and possesive love / sensitive topics such as mental health, depression, anxiety, fear of abandonment, dissociation, suicidal thoughts / a crazy concept: he talks about his emotions!! / non-con, violence, like, i cry while i masturbate

It's quite blurry trying to remember how it all started, it seemed harmless to accept a date from a stranger, he gave you a beautiful rose and was quite kind to you.

Feeling that people could like you, that someone could be romantically interested in you, because of who you are, your personality, that they knew your… desires?

Because you had dreams, of course.

…

Your dream was to live, to live a quiet life, a stable, pleasant job, with good pay, a normal and peaceful life, where the deep emptiness in your heart was non-existent, years had passed and the monotonous feeling did not disappear, you had already accepted the pain, after all, if you felt that constantly it was probably because you did something wrong at some point, right?

But that was a personal dream that would never be shared.

And it's not like that matters now, not when you're in… A room, that's funny, your last memory is of Peter slamming you against the table to tie your limbs since their last date didn't end as expected and It was time to go home.

Return to an empty home, for what? Peter was more than willing to take care of you, why was he so scary? Accepting it would have made things easier, but you ruined everything by trying to run away, you even fought tooth and nail, that was too pathetic now that you remember it, maybe you DO deserve all the shit that is happening.

You could have saved yourself so much terror and attacks.

"PETER ENOUGH! PLEASE! LET ME GO! NO! NO! FUCK, PLEASE!" You tore out your throat with terrified screams and tried to claw at his skin until your fingers were bloody, biting the hands that tried to stop your screams, hitting his face with your elbows and kicking him away, crawling like a dying animal away from him. "PETER!" You sobbed sharply before losing consciousness.

But nothing worked, resisting only made all that shit worse and now you were tied up, in Your boyfriend's old clothes.

You barely remember how you got to that place, or if time passed, anyway that doesn't matter anymore, from one day to the next you find a very small piece of clothing that turned out to be yours, time passed, your body grew but your mind didn't, they keep lying but you know that your life will depend on how well you do it.

And you're not doing it right, you tried to adopt toxic happiness but you couldn't even maintain it for a while before exploding, sadness was already an everyday thing and you just weren't feeling it anymore.

"Dear?"

Just peace please, how hard could that be? It was annoying, you even felt angry for feeling so empty, because people were so rude and the constant rejection killed you socially.

It was hard to breathe, wasn't it?

"Love? Do you hear me?"

It feels like the end, your soul is bleeding, you wish your stupid job made you feel a little more alive and motivated to continue.

And now you have done so many things to escape from that monster that pulls you back to the room to devour you under the bed.

"Darling!" Your boyfriend's voice echoed through the room, making you look at him once and for all, your eyes tired despite having been unconscious most of the time.

"…" You wanted to respond, really, but what were you supposed to say?

"You must be exhausted, you didn't even touch dinner" It was a tricky phrase, he had tried to feed you since you were tied up.

"Peter-…"

"I already told you that I prefer to be called other way, honey" He responded with a smile and a definitely not irritated tone.

"I want to sleep" He left your lips, he was being so caring, taking care of your health.

He kidnapped you.

And you couldn't even thank him for it.

He knocked you out.

You really were an ungrateful shit, weren't you?

He locked you up.

You wanted to return the signs of affection.

Soon the ropes left your body, Peter helped you stand up and you both walked to the bedroom, he was still carrying a small plate with a light dinner, he refused to let you go to bed without having eaten dinner.

Once in bed, he made sure that you had a proper dinner, and he helped you change your clothes so that you would be comfortable in bed, he also did the same with his attire and now you were both lying down. It always made your stomach churn when he looked at your half-naked body.

"Dear" He murmured next to you while you tried to sleep as soon as possible, so many things had happened those last few days that the only way out was to sleep, you had probably already been fired from your job for not showing up. "Honey, love, darling," he said sweetly as his hand went up to your cheek, he simply looked at you with a huge and probably painful smile on his face, almost tattooed, you made him so happy with your mere presence.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, your mind still cloudy enough to refuse anything, so you just went up to kiss him, the room was very dark and there weren't even crickets echoing at night, the amount of silence was overwhelming… of course, that didn't count the lip-smacking they shared.

So it continued.

For a long time.

"Pet-…uhm, I mean, honey, I'm tired and I want to sleep" You interrupted the honey session.

"Please, you don't have to do anything, just let me love you, darling" his voice was soft, soothing to that darkness but not to the painful weight in your heart and the knot in your stomach, his touches felt strange.

You know that's wrong, you don't like it.

You didn't stop him, just like he said, you let him love you as you closed your eyes and a buzzing sound echoed in your head, like television static, your bottom clothes had disappeared, but that didn't matter.

You couldn't hear anything, you didn't see anything, your body reacted but your mind was very far from that place, you wandered through your memories, fantasies of a life you were never going to have.

It was really digging into your cunt, huh? Even when your mind wanted to flee somewhere else, it was undeniable how he held your thighs and you gasped heavily with each thrust.

His member was still dripping his seed, did he use protection? You don't know, you don't care.

It doesn't matter.

B e cau se s oon y o u w il l b e d ea d.

"Honey? Didn't you enjoy it?" Peter asked with a worried frown.

What the hell is wrong with you? Do you no longer have respect for yourself? You know it's going to hurt you.

Don't you mind dying? You lost hope and you don't even try to help yourself anymore, damned and pathetic attempt at being human, really unnecessary.

"Honey…" Peter caressed your cheeks and brought his forehead to yours, sighing softly and carrying your body to the bathroom in the room.

You didn't say anything either, you just felt how it was cleaning your body, the water was warm, the bathtub full of bubbles, and it smelled pretty good, like coconut soap. Peter hummed quietly as he treated your body with the utmost affection, you were sure he was whispering things in your ear but you were barely aware of your surroundings.

When your eyes finally focused on something you could see the ceiling of the room thanks to the moonlight, Peter was behind you, hugging your body, caressing your hair, and sniffing the soapy fragrance.

"You are so sweet, so unique, so kind, so special to me, a truly exceptional person, I will do everything to make you feel comfortable, darling, I love you so much, my adorable-…"

"Peter"

"… Yes love?" This time he didn't argue about that name, you were finally talking and that was good.

"I'm sorry I feel so alone, I know you're here but…" You wish you could give him an answer but that was something even you hadn't figured out yet.

"It's okay, honey, I'll be with you to hold you, forever."

♡

[ashwhowrites]

Older! Eddie Munson x reader, reader gets angry at Eddie bc of something dumb, but still, she's angry, and Eddie thinks it's funny and cute that she's angry, but still he comforts her and tells her that he loves her, and then she lets him kiss her

Thank you for requesting! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it <3

Slob

Y/N thought living with an older man would mean he acted like an older man. She didn't expect to feel like she was living with a teenage boy who expected Mommy to pick up after him. She also realized old men were just as much slobs as a kid.

After a long day of college classes, all she wanted to do was take a long nap. She walked into the small house, removed her shoes, and walked straight to the bedroom. Eddie was lying on the bed, a remote in his hand as he searched through the channels.

"Hi, baby." He greeted

"Hi, I'm exhausted so I'm going to take a nap. Will you do me a favor and pick up your mess in the living room" She asked, her hands gesturing to the doorway.

"Of course."

~~~

Y/N slowly blinked open her eyes, her eyes caught the clock. She sighed as she realized she slept three hours. The room was dark, and Eddie was nowhere to be seen.

She walked out of the bedroom and headed to the living room. She froze when she saw the mess from earlier was still there.

Eddie's empty beer cans are scattered on the coffee table, his blanket is a pile on the floor and his ashtray is filled with cigarette buds.

On a different day, she wouldn't have been that upset. She knew if she asked again, he'd do it instantly. But the fact that she was so tired, and asked for that simple thing, and he didn't do it. She felt the anger in her body at the idea of asking him again.

"Look who's awake!" Eddie cheered, he pecked her cheek as he passed her. A beer in his hand as he sat down on the couch.

Eddie gave her a look when she didn't say anything. Her eyebrows were scrunched, a pout on her lips, and her hands were on her hips. He couldn't help but realize how adorable she looked.

"I asked you to do one thing!" She said, her voice snarky as she held up one finger.

"I know, baby. I'm going to do it at the end of the night." Eddie said, shrugging his shoulders.

"I meant to do it when I asked you to." Her hand was back on her hip, and he felt like she was a cartoon with smoke coming out of her ears.

"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't realize that. Do you want me to do it now?" He asked.

"YOU ARE UNBELIEVABLE!" she screamed, her right foot stomped into the carpet. Eddie flinched at her outburst. Confusion on his face.

".....is that not what I should have said?" He asked, he sat up straight to give her his full attention.

"UGH!" she screamed, she rolled her eyes and stomped off to the bedroom.

"You wanted to date the twenty-year-old," Eddie muttered to himself. A small smile on his face as he followed behind her. He adored her little outburst, but he knew if he said that she'd kill him. Over his many years of dating, he knew never to call a girl cute when she was pissed.

He knocked on the door, even though the door was open and he could see her sitting on the bed. Her arms crossed and she glared at the wall.

"I'm sorry, honey. I should have cleaned up the living room while you slept so it could have been cleaned when you woke up." He explained, moving as he sat next to her.

"Thank you!" She sighed, her arms uncrossed and her body relaxed. That's all she wanted to hear. She waited for his apology to continue but it didn't.

"And?" She said, her eyes snapping to him.

"And?....." He thought, what else was he supposed to apologize for?

"EDDIE! Have you learned nothing?" She spazzed. Eddie kept in mind she was exhausted from school and that she had to release all her build-up frustrations.

"I'm sick and tired of telling you what to say or do. Why can't you just clean up after yourself? Why can't you just know exactly what to say when I want to hear it?" She ranted. She knew she sounded nuts and it was crazy for him to read her mind. Eddie knew it too, but he wouldn't say that.

"You're right! I'm sorry for being lazy and for always counting on you to tell me what to say or do. From now on, I'm going to work on that." He promised.

"Thank you." She muttered. Eddie felt her body slowly melting against his. He threw his arm over her shoulder. His finger went under her chin and moved her head to face his.

Her eyes fluttered close as she relaxed into him. He leaned in and kissed her softly. She hummed at the softness of his lips, the way he took charge. His warm tongue slipped inside her mouth and she whimpered. Her hands eagerly gripped his shirt.

He might have been an older man that was a slob. But fuck...he knew how to turn her into a puddle.

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