#Dizzy's mood boards

[czargasm]

Guys @alittledizzy made a mood board for Every Mountain Tells A Story and IT IS BEAUTIFUL.

[sumire-bride]

(( "I hate you for what you did, and I miss you like a little kid." ))

(( Literally that lyric in motion sickness song is Sumire in DF, like girl grows to hate Kyuufu a bit but man does it kill her through out the entire route☠️ ))

[mabelstone]

Imagine Being Loved by Me

hozier x f! reader

part three of lullabies <3 | part two | masterlist

cw: 18+, nothing too serious but a bit teeeny bit of smut

word count: 3.2k

taglist: @princezty @somethinglikero @jimihendrixpopfigure

Three weeks have gone by since I walked in on Joe piledriving another woman in my bed.

Three weeks ago after a beautiful morning of jazz music, pancakes, and instant coffee, Andrew drove me back to my house to pick up my car. I sent him away with an earnest hug, putting on my bravest face as I let myself inside. No shit, there were rose petals on nearly every inch of floor board. I fought the urge to roll my eyes, instead, tiptoed upstairs into my room. Joe was asleep in bed, and I nearly tasted my breakfast for a second time that morning. Instantly, I felt nauseated, the type that makes you hot and dizzy and want to run away and never come back.

I pushed the feeling back down, determined to grab all my shit and forget this tainted cell of a house I once loved more than anything. Furiously, I began stuffing all of my clothes into a suitcase. Then in another bag, I took everything that belonged to me; sheets, towels, everything down to the last teabag. I was fuelled with rage, huffing and puffing my way around the house, lugging my bags out to my car. Oh, fuck. My keys.

Where are my car keys?

I searched the house like a mad woman, tearing apart the couches, looking in every cupboard and under every piece of furniture. Nothing. I called Andrew, asking if I'd had them at the bar, as if he'd know the answer if I didn't. "Ehm... just your house keys? I tink..."

"I tink you're no help," I mocked, hanging up with the briefest of smiles before I was playing detective again. I searched for nearly an hour before caving in and waking Joe.

I shook his shoulder roughly, standing back with my arms crossed once he finally stirred awake.

"Mmm..." He groaned, and I waited patiently with a scowl for him to realise it was me and not some broad off the street. "Oh, you're finally home."

"Where are my keys?" I deadpanned, fuse shorter than ever. I wasn't in the mood for the slightest conversation with him.

"I missed you so much, babe," he sighed, pulling my stiff body into a hug. I peeled myself away from him, repeating myself.

"Where are my keys, Joe? I left them in the fruit bowl, and now they are gone."

"Let's talk first before we make any hasty decisions," he coaxed, pulling me by my wrists onto the bed beside him. "I can't explain how sorry I am."

"Joe, please."

"I've been up all night crying, my heart is broken," he sighed emphatically, taking my hand into his. Oh, you're the heartbroken one? "I can't imagine a life without you."

"You weren't thinking that way when you were fucking the girl you met at my show."

"You hadn't had sex with me in weeks! I was getting desperate-"

"Just stop," I barked, throwing his hand off of me. "Give me my car keys so I can leave. This doesn't need to be any harder than you've already made it."

After minutes of brutally painful back and forth, he gave me the keys to his safe. I unlocked it to find my keys and an open jewellery box with a sparkling engagement ring. He was sitting on the bed, eyes filled with optimism, and I almost fell for it.

My phone buzzed and I saw a message from Andy.

You haven't crashed your car have you? X

I took my keys and closed the safe, turning on my heels out of the bedroom.

"Um, what the fuck?" Joe called out as he followed close behind me, roughly grabbing at my arm when I was halfway out the front door. "I just proposed to you, and you don't even have the decency to say no?"

"No," I replied, unlocking my car and tossing my bags into the boot.

"What? Babe, don't throw this away," he began to cry, clearly panicked.

"I haven't thrown anything away. You have." I shoved him away by his chest, just about ready to boil over with anger. "You have destroyed any shred of trust I had in you. It's over, Joe."

My tough act began to slip as my voice shook, climbing into my car and slamming the door shut before he could see how hard this really was on me. He screamed something inaudible at me as I drove away, and I watched him sob into his hands from the rearview mirror.

I cried the entire drive to my mums, ignoring the hundreds of calls I missed from him.

Andrew and I continued to spend time together. I spent many nights at my mums place while I tried to look for a house. I didn't have rental history as Joe wouldn't put me on the lease... because I didn't have rental history. "Babe, it'll just make everything harder," was once his excuse.

When my step dad would get unbearable, Andrew would invite me to spend the night. These nights would frequently begin with me sobbing about how broken hearted I was, and end with him and I snuggling on the couch to a movie. Innocent enough, sure. But after weeks of abstinence following six years of frequent sex, I was pent up. So pent up to the point where I would have to excuse myself for some time alone with his retractable shower head. Many of my thoughts of Andrew were so explicit, you'd think they were from the brain of a teenage boy who'd plough through two boxes of tissues a day. This of course left me feeling inexplicably guilty and beyond confused.

Tonight, we drank wine and sang cheesy duets together. We clumsily danced and laughed until we cried. He had the coordination of a newborn giraffe, and though I'd never admit it to him, I wasn't much better. He drunkenly rambled about how in a perfect world, he'd own a cottage in Wicklow and keep bees. I told him how I'd be a florist who sold my Irish friends' honey.

As if routine now, we'd share a blanket on the couch and watch a movie. Last night was Superbad, tonight was Inception. Andrew mindlessly carded his fingers through my hair, and with the comfort that brought me mixed with the wine, I was out to it within minutes.

His beard tickled the inside of my thigh as he continued to bite and suck at the sensitive skin, eyes boring holes into mine with a devilish grin.

"C'mon, Andy," I whined, throwing my head back in frustration. I closed my legs over his head, desperate to feel his mouth on me where I needed it viscerally.

"Patience, darlin'," he tsked at me, spreading my legs wide before him again. "Look so fuckin' gorgeous right now."

"Please, just touch me," I begged, reaching a new peak of arousal that was actually causing me pain. "Anything, just fucking touch me!"

He just chuckled, locking his arms around my thighs, pulling me closer to his face. He continued to place hot, wet opened mouthed kisses along my thighs, his beard scratching over my clit for a split second, and I swore I was on the brink of orgasm immediately. I grabbed a fistful of his hair, impatience taking full control of my autonomy.

He licked a languid stripe up my clit, causing me to let out a guttural moan, arching my back beneath him. He pushed me back down by my hips, one hand easily reaching my breast as he toyed with my nipple.

"Fuck, Andy," I cried, eyes screwing shut as every single nerve ending of mine came alive.

"Look at me," he ordered, the low rumble of his voice vibrating against my core. Without warning, my orgasm rippled through me, each nerve erupting like fireworks as I chanted his name.

I woke up panting, taking a moment to realise I was laying with Andrew on the couch. And processing the fact that I actually just orgasmed in my sleep.

"What's a'matter?" His voice was soft and concerned as he turned his head to face me.

"Weird dream," I laughed breathlessly, heart still pounding in my chest. This happened far too often. I almost wanted to spill my guts and confess everything he made me feel.

"Dreamin' of me, huh?" He grinned down at me, and I felt my cheeks burn.

A moment's silence.

"What?" Please tell me I wasn't moaning his name in my sleep.

"I'm jokin'," he laughed, averting his eyes back to the TV. "Unless you were."

I laughed along too, though in my head I was screaming. 'Unless you were,' what the fuck does that mean?

The credits rolled over the screen and like routine, we got off the couch and went to our separate rooms. Except this time, my heart didn't settle, and I didn't get much sleep.

We went about our days as usual, as if I didn’t fantasise about him every waking moment. I worried that I was catching feelings, and catching them far too fast for someone who'd only just gotten out of a 6 year relationship.

I couldn’t help it. I was infatuated. Infatuated was an understatement. I was completely and utterly enamoured by Andrew. I wanted to be in his presence every moment I could. I often told little white lies so I could spend the night, even though our we remained within a strictly friends only basis.

He was kinder than any man I’d ever met, insisting on having to open every door for me, sending me off to bed with a glass of water each night, and waking me with coffee just how I liked. He was gentle and tentative, always fast at identifying cues when I was upset.

But that’s all we were - just friends.

I began to crave his touch, desperate for any opportunity to feel his skin on mine. He’d often play me a new song he’d written, and I’d watch on with hearts for eyes as his skilled fingers worked his guitar effortlessly.

I saw it in his eyes too, sure he wanted me how I wanted him. I dreamt of climbing into his lap, kissing him until my lips were swollen or until he couldn’t take it anymore and we’d need to take off our clothes to satiate our desires.

But I couldn’t.

When it felt like we were moving in that direction, I’d turn ice cold. Though my heart was begging me to love him how he deserved, my brain knew this was probably just a rebound. And someone with a heart as golden as Andy's didn’t deserve the hell grief I’d cause him.

So I brushed off each pet name as if hearing them didn’t cause my stomach to do acrobats. I treated each night on the couch as if we were simply best friends who enjoyed each others' company. As though there was no other option than spooning on the couch where his scent became hardwired into my brain. I’d act as if I couldn’t feel his hard on pressing into the small of my back most nights. I’d pretend I’d have no idea what he was really doing when he’d have to excuse himself halfway through the movie to ‘make a call.’ It’s just how it worked for us.

And often, I wondered if it was torturing him as much as it was me.

We pulled up at the venue, Andrew of course opening my door for me, offering me his hand as I stepped out onto the kerb. I thanked him and we headed in together, turning a few heads as we did so. Not that this was unusual, he was 6’6” and painfully handsome, after all. He’d also given himself quite the name, rumours of a few producers attending tonight in hopes of setting him a deal.

“Remember me when you’re famous and touring the world without me,” I fake pouted, fluttering my eyelashes at him.

“Well obviously, nobody forgets their muse,” he bumped his shoulder into mine, that cheeky grin stretched across his face. “Besides, I owe you that much for giving me something to write about.”

I nearly choked on my drink, raising my eyebrows at him. “And what songs are written about me, hm?”

“The monster mash?” He kept a straight face, giving me that duh look at the same time.

“Oh, shut up, Andrew.” I laughed, acutely aware of the man who just sat beside me. “I’m being serious! It'd make me happy to know.”

“You’ll know when you hear ‘em, baby,” he grinned, throwing back his glass of champagne. Baby. My heart leapt from me, and in that moment I was grateful that he wouldn’t have noticed the deep blush splattered across my cheeks. He was too busy claiming another round of free drinks for us.

“Please tell me that’s your brother or something,” the man sat beside me spoke up, chocolate brown eyes so endearing, thick American accent on his lips.

"I sure hope not," I joked. His face fell, and I realise how that could've been misconstrued. "No- he's not my boyfriend either. We just sing together."

He put his hands together in prayer, looking up to the roof, mouthing, 'thank you, God.' I laughed at him, shaking my head. He had dark brown curls similar to Andy's, his were just more tame and much shorter. Full lips that twisted into a dopey smile, and if I weren't so confused with my emotions, I'd have jumped into a cab and gone home with him without a second thought. "I'm Will," he introduced himself, shaking my hand.

"Y/N," I blushed when he kissed my knuckles, wondering where the hell Andy had run off to. "Where are you from?" I attempted to avert the conversation, regaining ownership of my hand.

"Colorado," he smiled, signalling to the bartender that he wanted to order another round. "And you're a singer?"

"Uh... well I sing, yes," I giggled, the three prior glasses of bubbles gone to my head. "I wouldn't label myself a singer as such."

"Well aren't you just the cutest thing," he grinned, slipping his hand onto my thigh.

"I uh," I stammered, struggling to find the words. "That's very kind," my eyes searched the room for Andy. He towered over mostly everybody wherever we were, standing out like a sore thumb. But for some reason, he was nowhere to be found right when I needed him.

"I'm only in town for the night," he leaned in close to me, his breath hot in my ear, and his hand only getting warmer on my thigh. "Once you're done your little performance, why don't you come back to my hotel and give me an encore?"

Like the Gods had intervened, a familiar calloused hand was grabbing my arm. "C'mon, we gotta go backstage." I looked up to Andy, his expression rigid, bordering on disgust and anger.

"Oh, okay," I nodded, hopping up from my stool, Will's hand quickly retracted. "Uh, see you," I smiled awkwardly, Andrew's grip still around my arm.

"Here's your drink," he let me go, handing my glass to me.

"You saved me, Andy," I laughed, glancing back at the man who'd already moved onto his next victim. "Total wanker."

"Mhm," he hummed, not even looking at me as we made our way backstage.

"Everything alright?" I prodded, his expression unchanging. He didn't reply, instead opened the door to the green room for me. We weren't at our usual bar tonight. We'd been invited to perform at a decently size theatre that just so happened to be full of producers, offering free drinks for the performers. Maybe not the best combination.

The green room was alive with seven or so other musicians, all mingling amongst each other as they awaited their turns. There was a table lined with finger food, and a minibar with premixed drinks. Andrew had made a beeline straight for the snacks table. Typical.

"Um, hello?" I whisper shouted to him, trailing behind him like a lost puppy. "Is there a reason you're ignoring me? Is it because of that bloke? Because I-"

"Yes," was all he replied, taking his food to one of the couches with him.

"Okay," I was surprised with how forward he was, sitting down beside him, honestly perplexed by his rigidity. "...Why?"

"I didn't like the way he was talking to you," he shrugged, still avoiding my eye contact. "He was disrespectful."

"So... why are you icing me out, exactly?"

"I will say the wrong things, better to say nothin'."

This was unlike any way I'd seen him act before. Cold, annoyed... jealous? Surely not.

"Well, I'm sorry I- or he made you feel this way."

"Andrew Hozier-Byrne? You're on in two minutes," one of the stage hands announced, nursing his clipboard on his hip like a baby. "And we're still going ahead with the song change?"

Andy nodded, having a quick drink of water and tossing his rubbish away.

"Song change?" I questioned, following behind him. I made sure to watch every performance of his, even if it meant being amongst the audience when I wasn't also performing.

"Oh, yeah. When I went to get you a drink, I quickly changed my song. No biggie," he shrugged, tying his hair back into a bun, slipping his cap over the top. Jesus Christ, he looked fucking edible.

"What's the song?" I pressed further, still adamant despite the backstage timer ticking '30 seconds.'

"Haven't named it," he shrugged his guitar strap over his shoulders, giving me a wry smile. "It's about you, though."

I blushed deep, unable to form words. There was no space for talking anyway; he headed out onto the stage, leaving me dumbfounded as I watched on.

He awkwardly introduced himself, as he did each night.

And then followed my undoing.

I'd be the voice who urged Orpheus when her body was found.

I'd be the choiceless hope in grief that drove him underground.

I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee that made him turn around.

And I'd be the immediate forgiveness in Eurydice.

Imagine being loved by me.

Suddenly, there was not nearly enough air behind this curtain as I watched on, awestruck.

I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things I would do.

So I try to talk refined in fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you.

I'd be the last shred of truth lost in the myth of true love.

I'd be the sweet feeling of release mankind now dreams of.

That's found in the last witness before the wave hits, marvelling at God.

Before he feels alone one time and marries the sea.

Imagine being loved by me.

Fuck.

My knees felt weak, sure my ears were deceiving me. Imagine being loved by me. Oh, but I do.

Sure enough, producers from many labels were flagging him down from the minute his set finished, flooding the backstage where I was waiting for him.

I ended up having to go on straight after Andrew, thankfully. I couldn't think of any words to say, and the ones I could think of were highly inappropriate. Not that he would mind, clearly.

I hung around after my set, making eye contact with Andy here and there, waving him off when he looked like he might leave the conversations for me. I was happy for him. Ecstatic. And the craving for his touch only multiplied tenfold with his subtle admission that he felt the same.

tricked ya!! i am physically incapable of writing slow burn lol i hope u enjoy what i have for u in the next chapter xx it'll be very juicy (and hopefully longer)

i've also added a taglist as per a request, lmk if you wanna be added xo

[bidisasterevankinard]

Inspiration Saturday/Seven sentence Sunday

tagged by @spotsandsocks @cal-daisies-and-briars @honestlydarkprincess @tizniz @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @daffi-990 <3333 (I tag you back for 7ss)

mood board more from I want to dance with you where Buck and Tommy are still not even talked about going to the madney wedding together (But I'm close to it) (Buck and Tommy, it should have been T, stop making it M you horny little soft boys)

“C’mon, baby,” Buck whines, “I need to turn off the oven so that my hard work won't burn.”

With a pout, a sigh, and the last hard squeeze of his ass with a slap after, which sends Buck on fire, Tommy lets him go.

“I’ll set the table, then.”

Buck nods and turns away, but before he can go, Tommy turns him towards himself and kisses him so good that Buck's knees buckle and head go dizzy, and he would have fallen if it hadn't been for Tommy keeping his hands firmly on Buck's waist.

“And don’t worry, baby boy, I will take care of you, after the movie. How can I not when you look so good with my hoodie and my name on you?”

Buck swallows looking into the deep ocean of Tommy’s eyes, full of lust for him. He can’t wait for the movie to end.

tagging @wikiangela @diazsdimples @pirrusstuff @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @buckstommy @elvensorceress @ebdaydreamer @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbi-ckley @rainbow-nerdss @rogerzsteven @the-likesofus @theotherbuckley @transboybuckley @underwaterninja13 @pirrusstuff @saybiwithme @smilingbuckley @devirnis @dangerpronebuddie @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @honestlyeddie-im-bi @hoodie-buck @hippolotamus @jesuisici33 @ladydorian05 @bibuckbuckley @bigfootsmom @bekkachaos @neverevan @monsterrae1 @bewilderedbuckley @bi-buckrights @steadfastsaturnsrings and anyone who wants to

[rollinouttahere-writes]

helloo!! Can we please have dark chocolate number 13 with Ace pls \(//∇//)\ thank you!!♡♥︎♡♥︎╰(*´︶`*)╯🍫♡

Yandere Ace x GN!Reader

1.1k words

Prompt:

I’m so happy to have you here with me, I will never want anyone else. You have more of a hold on me than you’ll ever know.

It’s been a few hours since you’ve last seen Ace. An eternity in his book, barely a breath of fresh air in yours. During your precious alone time, you elected to stay in his cabin and tidy up the place. His tendency to just throw shit and leave it wherever it falls left the room in a chaotic state, and that got on your nerves given that this is where you spend almost every waking moment of your day.

Going out amongst the other people on the Moby Dick always left a bad taste in your mouth. They would give you pitying glances at best, but never lend a hand to help. They ultimately cared more about Ace’s well being than yours, and since your presence was directly tied to his mental state, your fate was sealed.

You never asked for any of this. No one wants to get dragged off onto a pirate ship because the captain of it got too attached. You had a glimmer of hope that you may be able to escape after the Spade Pirates were forcibly disbanded by the Whitebeard Pirates, but as already stated. They weren’t much help. At first they couldn’t even get close to you without Ace trying to kill them, but eventually he grew on them. Then they were helping keep you on board, lest he spirals. 

The relationship you had with Ace could be very draining. That fun, rambunctious side of him that had originally drawn you in was only a part of him. A front that he put on. In reality he was an intensely depressed individual that had become much more comfortable showing that side of himself to you.

In normal circumstances, this would be a heartwarming show of trust. Typically this would be a steady step in the right direction to build a healthy relationship, but nothing about your relationship was healthy. The exposure to his depressive episodes felt suffocating more than anything. While he would be sobbing into your chest and clinging to you for dear life, you would be forced to comfort your captor out of pure guilt from seeing him look so broken. You felt more like an emotional support animal than a human significant other some days.

Going back and forth between hating and pitying him was dizzying. Not to mention the bizarre form of codependent love that had been thrown into the mix. You never knew what direction your emotions towards him would go any given day, just like you never knew what kind of a mood Ace would be in.

It was exhausting. You felt like you needed a vacation to recuperate at the end of every day, but you of course never got one. So you would have to settle for the moment of peace you’ve been granted in this messy cabin.

The door is suddenly kicked open and you internally curse. Your quiet moment is done and over with now. You should have cherished it more.

Strong arms lock around your waist, heave you up, and spin you around. Ace seems to be in a good mood today, which is a plus. “(Y/N), I missed you!”

“It’s only been a couple of hours, you’re acting like it’s been months,” you muttered, more to yourself than him.

“What? A couple of hours is a long time, it felt like months.” He had mercifully stopped spinning and was looking around the room. “Where’d all my stuff go?”

You rolled your eyes, “All I did was stuff your dirty clothes into the hamper. Don’t know why you even have that thing seeing as you never use it.” It had a fine layer of dust that would gather over it in between your sporadic uses when you got fed up enough to clean.

“Not everything was dirty, most of those were still good!”

“It’s not “good” if you have to do like three sniff tests to determine that! Just wash that shit!” You were squirming to get out of his grasp, thoroughly irritated from bickering about you cleaning up his laundry.

Ace laughed and shrugged, “Maybe I’ll do it later.” Yeah right. He walked towards your shared, unmade bed and tossed you onto it before throwing himself on top of you. Oh. He’s feeling cuddly today. Great. Well, as long as he doesn’t start crying it won’t be so bad.

A kiss was placed against your cheek with enough force to squish your face, and then he unceremoniously flopped down, further squishing you into the mattress. Instead of using your chest as a pillow like he usually does, he nestled his face into your neck. His arms snaked underneath you to keep your bodies fully pressed together.

The man was a walking furnace, so you were already beginning to sweat. Such a thing didn’t bother him, but it was uncomfortable for you. Not that your discomfort was enough to deter him, you would be stuck in this position until he’d gotten his fill. This was far from the first time you’ve been subjected to this, so you knew what he wanted. One of your hands plucked his already partially dislodged hat from his head and tossed it aside so you could run your fingers through his messy hair, the other one rubbed slow circles on his back.

Ace hummed in contentment from your ministrations, and his body sagged more than it already had against your own. His hair was tangled, a common occurrence for anyone primarily living at sea. Your fingers worked meticulously to undo all of the knots. You weren’t particularly gentle with it, but he wasn’t flinching from every tug so you can’t imagine it was that harsh either.

For a while, nothing is said. Ace enjoys your company, while you feel obligated to acquiesce his wants and desires.

“I’m so happy to have you here with me, I will never want anyone else. You have more of a hold on me than you’ll ever know.” The words are spoken in a hushed whisper directly into your ear.

There it is again. That pesky, traitorous feeling of affection. The flutter of your heart from being so desperately wanted- needed even. Your impulsive inclination to comfort someone so clearly in need even though it’s absolutely not your job to do so. You wanted to “save” him almost as badly as you wanted to save yourself.

It made you question if he was the only one with serious psychological issues here. Have you always had this savior complex, or was it a recent development brought on by your living situation? 

This wasn’t something you wanted to think about today. You sighed and clutched Ace closer. Maybe it would be for the best if you just turned your brain off for a little while? Thinking too hard on your circumstances has never done you any good.

[myers-meadow]

Foolish Gratitude (Rolan x Tav)

Pairing: Rolan x Tav

Summary: After you saved Rolan from the shadow people, his mood worsens. It's up to you to make him feel better. AKA Rolan hatefucks you <3

Warnings: smut, 18 +, dub-con, penetration, (mild) spanking, degrading language, fem Tav (she/her and vulva used), submissive tav, no aftercare shown in the fic, no discussion of kinks or consent, Tav is into it though ^^.

Word count: 1767

This is my first ever foray into writing Rolan 💞✨, please be nice. Reblogs and comments are very appreciated (please feed my brainrot i beg). Proofread by the very kind @gauntermetaverse - thank you! Divider by saradika-graphics.

Rolan is taking his loss hard. After that drunk night, he turns mean - doubly so after you save him from the darkness the next day.

The Last Light Inn is pleasant tonight. There's some gossip, some small hopes and dreams shared at a table, and some tears. At least there is still warm soup, you think to yourself as you sit down at a small table with a bowl full. It warms you in just the way you need it to. The rest of your companions are around, resting, playing board games, reading. Lae'zel is armwrestling whomever dares. Gale is talking to Halsin about the nature of the shadow curse. A quiet evening. Your bowl is empty, and you stand to return it to the bar.

"There we have her; our beloved hero," It could've been Raphael if it wasn't for the cruel sarcasm dripping from his every word. Rolan. "Come to the inn to gloat? To rub it into my face how much better you are?"

He's not even that drunk, but his anger is something fierce. In the past, you were understanding, kind. The man has been going through a lot. But now... Even you are losing patience in the face of his barbed words.

"Rolan," You start, your tone soft, not wanting this to escalate. "I know you're-"

He cuts you off. "No, you don't know. But I have something better in mind."

He grabs you by the fabric over your shoulder - you're in your camp clothes, no armour to protect you here - and drags you past the bar. All the while, he's hissing things at you like a cat who had her pride hurt.

To avoid escalation, you follow him willingly. Then, the door of a small food supply closet shuts and the lock clicks shut. The key clatters against the ground as Rolan drops it over his shoulder.

"A hero who doesn't know her place, that won't do..." He muses as he stands over you. A cruel smile licks at the corners of his mouth. "How fortunate I've always been a good teacher."

His tone is startling. He doesn't even seem drunk. "Rolan, that’s-" 

He clamps a hand over your mouth. He's so close that you feel his breath on your cheek as he turns your head to the side. He breathes deep. "You think you can solve everything." The grip on your cheeks is hard enough to make you feel he's gonna leave a bruise.

Your muffled sounds go ignored. Rolan chuckles, and it sends a weird tingling sensation through your lower belly.

"You're gonna have to be quiet for this lesson," He says, and with a dizzying movement, he turns you to face the wall. A warm hand gropes at your ass, through the thin fabric of that cute skirt you found in a chest at Sharess' Caress. His nails dig in. How good it feels, startles you. None too gently, he bends you over - still keeping his hand over your mouth.

"You're nothing more than any other adventurer in this inn. Yet you think you're owed all this gratitude, all this praise..." His voice curls meanly at the end. "You need to learn. To really feel where you belong." 

In his groping, he moves your skirt up and tucks in the waistband so it stays. The first slap, hard, short, without warning, has you twist against his hold, and with a muffled shout to match.

Rolan tuts. "Now, hero, is that how you take a little spanking? I would've thought you could take more. This is a disappointment, really."

The second slap lands on your other asscheek, just as stinging as the first. The third deepens the sensation. You don't struggle out of his hold, instead, you lean into it. After the fourth, he soothes your sore bum with strokes of his hand. That's far from the end, though. A fifth, a sixth, the heat increases, the stinging takes longer to leave after each slap. Seventh, eight, and you lose count. His speed increases, and your shouts of pain turn to whimpers as he tires you out.

He seems barely out of breath as he speaks again. "And that is the hero against the Absolute. Pathetic. Look at you. Whimpering after just a few meager slaps." Another sharp one lands, your whiny moan of pain punctuating his words. You're not sure you're hearing it right through the ringing in your ear, but it almost sounds like he moaned.

His hand lets go of your face, instead he pushes two fingers in your mouth. "If you can barely take a spanking, I'm not sure how you'll take this, but you owe me more than some pain."

The nails dig into your tongue, but you wet his fingers a bit too eagerly. "You want to help others, right? To serve them. You'll call me 'master', understood?"

You nod, but it's not enough. He jerks your head to the side by the fingers now hooked in your cheek.

"Yes," you manage to get out.

"Yes, what?" he grits his teeth. Another slap on your ass that feels like it's on fire.

"Yes, master." After you said it, you sigh in something close to relief that comes from the depths of your chest.

"Good. Finally you're beginning to understand." He lets go of your face fully, leaving you to feel cold without his touch. He tugs at the straps of your underwear, and the sound of fabric shifting emphasises the tension in your body. There was no way Rolan could've known your submissive streak, he really just needs to get all this pent up frustration out - somehow his wordless confidence and the lack of care for whether you enjoy it or not turns you on more. It's a primal feeling, that only very few people can unlock from within you. Exhilarating.

Something nudges between your legs, and with a start, you realise it's his cock. Even though you'd hoped this is where it was headed, had pined for him night after night, experiencing the real thing was so much more raw and real than you ever envisioned. He presses inside with little care for your comfort. It surprises you how smooth it goes in, even with you already dripping wet, it's still quite the stretch. His groan of pleasure is the most sinful thing you've ever heard.

His lips are at your ear, his tone changed completely to before. "Aren't you just good and wet for me? Filthy little slut."

Finally, his cock hits home somewhere deep inside, and the drag as he moves out is even better. "Gods, I needed this."

You can tell how much he needed this by how he wraps his arms around you, pressing your back against his chest. His horn bumps into your cheek, as he bites your bare shoulder. As slow as he went before, he seems to lose all control and sets a messy pace, slipping out and forcing himself back in again and again. The sounds of your slick and skin slapping skin are disgusting.

"Perhaps you have some redeeming qualities yet," he says, his playful tone returning as he relaxes. His grip around your torso is crushingly tight and you try to reach down to touch your clit, whining as he won't let you. "Na-ah, your first lesson isn't even done yet, you naughty girl."

Rolan fucks you roughly, his horn keeps bumping into you but neither of you mind. Every time he thrusts in, it draws attention to your sore ass, its small edge of pain only heightens the pleasure. His groans and moans are delicious. You angle your hips to make him hit deeper and he delivers, with a bruising pace. 

“Who knew the hero would be such a good little slut? Fuck, you feel amazing.”

“Rolan,” you moan, pressing your lips against his cheek. 

As much as you imagined fucking him as intense, your fantasies are nothing compared to the real thing. You moan something high-pitched as he hits just right, dragging his tip back and forth against the most sensitive parts of you. The feeling builds quickly, even without being able to touch yourself, and your breath is catching as the pleasure of being filled transcends all. 

His thrusts stutter, and although it takes great effort, he pulls out, and whirls you around. Surprised, but altogether too overwhelmed to resist him. He tugs you down to your knees. Your core throbs, yearning for him, but it’s your lips that now enjoy the taste of him. He’s salty, and you taste your own wetness on his length as he pushes himself into your mouth. When you gag, he grabs a fistful of hair, and prevents you from leaning away. No choice but to take all of him as he pumps himself in and out. Drool drips from the corners of your mouth as you try your best to please him. His groans are delightfully filthy, heavy with all his pent up emotion. Your own desire makes you light-headed. As soon as your hand darts down to your core, Rolan slaps them away. 

“What did I say? No touching.” He’s just as stern as a school teacher. Your core throbs around nothing. He groans as he makes you gag, “The others should see you now, on your knees, doing so well to please your superior.”

His grip on your hair tightens to something uncomfortable. “This just shows what can become of the high and mighty hero - ah, fuck - who amounts to nothing good without proper guidance.”

His thrusts grow sloppy, yet deep, so deep, fuck you need him inside of you so bad - he moans and pulls out. Ropes of cum land on your face, some on your tongue, or across your chest. You twitch as several flecks get in your lashes. Rolan looks so proud, smiling down on you like this, so pleased. A sense of satisfaction swells in your chest, even as you still tingle with ghosts of his touch, longing to be sated. 

Rolan bites his lip. “Such a good hero, really willing to go the extra mile for those in need…” He considers you for a moment, tracing a finger over your face. “I’m sure this is the best reward you’ve ever gotten, dear hero.” 

You’re not sure whether the curl of his lip is playful or contemptuous. After collecting enough cum on his finger, he presses it to your lips, for you to clean off for him. 

Despite, or because, of his mean expression, you say just what he wants you to say: “Thank you, master.”

[ggwritesstuff]

At Your Service

pairing: single dad!austin butler x fem!babysitter!reader

warnings: FILTH. SMUT. minors get lost. references to reader being petite i guess? breeding kink, spanking, sexually frustrated austin, dom austin, a splash of size kink, etc. reader calls aus Mr. Butler and i explode prob missing some. read at yalls own risk.

a/n: i’ve been working on this for weeks in between all my school work and i’m very proud of it. shoutout to @headfullofpresley for the title and the lovely mood board!! and for the rest of my hog cult girlies for your support and encouragement <3

tags: @eliseinmemphis @headfullofpresley @aconflagrationofmyown @woundmetender @foreverdolly @babylovepresley @purejasmine

It was only about ten o’clock when you heard the rustling of keys against the front door. You weren’t expecting Austin to be home so soon, but the exhausted sigh he let out as he kicked his shoes off at the front door told you that tonight was just another one of his unfruitful dates. His keys clattered against the marble countertop in the kitchen, you left your spot on the couch to check in with him.

“Hey, Mr. Butler,” You started. His back was turned to you as he scanned the fridge for a beer, popping the cap off with his ring and carelessly discarding it in the sink. “How was your night?” You asked meekly. He’d been going out on these dates a lot lately and you could see he was growing tired of the routine.

“I’m home at ten p.m. on a Saturday night. That’s how it went.” He huffed after taking a swig from the bottle.

“Oh.” You almost whispered. “Um, the kids have been asleep for the last hour or so. They had dinner and we got through bath time without a fuss.” You told him, trying to change the subject.

Austin pried his gaze from the beer bottle, his eyes were now fixated on you. The kitchen lights were off, but the moonlight seeping in through the window behind him illuminated his figure. You’d never noticed how beautiful his eyes were until this moment; arctic blue irises sparkled, nearly piercing you to the center of your being. “Thanks, hon.” He said. Your cheeks began to burn as his gaze never waivered.

Austin seemed like he was in a haze for a moment until he realized you were probably standing there in front of him, waiting to get paid. He frantically patted himself down and panic flashed in his eyes when he realized he didn’t have his wallet on him. “Dammit!” He nearly yelled as a heavy fist landed on the countertop. “I-I must’ve forgotten my wallet at the restaurant.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I can stop by tomorrow or something.” You assured him. He sighs again.

You realized that dating must’ve been hard for him. Once these girls hear he’s a single father of two and a young divorcee, it seems like they’re just running for the hills. Especially the girls he goes after. Most of them are around your age; freshly 21 and ready to take on the world. They didn’t want to become a stepmother. Not yet, at least.

“Sir, are you okay? I mean, is there anything I can do to help?” You asked hesitantly, slowly walking towards the counter.

Austin let a bitter scoff leave him. Silence lingered in the air for a moment as his head rested in his palms. “Unless you know anyone who’d let me use them ‘til they’re stupid, I don’t think so.”

For reasons you’ll probably have to ask a therapist about, his words made you dizzy. “You can use me, if you want.” The words came hushed, you couldn’t believe you actually said them.

You’d have to be a blind fool to ignore how beautiful Austin was. He was damn near irresistible with those gorgeous blues. Throw his soft, blonde locs and those perfectly pink lips in the mix and he’s just good enough to eat.

He set the beer on the counter and straightened himself out, a hint of a smirk played on his lips. “Darling, as much as I appreciate the offer, you’re too damn little to take the beating I have to hand out right now. Wouldn’t wanna break you.” His comment on your size made a warmth swell between your legs, you chewed on the inside of your lip as he stared you down like a predator stalks its prey.

“Don’t think I haven’t thought of it, though. I have. A lot, actually.” Austin began to ramble a bit. “Sometimes I think I’m fumbling these dates on purpose. I’ve got a pretty young thing back at home that would probably beg me to touch her, use her how I want.” He rounded the counter to make his way over to you. He towered over you, “I just don’t think she can take it.” Austin slipped a finger under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him.

“I can take it, Mr. Butler.” You said shyly, unsure of whether you were being truthful or not. He was so close to you now, you could smell the beer on his breath.

Austin took your hand into his, he marveled at just how small it felt in his hand. Your legs almost gave out when he guided your hand down to his pants and pressed your palm to his length, “Y’sure, hon? I’m not like those boys you’re used to. I just don’t know if you’d be able to handle it.” His tone almost sounded mocking.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intimidated by his size just from palming him through his slacks, but you were already in too deep. “I’m sure. Just wanna help you. Want you to use me.” You were shocked by the words coming out of your mouth, and Austin seemed to be too. He quirked an eyebrow when he heard the last bit of your sentence and his jaw dropped a bit in surprise.

Suddenly, you had whiplash. Austin pushed you against the wall before he smashed his lips onto yours. The taste of beer lingered on his tongue and the smell of his cologne invaded your nostrils. He had one hand cradling your face, and his fingers were so long that you could feel them in your hair. It took you a moment to shake the surprise before you eventually melted into the kiss. You felt his hips grind into you slightly, and your legs nearly gave out again. Your senses were entirely overwhelmed, flooded with him.

He broke the kiss for a brief moment. “Arms around my neck.” He mumbled against your lips before connecting with them again. When you didn’t comply, he pulled away again. “I said, arms around my neck.” It finally registered that he was asking you to do something and you quickly scrambled to do so. Austin bent down a bit to grab your legs and once he picked you up, you almost instinctively wrapped them around his waist. He carted you off upstairs with such ease before he sat down on the edge of the bed, keeping you sat in his lap. The kiss resumed with the same depth of desire, and the way you were straddling his lap allowed you to really feel how hard he was. How massive he was. A shiver ran down your spine at the feeling of him pressed against you.

You kept your arms wrapped firmly around his neck for stability when he pulled his hands away to start unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it to the floor once he finally got it off. His skin was soft and warm as your hands wandered around his back, feeling the firmness of his muscles. You felt him pawing at the hem of your shirt, telling you to move your arms so he could tear it off.

Now bare chested, Austin yanked you flush against him. His chest kept your breasts trapped against him as his hands fell to your hips, using them to grind you down onto his still clothed length. The fabric of his pants caught your panties in a way that made a soft moan tumble from your lips. “Gotta keep quiet, baby, don’t wanna wake the kids.” He scolded, you simply nodded, biting down on your lip as the friction against your clit was already intensifying. Your pleasure was rudely interrupted when he flipped you onto your back and he stood upright, undoing his belt and shedding his pants. Your eyes widened at the sight of the tip of his cock just barely peeking out of the waistband of his boxers, red and leaking with precum. Austin chuckled at your reaction as he looked down at you sprawled on top of his mattress, “God, you really are a little bit of a thing, aren’t you? Never been with a girl so small. Gonna have to open you up a bit.”

In one swift movement, Austin pulled your skirt and panties off and discarded them to the floor. His hand trailed down your thigh until he reached your core, letting a slender finger swipe through your wet folds. “Really want me to use you, huh?” He questioned just before slipping two fingers into your tight, weeping pussy. You bit your lip so hard you swore you drew blood, trying to choke back a moan as your walls fluttered around his long fingers. Austin laughed, “So fuckin’ tight, god damn. Never thought the girl who takes such good care of my kids was such a slut.” He emphasized his last word, slut, with a curl of his fingers, brushing against your g-spot.

“Fuck, Mr. Butler, feels good.” You whimpered softly, staying conscious of the fact that the kids were asleep down the hall. Austin’s eyes darkened in an instant at his title. Mr. Butler. It sounded so pretty coming from your mouth, the pace at which he was pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy quickly increased. “You want me to use you? You think you’re stretched out enough to take me? Still feelin’ real tight around my fingers, baby.”

“I can take it, Mr. Butler, promise. Use me, please, want you to use me, Sir.” You babbled, overwhelmed with pleasure already.

Austin pulled his hand away despite the way your walls clamped around him in protest. He rid himself of his boxers and your heart thumped in your chest at the sight of his length. He grabbed you by the ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed, perfectly aligning the tip of his cock with your entrance. You spread your legs a little further to allow him in your space. Calves wrapped tightly around his waist, his head nudged you open and he began to sink inch by euphoric inch into you with a string of swears about how tight you were.

“Ho-fuck, I knew you’d be tight, darlin’. God, you feel like fucking heaven.” Austin grunted as he finally started to thrust into you, still moving slowly at first. “Been thinkin’ about this since I hired you. Seeing you with the kids just makes me wanna take you all for myself, split you open on my cock like a good little slut.”

His thrusts picked up in speed, you bit into his shoulder to keep your moans at bay as your nails anchored into his skin. Somehow, Austin was still forming coherent sentences. “Taking me so good, baby. You on the pill?” He asked, his face buried in the crook of your neck. With a nod, you affirmed that you were and he groaned loudly at your response, the frequency sent a vibration through you and you shivered at the feeling, “Ngh, fuck- wish you weren’t. You’d look so pretty all round with my kid.” All you could do was mewl in response. You could barely comprehend what he was saying with the way his cock was slamming into you with such a delicious force.

Austin’s gaze shifted from your face down to your abdomen and his jaw dropped at the sight. He had to stop himself from cumming right then and there as he saw his cock in your belly with each thrust. “Oh, fuck, look at that, baby.” He drawled, placing your hand over your stomach. “Feel that?” He grunted, thrusting harder, if that was even possible. Your eyes rolled back when you felt him through your stomach. “You’re doin’ so good for me. Taking me so well in this pretty little pussy. Feels so good, baby, I might just have to ruin it for everyone else but me. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya?”

“Aus-, Mr. Butler…” was all you could choke out. He surrounded you entirely, all of your senses were on fire just for him. Austin abruptly pulled out and stepped back for a moment, catching his breath just enough to speak.

“On your hands and knees, you’re getting too loud.” He ordered. “What, are you so cockdumb that you can’t hear me? I said, on your hands and knees. Don’t make me tell you again.” Austin seethed once you didn’t respond to his command.

You were grounded just enough to form a snappy response, “That is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Austin nodded slightly as he bit his lip, a sharp exhale sounded through his nose. He was caught off guard by your sudden attitude, maybe even a little pissed off.

Perhaps it was because he hadn’t been presented with anything he wanted in a long, long time. A hardworking man such as himself could rarely accept anything if he hadn’t earned it. He didn’t expect your off hand comment to incite such a strange feeling within him. All he knew was that he needed to assert himself as the strong, dominant man he is. He needed to show you that he earns his keep.

“Alright,” he said quietly, turning to his dresser and opening the top drawer. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but it sure wasn’t a fucking paddle. “You wanna be a brat? I’ll treat you like a brat then.” He sat on the edge of the bed, roughly pulling you over his thigh and flipping you on your stomach effortlessly.

You were caught off guard by the first slap of the paddle and you couldn’t stop the yelp that escaped you as the searing pain radiated throughout your entire ass cheek.

“Count.” Austin demanded. Your blood was pumping so hard that it muffled your hearing, you didn’t even realize what he said until his fingers threaded themselves into your hair and harshly pulled on it, yanking your head up and looking him in the eye. “I told you to count.” He gritted through clenched teeth, accentuating his frustration with another tug at your hair when he said his last word.

“One.”

“Awh, she knows how to listen.” He cooed mockingly before delivering another smack.

“T-two.”

He placed the paddle down to use his hand to smooth against your ass, grinning to himself when he felt how hot they already were. “Still wanna be a brat, honey? I could do this all night. You look so pretty bent over my knee like this.” Austin kneaded one of your cheeks in his hand as he spoke, providing a sliver of relief before landing another smack to it, now using his hand.

“Three.” You whimpered. You felt his cock twitch against your abdomen when he saw that his hand left a mark that covered your entire cheek. You were so tiny to him, and he was certainly taking advantage of that.

Austin landed several more hits to your ass, your cheeks were tear stained and your thighs were slick by the time he decided he’d punished you enough. As if to say “truce”, he leaned down to press a kiss to the heated, stinging skin of your ass as he massaged the other cheek with his hand. “You gonna behave now?” He whispered against your skin.

“Mhm, yes, Mr. Butler, ‘m sorry.” You whimpered into the now mussed bed sheet, the fabric muffling the sound.

“Good. Hands and knees now, princess.” Austin directed, giving you one last pat on your ass to encourage you up. You gathered all the strength you possibly could and lifted yourself to your knees, leaning down on your elbows. What resembled a growl sounded from behind you as Austin drank in the view. He’s never had such a pretty, young pussy; he couldn’t get enough.

Not of the way it felt sucking his fingers in so greedily. Not of the way it glistened with the blend of your arousal and his. Especially not of the way you felt so tight and warm, wrapped up around his cock like you wanted to keep him there forever. He doesn’t think he’d be able to resist if you asked.

You winced in pain when his hand came into contact with your recently abused ass, but your focus shifted once you felt him slipping back into you from behind. He slowly sank himself inside you until he bottomed out, allowing you to fully feel the stretch. God, it burned like hell. But if this is what hell felt like, you’d spend the rest of your days as a sinner. He filled you so effortlessly, the sensation had you burying your face into his pillow to muffle your moans. You felt him lean over you as you hid your ecstasy, he pressed a kiss between your shoulders, “There’s that good girl,” he muttered against your skin. “I know, it feels so good that you just have to cry out like that. ��S alright, baby, just muffle those pretty moans into the pillow.”

Slowly at first, Austin thrusted into you, letting you feel every inch and every vein; relishing in the way that your walls would constrict around him with every stroke of your g-spot. As muffled as they may be, he still listened closely to all the precious sounds you were making. He let them engulf him wholly. It was like the most beautiful symphony he’d ever heard; every strangled moan of his title, Mr. Butler, beckoned him closer and closer to his breaking point. Unbeknownst to you, he was still holding back. His subconscious mind knew you were small and fragile, likely easily breakable. But his restraint was fading and it was becoming evident as his thrusts picked up in speed, grabbing you by the waist tightly.

Months of pent up sexual frustration were bursting at the seams. You let Austin take what he needed from you. That’s how you found yourself face down, ass up in his bed in the first place.

He finally began putting some truth behind his thoughts spoken in desperation. Austin finally allowed himself to use you. It was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. From this angle, he was hitting spots you didn’t know existed. You didn’t even think it was possible to feel so good.

Until he hooked a toned arm around your waist, hoisting you up on your knees. You could feel his heart pounding against your back as he held you to his chest, mercilessly rutting into you. A cry of pleasure threatened to escape and you frantically tried to release Austin’s grip on your throat to bring it up to cover your mouth. “Such a good girl, stayin’ quiet for me.” He grunted between thrusts once he realized what you were trying to do, peppering the shell of your ear with kisses as he snaked a rough and calloused hand down to rub circles around your swollen clit.

Before you could even realize, your orgasm was quickly approaching. Austin actually realized it before you did and leaned in to whisper against your skin. “You close, princess? I can feel it, squeezin’ me so tight. Go ‘head and cum for me.” He punctuated his command by nipping at the skin in the nape of your neck. The warmth of his breath fanning against you was all it took for you to come undone.

You were sure you looked pathetic; frantically grabbing at Austin’s arm for purchase and barely able to keep yourself upright, all while muffling your cries of ecstasy into his hand. He wasn’t far behind you, his thrusts became more urgent; nearly insatiable until he buried his cock deep inside you one last time. With an obscene groan that you felt vibrate against your back, Austin filled you with his cum. His cock twitched, triggering a flutter of your walls that incited a moan from behind you.

Your chests heaved in time as he came down from his high. His forehead rested on your shoulder while he recovered, placing a few featherlight kisses to your back every now and then as he kept you full of him.

Austin wrapped an arm around your waist to settle you back on all fours on the bed before pulling out. A shiver ran down your spine and you whimpered as his cum quickly poured out of you, he watched as it flowed and chewed at his lower lip. He was entranced by the sight; his sweet babysitter laid all fucked out on his bed, leaking his cum.

“You alright, honey?” He checked once he could form the words. The way you simply nodded into the mattress made him laugh. “C’mon. Let’s wash up.”

Austin led you to the shower where he gently cleaned you of the sweat, spit and cum.

“Feel better now?” You joked as he rinsed you off.

Austin nodded with a gentle smile and brushed a damp strand of your hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek to hold you to his chest. “Thank you, dear. You have no idea how bad I needed that.”

“Happy to help, sir.”

And you were.

Anything to help Mr. Butler.

[thoseboysinblue]

I Kissed Someone New Last Night

Christian Pulisic x reader

You visit your best friend, Christian, in Milan after a break up.

Word count: 4150+

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, mentions of weight loss, mentions of death of parents

Song Inspo: Kelsea Ballerini's Penthouse (Healed Version)

Requested: No

"Come to Milan" he pleads with you through the phone, "I'm worried about you, y/n."

"Christian, you know I can't do that," you frown at him.

"Please," he says quietly, "you've lost too much weight, you're not taking care of yourself, and no offense but you kind of look like shit," he tries to lighten the mood just a bit.

The truth is, there is nothing stopping you from hopping on the next flight to see your best friend and both of you know it. You broke off your engagement a few months ago, after finding out your fiancé was cheating on you. You also recently quit your job because no matter how hard you tried you always were bumping into him and you desperately needed a fresh start.

You had considered moving to Florida to be closer to Christian's family, the only real support system you had left. And even though he was far away, Christian never failed to be there for you through every heartbreak you had endured in your short life.

The night your mom died when the two of you were in high school, he dropped everything to be by your side, staying with you through all of it, holding you when you cried, staying strong for you when you completely fell apart.

He flew home as soon as he heard the news of your father's passing a few years later, and again, he was your rock. As everything in your life seemed to crash down, he was the constant, steady presence.

His family had welcomed you with open arms, including you in their holidays, family vacations, and trips to visit Christian and watch him play. They always made sure you felt like you had a place to call home. In recent years, you had opted to go to Christian for holidays so that he wouldn't have to spend them alone, the two of you setting about creating your own traditions. That was until your ex came along and you felt like you should spend holidays with him, but it broke your heart knowing Christian was spending them alone again.

Christian never really liked your ex, he couldn't put his finger on exactly why, but something about him made his guard go up. And it broke his heart when he found out he was right all along, maybe if he had said something he could have spared you the heartbreak, but you seemed happy and he wasn't going to interfere if that was truly the case.

"Come see me, I'll take care of you, I'll feed you pasta and let you get drunk on Italian wine. We can see the city together, I haven't gotten to do much exploring yet. It will be good for you to get away, take a break, get some fresh air, come on y/n, please?" he continues to plead with you.

"Ok" you whisper and you see his face light up, immediately grabbing his laptop and searching for flights before you have a chance to change your mind.

"How soon can you leave, looks like I can get you on a flight tonight, or tomorrow," he grins into the phone.

"Christian, you don't have to do that, I'll book something," you roll your eyes at him. He never failed to be generous and take care of you, whatever you needed, you didn't even have to ask most of the time.

"Nope. Not happening. Tonight or tomorrow, y/n? You better give me an answer or I'm closing h my eyes and clicking on whatever I land on," he chuckles.

"Fuck it, tonight," you grin at him, the first genuine smile he's seen from you in as long as he can remember.

You have to admit that the thought of landing in Italy tomorrow morning to spend however long you wanted with Christian makes you a little dizzy.

"Ok, pack your bags sweetheart, I'm sending you your boarding pass now," he smiles at you, "fuck I'm so excited to see you, it's been ages since we've gotten to spend time together."

"Christian, I just saw you this summer in Florida," you chuckle at him.

"Yeah, but that was less than 24 hours and you had the dickhead with you so it doesn't really count," he huffs at you.

"Christian this boarding pass says seat 4C, you did not just book me a first class ticket did you, you jackass."

"I sure did, because I can, and because I wanted to, and because there wasn't much left on the flight anyways. Now, get off the phone and start packing. Call me when you leave for the airport. Love you, y/n."

"Love you too, Chris." you shake your head at him before you hang up.

A few hours later, you have taken care of anything that might need your attention in the next few weeks since you were unsure of exactly when you would be back. You had packed and showered, and were set to leave for the airport. Making one final check that you had everything you needed, you call Christian, who answers sleepily, "I'm headed to the airport," you smile, even though he can't see you. "Ok, I'll see you in the morning," he says through a yawn, "safe travels."

"Thank you for this" you whisper but you can hear him snoring through the phone so you quietly end the call, after whispering another "love you."

You phone dings when you turn it off of airplane mode and you look down to see a message from Christian.

Christian: ciao bella 🤌🏻 there will be a car waiting for you to take you to my apartment. I'll be in training when you land, but should be home when you get there. Can't wait to see you 🫶🏻 Love you.

Y/N: oh god, am I going to be subjected to your attempts at learning Italian?

Y/N: thank you for the flight and arranging the car. I'll meet you at home. I can't wait to see you either. Love you, Chris 🫶🏻

Christian: do not insult my Italian, y/n. On my way home now, see you there 😍

When you arrive, he is waiting outside for you, pulling you into a warm embrace. It feels like he might crush you, but being in his arms heals your soul just a tiny bit.

"You've bulked up," you chuckle, your head resting against his chest. "You're skin and bones" he whispers leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

"Come on" he says retrieving your bags from the car and thanking the driver, waving off your attempts to help carry your things.

He leads you inside his new apartment, sitting your bags just inside the door before intertwining his fingers with yours, "let me show you around," he smiles at you adoringly.

He leads you from room to room, letting you know his plans for each of the ones that aren't quiet fully furnished yet. He grabs your bags as you follow him up the stairs opening the door to what you presume is his bedroom.

"Christian, this is gorgeous," you say taking in the room, the view out of his window to die for.

"It is," he smiles, never taking his eyes off of you.

You and Christian always share a bed when you are together so you aren't sure why it makes you slightly nervous to think about staying with him now, but it does. Your stomach flips as he moves your bag into the walk in closet, sitting your toiletry bag on the bathroom counter.

"Are you tired?" he whispers tucking a loose strand of hair around your ear and settling his hand on you jaw, smiling a the way you lean into him and shake your head, your eyes already a little brighter.

"Hungry?" he grins when you nod.

"You feel up to going somewhere, or do you want me to cook here, or we can order in?"

"We can go out, but can I have a few minutes to freshen up? You know I always feel gross after a long flight."

"Of course," he smiles, leading you into the bathroom, grabbing a towel for you and turning on the shower.

"Thank you," you whisper, wrapping your arms around his waist, "for everything," a couple of tears slip from your eyes which you try to hide from him but he definitely notices.

"Always, y/n" he breathes out, kissing you on the forehead.

After your shower, you wrap yourself in a towel, walking into Christian's room so that you can grab some clothes out of your suitcase. Christian is sitting on the bed when you walk out of the bathroom and his heart sinks when he realizes just how thin you've gotten. He knows it's just from the stress, and that you tend to lose weight when you are dealing with heavy emotions, and that you always return to your normal with a little TLC, usually from him.

He doesn't say anything, he knows he doesn't have to, you can read perfectly well the look of concern on his face.

"I'll be fine, Christian," you whisper as he nods.

"I know you will be now," he offers you a weak smile, but the look of concern is still evident.

You quickly get dressed, noticing that Christian has already unpacked your things and placed them on the empty shelves in his closet, your heart fluttering at the kind gesture.

"Come here" he gestures, patting the empty space on the bed beside him.

You waste no time in climbing over him and tucking yourself into his side, your head resting on his chest as he scratches your back.

"You know I'm here for anything you need, right? Forever." he speaks quietly.

You nod, allowing the familiar sound of his heart and his scent to wash over you. You never feel more cared for than you do when you are wrapped in Christian's arms, his warm embrace always soothing you, no matter what is going on in your life.

"You sure you don't want a nap," he asks quietly, a small yawn escaping his lips.

"We can nap if you are tired, Chris," you whisper.

"That's not what I asked," he chuckles.

Your stomach rumbles loudly and he kisses you on the top of the head, "food first, then naps."

He takes you to a small restaurant close to his apartment, filling you with as much pasta as you can hold before you make the short walk back to his place.

Once you arrive back at Christian's, he closes the room darkening shades in his living room and the two of you settle down on the couch to watch a movie.

Before long, you fall asleep wrapped up in Christian's arms and he does the same. You aren't sure how long you've slept when you stir slightly, waking Christian up.

"You ok?" he whispers into the dark, a sigh escaping his lips when you nod and nuzzle your face into his chest. You let out a giggle when his stomach rumbles, "you can't be hungry again, Chris."

"I'm starving, actually" he chuckles when you move slightly allowing him to stand up and pull you to your feet. He makes the two of you a sandwich, both of you eating before heading up to get changed for bed.

You wander out of the en-suite bathroom in Christian's room after finishing your skincare to find Christian sitting in the bed, already under the covers.

You give him a hesitant look, chewing on your bottom lip, "you sure you want me to stay in here, I could stay in the guest room or..." you trail off as he stands up and makes his way over to you wrapping you in a hug.

"Why wouldn't you stay in here, we've been sharing a bed since we were kids, y/n," he says quietly his hand stroking your back.

"I don't know," you whisper, "I just wasn't sure you wanted me in here."

"Of course I do," he says taking your hand and guiding you towards the bed, "but only if you want to be in here. I can definitely get you set up in the guest room if you would feel more comfortable."

"No, this is fine," you offer him a smile, your moment of anxiety passing.

"You know, I think my parents always thought we were up to something when we kept sharing a bed when we got older," he chuckles, "led to me getting the talk from my dad on more than one occasion."

"No, really?" you groan, your cheeks painted with embarrassment as you try to hide your face with your hands.

"Mmmhmmm" he laughs pulling your hands from your face, "I think they were worried that we might figure out that one of us is a boy and the other is a girl when we were younger, but as we got older, I think there were secretly rooting for it."

"I figured they would eventually put a stop to it, but I guess they trusted you far more than the trusted me," he grins.

"Guess we've disappointed them then," you chuckle tucking yourself into his side as he kisses the top of your head.

"Sleep well, y/n, wake me if you need anything," he whispers as he turns off the lights leaving the two of you wrapped up in nothing but the darkness and each other's arms.

The next several days in Milan Christian works to improve your mood as much as he can, enjoying when he catches flickers of you returning to your normal self.

You wake up early with him, enjoying quiet mornings before he has to leave for training. He even asks if he can bring you along for a few sessions giving you a chance to catch up with his old Chelsea teammates. You spend afternoons wandering the city and learning Italian with him. Evenings, which he knows you typically dread, are spent, snuggled up together watching movies or binge watching some of your favorite series.

Being constantly surrounded by Christian's presence is working wonders for you, you can feel yourself healing from everything you've been through the past few months. During a face time with Christian's mom she mentions that she can tell both of you are in a better place mentally and physically and that she's glad you are getting to spend some time together.

You cannot deny how much you enjoy being with him, here in a safe bubble, seemingly protected from the outside world. And Christian, he's enjoying your company more and more each day. Things are seamless and comfortable between the two of you, conversations are easy, and the silences are never awkward.

He has been thrilled to have you with him as he embarks on a new season with Milan. You've been able to travel to away games with him and we're blown away on your first trip to the San Siro.

One particularly warm evening after a match, you walk out of the bathroom in a pair of pajamas that show far more skin than any others you've worn around him. You pretend not to notice the way his breath hitches in his throat when he sees you and the way his eyes follow you as you slip into bed next to him.

"You ok?" you whisper, resting your head on his chest noticing the way his heart is hammering away.

"Couldn't be better," he sighs, trailing his hands over the exposed skin on your back and shoulders noticing when your skin erupts in goosebumps, a reaction he's not used to from you.

"I've got the next couple of days off, I thought we might take a little trip to Lake Como tomorrow, have some lunch, see the area," he says quietly, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"That sounds nice," you whisper, turning to place a kiss to his chest.

"And I have a surprise for you tomorrow night," he smiles as you turn to look him in the eyes, resting your chin on his chest.

"You know I hate surprises," you grin, a glint of playfulness in your eyes.

"I know, but this is a good one, and you're not getting it out of me," he grins back at you, tickling your sides and making you squeal.

"Now, let's get some sleep, we have an early morning tomorrow," he says, reaching to turn off the light and gesturing for you to turn on your side so that he can be the big spoon.

"Good night y/n," he whispers, "love you," as he places a feather light kiss on your shoulder, so light you almost don't notice it.

"Good night, Chris, love you too." You whisper back to him, intertwining your fingers with his.

The next morning, you both wake up early and have a quick breakfast before leaving for the day's adventure. Lake Como is more beautiful than you could imagine and you share a lunch that borderlines on romantic at a small cafe that overlooks the lake.

"I can't believe we are here," you nudge him with your shoulder as you walk down a small path towards the waters edge.

"I'm sure you could sweep some lucky girl off of her feet here," you chuckle at him noticing the way his cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

"Probably, but that's not what today is about is it," he rolls his eyes at you, "today is about me and you spending time together, not me scoping out potential date spots."

"I know, but what better place to fall in love than Italy, Christian," you say, twirling yourself around in front of him, missing the absolutely smitten look on his face.

"Maybe," he shrugs his shoulders, his eyes never leaving you.

"Are you going to tell me what this surprise is?" you ask him, looping your arm through his and resting your head on his shoulder. Noticing the way his skin reacts to your fingers tracing over his skin.

You like Kelsea Ballerini right?" he asks, as he rests his head on the top of yours as you both of you stare out over the water at the colorful houses dotting the horizon.

"I do, her new album is practically an anthem for my life right now, why?" you breathe out, shuddering as his arm wraps around your waist and pulls you closer to him.

"She's playing at the stadium tonight, and I might have gotten tickets for us," he says lowly, tilting his head up so that he can look you in the eyes and see your reaction.

"Playing at the stadium, as in your stadium? In Milan?" you nearly squeal, turning to fully face him as he nods.

"Thank you," your voice comes out low, barely above a whisper as tears well in your eyes, "for this, and for everything, you've always been the one person I could count on no matter what, and I honestly don't know what I would do without you."

You press a gentle kiss to his cheek, lingering a bit longer than normal as you notice him swallow dryly.

Leaning back slightly, you take in his features, suddenly mesmerized by his beauty. You've always known Christian was attractive, that much was obvious to you, but Italy has done him a world of good. His summer tan has lingered a bit longer, freckles dancing over his skin, and his eyes seem a bit brighter and more full of hope than you've seen them in a while. You catch your gaze lingering over his lips, noticing how soft and plump they are and wondering what they might feel like pressed against your own.

Christian has been your best friend for as long as you can remember, there isn't a single core memory of yours that doesn't involve him, being here with him the past couple of weeks, his patience, support and attentiveness have healed parts of you you didn't know needed healing.

Part of you never thought it was possible to develop feelings for him beyond friendship, and yet, when he's looking at you the way he is at this very moment, it makes you wonder if there couldn't be something more there.

"You're staring," he whispers, enjoying the flood of color that rushes to your cheeks.

"Am I not allowed to stare at my best friend? You're kind of beautiful you know?" you say, your eyes never leaving his.

"You're the beautiful one," he whispers, leaning down and glancing at your lips, almost as if he's thinking of kissing them before kissing the tip of your nose.

You turn, facing the horizon again as his arms squeeze your waist. "I love it here," you breathe out, feeling him nod as he rests his chin on your shoulder, but you aren't quite sure if by "here" you mean your actual location, or if you mean in Christian's arms.

"We should go," he gives you a gentle squeeze and slides his hand into yours.

The car ride home is quiet, he can tell you're lost in your own thoughts and he'd give anything to know what you are thinking about as you stare out of the window. Truthfully, he's a bit lost in his on thoughts as well, trying to come to terms with everything he's been feeling over the last few days.

Back at his apartment, you start getting ready for the concert, Christian ordering dinner for the two of you to eat as you get ready. You pick out a flowy dress, something that accentuates your best features, wanting to look pretty for yourself, and you catch yourself thinking that you also want to look pretty for him. You want him to be proud to have you with him, not that he's ever made you feel otherwise.

Once you are finally ready to go, you walk out of his bathroom about the same time as he walks out of his closet, also dressed and ready to go. You both silently stare at each other, soaking one another in before his lips curl slightly at the edges as he makes his way over to you.

"You look beautiful as always," he smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek, dangerously close to the corner of your mouth.

"So do you," you blush slightly at his compliment as he takes your hand and leads you to the car waiting to pick you up.

The concert is amazing, Christian never leaves your side, and most of the night he has one or both arms wrapped around your waist.

As the first notes of "Penthouse" ring out around the stadium he moves so that he is standing behind you, both arms around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder as he gently sways with you to the music.

Tears well in your eyes at the words that seem so very personal to you, a few spill over as Christian grips onto your hips turns you around. He brings his hands up to cup your face as he brushes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs as the music fades out.

You're staring at each other, both of you knowing exactly what is coming next, as she belts out the healed version of "I kissed someone new last night, and now I don't care where your sleeping baby," Christian presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is soft and slow, and without a moment's hesitation you grip your fingertips into his t-shirt as you melt into the kiss; his lips slotting perfectly against yours, just as you had imagined they would. Suddenly, it feels like all of the pieces have fallen into place.

He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours, "I love you, y/n" he says quietly, only loud enough for you to hear. A couple of tears fall from your eyes, as you nod and say "I love you too, Christian."

"No, baby, I need you to understand what I'm saying. I'm in love with you, I am desperately in love with you," he says as he bumps his nose against yours.

"I know, and I'm in love with you too," you grin, a squeal escaping your lips as he picks you up and spins you around.

"Stay in Italy with me, I can't bare for you to leave me," he says as he pulls you closer to him, burying his face into your neck, "we can both start over here, and we can start building a life together," he says hesitantly, searching your features for an answer he is hoping will be yes.

You nod and he crashes his lips back to yours in a much heavier yet still reserved kiss considering you are in public.

"So you're staying," he mumbles against your lips.

"I'm staying" you grin, "until you're sick of me."

"That's never going to happen sweetheart," he smiles sweetly, "never."

Tag list:

@chelseagirl98 @neverinadream @masonspulisic @pulisicsgirl @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @lunamelona @tall-tanned-tattoo @lizzypotter14

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Love you the way you are

requested by @ladymidnights-blog I was wondering if you'd write an Azriel x reader where she comes back from a mission and was hurt and bleeding, but she's really good at hiding it and brushing it off, but Azriel finds out and it's all fluffy and soft. I'm in such a mood for soft azriel to be honest.

warnings: fighting, injuries, cuts, blood, stitches

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You loved the thrill of it. The rush of adrenaline, the dizziness it gave you. It wasn't just about serving your high lord or keeping your court safe. Even if that was your main duty. It's like all of this was in your blood. Ran through your veins. Was part of your existence. After all, that's all you did for as long as you could remember.

You were quite a rebel. Caused Rhys heaps of trouble through the years, even though the high lord was good friends with your father. Some things just couldn't be pushed under the rug, and even his high rank didn't allow it to be swept aside. So after being sent to a private boarding school and almost sending it down in flames, your father was ready to give up on you until Rhys made a proposal that he wanted you to work for him.

You didn't expect that. A part of you was sure that this was a nicely coated way of saying that Rhys was going to put you in the dungeons and potentially behead you for all that you had done. But no, the same things that the High Lord had written in the letter, were told to you when you arrived at the night court. Serve me; he told you; be my cruelest weapon, eyes, and ears in places that no one could reach. Oddly enough, he saw a potential fighter's soul inside of you. A good soul maybe lost and a little bit damaged, but a good soul is, most importantly, one that needs a loving home and people it can trust.

And it was all glitter and sparkles until Azriel got informed that he was going to get a mission buddy. That was Rhysand provided him with his right hand. His commander, a person with whom he was supposed to share his work. And to say that the shadow singer wasn't happy once this information was delivered would have been an understatement. But seeing him kick and fight to get you off the court, or at least off of his hands, only increased your excitement.

You, however, didn't care for friends, didn't care for gatherings or dinners, that all of the inner circle had together. You sat at the table alongside them only if it was delivered as an order, never if it was just a suggestion. At best, you observe them from afar. A dull corner, a crack in the doorway, from the side of the upstairs stairwell. Cold and unapproachable. That's how you wanted it to be seen. The fewer weaknesses, the better.

That was all until one night, after turning and tossing in your bed for hours, you decided to use the time that was being wasted by trying to fall asleep to train. As quiet as a shadow, you made your way out, anticipating the empty and quiet training ring. But there was already a figure swirling there. Azriel. You've never seen anyone move in the way that he did. The way he fought. The way he held a dagger. The way his shadow swirled around him. Everything he did, every move he made, seemed to have an edge to it. Azriel wasn't just talented; he was perfect.

"Came to get your ass beat?", the sound of his voice pulled you out of your train of thought, and you blinked quickly. Yet you only shrugged, "No, just had a feeling you might want to get your ass beat." Walking swiftly past him, you picked up a dagger before turning the spymaster's way.

"Care for a little fight?", but Azriel only laughed, "I don't do catfights, gorgeous", you narrowed your eyes at him not only because of the nickname but also because during all the time you had spent here you have fought both Rhys and Cassian, all of the girls, but never Azriel. It didn't matter what you did, what you said, or what strings you pulled—you could never get him to finally give in. "You know, the more you back away, the more I think that you're just petrified that I would indeed beat you. Your ego is that fragile?", Azriel picked up his shirt that was tossed to the ground before wiping his sweaty face with it. "I'm more concerned about your ego," he said, but you just shook your head. Fine, let it be Mr. Untouchable, you thought to yourself. 

You weren't going to waste your time. "Leaving already?", yet you only roll your eyes at him before continuing to walk off. You walked until Azrie spoke again, "I'm impressed with your work, Y/N. Keep it up, and you might just end up on my good list." You were glad you had your back to him because the sudden flush on your cheek was embarrassing. You'd never blushed like that before. At least males had never made you blush like that. They disgusted you, at least the majority of them.

And that was another thing that frightened you—the way Azriel broke through your shield, through all the walls you've built. That's how the next few months were. You went on missions together or separately. You brought in reports, organized some of his old papers, attended meetings and bit by bit you found yourself growing attached to him. There was no more bumping into each other in the middle of the night accidentally. You both purposely made time at night to train together.

And you found yourself walking alongside him, laughing, without even realizing it. Agreeing to sit through dinner with his family. Occasionally leaning into him when the wine hit your head too hard. Letting him tackle you to the ground so you could feel his warmth on your skin. Silently, and still very cautiously, that flame of attraction inside of you sparked up.

However, things got particularly sour in court not long after. The Illyrian camps started to cause more and more trouble. Missions to the camps were the only ones that you weren't allowed to attend. If Rhys didn't stress about it enough, Azriel sure did. No, it wasn't just that you shouldn't go. You were forbidden from ever putting a foot there. And you didn't fight that; after all, they were the ones who knew the flows of the camps.

Yet their absence left you to deal with everything else. Strange thefts started to appear in Velaris, and with accusations and threats that were being left regarding Rhys, things had gotten much more serious.

When the order to deal with it came, you weren't surprised. Strapping daggers to all parts of your body, you wrapped a cloak around yourself and vanished into the night. The smart move would've been letting someone know, but the boys were busy with the camps and the girls were out for the night at Rita's. So neither had time for additional interactions.

You lurked in the shadows for some time, waiting for the stranger to appear. And he did show up; however, he wasn't alone. There were at least five of them fully armed. You should've just turned away and left them be because even if you trusted your fighting skills. Taking down five males twice your size wasn't a very likely scenario. But you were feeling feisty tonight, so you leaped forward, whipping your sword in one of the male's ways.

The fight was fairly brutal, and to your advantage, three of the males fled. Leaving you to deal with only two of them. Swords, daggers, punches, kicks, nails—you name it. "You bitch!", one of them cursed as your nails dug into his eyes after he tried to pin you down against the wall. You let out a bitter laugh and said, "Say that again. I liked it."

You knocked one of them down with a kick to the head. Yet in your rather distracted state, you didn't catch the other male running at you with a sword in his hand. You dodged the blow, but it still cut through your side, making you growl, but with adrenaline in your body, that only made you more vicious, and in no time he was on the ground as well.

You were walking up from the dungeons when the boys winnowed back into the house, still talking among themselves. They didn't even notice you, and you hope it would stay like that. "Y/N?", Rhys said, making you turn to the three of them. The hood was still on your head, covering your bruised face. However, if your dark clothes hid the color of the blood that soaked your body, your hands were a clear indicator of what you'd been up to tonight.

"Dealt with the thieves. There were at least five of them. I managed to bring two to the dungeons for Azriel's interrogations. The other three ran away. But don't worry, I'll go back to the city tomorrow and find them," your words were calculated and almost robotic as you spoke them. You knew the scolding was going to come next, so without giving it a chance to appear, you turned around, forgetting that your left side had a cut running all across, causing you to whine under your breath.

Someone pulled your hood down from the back before turning your back to the three batboys that stood in the living room with crossed arms as they glared at you. "I told you to check it out. Not to try and get yourself killed",  Rhys said as he walked closer. "I did what had to be done at the moment," you snapped back, ready to turn away again, but it was Azriel who was standing by your side, gently gripping your forearms.

"You're bleeding," but you didn't meet his eyes. You didn't dare to, so you just mumbled, "Not mine and that", you pointed to your lip before cracking a smile, "It's not considered bleeding". But it's as if Azriel had an intuition. A feeling. Something inside of him told him where exactly your injuries were, and his hand came into contact with the left side of your body before he pressed his palm there. Hand turning a deep shade of red from the blood, you were still losing. You let out a roar from the pain that shot through your body, nails digging into the shadow singer's arms. Azriel only tilted his head to the side before giving you one of his looks that usually had a man running away.

"Get a healer, Rhys," Azriel said, taking one look at his brother before moving to gently scoop you up in his arms. "I don't need a healer. I don't have vital injuries", "What you don't have is the right to talk back", you wanted to snarl some more at him but you just shut your mouth. For the first time since you came back, you started to feel lightheaded. Potentially the adrenaline left your body and the blood loss that you carelessly ignored, finally was catching up with you.

The spymaster quickly carried you to his room, hoping and praying to the gods he believed that his brother would return in no time with proper help. Azriel patched soldiers up in camps. But you weren't just a soldier, and from the lack of color in your face, the blood loss was his worst enemy now.

"I'm going to cut open your shirt so I could get close to the wound", not a single muscle in your body flinched as Azriel ripped the material that had already stuck to your skin, "You sure it's not just your inner fantasies to see me naked", you waited for him to banter back but his face only darkened as he pulled out a clean shirt to press to the open cut. It was slowly healing; he couldn't deny that, but for some reason, Azriel's worries didn't ease.

"So, when will the shouting start?", Azriel only clenched his jaw and said, "It won't start. I'm worried, not mad." Even if his voice suggested otherwise, his eyes spoke the truth. He was still pressing the scrunched-up material to the cut, trying to stop the bleeding, which for some reason didn't want to ease up. "It frustrates me that you're so careless", "Come on, this is nothing, Az."

But the male let out a bitter chuckle before shaking his head, "Yeah, you bleeding out on my bed might be nothing to you, but it's not nothing to me", his voice was much lower now, more weary and concerned. "I'll get you new sheets", "I don't give a fuck about the sheets dammit, I want you... I need you to be okay." This was the first time you met his eyes, which looked frantic and scared. You noticed his trembling hands and the way his breathing was shallow. He was worried sick. The male, who barely showed emotion, was slowly falling apart in front of you.

You moved your bloody hand to rest on top of his before giving it a light squeeze just as the doors opened and Madja rushed in. The verdict that you needed stitches was brought up after one look that the healer took at the cut. You protested. You could hide the pain. You could handle the sting of a tonic but not the pain of stitches. Just the thought of the needle being pierced through your skin...

But Madja was already moving you to the side, and your eyes filled with tears. Yet not even a second later, you felt the bed dip. Azriel placed your head on his lap before taking both of your hands into his and said, "Take a deep breath in; Rhys will take the pain away", your teary eyes looked up at the spymaster, and he leaned closer, pressing a kiss on top of your head. Azriel was there from the first poke of the needle to the antibacterial tonic that was being rubbed onto the cut. Holding you up so Madja could wrap your middle up with a badge and making sure you were comfortable between the fresh sheets.

He was lying on the side of the bed next to you as you looked at each other. Even if you knew that you needed to sleep, you couldn't bring yourself to close your eyes when Azriel was this close to you. "Try to get some sleep," he said, still clutching your hand, "Thank you for looking after me," a smile crept onto his face.

"Even if you didn't have to," Azriel gaped at you once again before moving to run a hand through your hair. "You're awfully stubborn, you know?", you tried to laugh, but it only came out as a whine, yet you smirked anyways, "Well, what will you do about it?", your eyes didn't leave Azriel's even for a moment, "I guess I'll just have to love you the way you are."

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

All acotar writing taglist: @brekkershadowsinger @cityofidek

[jksprincess10]

hi there, sending this in an ask as you instructed!

new transfer to bogota and javier recognizes the reader from around his hometown. maybe a bit of fluff, reader remembers him but teases him that she doesn't, ends in smutty goodness?

whatever you come up with will be amazing, i'm sure

Hiiii! Loved writing this! Thank you so much for your request! Excited to hear your feedback.

Summary: Welcoming new hires wasn’t always like this. But after Escobar’s empire shattered, the embassy employees were more in a party mood. Due to the success of the operation, the embassy of the USA in Bogota hired more DEAs. In the flood of the new faces, there was a familiar one for Javi.

CW:alcohol, friends with benefits, face sitting, pussy drunk javi, squirting, jerking off.

➳ Masterlist

➳Send me a request

Javier was still preoccupied with work, staring at all the pieces falling together on his board when Steve Murphy burst in his office.

“C’mon man, let’s go. You were more fun before.”

“Fuck off, Murphy.” He said between his teeth, lips still barely holding on to his usual lit cigarette.

“I heard there are new hot girls…”  His partner shrugged, and he was out the door.

Fuck. He knew how to get his attention.

The Texan grabbed his leather coat and followed meters behind, Steve hiding a sly smile in front of him.

**

Nervousness filled your gut. You wouldn’t think you’d be thrown in the arms of a party on your first day as the newly transferred DEA agent. But here you were, standing in the middle of a busy bar, feeling totally out of place, feeling dizzy with all the noise around you.

You got a drink, hoping the alcohol would loosen up your nervousness. Your glass came up to your lipstick-covered mouth, as a familiar figure appeared beside you.

“Didn’t think you’d be transferred here after all those years.”

You turned your head to smile innocently at him, like you didn’t recognize his warm voice.

“I’m sorry? I think you’re getting me mixed up with someone else.”

He crushed his cigarette in an ashtray laying on the bar, thick eyebrow curved in a confused look on his face. Of course you’d recognize Javier Peña. You just wanted to fuck with him. Or fuck him. Who knows.

“I guess I didn’t satisfy you enough to be remembered.” He shrugged it off.

Your smile widened, and you took another sip of your glass.

“Hmmm… I remember now. Javier Peña? Sorry, might have fucked too many people in-between. You probably know the struggle.”

Javier smirked, clearly understanding your game now. He asked for a glass of whiskey and sat beside you. You finally did the same, turning your upper body to him.

He had barely aged. He still dressed the same as in college, but the mustache was new.

“You still with that asshole? What was his name… hmmm… Chris? No. Darren?”

“Yeah Darren. Didn’t last long after college. Still single… This job makes everyone run away, doesn’t it?”

The man nodded in sympathy.

“Well, to old times. Salud!” He said as he tipped his glass towards you.

“Salud!”

Another man you didn’t know, blonde, white, sat beside Javier.

“Told you there would be hot ladies.” He addressed to Javi, like you weren’t even there.

“Oh yeah, but I know her. Went to college together.” Javi shrugged.

“So I can’t be hot if you know me, hm? You didn’t complain back then when I was sucking your cock, asshole.” You said as you downed your drink and asked for another one. Just to find the courage to make a move on Javier.

Steve playfully punched his partner’s shoulder.

“I like her already!” He exclaimed.

**

The silly game of cat and mouse between you and Peña didn’t last long. When people started to leave, you took your cue and Javier offered you a ride to make sure you’d “make it home safe”.

While he was driving, your hand teased his thigh through his tight jeans. You leaned in and whispered to his ear:

“You know… we might have to go to your place. I’m not fully moved in yet. What do you think?”

“Missed me that much, hm?”

You went back to your seat with a flirty smile on your lips.

“You could say that.”

**

You had barely made it past Javier’s door and took off your shoes when he pulled you towards him by the waist, the familiar warmth of his big hands sending shivers through your body. His face met yours, warm-golden eyes melting your brain. You grabbed his cheeks to pull his face closer, kissing him eagerly. You both found familiarness of each other’s lips, moving together in pure harmony.

You used to be friends with benefits, you knew this man’s mouth like the back of your hand.

But the mustache tickling your face was new.

Your nails trailed down his cheeks to the slight squareness of his jaw while you deepened the kiss. It seemed like the game of cat and mouse was still on when you were fighting for dominance. Javi won eventually when he guided you through his apartment and pushed you on his bed, his body on top of yours.

You let go of his lips to regain your breath, and your thumb brushed over his neatly trimmed mustache.

“This is new. I like it.”

“Yeah?” He wiggled his brows in a suggestive manner, making you chuckle.

“Let me see if the rest still looks good…” Your fingers pushed away his heavy leather coat and hastily undid his shirt, revealing skin that got tanner over time.

His shirt silently fell to the ground, and Javi didn’t waste any time discarding you of your blouse.

“Your boobs got bigger.” He said, grabbing your breasts, brown eyes looking curiously at your barely-covered skin.

“Oh shut up, like you’d remember.”

In one clean movement, he got rid of your skirt and panties. Two of his fingers trailed down your pubic bone, slowly, while your lips latched onto his. When your noses hit, you got an idea. You rolled over him and pressed his body down the mattress, feeling the curve of his erect cock on your thigh.

“I wanna sit on your face” You breathed desperately against his lips that were stained pink from your lipstick.

“Fuck. Yes. Burry me in that sweet pussy of yours.”

Your “new” but familiar colleague pulled on your waist to bring your hips on level with his face. You fingers curled against the headboard while Javi grabbed your thighs to push you down. The tip of his nose brushed against your clit and you squirmed with a whine.

“Again.” You demanded.

You heard him laugh, but you stopped caring about his teasing when he swiped his nose confidently between your folds, caressing your sensitive bud of pleasure.

“God. I missed fucking that nose.” You bluntly said between unretained moans.

“Hmmm.” Was all you could hear from Javi.

His tongue sneaked between your folds to find your wet hole, and you completely lost it. He kept swiping his nose against your clit, teasing you from every angle. Your hands grabbed harder at the headboard while you had you first orgasm.

You gladly wet his mustache, and he pulled you down a bit, so you’d lay fully on his mouth and not on his nose.

“Can’t breathe, Peña?” You said between laborious breaths.

“As much as I’d like to die suffocated by this sweet pussy…” He rasped against your wet skin, making you shiver. His tongue replaced his nose, putting pressure on your already sensitive clit. He traced almost painful circles, while you find your high once more.

“Fuck. Javi. Let me touch you…” He held you by the small of your back while his other hand got to work undoing his pants, not stopping his pressure on your cunt whatsoever.

You leaned your back fully into his hand, while you reached behind you to grab his naked cock. You jerked him off messily while he was still swiping his tongue against your clit in a painfully slow motion. You felt him growing harder under your hand, and you went faster, motivating him to do the same.

It was too much. The overwhelming sensation in your belly, the familiar feeling before you squirted. You almost let go of him while your thighs shook on each side of his perfect face, your juices sliding down his chin. He drank all he could eagerly. Finally, he let you go to breathe a little.

“Could cum only like this, your pussy’s fucking perfect. God.”

You smirked and looked down at him, while you stroked him to let him meet his end. The DEA agent traced lazy circles on your heat while he enjoyed your rapid movements against his hard cock.

You stopped only when you felt warm liquid between your fingers. You let your body fall beside his on his bed, falling in the arms of your sweet after-sex haze.

When you turned your head to look at him, you could still see your juices glistening on his nose, plush lips and chin. He took a few breaths, cleaned himself up, then he rolled over to cradle your hips. The expression on his face suggested another round, and you couldn’t tell him no after all this time away from him.

[boysbellyrubs]

Harry's Illness

I'm deep into assignments and the looming exam season, but here is this fic. Bit short, but sweet :)

---

A sick feeling rested in the centre of Harry’s stomach. It gurgled and growled like a swamp, making him hyper aware of everyone else in the room at the moment. He turned to face the white board, staring at the interconnecting strings and photos of their latest case. They had been working on it for more than a week with absolutely no leads, no suspects, and one detective coming down with a gnarly stomach bug. Harry felt his back twitch as a cramp squeezed his middle, more fiery noises coming from inside. 

The board provided no cover for the noise, but it did allow him to subtly push on his bloated middle, desperately trying to get it to shut up. 

“Hey, Lawrence, does staring blankly help or are you going to help?” One of the other detectives spoke behind him, tense words spitting out of his lips. He couldn’t remember his name for the life of him. 

He turned then, fixing his gaze on the man shuffling through some papers. “Sorry, just not in the mood to look through 500 prison records.” The man scoffed at him but turned back to his work. Harry looked out of the squad room door, watching as Jack approached with a fresh mug of coffee. 

“It’s 6pm.” Harry said lightly. 

Jack shrugged, gulping down a mouthful. “I’m useless if I get tired, these two know.” Jack had worked with the other detectives, but Harry hadn’t met them until that morning. So far, he was only partial to liking Detective Watson. 

“Zombie Woods not making an appearance?” She said, smiling as Jack came to steal a few papers from her. 

He huffed, “Not today. Found anything useful?” He directed the question at Harry, and that was the moment where his stomach decided to announce its distress the loudest. He physically felt his cheeks pale and his knees buckle, the cramp ripping right through him. “Jesus. Hungry?” Jack continued, eyes glued to Harry’s stomach. 

The other shook his head, moving back to the board. He opted to just ignore it along with the wobbly edges to his vision and nausea crawling up to his chest. He felt the others give him looks behind his back, but he couldn’t care less. It was important for him to not fuck this up, he couldn’t destroy his first big case around his older coworkers. Especially in front of Mr Prison Records. God, what was his name? 

“Anyway, I got word from one of my possible witnesses that she usually saw our guy doing his service around the shopping mall near the City Centre. Probably some other witnesses around there.” Jack said to Watson. She responded quietly, or Harry just lost the ability to hear. 

All he heard was the oncoming tidal wave of nausea that was rapidly approaching his throat. He swallowed thickly, an uncomfortable grimace on his face. His stomach was aching and cramping like no other, echoey gurgles bubbling up and out. He knew if he didn’t get out of here quickly he was going to puke all over the floor, ruining the carpet and his reputation. Harry felt himself gulp again, spit gathering faster than he could manage.

Without any warning, he left the room at lightning speed. He walked on unsteady ground, feeling seconds away from tripping, as he made his way to the bathroom. It was the longest walk of his life. 

Bursting into the room, he bolted to the nearest stall and doubled over. Hot, thick vomit poured out of his mouth, the gurgling now residing at the base of his throat. It hurt terribly, both his stomach and his throat. Harry stabilised himself on the wall, palm flat against the plastic, and groaned through a dizzy spell. He felt the urge to vomit again and quickly dropped to his knees, bracing his hands on his legs. The next round was watery but burned worse and it made his eyes squeeze shut. 

Harry groaned, rubbing a useless hand over his tumultuous upper belly. The cramping powered through his touch. “Fuck..” He mumbled, then spat out bile and saliva. The smell was vile. It filled his nostrils and sparked another hearty gag, causing him to cough and choke as nothing came up. With his eyes closed, he fumbled around for the toilet paper, quickly gathering some up to wipe up the mess on his face. The unexpected force had caused tears to leak from his eyes and his nose to run. 

He was a pitiful sight, especially kneeling on the dirty ground. Harry flushed the toilet. He couldn’t take the smell anymore. He just sat down on his butt, leaning against the door as he tried to calm himself. His stomach felt like it was never going to settle. Harry imagined his breakfast and lunch fist fighting inside the organ, swimming around in his stomach acid. The image made him gag. 

Going back into the squad room was going to be a disaster. He didn’t even know if he would be able to pull off being healthy, not with the way his hair stuck to his forehead and his shaky breath and hands, they would immediately suspect something was wrong. Not to mention the disastrous stomach gurgle that everyone had heard. He was done for. 

As if further agreeing with his point, his stomach fired up again. A strong cramp hit his middle alongside another sickly grumble. “Ooh, god.” He moaned, sitting up to lean over the toilet again. Harry wrapped his arms around himself, letting his mouth hang open as saliva dribbled out, jaw aching. Food splashed against his oesophagus and he was vomiting once again. It made his back curl. 

He continued to spew up his insides for the next ten minutes, occasionally interrupted by a random officer asking if he was okay. It was humiliating. Harry breathed deeply through his nose, eyes closed and head resting back on the door. His hands were slowly rubbing along his belly, desperately soothing it and forcing it to stay down. So far, it was actually working. Harry had always been one for physical touch when it came to sickness, so a little belly rub was doing him wonders. 

But, he needed to get up. He was starting to shiver and his ass was hurting from being on the ground for so long. Jack and the others were probably wondering where he was anyway, if they hadn’t already left. Picking himself up was more difficult than he anticipated. His fever was raging, making him dizzy with every movement. 

As he pushed open the door, Jack’s face was the first thing he saw. 

“There you are. You look like shit,” He really needed to work on his bluntness. “Are you sick?” He pushed himself off the wall, arms folded as he peered into Harry’s glossy eyes. 

Harry knew he shouldn’t lie. “Um.” Good job. 

“I see,” Jack nodded, laughing a little, “Right, let’s get you home, rookie. Stomach bug? Think there’s one going around.” He put his hand on Harry’s burning shoulder, steering him back down towards the main room. He didn’t give Jack an answer, embarrassment overtaking his rational mind. 

They walked past the squad room, Harry glancing inside. Watson and the asshole were still in there but they looked off task. 

“They’re really useless. I’m going to miss you over the next week.” Jack spoke quietly into Harry’s ear. His words made Harry feel slightly better. 

“Sorry.” 

They approached their desks, Jack collecting up both of their things. He handed Harry his jacket, waving his car keys up to his face. “I’ll drive. And, don’t say sorry, can’t help getting sick. Just wish it wasn’t right now.” He chuckled a little to soften his words. It was a long walk to Jack’s car, but Harry was grateful to finally sit down somewhere soft. His stomach had begun to hurt while they were walking, so he sank down a bit and held his middle. 

Jack fumbled around in the back for a bit, then got into the driver's seat while chucking a plastic bag onto Harry’s lap. “Use that if you need to be sick.” The car engine revved, Jack immediately pulling out of the spot. Harry was grateful for his partner knowing exactly what he needed. Perks of being detectives. 

Harry kept his eyes closed as the streetlights flashed by. The movement mixed with the flashing was creating a nasty storm of nausea and sickness in his belly. It was a battle, but Harry managed to not puke at all on the way home. 

“Do you need help getting inside?” Jack said, expression blank. 

“Why are you so good at this?” His fever-addled mind made him speak the first thing that came to mind. 

Jack laughed at him, “Younger siblings. Do you need help?” He pushed. 

With his head and stomach spinning the way it was, Harry did. He nodded slightly, unbuckling his seatbelt to plant his feet onto the footpath. Jack’s hand held his forearm, gently pulling him up to standing. 

The entire walk to the door, Jack had his hand strongly planted on Harry’s back, guiding him. Jack probably didn’t realise how much Harry appreciated it, something as simple as a hand pushing him forward calmed his sick mind. 

Being inside was luxury. Harry instantly collapsed onto his couch, hugging the bag to his middle. Jack stood a little awkwardly in the living room after turning on some lights. His eyes wandered around the decorations and eventually he walked over to draw the curtains shut. 

“Okay, you think you’ll be alright? I can come around tomorrow with your car and some supplies.” Jack’s voice gave away his concern. Harry felt himself smiling at the fact that Jack was letting his walls down around him a bit more. 

“Yup.” He spoke quietly, exhaustion now his leading symptom. The room fell silent. Harry could feel his muscles unwinding, his stomach finally letting him rest and he shut his eyes. 

Jack’s footsteps walked away. They stopped. “Get some rest, kid. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

[the-guilty-writer]

Sleepless Seattle

Request from anon: hotch x reader who has insomnia? maybe with;  “Look me in the eyes and tell me what time you went to bed last night.  Or if you went to bed, for that matter.”

Aaron Hotchner x platonic!reader

Summary: When you can't sleep, you work, and a certain Unit Chief notices you've been working a little too much.

A/N: cheesy title, I know, but it works and it makes sense so we're going with it.

CW: reader has mild depression, talks about medication, medication changes, medication side effects

---

There were certain things in life that could be deemed necessary evils- taxes, politicians, and medication changes just to name a few. Currently the latter was kicking you in the ass.

Your depression was mild enough that it didn’t disturb your daily life until it did- you’d be okay for a while and then spend weeks on end just going through the motions, alive but not truly living. Medication helped significantly, to the point that you could go a few years without falling into the darkness, but sometimes they would slowly stop working. It would start with feeling more fatigued than normal and escalate to feelings of emptiness.

And then you’d have to go through a dreaded medication change.

You’d once heard that psychiatric medications were a crap shoot- the doctor would prescribe something and hope it would work, and when it didn’t they would try something else. That cycle would repeat until they found a drug that did it's job. You were lucky enough that you’d been able to take the same medication for nearly three years before it started to lose its effect, but now that it had stopped working, you were thrown into the chaos of trial and error in an attempt to find some new drug that would help stabilize your mood.

You’d been on this new one for about two months, and so far it was better than the last one you had tried, but it still wasn’t ideal. When you first started it, the dizziness hit you like a truck for a few days. After it subsided it hadn’t come back. Now the only side effects you were experiencing were a mild change in appetite and some pretty terrible insomnia.

You could fall asleep, but after about two hours you’d wake up and be unable to get any more shut-eye for a few hours. It seemed pointless to waste waking hours staring at the ceiling trying to fall asleep when you knew you weren’t going to- so you worked. The hotel you were staying at was right across the street from the Seattle field office, so you packed up your files and walked the short distance in the dark. It was the third night you had done this, so the night security guard just gave you a smile and a nod as you entered the building.

The evidence board was nearly full. You studied it carefully, picking apart every detail of every scene, jotting things down on a blank white board, but you still couldn’t get anywhere. As much as you hated to admit it, the team would probably have to wait for another victim to turn up in order to complete the profile. Still, you kept working. Rain pounded on the roof and clouds blocked out the sun, which is how you ended up losing track of time. Before you knew it, you were on your fourth cup of coffee and the rest of the team was arriving at the office.

“Watch out, Reid,” Morgan joked as he entered the room. “(Y/L/N) is trying to outdo you on the amount of coffee they can drink during this case.” He threw away your several empty styrofoam cups for you.

“How long have you been here?” Hotch asked you as he sat down at the table, ready to review the same evidence again and hoping he would notice something new.

“A couple hours,” you downplayed. “I’m going to get more coffee. Anyone need a refill?”

The murmur of “No thank you” and “I’m good, thanks” answered you as the team got to work and you left to go to the coffee station. You hadn’t even noticed your boss had followed you until you had set up the machine to brew.

“(Y/L/N),” Hotch started. “Is everything alright?”

You replied casually. “Yeah, this case is just making me antsy. That’s all.” It was a lie, and Hotch had been a profiler long enough and knew you well enough to catch it. The coffee finished brewing and you poured yourself a cup, adding in some creamer before turning to go back to the room where the rest of the team was.

But Hotch was standing in your way. The frown on his face was more pronounced than it usually was; the look in his never-blinking eyes less serious and more concerned than normal.

“(Y/N).” The sound of your boss using your first name made you stop. “Look me in the eyes and tell me what time you went to bed last night.  Or if you went to bed, for that matter.”

You felt your face blanch. “I went to bed when the team got to the hotel last night.” That was the truth.

Hotch’s expression took on a level of seriousness again. “How long did you sleep for?”

“Two hours. Maybe three?” You looked down, unable to meet his stare. “It’s just a side effect of my new medication. I’m fine, really. My doctor said it should go away in a few weeks.”

Hotch sighed quietly and held out his hand. Reluctantly, you gave him your fresh coffee. He emptied it in the sink and tossed the cup into the trash can. “No more coffee. You can work on the case until you feel tired, but once you do, you need to get some sleep.”

There was no point in arguing. The two of you walked back to the evidence room and began working. The combination of the gray sky through the window and the quiet of the room began to make you feel sleepy. You yawned, your eyes beginning to feel heavy and your limbs feeling fatigued.

Hotch looked at you from across the table. He nodded his head toward the couch in the room- an unspoken “go lay down.”

You closed your work and walked lazily to the couch, flopping down on it and closing your eyes. Within minutes you were sleeping peacefully on the old sofa, your soft breathing and the shuffling of papers were the only sounds in the room.

[cutestbow]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝟒

Penelope’s heart fully stopped working, or it felt like it at least once she saw what house she was at.

It was the exact house that boy lived at. Penelopes hands immediately started feeling sweaty and she started to feel dizzy.

“Penelope?, what’s wrong?” Her mother asked looking at her through the rear view mirror concerned.

“Nothing mommy I’m fine,” she lied not wanting to scare her mom, she’s already going through so much so she decided to keep to herself.

Once they got out the car and started walking towards the front door her breathing calmed down but her nerves didn’t. Her mother knocked on the door and was met with a woman, she had blue eyes a blonde hair and looked oddly like one of the boys Penelope saw a few weeks ago during the incident. She assumed she was their mother. She pulled her mother into a hug once she opened the door before turning to Penelope and introducing herself “gosh M she’s beautiful,” she said to her mother before speaking again.

“Hi sweetheart, I’m Ellen.” She said to Penelope as she let her and and her mother in.

She smiled back at her before speaking up “I’m Penelope” she said waving shyly.

“Oh, she’s adorable.” She said to her mother before turning and calling out three names that weren’t familiar to her. It didn’t take long for the same boys she saw a couple weeks ago to come scrambling down the stairs and walking up to their mother. Penelope avoided eye contact with a specific one, it was better for the both of them if they didn’t look at each other she thought.

“Boys this is Penelope, Penelope this is Quinn.” she said pointing to the older and more taller one. “Jack” she said pointing to the middle one with the ocean blue eyes.

“And Luke.” She Said pointing to the boy who’s stick she’d broken a few weeks ago.

She finally looked up and saw the annoyed and angry look on Luke’s face as he crossed his arms and looked away. “Ok boys I trust you’ll be kind to her while me and her mother go finish dinner?” Ellen asked but it was more of a demand. They all nodded well almost everyone, Luke didn’t he just stood there angrily.

Once Ellen and her mother walked away to the kitchen Penelope stood there akwardly not knowing what to do in that moment. Jack was the first one to approach her “come on!, we have a bunch of board games in our basement” Jack said grabbing her arm and pulling her to the basement while Quinn and Luke follow.

He was right they did have a lot of board games, like a lot, they had a whole shelf. “Since your our special guest you can pick one.” Quinn spoke smiling softly at her, before she could speak a voice cut her off “what?, but I always pick the games!” Luke shouted.

“Ignore him he’s been in a mood since the whole stick thingy” Jack spoke, so that’s exactly what she did as she grabbed connect 4 off the shelf. “Looks like you’ve got competition Lukey,” Jack said in which Luke grumbled something in response.

They all sat down on the floor in a circle as she waited for Quinn to put the game together, “alright we’ll do groups of two first then we’ll do finals and whoever wins gets my last bag of gummy bears.” Quinn spoke. “I’ll be on your team, is that ok?” He asked softly and she nodded already finding comfort in his tone.

The game started off with Quinn helping her out telling her where to put pieces and where not to put them but stopped when he realized she was pretty good at this and didn’t need much help.

She put a yellow piece in a realized immediately that she was wrong, but she wasn’t a sore loser so she had no reaction when Luke jumped up and yelled “connect 4!” And started celebrating with Jack. but of course Quinn was there to comfort her, “don’t worry you can have this next round I know you’ll win” he reassured her, making her smile at him.

The round started again and she really had to focus for this if she wanted to win, she didn’t really care about the gummy bears right now she just wanted to beat Luke.

The racket was slowing starting to get fuller and her pieces were starting to disappear, she put a red piece in this time and quickly looked over the racket yelling “connect 4!”, her and Quinn quickly started cheering as he pulled her into a hug, she burst out into laughter when she saw the look on Luke’s face, she started laughing even more when he started to angrily put away the game and stomp back upstairs.

“Good game” Jack Said to her before quickly following Luke back upstairs. “Come on let’s go,” Quinn said grabbing her hand and taking her back upstairs to go eat.

Once they all finished eating and it was time for her and her mother to leave, Ellen stopped them at the door giving her another a hug before calling the boys over again. Quinn gave her a hug and said bye, Jack gave her a hug followed by a “bye, p” she found the nickname odd but didn’t say anything.

Luke said nothing, he had his arms crossed again with an angry pout on his face. “Luke, say bye” Ellen said, he still stood there before Quinn nudged his arm and motioned towards Penelope.

“Bye.” he said angrily before stomping off.

[pacifymebby]

Can I request Peaky blinders with a s/o who faints at the site of blood. Love your posts ❤️

I guess warnings, theres be a lot of mentions of blood?

Enjoy this very fucking silly mood board <3

Tommy

🌿 Youd been doing your best to keep your aversion to blood a secret, not wanting tommy to think you were weak or just another "feeble minded good girl"

🌿 You thought that if he found out he'd think less of you, he'd find it frustrating and unnecessary, he might even think you a little pathetic

🌿 So youd made sure to avoid the sight of blood in front of him. Whenever one of the lads came back injured you found a way to busy yourself and help but in such a way that meant you could avoid seeing the gory details of their injury.

🌿Actually the way that your "issue" comes to his attention is when it is Tommy himself who comes home injured one night... Because you don't want to busy yourself in the other room, you don't want to help from a distance.

🌿 When its tommy who is injured your heart is in your throat. It isn't too serious a wound but its still bleeding, it looks bad. You can't just leave Pol to look after him on her own, he's your man... You need to help him...

🌿 So you do your best... You swallow down the sick feeling in your throat, that tight lump which constricts your breathing and makes you feel dizzy. You try to focus on your breathing... And at first its fine... Youre doing well... You feel terrible but you're okay. Your hands are shaking as you try to clean the blood away.

🌿 But then you get some of it on your hand and its the feeling of it touching you that tips you over the edge and overwhelms you.

🌿 You realise whats going to happen too late to do anything about it and in an instant Tommys hands have caught your body, guiding you gently into his arms despite the pain it's caused him to reach out for you like that.

🌿 Aunt Pol looks at you, shes a little confused, rolls her eyes and shakes her head because shes grown so used to violence that she can't understand why you'd have fainted over a little bit of blood.

🌿 But tommy understands and just sighs, closes his eyes gets struggles to stand, carrying you to lay you down somewhere near by but out of the way.

🌿 "Mustn't judge her Pol, its a good thing if not every girls had as hard and violent a life as you eh... You were scared of things once Pol, don't pretend you were always this cold..."

🌿 "Alright Pol looks like me and you had better get this fixed sharpish eh," he'd chuckle wanting to be there for you when you come round

🌿 He feels bad that you thought you had to hide your fear from him, if he'd known he'd have never let you near him. Wouldn't have let you seen him all messed up like that.

🌿 He'd do his best to make sure that there was no blood left on view when you woke up.

🌿 When you do wake up you feel dizzy and sick and so so embarrassed, its shameful that you couldn't help your man and you feel pathetic

🌿 But tommy is so gentle and kind to you "You tried to help me even though you were scared, that was very brave and very sweet of you angel, you're such a good girl..."

🌿"Im glad you don't like blood angel, shows you're an innocent, you shouldn't have to see so much blood..." "You should have told me angel, its nothing to be ashamed of! My sweet girl eh,"

🌿 He will go out of his way to make sure you never have to see that much blood ever again. He'll still let you try and help but when he can see that youre getting upset he'll kiss you on the forehead and say "enough now angel, you've done your part, go sit down rest..."

🌿 When his brothers turn up at the office or the house bleeding Tommy will get defensive immediately worrying about you as well as his brothers safety.

🌿"If you let Y/n see you like that I'll finish the fuckin job eh?" pointing to the wound and then sneaking them inside trying not to disturb you or attract your attention.

Alfie

🐻 He knows about your fear because you fainting at the sight of blood was actually how you met

🐻 You were weaving your way through Camden market one day with your friend, the two of you picking out ribbon for your hair...Alfie was there because there'd been a threat made against him by Sabini and his men...

🐻 But he'd been distracted from his work when he overheard your conversation with your friend. You had such a soft sweet voice, it had caught his attention, and when you laughed he noticed how it lit up your whole face.

🐻 So he had followed you from a distance, weaving his way between the stalls a little behind you... And he was glad that he had because when Sabini's men did turn up, shooting into the crowd mindlessly trying to cause a stir, Alfie saw the terror on your face and knew he needed to protect you.

🐻 When a bullet ripped through the old man on the stall beside you your friend had let out a scream and pushed through the crowd running away, but you hadn't.

🐻 Instead you'd frozen, your face paling as your eyes fixed unblinking on the man who was dying on the floor in front of you. You want to help but your mind has gone blank, its like you're glitching, you can't move, you feel sheer panic...

🐻 The sight of the blood is whats made you so helpless and you feel your knees begin to wobble as the noise of the market and the crowd fades out, like someone turning the volume and the lights down all at once.

🐻 But when you faint you don't fall all the way to the floor. Alfie catches you, wraps his big arms around your body and lifts you up so that he can carry you to safety. Away from the fighting.

🐻 When you come round you have your head resting on his coat in his lap, he's sitting on the floor behind one of the market stalls, the two of you hidden from the view of anybody else

🐻 When you recognise him you're scared but not for very long. He holds his finger to his lip to shush you and then, with his other hand strokes his fingers over your hair.

🐻 "Reckon you don't like blood very much do you poppet... See you saw some right and you went all pale yeah... When i saw you go all pale i thought that girls gonna faint ain't she, and well, luckily for you i caught you and bought you here to safety..."

🐻 So he's always known about your fear, about how sensitive you are to it too. He's had you faint at the sight of your own finger pricked on a needle before...

🐻 But hes always lovely to you about it, ever so caring a gentle. He really dotes on you and has never snapped at you or insulted you for your fear.

🐻 He likes the excuse to take care of you and be soft with you, to be protective over you. If someone at the factory hurts themselves Alfie will put his hands over your eyes so you can't see and walk you carefully to his office, talking to you gently and reassuring.

🐻 If you injure yourself and start bleeding he'll make you close your eyes and lean back against his chest until he can lower you to safety and patch you up himself.

🐻 And if he's injured he won't give you the opportunity to try and help, his first command to anyone will be "Fuckin make sure y/n isn't around... Don't let her see this mess alright, she don't need to see this mess..."

🐻 He will be so soft with you when you are injured yourself, calling you a brave girl, kissing your forhead. And whenever you get upset or question why he likes you when youre clearly "pathetic being scared of blood and dating a gangster..." he'll get all serious and a little bit gruff telling you never to say things like that.

Arthur

🍂 Oo bestie this ones gonna be rough

🍂 Arthur is literally always getting into fights, he can't keep himself out of trouble no matter how hard he tries.

🍂 So he's always coming home covered in blood. Most of the time, when he's been fighting at the boxing gym, his brothers have done their best to clean him up before you can see him.

🍂 So the first time he realises how much blood effects you, he's shocked by it.

🍂 You were all out drinking at the Garrison, the mood was carefree and you were sitting in Arthurs lap.

🍂 But when a fight breaks out despite the blinders efforts to keep a clean evening, Arthur is the first to stand up. You slip from his lap and watch in horror as he smashes a glass down hard on the troublemakers face, challenging anyone else in the room to fight him.

🍂 The sight of blood gushing free and dark down this strangers face leaves you shaking like a leaf, your insides scrunching up, your head suddenly light and aching as your vision grows faded and then suddenly dark.

🍂 When you come to your ears are ringing and your head is resting in Ada's lap. She has a cool rag held to your forehead and is being careful to tend to you.

🍂 When your eyes flutter open you remember everything and feel a little sick, you're embarrassed of course, a peaky girl fainting at the sight of blood? How ridiculous. More than that though you're worried about your Arthur.

🍂 "Where's..." you start but before you can finish he's at your side in seconds, on his knees holding your hands in his.

🍂 "I'm so sorry love didn't mean to scare you, didn't mean to frighten you darlin..." he's so apologetic and gentle with you.

🍂 From then on he'd really try to control his temper, especially around you. It wont always work and there will be plenty of times just like the first, but he will try his best to keep the violence to a minimum

🍂 In front of you that is anyway...

🍂 The fighting won't stop but he will be much more careful about coming home with blood on his clothes. He'll stop by his brothers house to wash and change his shirt on the way home. He'll never set foot in front of you with blood on him if he can help it.

🍂 He will be so protective of you too, if anyone ever questions why he's with a girl who's so bothered by blood he'll tell them to shut their mouth and threaten them. If his brothers tease him about it he'll skip the threats and cut straight to thumping them.

🌼 Could tell you were a little "soft" right from the first time he met you. Your aversion to the violence in his life was one of the reasons he'd gone soft on you.

🌼 You were so different in that sense from every other aspect of his life

🌼 So the first time you fainted he wasn't surprised exactly, in fact he was kind of ready to catch you.

🌼 He's only really surprised by the way in which it all comes around. He'd always done his best to hide any bad injuries from you, keep you as far away from the violence of the blinders as best he can.

🌼 But he had always presumed it would be the injuries of one of his brothers that youd see... Not one of his own (because hes cocky, hes never expecting he'll get hurt)

🌼 He wasn't counting on getting shot, wasn't counting on you being so determined to help him... He'd tried to tell his brothers not to tell you he was hurt

🌼 But you burst in there practically fighting with tommy to let you help him... The only thing is the second you see John with blood seeping and staining his white shirt, all the fight in you drains away and you don't know what to do...

🌼 Johns stood up in an instant, rushing to your side, his arm snaking around your waist protectively.

🌼 "S'alright flower I'm alright, you're gonna be alright," he murmurs to you as you feel your head go heavy, your ears ringing. He's the last thing your hear and the first thing you hear too because he doesnt leave your side the whole time youre out.

🌼 His brothers fix him up and Polly lectures him about putting himself in harms way...

🌼 Whenever anyone goes to make a comment about you he shuts them up before they can say a word.

🌼 "Don't fuckin say it, i know what you're thinking but don't you dare fuckin say it... Y/n's a sweet girl, shes a good girl... She's not used to all this shit and thats a fucking good thing..." hes so defensive of you that no ones going to try and argue with him.

🌼 He will be very cautious in future to keep you as far from the peaky violence as he can. If you ever cut yourself at home he'll be with you in a heartbeat always ready to reassure you and comfort you, and catch you if he needs to.

Bonnie

🍀 Rather than get caught out you end up having to admit it to him, its embarrassing honestly, you feel like youre confessing this awful stupid dirty secret and you're scared hes going to think so much less of you afterwards.

🍀 You end up having to confess because for the whole time youve been his girl, you havent been to a single one of his fights... You want to, you really wish you could go and support him, but youre just too scared

🍀 Because you know he'll be a bloody mess by the end of the fight and you know you won't be able to handle it

🍀 So every time he has a fight coming up you manage to come up with an excuse not to go, or you manage to disappear into the woodlands for a few days on some "errand"

🍀 But after awhile this starts to worry bonnie, hes upset you dont want to support him and he ends up thinking its because you dont like that hes a fighter, he thinks youre scared of him

🍀 So one day he confronts you and you get so awkward. You actually do consider running away from him... In the end you just cry though, apologising over and over and trying to reassure you it isnt him youre scared of

🍀 When you finally tell him you feel so pathetic and embarrassed.... "if youre going to laugh at me get it over with already Bonnie," you say trying to be brave and pretend you don't care

🍀 But bonnie just shakes his head, smiling because hes relieved you don't hate him and arent scared of him... And also because he can't believe that this was your big secret.

🍀"Why would i laugh at you for something like that eh little dove?" he'd hug you and kiss your cheek, play with your hair and probably enjoy how shy you got... Then he'd reassure you he doesn't think youre stupid for being bothered by the sight of blood.

🍀 He makes an agreement with you, you don't watch his fights but you do promise to come and wish him good luck in the changing rooms before he goes out into the ring.

🍀 He will always be understanding and careful with you and, theres lots of opportunity for bloody injuries at the camp what with the hunting they do and all the sharp knives they have... So he'll be extra careful in future to keep the risk of injury to a minimum... And if there does happen to be one and theres a lot of blood, he will be by your side in a second to reassure you, telling you to close your eyes and focus on his voice.

🍀 He'll tell you a little story to distract you or sing to you, or tickle you... Anything really to distract you and make you forget what you've seen.

🍀 After you've come round from a fainting spell he'll make you an irish tea (idk if thats what you call them everywhere else in the world but i mean normal tea with like, a thimble of whiskey stirred in) its the perfect rememdy.

🍀 If you decide you want to stop fainting at the sight of blood he will very cautiously try to help you with that, but he will always be worried about pressuring you or you pushing yourself too far so he will be a little timid to help.

Isaiah

🐀 He'll probably be surprised when you faint at the sight of blood because you will have done a very very good job of putting on the fearless umbothered act around the rough boy.

🐀 Isaiah is such a "bad boy" that you would be convinced he would think less of you if he found out about your difficulty with blood... So youd do your best to hide it and also to convince him that you weren't scared of anything... You were just as bad as him

🐀 Of course when youre dating a peaky boy there's only so long you can keep an act like that up before you get caught out

🐀And its your own fucking fault... You accidentally break a glass and cut yourself on it when youre drunk at the Garrison.

🐀 Everyone youre with just laughs and takes the piss but you struggle to laugh along, looking down at your hand and the bloody line the glass has drawn across your palm.

🐀Isaiah would roll his eyes, chuckling along with his pals, also taking the piss but trying to help you too. "Alright reckon thats a sign if ever i saw one, alright you lets get you home before you do anymore damage..." hes being cheeky, wrapping your hand in a rag promising to sort it out properly when youre home.

🐀You manage to hold it together for all of five seconds but the moment you stand up to join him in leaving the pub, your body gives way beneath you and you collapse into his arms.

🐀He'd be stunned, thinking you weren't anywhere near drunk enough to have passed out on him

🐀It probably takes him a moment to work it out but when he does he decides to run with the "drunk" story to all your friends, realising youve obviously been hiding this fear of yours for a reason.

🐀When you come round he's carrying you home back to his place, has you bundled up in his arms and is singing a little song under his breath.

🐀"Shit," you murmur as you open your eyes, you can feel the stinging in your hand and it reminds you what happened.

🐀"Not as tough as you make out eh mousey?" he asks you, his voice kind and teasing rather than cruel.

🐀Youd be embarrassed trying to make up an excuse trying to pretend but Isaiah would just chuckle and tell you not to lie... "Whatre you embarrassed for darlin? So you don't like blood its no big deal? I hate the stuff me... Makes a right mess of everything doesn't it..."

🐀He'd try to make jokes to make you feel better about it

🐀He'd definitely tease you about the fact you pretended to be such a tough girl for so long just to impress him.

🐀Will remind you you don't need to try and impress him.

Michael

☘️ Honestly he understands it? The sight of blood makes him feel a bit sick sometimes too, especially after the injuries hes seen on himself and his cousins... Sometimes the sight of blood makes him feel faint and all

☘️So he has a lot of sympathy for you, and hes lowkey glad youre not as unfeeling and desensitised as the Shelby women he knows.

☘️ He can tell you're going to faint by looking at you and will always make sure hes by your side to ease you down to the floor/chair/bed/wherever

☘️ He won't let anyone say a word to you about your fear, he won't let anyone say a bad word about you ever but especially not about this. He's very protective of you.

☘️ "At least shes got a fuckin heart eh tommy... Least she still knows it ain't a good thing to bleed."

☘️He makes sure you never come round alone, waits by your side, holds a cold cloth to your forhead, will get you water, whiskey, tea whatever you need...

☘️ He will never let you put yourself down about it either, if ever you express disdain for yourself over the fainting, he'll immediately correct you.

☘️ "don't say that darling, it doesn't make you weak just cause you don't like to see blood... Who does like to see blood eh? It ain't a normal thing for a woman to like is it..."

☘️ Lots of forehead kisses to comfort you before and after you've fainted.

☘️ Sometimes his cousins tell him he's too soft on you, that they think its stupid he's dating a woman who couldn't even stomach stitching him up if he got shot, they'll tell him he needs to help you get over your fear, but he won't let them bully him or you...

☘️ Of course he would support you if you wanted to try and get over the fear you have, but he'd never suggest it to you, it would need to be your own idea.. He wouldn't want to make you feel like you need fixing because you don't.

[rayofdawnworld]

Too Late part 2

Well, here is part two of my very first Reader Inert fic. Tell me how I'm doing, please. Thanks again to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor making this wonderful mood board that inspired me to do this.

Minors DON NOT INTERACT. I MEAN IT! If you're under 18 come back when you are.

Tags will be added as needed.

I will tag you if you want.

Tagging you based on your likes: @silelda, @thezombieprostitute,@thedragonlab, @leonaax, @chocolatecherryblossomsweets

This is a Dark fic. How dark I don't know, it all depends.

Obsessive!Sherlock Holmes/Smart!Reader

Warnings, none yet.

Part 1 Part 3

You were walking home after a long day of work. It was getting late, and you still had a day's work ahead of you tomorrow. At least it wasn't raining. Some of the students thought it would be funny to spill pigs' innards all over the medical classrooms as a prank. Of course, to the casual observer, it all looked the same, but despite the similarities, there were slight differences that a more knowledgeable or careful observer would catch. You were only slightly embarrassed to admit that it had taken you a bit longer to realise that the organs spilled all over the floors were not, in fact, human. The only thing giving you some comfort was that the professors, those highly intelligent and superior minds, took longer than you. 

Sadly, since you were one of three maids who had not fainted at the macabre sight, you and the other ladies were tasked with cleaning everything up. You smelled like clotted blood and spoiled meat. You were wet, you were starving, your back hurt, you were past feeling your feet, your knees were bruising, and your hands were beginning to cramp. 

That didn't stop you from realising that someone was following you.

Of all the things I need, whatever this is right now is not it. Taking advantage of the chill, you rubbed your hands roughly and started to work out their kinks harshly, going as far as to bite some of your fingers discreetly while also constraining your breath and steps. 

There was no need to warn whoever was following you that you had caught on to their presence.

Having barely managed to gain some fluidity in your hands, you put them in your apron pockets, thanking God that you had opted not to take them off, as was your habit.

You counted your steps to ten as you breathed deeply every two steps. You grabbed the small pistol you found in your mother's jewellery bag. 

You reached ten and spun swiftly. Years of training with your mother and dancing, the one thing your aunt let you take with Anna to keep up appearances, kept you from getting dizzy. 

There was no one there. Or at least, it seemed that way. You smiled.

"I know you are out theeere" you sang in a taunt. "I felt you following me," you growled. "And I do know how to shoot." And with that final warning breathed into the night, you took off on a run. After all, you had always been a fast runner. 

You reached your shabby rooms, just barely missing the curfew. Luckily, Mrs. Acker took one look at you and ushered you in. You thanked her profusely as she helped you take off your clothes. Even your underthings were impregnated with the smell of blood, sweat, and the beginnings of rot. You would have to pay for the bath come next payday. You scrubbed yourself, feeling a bit better despite your tiredness. Looking at the clock, you moaned petulantly. You would only have a few hours of sleep before having to get up early to help old Mr. Beckwourth in the market stall selling fish. 

It wasn't by chance that you chose these jobs. Both took time, had a modestly adequate pay, rendered you invisible, and lent you a godawful smell, ensuring that none came near you. Just two more weeks. That's all. Two more weeks. You rambled in your mind as you got out of the old metallic tub and dried yourself as best you could. 

As you got ready for bed, you mourned the loss of intelligent conversation. You would do just about anything to have an engaging exchange. You'd give anything for a good game of chess. Two more weeks. You felt as if these last weeks were going to be the hardest yet. 

You seemed to have forgotten the age-old adage, Be careful about what you wish for.

 You didn't know you had been found. You didn't know that your pursuer had just managed to hide himself before you turned around, surprised by how easily you had found him out. You didn't know what your words did to his pride or how knowing that you could use a weapon made him reconsider his approach. Your father had never said anything about knowing how to handle weaponry. What else did you know? You spun with grace—yes, the grace of a dancer—but there was a precise strength as well. Your stance was that of a fighter. Did you know how to fight Pussycat? Oh yes, he remembered your mother's preferred pet name for you. Pussycat. It had potential. You didn't know that as you sprinted with considerable speed despite being held down by damp wool, a pair of vibrant blue eyes darkened with an unknown feeling as he reshaped his entire opinion about you for a second time.

As you lay in bed in a fitful sleep, you didn't know that somewhere else, a man, a most brilliant man, lay in his bed wondering what you truly looked like. Years prior, the paint you wore on your face concealed your appearance; now grime and exhaustion do the same. He had heard about your grandmother's beauty and how you resembled her, but somehow he wagered that you had suppressed her beauty tenfold. 

You didn't know what your defiance had done to your pursuer. A man with vibrant blue eyes who no longer considered you a quarry but instead now saw you as a worthy opponent.

A dangerous thing to be, his opponent.

It was a well-known fact that Sherlock Holmes was a formidable man, infamous for dragging all those who opposed him down to his feet. These next few days were going to be very entertaining. He smiled deviously as he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

Whether you ended up on your knees at his feet or standing by his side depended entirely on just how smart you truly were. Not that it mattered either way. 

Sherlock Holmes always got what he wanted.

And Sherlock Holmes wanted you.

[cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut]

Inspiration Saturday

Made myself a little mood board for some Shower Sex™️ in boxing fic 👀 and became simply desperate to share it. Pls also enjoy a bonus little snippet. 🥊

“Come and show me then,” TK says over his shoulder, devilish in how casual he sounds. “Come over here and take exactly what you need.”

Carlos’s c*ck gives a dizzying throb, and he follows TK into the locker room.

No pressure tags below the cut.

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