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[aiweirdness]

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[popamolly]

‘ DANCE WITH THE DEVIL ’ ALASTOR

summary. a bit heartbroken by last night’s events, you tried to move forward and entertain more suitors, a string still pulling on your heart since it was hard to forget alastor.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

warnings. human!alastor x fem!reader, eventual smut, mature themes, age gap! youre 20 while alastor is in his early 30s, alastor is a serial killer, alastor stalks you, dark romance, angst, gore, death, blood kink, not a happy ending

author’s note. thank you for all the love this story is getting!

The next morning arrived with the sunlight streaming through the window and painting the room in a soft warm glow. You stirred awake from a restless sleep, the events of the previous night hung heavy in the air but before you could get lost in your thoughts a gentle knock on the door interrupted your thoughts, and your mother entered with a tray of your favorite breakfast.

"Good morning," she greeted sharply, setting the tray on the bedside table.

The atmosphere in the room felt charged with tension and you felt as though if you made a sudden move you might die from the suffocation of it all. Your mother's stern expression hinted at the lingering disapproval from the night before. As she sat down, her eyes bore into yours, her words measured and direct.

"I hope you've had a chance to reflect on your behavior last night. Venturing into such places is unbecoming of a lady, especially a Duvalier, I will not have you tarnishing your father's name." she chided, her tone laced with disapproval.

Your attempts to explain were met with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Enough. We won't dwell on the mistakes of yesterday. However, I must insist that you put this Alastor nonsense out of your mind."

The mention of Alastor brought a rush of emotions that you had to swallow down. Now your mother’s instructions became more of a command rather than a suggestion. Though when have her words ever been a suggestion.

"Forget about him, my dear. You need to focus on the suitors who are genuinely interested in you. Now, get dressed. We have guests arriving and you must present yourself with grace and composure," she instructed sharply.

The weight of your mother's insistence felt like shackles but you complied, suppressing your emotions. As you prepared for the day, the memories of the jazz club and Alastor were pushed to the back of your mind, replaced by the formalities and expectations you were to upheld.

The morning, which had begun with the soft glow of sunlight, now unfolded in a harsh contrast. As you descended the grand staircase to meet the suitors, a silent determination set in.

The night before had been replaced by the reality of the courting season, and in this world of scripted dances and polished conversations, the echoes of the jazz club was nothing but a forbidden memory.

"And your favorite hobby?" The man next to you asked as you both walked along the side of the riverbank with your mother in tow behind you as a chaperone.

"Cooking, sewing, cleaning..." You listed everything your mother practiced you to say since you were sixteen with a bored expression, "It's hard to choose really. Especially when my new hobby would be doing all those things and taking care of man who can't take care of himself."

The gentleman's expression shifted from mild curiosity to genuine offense as your response veered off the expected path for traditional domestic roles. He struggled to conceal his surprise, his facial features contorting into disbelief.

"Taking care of a man who can't take care of himself?" he repeated, his tone carrying a touch of annoyance. "Well, I must say, I wasn't expecting such... candidness. A woman's role is to support and enhance her husband's life, not to suggest he's incapable."

Your mother, who had been following as a discreet chaperone, discreetly cleared her throat, offering a subtle reminder of the expected decorum during such conversations. The gentleman, however, appeared unamused by your deviation from the conventional script.

"I believe in partnership and mutual support," you continued, maintaining your composure despite the tension in the air. "In my view, a successful marriage is built on shared responsibilities and understanding, don't you think so? Or is your brain too small minded?"

The gentleman's offense transformed into outright displeasure, and his face reddened with anger. He took a step back, as if distancing himself from the perceived audacity of your words.

"I never expected such impertinence," he huffed, his voice dripping with disdain before turning to your mother. "If this is the kind of woman your daughter has become, madam, perhaps a lesson in decorum is in order."

Your mother, taken aback by the abrupt turn of events, attempted to diffuse the tension. "I assure you, she is a capable and respectful young woman."

The gentleman scoffed, "Respectful? A woman's place is to support her husband, not challenge societal norms. If you want to see your daughter married perhaps you should tape her mouth first."

With those final words, he turned on his heel, storming off along the riverbank, leaving an air of tension in his wake. Your mother, left momentarily speechless, could only watch as he disappeared from view.

Your mother, though caught off guard by the gentleman's departure, turned her attention towards you with a stern expression, the air thick with disapproval.

"I cannot believe you would speak so boldly, especially to such a promising young man. Do you even know who his father is?" she scolded, her voice low. "You'd be lucky if he doesn't spread a rumor about you and your outspoken views, who will marry you then?"

You bit your lip, a mix of frustration and defiance bubbling within you. The stifling expectations of the season seemed to constrict, and the encounter had exposed the deep-seated clash between tradition and your desire for an equal partnership.

"But Mother, I only spoke the truth. I want a marriage built on partnership," you argued, your voice carrying a hint of rebellion, "I want love."

Your mother's gaze remained unwavering, and she sighed in exasperation. "Love? My dearest child, it was one night of sweet nothings you must forget that man. You must understand that your words have consequences, and you must learn to navigate these social situations with more finesse."

The scolding continued, a lecture on the importance of being a mere trophy without thoughts. As the words from your mother lingered, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of resentment. The courting season proved to be more of a challenge than you had anticipated.

The journey back home was quiet, the echoes of the encounters with potential suitors lingering in the air. Your grand estate, once a symbol of opulence and refinement, now felt like a gilded cage . A cage that you unfortunately had to be stuck in for the rest of your life.

As you and your mother entered the stately home, servants helped you take your coats off at the door. Tonight had only proved that the majority of suitors were mostly ignorant and entitled. Men who expected the traditional gender roles only stifled your desire for a more equal partnership.

You follow your mother into drawing-room where tea awaited, sitting down on one of the elegant couches after pouring yourself a cup. You mentally prepared yourself as your mother sat across from you, dropping two sugar cubes into her own teacup with a discerning gaze, ready address the events of the afternoon.

"Do you understand that I want only the best for you? It is hard but you must find content with your situation, as I did. The suitors today were from respected families, and their opinions carry weight in our social circles," she advised, her tone a mix of caution and motherly concern, "Don't be foolish to throw this all way because you want a fairytale marriage."

You sighed, feeling her slowly start to crush your spirit. "Mother, I cannot fake enthusiasm for these men. I want a marriage based on love and mutual respect, is that so bad?"

Your mother's expression hardened, a sign of her struggle between the desire for your happiness and keeping your father's legacy alive. "The world we live in demands certain sacrifices for the sake of reputation."

The conversation continued, a delicate dance between generations, aspirations, and tradition. The walls of the grand estate seemed to close in, threatening suffocate every ounce of a dream you had left.

"We will talk more about this later, now go and freshen up for dinner." Your mother turns from you to get the daily mail that sat onto a silver plater one of our servants held. Her thoughts now occupied with whatever was in those letters addressed to her.

The mention of dinner provided you temporary relief, a chance to gather your thoughts in the privacy of your room.

As you reached the upper landing and walked down the corridor towards your room, a familiar sense of fatigue settled in. The idea of facing another evening filled with polite conversation and forced smiles only wished to drain you more than you already were. With a sigh, you opened the door to your room, hoping to somehow muster enough strength to make through dinner with your mother.

Upon entering, the room was bathed in the soft glow of the evening sun. The space offered little comfort compared to the storm brewing within your mind. You moved towards the patio doors, intending to draw the heavy curtains and shut out the world for a brief moment.

However, as you approached the doors, a gasp caught in your throat. There, at the patio, stood Alastor, his tan skin bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun. He held a bouquet of flowers in hand, with that grin that would be bone-chilling if you were in another world.

Had he climbed up to your patio? Your heart skipped a beat, startled by his unexpected presence. Alastor turned, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that mirrored the electrifying encounter at the jazz club.

"Forgive the intrusion," Alastor spoke, a charming smile playing on his lips. "I couldn't resist the opportunity to see you again, (Y/N).”

You found yourself at a loss for words, the sight of him standing there, outside your room, both thrilling and a little scary. The flowers he held seemed to highlight the spontaneity of the night that had captured your heart.

As you stood there, Alastor's gaze held a question, an unspoken invitation to step into the realm of the unexpected once more. You couldn’t, you thought, you shouldn’t. The decision lay before you – to embrace the conventional path or to follow the allure of something more unpredictable and genuine.

A surge of conflicting emotions washed over you at the sight of Alastor. The initial surprise and excitement gradually gave way to a simmering anger that had lingered since the day before. Memories of his sudden departure, leaving you alone in the crowd, resurfaced to only fuel the flames of anger.

You composed yourself, maintaining a veneer of poise, as you faced Alastor at the patio doors. "Alastor," you greeted, your tone betraying a subtle undercurrent of tension.

He smiled, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing beneath the surface. "I hoped to catch you before dinner. These are for you, my dear," he said, extending the bouquet of flowers towards you.

You accepted the flowers with a forced smile, your gaze sharpening as you met his eyes. "How kind of you. But if this is your way of an apology for leaving me the night before then you are not forgiven," you remarked, your words laced with a hint of reproach.

Alastor's expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of remorse crossing his features. "I apologize if my departure caused you any distress. It wasn't my intention."

You couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration at his nonchalant response. "Intentions or not, it was thoughtless. All this is challenging enough without being abandoned in the middle of a crowded club."

Alastor's gaze dropped ever so slightly, "You're right, and I regret not explaining myself that night." The man before you was unable to meet your eyes, "Something came up and I had to tend to it right away, I had hoped to invite you to dinner to properly apologize."

"Dinner?" You looked back at the clock hanging from your wall, knowing that your mother was expecting you in less than an hour to join her, "I can't tonight."

"Tomorrow then?" Alastor persisted, his eyes searching for a glimpse of agreement.

"Tomorrow." you agreed, the magnetic charm that surrounded him softening your resolve. A sense of anticipation lingered, a silent acknowledgment of the romance weaving through the conversation.

As Alastor pressed a tender kiss to your knuckles, a shiver ran down your spine, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. His gesture, reminiscent of the forbidden knight in shining armor that came to save your dress that fateful day.

"I will see you tomorrow," you responded, your words breathless, caught in the enchantment of the moment. The courtyard, bathed in the soft hues of the setting sun, transformed into a canvas for the unfolding romance between you two. Was this foolish yes? But when you are smitten and swooped off your feet by the person who you think could be the one, it didn’t seem so foolish. Everything surrounding Alastor made perfect sense even when nothing about him made sense at all.

"I can't wait to reveal to you my world, my dear," Alastor's voice carried a mysterious undertone, his words dancing on the edge of menacing. Unbeknownst to you, the promise held a duality, a blend of charm and an underlying darkness that eluded your naive perception.

As Alastor departed, leaving you in the fading light of the terrance, the echoes of his words lingered. The anticipation of the mysterious dinner date took root in your heart, overshadowed by the allure of a world yet to be unveiled. Little did you know, that this romantic endeavor concealed layers of foreshadowing pain and death.

© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost on any other social media.

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[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [13]

Impulse is a little back in time, simply to retrieve a thing from the most haunted city in america.

the instructions were clear, in. grab thing. out. no funny business, no anything else.

why the fuck did it had to be impulse then?! that’s never gonna- ah, whatever…

So Bart does not just do only that. He remembers to keep moving fast so he’s not seen, but well, he spotted these two white suited goofballs who looked upset with their little box contraption and somehow were missing the little unplugged wire and Bart figured, what could the harm be?

so he might have plugged the little wire in while he was there, sue him, the guys looked surprised but pleased that their little thingy was suddenly working. good job Impulse right?

he didn’t forget about it but he might have shoved it in the back trunk of his head while he went on to do his actual job which is essentially forgetting for a guy with eidetic memory.

So yeah, imagine his surprise when he gets back to where he came from and finds himself on a doomed, desolate earth with green skies and nothing but scorched rock and ruins for miles.

What he’s seeing is an earth in the aftermath of a war against the infinite realms.

So now he has to go back to the past and fix his reckless mistake. Would it be wise to maybe see if he can find a single living soul with some info on what happened to make this ordeal a little easier? maybe, but that might involve him having to explain himself which will most likely be followed by a subsequent well deserved lecture and Bart is hoping to fix this without all that because he clearly fucked up. like, it’s very obvious. and he’s feeling very bad about it, honest.

back in the past again though, he nearly collapses, he’s seriously overdoing it at this point, afterall he was supposed to be able to recuperate once he got back. 

But he has to push through, he can’t slow down, he has to find those two guys and nab their little machine that’s apparently a doomsday device or something, he doesn’t know when they will use it, or where, so slowing down now is absolutely out of the question.

“woah hey there man, are you alright?”

he’s startled into complete stillness, and then he’s just thinking about how this guy looks like a fusion between Robin and Superboy, he can picture it perfectly in his head, fully animated dragon ball fusion style.

it’s SuperRobin, real name Ton, or maybe Kim.

getting distracted, he was asked a question, better answer.

“yeahI’mfine” he wheezes, very believable stuff.

“no you’re not, do you need a hand? sick Impulse cosplay by the way”

So, yeah, Danny pesters Bart into at least eating and drinking something, he says that if the two guys, who are now identified to Bart as the guys in white also known as the GIW or the Ghost Investigation Ward… and Bart going “oh I know a ghost! she’s really great” and Danny being pleasantly surprised.

but anyway if those guys do anything he will know, cause apparently they are very loud and quite destructive. and that’s honestly no comfort to Bart cause he knows what the future is gonna look like, but also he’s about to pass out and that would be super uncool and also make him totally useless anyway so… eating and drinking first it is.

Danny is a local, which is useful cause Bart only knew the route he needed to take for his previous mission and not really anything else regarding this place. And he tells Bart that he’s screwed with the GIW before so he knows how they operate. it fucking sucks that Bart accidentally aided apparent government bad guys… the others can never find out…

Overall, working with Danny is pretty great. For a civilian the guy is very resourceful. he’s witty, smart, funny, a lot stronger than he looks, honestly maybe the SuperRobin fusion thing he thought about before has some merit… are there any hidden clone labs around? billionaires with zero morals? yes? no? maybe?

Bart simply told Danny that he needs the machine from the white suit guys for future superhero reasons. and he’s fully intending on just handing it over to Robin, hopefully while not having to explain why he has it in the first place, and see if he can figure out how it’s gonna cause the world to end so they can make sure that can never happen.

Danny says that the machine is probably just an anti ghost weapon of some kind. Bart is skeptical, because first of all, why would anyone need anti ghost weapons when magic is already a thing and works on them just fine. Like all the superhero exorcists that Bart knows use some form of magic, well he guess anti ghost weapons would be useful for the bats, but that begs the question why is the government going around trying to shoot ghosts? and why hasn’t Bart heard of this before, cause this sounds like something Robin would enjoy telling him about.

But Bart, with significant help from Danny, manages to… confiscate (steal) the machine from the white suits.

he promises Danny he’ll visit, cause they are friends now, it’s official. And he would love to introduce him to the others as well.

Once back Bart still gets lectured of course, and Tim does reveal that yeah, the box really is just some sort of ghost trapping device, and he’s keeping it.

Bart doesn’t really care, the only thing he cares about is that everything is back to normal and he even got a new friend out of the whole ordeal.

It's then that Robin brings up a new member for Young Justice who will soon be joining them, and Bart is completely confused.

Everyone else is confused at Bart’s confusion, this was already known a week ago? and Bart figures that something did change somewhere somehow anyway, that’s fine.

Kon reminds Bart of the new guy’s callsign, apparently it’s Phantom.

Bart tries to imagine what they would look like, but at the moment he can only picture Danny in a SuperRobin outfit.oh well, hopefully this just means that Bart manages to get two friends out of this whole mess.

[illicitlimerence-writes]

game on | m. verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x reader word count: 1.5k words request: nope.warnings: this is just porn. i tried to give it a little plot at the end but it's all just smut. 18+ only, minors dni. it's also badly written and not proofread so yeah a/n: i've been reading a lot of hotd smut fics for like a week and i guess this was inspired by them lmao. it's shit i know but it was an itch i had to scratch

my masterlist 

(dear lord, i want him so bad)

the touch of a hand. the discovery of the shape of his lips. learning what makes her tremble. 

none of her previous lovers could ever compare to what max made her feel. their connection was out of this world, something one only read about in books. it was magical, the way only they only had to share one touch, one look, and they knew what the other meant, what they wanted. 

max loved her eyes. they were expressive and as much as she tried to hide her true reactions to the rest of the world, he only had to watch her for a few seconds to know what she was actually thinking. 

he especially loved watching her eyes when they were being intimate. how the tears welled up as she tried to follow his instructions and just resist the urge to snap. how they'd widen in surprise whenever he first entered her, whether with his fingers, tongue or cock. she'd always roll her eyes back when he changed his pace to reach her g spot. 

he always made sure to love every inch of her, starting with her face and cheeks, he loved how he could feel the heat rushing there, blood running fast. then he moved down to her neck, leaving small lovemarks all over.

her chest would heave, moving up and down with every shallow breath she took. the way she curled her fingers on his hair only spurred him on, encouraging to continue his way down her body. 

slowly, he'd raise a finger and play with her nipples, biting his lower lip as he felt them harden beneath his touch. his mouth would follow his hands, wet tongue ready to stimulate as much as she'd allow. 

he'd look up, watching her brows furrowed in a perfect frown. mouth slightly agape as soundless breaths left her lungs. even after years of sex together, she was still as sensitive as the very first time. 

he continued his journey down her body, reaching her warm, wet cunt, he looked up again, seeing her already looking down at him. with a pillow beneath her hips, something max always insisted on having to help with her comfort, it was easier to watch his hungry eyes roam her most intimate spot. 

his mouth watered at the sight, he hadn't even touched her there yet and she was already ready for him. his fingers touched the sensitive skin of her thighs, big, strong hands holding her delicately. she whimpered, so ready for him it was almost torture. the pad of his finger met her clit, carefully drawing circles on her bud. his eyes flew to her face, hair resting all over the white sheets, her chest still carrying the evidence from his previous attack. 

"so beautiful," he whispered, removing his finger to replace it with his tongue. 

he could die between her legs, with his face buried deep between her folds and tongue inside of her. what a heavenly way to die.

but he still had a job to finish, he could think about dying later, first, he had to make her cum in a way she’d never forget. 

fastening the pace of his fingers on her clit, he drank all of her wetness, a sweet nectar that fueled him even more. he moved his mouth and fingers, switching their position so his mouth was on her bundle of nerves and his fingers entered her, slowly at first, two at once, as she was so ready and prepared for him. 

she let out a soundless gasp, closing her eyes as she breathed in sharply. but max curled his fingers in that way only he knew how, making her arch her back and look up at him, the desperate look on her face made a shiver go down his spine. 

"please, i want you," she whispered, voice barely audible, "need you, max," she begged, her voice mixing with the obscene sounds of him worshiping her cunt. 

"hmm, are you sure you're ready for me?" he said as he sat up, fingers still buried inside her clenching walls, so tight, he couldn't wait to feel her around his cock. 

"stop. fucking. teasing." she said, rocking her hips, chasing friction. he smirked, free hand slapping slightly the skin of her inner thighs. 

“you didn’t answer my question,” he said, moving so his face was on top of hers. he moved his fingers in and out, a slow torture that made her shut her eyes, a frown on her face and a whine escaping her lips.

“i want you. i’ve been ready for you since you kissed me after your podium,” she whispered, feeling as he moved her hair away from her face and neck, the sweaty skin causing it to stick there. 

the moments blurred together as she felt him entering, their lips met, foreheads touched as they both moaned and groaned, the electricity between them was almost palpable, the air was thick and they were the only people that existed in that moment. 

her walls around him felt heavenly, clenching every so often as he changed speed or position, which made blood rush to his brain and his cock, getting even harder. it was like a chain reaction, she made a noise or a certain movement, and it caused a reaction from max, which in turn made him roll his hips, grip her thighs or kiss the sweet spot on her neck. 

sex with max was a religious experience. she could never get tired of it, no matter how many nights they spent together. he always managed to make her feel loved, desired, wanted. he knew exactly what she needed, even when she didn’t know it herself. he wasn’t afraid to try new things and explore the limits of her pleasure. everything with her consent, of course, nothing was more important to him that she enjoyed things as much as he did. 

when she thought she couldn’t hold her climax anymore she always closed her eyes, the air couldn’t reach her lungs as she gave sharp breaths, and that’s when max would change his pace or his position. 

and as she closed her eyes, her inner walls impossibly tight around max’s length, max decided not to make her wait any longer.

his lips met hers, one hand over her throat, squeezing lightly as the other rubbed fast circles on her clit. the sum of the overstimulation brought her to a peak that was different from all the others she’d experienced. 

her legs shook around him, she wanted to moan and whine, but nothing came out. she closed her eyes so tight that she saw stars, burying her nails on his skin, pulling him so close she could feel his heaving breaths. everything inside of her tensed and then relaxed as she came, max's fingers slowed down on her clit, hips rolling agonizingly slow as he fucked his cum back into her quivering pussy, prolonging the shocks of ecstasy running through their veins. 

"i love you," max said, kissing all over every inch of skin on her neck. 

"I love you too, my champion," she smiled, lifting a hand to push his hair back, cupping his cheek, her thumb on the dip of his dimple. 

"not yet," he reminded her.

"the third one is coming. and you're so close to breaking a new record, you're on win number nine in a row. but ten? that's something no one's ever done before."

"yeah," he said, resting next to her, his back against the mattress. he was nervous about beating a record set by someone he admired so much. 

"how about a little incentive?" she said, throwing a leg over his hips, gasping as she felt his cock nestled beneath her folds. 

"i'm listening," he said, reaching for her hands, locking her fingers between hers. she started moving, slowly, back and forth, in circles, on top of his hardening cock. "angel-"

"next sunday, after you win your tenth race in a row," she leaned down, lips on top of his, "you get ten orgasms in one day," she looked up at him, shivering at the way his eyes widened.

"that's… a lot," 

"you don't want it?" she raised an eyebrow, leaning back up. max, in his panicked state, grabbed her hips hard and held her in place.

"i don't know if i could survive ten in one day."

"well it's up to you, it could be… you give me ten, i give you ten, or half and half."

"i like that idea better,"

"which one?"

"you getting ten," it was now her turn to shiver at the idea, but the wetness pooling over max's cock let him know she wasn't too much against that idea. 

"we'll have to wait and see then," she kissed his lips, "but right now let's go for one more tonight."

"just one?" max laughed, his hand slithering down her body to touch her clit again.

ten wins.

ten orgasms.

game on.

[dipperscavern]

dippy I’m sorry I’m a bit stupid I did not read either of the prompt bit 😭 but if possible could I just add a prompt to my previous Cregan bit? If so, ‘voices change around each other’, bc pookie would be all ‘👹👺fuck y’all I am the lord of winterfall RAGGHHH- Oh hi darling 🤗😘’

urs truly, ur very stupid cheeky anon

you’re ALL GOOD!! thank u for your congrats & i hope u enjoy!!

9. voices changing around each other (whether it deepens or their tone in which they speak changes)

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

in cregans defense, he was usually ever level-headed.

being lord of winterfell and warden of the north, you had to be — patience and understanding is cregans middle name. it’s not often he loses his temper, even less often is it unjustified when it happens, and right now, his men had royally fucked up.

winter is approaching, and with it, cregans main task has been securing enough food to last winterfell & its inhabitants for as long as necessary. the maesters can foretell when winter comes and summers ended, but how long winter lasts is never known. strengthening alliances with other houses, expanding food stores, implementing more farms and crop production — cregan had pushed everything else aside to ensure the security of the people.

even if it put pressure on cregans soldiers, his hard work had made it so winterfells’ food stores were filled to the brim — and cregan was looking forward to being able to cease his constant worrying about having enough to eat.

unfortunately for him, the gods see fit to test him once more.

one of his men hadn’t closed a food store properly, and wasn’t aware until cregan himself checked on it a few days later. by then, the food inside of it had rotted.

it wasn’t the guard himselfs fault, as one of cregans council members had failed to instruct the newly appointed guards on how to close the stores properly. in cregans opinion, error truly laid with his council. you cannot expect people to perform properly if not taught or instructed, and this was so simple a lesson, cregan felt frustration at the prospect of having to teach it.

“Am I to understand, that because of your err, we’ve been lessened an entire store?”

the men in front of him glance at one another, attempting to swallow their nerves. the food store was now being emptied in the background, as cregan had not waited to “properly” assemble in the council room. they stood outside, where cregans tone had deepened, the way it does when lord stark is angered (which is, thankfully, not often)

cregan pauses, waiting for a response, and is only offered a- “Yes, I’m afraid so, my lord….”

“Winter is almost upon us, and you intend on crippling me further. How are you meant to advise me if I must coddle you as a babe?” his tone is harsh, unforgiving. he thinks to hear ideas of solution, about what could be done, but cregan notices something else.

instead of looking at him, every man is looking past him instead. ‘have they no respect for their liege lord?’, a part of him whispers; but curiosity takes over. he turns around, and is met with you.

he blinks in surprise. “Wife.” he says, not expecting your presence. his tone is light now, airy — alike to the cregan that usually graces winterfell. the contrast in his voice from a moment ago to now would make some grin if they weren’t afraid of inciting more of their lords anger.

“I missed my lord husband at supper,” you say, as if nothing was even amiss. “You worried me, Cregan.”

cregans tongue darts out to wet his lip, momentarily forgetting about the men behind him. “That was not my intention, I-“ he cuts himself off, turning back for a moment to glance at the food store being emptied. he sighs, choosing his next words carefully.

“I shall join you momentarily.” he says, turning to face you once more.

you hum, reaching to interlock pinkies (you’re close enough to be discreet). you lean to look past cregans shoulders (a hard task), and you’re met with the faces of cregans council. instead of their usual smug-ness, their faces are a mix of awkwardness, discontent, and embarrassment. the sight of it only makes you smirk, and when you return to cregans gaze, you find a hint of bashfulness swimming in his pupils.

“Behave yourself, my love.”

cregan nods, and you shoot him one last knowing smile before you move to return to the castle.

your presence has calmed him, allowing him to think without the cloud of emotions hanging over his head. he turns back around, and shoots a look at his council before focusing all his attention on the nearby food store.

“What can be done?” he says, tone still edgy, but nowhere near what it was before. his council share an equal relief, grateful to their lady stark for her rescue.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed | TUA insert

Chapter: 08

<<previous chapter | next chapter>>

Masterlist

Tw: dead animal and copious amounts of blood

…

“Welcome to The Umbrella Academy, Number Zero.”

“Number Zero, get up.”

“Go to your room Number Zero.”

“Do what you're told, Number Zero.”

“Number Zero! Come here.”

“Stop crying Number Zero.”

“You aren’t a baby Number Zero.”

“No dinner for Number Zero.”

“You're not good enough Number Zero.”

“Stop misbehaving Number Zero.”

Phrases I've heard Reginald say time and time again. I hated that girl Number Zero, whoever she was.

My name is Y/n L/n, and Reginald Hargreeves knew that. But I hated him too because he made me like this. A freak of nature and it was clear he hated me too.

Not once would you ever hear praise and the words ‘Number Zero’ in the same sentence.

So I never understood why he adopted me if he couldn’t stand the sight of me. But deep down I knew why, it was the same reason why he adopted all of us children he needed our powers not us.

He would make me do whatever he wanted without concern or consequence. And nobody would dare tell him no, cause he did the same thing to everyone else around him.

I slept on the cold table for what felt like years, as my mind drifted to days I'd like to forget.

..

17 YEARS AGO

I stood alone in the middle of an unfamiliar room anxious for what was to come. There was no furniture or even windows except for a small wooden desk, and the only glow in said room came from the desk lamp.

Today was my first day of training, Reginald explained to me. And I was a scared twelve-year-old who’d just arrived at the Academy.

He stood in front of me, stopwatch in his bony hand. But he wasn't the only person in the room. There was another man I did not know, and all I can remember about him was how tall he was.

“Begin.”

My stance was shaky as a withering tree when Reginald uttered those words. I didn't know what to do, I just kept standing there. But the man didn't.

He inched closer and closer so I moved back, extremely terrified when it clicked in my head what the man was about to do.

“Do it.”

The man’s steps wavered, but he followed instructions. He raised the gun in his right hand and he shot me.

The sound of the bullet leaving the gun made the room shake and my screaming body instantly hit the cold wooden floor.

Then I heard the stopwatch start.

The bullet hit me directly in the heart. The man must've been some type of trained killer because of the way he would hit me with great accuracy each time. As expected I was still conscious but too scared to move, so I sat there paralyzed and cried. I cried because It hurt. I cried for my mother. I cried because that was all I could do.

Nobody in the room moved; they were waiting for the thing to happen.

And they didn't have to wait that long. At first, it felt like gears were turning in my head. But from the perspective of Reginald the somewhat dark room was illuminated by the swirls of bright light coming from my chest. Then I could move my feet and fingers and I could blink.

I sat upwards from my uncomfortable position as the bullet that had just been in me popped back out. And the spilled blood surrounding my body reversed back into my chest as well as my old bullet wound was completely healed.

I was as good as new.

“Again.”

..

“Number Zero, get up.”

Every day felt like a constant battle. I was beaten, mangled and killed every single day in new sick ways that he came up with.

“We have a lot to work on, Number Zero. You have missed years of training already. You cannot play anymore.”

I went to bed everyday yearning for it to be over but I kept coming back each day for more. I learned to fight from getting my ass kicked. He tested my durability and timed me, by telling me to break my bones and rip off body parts, just to see how long it would take for them to heal.

“You need to be better, Number Zero.”

“I'm trying!” I screamed but it fell on deaf ears. I'd never fought anyone before, he expected everything to be engraved in my head by day five. And when it wasn't he started taking things away.

“No dinner for Number Zero.”

..

I was angry. I threw tantrums, destroyed my room and hurt myself. Which never mattered to him.

“Stop misbehaving Number Zero.”

By thirteen I did what I had to but I tuned the world out. My thought process was whatever happened to me just happens and I'll always be okay.

He turned me into a shell of my past self. Who could kill whoever he needed and get back up whenever pushed down. And I don’t think anybody knew the extent my private lessons were going and I wasn't going to tell them either way.

..

“Number Zero! Come here.”

It wasn't only myself I had to heal, he tried to have me heal others too.

I'd found myself again in the same room where I was first trained. This time accompanied by a dog, I don’t remember what breed he was but he was cute and fluffy and I wished I could keep him.

The same man from before with the same gun stood against the wall.

“Begin.”

The dog was let off his leash and ran towards me. He licked my face, he wanted to play, he was a nice dog.

My happiness didn't last for long, because the man got off the wall and headed towards us. I hugged the small dog hoping that if I held him hard enough he wouldn't do what he was assigned. But that man always followed instructions.

“Do it.”

The fluffy dog was taken out of my arms. He barked in protest and tried to run back over to me but he never made it. He was shot right in his stomach. I burst into tears, trying to run out of the room.

“Stop crying Number Zero. You aren’t a baby.”

Reginald grabbed me and made me face the dying dog. He threw me towards him yelling a command.

“Do what you're told, Number Zero.”

I tried, I honestly did, but I couldn’t do it. No one told me how he just expected me to know how to heal the dog. I've only healed my mother and I wasn't even sure how I did that.

My hands were covered in the dog's blood as I sobbed. I thought if I just thought about it hard it would happen, and yes my hands did flicker but the dog still laid there dead.

“I can’t,” I whispered

I wanted to save that dog. I looked up at the disappointed Reginald, not knowing what to do.

“You're not good enough Number Zero.”

The dog's life force was officially gone. He was the first thing I let die.

I screamed and kicked trying to get my hands back on the dog but I was dragged out of the room.

“Mission one failed,” Reginald said out loud while writing in his book.

..

PRESENT DAY

“Miss Y/n, are you listening?” The ape snapped his fingers in front of my dazed face. I was still on the table in the operations room, and judging by Pogo’s restlessness I'd been here for a while.

I gasped while grabbing onto my head, which still felt partially bashed in. “How long have I been here for?” I asked him.

Pogo’s hairy hands went into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a tiny pocket watch. “Well, Master Diego dropped you off here around Nine pm yesterday and now it’s about a quarter till Nine am. Almost Ten hours Miss Y/n.”

“Ten hours and my head hasn’t healed yet?” My clasped hands moved from my head to my hair as I tugged and worried. “What’s going on with me, a—are my powers not working??” I started to hyperventilate. Without these powers, I'm sure that I’ll succumb to my injuries and die.

The ape shook his head. “Your powers are working just fine, don’t worry my dear. I've been here ever since Master Diego found me and told me of the situation. Your head is healing, yes, but very slowly.”

I didn’t want this to be the end, there was still so much I could do, but then again I've never actually put any thought into how it would go.

Being bludgeoned by a man with a kid’s mask on is not how I'm leaving this world.

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves just as Vanya taught me a while back. Oh shit. “Where’s Vanya?”

Pogo looks away from me. “After the attack on the academy yesterday, your other siblings minus Master Luther deemed it was too risky for her to stay. Because she cannot protect herself like the rest of you..”

“They kicked her out?” I begrudgingly stood up from my seat. “Why do they always do that? I saved her. It's okay now, and she would’ve never gotten hurt if she wasn't looking for me.”

“Miss Y/n please, I don't advise you to leave you aren’t healed. Please sit back down, you can find her later.” He was right, even just standing up took the wind out of me.

Maybe my age was finally catching up with me and this is how my life will continue. I took a seat back down as I finally registered what I was wearing by looking down, I no longer had my jacket. Just jeans and my black shirt.

“Oh! I think Master Diego hung up your jacket back in your bedroom.” Pogo said, sensing my confusion. “It’s a miracle that thing had no blood on it or tears, I know how much that jacket means to you.”

“That’s very nice of him? I didn't know he had it in him.”

“Of course my dear, everyone worries for you. You always took beating after beating with no repercussions. It always amazed me. That being said, you need to be careful.” He explains.

I scratch at my freezing skin. “What?”

“Because you need to take it easy, yes you are formidable but that doesn’t mean you can go around just injuring yourself.” The monkey's accent enunciated every word.

I laugh. “Reginald used to think so.” Pogo stops mid-thought at the mention of him. He looks at me with sorrow in his big eyes. “Never mind that.” He says boldly.

“You took lots of hits yesterday even before getting your head caved in. Other areas of your body heal faster but the brain is such a febrile thing. You need your brain to be able to connect with your powers, being shot once is one thing. But being hit with such intenseness, you're glad your brain was still able to do it. Other times in the future you won't be as lucky, my girl.”

Thank God I stayed awake. No literally thank God, whatever grass field I woke up in felt like death.

“Stay here for maybe five more hours and it should be healed.”

My tense body shivers as I speak up. “Pogo I can’t wait that long, who knows what I missed I need to get back out there.”

“No, I’m prescribing you to stay here and heal your injury.” The short man said.

“Vanya has been kicked out, people just attacked our house, I haven’t seen Klaus and Five forever and who knows what the idiot patrol is going to do next!” I ramble while on my fingers everything that's been going on recently.

He looks up at my disgruntled figure.

“Pogo, please.”

He sighs. “There is a slight alternative, however, it's never been tested and is probably quite painful.” Pogo turns from me to rummage in a few shelves.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I'm afraid you're not going to be happy when you figure out what it is, Miss Y/n.” He yelled from the other side of the room. “I'm sure I've heard worse, Pogo.”

The man returns with an old wooden box covered in small detailed vines. “Your father was always worried that any moment could be your last. For example, If you were too weak to activate your powers or didn’t on purpose.”

“Once you were around fourteen, he started to work on your blood by gathering samples. He did things to alter the samples to create the perfect healing serum or just a boost for your powers.”

I told Pogo I'd be ready for any news but this had been terrifying. “When did he have time to even do that?”

“All of your checkups here in the operations room.” Pogo tilts his head down. “That’s when he would take samples.”

“That is so fucked.” I yell. “How could I have never suspected something was happening when I would be in here almost every day?”

“None of this is your fault, your father just wanted to make sure you're safe. Even if his measures were a bit forward.”

I shake my head at him. “Pogo, this wasn't out of love at all, don't you realize he only did this because he needed me for his purpose? So that I couldn’t get free of this. He only needed me alive for my powers, not because he cared.”

“I assure you your father meant well, somewhere in his heart. But now is the time to use it to speed up the process of your head healing.” Pogo lifts open the top of the box revealing a velvet inside. And rows and rows of tiny indents in the velvet that held little vials of liquid. This liquid looked exactly like my powers, even though it was made out of my normal-colored blood.

It makes me shudder thinking about what he did to it, and me. But I know I had to get it done if I wanted to get out of here. “Okay, so we just inject it into my arm? And I walk out of here after?”

“Not exactly..” says Pogo. “We don't know what could happen, it’s never been tested on anyone. But my best guess is to inject it right into the injury so it will spread there.”

“You mean you're going to stick a needle into my head?” I look at him in horror.

“Why yes, unless you want to take my instructions to wait here for five hours.”

“Grab the needle.”

..

After a bunch of hesitance and worrying Pogo had me lay down on the table fully. He walked up to my indented head with the syringe and without warning stuck it in my head. “Pogo!” I cry out.

The ape didn't respond, instead, he put the box back on the shelf where he got it. “How do you feel?” He asked.

At this point I didn't feel anything different from the splitting headache my broken head was giving me. “I feel the same-“

Then it started to hit me. It felt like a mix of adrenaline and crack all at once.

My powers shined around my head, the healing felt like it was moving faster than I could compute it. It made my body feel like it was on fire, and I signaled that to the ape by screaming out in pain. But it didn't last long because like I said, my powers were moving fast. I blinked and my head felt as good as new.

Pogo stared at me in shock at the display he just watched. “It’s a miracle!” He grins. “How did it feel?”

My eyes darted across the room trying to put into words, outside of my head, how the sensation felt.

“Well I wouldn't recommend it, but it got the job done. Hopefully, I never have to take that again. But thank you Pogo” I reply standing up while my wobbly legs try to position themselves correctly.

“I need to do something that's going to contribute. Either find Five or Vanya or talk to everyone else.” I mutter under my breath.

He stuttered wanting to say more and try to convince me any way he could but my path to the door was clear.

“Thanks again, Pogo!” I shouted over my shoulder. I wasn't even sure how the rest of the mansion would look after the attack, I just wished everyone was okay.

…

Aug 14 update:

If you'd like to be added to the tag list for rest of the series (starts at chapter 10) say taglist in the comments!

[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 2

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: the next day in class, you come face to face with him again. while you don't want to keep running into him, circumstances soon mean that you'll have to spend more time together, much to his delight.

word count: 3.4k

previous chapter

series masterlist

A/N: y'all this chapter took me so long to write. it's more just filler so they don't immediately go from enemies (if i can even call it that) to lovers and i PROMISE things will get better in the next chapter because it kinda starts to go down a little hehe. enjoy<3

warnings: slightly enemies to lovers??? slowburn(ish)????, no use of y/n, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

The next day, you walk into class, your day going a lot smoother than yesterday. You’re a few minutes early, so you take your time getting your stuff out of your bag before you start typing away on your laptop, trying to make yourself look busy.

You’ve almost forgotten about the man you met yesterday, opting not to tell your roommate. You know what she’d say. She’d make you tell her everything about him (and probably find his social medias despite not even knowing his name), and then tell you every single thing she would’ve done if she was in your situation. You’d rather just forget about it, not wanting him to take up any more of your energy.

“Excuse me.” you hear a deep voice say from beside you after a few minutes. You assume it’s someone trying to get by you to sit down in your aisle, so you quickly stand up to get out of his way. As you stand, you steal a glance at him, huffing as you see that it’s the man you ran into yesterday, and a deep frown finds its way onto your face. You sit back down once he’s past you, rolling your eyes when instead of moving down the aisle, he chooses to sit right beside you.

“You look gorgeous today, princess, despite the scowl on your face.” he teases, letting out a soft chuckle at how quickly your face fills with distaste.

“Why are you doing this?” you whisper-yell, turning your head to glare at him. Why does he want to continue with this? You walked away from him yesterday, you thought you were done with him.

“Doing what? I gave a pretty girl a compliment, what’s wrong with that?” he teases softly, a playful glint in his eye as he meets your gaze. Despite his tone, he’s dead serious. He thinks you’re gorgeous, and he’s going to keep talking to you until you believe it. He thought about you all day yesterday, and it’s a miracle you happened to have this class with him too.

“Why are you so interested in me all of a sudden?” you ask as your tense shoulders deflate slightly. You lean further back in your chair, eyes going to the front of the room as the professor walks in. You’re really not feeling argumentative today, so your voice comes out less cold than he’s used to in hopes of your lack of a fight deterring him.

“Because I like a girl with an attitude.” he teases softly, not missing the way your voice is changing as the seconds go by, your attitude crumbling right in front of his eyes. While seeing you with less of an attitude is fun, he wants to take it a step further, not wanting to stop until your attitude is gone and you’re giving him a sweet smile he’s sure will make him fold.

“You’re infuriating.” you get out quietly just as the professor starts speaking. You train your eyes on the professor, trying to ignore the way his arm and thigh are pressed against yours. 

Your professor goes over the plan for the course and the assignment instructions before bringing up the final assignment. Rather than an exam, your class will have an assignment worth 40% of your grade that you have to present during the last week of classes, and you must work with a partner. 

“I’ve decided to make it easy for you. Take a look at the person beside you, they’ll be your partner. I figured I’d get partners out of the way now to make sure no one has an excuse to ask for an extension at the end of the semester. I’ll give you a minute to introduce yourselves and exchange information.” your professor tells the class before turning to her computer. The noise in the classroom increases slightly as people around you start talking to their partners.

Your eyes widen slightly at her words, and you sink further into your chair with a groan as you see him turn to look at you out of the corner of your eye.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me, princess.” he says smuggly, a smirk making its way onto his face. He almost can’t contain his excitement. This is a big assignment, and now, you have to hang out with him for the rest of the semester.

You roll your eyes at his words, and then turn to glare at him, which earns a soft chuckle from his lips.

“We should just get this over with. I’m less busy at the start of the semester anyway, so we should get most of it done early.” you tell him, noticing that he’s being less than subtle as his eyes glance down to your chest. You’re wearing a dress today that’s lower cut than you usually wear, and he had noticed the way your dress hugs your curves as soon as you stood up to let him past you.

“You’re just dying to get me alone, aren’t you?” he teases, his smirk widening at your clear annoyance of being stuck by him. He’s glad you want to get to work so soon; he doesn’t think he can go long without seeing you again, even with the classes you share. “I’m free on Thursday, you can come over and we can start working on it.”

You scoff at his words, rolling your eyes. Of course he wants you at his house. You’re sure you’re not the first girl he’s tried to lure into his house under the guise of doing class work.

“Absolutely not. We’ll meet at the library.” you counter, narrowing your eyes at him, as if daring him to argue.

“Alright, alright. But if you change your mind at any time, the offer still stands,” he says, giving you a wink, and running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He may be teasing, but he means it. He wants to see you in his room, in his bed, and he’s pretty confident that you’ll give in eventually. “I’ll meet you there at 10?” 

“Fine.” You turn your head back to the front of the room, crossing your arms over your chest. You hope he’ll let you be after this, because as much as you don’t like him, you’re afraid that if he keeps complimenting you, you won’t be able to resist him.

“I should probably get your number too, you know, so I can text you. About the assignment.” You tilt your head back at his words and close your eyes, huffing loudly. Mumbling a “fine” as you snatch the phone from his hands and put your name and number into his phone. You shove the phone back at him, and cross your arms again, keeping your eyes glued to the front of the room.

He looks down at his phone as you hand it back, realizing as he reads your name that he hadn’t even noticed that he didn’t know your name until now, his nickname for you just felt right. He mumbles your name as his eyes trace it on the screen, memorizing it. He lets it roll around on his tongue as he gets used to the feel of your name on his tongue.

“I’m Evan, by the way.” he informs you after a moment, licking his lip as he turns to take in your features again, just as the professor begins to speak again.

“Awesome.” you reply sarcastically, opening your laptop again as your professor continues her lecture, ignoring his attention on you.

He doesn’t try to talk to you for the rest of class, both of you sitting silently and taking notes as the professor speaks. You do feel his eyes on you every once in a while, however, and you try to ignore the way your stomach flutters every time you feel his thigh pushing against yours more as the time ticks. It’s like a constant reminder of how close he is to you.

Once class is over, you let out a long sigh as you start putting your stuff back in your bag. He stands up at the same time you do, following you out of the room.

“So, where are you off to? We could-” he starts as he catches up to you, eyes trained on you as you move around people lingering in the hallway.

“I have to go to class.” you say quickly, hoping he gets the hint. You don’t really have class, but even just his presence is making you feel dizzy. He’s so annoying, and yet you can’t help but welcome how he keeps trying to talk to you.

“Sure you do, princess.” he teases. But he doesn’t push further. He slows his pace as you keep walking, checking you out as you walk away, then yells after you. “I’ll see you on Thursday!”

He chuckles softly to himself as you keep walking and pulls out his phone, finding your contact and sending you a quick text. He just wishes you were still right beside him so he could see how you react.

You look down at your phone as it vibrates, seeing a text from an unknown number. Your brows furrow as you open the text, but you roll your eyes once you read the text. You fight back a smile, knowing exactly who it’s from, feeling your face grow hot as you read and reread the text. 

Unknown Number: You look good in that dress by the way, princess ;)

On Wednesday night, after hanging out with your roommate for a few hours, you get ready for bed. You still haven’t told her about Evan, as you really don’t want to hear everything she would undoubtedly say about him. You had previously learned that talking about someone only makes you think of them more, so you decide it would be better to not talk about him at all with anyone. Once you shower and do your night routine, you get into bed. You’re almost asleep when you hear your phone vibrate beside you. You huff, rolling over and picking up your phone to read the text. 

Evan: Are we still meeting at the library tomorrow, or have you already deleted and blocked my number?

You: Unfortunately, I can’t do that until after this semester is over

Evan: Good. I get to see your cute angry face until the end of the semester ;)

You: I’m going to bed now.

Evan: Oh, are you? Are you in bed right now?

You: Yes.

Evan: What are you wearing?

You: Goodnight, Evan.

Evan: Goodnight, princess.

He chuckles softly at your texts, knowing his teasing is getting a rise out of you. He lays in his bed, wondering what exactly you’re doing right now. Are you smiling? Are you rolling your eyes? Maybe both, he’s not sure. He knows he wants to see you right now. Better yet, he wants you in his bed instead, laying under him with his hand over your mouth so you don’t wake up his roommates. He smirks at the thought, closing his eyes as he imagines how you would react as he trails kisses down your body. How your plush body would feel under his hands. He drifts off to sleep very easily.

You can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face as you read his texts. You shake your head and put your phone back down on your table and lay back down on your back, staring at the ceiling. He really needs to stop doing this. You’re afraid that pretty soon, your roommate will catch on, or see a text from him, and then you really won’t be able to hide your growing feelings. You have a hard time sleeping that night, unable to get your mind off of him and his stupid texts.

The next day, you drag yourself out of bed far later than when your alarm goes off. You think you snoozed it twice, but when you finally unlock your phone and check the time, you realize you had snoozed it for 40 minutes. You get out of bed quickly and go to the bathroom to get ready, hoping he wouldn’t give you an attitude for being a few minutes late. Once you get ready and change, you grab your bag and head out the door, walking quickly to the library.

You groan as you walk into the library, seeing him already there and leaning against the wall, staring at his phone. As if he senses your presence, he looks up at you, a smirk forming on his face as his eyes quickly trace over your figure and he shoves his phone in his pocket.

“Rough night, princess?” he teases, pushing off the wall and walking towards you. He’s met with a scowl as you look up at him, huffing as you walk right past him and further into the library.

“Shut up, I didn’t have time to make coffee this morning. Let’s get this over with.” you grumble over your shoulder, going over to the elevator.

“Yes ma’am.” he hums, turning to follow you. You both get in the elevator and you press the button for the group study floor before crossing your arms over your chest and tapping your foot lightly. He chuckles at this, licking his lips before speaking.

“You’re cranky in the morning, huh?” he states, mirroring your stance and crossing his arms over his chest. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you really hated me.”

“It’s a little bit of both, I guess.” you murmur, stepping off the elevator as it gets to the 5th floor. He chuckles under his breath as he follows you, shaking his head. He’ll just have to give you a little while to wake up before he continues, he thinks, not wanting to dig the hole any deeper and make you actually hate him.

Once you’re set up at an empty table, sitting beside each other, you begin talking about the assignment, not wanting to waste any time. He surprisingly doesn’t give you any smartass remarks as you speak, and even gives you a few ideas for the assignment. Honestly, you’re a little surprised. From looking at him, you sort of assume he would make you do everything yourself, but he seems willing to put in the work. He seems to know his stuff too. He isn’t as dumb as you thought he may be. Maybe that’s not very nice of you, but you can’t help but think of him as one of those guys that only got into this school because they’re good at football.

You lighten up after a few hours of working together, giving him a few soft smiles as he slowly starts joking and flirting with you. He can tell that you’re still a little shy, as you keep trying to hide your smile by looking away from him, but he can see it. He wants to see it more, but he can also tell that you’re still trying to keep your walls up, despite his best efforts.

“You know, you’re a lot more fun when you don’t have that little attitude.” he tells you after a few minutes of silence. You look up at him, narrowing your eyes slightly as you fight back a smile by pursing your lips. 

“You’re a lot less annoying when you’re not being such a guy.” you counter, a small smirk making its way onto your face as his face scrunches up in confusion.

“What does that even mean?” he asks with a small chuckle, turning in his chair to face you completely, your assignment forgotten.

“Exactly what I said. You’re only focused on yourself. You walk around like no one else matters but you. And if I had to guess, you’re on some sort of sports team too, right?” you say, shutting your laptop slowly, turning your upper body towards his with an eyebrow raised.

“Uh, yeah. Football.” He’s confused at where you’re going with this, but he’s curious to know more. Maybe he’ll find out why you’re resisting giving into him so much.

“Exactly. All athletes carry themselves the same: like they’re too good for everyone around them because you’re good at whatever you do. That’s how you were when we met. Acting like the world revolved around you.” you explain, moving your arms as you speak. He raises his brows in surprise, and his smirk grows as he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

“I was not. You were. You practically bit my head off after you bumped into me.” he argues, keeping a smile on his face, letting you know that he isn’t seriously upset about it. As much as he likes the softer exterior you’ve had the last few hours, he thinks it’s fun when you argue with him.

“Okay, whatever.” you mumble, turning back to your laptop and opening it again. Did he have to keep reminding you of that? It was a bad thing to do, you know that, and you just want to forget how you acted when you met him. It wasn’t like anything you’d do normally.

“Nuh uh. Come on, don’t shut back down again. I’m not holding it against you. It was cute.” he tells you quickly, noticing the way you’re slowly starting to close yourself off again. He nudges your arm with his, hoping you’ll look back up at him as he ducks his head, hoping to meet your eyes.

“Yeah, and it was really cute when you trapped me in the classroom so you could tell me that it was all my fault.” you say softly as you tilt your head up to look into his eyes, your eyes narrowed slightly as you bite the inside of your cheek. You aren’t sure what to make of his words. Why the hell did he keep complimenting you like this?

“So, you think I’m cute?” he teases, leaning onto the table and resting his chin on his folded arms. You scoff softly, laughing as you turn back to your laptop, going back to your assignment research.

You work for another few minutes in silence as he stays in the same position, eyes glancing between your face and your laptop screen every once in a while. You think he’s finally got all the talking out of his system when he speaks again in a softer voice.

“You really don’t like me much, do you?” Your eyes soften at his words as a quiet sigh escapes your lips. You close your laptop again and peer down at him, taking a moment to gather your thoughts.

“I don’t not like you. It’s just, I don’t understand why you’re doing this.” you say softly, tilting your head to the side as you look down at him. You can tell that he really is trying not to be a dick to you, and when he’s looking at you with those big blue eyes, you feel a little bad about how you’re treating him.

“Doing what?” he asks curiously, lifting his head from the table and putting a hand under his chin to rest his head. He tilts his head the same way as you, hoping that if he stares long enough into your eyes, he’ll understand your feelings towards him. “This. I don’t know,” you start, gesturing to him with your hands outstretched. “First, you were a dick, and now you’re trying to, like, get to know me or something. I kinda thought you’d just make me do the entire assignment by myself.” you explain, looking down at the table, laughing softly at your last sentence. He scoffs and puts a hand to his chest, as though your words physically wounded him.

“You hurt me, princess. I’m not a complete douchebag.” he tells you, and although his voice has a teasing tone, his eyes show a glint of hurt at your words. He truly hadn’t meant to be a dick; he was merely trying to get you to keep talking to him. Maybe you aren’t like some of the girls he’s used to. Maybe he has to try a different approach, he thinks.

“Yeah, we’ll see.” you hum softly, turning your attention back to your laptop, trying to fight back a smile. 

Okay, maybe he’s not as bad as you thought.

next chapter

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[xoluvx]

earn it; b.eilish

Request: hi! if you're not too caught up with other fics, would u be able to write a little one-shot where reader has a had a bad day at work & when she comes home, billie is acting like a brat and making readers day worse, so when billie does something that crosses the line, reader decides to punish her? thank u sm, i love your writing style!🤍

a/n: thank you bb ily 🤍

The entire day, all you could think about was your bed. You wanted nothing more than to be curled up in it and have your favorite girl make you forget all about your shitty day.

But that hadn't been the case. You'd gotten home and the last thing on the list was going to bed. Billie was being a brat, and normally you wouldn't have minded, but you really just wanted to be in bed. It got to the point where you couldn't handle it anymore so you snarled in her face.

"What do you want, huh?" you growled knowing now exactly what she wanted. It was so obvious by the way her body quivered when you sneered in her face.

"Fuck me, please" she begged out of breath.

"Oh, you just want to get fucked?" you chuckled against her cheek, applying pressure to her neck. Billie's mouth fell open and she held your wrist nodding her head desperately.

"That's all you had to say, baby." Your voice was low laced with a fake sweetness that made Billie's insides churn. "But instead you were such a brat," you answered lips pressed to her temple.

"So you have to earn your orgasm tonight angel," you gritted your teeth kissing her cheek again, this time it was an open mouth kiss that caused Billie moan. Getting distracted by her neck, you kissed the tender skin. You felt when she gulped.

"Do you think you can do that?" You asked releasing her neck and cupping her jaw forcing her to keep eye contact. Billie nodded, her body shaking in euphoric anticipation.

"Words," you stroked her flushed cheek.

"Yes," she choked.

"Yes, what?" you smirked focusing on her lips. Her beautifully plump lips.

"Yes, ma'am," she added and you smiled with satisfaction.

"Good," you patted her cheek before removing your clothes. Then you worked on taking off her clothes making sure to only leave her in just her underwear.

"These come off each time I cum," you ran your hand over the lacy material. Your finger hooked on the elastic of her thong before releasing it with a snap. Billie shivered and nodded at your instructions.

"Where do we start?" you asked cocking your head to the side.

"On the bed," Billie's voice was soft and submissive.

"Okay, what are we gonna do on the bed?" you asked loving the way she squirmed.

"I'm gonna eat you out," she cleared her throat hoping that was the answer you wanted to hear. You didn't care. You lived for this side of Billie. You dwelled in the punishment and the squirming.

"Okay, and what?" you asked again sitting on the bed spreading your legs for her. Billie marveled at your wet pussy waiting for her.

"And I'm gonna make you cum," she replied walking towards you.

"Okay, we'll see about that." You hummed contently watching her kneel between your legs.

She started by kissing the inside of her thigh, her lips inching closer to your pussy with each kiss. Her thumb ran between your folds and you moaned happily. Billie took this as a good sign and ran with it. Her tongue soon found its place on your pussy. She ran it between your folds lapping your sweetness.

Pressing her face closer, she focused on your clit. Her tongue furiously flicking your bud until she felt your hand on her head. You pulled softly on her hair, arching your back.

"Take your time, baby" you sang curling your toes. Billie pushed her tongue in your pussy and you moaned again.

"Fuck," you cursed pushing your hips towards her face. Her nose pressed against your pussy, tongue fucking into you. Each new stroke more intense than the previous.

"Right there, right there-" you shut your eyes feelings the sparks course through your body as you clung to her head. Billie's eyes were closed focusing on your pussy. She felt the way your legs quivered when she hooked them in her arms bringing herself closer to your pussy. With a few more strokes of her tongue, you were convulsing in her arms. She rest her tongue on your entrance loving the way you throbbed on her tongue.

When you let your body fall on the bed, she hovered over you watching your spent face.

"Was that good?" she asked and your eyes shot open. You pushed her back trying to recuperate your strength.

"I ask the questions here," you asserted your dominance forcing her to stand. You stood behind her, holding her arms against her back. Her fingers tried to spread across your torso behind her back, but you were too close for them to make any actual movement. Not that you would've allowed it.

Pushing her hair over her shoulder, you kissed her neck. Your kisses trailed her soft skin until your lips were near her bra strap. Your teeth grazed her skin as you tugged on the strap letting it fall off her shoulder. You let go of her arms, but they were still pressed between your bodies. Your hands cupped her breasts squeezing and pressing until you freed them from the restricting fabric.

Billie sighed with relief and you pinched her nipples only eliciting a whiny moan.

"You earned this," you whispered in her ear and Billie shivered. You moved your body releasing her arms so you could unhook her bra. When it was unhooked, you slipped it down her arms letting it fall on the floor.

You sat on the bed, bringing her between your legs. Her hands rested on your shoulders as you held one of her breasts bringing it to your mouth. You sucked on her nipple before releasing it with a pop repeating the same action on the other. Billie held your head as she watched your tongue swirl on her nipple. She wanted that, but between her legs.

"You have to make me cum again if you want these off," you spoke against her nipple tugging at her underwear as if reading her mind. Billie whimpered and you slapped her tit ensuing a string of moans from her part. You squeezed her breasts one last time before leaning back on the bed.

"What now?" you asked looking at her through hooded lids. You bit your bottom lip waiting for her response.

"Strap," she chocked as you looked at the mark you'd left on her right breast.

"Okay," you sighed laying down on the bed but still propping your body with your elbows so you could watch her. You watched her walk to the drawer pulling out the strap.

"Come here," you snarled and Billie obeyed. You snatched the strap from her hand.

"Step in," you commanded as you held the harness open for her. Billie stepped in. You buckled it for her making sure it was secure. Then you slapped her ass for good measure and laid down again opening your legs watching her closely. You swore you saw her gulp as she climbed on top of you.

"Don't be gentle," you teased as she hiked your leg up. Billie nodded and you smirked as she ran the tip of the fake dick between your folds. She entered you slowly pressing her body against yours when she bottomed out. You hummed in delight loving the way she filled you.

"Move," you instructed and Billie moved. She thrusted timidly at first then slowly increased the pace until she settled on a semi-fast and rough rhythm. She held one of your legs against her body, the other still laying on the bed. She kissed your calf as your bodies slapped.

Remembering your 'don't be gentle' comment from either, she wrapped on hand around your neck. Your eyes shot open. Billie watched you. You normally wouldn't have allowed it, but it felt too good combined with the pace at which she was fucking and if you were being honest, you were ready to fuck her so -

You felt the coil tightening inside. You were hot. So incredibly hot and you needed to cum. You couldn't hold it anymore.

When you unraveled for the second time, you pushed her away too sensitive to touch.

Billie waited for you to talk.

"Come here," you motioned out of breath. Billie did as she was told. You took the strap off, kneeling on the bed weakly. You put it on, fastening it before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"On your knees," you hummed and Billie nodded placing her hands on your knees as she knelt in front of you.

"Suck," you grunted. Her lids fluttered and she obliged taking the entire cock in her mouth. A guttural moan escaped her throat upon tasting you on the dildo. You winced still sensitive from your orgasm. But marveled at the way her head bobbed repeatedly. You held the back of her head pushing your hips up to match her movements.

Your fingers laced through her hair as you pushed her down on the fake cock. Billie gagged and you lifted her head watching her eyes fill with tears, saliva trickling down her mouth.

"You okay?" you asked and she nodded holding your thighs. She opened her mouth again and you grabbed the fake dick with your free hand. You slapped it on her tongue and she moaned feeling the flood between her legs.

"Good girl," you cooed pulling her hair once last time.

"Stand."

Billie stood still as you pulled her by her underwear.

"I'm gonna fuck you now okay?" you cooed pulling down her underwear. Billie nodded shivering. She was so wet and so desperate she could hardly think, let alone speak.

You stood grabbing her hand switching positions. She laid on the bed, her hair fanning out on the sheets. She raised her arms pushing her breasts up and you drooled at the sight. When you opened her legs you nearly came. You could almost physically see her pussy throbbing, she was soaked and ready for you.

Grabbing her legs, you pulled her towards the edge of the bed. She squealed a little and you held her thighs as you slid into her pussy with ease. Billie brought a hand down to touch your hip.

Then you fucked into her like there was no tomorrow. She was a sobbing mess, moans sharp and frequent. Her tits bounced with each thrust and her eyes glistened with tears. She begged you to go faster and you happily gratified her requests.

She'd earned it, after all.

[dizzyjelly]

Kryptonite(18+)

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: ellie hated everyone, except you. You go out to the bar one night and some guy bothers you, she punched his ass ofc. You get into a small fight but then you guys go back to her place and things get freaky;)

Cw: fighting, drinking, smut, strap-on sucking, strap-on sex, scissoring, rough sex, degrading, praising, spanking, the tiniest bit of overstimulation

A/n: ooh this is seriously dirtyyy! 😭 sorry if I missed any content warnings but I really think that's all. Also, I've been going back to my previous fics and rereading and I just now realize I misspell so much and like forget words, so I'm sorry for all my grammar fuck ups lmao

Ellie Williams was many things, but nice was not one of them. People usually tried to steer clear of her, knowing her mood was negative more often than not. But of course, there was the occasional time when somebody made the mistake of trying to be friendly with her. It typically ended with Ellie cursing them out, or insulting them somehow. And then you'd come around, always calming her down and putting a smile on her face.

Everybody found it odd, from the minute you'd been welcomed to Jackson, Ellie was always so sweet to you. It honestly had jaw dropping, everyone was shocked to say the least. On top of that, it made no sense. I mean, some random girl comes into town and she just happened to be Ellie Williams kryptonite? Absolutely zero sense.

Nobody dared to question it though, and anytime they did Ellie had a lot to say. The main point she'd give was that it was simply 'none of their fucking business', among other things. You, yourself, found it a bit odd. You'd heard stories about Ellie from various people around town, and it was hard to believe she could be so harsh and mean. Was she really as cruel as they'd said? You'd never know, because she was nothing but kind to you.

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

After deciding to get ballsy on patrol, Ellie was sentenced to the unbearable punishment of laundry duty for a week. The only good part of it being that she got to see you, you had been a clothing designer before all this apocalypse shit happened so you knew a lot about clothing. This being the reason for your permanent work assignment staying laundry duty, you'd requested that it be permanent. Maria had no issue doing thst for you, and you were beyond thankful. You and no interest in getting yourself into any kind of danger, doing patrol or something else.

Currently, Ellie was trying to figure out what the hell she was supposed to do with the laundry detergent. She looked at the various bottles, grabbing then to read the instructions on the back. After a minute of trying to comprehend what she was meant to do, she let out a frustrated sigh before slamming the yellow bottle back in its place on the shelf.

"I could help you out, you know?" A brunette boy suggested with a sweet smile, he was younger and very clearly meant no harm.

"Fuck off" She scoffed harshly, "I don't need your help." Her tone was aggressive as she walked back over to the baskets of clothing.

She decided to sort them by color instead, that was something she was capable of. Five minutes or so passed and you came in, late. Very unusual for you, you were one of those people who was either early or on time. But late, you were never late. Ellie's face immediately lit up when she saw you, she smiled from ear to ear as she ran over to pull you in for a hug.

"Oh, hi" You laughed, wrapping your own arms around the girl, "somebody missed me." You joked.

"Shut up" She smirked at you, rolling her eyes, "why are you late? You're never late." She asked, a hint of worry in her tone.

"Um, I was just talking to Gavin, guess I got caught up." Your cheeks flushed red, Gavin was the guy you had a crush on for weeks now.

Ellie couldn't wrap her head around why, he was such a dick. Not that you'd be able to figure that out by the way he acted. He pretended to be a nice, caring guy. But he wasn't either of those things. And since he had you in a chokehold, for some unknown reason, you'd have to find that out the hard way. Ellie tried to tell you, relaying stories she'd heard from friends who'd been with him. But you were just lovesick.

"Oh, k." Her smile dropped now, and she spoke monotonly as she had no interest in why you were so busy talking with Gavin.

You furrowed your brows slightly at her sudden change in demeanor, but ultimately you ignored it. Smiling, you walked over to greet Samuel, the brunette boy who'd usually help you out with laundry.

"Good afternoon, Samuel! How are you today?" You asked, but he seemed kinda down.

He hadn't given you an answer, just shrugged, so you walked over to him and asked what was up. He motioned for you to lean in, so that he could whisper in your ear. Samuel told you about how Ellie had told him to 'fuck off.' And you let out a dramatic gasp.

"Ellie Williams! Did you tell my sweet bo Samuel to fuck off?" You asked sternly, hands on you hips as you made your way over to the girl.

She bit her lip, her cheeks flushed red as she knew she'd been caught.

"Maybe... I'm sorry!" She apologized with a frown, looking at you with pleading eyes.

"Do not talk to my sweet little helper that way, he's my friend." You scolded her just a bit more, and she nodded in understanding.

"Oh, hey could you help me with the detergent? I'm not really sure what to use." She asked you, pointing her thumb in the direction of the shelf filled with various laundry detergents.

"Yes, if you promise to be nicer to my dear friend Samuel." You raised your brows.

"Promise..." She smiled with a playful eye roll.

You proceeded to help her with the detergent, making sure she'd remember for next time. Ellie would continue her work duties, bored out of her mind as she prayed to be let back onto patrol early for good behavior. At a certain point in the day, she'd just be eyeing the clock, counting down the hours until she could finally be free from this torture. You, however, didn't mind the job one bit. It actually brought you joy, helped you to relax even. It reminded you of the days before.. everything.

Once it did fall time to clock out, Ellie was quick to rush out of the laundry area, waiting for you outside. You'd chuckle to yourself and shake your head, she was so dramatic. On your way out, you waved a goodbye to Samuel then smiled as you found Ellie leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

"Hey, wanna go to the bar?" She asked with a cheeky smile.

You sighed through your nose, hesitant as Ellie was a terrible drunk.

"Fine. But Ellie, please don't get too drunk." You asked, taking her hands in your own.

"Ok... come on." She smiled as she held your hand and walked the two of you to the bar.

Once you got there, you took seats at the bar and Ellie ordered for the both of you. Alcohol wasn't really your thing, but she seemed to know her way around it pretty well. And you trusted her, which was a good choice because when you took a sip of your drink it was absolutely delicious. After another drink and the passing of some time, Gavin had made an appearance.

You saw him and a smile spread across your face, your eyes lit up and your knees felt weak. Ellie took notice to your mood change, following your eyes to see the man himself. She rolled her eyes and let out a small groan as she rested her head in her hand. You turned back around, sipping from your drink and trying to act cool. Then, Gavin had come to sit beside you.

"Hey Y/n, how you doing?" He greeted, the sound of his voice had you giggling.

"Hi, I'm good. How are you?" You asked in return, playing with your hair a bit.

"Oh I'm doing just great. Who's your friend?" He asked, gesturing to Ellie who was now on her third drink.

You sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.

"Oh, this is-" Ellie had cut you off.

"I'm Ellie." She answered him with a harsh tone.

"Well, nice to meet ya Ellie" Gavins voice trailed off as he looked at the door, "I've gotta go." He sent a little wave your way.

You waved back with furrowed brows, then frowned as he was meeting a girl who just walked in. She was pretty, long blonde hair and a striking figure. You sighed, dropping your head down on the bar with a groan. Ellie sighed.

"What's wrong?" She asked in a soft tone, bringing a hand to rub up and down your back soothingly.

"I'm a fucking idiot." Was all you muttered, not picking your head up until a minute later.

You turned around and honestly felt like you could cry when you saw the two of then dancing together, he had his hands on her waist and pulled her unbelievably closer. She laughed as her hands wrapped around the back of his neck. You turned back to look at Ellie, the pout on your face more evident than anything.

"Oh, come on, he's an asshole anyways" Ellie rolled her eyes, glancing over at the dancing pair, then she stood and reached out a hand, "come on baby, dance with me."

You smiled, placing your hand in hers and letting out a small laugh as she pulled you to stand with her. At first, you just held hands and bounced around to some faster songs. But then about two songs later, a slower song came on. Your cheeks flushed red and you took a step back, only for Ellie to snake a hand around your waist and pull you closer.

"Ellie.. what are you doing?" You whispered as she held your waist and pulled you in tight, so that you were practically hugging.

"Dancing." She whispered in return.

You giggled and brought your arms around her shoulders, leaning in so your head rested on one of them. Ellie smiled as her eyes fell shut, your perfume greeting her kindly. You sighed as you relaxed under her touch, nobody could make you feel the way she did. Her hands found their way to your lower back, rubbing small circles onto it. You'd nuzzle your face in her neck, smiling as you brought your hands to play with her hair.

"Fuck Y/n.." Ellie groaned under her breath.

You giggled, lifting your head to meet her eyes. She looked at you like you were the only girl in the world. You looked down at your feet, then back at her. Your breath hitched as your eyes couldn't seem to focus on hers anymore, but rather on her slightly chapped lips. She had to have noticed because a smirk slowly formed on her face. Before you'd do anything you would regret, you stepped back from her. The loss of her touch left you feeling empty, but you would ignore it and just smile as you excused yourself.

"I have to use the bathroom." You simply said, and she took a seat at the bar once again as you made your way to the restroom.

You didn't actually have to go, so instead you washed your hands underneath cold water. And you splashed some on your face for good measure, you'd been getting unbelievably hot during your dance with Ellie. Once you could no longer feel your heart beating in your ears, you left the bathroom to return to Ellie. Unfortunately, there had been someone waiting for you outside.

"Hey, you know you look really good tonight." Gavin spoke smugly as he leaned against the wall.

"Yeah? Thanks." You scoffed, "shouldn't you be getting back to your date?" You spoke matter of factly, trying to push past him.

Your efforts didn't get you much of anywhere, his hand now finding a tight grip on your forearm while the other went to hold your face. You rolled your eyes with a frustrated sigh.

"Ok, come on Gavin I'm really not in the mood." You spoke coldly, willing him to just take the hint and leave you alone.

He tsked, leaning down to whisper in your ear,

"Come on angel, just let me show you a good time." You shuddered at his words, disgusted.

That was your last straw and you found the energy to shove him off of you and into the wall with a hard thud. Then, you saw Ellie turning the corner, her fists balled at her sides as her brows knitted together with anger.

"The fucks going on here?" She asked gruffly.

"Ellie, it's nothing. I'm fine." You placed a hand on her chest, trying to convince her.

Of course it didn't work because the next thing you knew you were watching as she punched Gavin so hard he'd fallen over. Her knuckles were red, and his face began to bruise.

"Ellie!" You screamed as your hands went over your mouth in shock.

Before she could get any other hits in, you'd held her by her shoulders as you dragged her outside. She yelled at the poor guy the entire time. Sending a good amount of threats his way.

"What is wrong with you!" You shouted at the girl as the two of you now stood outside in the chilly night.

"Me? He deserved it and you know it!" She'd shouted back, gesturing with her hands, something she did often when she was angry.

"Yeah maybe, but still! You can't just go around punching every guy that bothers me, I can take care of myself you know?" Your hands were on your hips.

"Oh god, this again? I can't keep having this fucking conversation with you, Y/n!" She gritted her teeth.

"What conversation? The one where I have to constantly remind you that I'm a full grown adult, and I am entirely capable of taking care of and defening myself? I mean seriously Ellie, what's the problem? Do you think that I can't take care of myself?" You asked with a frustrated sigh.

"What, no! Of course I know you can, but I just- I care about you a lot and you shouldn't have to take care of yourself. It makes me feel good to defend you, I don't know why it just does. And I'm... sorry." Sge struggled to get the apology out.

"It's ok. Let's just go home, sleep it off." Your suggestion sounded good, but Ellie stopped you with a hand on your wrist.

"Wait." You looked at her with questioning eyes, wondering what else she had to say.

Turns out, she didn't have anything to say. Instead, she had brought one hand to your waist and the other to the back of your neck. She bit her lip, her eyes flickering between your own and your lips. After a minute or so had passed, she just couldn't resist. She pulled you in and connected her lips with yours, kissing you like it was the end of the world.

"Ellie~" You whined as you parted from the kiss for a moment, immediately diving back in.

This time, you pressed your tongue to her bottom lip. And she gladly let you in, opening her mouth wide so she could taste your tongue on hers. It was something from another world, you'd felt dizzy and giddy, and there was something else too. There was this heat between your legs, it almost hurt. You whimpered into her mouth at the unfamiliar feeling.

"What's wrong baby?" She asked, her forehead resting against yours.

"I don't know, 's all achy down there." You admitted, embarrassed as you'd only dare to stare down at her shoes.

Ellie let out a sinful chuckle,

"Well, I think I could help with that." She gave you one last kiss before taking you to her house.

You stood in her living room, your hand coming to scratch the back of your neck awkwardly as she rushed upstairs to grab 'a little something special' from her room. You'd wondered what she could be grabbing, but not for long as she returned swiftly without her bottoms now and a large black strap tightened around her hips. Your eyes widened at the sight of it, and you knew you wanted it inside of you. Your mouth watered at just the thought of her fucking your brains out.

She walked over to you with a smirk, pulling you in for yet another kiss. You smiled into it, letting out small moans here and there as the taste of her tongue felt so good against your own. You'd sighed as she pulled your top off, now placing kisses along your jaw and neck. It wasn't long before she was placing feather light kisses to the top of your boobs, then palming them roughly as she watched your face contort with pleasure.

"Get on your knees." She ordered after a minute, and you were quick to oblige.

Getting down on the floor, you looked up at Ellie with lustful eyes. She grabbed a fistful of your hair, taking a step closer to you as she held her strap in the other hand. You licked your lips before chewing slightly at your bottom one.

"Open that pretty little mouth of yours for me baby." She cooed, her hand tightening in your hair as you'd opened wide.

She chuckled as she pushed her cock into your mouth, watching with nothing but joy as she shoved it as far as it could go. You'd gagged, unable to help it, then you let out a small whimper which was muffled by her large cock. She groaned at this, tugging your hair a bit, which brought a lengthy moan from your lips.

"Fuck baby, look at you being a good little slut. Taking my cock down your throat so well. Good girl." The praise she'd given you had gotten you even wetter, if that was even possible.

Ellie would continue to move your head up and down for a bit longer until she was satisfied, carefully she removed her hand from your hair and let you pull back. Your lips left her cock with a satisfying pop sound and she smiled sinfully as she pulled you to stand. She brought a hand to your chin, wiping your saliva that had dripped down your chin while you were kept busy deep-throating her.

She'd snaked her hands around you now, gripping at your ass before giving it a harsh smack that made your body jolt with pleasure and excitement. Another kiss was brought to your lips by her, but not for long as you'd pulled away quickly.

"Ellie, please." You whimpered, she only let out a small chuckle.

"Please what? Use your words baby." She kept a finger under your chin.

"Please," another moan, "fuck me. Fuck me good and hard, please I need you." You were begging shamelessly now, and she loved it.

"Well, aren't you cute. Your wish is my command, princess." She smiled as she backed you up to the couch, lying down before pulling you on top of her.

You sat straddling her for a minute, she rubbed your thighs with her hands soothingly before ridding you of both your jeans and panties in just one motion. You bit your lip as she held your hips, lifting you so the head of her strap just grazed your dripping hole. She'd continue to tease you for what felt like ages, before you just couldn't take it anymore so you'd taken it upon yourself to lower down onto her cock. You threw your head back with a loud, pornagraphic moan as you felt the burning stretch inside of you.

Ellie scoffed,

"Did I say you could do that? Eager little slut, you're gonna regret that." She groaned as you continued making the sweetest sounds as she gripped your hips harder.

She'd waste no time, immediately thrusting into you roughly and at a fast pace that had your head spinning. Occasionally, she'd bring a hand up from your hip to place a firm smack against your ass, in the same spot every time. You were sure there'd be a mark, but you didn't care because it felt so fucking good. Then, she'd angled herself just ever so slightly differently and began to hit a spot that you didn't even know existed.

"Oh, oh god! Fuck yes, right there Ellie. Fuckk." You moaned as you called out her name, your hands finding their way to her chest as you began to grind your hips down against her.

"Oh yeah, you like that slut?" She asked, using the rather vulgar name that only got you hotter.

You nodded, feeling as if your vision went hot white at the pleasure you were feeling. It was so phenomenal, you almost thought you mightve been dreaming. But then, she stopped and held your hips tightly so you couldn't move an inch.

"Fucking answer me." She commanded.

"Yes yes. Yes I love it. Please keep going. Please." You whimpered, tears welling in your eyes.

"That's my girl." She smiled as she resumed her rough thrusts, loosening her grip on your hips so you could rut against her as well.

She bit back a moan as the strap had been hitting against her clit just right, that and the sight of you was more than enough to make her cum. The way your tits bounced underneath your scarlet red lace bra, and how beautiful your face looked as you moaned loudly. And oh the way you said her name was just so fucking sexy.

"Ellie- I'm gonna" your breath hitched with a gasp, "fuck 'm gonna cum." your moans got even louder somehow.

"Me too baby, come on cum with me. Come on baby." She'd finally let out a small moan and that sent you over the edge.

However you didn't just cum, you were gushing all over her beautifully long strap as well as her thighs. Ellie moaned louder at the sight of you squirting all over her cock, and then got her own release. She didn't stop pounding into you as she rode out her own high, and it didn't take long before you were feeling overstimulated. But you'd do anything to watch as her eyes squeezed shut with the pleasure of her orgasm.

"Mmn- fuck." She let out a small groan as she removed her cock from your hole, a small string of your slick connecting it still.

You let out a small sigh of exhaustion as you layed against her chest, smiling as her hands came to rub up and down your back. You lied there together for a minute or so before she finally spoke.

"Let's go to my room." She whispered, and you didn't say anything in return.

You'd just followed her upstairs and watched as she removed her strap, sitting on the bed and patting the spot next to her. You joined her and sat with your back against the headboard, leaning forward as she came to kiss you. You'd pulled at her shirt and giggled a bit as she ripped it off, revealing her black sports bra. Then, she'd used one hand to spread your legs before getting into position.

One of her legs straddled your hip, a hand on your shoulder and the other on your waist. Her eyes fell shut as she let out an airy moan when she'd ground her throbbing clit against your own, and you'd let out a similar sound.

"Fuck, baby. Your pussy feels so good against mine." She bit her lip, letting out more moans as she thrusted against you.

Sure, the way Ellie had pounded into you earlier was amazing and beyond pleasurable. But there was just something so euphoric about her sopping wet pussy gliding against your own. The feeling of your slicks mixing together just drove you insane. Apparently it had the same effect on Ellie because she was louder than ever, moaning and whimpering with great pleasure.

Your breath quickened as you felt yourself getting close again, and began to move your own hips against her as well. This made Ellie let out a guttural groan.

"Oh yeah, just like that baby." She said in an almost whisper, her eyes falling shut with pleasure.

And with a few more thrusts, the both of you reached yet another release. Now you weren't the only one making noise, Ellie was moaning while also letting out "thank you's and 'fuck's. After fully riding out your highs, Ellie lied down next to you. She brought a hand to wipe her forehead, it dribbled with sweat and her hair stuck to it a bit.

You felt your eyes vetting heavy, snuggling against Ellies side as you let them fall shut. She'd hold you for a minute before standing up.

"Don't fall asleep yet, baby. I wanna get you cleaned up first." She placed a kiss to your forehead, going to the bathroom then returning with a wet rag.

She wiped you down gently, placing soft kisses along your body on the way. Once she finished that, she'd given you a t-shirt of hers to wear to sleep. She climbed back into bed, pulling you to lay on her chest. You snuggled your head into the crook of her neck, bringing your hands to wrap around her shoulders.

"Goodnight Els." You said sleepily.

"Goodnight baby." She responded with a kiss on top of your head.

[blackdollette]

"got your bible, got your gun." || part five.

꒰ ៹ . "𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 .𝟑𝟖 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐒."

tough. - lana del rey + quavo

୨୧˖-ׁ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: practice makes perfect...

꒰ ៹ . ୨୧˖ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: new ! bau ! female ! reader x jealous ! spencer

꒰ ៹ . ୨୧˖ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

꒰ ៹ . ୨୧˖ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: possibly fluffy, somewhat playful banter

ㅤㅤㅤ꒰ ៹ . 🍒 previous chapters: 𝐈 , 𝐈𝐈 , 𝐈𝐈𝐈 , 𝐈𝐕

a couple of months in the analysis unit had been more than enough time for you to prove your glowing ethics and efficiency when covering cases. but how good of an agent were you if you couldn’t even stick a bullet in a cardboard man’s flat head?

“...damnit…” you mutter under your breath, watching as your stray bullet somehow managed to swerve and hit the parchment square in the chest, which would’ve been great if you hadn’t been aiming for his leg.

watching idly from the entrance of the shooting range, spencer felt an amused grin tug at his lips. between the tug that pulled at his heartstrings and the sight of you struggling (your seemingly only flaw), he couldn’t deny the stream of delight and supremacy that surged through his veins. even though he failed his gun qualification not once, not twice, but four times.

but still, the feeling of triumph was like a breath of fresh air after months of constantly being outshone by you.

“no offense, doctor,” he dragged out the last word as usual, never forgetting to sprinkle it with just a trace of disdain, “but it’s pretty clear that you have no clue what you’re doing.”

you sigh, putting your arms to your side and clutching the handgun that sat loosely in your grip. you had heard when he came in and to be honest, you were almost certain that the only reason you couldn’t hit your target was because of the feeling of his hazel eyes obsessively burning holes in your back for the past 30 minutes. 

“laugh it up, doc.” you said dismissively, getting your arms back into position and pointing the gun straight at the shabbily pierced cardboard man. “i’ve almost got it, anyway.”

he sucked in a breath of air through his teeth, hands shoved in his pockets. “not with that posture you don’t.”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you pulled back the earmuffs on your head, finally turning back to look at him in all his skinny, nerdy glory. you had never seen anyone pull off such an ugly sweater vest the way he did.

“what’s wrong with my posture, genius?” you placed a hand on your hip, watching his smug demeanor subtly wither away.

he cleared his throat, taking a cautious step forward. “for starters, you’re shoulders are hunched. pull them back a little and maybe you’ll actually hit the target.”

you narrowed your eyes slightly, trying to hide the fact that every single word had tattooed itself in your brain. 

he continued his instructions. “next, keep your feet shoulder-width apart. that’ll help you balance.”

you nodded slowly, visualizing the movements in your head.

“finally, apply pressure with both of your hands. i noticed that you allow your dominant hand to do all the work. try to distribute the tension evenly.”

spencer obviously didn’t mean to openly admit that he had been analyzing you and had only realized his screw-up when he saw a sly grin spread across your face.

“whatever you say, doctor…” you said quietly, facing your target once again and forcing your body into the instructed stance. you stood awkwardly, hands shaking slightly as you held them stiffly in front of you. clearly the boy-genius wasn’t as good of an instructor as he thought.

he cringed slightly, pulling his hands from his pocket as he approached you.

“you look like a marionette with a deranged puppeteer.” he gestured toward your feet pointing awkwardly toward eachother, your shoulders squeezed together, and your shaking arms.

you quickly fixed your posture, standing upright once again. “and who do i have to thank for that?” you asked sarcastically.

spencer held back a little laugh. as much as he found it hard to like you, he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t like the way you quickly snapped back at him and fearlessly put him in his place.

“okay, okay. just… hold still.”

with a few more careful steps he found himself standing directly behind you, using all his might not to rub up against you. he took your arms in his hands, pulling them up until they were angled perfectly with the target.

though this whole scene was undoubtedly inappropriate, you felt an odd sense of security sizzle in your chest.

“...feet shoulder-width apart…” his breath felt warm at the top of your head, leading you to obey him subconsciously. he nodded with approval, letting out a low hum.

“excuse me, reid, but i’m pretty sure if i landed a spot in the BAU, i’m more than capable of shooting a little gun on my own. how hard can it be?”

as you asked that question, he bit back the scientifically proven, and clearly unwanted tidbit of information that threatened to spill from his lips, deciding to say something much less mature, as he held your arms in place.

“has anyone ever told you how hard-headed you are?” he asked matter-of-factly.

you stay quiet, slightly taken aback by the boldness of the question. “no. but there’s a first time for everything, i guess. now am i holding this thing right or not?”

his hands snaked forward until they caressed yours, helping you keep a gentle but firm grip on the weapon. a soft sigh slipped through your lips as the tension in your body released. this was much better.

while you should’ve thanked spencer for the support, you were having a bit too much fun being stubborn. “why’re you helping me out anyway…”

your question caught him off guard. he had been wondering that himself. he didn’t even know why he had stayed in the corner watching you in the first place. but the addictive feeling of finally being better than you at something was too good for him to turn down. 

he sighed, speaking quietly. “i don’t know. i can relate to you, i guess. the gun qualification was the only test that i didn’t ace on the first try.”

you let out a small laugh. even his humility was laced with the fact that he and his all-knowing gray matter could do no wrong.

spencer felt a smile spread across his own lips as well, but a feeling in his gut stopped it from blooming. this temporary moment of paradise had let him to forget what terms you and him were on.

he cleared his throat, his lips inching toward your ear until he finally gave you the signal.

“now pull the trigger. nice and steady, don’t move your arms.”

a deafening bang rang through the room. your eyes instantly slammed shut, your body jerking back into his as you sent the bullet soaring forward. you panted heavily, the wind being knocked out of you from the impact. the thunderous noise was followed by an expecting silence.

“...atta, girl…” spencer whispered, finally encouraging you to open your eyes. a wave of relief surged through your body. you had hit the target head-on, making it the perfect shot.

you stood there, mouth agape as you stared through the hollow space in the center of the man’s head. a genuine smile graced your lips as you turned back, looking at the vestige of the proud expression that rested on his face.

“...thank you, spencer.” you said with formality that he couldn’t help but respect. with a pep in your step that hadn’t been there before you left the range, leaving him alone with his web of thoughts.

on one hand, he had helped a girl that probably had no experience with weaponry in her life. that should’ve given him at least a thread of pleasure, right? but instead, he was filled with the realization that he had just fed his only opponent the last thing she needed to be a fully qualified member of the unit. 

and he had served it to you on a silver platter without you having to lift a finger.

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[hismourningflower]

「 just breathe | kai's 2024 birthday special! 」 jing yuan & blade x gn!reader | hurt/comfort, nightmares | birthday fanfiction. ↳ additional tags. reader with ptsd (yet again, self indulgent for my bday!) but you can read it as reader with just nightmares in general!! ooc jing yuan & blade, kinda soppy/fluff with angsty themes. ↳ happy birthday to me part one! this is the honkai edition, there's a genshin special scheduled for later today!

data has been uploaded! - send an ask to join the taglist; specify genshin, honkai or both! @lovingluxury, @dumbificat, @starryshinyskies, @ryuryuryuyurboat, @ainescribe

the jade's guidelines | honkai masterlist | bday m.list | previous work

you could never forget the silk sheets that line your shared bed with JING YUAN, an aspect of the luxuries that the xianzhou alliance bathe themselves quite fondly over the years of their long-life species' existence. you would tease jing yuan that perhaps it was the xianzhou natives' way of comforting themselves after what happened regarding their ancestors but the more you considered it, the more highly likely it felt to be true.

every night you'd fall asleep in these sheets without fail, drowning amongst their soft touch that brushes against your skin. it slides against your every limb, wrapping itself around your body for comfort whenever you're forced to go to bed without jing yuan at your side; there'd be numerous occasions, ones that he was always forced to deal with. you'd always see the way his eyes soften and shift away from you when he admits that he'd be late to bed. it was always work related, of course it was, he was the esteemed general of the cloud knights, the luofu's very own divine foresight.

you could never be mad at him, you were lucky enough to even be on the arm of the general. in your eyes, there was no way you could complain about his workload interrupting things except when it weighs down on him, dragging on his ankles and his shoulders to the point where all he can do is smile and keep napping - this is normal behaviour you've adjusted to but where's that small smirk that you love so much?

unfortunately, there's a nagging that weighs you down too. even though you don't explicitly mention it to jing yuan, he's more than aware. he's by no means stupid and he's actually incredibly observant, especially for you, his dearest partner. he's been awake on more than one occasion when your peaceful sleep is disrupted, your brows furrowed as you clutch at the sheets - naively unaware of his presence in the first place.

the silence will fill with struggled whimpers and gasps for breath, evolving into tears you might not even know slip from your closed eyes, squeezed shut as if trying to wake yourself up. these things haunt you, remind you of your struggles and where life has taken you. jing yuan has never been one for interrupting your rest, after all you've never once disturbed him but he knows he can't let you lay there, thrashing as you cry. not only for your sake but his own, when it breaks his heart to even witness it.

jing yuan will force himself to disturb you, strong arms wrapping around you and fighting against every thrash and struggle your emotionally weak body fights with until you calm against the comfort of his chest, breaking out into muffled sobs as your knuckles go white clutching onto him. he'll let out a breath, noting that you're awake when you choke out his name between gasps for breath.

"just breathe," he coos, a large hand smoothing down your back as his face buries into your hair. long, white hair drapes over his shoulders, tickling at your nose now that it's not tied up with a red ribbon, "it's okay, i'm here."

never once has jing yuan pressed into what your nightmare was about, simply listening as you follow his instructions and take a deep breath, trying to regulate as your body calms. there's a soft sniffle every now and then, his chest damp from where you've been sobbing but he'd rather it be like this instead of the bedsheets from where you've struggled alone.

every time it'll break his heart but he'll do it over and over again, knowing that his mere presence is what soothes you and keeps the tormenting demons at bay. maybe you'll never say it to him but all you need in those moments is him and he's more than happy to hold your shaking body until you fall back asleep.

BLADE isn't a fool, in fact he has his own fair share of nightmares from the mara within him and his past deeds. even if he denies it, you're no fool too and you've been present many times when it comes to blade panicking in his sleep. you do know however not to wake him, aware of his violent tendencies - you could be anyone to him when he wakes up and despite putting every inch of your trust into him, you know that's something you can't risk with him.

the next morning, he'll always avoid your gaze. dark hair will hang over ruby red eyes, concealing them from your view as he goes about his business, still closely knit to your side. he's aware that you know, that you was there and you witnessed it. there's no convincing him for a moment that he can trust you enough just to receive some form of comfort, even if it's hours later when dawn is breaking and in his eyes, just another day begins.

despite his avoidance of the topic when it revolves around him, blade doesn't shy away from your nightmares at all. in fact, considering how well acquainted he is with them - and dealing with them alone, - blade is way more comforting than many may suspect when it comes to your nightmares. it can be a surprising addition to the relationship at first when you experience the first night of having a harsh nightmare while the two of you share a bed.

blade isn't afraid to give you a snap back to reality in the moments you need it the most. in his eyes it's better than letting you lay there and struggle, your body thrashing on woven sheets that are soft from the fabric detergent you'd recently swapped to. when your relationship had started, he'd been against the idea of you staying with him at the stellaron hunters' headquarters but blade was observant enough to notice how often you had nightmares when he'd come to visit your home outside of work. he'll never admit it out loud but that's what changed his mind about where you slept at night.

there's a cold exterior that your boyfriend wears but deep inside, he can't bear the sight of seeing you go through it. he can't bear to hear the way you cry out his name, wrapping your arms around his neck as he gently shakes you awake to wake you up from the horrors you were witnessing. that's why he'll clutch your body into his, never letting go even after you've calmed down. his fingers dig slightly into your soft flesh, his face buried into your neck as he takes a moment for him too to calm down.

"blade? you can let go..." you mumble against his scarred shoulder, bandages decorating the flesh of his upper arm. he'll grunt in response, the cold tip of his nose pressing harder against your skin.

"just a little longer," he mutters in response, albeit a little stubbornly as his hug tightens for a moment, squeezing you reassuringly, "just... keep breathing for me."

you're okay, you're awake, your breathing is slowing down. he repeats these things to himself like a mantra, ruby eyes fluttering shut behind long, dark eyelashes as he presses chaste kisses to your shoulder. you personally never understood why he seemed so affected by your nightmares as the two of you curl back up, pressed together so intimately with the sheets draped over your bodies but blade knows he can't cope with the idea of seeing you in any form of pain, whether physical or mental.

if he could, he would take every inch and sliver of your pain for you. he'd carry the weight of your past and struggles, just to never see you sob from another nightmare ever again.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

© thexianzhoujade 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[yinyangswings]

If Luffy had a Child

Finding out you’re pregnant, at first you think Chopper is joking. You hadn’t been able to keep food down lately, but your mind had never gone to the idea of you being pregnant. And you are terrified but Luffy (after being confused at first) seems excited. The crew are more or less alright with it.

The running joke as the pregnancy continues is that it can’t be that hard in comparison to dealing with Luffy on a daily basis.

Luffy agrees with them. Much to your dismay

Luffy forgets to tell Ace and Sabo about the fact you’re pregnant. So imagine the surprise felt when they meet up one day in a random port and there you are, about 5 months pregnant. Their expressions are hilarious.

“Luffy’s going to be a dad?!”

“Wait…we’re going to be UNCLES?!”

After the realization clicks in, both men are ecstatic and they don’t want to leave. Not until after you have the kid at least. Because they’re going to be uncles

Cue both brothers telling their friends and their own crew the news. The cheers from the Moby Dick can be heard through the Mushi Mushi Den for miles and when Sabo tells Koala and the others at first there is silence but Koala starts laughing and says that Dragon looked absolutely stunned and had had to walk out. There had been a smile on his face though.

Despite it being obvious that you were pregnant, it didn’t really seem to register with Luffy. He acted the same as he always does. That is until one night while you’re resting and he’s laying partially on you, cheek on your stomach and the baby kicks him in the face. He blinks and looks at the spot where the baby was and you just laugh gently. Then his face breaks into a bright smile. 

After that he is always checking up on you and talking to the baby whenever he can. You find it endearing.

You go into labor at the worst possible time. Marines attacked the Thousand Sunny and Luffy had made you get downstairs and hide. Which you hated. You wanted to help the crew but they all wanted you safe.

Then all of sudden you’re in immense pain and practically collapse. You feel something wet pass between your legs and you come into a startling realization. You’re in labor. With a fight raging on above you.

You’d have laughed if you weren’t about to panic.

You try to keep it down, to not alert either your crew or the Marines. Thankfully it seems Chopper sensed your pain or heard your muffled screams. Something, because he’s suddenly there and then Chopper is instructing you on how to deliver. You’re rather impressed with yourself. 

You can only hope that everything is going well above and that Luffy is alright. 

You nearly crumple at a sudden contraction. You hope he’s okay because you’re going to kill him. 

Meanwhile the fight is over after a little bit. Not a surprise as they picked a fight not only with the Strawhats, but Fire Fist Ace and Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army Sabo are there. 

However the feeling of victory is short lived as a cry echoes out from below deck. You. Luffy has a look of panic on his face and he is down the stairs like a shot, the crew and his brothers not far behind. 

Seconds before he reaches the door to the room he put you in, another cry fills the air, this one certainly not yours.

And as he stands there frozen another wail joins the previous one, echoing over one another.

What feels like an eternity goes by, and then he opens the door and there you are, exhausted, sweat dripping off of you and tears sliding down your face. Chopper is flitting around two small squirming bundles that are in your grasp. And you’re smiling through your tears. 

You look up finally and your smile widens. “Come here, Lu. Come say hi.”

And he does so, the quietest you can ever remember him being as he cranes his neck to see both small infants in your grasp. Twins, he hears. A boy and a girl. And they’re….tiny. Smaller than he expected, wrinkly, and pink. They have dark fuzz adorning their heads. But their little lungs are making sure everyone knows that they are both fine and dandy.

In the background, he can sort of hear his brothers beginning to sob because they’re now uncles. But he can’t hear them over the sound of his heartbeat.

When he’s handed one, he can hear her little heart beating under his fingertips. And for once in his life, Monkey D. Luffy is still, just staring at his kids. And then his face breaks out into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.

The crew absolutely adore the babies when they meet them. Every single member of the crew, even Zoro, is grinning at the sight of the littlest members of their crew. It’s fairly obvious that those babies are going to be so spoiled. Likewise, Sabo and Ace are OVER THE MOON when they see their little niece and nephew, each one getting to hold one of them at the same time. To say they’re going to be doting uncles is an understatement. Those two are in love in the instant they see the two. 

And it is chaos. That’s the easiest way to describe Luffy with his children. Pure and utter chaos. He usually has them wrapped up in slings on his chest and back and everyone can hear the babies squealing and giggling as their father bounces around Sunny having the times of their little lives.

The Strawhats find it adorable.

The one thing that there is little doubt about is that those two children are loved by the entire crew. If they’re not with one of their parents, they're with a crew member, always safe and protected. No one has to ever doubt that those crew members would protect those children with their lives

In the same vein, if anyone attempts to go after the twins, it’s not a question of if they die. It’s how.

Because if the Strawhats don’t kill them, if any of their allies get wind of what was attempted or done, there will be no rest until they’re either captured or killed by any of them.

Ace and Sabo would be in the lead.

Garp finds out about the twins months later. Just happens to cross paths with his grandson who is proudly sporting the twins in their slings as usual. Garp is…stunned to say the least.

“When did you grab those babies, you brat!?”

“They’re mine!”

“What do you mean they’re yours?!”

“Gramps, don’t you know where babies come from?”

“YOU IDIOT! OF COURSE I DO!”

The yelling continues for a long while, long enough for you to grab the twins for lunch time. At that point Garp makes his way onto the ship because he actually wants to meet his great-grandson and great-granddaughter face to face.

The twins are part of the exclusive group of people who can touch Luffy’s hat. They play peek-a-boo with it and regularly enjoy pulling it down their daddy’s face because when they lift it, he has a silly expression that makes them laugh brightly. They are his little treasures.

[jolapeno]

the angel + the devil

javier peña x f!reader | halloween fic for late night texts

summary: “You may be dressed like that,” he says, dropping his voice “But I know how dirty your halo is.”

chapter warnings: bonus chapter to late night texts, although you can still enjoy without reading. fluff. halloween costumes. reader does wear a dress and heels. javi flirting. office party vibes. sexy talk, alluding to smut, but no actual smut or anything (similar to most of the chapters in the series) romcom vibes ofc ✨ wordcount: 2.4k

an: i still cant believe how beloved this little series is. i hope you like this little hallow-shot of my fave pairing.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Don’t forget tonight is my works halloween party, if you’re still coming.

i haven’t forgotten baby

You say that but you forgot to bring milk the other day.

you told me you was wearing my shirt, naked

Thought high-pressured situations were your bag, baby.

well you do always know the way to bring me to my knees

Pocketing his wallet and keys, Javi stares up at your work building.

He’s picked you up from work plenty of times, but he’s never been inside. Not like this, anyway.

Over breakfast, dinners and more since the two of you have been dating—and then living together—he’s managed to collect snippets of information.

Been able to make collages from the pieces you hand him—a picture board with ribbons and string connecting things, concocting an image of what things must look like. From the place the copier is to what your desk looks like.

Tonight, he’ll get to see it himself. He’ll have the chance to see the photo strip from Houston there, a little cactus plant you’d named Randy and a set of trays (all filled with paperwork) that he’d helped you find in town.

The rest though, was blank. All fuzzy in his mind.

A puzzle, one needing to be solved.

It’s why his finger and thumb brush against themselves as he steps through the doors, the instructions you’d given him illuminated on his phone. It’s easy enough, especially with the decorations up the stairs, hearing himself being called to by the distinct sound of the Monster Mash that is floating to his ears, guiding him to you.

Maybe, he should have texted to say he was here.

You’d be waiting for him then. Likely hovering at the doorway, looking somewhat lost and nervous—it brings back memories of scribbled-out signs and bubbling apprehension at the airport.

But, if anything, that’s why he doesn't text—doesn’t announce or tell you he’s parked up and climbing the staircase two at a time to see you.

Because Javi wants to see you, capture a sight of you across the room, and give you another romantic moment to add to the ones that make the both of you so “movie-like”.

Except, as soon as he steps through the last doorway, and his eyes land on you, he realises the moment isn’t for you, but rather for him.

His stomach flutters, fingers halting in their previous nervousness, stretching out as his head tilts. He takes you in—trails his eyes from the heel of your white shoes to the nervous finger-tapping you’re doing on the red cup, before he reaches your face—flecks of glitter, painted lips.

And fuck are you pretty.

You’re more than an angel. You’re something else entirely.

Ethereal, captivating, irresistible.

The mere sight of you making his throat dry and his heart quicken all over again, just like it had done outside that airport. Just like you had done from the first text to the see you later you left him with this morning.

He pinches his thigh, just lightly—because again, he’s left with the thought, the realisation: you chose him.

A reminder that is forever there. One he normally buries in gratitude against your lips, or clutches your hand—

You tiring from an ex-DEA agent yet, cariño?

Not even a little bit, handsome.

You’d chosen him because of text messages, fallen for him because of phone calls, and fell further in a hotel room miles away. Him doing the same, re-falling each day all over again due to moments he never thought he’d get to enjoy.

Simple things, like you sewing a jacket on his Pop’s coat to the way you listened when he finally told you everything that happened in Colombia. Your face not shifting, not until the end, not until you ended up in his lap telling him how proud you were of him.

Something he believed.

Somehow, though, a small part of him still expects this to be a dream. A cruel joke from life, because you’re way too good to be true. You’re nothing but kind, generous. Doing everything to remind him continuously how much he deserves you. That he’s good, worthy, amazing.

He’s about to clear his throat, announce his arrival, when your laugh dies at something one of your colleagues says. Then, he watches in slowed time how your eyes sweep—a thing he suspects you’ve been doing since way before he arrived—before landing right on him.

It forces his heart to skip.

A smile, different than the one you’d given to your colleague, spreads and flowers across your face—the fairy and ceiling lights not holding a candle to the way it brightens up the room.

He finds himself mirroring it, letting it unfold, grow, spread, sliding up into his cheeks as he watches you excuse yourself, placing your cup down on a desk before you rush over to him.

“Hey, handsome.”

“Look at you, angel.”

His fingers slide across his jaw, half-tempted to ask you to twirl—witness how the white dress skims your knees, trailing his eyes up and down, drinking you in all over again.

If you mind, you say nothing, although he imagines your cheeks will be warm if he touches them. Your eyes dropping, fingers moving, sliding to adjust the straps of your feathered wings, before touching up the headband with your halo attached—the one he’d watched you glue the other night, tongue out, teeth perched near the tip.

“I’m glad you came.”

“You asked, cariño. Por supuesto que vendría por ti.”

Shrugging, you smile, shifting on your feet. “I know, but you still came, dressed as… wait—what are you dressed as?”

Putting his palms up at the side of him, he grins. His head dips, eyes following your path over his dark jeans and red shirt, as his fingers slide to his back pocket—pulling out a headband with little horns on, placing it on top of his head.

“A devil.”

“Of course,” you say, sliding your arms around his neck. “Very fitting.”

Smirking, he traces his teeth with his tongue, letting you stare at him in the same way he had been you, until you move closer, sliding your arms around his neck. Basking in the way you kiss him, so softly—almost innocently—but with a hidden agenda underneath you can’t display too much of in the centre of your workplace.

But, he still feels the tip of your tongue sweep over his bottom lip—even if to others it’s just a chaste kiss. He knows that in the back of your throat, there had been a little hum growing—the one he pulls from you when he greets you at home, when the decision to eat or “nap” first arises.

“You may be dressed like that,” he whispers, dropping his voice, mouth to your ear as he hugs you. “But I know how dirty your halo is.”

Stepping back, he watches as his words force your lips to part. You battle a smirk, toying with it, chewing it, before displaying an eye roll.

Then, Javi feels you slide your hand into his, bodies so close to being flush, your breath doing a dance over his jaw and neck.

“I think we can make it dirtier. Can’t we?”

Pausing, he tilts his head, brow arching—watching you just smirk, far more devilish than angelic.

And, Javi suddenly wishes his jeans weren’t as tight as they are.

where have you gone, one of your colleagues is eyeing me up

Well, maybe you should try being less good looking.

funny

I’ll be one second, got caught coming out the bathroom by someone from finance.

do you need rescuing

You gonna throw me over your shoulder?

if i do that i’ll be carrying you home

This is why you’re the devil and I’m the angel, my thoughts are pure.

if I put my fingers between your thighs i bet your body says otherwise

Javi!

Handing him a cup, you tap yours against his, shooting a wink.

He doesn’t miss the way you eye him—not at all in a way different to the one he’d been getting from your colleague earlier.

“¿Te estás divirtiendo?"

Sliding closer to him, you press a kiss on his cheek. Angling yourself, the front of your dress moving, shifting, forcing his eyes to drop to where some of the glitter has fallen across your collarbone and cleavage.

“Such a bad girl.”

Smirking, you take a sip. “Angels don’t just fall from heaven for anything, or anyone, Javi.”

There’s a retort brewing—readying on the tip of his tongue—but someone approaches. A snort escapes you before they call your name.

He’d met so many of the people he’s heard things about—having been able to stitch faces to names, to hear their actual voice, and not the one you adopt when you’re telling him stories about your day. But this person's name doesn’t come to him with ease, nodding, agreeing it was lovely to meet them too.

Javi listens to you wish them a good weekend, hugging them, your wings brushing against his side as you do.

Then, the two of you are alone once again.

The whole night, between speaking to people, the two of you have traded in whispered angel and devil jokes—deviousness coming to him with ease, your eyes sparkling, somewhat twinkling as you hear each of them. Sometimes, your retorts silence him, rendering him useless—forcing you to slide more in front of him, his fingers digging into your hip.

Fuck, he wants you on his lap now.

More so, as the punch thins out and the party dwindles—some excusing themselves for home, for better offers or fraternisation with other departments—and the two of you are left him to a corner.

We can go soon. If you want?

Your eyes meet his, hands stroking up and down his arm—soothing, calming, genuinely wanting him to choose.

We can go whenever you want.

The two of you standing, his hip flush with yours, the scent of your perfume doing a swirl in his nose, watching as you smirk against your cup.

It’s hard not to feel that familiar surge inside him as he watches your lips. Because he never tires of you, is never bored of just admiring and observing.

“What you thinking about, cariño?”

The look you shoot him is one of pretend innocence. He can tell. He’s become an expert in you—both in the subtle shifts in your expressions and the way your body talks to him.

“Just thinking, that if I’d thought about it more, you could have come as a pencil and I could be your crossword,” you smile. “Y’could have spent the evening filling me in then.”

He’s mid-drinking when it hits him, making him choke, and splutter.

Your smirk rises as you bring the cup to your lips. “Two can play that game, Peña.”

“Touché, baby.”

For a moment, he lets you be smug.

Let it grace across your features, teeth peering out, eyes twinkling under the unflattering fluorescent light—that you still manage to look stunning under.

“Or, I could have come as a vampire,” you continue, eyes averting, a smirk desperate to grow, “I am really good at sucking.”

He almost crunches the cup, his head tilting, eyes burning into you as his brain fills with thoughts—ones that almost ravage him. Smother over the purer ones he keeps forcing himself to manifest, innocent things he’s yanked up so he doesn’t get a hard-on in the middle of your work office party.

Because you’re dressed as a fucking angel.

“Did you want to see my desk, baby?”

“Is it far?”

Shaking your head, you drain your cup, placing the empty in a nearby trash bin as you offer your hand. Leading, guiding him, pointing out little things that offer some clarification to stories he’s listened attentively to when the two of you have eaten.

“It’s just in here,” you announce, pointing to a closed door before the two of you enter.

As soon as the door clicks shut, his palm is against the wall—caging you in, his body close. Your laugh light, airy, brushing over his face as your fingers slide up his cheeks.

The two of you are flush, but not so harshly against the wall to crush your wings. He wants them intact, needs them to be there later.

“You like my costume, baby?”

He groans, tightening his grip on your waist. The light from the hallway splays across your face—illuminating your eyes as you stare up at him. Noticing the usual flecks of lust and need that swirl whenever the two of you are like this.

“You thinking innocent thoughts, cariño?”

“Not even a little bit.”

Your fingers tangling into his hair, his hips light in their efforts to press you against the wall. The air tightening, anticipation building, and building. It all layering, more so as his fingers drop, tracing under the hem of your dress.

His lips curl, the tip of his tongue dragging across his lower lip. “I like your office.”

“Bring back memories for you?”

Snorting, he grins. “No. I didn’t… I didn’t do that.”

“You want to?”

He considers it. More so when your lips slant back across his, when you whimper lightly when the kiss deepens.

Javi traces his finger over your thigh, half-tempted to slide it further up, skate it over whatever fabric you’ve chosen to wear between your thighs.

But he stops himself, halts.

Instead, he slides his fingers back under your chin, tilting it up. “Rather take you home. To our home.”

He watches as your smile curls up, lips pursing, eyes flicking down before meeting his. “Take me home then.”

Your fingers lightly flutter along his cheek, the top of your nails scraping gently against his skin, into the hair above his ears.

“Not to be a devils advocate, but we don’t have to wait until we get home, do he?”

Smirking, he lets a soft laugh exit under his breath.

“Seven letters,” you whisper, teasing his hair in your fingers, “Highest point.”

He kisses you. Pressing his smirk against your lips, feeling yours emerge as he does.

“You’re a real fallen angel, aren’t you?”

Snorting, you slant your mouth over his, likely wanting one more before the sea of goodbyes and see you in a week have to be said.

“Fallen straight into you, though. No regrets from me,” you add.

Pressing a kiss to your lips, Javi mumbles, “Not from me either.” Hands sliding around your waist, stealing another moment. “Need you to keep the halo on.”

Tilting your head, you pull from his lips. Breaths dancing, shared between the two of you.

“Wanna see how long it takes until I can fuck it off your head, cariño.”

Grinning, your tongue sweeps over your bottom lip. The slightest of head shakes. “Think you knocked the real one off my head ages ago—when you made me moan your name down the phone.”

an: if you have any ideas of what our pairing can get up to, let me know. i can't promise I'll always write them, but you never know.

[bonniepop]

title: of rumors & wrong assumptions parts: 1 / 2 / 3 character: iwaizumi hajime words: 1,200+ warnings: violence towards oikawa's person. experiments in chem lab. notes: i think this is one of my funnier fics so of course i had to bring this back! (also i am not compensating for forgetting about this website at all!)

—

life would’ve been so much easier if you’d ended up having a crush on literally anyone else instead, but noooo. you had to go and have a crush on oikawa's best friend.

oikawa's probably gay best friend.

“i’m telling you—iwa-chan is not gay,” oikawa insists with a hushed voice, leaning over the beaker he poured water into earlier, his face so near the bunsen burner it was giving you anxiety.

“what the fuck, oikawa,” you nearly cry, shoving his face away from the open flame. “get your face out of there!”

your palm presses over the goggles on his face and he yelps. “ow!” he pouts and pulls away his standard chem lab goggles, running his hand through the red marks pressed against his skin. “that hurt!”

“would you rather i let your face burn off in case it exploded?” you shoot back, grabbing a pen and writing down your observations. “also can you get back to work? this is a partner lab report.”

“that’s just water,” he snaps.

"there's an open flame!" you practically shriek, but he ignores you.

"—and i’ll read your notes later.” he says the last part dismissively, and you had to stop yourself from launching your pen at his face—like a gladiator spear through one of his eyeballs.

life would've been so much easier if you'd fallen for literally anyone else, because their best friend probably wouldn't be an insufferably annoying volleyball captain that you'd ended up being partnered with.

at first, it made you giddy. this was your chance—be friend the volleyball captain, make friends with iwaizumi, flirt, fall in love, and live happily ever after.

okay, you're thinking too far ahead. but it was a great setup. until oikawa'd said, "i need to talk to you about something," with that something being... righting... his best friend's reputation.

is there any possible way to get run over by a truck? while inside a laboratory on the third floor of a building?

“anyway, he’s not gay,” oikawa brings up again, louder than the last time, and you sink down against the table and groan.

you can feel your table mates look back at you suspiciously, and you pray to every deity out there. someone, anyone. just open up the earth and swallow me whole.

“oikawa,” you bark, peering over your shared equipment with sharp eyes. “can we not talk about this here?”

he shakes his head quite vigorously. “no! we need to discuss this. because you are wrong, and i am here to tell you that you are wrong.”

your face wrinkles into a scowl. “i really don’t wanna talk about this,” you grumble, looking away.

you don’t even know how he knows. as far as you remember, it was a speculation you’d mentioned to your group of friends in jest, and two days later, oikawa—who had sweet talked your previous lab partner into switching out, apparently; if you think about it, this was all her fault for agreeing—started pestering you about it.

“add the iodine and stir,” your teacher says, and dutifully, you grab the smaller beaker and add the brown liquid, noting the color change when you stir.

“seriously!” oikawa insists, “he’s not. believe me.”

“wh—” you point your pen at him and glare. “you know what, i will remove your name from this lab report if you don’t work on anything in the next—”

you watch him grab his pen and, without looking, scribble quickly on his notebook. “there, done.”

your jaw unhinges, unreasonable, murderous irritation flooding your entire body. “you didn’t even—”

“now get your second beaker,” your teacher instructs, and you use it as a distraction to stop yourself from lunging at your lab partner. “add the remaining water, hydrogen peroxide and fabric starch.”

you take a deep breath and reach for the materials—which were near oikawa’s elbow. when your reach comes up short, you glare at him. “maybe you’d like to help me?”

“oh, sure,” oikawa goes, plucking the materials and placing them on the center of the table. “there you go.” 

you count to ten in an attempt to prevent yourself from hurling the second beaker at his head, opting to focus on the experiment instead.

“anyway, i—”

you nearly slam your hands on the table. “look, oikawa,” you tell him, leaning closer. “i don’t know how you found out about that, but it was meant as a joke. i didn’t mean it, and whoever told you that? give me their name. give me their name, so i can find them, break their phone, and burn their house down. end of story.”

he blinks. “so you don’t think he’s gay?”

you lean back. “if he is, it’s none of my business.”

“but he’s not,” oikawa whines. “what made you think that in the first place?”

you give him a bewildered stare. “what? why wouldn’t i think it? he’s obviously in love with you.”

his face morphs into one of complete and utter shock, and then he booms into laughter, which makes the class turn towards your seat at the very back. he sheepishly quiets down at the call of his name, your teacher evidently not as amused as he is at his new discovery.

“he’s not in love with me,” oikawa denies at a much softer, but not any less irritating, volume.

you ignore him. “he’s so scary but he turns sweet around you—”

“sweet? sweet?” he’s wide-eyed and appalled. he aggressively points to the back of his head. “is throwing volleyballs at my head sweet?"

you defend, “i don’t know what you’re into—"

"do you know how many almost-concussions i've had because of him?! i'm basically a fall risk at this point!”

“now, transfer everything in beaker 1 to beaker 2,” your teacher calls, interrupting your argument. “note the time.”

he stares and shakes his head. “anyway. well, that’s not the case. at all,” he declares, leaning forward to continue the rest of the experiment. “we’re just friends. you note the time.”

“sure,” you say, signaling for him to go once you track the seconds on your watch. you scribble in your notes when the liquid changes color. 

the bell rings, and students are shuffling to dump their liquids in the giant erlenmeyer flask at the back of the room.

your former lab partner smiles at you as you both dump your waste liquid. “seems like you and oikawa had a lot of fun,” she chirps.

not at all. “he’s okay,” you say before you part ways. when you get back to your desk, she notes that oikawa is waiting for you and that you walk out of lab together, bickering.

while the rest of the day went ahead as normal, for the next day at school, you were not granted that same luxury.

“hey,” one of your friends asks over lunch, “are you and oikawa dating?”

your fist clenches in surprise, and the juice sent ricocheting through the straw and into your throat makes you choke. “what?” you ask, coughing, and wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. “where'd you get that?”

the rest of your friends meet gazes. “we heard you were really close in lab yesterday,” one of the girls says.

“yeah, like an old married couple,” another says.

your brain is going into overdrive. what? said who? “we are absolutely n—”

someone calls from outside your classroom. someone with very familiar and annoying voice, someone who you've, quite frankly, had enough of.

you look up to see oikawa, waving merrily at you. behind him, iwaizumi’s stony face is dark and threatening.

the girls around you giggle, and you flush, hunching over at your desk in an attempt to hide.

this cannot be happening, you think despairingly. not only was your crush probably gay, he also thinks you’re dating his best friend.

the best friend he was probably in love with.

“fuck me,” you groan into the wood grain of your desk. "fuck me so very much."

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Northern attitude

Previous chapter

a/n I welcome you to the second part for more Sugar and Ghost. Did I have a right to form attachment to these two in two chapters? No. But here I am. Enjoy.

summary: mission gone bad, feels a little like enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort sort of goodness.

warnings: blood, wounds, needles, death, hospitals, IV's, vomiting, trauma... I think that's all...

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"Keep the chest compressions going", the female voice filled the space that now seemed as buzzing as the actual hospital room. Not that any of them truly had been in the midst of it all. But army hospitals, especially while on the move, could and did get chaotic at times. "You'll need another shot of adrenaline", a calm and collected tone instructed. Gaz looked into Soap's eyes, who has been ramming at your heart for some time now. The two males nodded at one another. "Coming in 3 2 1", Gaz called out as they switched for only a heartbeat or two. Soap's hand left your chest, while Gaz aimed the needle right toward your left shoulder.

Simon felt as if he was in a daze. In one of his nightmares, maybe. Yeah, maybe that's what it was. One of his nightmares where he was aware that he was in his mind traps. Yet he didn't recall what had happened after he started shaking your body. Who pulled you out of his arms? Who pushed him to the side?

"Go back to stimulating the heart, Johnny. Hum, while you're at it", Ghost knew that voice now that his brain had granted him a moment of clarity. Eleanor Price's wife was a medic and a woman not ready to give up on her adoptive daughter. Desperate and ready to do anything. Make the four basic medical knowledge-baring males do everything they can so her baby girl will come back home. Come home, but not in a casket. Simon had no clue who even dialed her number. The phone was used for emergencies only. They were strictly advised not to use it until it was a life-or-death situation. The call had to be directed straight to the base. Eleanor wasn't at the base. But somehow, that made Simon calmer. He was happier that it was her and not some careless idiot in charge.

"You need to start the drip", another desperate order filled the space. "I can't, El,", Price said, running a hand through his face in frustration. "John, for fuck sake, you've done it before. Put it in her hand, the palm; don't go full vein, but do it damit", that was the first time Simon caught onto her voice, quivering. For a split second, her cool doctor mask had slipped, making Price clench his jaw so tight that his voice was barely a groan. "Eleanor", he breathed. "Keep humming, Soap," she barked at the man now responsible for pumping your heart, ignoring her husband. And Soap did. His humming grew louder. I got a pocket—a pocket full of sunshine echoing from the walls, accompanied by his thick Scottish accent—now that he too was under lots of stress.

Gaz ran back into the main room with the pouch full of liquid. "Got it", he said breathlessly. "Good, you see that there are two different colored liquids?", Gaz nodded too overstimulated to realize that Eleanor could not see him. "There is", Price said for him. "Good, bend it. It needs to mix, then start the drip, or so help me, God, I will never forgive you, John".

Maybe not a nightmare. Maybe a bad movie. One Ghost hoped he would forget eventually. He just sat there. While everything buzzed around him. For the very first time, he felt helpless. That was a lie. He had only felt helpless that night. The night when all of the people he loved got slaughtered. The night he was forced to lock the last bits of his humanity away. To promise himself that no one would ever get close to him. He would not make friends. He would never fall in love. But here he was. Your blood was still all over him. Simon's hands were tinted. Permanently tinted. It felt almost like an out-of-body experience. He knew this was happening, but a part of him kept on screaming that this was not real and couldn't be. That fate wouldn't be so cruel. Yes, Ghost wasn't a good man, but selfishly, he was sure that after all that he had been through, his debts had to be paid off by now.

Ghost didn't know why, but his brain took him back to the base. The room you two shared. Did he hate it at first? Yes. But you brought peace. You brought life. His room was bland and colorless. Now, with your posters and books, plants, and fucking throw blankets, it felt like living there was intensional. Like you, and only you had to return there. And that was important to Simon. He cared about it. Cared about you even if his snarling demeanor wouldn't let it show.

There were nights when he would find you passed out with your book in your hands. The hardcover digging into your neck. It was not enough to hurt, but it sure had to be uncomfortable. Simon had stood there for a solid ten minutes, the first time it had happened, just watching your slumbering frame. He turned around and went about his nightly routine. He had gone and laid down in his bed. But only a handful of moments later, he was out, crossing the white line. He had gently pulled the book from your skin, using your pen to mark the page you were on. Pulling the blanket over your shoulders because the base got rather cold at night. He told himself that he couldn't allow a soldier on his team to get sick because manpower was crucial, but deep down, he knew that any other lad could be freezing his balls off for all he cared. It was you. You were the main factor in this equation. There was something even back then that didn't sit well with him when it came to you not being well.

"It's bleeding, Eleanor", John's desperate voice filled Ghost's mind, and it was like his systems had been restarted. His eyes darted toward the table. Onto John's slumped shoulders as he fidgeted with the needle. Simon jumped up. He rounded the table to push John's hand off as he reached for the tape, repositioning the very tip of the needle before securing it in place. "You need to keep it stable", Eleanor's voice rang out. "Simon just did it", John breathed out. The room stilled for a moment. They were running out of things they could do to keep you alive. To keep you with them. Ghost held onto your hand. He hoped that everyone would take it as just him making sure that your skin wasn't puffing up, indicating that the incision was done incorrectly. And none of the men, sweaty and mentally exhausted, would have said anything. But Eleanor did.

"Simon, you're okay, sweetheart?", It was so soft. Too soft. She should be yelling. Simon was responsible for what had happened here. Maybe even more, because he should have ripped all the doors that separated him from you. Should not have followed everyone into the safe house. "She will fight; you know it; you stay strong for her. She needs you", Ghost bit onto his cheeks, feeling the taste of iron filling his mouth. He had met Eleanor a couple of times. The woman was an angel. How John had landed her was beyond him, but she was exactly what you had been for the team. A breath of fresh air. Some days when everyone was off duty, she would ring up everyone, inviting them for a barbecue at her and Price's shared home. "Positive", Ghost breathed out, yanking the wall of steel back up. He couldn't let himself feel it. Not here. Not now.

"Her chest", Soap's two words were enough to shift the focus back to the table. His big eyes looked between the rest of his team and the women on the living room table. "Soap", Eleanor's voice carried both worry and hope. "It's moving, she's...", Johnny's voice died down, only to be overshadowed by Eleanor's once more, "Count her pulse for me; tell me if it's steady enough". No one breathed for a moment, as if afraid to chase it away. As if they inhaled too much oxygen themselves, there would not be enough for you. A minute passed. Two. Three.

"Yeah", Johnny breathed, "It's steady. Weak but... but...", a sob slipped past his lips, followed by a cry from Eleanor. Gaz sank to his knees, his chest heavy, as he tried to catch his breath. John moved past them all, rushing towards the side door. But the distance between him and the room wasn't big enough for the rest of them to not hear him heaving. "Fucking hell, Bonnie, you just took ten years of my life", Soap carefully ran his hand over your leg, his head falling back as the quiet tears continued to flow. "Keep a watch on her for me, boys", Eleanor sniffled from the other side. Simon leaned over. His face pressed into your side as he tried to keep his tears at bay. Not even for a moment letting go of your hand.

That was three weeks ago. They had managed to keep you alive for two days in that house. Two days. Finally, transportation from the base was provided to get all of them out of there. The doctors had told them straight to the face that what they had been doing was God's work. They were the reason you were still breathing. But even under the unfaltering gaze of the base doctors, Ghost still couldn't shake the feeling of you slipping away.

Simon was down in the medical wing every day. Some days, he stood for hours in the corner of the room. Some days, he pulled himself a chair and sat by your side. It was the nights that were the hardest, though. Because now all Ghost saw was you. All he felt was a lack of your presence. If he did manage to slip into a restless sleep, he would be up in no time. Sweaty and panting. He would reach for his hoodie as he moved through the quiet hallways to get to you.

"Debrief starts at five", Soap's head popped into the hospital room. Making Ghost stutter on the last words that he was reading as he slowly lowered one of your books to his lap. Most of his mornings looked the same. Quick shower. Breakfast if he was up for it. Your hospital room. Training. Back to your hospital room. Days when he had to be in meetings or debriefs were the ones he hated the most. That meant he had to be away from you for longer than he was willing. "Copy", he said sternly, eager to at least finish the page he was on. And even more so, hoping that Soap would go away. Simon had nothing against the guy. Out of everyone, he liked Johnny the most. The two had a similar sense of humor, and working together never felt like a never-ending nightmare. Just the Scot talked a lot. At times, it was fun, and Simon's ever-running brain benefited from it. But there were times, like now, when he wished that the man would get the message and go his own way. "Ain't my place to say this, but...", the door cracked open a bit more, "I'm sure that she loves that you're here", Simon was so glad that his back was turned to Soap because he was sure that he would be able to see his face falter. Fingers grinning at the book just a bit tighter. "Copy, Soap, you can go", Ghost's tone was more than unamused. He didn't want to break in front of any of them. The safe house had already been a dead giveaway of how Simon felt when it came to you. And he didn't want anyone to know anything else. "And she...", Soap started once more, but Ghost just lifted his hand up, making all sounds die down. "Copy", Simon said thickly through his teeth. He knew that it was selfish to push everyone away like that. You two were also friends. Close ones at that. Simon knew that Soap loved you. He had a front-row ticket to watch that after the mission went south. But he just couldn't. Couldn't do it now. When the door quietly kicked shut, Simon let out a sigh, his eyes darting towards the clock on the wall. He had to go, even if he didn't want to.

"I'll be back", he muttered softly, placing the book on the little table by your bed. "Will finish reading that book for you later", Ghost reached his hand out, softly running his fingers over your forehead, lingering touches stretching out for longer than they should. "You sleep well, Sugar", he breathed out, leaning in to place a kiss on the side of your head and stilling right beside you as he let himself listen to the sound of your breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. And he was pulling away, running a hand through his face before he walked out of the room.

Ghost barely said a word in the debrief. When Kate asked for his input, the man shrugged his shoulders and said, "You read my report; you know my thoughts". Was the upper management getting fed up with him at this point? Most definitely. Yet no one managed to put the lack of everyone's involvement against them. Most of the base had been rather quiet when they wheeled you through the corridors, almost lifeless. And yes, the key thing was not to get emotionally attached. Teammates came and went, but everyone knew just as well how tight everyone in this group was. Or came to realize that with the four men following the doctors in one quick stride.

"Ghost", Price's voice yanked Simon back to the meeting room. An almost empty meeting room at that. "A word alone in my office", the captain said, only waiting for a head nod before walking away. Simon followed suit. He knew there was no other option. "Eleanor said you didn't call her back", John mused, reaching for the lighter as he puffed out smoke. Ghost's face stayed blank as he muttered, "I didn't see the call". That was a lie. He did. And there was more than one. Simon just couldn't pick up. The same way he couldn't watch the way Price's wife had sobbed in her husband's chest when they had just returned. The guilt was too much. The sight of her sobbing only made Simon think that it was over. An hour. Maybe two. And your body will be in the bag. Stored away in the cold room.

"Simon", John snapped his hand in front of Ghost's eyes, making the male blink a couple of times. "Is that all, sir?", his voice was grim. Even Simon was struggling to recognize himself. John frowned, "Don't you sir me, boy", a warning finger was jabbed into Simon's chest. A moment of silence. A deep exhale. "Her vitals are getting better. She will pull through", Price said softly, clapping Ghost's shoulders, but the man simply shook his head and said, "You don't know that". And it's like that's all Price needed to realize where the stem of all of this denial was rooted. "I called the shots there. It's on me, not you", the captain said firmly, that same warning finger now pointing directly at his chest. Neither of them said anything else afterward. They just stood there. Eyes burning into each other.

Price's eyes narrowed for a moment before he muttered, "Do you like her? My, Sug, do you like her?", the question threw Simon off the hilt. He didn't expect it here. Now. It wasn't supposed to be discussed here. Like that. And my Sug... Fucking hell. It was his captain's daughter Simon was falling for. Biological or not, she was still a daughter. And for the first time, did he realize how much shit this could bring you both? Maybe it was one-sided even. But the way you held onto him. Your touch. Simon had never been touched so tenderly in his life. And what's more, for the very first time, he didn't want to pull away. "Because if you play...", Price's tone shifted completely as he spoke his words, and Ghost cut him off quickly, "Positive. I do... I like her". John simply nodded at his words, making Simom mimic his movements. The older male scratched his chin before waving Simon away, and he didn't waste a minute before turning away. He'll deal with the potential consequences later on.

Simon was almost out the door when a voice stopped him. "Simon", Price called out once more, making the soldier turn back, "I expect you to mow my lawn in the summer". A strange, warm sensation filled Simon's chest as he looked at the man in front of him, smiling as he puffed out another cloud of smoke. Ghost lets himself linger for a heartbeat more before he closes the door, heading towards the medical wing once more.

"I also overwatered your succulent", Simon said quietly as he looked out of the window in your room. The rest of the team had slowly turned the little, awfully sterol-looking room into a somewhat comfortable place. Or at least a place that screamed less about the inevitable outcome they all feared the most. A plush blanket. Some of your books. A night lamp in the shape of a duck. That was a gift from Soap. Was it slightly questionable? Yes. But everyone dealt with this in their own way, so if bringing you a light-up duck made Soap happy in some way, so will it be.

"I bought you a new one, but... still felt like you should know", Simon continued. He was doing this a lot. Way too much. Maybe? Ghost wasn't sure what was normal or not at this stage. Yet he couldn't help but feel that you would be sitting there with an eyebrow lifted at the number of words he was sharing. One thing everyone knew was that Ghost didn't speak unless it was necessary. Some called it arrogance. Others said that that was just his cold demeanor. The truth was, no one truly stopped to listen or cared for Simon for most of his life. So he got used to it. But talking to you, at least now, made him feel lighter. Besides the reading he did here, Simon also went over meetings with you. A part of him didn't want you to feel left out. Not that your unconscious body cared, but... if you could hear him. He wanted you to feel involved. Then there were an endless amount of stories about how and who had pissed him off that day.

"I...", Ghost's voice dies down as he turns back to face you. You looked like a doll laid neatly on the sheets. They have moved the IV out today. Nothing more but a heart monitor left running. Eleanor had no doubt been here while he was in the debrief because your hair had been brushed. Simon let out a sigh as he pulled a chair for himself, quickly shrugging off his gloves.

"You know, you caught my attention the moment I saw you", his hand hovered above yours for a moment. He didn't trust himself to touch you. What if he harmed you in some way? What if he triggered a negative reaction? "Fucking hell, did you keep us on your toes", Ghost shook his head, "I took it for granted. I'd do anything to see you striding past the main entrance once again". Simon let his head fall over your stomach. Oddly enough, that was the only time that his head seemed to work these days. Taking a deep breath, Simon let the feeling of your body slowly ground him. You're here. With him. He can hear your heart beating. Your body is no longer cold. You even have some of your color back. He can...

A sudden rustling of the sheets makes every single muscle in Simon's body seize. For a moment, he can't even hear his own heart as he stays as still as he can. One heartbeat. Another. Nothing. Devastation rushes through him. He had gotten so sensitive to the sounds in this room. A gentle hand caresses his scalp, and Simon jerks away.

Blinking rapidly, only to find your half-hooded eyes open. Looking right back at him. "No", Simon muttered, fully convinced that his lack of sleep had finally gotten the best of him. He doesn't move away, but he digs the back of his palm into his eyes. "Simon...", and it's barely a whisper. So weak still, but it's there, and... Simon's shoulders quiver. There's no sound. Not a single hick-up, but you know.

Every single part of your body feels as if it's on fire. The room is dim, but gods, it's still too bright for your sensitive eyes. Yet you can't take your eyes away from the man drowning in his own emotions right next to you. You carefully reach out for him, muscles soar from the lack of movement. Brushing your fingers through his hair. Scratching his scalp. You have no idea how long you've been out, but you've heard him talking. Soothing the anxiety of being trapped in nothing but darkness.

"Si", You breathe out once more, trying to tug at his wrist softly. Wanting nothing more than to see his eyes once again. Simon gives in instantly, the tears soaking his mask. You try to wipe some of them away, but his fingers wrap around your frail wrist. For a second, you are convinced that he will push you away, but he does quite the opposite. With both of his palms, Simon presses your hand into his cheek. Leaning into your touch.

"You died... I held you," he says through heavy breaths, pulling at your heart, "You... the blood". You shake your head slowly. "Look at me", you say softly, coughing slightly. At the feeling of your dry throat, Simon is out of the chair, lifting the water jug to pour you a glass before carefully cradling your head as he helps you take a couple of sips. That's enough to chase some of the big emotions away. Enough to give time for Ghost to pull the iron mask back on, but his eyes still glisten.

"I'm here, aren't I?", you whispered, "That pink rug was too appealing to give up", you joke slightly, and it's enough to make Ghost let out somewhat of a chuckle. "You don't have to die to buy a rug for our room", Simon says, head turning to look at the monitor as if waiting to see something that would still prove to him that this wasn't happening. "You look like shit, LT. Losing sleep over a girl doesn't look good on you", you mutter, and Simon lets out a dry huff. "Because I'm a decent bloke, I won't comment on how you look", you let out a gasp in return, and that nearly sent him flying off his chair because the man is on such high alert that anything rings danger bells in his head now. "I'm okay, just trying to be dramatic with you", you say, squeezing his hand softly, trying to get him to calm down once more. Silence falls. Not an uncomfortable one. One that fully captures the shared amount of words running through both of your minds.

"I heard you, you know? Kind of pissed that you think that Jack deserved to get his heart broken," Simon snorts, running his fingers through his hair. His shoulders droop. All of the adrenaline that's been keeping him upright is finally wearing off. Leaving him feeling heavy and weak. "Should I get the others? Price would...", Ghost breathed, turning to get up, but you grabbed onto his hand quickly. "I just want you right now", you muttered straight away, realizing how dumb and desperate that sounded, "If you don't mind".

Simon scoffed, "Sugar, I sat here for three weeks begging for all the holy things that you would pull through", You bit your lip at his words. You knew that he did. You felt him. Heard him. Smelled him. He had been your lifeline all this time. "If I could, I would pull rank to get myself off duty so I could sit here till you fully recover", Ghost says, rolling his eyes, now doubtful at everyone who has been up his ass for not attending every single meeting. You smile at him weakly, feeling the little bits of your energy slowly giving out. Yet you still muster what's left of it to move your head up so you could run your fingers beneath Simon's eyes, where the darkest tired bags screamed about the lack of sleep he was getting.

"Get in bed," You tap the side next to you softly. You have no idea how you both will fit here, but you can't watch him practically fall asleep by your side. He had already spent way too many nights in that tiny plastic chair. "Shouldn't we at least go on a date first?", Simon jokes, making your cheeks grow crimson, and you're convinced that they are a dead giveaway of how you are feeling. "Oh, fuck you...", you huff, trying to frown, but the smile that tugged at your lips was too strong. "Lay with me, so you could sleep. So we both could sleep", you say once more, not letting go of his hand. With the size of this man, the bed will get crampy. But you didn't care. You needed to feel him close. To just know that he was with you. Fully. As if reading your mind, Simon got up, climbing into the bed from your good side. Making sure your uninjured shoulder was pressed against him.

"Is this okay?", he said after a moment of you two moving around to find a comfortable position for the two of you. "You can wrap your hands around me; you don't have to lay there like a log", you chuckled, tugging at his sleeve and urging him to cling onto you the way you were clinging to him. Ghost chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss your head. Your hand instantly moves up to cradle the side of his masked face. The feeling of the soft material soothing to your senses. "I fucking missed you", Ghost breathed after a moment of silence. Fingers running up and down your back. You slowly peeled your eyes open, fighting the tiredness just for a heartbeat longer. Meeting his soft eyes as looked down at you. "I missed you too, Simon. Been missing you since the moment I saw you", you smiled softly, turning to press a loving kiss on his chest, right over his heart, before you lay your head back, listening to the steady drumming.