#I should probably remove any sharp things from my room...

[myth0mani-art]

So I had a mental breakdown today.

Like one of those involving snot, tears, the overwhelming urge to do something that might hurt yourself, not being able to breath...

That shit.

Let's not forget the cramping my body tends to do in these situations...

Or the intense shivering which makes me look like an utter idiot.

In the middle of class.

I wanna bury myself now and never return?

Please?

I just need to rant about this now because I'll just suppress everything if I don't which will make me feel worse probably :::)

[haikyu-mp4]

Stable foundation

You and Aone are good cop + bad cop when your daughter acts up, for my Parenting event<3

requested by @dira333. word count; 644 – f!reader

Your daughter is generally a saint, calm and kind like her dad, creative and sweet like you. However, every parent has to scold their child sometimes, and your daughter really did it this time. The two of you stood in front of your newly decorated hallway, your son in another room doing his homework and probably completely uninterested.

It wasn’t supposed to be newly decorated. Your daughter had taken it upon herself to un-whiten the walls with oily crayons and waterproof markers that would definitely be a pain to remove, if you didn’t have to just paint it over.

“No!” you yelled on instinct when you walked past the hallway and saw her sitting there with her art supplies. At the sound of your indignation, Aone stuck his head around the corner in a silent question before coming fully into the room to see.

“Oh, that’s unfortunate.”

“We have so much paper, why would you draw on the walls?” you asked rhetorically, the frustration clear in your voice and making your daughter tear up quickly. She stood up, holding her hands out and wiggling her fingers as if presenting a masterpiece.

You looked at your husband with furrowed brows, only to find he was looking at you for help already. It would have made you laugh, hadn’t you been so frustrated. Aone cleared his throat. “It’s a really nice drawing, but now we can’t frame it.”

Pursing your lips, you were between cooing and scolding. If that was his biggest worry, you sure chose a good husband.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, pouting and dropping the red and green crayon she previously held in one hand to make a double line.

While you picked the girl up so she couldn’t do any more damage, Aone went to pick up her supplies and put them away. “You can not draw on the walls,” you told her, strict voice having even more effect now that she was in your arms and so close.

Her lip quivered, making her rub her face and smudging colour there too, so you tried to pull her arms away but she thrashed in your hold. Aone came over when the little girl yelled for him, resting a hand on her head to calm her cries.

“But mommy, you said you wanted to put more pictures on the walls,” she cried. You took in a sharp breath, now with your own welling tears as she so sorrowfully admitted to her kind intentions. She’s so much like her dad.

Two days ago, you had thrown out a comment to your husband about wanting more art on the walls and that you should buy more frames for your kids’ stuff.

“Let’s get you washed up,” Aone said, taking the girl from your arms and throwing you a reassuring smile.

While you took the time to calm down and assess the damage and how you would fix it, Aone helped her wash and then set her up with some food in the living room where her brother could watch her for a little while.

As he came back, you were slumped on the floor, stained washcloth in hand and about three different soaps laying around you. Aone noticed how the cleaning had ultimately made the damage worse and puffed out a breath of air before squatting beside you. He licked his thumb and rubbed away a smudge on your face, which reminded him much of your daughter a couple minutes ago, then ran his hand down your jaw to direct your eyes to his.

“It’s fine. I will paint it. She will learn.”

You were tired from work lately, so overwhelmed that things like this made the scale tip. That’s when you were glad to have such a stable husband.

“It’s fine,” you repeated like an affirmation.

Aone smiled. Another day of supporting his perfect family.

masterlist

for the requester: I haaad to make Aone good cop, that cutie.

[bump1nthen1ght]

Across a Crowded Room (GN!Reader x M!Goblin)

Pairing: Flirty!GN!Reader x Male!Knight!Goblin

Genre: High Fantasy, Flirting, Sexual Tension

Word Count: 2576 words

Summary: You had entered the tavern with innocent intentions; to dance, to drink, and maybe take someone home, if they were interesting enough. But a certain goblin knight catches your eye, and you’re just dying to see him blush.

Request: Can I ask for your goblin knight x flirty reader? I want to see my boy blushing

If you want to read more about the goblin knight, check out here (SFW Headcanons) and here! (NSFW Headcanons)

No one throws better parties than knights, especially knights just fresh from a victory.

The clamering group came into your town just this afternoon, blood-soaked and smiling, shouting about free rounds at the local tavern. For a boring town just a couple miles from a well protected capital city, it was the most exciting thing to happen in months. Naturally, anyone and everyone who loves some good fun and alcohol was quick to congregate. 

Including yourself.

The tavern is packed, sweaty bodies and beer all clashing together as people dance and drink, the band playing to rapturous applause and intoxicated cheers. Soldiers have stripped most of their armor, surrounded by groups of desperate hangers-ons, here for the fascinating tales or to catch the eye of a handsome knight.

You’re more interested in the free alcohol and the music, but you can’t deny that these soldiers are good-looking. Would it be bad to have those calloused hands pushing up your shirt, salty lips sucking on your neck, all pent up and ravenous from weeks on the road?  

Damn, maybe you’ve had enough to drink.

You drop off your half-empty ale and pick up a fresh cup of water instead, thankful for the magical ice chest the tavern owner had just purchased/stolen off a drunken wizard. Your cheeks are still hot, but any dizzying fog fades quickly from your mind. Your eyes wander around the dance floor, wondering if anyones sober enough to be a good dance partner, or if it’s time to call it a night. Everyone seems to be partnered up already, and you think you’ll be walking home alone in the dark, when-

Bingo.

There in a corner booth, surprisingly free of drunken party-goers, sits a goblin knight in gleaming armor. His bulkier pauldrons have been removed, but his chest plate remains shiny and in place. He sips on something bubbly, something light and clearly not the hearty ale everyone else is indulging in. Yellow eyes survey the dance floor with a clear mind, a reserved smile on his face. 

Welp, guess I can stay another hour or so.

You slink between dancing and flailing bodies, trying not to seem too eager as you make your way to the lonely knight’s table. He only glances up once you sit down in his booth, giving you a polite smile, probably thinking you just need to rest your feet. 

Now that you’re up close you can see just how handsome he is. With that sharp jaw and slicked back hair, you’re surprised he isn’t fighting off propositioners with a stick.

“Hey there.”

“Hello.” The goblin gives you a nod, taking another sip of his prosecco. His eyes go back to the dance floor, still calm and casual. You slide across the booth seat, closer yet not to close, still trying to gauge interest.

“Not much of a dancer?”

The knight seems a little shocked you’re still talking to him, stopped half-way through another sip. He sets it down.

“I enjoy it, though I have less experience in this sort of dancing.” He waves his hand generally to the crowd, which are less dancing and more bouncing. The tavern is too crowded for any proper dances, so most people divulged into a mixture of shimmying and skirt tossing, often grinding someone to slide up next to and go back and forth. “Plus, my men are having a lot of fun already, it seems someone should stay behind and be responsible.”

“You’re the captain?” You slide another inch over. “That’s a hefty title, lots of hard work, sounds like you deserve most to let loose and relax a little.” You’re even more shocked now that he’s all by his lonesome; the captain is the one with most of the glory and prestige, someone you’d be proud to be on the arm of, even for just a night. The knight just laughs, gesturing to his drink.

“I appreciate it, but the wine has proven to be good company. Besides, I was never one to find getting into a drunken stupor to be very relaxing. A little too much vomit for my taste.” The knight runs a clawed hair through his slicked back hair, tucking back any loose strands. It shows off the strong muscles of his neck, just hidden behind his armor. You take an intake of breath.

“I see, I see. Are they any other ways you like to relax?” You finally close the gap between, the fabric of your pants legs touching his own, and throw your arm over the back of the booth. His tail twitches and his eyes glance down to your chest, clavicle exposed by your loose tunic. But this knight is a gentleman, and is quick to meet your eyes.

“I garden. Nothing too exciting, just some vegetables.”

“Really?” The curiosity in your voice is genuine, not the kind you force to keep the conversation alive. “I do too, mostly windowsill flowers, and the occasional herb and succulent. Though those tend to die on me, though. I’m not as familiar with desert plants.”

The knight's brow furrows thoughtfully, a thumb to his chin.

“How often do you water the succulents?”

“Uhm, maybe every 3 days.”

“Ah, that’s the issue.” The knight has locked in, turning his chest toward you. You become aware of how close your hand is to his leg, or his shoulder to your shoulder. “Succulents are small, but hardy. They only need water every week or so, some even less.”

“Oh, I never realized. I must have been drowning the poor things!”

“It's a common mistake, I made it myself the first time. Now they’re one of my favorites. Small but mighty.”

Much like yourself, Mr. Captain.

The stirring in your stomach is familiar, your heartbeat just a little bit faster. Handsome, polite, and knowledgeable without being condescending. Where has this goblin been hiding?

Well if no ones gonna snatch him up…I better do it myself.

“I’m so sorry, I forgot to ask your name. How rude of me.” You scoot on more, fully breaking the normal boundaries. You hold out your hand. “I’m ____.”

The knight looks at your hand, then looks at you. You think you catch a hint of a blush at the tips of his ears, right before he grabs your hand and presses a kiss onto your knuckles.

“Leon, my dear. A pleasure to meet you.”

His smile is infectious, one curling up at your lips.

Oh, I see.

“Should I call you captain? Seems only right with such an honorable position.” Your hand rests on his armored knee. There's two solid layers between you, but you can still feel him twitch at the touch.

“No need, I get enough of that from my men. Just Leon.”

“Ok, just Leon. Gardening’s a yes, dancing’s a no, what other things do you do for fun?” 

“Training, mostly. Not very exciting, but I personally enjoy the rigor and discipline of my work.”

“I disagree, good sir. I’ve seen knights train before, it is far from boring. In fact, me and my siblings used to make trips to the capital just to see them spar.” You chuckle, the old memory of betting on the good-looking knights resurfacing. Your teenage years were voracious. “Seeing them move so gracefully, so powerfully, with all that heavy armor and weaponry. It was enthralling. And if I’m being honest….” The hand on Leon’s knee moves upwards. Leon’s throat bobs, “...very attractive.” Your hand changes its course and moves to the outside of his thigh, tracing the empty sheath still tied to his waist. Leon exhales heavily out of his nose, his tail flicking by his side. “What weapon do you prefer most, captain?”

“Ah, my rapier.” Leon's voice only catches a bit, well-practiced dn maintaining his composure. If only that cute blush didn’t give him away. “Light, quick, and efficient. I am also proficient in a short sword, but I always find myself going back to the rapier.”

“Hmm good to know, I’m sure to become Captain you must have studied quite rigorously. I would love to see you spar one day, Leon.”

A tint of pride curls up the side of Leon’s lips into a smirk, his shoulders raising. He had been so bashful, but it seemed this was a skill he was comfortable bragging about.

“Well…” Leon looks at his men, all still drunk but most of them having found a suitable partner, a place to sit, or a bucket to throw up in. “I could show you right now.”

You sure your eyes are sparkling, your voice almost  a squeal.

“Yes please.”

—

And that’s how you find yourself outside, away from the warm fire and flowing alcohol, goosebumps all over as you watch  Leon demonstrate. He had procured his rapier from the tavern keeper, who had shown you a nice area outside with the proper amount of room. It was hard to say no to the Captain, after all.

“First you bow to your opponent. Respect is paramount to a proper duel.” Leon zips his feet together, bowing at a perfect angle, hand not even on hilt. “When it’s called, you may draw your weapon and ready yourself.” The gleaming metal shings as it’s pulled out from Leon’s sheath, his forearm muscle flexing with the smooth movement. He holds the weapon out and forward with only one hand, stepping his non-dominant foot backward. Yet Leon keeps his weight centered, his front toe ready to jab at any moment. “This is my preferred stance, as it allows me to be quick and fluid. Once the the match has started, I can make my first strike.” Leon is just as quick as one would expect, shoulder bursting forward to throw the sharp end of the rapier into his imaginary opponent's chest. “If I am blocked, I can easily move back and adjust.” He bounces on the balls of his feet as he scoots back. “I survey their next move, and then I may strike again-” Leon jabs forward, “-or parry a blow-'' Leon swipes his rapier diagonally, the force blowing a breeze across your face, “-or even block, and strike again.” Leon turns his blade, muscles holding steady as if real weight was applied, before he easily swipes his blade again. “If I hit, that is the end of the duel. As in real life, it only take one blow to slay you.” Leon flicks his blade in his hand, adjusting it to slide back into his sheath just as smoothly as before. He turns and gives a gracious bow, waving his hand to his single person audience.

You clap furiously, cheeks flushed from both the cold and your excitement. Seeing a person of such skill perform was always a thrill.

And very, very sexy.

You stand up from your seat, mimicking the excited whoops of a crowd. Leon plays into it, putting his hand on his chest in a faux-sense of embarrassment.

“And of course, always check on your opponent, and give a good handshake.”

Leon shakes his imagined fighter's hands, even mouthing words of “good fight, good fight.”

A strand of Leon's hair has come loose from his slicked-back style, hanging down in a curl against hsu forward. His cheeks are also flushed and his gloved hand goes to rub the back of his neck. You watch the bones crack as he stretches, the muscles flexing. 

Oh my gods, thank you for this sight.

“So, how about we-”

You’re rudely interrupted by a stool being thrown out a window, a mixture of excited gasps and the angry yells of a barkeep about paying for that echoing across the lot. Leon is next to you in a moment, grabbing your wrist and pulling you close. He only comes up to your waist, yet you’ve never felt more shielded.

“ALRIGHT, EVERYBODY OUT, NOW!”

Drunken patrons and knights spill out of the front, you and Leon forgotten out in the back area. No one seems harmed, mostly embarrassed and/or delirious. Probably a prank gone wrong.

“Seems that ale was much stronger than it tasted.” You murmur.

“Quite. So was whoever threw that stool.”

You guffaw, shocked once again by this Captain’s sense of humor.

“Well, if the tavern is closed, let me walk you back to your abode. I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten.” Leon looks up aht stars, the moon high in the night sky.

“Uh, wouldn’t you like to check on your men?”

“They’re big boys, they can handle themselves. I would much prefer making sure you get home safe.”

Leon holds out his elbow for you to take. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you eagerly take it.

—

“I must thank you for your time tonight.” Leon pants, pushing back strands of loose hair behind his ears. “I was quite ready to spend the night with only my drink, left with my thoughts in that corner booth. But it has been a delight speaking with you. ”

“It was my pleasure, Captain. It’s easy to make fun when with such interesting company.” You nudge his shoulder with your hip, giving him another wink.

  Leon chuckles, a tinge of dark green colors at the tips of Leon’s ears.

“I could say the same.”

There’s a lingering something in the air as you two walk side by side, the brisk night air against your sweaty skin. Your eyes can’t help but wander over his exposed shoulder and neck, see the way his tail flicks back and forth in a slow pattern. The space between your paths slowly close, your clothes and his armor only breathes apart by the time you reach your doorway

“So,” Your hand brushes across Leon’s shoulder, goosebumps pebbling the back of his neck, “...would you like to come in?” You gesture with your head, a wry smirk curling up your lips.

For once, the captain seems lost for words, something almost caught in his throat. His gaze dances across your exposed shoulders, shooting hack up in an instant. Your index finger tucks another stray hair behind his ear, an almost imperceptible shiver running down his spine. You can hear your blood pumping in your ears.

A gentle, gloved hand daintily grabs your wrist, pulling it away from his shoulder with a polite smile. Your stomach sinks a bit, but you try not to let it show.

“Best if not.” Leon’s thumb rubs across your pulse before gently setting it down to your side. It’s a polite rejection, but you can't help feeling slightly embarrassed for reading him incorrectly, words knotting up in your stomach. So you nod, placing your hand into your pants pocket, hoping he doesn’t see it shake. 

Idiot, Idiot, Idiot-

“Of course, Captain. Have a good night.” 

You turn to your doorway, trying not to let the disappointment hit too hard.

“There’s a market tomorrow morning, in the grove. I’ve heard they’re supposed to have the most beautiful plants on display from all across the kingdom.” Leon worries the bottom of his tunic in his hands. “Would you like to join me?”

A childlike giddiness fills your stomach, how lighter than ever. You don’t hide your smile.

“I would love to.” You linger in your doorway, feet kicking as a blush heats up your cheeks. “Meet me here at 9?”

Leon’s canines gleam in the lamplight, his lips curling as he drops into the bow.

“It’d be my honor.”

[out-there-tmblr]

Young zaundads wip (22)

The second section is NSFW. Sexy times where they're both still figuring it out.

***

It's surprising how quickly word of their new market spreads. The alcohol sells – the bottles of wine that the mess hall never stocks, the clear spirits that smell like paint remover to Vander – and the gas masks sell so well that Silco's keeping a waiting list for their next two orders.

Clothing is harder. It's too hard to know what size of clothing will sell, what style or colours. The uncut fabric still takes up a lot of space and requires someone able to sew.

"And we'd need somewhere to store it," Silco complains as they look through the captain's stock. He keeps running his fingers over the fabrics, fingertips grazing over anything smooth or shiny.

"Our place?"

"Somewhere I'm happy for other people to come and see the goods," Silco replies. He firmly believes the safest approach is to make sure no one knows where they sleep.

"We should ask Babette." Silco gives him a doubtful look, so Vander explains, "Her workers are probably the only ones who are going to pay just to look good. If we asked what they want, maybe we could get a selection and take it to them?"

"The captain's docked here overnight. We'll go now, check with Babette and come back."

Babette's working on the riverside this week, in a small fisherman's cottage with the tents set up behind it. They end up sitting in the front room, surrounded by scantily dressed women, waiting for Babette to be free. Vander's trying not to stare at cleavage and high cut skirts, but Silco's actually chatting away to a couple of girls in the corner, nodding and taking down notes.

He's relieved when Babette returns and leads them to a tiny kitchen out the back, with a small but serviceable table. Babette uses a small step to climb onto the chair.

"Vander," Babette says warmly, "and who's your friend?"

"Silco," Vander says, ten futures to face Silco's unimpressed expression. "I grew up on the riverside. Babette's been here as long as the bridge has."

"Longer, dear." Babette ashes her cigarette into a glass bowl. "I came here when they were building that. I remember you running wild in the streets, ten years old and trying to pretend you were grown, pouting when Callie wouldn't let you in the front door."

Honestly, Vander didn't think anyone would remember that but him.

Leaning an elbow on the table, Silco looks at him. Silco doesn't smile but there's amusement in his voice. "You tried to sneak into a brothel at ten?"

"Only to pickpocket my clients. Really, if you're not good enough to lift a wallet on the street, you shouldn't be dabbling in petty theft." Thankfully, she doesn't go into any further details. Vander has no desire to let Silco know about the time he had to run from a potential mark and hide in a barrel of chum for twenty minutes. He stank of fish for days. "Now, how can I help you boys? You didn't seem too interested in another companion."

Now, Silco smiles. "We have a business opportunity for you."

They make a list and go back to the ship. They find what they can and pay for it, and then return with their pile to Babette's back door. There are lots of flimsy fabrics, things that shine and sparkle in the candlelight. Lots of strong, bold colours.

They spread the rolls of fabric over the table and haggle good-naturedly over the price.

***

Vander's grown used to sleeping in beds that are only just wide enough for his shoulders. He's used to turning in bed very carefully, so he doesn't roll out of it by accident. The new bed that Silco buys them is double the width of the company bunks. With a thick wooden baseboard and headboard, with curves etched into the wood. It reminds Vander of the Piltover bridge, the combination of square lines and curves, a mix of practicality and beauty.

"Are you going to keep running your hands over that or are you going to get into bed?"

Vander looks over his shoulder. Despite the sharp words, Silco doesn't look annoyed. He's been sharper than usual tonight, but Vander mostly put that down to the frustration of taking the bed apart to fit it through the fissure entrance and then getting it to fit back together.

It's good and sturdy now. Vander gives the frame a little shake and it doesn't budge. "Nothing wrong with admiring a job well done."

Silco rolls his eyes and starts unbuckling his jacket. They've made the bed with a piece of cotton as a sheet and a few blankets. One pillow each, purchased from the company store. Vander wants to jump straight into it but it's probably better to strip his clothes off first. It'll be smudged with coal dust soon enough.

"You said," Silco says calmly, hanging up his clothes for tomorrow, "you wanted to fuck me when we got a bed."

Vander jerks in surprise, and then hears his shirt seam tear.

"Damn it. Remind me to fix that in the morning," he says reflexively. "And, yeah, I remember saying that. Why?"

"We now have a bed." Silco sounds fine about it but his knuckles are white as he unbuttons his pants. He slides them down and then shakes them out, hooking them on a loose nail in the wall. "So we might as well."

Vander grins to himself. It's such a practical way to approach sex – he doesn't know what else he expected from Silco.

Vander leaves his own clothes folded messily in the corner. "Have you done this before?"

"Have you?" Silco counters.

"There were a couple of girls on riverside. More fumbling than anything else." Vander shrugs. "But I haven't done… exactly this."

Silco fetches a small glass bottle from his jacket pocket. It's orange in a tall pyramid shape. "Babette suggested oil."

"You talked to Babette about this?"

Silco folds his arms across His scrawny chest. "She seemed the most reliable source of information."

Vander wants to tease him but Silco might take it personally and call the whole thing off. "Okay. Did she suggest anything else?"

"That it might be easier to relax lying on my stomach. Remember to use the oil. That the first time was bound to be uncomfortable," Silco admits, watching the bottle in his hand rather than meeting Vander's eyes, "but it would feel good by the end."

Silco presses a perfunctory kiss to Vander's mouth and pushes the bottle into his hands. Then he walks over to the bed, pulls back the blankets and then lies face down. He pulls a pillow under his cheek, and then sides his knees apart. "Are you going to stand there watching?"

"It's a very pretty sight," Vander says earnestly and Silco snorts. Vander isn't any kind of artist, he couldn't explain it if he tried. But there is something breathtaking about The warm lantern light on Silco's white skin, the shadows caused by the curve of his spine. It's something about the vulnerable backs of his knees, the long stretch of thigh, the curve of his ass. Silco likes to sleep with his hair pulled into a messy bun, but there are dark strands escaping, curling around the nape of his neck.

"You really are beautiful," Vanser says, crawling onto the bed and kneeling between Silco's legs.

Silco glares over his shoulder. "Hurry up, Vander."

The stopper is a little tricky to get free. It takes Vander an extra moment to work it out of the bottle and he has to ignore Silco's very judgemental, "Do you need assistance?"

It doesn't smell like engine oil, like diesel and machinery. It's thin and pale, and barely has a smell at all. Out of curiosity, Vander licks his finger but it doesn't taste like much either. Silco is still watching him over his shoulder, but at least he doesn't say anything.

Vander slicks up his cock first, a stroke or two to take the edge off, and then he smoothes the oil over Silco's hole, feeling it tense and relax under his fingers. He pushes two fingers inside to spread the oil, Surprised at the resistance, and Silco hisses into the pillow.

"Okay?" Vander asks, and Silco makes a muffled uh-huh noise, face still pressed into the pillow. Vander adds some more oil, hypnotised by Silco's hole stretched around his fingers. He pushes deeper and his knuckles disappear inside Silco.

Silco gasps, shoulder blades tensing as he holds tight to the pillow. Vander pushes in deeper, and he feels Silco clench around him, how hot and smooth Silco feels around his fingers.

Vander pulls his fingers out and lines up his cock. Silco is hot and smooth around him and tight. So tight. It's like fucking into a vise. "Relax, will you?"

"I'm trying," Silco snarls back at him. "Give me a minute."

Vander tries to stay still, to stop his hips from hitching forward. He presses his palms against the mattress, to either side of Silco's waist and tries to think of anything but how hot and tight Silco is around him. How he can feel Silco clench around him and then relax. How desperately he wants to bury his cock in deep.

"Silco," and it's a whine because Vander's going out of his mind. "Can I–"

"Yes," Silco says and Vander thrusts the rest of the way in. He takes a breath, tries to give Silco a moment to adjust and then he has his hands on Silco's hips, holding him steady as Vander pulls back.

He thrusts back in, fireworks skating up his spine and Silco's moan ringing in his ears. When he pulls back, Silco whines into the pillow. It's obscenely loud, the slap of skin against skin, the grunts that Vander can't stop making, the gasping whines ripped out of Silco. It drives Vander on, makes him thrust harder and hold on tighter, fingers digging into Silco's hips.

It catches him by surprise how close he is, has Vander scrambling to reach under Silco and get a hand around his cock, to jerk him off as Vander chases ecstasy with every thrust. He's desperate and clumsy but Silco is sobbing for breath, dragging in deep, wet gasps.

Then Silco freezes, clenching beneath him and around him. He comes with one last, low groan and Vander's only a few thrusts behind him. He comes deep inside Silco and then collapses onto his elbows, breathing open mouthed against Silco's back.

He can feel Silco's shuddering breaths. Can feel Silco's shoulders hitching as he forces his breathing under control again.

Vander pulls out and rolls off him, and Silco is out of bed, straight over to the flask of water and rag they use for cleaning up. He keeps his back to Vander as he washes his face first. He wipes himself down, front and back, but the whole time he's silent and keeps his back to Vander.

Silco dislikes going to sleep dirty – for any reason – but he usually has no modesty when washing and spends the time complaining that they don't have hot water.

"You okay?" Vander asks, sitting up. He stays in bed because he knows Silco doesn't react well to being cornered.

"Fine," Silco says quietly, facing the wall. He wipes down his chest again, and then fiddles with the rag, wringing it out and then laying it over the flask. "It's fine."

Silco turns the lantern down to a low glow and then comes back to bed.

Vander frowns, worried he might have got carried away. He's usually careful around people, has always had to be, but he forget around Silco. Silco would laugh at him for holding himself back and it's easy to forget the reasons Vander should. "You'd tell me if I hurt you, right?"

"It's not that," Silco says quickly, which proves it is something.

"Did you not like it?" That doesn't feel true, not with the noises Silco was making, but he's to ask.

"It's not–" Silco gives a frustrated sigh. "It was fine. It was good, it just…"

Vander rolls to his side, curves a arm around Silco's waist. He can make out Silco's familiar profile in the almost dark. "Tell me."

"I don't like the way it made me feel. Flayed open. Overwhelmed." In the dark, Silco takes a deep breath. "I don't want to do that again."

"Okay."

"Don't placate me! This was something that you wanted and now I'm saying no. You should at least be honest with me if–"

Shutting Silco up with a kiss feels like a good solution, especially when he kisses back. "I want you. However I get to have you."

"You mean, you like me on my knees sucking you off," Silco clarifies, confident enough to tease.

"I really do."

***

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

You go. I go.

James Wilson x peds!reader

Season 1 episode 18 - Babies and Bathwater

description - Vogler is on the warpath, his only goal; the termination of Gregory House. James won't let this happen. But when his career is put on the line, your heart only tells you to do one thing.

warnings - angst, spoilers for s1 ep18, slight misogyny, crying, shouting

requested - no

word count - 1k

authors note - I remember this scene was the first time I actually screamed at the TV watching House. Also watching it back you can actually see his lip quiver when he mentions firing him.

a/n 2 - also props to the extra who offers Rsl pastries when he sits down for no reason - you give your all to that role girl!!

Masterlist

Requests open - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

“As most of you know, Dr Gregory House recently did a speech about me-“

I looked up as James entered the room and took his place next to me. He slotted our hands together under the table.

“-and I’m going to return the favour.” Vogler continued, acknowledging James’ tardiness. “Dr Wilson, I was hoping you were going to miss this one.” I furrowed my eyebrows at this. James was the Head of Oncology and a respected member of the board. Why would his presence be a hindrance?

“Here are some of House’s actions. Violation of a DNR, charged with assault. He brought a termite into the OR and spat on a surgeon. He accepted a corvette from a patient who was a known member of the New Jersey mafia-“

“Come on Ed look-“ one of the doctors cut in, trying to prevent him boring us with details of House’s antics that we were all well aware of. I was already counting down the minutes till I could leave, thinking this was going to be another failed coup at removing House. He would never be removed. He was too brilliant.

“Edward.” Vogler’s tone was sharp. Offering no room for argument. My blood suddenly ran cold. This wasn’t going to be a normal meeting.

“You look at anyone’s career you’ll find—”

“These are the last three months. He has personally had more complaints lodged against him than any department in this hospital.”

“Okay, he screwed up.” James finally spoke up. “He’s miserable. And he should probably re-read the ethics code.” I softly chuckled at this.

“Something funny Dr Y/l/n?”

“No, excuse me.” I shrunk back down in my chair.

James continued. “It works for him, he’s saved hundreds of lives- “

“He is a drug addict who flaunts his addiction and refuses to get treatment.” I suddenly became alert. I glared at Vogler for his surface level assessment of House.

“How do you know what he’s been through!” I spoke up despite James’ warning grasp of my arm.

“He is a disgrace and embarrassment to this hospital. I am going to keep this simple. Either House goes or I go.” Cuddy and I scoff at this. He would take away his money, that could save millions of lives, just because House doesn’t play well with others. James looks to Cuddy, waiting for her reaction.

“You gave us that money for a reason.” Cuddy attempted to bring the conversation back to medicine and the hospital. “You’re really going to throw it away over one doctor.”

“Gregory House is a symbol of everything wrong with the healthcare industry.” I wrapped my hand around James’ thigh as I could see it jumping up and down. He was getting angry. I had to keep him calm. “Waste, insubordination. Doctors preening like their kings and the hospital is their own private throne room. Healthcare is a business and I’m going to run it like one.” I loudly exhaled at this statement. Right there. His true colours shown. He was about business, not care.

“I hereby move to revoke the tenure of Dr Gregory House and terminate his employment at this hospital, effective immediately.”

“Don’t you think we should discuss this-“

Vogler shot me a threatening glare. “We just did.” James moved to rise from his seat, and I clamped my hand down harder. He compromised by placing his elbows on the table, directed towards Vogler. As if he was shielding me.

“The vote is on the table. All in favour?”

A hush fell over the room. But one by one, the doctors relented. Dollar bills were practically glittering in their eyes as they each raised their hands in favour. James and I looked around in disbelief. My colleagues, people I would consider my friends. Turning on one of their own, and for what? Money? I waited patiently for Cuddy. I tried pleading with her through my eyes, willing her to put a stop to this. Her hand went up.

Vogler owned them and he knew it. But he didn’t own James, and he knew that.

He noticed the stillness of James and me.

“The motion is defeated. Dr Wilson would you mind stepping out of the room?”

“Excuse me?” James couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“We’re gonna take another vote.”

“Well, first of all, you can’t void my vote by making me stand in the hallway. Second, you should check the by-laws. You need notice and at least one business day before you can reconsider any matter.”

“We’re voting on another matter over which you are conflicted out of. Actually, you’re little girlfriend too--”

“Address her as Dr Y/l/n.” James’ voice raised to indicate his seriousness. “And how can we be conflicted?”

“This vote is whether to dismiss Dr James Wilson.” I saw the light leave James’ eyes. This job was his life. He worked so hard; he didn’t deserve this. His lip quivered as if he was going to speak. But after looking around at the lowered heads of his colleagues, he relented and got up to leave.

“No!” I pushed my chair away harshly. All eyes were on me, including James’ which were soft and pleading.

“y/n, don’t do this. Not for me.”

“Yes, for you.” I turned back to Vogler, with unmatched anger. “Dr Wilson is the best oncologist in the whole damn state, you can’t just fire him, not after his years of service.” My voice was beginning to raise. “And what are you going to do just fire every doctor who disagrees with you? Where’s the ethics in that?”

“Y/n let it go. It’s over.” His voice was quiet, but I could hear it shake.

“Dr Y/l/n, you should listen to your boyfriend. He knows what’s good for you.”

“He goes. I go.”

“Nooo, Dr Y/l/n, this hospital will be lost without your crafting skills and tea parties.” He sarcastically said.  “Frankly, if I get rid of you, I’ll save money on resources and supplies. Don’t worry, I will find another head of paediatrics, one more focused on medicine rather than babysitting.” The tears were welling in my eyes, but I was stopped in my tracks by a sharp yell.

“HEY! Don’t talk about her. Ever.” I placed my hand on James’ chest before the termination was elevated to a restraining order.

“Let’s go.”

“No, you need to stay.”

“No. You go, I go. That’s the way it is.” I placed a gentle kiss on his lips and grabbed his hand. We walked out of the meeting. I made sure to slam the door on the way out just to be petty.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Vogler strutted into House’s office, pleased with the news he was about to deliver.

“How’s your soap?”

House refused to meet his eyes.

“Uneventful.”

“Really? Because I heard today, they fired the handsome Head of Oncology and the pretty princess of Paediatrics.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Remember You and Me Part 3/8

Summary - After a traffic accident reader is left with no memory of her life with Ruben, who desperately tries to get her to remember him.

Enjoy!

You spent most days inside because your recovery required it. You still had some aches and pain in your body, let alone in your head, so taking things easy was highly recommended by your doctors. You couldn't stand it though, being trapped in the house like an animal. On top of that Ruben was leaving you. He had previously made the choice to put his career on pause. He told you that he couldn't possibly play football knowing you were in the hospital. Now that you were out it was time for him to return. Back to his old life, hoping that you would do the same.

"My assistant will come by around three o'clock to check on you. If you need something,  anything, don't be afraid to tell him and he'll get it for you."

"Okay." You nodded.

"Alright, I'll see you later tonight."

"Tonight." You confirmed.

Ruben lingered in the doorway, watching you.

"What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing, it's just..."

"What?"

"It's nothing." He muttered on his way to shut the front door.

You crossed your arms. "Ruben, if there is something you wish for me to know you should tell me."

He scratched his beard. "Fine. Usually when we say goodbye..."

"Yes?"

"Well, usually when we say goodbye you also kiss me."

You batted your eyes. "Oh."

"Obviously we won't do that now." He was quick to add. "But it's something that we usually do, like on a regular."

"I see....okay."

"Okay?"

You nodded. "If it's something that we usually do....the doctors say that old habits might help with my memory and..."

"Of course..." Ruben coughed. "Your memory."

Silence fell. It was awkward. You took a step forward. Ruben seemed hesitant at first but removed his gym bag that hung across his shoulder.

"You sure about this?" He asked, tilting his head down to look at you.

"I'm sure." You nodded. Ruben wasn't the type of guy you would usually go for, but you could definitely see the appeal in him. He was typically handsome. Well built, charming and gentle. Any girl would want to be kissed by a man like him, maybe even you.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, his breath warm against the side of your face. Ruben had gone for the kiss and to your suprise he wasn't shy about it. He sort of got lost in it and so did you. There was even some tounge in there, more from Ruben than yourself.

"I get it." You smiled. "You haven't kissed your wife in a while, no?"

He shook his head, his forhead resting against yours. "No."

You remained like that, foreheads resting against each other.

"Did you um...did you feel...or remember anything?"

You stepped back. "No. I'm sorry Ruben."

He shook his head. "It's okay. The doctors said it would come to you sooner or later."

"Right."

"I should probably..." Ruben backed away, searching for his gym bag on the floor. He draped it over his shoulder and returned to the door. "I'll see you later tonight."

"See you." You waved.

He nodded and disappeared through the door. The house fell silent as you were left behind.

What now, you asked. Whatever the doctors recommended you weren't having it. You were no animal. You were not staying at home.

You had always been a sharp and independent woman as young. Beetje stront (Little shit) your dad used to call you. The many books in your room indicated that you were even sharper than you thought. They all came from the same place, the library of the University of Manchester. Maybe that is where you were supposed to be? Maybe that's where you would find yourself again?

By foot you got as far as to the city. For some reason you remembered how to get there, but then all the traffic and busy pedestrians seemed to throw you off. You suddenly found yourself in a part of town that you didn't recognize. You tried to use your phone to navigate your way home, but the streets all looked unfamiliar and you couldn't remember the name of the street that you lived on.

"Shit."

Panicked and disoriented, you wandered the streets for hours, unsure of where you were or how to get back home. Just when you were about to give up hope, somone called your name.

"Y/N! Is that you?"

It was a woman, waving to you from across the street.

"Y/N! Oh my god, it's so good to see you!" The woman exclaimed, rushing across the traffic to hug you. "What are you doing here? Why are you all alone?"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

The woman's expression faltered, her red lips parting in astonishment.

"I'm sorry I....Ruben told me you were out of the hospital and so I thought..."

"You know Ruben?" You asked.

"Of course I do. He and I used to...never mind. What are you doing here, are you shopping?"

"No, I'm lost and I can't find my way back home."

"I see." The woman observed you skeptically. She wore a blue dress, a long coat and a pair of high heels to go with it. She was really beautiful, you thought.

"Well let's get you back home then." She said and raised her hand to alert a taxi.

"Thank you." You said, feeling obligated to explain the situation with your memory.

The woman, who's name was Rachel, told you not to worry, or be embarrassed. "I'm a friend of Ruben's." She reassured.

"Fuck Y/N!" 

It was arpund six o'clock in the afternoon when the taxi reached the house. Ruben had already returned home from training by then.

"Where were you?" He asked. "Didn't I tell you to stay inside?" Ruben was both relieved and angry to see you. Apprently his assistant had been quick to alert him of your disappearance, forcing Ruben to leave training early. He hugged you tightly, tears of relief streaming down his face. "I was so worried about you," He said, voice shaking.

"I'm, sorry."

You didn't really understand his intense reaction to your brief disappearance.

"Rachel, I don't know how to thank you." He said, moving on to kiss the red haired woman on the cheeks.

"Well firstly you can stop being such a stranger Ruben. If I would have known that Y/N was in need of getting out more I would have taken her out myself."

"Thank you, that's very kind of you. But the doctors say that she needs to rest."

You rolled your eyes hearing Ruben talk about you, making life decisions for you.

"If you say so. Just know that I'm one call away." Rachel waved goodbye. Once she left it was just the two of you again, you, Ruben and your big house.

"I'm going to bed." You announced and disappeared upstairs.

Ruben seemed like he needed time alone to cool off. You understood his concern for you but why did he feel the need to keep you locked up? A trip to the city wouldn't kill you.

Later there was a knock on your door. It was Ruben, looking ready for bed himself.

"We need to talk." He said.

You stepped aside for him to enter what used to be his bedroom too.

"What happened today can't happen again." He said.

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N, you left the house without telling me. How was I supposed to know where you went, if you were even alright."

"I'm alright Ruben, I can take care of myself."

"No you can't." He said, raising a finger for you to stay silent and just listen to him. "You still have no memory, of me or us. You couldn't even remember the adress back to our house. I can't let you go outside knowing you might be lost somewhere, wandering the streets of Manchester. That much you must understand?"

You nodded. "You're right, I'm sorry."

He sighed, running a hand down his face. "I just don't know what I would do if somthing happened to you again."

"It won't." You reassured. Seeing him like this, all shook up. It did somthing to you. Inside.

"Come here." He said, but it was more him coming to you, holding you tight, afraid of letting go.

"I did remember something." You mumbled, from beneath the pit of his strong arms.

"You what?" Ruben let go, holding arms length instead.

You smiled. "I remembered something."

"You did, well w...what was it?"

You sat down on the foot of your bed, recalling the day. "I remember wanting to go somewhere, somewhere in the city."

Ruben knelt down before you. "Okay, do you remember where or what this place looked like?"

"Yes, I think it was a school. The school you told me where I did my research. I saw myself in a lab, measuring things."

"That's great Y/N. You're starting to get memories of your life back."

"Yes, but I think what triggered it was going outside, facing the world, you know?"

"Y/N." Ruben looked worried. "The doctors said..."

"I know what the doctors said, I was there. But what if I could leave the house two or even once a week. Would it be that bad?"

Ruben looked to contemplate. If the choice was his alone he wouldn't recommend it, but somehow he knew that the choice was yours and that he shouldn't stop you.

"Okay." He nodded. "I'll call the doctors tomorrow, ask them if it's possible. If it is, then I'll arrange for someone to take you to the University twice a...."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." You rushed to hug him, his frame too solid to be moved by your sudden ambush. It felt good, hugging Ruben.

"You should get some sleep." He whispered, a hand stroking your head.

You tilted up to look at him. He was already looking down at you. Neither of you said anything although there was something you felt drawn to do. You rose to stand on your toes. Ruben caught you with a hand between your shoulder blades. The kiss was rushed but sensed long after your lips parted.

"Goodnight Ruben."

He smiled and backed away towards the door. "Goodnight Y/N. Sleep tight."

[skylarmoon71]

Miguel O' Hara (Across the Spiderverse) - AU: Extra 2

The morning routines at your respective places on days off are your favorite part.

You spend a good bit of time brushing your teeth and adoring Miguel’s cute bed hair. 

After a nice hot shower, you admire his wet hair which makes him look like a frazzled kitty when it flops in his face, or a model when he slicks it back after your teasing.

You go through your little series of skin care. You even manage to get him to do one of your mud masks.

Once the heavy stuff is done, sometimes he offers to dry your hair.

More like begs.

You relent with a smile, watching him in the mirror run the towel through it so carefully. For a while he looks content, but when his smile drops you’re worried.

“What’s wrong?”

His thumb brushes a spot on your neck, and the slight ache answers that question.

“Does it hurt?”

You shake your head with a smile.

“Not at all.”

The faded bite mark is easy to spot. After that first little trip with his powers, he was adamant on avoiding it, but it seemed almost impossible because there were times you’d pretty much beg for it, and he’s always been a bit weak to you.

He always did this after.

Looked like a kicked puppy when he saw the marks, even though you’re the one who keeps egging him on.

“I promise I’m okay.”

He’s still pouting.

“If you don’t fix that look I won’t be giving you kisses for a whole day.”

You see the way his shoulders stiffen and you internally laugh.

“Why is he so cute!!”

You might have just hit the jackpot with this one.

Literally.

You turn to him with the biggest smile, urging him to do the same when you cup his cheeks. He just looks away bashfully.

You absolutely love this guy.

For the rest of the day you both lounge around his place. He has a few things to handle and you have a couple tasks that you need to catch up on as well before work tomorrow. Wearing one of his shirts, you make your way to the kitchen in search of something to drink.

You’re not really paying much attention to anything other than your thirst, that’s until you see a flash of light from the living room. You quirk a brow, straightening.

“What in the…”

Your voice trails off and you close the fridge, now invested. Moving towards the living room, you peek your head out, looking for just about anything. Eyes shifting left and right, you don’t see a thing, so you decide maybe you should run to the room and enlist the help of your superpowered boyfriend, just in case.

You move to the hallway to do just that, but something big and gray flashes past your eyes and you scream when you’re tackled to the floor.

The minute he hears your scream, Miguel is in fight mood.

“(Y/N)!!”

He dashes through the room, claws drawn, eyes red.

When he sees your legs from behind the couch, it looks like he’s ready to remove any threat to your life. He steps around, about to strike and the animal he sees on top of you, well it’s safe to say its days are numbered.

“What the hell are you doing to my girl!!”

He’s about to rip it off you.

“W-Wait Miguel!!”

He only stops when he sees you sit upright. He initially thought that you were in danger, but now that you’re both in clear view he is confused and maybe still a bit tense.

His shoulders are set like he’s ready for battle, and you slowly stand, holding said animal in your hands. He’s glad there isn’t a threat, but he can’t seem to comprehend what kind of animal you’re now holding like it’s a puppy or an oversized cat. You’re holding it under its short arms, if he can truly call it that.

“Is that a…”

“Yep, it’s like some shark dog hybrid thing! Isn’t it cute!”

Said animal smiles, and the row of sharp teeth look anything but cute.

How could you even think that?

Although he probably shouldn’t be surprised. You are one of the few people that uses that adjective for him. Maybe you just like dangerous looking things.

“His name is Jeff.”

Miguel is baffled.

“D-Did you already name it!”

“Of course not, that’s what its collar says.”

You move to the couch, taking a seat, and it curls into your lap happily, looking over at you with its tongue out as if waiting for instruction. You turn back to Miguel with the brightest smile and his face goes blank.

“No.”

“Come on! Look at this face.”

You grab it’s cheeks, and it lets out a sound.

“Mrrr!”

“See he’s happy!”

He should have known today would have been a hassle.

Miguel takes a seat, glaring at the animal.

“I heard you scream, wasn’t it attacking you?”

“I thought so at first, but look at this.”

You turn your back to him, and when you part your hair to show him your shoulder he’s a bit shocked. The prominent mark that was once on your skin has completely disappeared.

“Crazy right? All he did was lick my neck and it completely healed. I thought I was just in shock or something.”

Miguel’s eyes narrowed.

It’s still settled in your lap and now it’s wagging its tail, fin thing.

“Do you think it came out of one of those portals? I saw a flash in the living room. I was about to come see you but then he came barreling in. He must have been scared. Were you scared boy?”

It places its little paws on your stomach with another smile and you melt.

“Why do you seem to be attracted to dangerous things?”

“Not sure, it might be a disease.”

You joke.

He’s about to scold you, but the room lights up, and Miguel sighs when he recognizes the multicolor portal.

You’re a bit surprised when Miguel’s doppelganger walks out. He looks relieved the second he sets his sights on Jeff.

“I thought he’d be here. I told you not to mess with the watch.”

He sounds like a scolding parent and Jeff lowers his head like a puppy.

Spiderman sighs.

“Come on, your mom is worried.”

He jumps to life, and turns to you wagging his tail. With a long lick to your cheek, you find yourself giggling as he jumps off and unto Spiderman’s shoulder.

“Sorry about that. He’s smart. When he gets bored he messes with the tech.”

You stand.

“It’s not a problem. What exactly is he?”

“This is Jeff, he’s a lank shark.”

Jeff is just happily sitting there with the cutest little smile on his face.

Miguel steps to your side.

“I’d appreciate it if you kept your animals on a leash. I don’t like strange hybrids attacking (Y/N).”

“He’s not a threat to you, or her. If anything you should feel happy. Back home, she’s his mom.”

That sort of makes sense.

“So that’s why he tackled me. He thought I was his mother.”

Spiderman nods.

“Your scents are the same. It’s difficult to distinguish.”

You tilt your head, turning to Miguel.

“Is that true?”

“You smell better.” Miguel informs.

Spiderman glares.

“Are you insinuating that my girl does not?”

He looks pissed and you laugh awkwardly, stepping in front of them. Jeff looks between both of them, then tilts his head in question.

“I’m sure that’s not what he meant. Y-You should probably get going before his mom gets anymore worried. Right?”

Spiderman still appears to be glaring, but he backs down.

“Fine.”

He turns his back and Jeff moves onto his shoulder, waving one of his little arms. You gush as they both disappear into the portal as you wave happily. The second the circular portal is gone, you grin.

“Thanks for protecting my honor.”

You joke.

Miguel just huffs.

“I wish weird animals wouldn’t stick so close to you.”

“Come on, it was one animal, no need to get all crazy, you’re still my favorite.”

“It sounds like you’re placing me in the same category.”

“Never.”

He narrows his eyes and you just flutter your eyelashes innocently.

He just pulls you into a kiss, and you laugh internally.

“What a cutie.”

~Extra~

Stopping at your place was always nice. For one, he’s realized that he’s very spoiled. Your bed is a bit smaller than his, so he has more of an excuse to stick close to you.

You’re the one who always wants to cuddle, but he’s the one who absolutely loves it. That’s why when he texts you, he expects the usual, yet that’s not what he got.

“I’m a little busy Miguel, can you maybe come back later?”

He was standing outside your door.

“I’m outside, but if you’re busy I don’t mind stopping by later. Is there anything that you need help with?”

He at least wanted to see your face before he left.

The crash however made him a bit panicked, and he just reacted, reaching for the knob. He planned to rip it off if he needed to, but the door was open.

Not a great sign.

He dashed inside, dropping his briefcase as the door slammed shut.

“(Y/N)!!”

He was worried and when you stumbled into the living room with an awkward smile, he straightened, confused.

“Are you alright?”

He was ready to drop kick any threat, but you looked more like a child who’d been caught with their hand in the cookie jar than a hostage.

“I’m fine! Everything is fine!”

You glanced at the bedroom door and he eyed you suspiciously.

When he raised a brow and folded his arms, you knew you couldn’t keep up the act.

“Okay, okay, promise you won’t get mad.”

“Why would I get mad?”

You moved back, opening the door to your room and he was startled when a black dragon jumped out and tackled you to the floor. You were giggling as it continued to lick your face and Miguel just gaped.

“Are..Are you kidding me!!”

You finally stood, petting the dragon that stood at attention when it saw Miguel’s expression. You were just smiling with a little nervous laugh.

“I’m not sure what his name is but it should be Toothless because he has retractable teeth. He came through one of those portal things. Isn’t he cute!”

You turned to Toothless and his tongue was sticking out, dark eyes marveling at you like a pet dog. His mouth opened and Miguel was surprised when the sharp row of teeth seemed to pop up from under its gums. His smile was wide and you wore a similar one.

“Can we keep him?”

“N-No!”

You pout.

“Fine. I’m pretty sure he has an owner anyway. I’m just looking out for him until he gets here.”

Miguel placed his palm over his face with a sigh.

Obviously you’re a magnet for the strange interdimensional animals. 

[wisssp]

Whistling in the Dark

i'll say it louder for the people in the back- this is a Weasley twins x oc piece. don't read it if you don't like it(:

{didn't expect to get another chapter so soon did you???}

female reader; first person pov; slow burn; smut; minors-DNI

wc: 1,612

Chapter 11

~Lee~

{The day prior}

At 8 pm sharp, I was stood in front of the boys' door. I was wearing an old, plain white t-shirt with my ripped jeans and converse, hoping I wasn't under-dressed. Before I could knock, the door swung open and revealed an empty room. I slowly walked in, not really knowing what to expect.

"Fred? George? Should I come back?" I speak loudly into the open space and take a couple more steps forward. The door quietly shut behind me and I felt a hand cover my mouth. There was a brief moment where I panicked, until the scent of cinnamon and vanilla engulfed me.

Fred.

"You are not ready for what is about to happen." He whispers in my ear, sending chills down my spine. The kiss he placed below my ear shortly after didn't help much either. He removes his hand and guides me towards the opposite wall, where the window was sitting wide open. He stands beside me and tugs my arm downward. "Oh, you're probably going to want to sit for this."

I sit down and look out at the night sky before us. The dark grey clouds mixed almost seamlessly with the navy sky. If it weren't for the twinkling stars peaking through, the sky would resemble the strokes of a paintbrush. A couple minutes go by and I continue to enjoy the view, when all of a sudden I feel Fred nudging me with his elbow. I look over at him and he's smiling ear to ear.

"Look up." He nods his head toward the ceiling.

It's beautiful. Swirling galaxies and stars hung down, almost close enough to touch. I heard the window close and saw George sit down as well. My mouth hung open from the pure shock of having the night sky trapped in a bedroom. I look back down to see both of the boys staring at me, grinning like maniacs.

"Since you've moved over here, we've noticed you like to get lost in the stars. So while we've been working on some prototypes for our own thing, we wanted to do this for you." George uncorked this empty bottle in his hands and stood up. The mass of stars and space matter was pulled straight into it, almost like a vacuum. He quickly corked it back up and placed it in my hands.

"This is your little galaxy. You can let it loose anytime you wish, as long as the environment you're in is stable. You can also just keep it in the bottle and swirl it around if you'd like. Seriously, whatever you want to do with it." George's cheeks start to tinge pink.

"Brother, you're rambling." Fred claps a hand on his shoulder. "Basically what he means to say, is this is a metaphor. Our interest in you has been growing and growing at a rate which we can't control, kind of like the universe. This is kind of our way of showing you. It's also because your ass is out of this world-" I cut him off by smacking his shoulder, earning me a chuckle. I tilted my head to the side and pulled Fred in for a hug, clinging tightly to his neck.

"I love it. Thank you." I whisper in his ear. If I didn't know any better, i'd say he shuddered but I could be over analyzing things. Shortly after the embrace, I release him and make my way over to George. I look up in his eyes and brush some hair out of the way.

"This is extremely sweet. I seriously can't believe you guys did this for me. Thank you so much." I place my hand on the back of his neck and bring him down to my level. I softly place my lips on his and he instantly starts kissing me back. I start kissing him harder as his hands find my waist and drift to the small of my back, pulling me in closer. My hands end up in his hair and I soon feel his tongue tracing my lips, almost as if he's asking for entrance. I let him in and fight for dominance, moaning at the way he tastes. He pulls away to get a few deep breaths. His eyes look darker, almost starved. Sweet mint lingers on my lips, making me want more.

"Holy fuck, Lady Bird." Fred pipes up. I looked over and smirked at him. I let his brother go and took a few steps toward him. I gripped his shirt in my fist and pulled him down, his lips crashing into mine. His tongue immediately forces its way into my mouth, the flavor of cinnamon flooding my taste buds. He lets out a low growl and wraps his arms around my waist, squeezing me tight. He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist, his hands drifting down to the underside of my thighs.

I pull away for a quick breath and see George leaned back against the bedpost. His eyes are wild and his hair is messy, like he's been running his hands through it. I make eye contact with him and smirk, causing him to groan. Fred turns us a bit so I now have a clear view of George over his shoulder. Fred starts kissing my neck and I regain the eye contact I had with George. I tilt my head to the side, giving Fred more access. I let out a moan and bite my lip, making sure I keep that eye contact. I point at George and then curl my finger, beckoning him over. He doesn't skip a beat and he makes his way over. I feel Fred start to nip and bite at my neck, causing me to moan a bit more. George's hand then grips my hair and pulls my head more to the side, giving his brother a bit more room before he captures my next moan with his lips. He starts biting and sucking my bottom lip, driving me fucking crazy.

I didn't know George had this side to him.

I pull back for another breath and George steps back, walking over towards the window. Fred places me back on my feet and I am a hot and bothered mess. I glance at the clock which was a big mistake. Everyone was supposed to be in their house dorms in 4 minutes. I clap my hands together.

"Alright boys, as much as I don't want this to end- and trust me I really don't- I don't want to get another detention so much more. I will see you guys tomorrow. Have the sweetest dreams. Oh, and seriously, thank you for this. It means a lot to me." I grab the bottled galaxy off of Fred's dresser and head to the door. They both look at the clock and then look at me with wide eyes and rush to walk me out. We all get to the door of the Gryffindor common room when the boys decide to block my path.

"Okay seriously i'm going to miss curfew and I don't want that. It's not the time to fuck around." I cross my arms over my chest.

"You can't leave without a kiss." They state firmly in unison and mirror me, crossing their arms over their chests. I smile and roll my eyes, giving them both a quick kiss.

"Now move!" I push between them and open the door. I run at full speed down the corridors until I reach the barrels and tap the sequence. I make it in with a minute to spare. I stop in the common room to catch my breath and see that Cedric, Michael, and Anthony were sitting on the couch. They all stopped their conversation and tuned into me and my harsh breathing.

"Sorry guys, don't mind me." I manage to get out between breaths.

"Where have you been off to?" Cedric places his arm on the back of the couch and smirks, his arrogance filling the room.

"Where were you taught to mind your business? That's right, your mom's house." With that I turned around and walked up the steps to my room. I walk in and see that Paige is sitting in bed, reading. I debated on talking to her about the whole Ron situation but frankly I am exhausted.

"Hello, beloved sister. I am so unbelievably tired and I honestly would love nothing more than to fall into a deep slumber. Can we save our stories of today for tomorrow?" I drop my bag on the floor and fall into bed while she laughs at me.

"Of course. Thank you for being clear and honest with me. I hope your slumber is bountiful and I hope your dreams are pleasant. Get your rest." She smiles at me and turns the main light off, but keeping her reading light on.

About 15 minutes go by and I hear her switch her light off, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I really don't know what i'm getting myself into. I really, really enjoy both of the boys but I really don't want to cause any problems between them. They didn't seem worried about that when they both were devouring me, but I better prepare myself for when that day comes. I really don't know how i'll feel or how all of this will go but I guess I really just have to take a step back and let it run its course.

I toss and turn a couple times until I get comfortable, soon drifting off into a very peaceful sleep.

[labyrinthhofmymind]

snippet of chapter 5 of ‘Don’t Forget Me’ by labyrinth_ofmymind!

It’s Remus’ 16th birthday, and the marauders are hosting one of their infamous parties in the Gryffindor common room.

There’s people everywhere, Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and even some Slytherins in attendance, but no one cares about that in the slightest. They’re all just looking to get very drunk.

And celebrate Remus turning sixteen of course.

Sirius and James are in the centre of the room dancing to a song Mary isn’t familiar with and screaming the lyrics at the top of their lungs. Remus is standing on the sidelines, watching them both with a loving smile, his eyes never leaving them even for a second. On closer expectation Mary can notice that Remus isn’t paying any mind to James, and it’s instead Sirius who he can’t look away from. It makes Mary smile.

Granted, everything makes Mary smile because she’s very drunk right now.

“Babe, do you want another refill?” Andrew asks, slinging his arm around Mary’s waist and kissing her cheek. She giggles but gives a fierce shake of her head. Andrew plants another kiss on her cheek before disappearing into the crowd.

She watches him leave, but eventually her eyes scan the room, not for any particular reason, but just because she wants to look around and see who’s here. To no surprise basically everyone they know has shown up, even Alice and Frank from the year above and people from lower year levels like Kingsley and Gilderoy Lockhart. Although nobody is particularly thrilled Lockhart’s here.

Mary feels quite content just standing there observing until Andrew comes back when her eyes land on Marlene.

And suddenly Andrew becomes a very distant thought for her.

Because Marlene is in a tight black mini dress, with black boots, and her hair is out, and her makeup is done, with sharp eyeliner and a red lip, and she's taking a sip of her drink, and she's laughing and she looks so good and and and and and-

Mary is drunk, so Mary can rush over to her best friend and spin her around, which is exactly what she does.

“Look at you!” Mary squeals with delight, taking Marlene’s hands in hers and trying to get her to sway along with the music. Marlene, who was previously talking to Lily, rolls her eyes and grins.

“Alright Mars, calm down.” She says, but Mary can tell she’s pleased, and that means everything to her.

“You’re so pretty, isn’t she pretty!” Mary continues, because God Marlene is pretty and everyone should know it.

“She is very pretty indeed.” Lily agrees from the side, her eyes darting quickly between Mary and Marlene.

“Ok we get it, Mary. Clearly, you’re very drunk.” Marlene intervenes, but doesn’t make any effort to remove her hands from Mary’s or walk away.

“Only a little bit.” She admits sheepishly, pulling Marlene in close and whispering it in her ear. “Don’t tell anyone though.”

Suddenly Marlene pushes her back, dropping her hands quickly, and it’s at this point Mary can tell Marlene isn’t playing around anymore and looks visibly annoyed and… uncomfortable? Mary is unsure why though.

“I should go find… Dorcas. Make sure she’s not being harassed by any Gryffindors.” Marlene bites out, glancing at Lily before proceeding to walk away, much to Mary’s dismay.

“No wait! Dorcas is fineeee Marls. Dance with me, please?” Mary blurts out, gently grabbing a hold of Marlene’s wrist and using her best puppy dog eyes. Usually it works on Marlene pretty quickly, but tonight she seems more stubborn than usual.

“What about Andrew? Why don’t you go dance with him? He is your boyfriend after all.” Marlene replies back, her tone quipped and short. Mary can even see her body physically tense up from the conversation.

“He went somewhere. Probably to go get a drink, who cares? I want to dance with my best friend!” Mary says with a smile and a cheeky wink, and that… that seems to do it. Because the next thing Mary knows Marlene huffs out a sigh and says “Alright Mars. Let’s dance.”

So Mary and Marlene drag each other onto the dance floor, and as if the universe timed it perfectly, ‘Honey Honey’ by ABBA starts to play. Given Mary has been obsessed with the song ever since it came out, constantly singing it in their door room and making Marlene memorise the lyrics, Mary couldn’t be happier with the song choice. And clearly someone secretly snuck some disco onto the party playlist because Remus would never allow ABBA on his watch.

“It’s our song! It’s our song! It’s our song!” Mary chants, jumping up and down and swaying Marlene side to side, who is smiling and laughing along with Mary, making her more energetic and excited.

The chorus comes on, and of course Mary sings at the top of her lungs, not taking her eyes off Marlene as she does so;

Honey, honey, let me feel it, aha, honey, honey

Honey, honey, don't conceal it, aha, honey, honey

The way that you kiss goodnight (the way that you kiss me goodnight)

The way that you hold me tight (the way that you holding me tight)

I feel like I wanna sing when you do your thing!

They continue to sing and dance, Mary twirling Marlene around and pulling her in close, the both of them swaying along together, their bodies pressed in so close, Mary can smell Marlene’s hair.

Lavender.

It’s fun and silliness, it’s joyful and exciting, and Mary doesn’t want the song to end. She could dance with Marlene until her legs gave out, and even then, she would keep on dancing.

Unfortunately, like all good things, the song does make its conclusion, but the disappointment doesn’t last long, as ‘Best Friend’ By Queen immediately starts filling the common room.

And, well…

It’s safe to say Mary pulls Marlene in for another dance. Given the song, this one is a lot slower, but Mary doesn’t mind. It means she can be close to Marlene and smell her hair again, and feel what it's like for Marlene to touch her so softly.

Oh, you're the first one

When things turn out bad

You know I'll never be lonely

You're my only one and I love the things

I really love the things that you do (ooh)

Mary sings to Marlene again, this time only whispering the lyrics into her ear. Marlene doesn’t pull away this time, instead letting Mary hold her and get close. Their hands are interlocked, their bodies slightly swaying side to side, Marlene’s head resting on Mary’s shoulder.

Mary sings the words, and she’s never heard any song sound so true.

Because Marlene is her best friend, and she makes Mary live, and she really really loves her.

Oh she really really does.

this is only a small part of the flashback!!! i love it sm!!!

[zenkor123]

The beginning of Katniss's rotation 6 AM October 8 75 DD WIP

Restraining order removed in evening of October 7, this is the begining of Katniss's rotation, Peeta is heavily drunk on morphling that he drunk just 30 minutes before. It is 6 AM.

"why does she want to end it all with an attempt on Snow when she has her home family pet, fame, a life with Gale, much of her childhood friends from her district, lots of friends including the other victors, Why is she so down when Peeta is lucky to not be spending the rest of his life in a mental institution has no memories does not know his birthday, and his family was killed, Rubius Mayne was forced to do secretary work in Snows mansion and endured far worse and neither he nor Mayne has a death wish, death is nothing special to them. Snow is going to lose the war and not survive. Do you blame yourself for the war? Snow set up the system and even without the berries it was not meant to last. Is it the insecurity of seeing the face of the person who Redacted and strangled you every single day? Do you think there is no life without me trying to kill you so you want to kill Snow for this? What did Snow do to you? So stop looking at me like I'm the worst thing that ever happened to you, that you just can't stand my presence, your not so special Katniss Everdeen. I have a sense that this is about me.  "Yeah I know what happened before I was mutated you were(goes on about about SA delusions) and I'm sorry about that, Peeta received more than enough retribution for this, and I have no attraction to you don't worry, but what does that have to do with killing Snow and why is it getting worse? I imagine you would be happy to know that he suffered and is gone and I don't believe any of the bull crap that was forced down my throat in the Capitol. You need to talk about this with someone because if you lose your mind your going to be given an apartment in the hospital wing with me and Annie, I've always signaled misfortune for you and in the process of escaping it I will be this again without me doing anything then wanting to live my life and frankly you should be in the hospital wing, or at least talking to Dr Aurelius once a week. None of this is my problem but I was selling Morphling to Boggs at 2 in the morning  and I heard you screaming my name over and over again, I thought it was an Hallucination. someone needs to tell you to seek help and since no one has told you this yet I guess it had to be me out of all people. ||If your going to dream of me (SA delusions)|| then  Keep it to yourself or I will request to have your room soundproofed. 

'"if there's anyone who needs to go to the hospital its you Peeta, you were tortured, your mind destroyed and were made into a weapon and you think that makes you strong, you know who was the first person to call you a runt?, Your mom, did also do you really think that Snow didn't know what he was doing when he tried to sell you like Finnick? He set you and Annie up to kill those clients, yet like a fool you fell for it.' Peeta is triggered by being mother shamed:

You know I'm not the only mutt created to destroy you, the capitol created reptilian mutts that hunt in packs, and probably are attracted to your scent, they have sharp teeth, and they whisper your name "Katnissssss" they are trained on live avoxes, the odds of your capture are also pretty high and if he captures you your torture may be livestreamed and your death may be like Darius's death, slow, you cannot be mentally well to want to risk this also a death from an arrow is too quick for white imp, my favorite idea is using one of the capitol replicated scents, attaching it to Snow and feeding him to those lizard mutts but if Snow is to die before the end of the war, (Peeta laughs about how fucked up that idea is) I would recommend a bunker buster or poison gas though many Avox innocents would be killed"

"No I want to see Snow's face before he dies, he took you from me and hijacked you, a debt must be paid! and before you go on about rape, you made that up" Peeta begins expositing his SA delusions and Katniss tells him it never happens and reveals the stay with me always, nights on the train, night before the quarter quell,

[charliewrites-stuff]

An Unlikely Alliance

Prince Caspian x oc (Lillian Monroe)

Slight Peter Pevensie x oc

Words: 2.1k

Chapter 4

Series masterlist

A sharp shooting pain in the side of his head is what awakes the prince from his involuntary slumber, well that and the two voices that he is sure he doesn’t recognise coming from the next room in the place which he is very certain that he doesn’t belong in. The pain hits once again whilst he tries to sit up and he places his hand over his head feeling a bit of fabric which he discovers to be a bandage wrapped securely around where he was previously whacked. After his eyes adjust to the new light and surroundings he carefully removes the bandage and places it on the tiny bed. The sound of voices gets louder, as if the people are arguing and aren’t aware that the prince has woken up.

“This bread is so stale�� the first complains.

“I’ll just get him some soup then, he should be coming around soon” the other compromises.

“I don’t think I hit him hard enough.”

“Nikabrik, he’s just a boy!”

“He’s a Telmarine, not some lost puppy! You said you were going to get rid of him”

Caspian slowly makes his way towards the opening to the other room pressing his back against the door, listening into the conversation.

“No, I said I'd take care of him. We can’t kill him now, I just bandaged his head. It would be like murdering a guest.”

“How’d you think his friends are treating their guest?”

“Trumpkin knew what he was doing. It’s not the boy’s fault.”

The prince decides that he’s heard enough and makes a run for the front door, worried that the dwarf may be able to convince the badger to side with him and not the other way around. He knocks into the badger making him let out a shout as he drops the soup he had prepared for the boy and whilst doing so the dwarf manages to grab a sword and block the exit, making the prince grab the nearest thing he can use as a weapon which happens to be a fire poker. 

“Stop! Stop!” the badger shouts, trying to get the two to stop their fight. “Hold it. No! No!”

“I told you we should have killed him when we had the chance,” Nikabrik exclaims.

“You know why we can't,” the badger urges.

“If we’re taking a vote, I'm with him,” Caspian tries to reason.

“We can’t let him go. He’s seen us.” the Dwarf shouts, swinging his sword successfully knocking the Prince to the ground.

“Enough Nikabrik! Or do I have to sit on your head again?”

The Prince looks between the two Narnias, highly confused and probably still slightly concussed before the badger turns to him bending down to retrieve the discarded bowl.

“And you. Look what you made me do. I spent half the morning on that soup.”

“What are you?” Caspian asks, watching the badger make his way towards the kitchen.

“You know, it’s funny that you would ask that. You think more people would know a badger when they saw one.”

“No. No I mean… you’re Narnians. You’re supposed to be extinct.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Nikabrik snarks, turning back towards the table to sit down whilst the badger comes back with a bowl of soup that he places down on the table.

“Here you go, still hot” he offers.

“Since when did we open a boarding house for Telmarine soldiers?”

“I’m not a soldier,” the prince explains, standing up with the fire poker still in hand, “I am Prince Caspian. The tenth.”

The dwarf looks at the badger in slight shock before asking “what are you doing here?”

“Running away,” he explains walking back over to the fire to put the poker back. “My uncle has always wanted my throne. I suppose I have only lived this long because he did not have any heir of his own.”

The two Narnia's sit in silence for a moment taking in the information before the badger lets out a soft sigh.

“That changes things”

“Yeah, means we don’t have to kill you ourselves” the dwarf adds on leaning back in his seat.

“You’re right” the prince admits before looking around and is suddenly hit with the realisation that he hasn’t seen Lillian. “Where’s my friend? Is she hurt?”

“She’s with our friend, the people who were after you took them both” Nikabrik replies bitterly.

Caspian suddenly moves very quickly towards where he can see his armour resting, annoyed with himself that he didn’t notice the lack of her presence sooner, he quickly shrugs on his armour and the badger gets up to follow him.

“Where are you going?” he asks urgently.

“My uncle won't stop until I'm dead. My friend she could be in trouble or worse…” he trails off, not even wanting to finish that particular thought.

“But… you can’t leave,” the badger tries to reason, picking up Queen Susan's horn, “you’re meant to save us. Don’t you know what this is?” he asked, lifting the horn up so everyone could see it. Caspian stares at the horn for a long moment before he shakes his head and turns towards the door opening it and ducking slightly.

“I really am sorry, but I have to find my friend. She’s saved my life in more ways than one, I owe her mine.”

—------

The boat is dead silent as they make their way through the river in the ravine, the only sound being the occasional splashing of water whenever Peter moves the oars. Trumpkin is sat at the front of the boat, the two sisters sat on the bench in front of him, in the middle is Peter who has taken the job of rowing the boat and in front of him is Lilian who is sat with her back against the wood of the bench that Edmund is occupying using the space to take control of the direction of the boat. To be honest they could all really do with a bit more space. Lillian is currently tracing the lines of the wood of the boat and Peter is not so subtly looking at her with interest, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by his younger brother who stifles a little smirk.

“They’re so still” Lucy whispers, causing the attention of the five others to be placed on the youngest of the group.

“They’re trees. What’d you expect?”

“They used to dance.” the just Queen explains with a small pout on her lips and Lillian can’t help but feel sympathetic. Afterall she can’t imagine coming back to a world 15 years younger than the last time she was there after over a thousand years had passed.

“Wasn’t long after you left that the Telmarines invaded.” the dwarf explains, glancing at Lillian for a brief moment. “Those who survived retreated to the woods and the trees, they retreated so deep into themselves they haven’t been heard from since.”

“I don’t understand,” the young girl starts, not believing how such a terrible thing could have happened, “how could Aslan have let this happen?”

“Aslan?” he scoffs, “thought he abandoned us when you lot did.” The comment causes all four of the Pevensies to stop what they were doing to look at the dwarf for a moment before Peter continues rowing the boat.

“We didn’t mean to leave, you know.” the high King defends, looking at the dwarf one last time.

“Makes no difference now, does it?”

“Get us to the Narnians… and it will” he promises, putting an end to the conversation.

Lilian sits up in the boat, directing her attention to the dwarf before voicing her thoughts, “you know it’s a shame that they discovered you when they were chasing us, we could have used the fact that everyone thought you were all extinct to our advantage.”

“Too late now, hopefully your boy blowing that horn gathered the attention of the rest of us, they may be coming up with a plan, that or they kill him for being a Telmarine.” Lily’s heart drops to her stomach at the suggestion that her friend could be dead, an immense feeling of dread sinking in, the two hadn’t been apart for this long before and she can only hope that he is also doing ok and isn’t on his own.

The boat journey continues for another twenty minutes before the group of six arrive at shore. Trumpkin jumps out of the boat first making his way far enough to be able to place the anchor in a secure place, the rest of the group excluding the youngest of the siblings pull the rope dragging the boat onto the land and once they are satisfied they go to retrieve their belongings but are interrupted by the small voice belonging to the just Queen.

“Hello there” she says to the bear, believing it to be friendly. “It’s alright. We’re friends.”

“What is she doing?” Lillian asks the eldest brother, fear and confusion laced in her tone. 

“Don’t move your Majesty.” Trumpkin shouts and the bear begins to charge for the girl, making everyone quickly try to grab their weapons as Lucy starts to run back towards them.

“Stay away from her” Susan shouts, placing an arrow in her bow and aiming it at the bear hesitant to actually fire as the bear keeps chasing the young girl who trips over her dress and falls to the floor. During this time both Lillian and Trumpkin grab their bows, the latter being quicker to load his weapon.

“Shoot! Susan shoot!” Edmund screams, running towards his youngest sister with his sword drawn and his brother not far behind him. The bear jumps up and is about to attack the girl when an arrow flies past her and hits the bear square in the chest knocking him down. The three turn to look at where the arrow came from but instead of it coming from Susan like they suspected it would, it turns out it came from the dwarf who managed to fire his arrow a second earlier than Lillian who slowly points her bow to the ground, staring at the now dead bear.

“Why wouldn’t he stop?” the eldest daughter asks, upset and confused as to why the bear was so aggressive.

“I suspect he was hungry” the dwarf offers, walking past the siblings and towards the bear drawing a small sword. The others quickly follow the dwarf running to the youngest to see if she is alright. Peter reaches her first, picking her up from the ground and pressing her tightly into his side, pointing his blade at the bear in case it isn’t actually dead.

“Thanks” the youngest whispers, directing her attention to Trumpkin.

“He was wild?” Edmund observes, looking at the two who are from this world for guidance.

“I don’t think he could talk at all,” Peter states, rubbing circles on Lucy's shoulder in an attempt to comfort the girl.

“Get treated like a dumb animal long enough, that’s what you become.” The dwarf explains gravely, lifting up the sword, “you may find Narnia a more savage place than you remember.” He remarks, stabbing the bear with the sword causing Lucy to quickly bury her head in her brother's chest, letting out a quiet sob.

Lillain turns her attention to Susan who is stood next to the girl dead silent with a look of dread spread across her face which is unusually pale

“Hey, are you ok?” she asks quietly, trying not to capture the attention of the others. “She’s ok, are you?” Susan opens her mouth in an attempt to respond but the words fail to pass her lips so she just shakes her head and Lily quickly wraps an arm around the younger girl's shoulder.

“I hesitated.” she whispers, “ I hesitated and it almost cost her life.”

“Hey.” Lillian sternly says,”hey, look at me. I wouldn’t have let that happen, ok? None of us would have. There were five of us, Trumpkin just got there first.” A small tear falls and Lily quickly wipes it away and opens her arms to hug the girl, “come here, it’s ok, don’t cry she’s ok, everyone is ok.” However, the girl can’t help but be worried about a certain dark-haired prince and she isn’t too sure who she is trying to convince.

[oppitfs]

Words: + 2k Prompt: Healing the wounds and the heart. Warnings: This is funny. This is a post-Shibuya oneshot that has no Shibuya or Culling Games spoilers. Just a brief mention of Hakari that might leave anime confused, but just ignore that. It may also contain a lot of the word "blood" and possible post-traumatic stress on Yuji's part (I didn't think about this while writing, but there are some symptoms present) A/N: This oneshot came about after I had a nosebleed last month and instantly remembered that fight between Hakari X Yuji. So yeah, this is me working on Yuji's broken psyche while wishing someone would take care of my bleeding like Megumi did. Anyway, have a good read :D

Yuji felt like his head was broken into a thousand pieces.

Maybe because it's true.

Just maybe .

The beating he took from Hakari was nothing like anything he had ever felt, at least nothing he had accepted without fighting back. His ribs hurt where senpai's punches landed – it wasn't a lie when he said that his cursed energy was much greater than that of other sorcerers – and perhaps there are some broken bones in the chest area. This would explain why Yuji's breathing is labored, difficult even after rest.

Not that he cares.

If, for Hakari-san to listen to them, it is necessary to break every bone in his body and turn it into jelly, Yuji is more than willing to accept any punch, kick or blow.

What's more, he's starting to get used to the pain.

Blood runs from his nose, dripping onto his old bruised hands like water from a tap. The metallic taste, however, remained suffocated in the back of his throat and Yuji instinctively swallowed it. It seems so natural to him now, like blowing on hot food first or humming while eating ice cream – innocent things he'll never do again without constantly remembering the taste of blood and the smell of smoke.

Yuji took off his jacket, wrinkling his nose when he saw the state of it.

It's a disaster.

No, that's an understatement.

It's much worse.

The white fabric turned into a mess of rusty red. There are three large tears showing off ostentatiously and so much concrete dirt that it looks like it was used on some construction site instead of being a new jacket. Okay, maybe 'new' is an exaggeration since she was bought at a thrift store, but still... He knew it was stupid to be upset over just a piece of cloth, however, once the guilt set in his chest, it was impossible to get him out.

Yuji grunted, trying to remove a small mess of blood with his fingernail, but failing miserably. Red was engraved between the fibers of the fabric.

Fushiguro had used the last savings they had to buy this jacket, opting for something white so that he wouldn't lose sight of Yuji when they entered Hakari's fighting game, where men in black suits and fighters in other dark clothes could easily devour him. it.

"Not that that's really necessary..." Fushiguro commented vaguely as he changed out of his school uniform and into a black hoodie that Yuji found vaguely familiar, though it was hard to tell from the corner of his eye. He no longer wanted to think about how narrow his colleague's waist was. “Your hair attracts much more attention. It will be like finding cotton candy in the mud.”

Yuji's cheeks heated up at the memory... Or maybe he hit him harder than he thought.

Who knows...

Yuji jumped off the bench when the locker room door slammed shut.

Under the dim light of a single lamp, Fushiguro frowned at him, his spiky hair falling like a shadow before his very green and sharp eyes. The other boy locked the door without taking his eyes off Yuji, without blinking, without any other satisfied expression. Granted, it is still difficult for him to fully read Fushiguro, however, at least a relieved sigh should have come. Maybe a “ hey , good job”.

However, none of these things seemed to be about to happen.

Yuji swallowed.

“Fushiguro...”

The name echoed through the bathroom with a hoarse, choked tone, probably due to the injury Yuji had on his throat. Not that it was important, because any words that were about to come out were interrupted by Fushiguro, who approached quickly and stealthily like a wolf, taking the first aid kit from Yuji's hands and wandering into the bathroom in a determined manner, without any space. for conversation.

Yuji followed the hurried and firm movements, long fingers gripping a towel as he wet it in the dubious-looking sink. Fushiguro's eyebrows were furrowed tighter than usual, which certainly indicated that he was in another level of stress, almost bordering on fury. Yuji also noticed that Fushiguro had his lips pressed tightly together, but he didn't have much time to be sure when his friend looked away.

In the space of a minute, Fushiguro was back in front of Yuji, sitting so close that their knees bumped together. The damp towel was spread out expectantly.

“Want me to write you an invitation?” Fushiguro growls, pushing the damp fabric closer to Yuji's face. “Cooperate, Itadori.”

Yuji arched his eyebrow, his mouth open uselessly.

What... What's going on?

He had gotten Hakari to listen to them. A small victory in the war. The reason why the two traveled together, facing curses, and entered this place of clandestine fights.

So why does Fushiguro seem one step away from blowing him up?

“Fushiguro, what are you doing?”

The other boy smacked his lips in derision.

“Trying to clean up your bleeding, obviously. Hakari blasted your brain too?”

Before Yuji could respond, Fushiguro pushed the towel on his nose. The tightness that should have been painful was softened by the softness of the fabric, eliciting a relieved sigh from Yuji. The cold water softened his burning face, slightly dampening the fire of adrenaline that still existed.

By focusing on the cold, he didn't need to see the fire burning in Fushiguro's green eyes.

The two remained silent for a few minutes, just the sound of their breathing and the dripping of the tap between them. Fushiguro does a silent – and almost gentle – job of cleaning all the blood from Yuji's face, carefully touching the still tender wounds and cuts. It's nice, peaceful. It reminds him of when they arrived from missions, sitting in Shoko-sensei 's office , cleaning off the dried blood so that the jujutsu doctor wouldn't waste time looking for them. If this was one of those moments, Yuji would laugh at what a great nurse Fushiguro would be, which would definitely make his friend blush and kick him in the shin in retaliation.

But that time has passed.

Now, in this reality where they are no longer at jujutsu school just pretending to be normal teenagers, Yuji lets the silence devour them and forces himself not to think about how someone is missing there.

The stillness is interrupted when Fushiguro lets out an irritated and even – if Yuji was really playing psychoanalyst – hurt sigh.

“Why do you always have to do this?”

"Do what?"

“Don’t play dumb with me, Itadori.” He snaps, looking increasingly furious. Yuji doesn't know if the way Fushiguro throws the used towel away, without seeming to care where it lands, is intentional, and he doesn't want to know what it could mean. Working on a cotton pad, dipped in saline, Fushiguro continues in the same scathing tone: “You could have defended yourself from that first attack. Hell, you could have even counterattacked. Why did you accept the punches?”

“It was the only way Hakari-san could hear us.” Yuji responds, grabbing Fushiguro's hand before he shoves those tampons into his sensitive nose. He feels the sorcerer's pulse quicken beneath his fingers. It's the only sign of emotion Yuji receives. “I didn’t care, really. And neither should you.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but it’s too late!” Fushiguro exclaimed, pulling his hand away from Yuji, almost as if he had burned him. It hurts, but no more than the words that follow: “Because I care and I won’t let you die again because of me, Itadori!”

Fushiguro turns his face away, staring at the ground beneath his feet, as if he can hide the way his lips tighten more and more, trying not to tremble. Sweat drips from his face, elegant hands tightly gripping the useless fabric of the white jacket, his throat swallowing words that Yuji would like to hear, but doesn't have the courage to ask.

He looks so helpless, lost.

Desperate.

Yuji blinks, shock escaping in the form of a sharp breath.

Hakari's words mid-fight then come back to Yuji, a small whisper of the memory in his mind.

“When a sorcerer asks another for help, it's basically asking 'please risk your life with me'.”

Silence lingers between them.

A drop falls, hitting the metal of the sink.

Then two, three, four, five...

Yuji tentatively extends a hand to Fushiguro, not knowing exactly what to do or what to say.

It's so painful not to be able to say everything he feels, everything he's been ignoring since that day at the conservatory, where the rain never seemed to wash the blood from his heart or erase the fear on Fushiguro's face, too many words and regrets on the edge of his mouth. language, however unable to verbalize them.

It was always easier to leave everything underground.

After all, everything always had an expiration date for him.

One day it will all end for him. Maybe in ten years or less than ten days.

Yuji is nothing more than a cog that will be discarded as soon as his function is fulfilled.

So why does Fushiguro look at him like there's something more?

Yuji takes a deep breath and his heart hurts with the weight of feelings he can't get out.

"I'm very sorry." He speaks, genuinely, lifting his eyes just enough to find Fushiguro's already looking at him. “I didn't want to... I just want...”

He doesn't know what he wants.

This matters?

A gear does not need to want anything, as its only function is to serve a purpose. However, Yuji can't help but selfishly want something and keep it close to him.

Because of these selfish desires to not be alone, no more, he gave in to Fushiguro even though he knew the dangers of keeping him around. Because of that little selfish part that loves when Fushiguro looks at him with affection and trust, that shines when he sees his best friend alive by his side, that wishes he could live a life that was denied to him when Sukuna's damn finger went down his throat, Yuji can't move away.

God, he's so filthy and stupid and cruel.

Yuji's head falls into the space between them, finally feeling the weight of all that fighting, all the stress, all the rush. Your hands squeeze your face to stop the tears from falling, even though you've known for a long time that there isn't a drop left to fall. They all stayed in Shibuya.

“I just want to be able to help you.” He gasps, feeling unable to breathe. “I want to save someone at least once.”

It's not exactly what Yuji wants to say, but it's the most he can manage.

He will not drag Fushiguro into a current in which he, and only he, is doomed to sink.

This would be the moment when Fushiguro leaves. Let Yuji deal with his own demons and nightmares, spare him the memory of all those he has lost and is about to lose when the higher-ups find him. Yuji almost wants to beg his friend to do it. Stay away before he stains Fushiguro's pale skin with blood like he stained his jacket.

Leave before you are destroyed.

However, Fushiguro was never the type to back down.

Instead of going far away, he gets even closer. Instead of moving away so as not to stain himself, Fushiguro extends his arms to offer an attempt at a hug, one hand resting on Yuji's hair with a comforting squeeze, a silent promise that he won't leave – he will stay until the end. . Yuji wonders if he can feel that promise on his lips if he kisses Fushiguro's hands, but he pushes that thought away. For the moment, being selfish and stupid, he accepts the hug and holds Fushiguro as close as he can to himself.

“I’m not going to lie and say everything will be fine, because it probably won’t.” The words come out of Fushiguro, low and soft, a true, broken whisper. Yuji feels when Fushiguro settles down on the bench, holding him back, as if he's afraid he's going to disappear. “But I know we will get through this. You and I. Together. Just… Don’t scare me like that again, please.”

Yuji shakes his head, taking a deep breath of Fushiguro's vanilla shampoo.

"I am going to try..."

Try to be better. Try to overcome the past. Trying to be someone worth saving.

Fushiguro pulls back just enough so that Yuji can see the small smile that appears on his face, and for a moment, it's like being back in Yuji's high school dorm, the darkness swallowing them both as their breaths mingle and the heat Summertime does things to your teenage hormones. Rewind the tape until they have all the time in the world to memorize eyes and smiles instead of scars.

The memories make Yuji's heart beat in different rhythms.

He won't think about them now.

Now, he will simply enjoy Fushiguro's rare, gentle touch, memorize the way his eyelashes are long, his eyes burn with a fervor and purpose, how the smile on his face is broken but still beautiful and the only thing that reminds Yuji of his own humanity.

In the flickering light, he clings to Fushiguro's voice like a shipwreck clings to a piece of wood.

"Thanks. That's all I can ask for.”

[willows-adventures-in-words]

I'll be honest I never expected to write a continuation for the hero villain thing I wrote. It was a Whumptober prompt from years ago. If you want to go back and see where this actually started it's right here. Most of the chapters are going to be on the shorter side though.

Heros & Villains chapter: 2 (since I'm considering the prompt chap 1) word count: 515

~-~-~

Jackie's senses slowly started to come back to him as he found himself waking up. It took him a moment to remember what happened. He jerked upright and took a sharp breath through clenched teeth. Okay, that was probably stupid to do, he thought. But... he needed to get out of here. Where ever here was. Looking around his surroundings told him, to his surprise, that he was in a bedroom, on a bed. Was this Magnificent's room?

Pushing those thoughts aside, he moved to get out of bed. Slowly, he got up. And wobbled unsteady on his feet. His body hurt all over. One of the first things he noticed was the fact he wasn't wearing his Jackie-boy Man outfit. Just a pair of black loose fitted sweat pants. There were bandages all over his upper body and arms. He lifted his left arm, his non-sore one, to his face to find his mask still in place. Did that mean... Magnificent didn't remove it. Didn't try to find out his identity. He moved to the door; shuffled more than stepped. Jackie pulled open the door.

There were voices. Not far away. Would he even be able to get out with guards close by? Then he frowned. Jackie reached out only for his hand to rest on a barrier. The voice that was talking stopped. And it was only then that Jackie realized who that voice belonged to. “Back to bed Jackie-boy,” Magnificent called out to him.

A bit of anger bubbled up. “You can't keep me here!” He knew very well that he could keep him here.

The sound of a chair being pushed back. “Maybe I should speak to him.”

“He doesn't need to know about you.” Jackie strained to listen to the conversation.

“We have already-”

A moment later Magnificent stepped in front of the door. He wasn't dressed with flair like Jackie was used to seeing. Though his mask was settled over his eyes and nose like usual. “Back to bed Jackie-boy,” he repeated. Jackie glared at him. “Doctors orders. If you don't listen I'll keep you here longer.”

“Fuck you.” Magnificent rolled his eyes. “I have to-”

The other man cut him off. “I know you ran into him.” Jackie stiffened, then grimaced slightly. “When you've rested and healed, you're free to go.”

Jackie hesitated, weighing his words. “What's the catch?”

“You're not my prisoner.”

“What's the catch?” Jackie demanded. There had to be a catch.

“There isn't one.” He turned his head to look back in the direction he came from.

“I don't believe you.” Magnificent looked back at Jackie. Then, after a pause, sighed and started back down the hall. “Hey!” When it was obvious he wasn't coming back, Jackie looked back into the room. There really wasn't any other choice was there. Closing the door he made his way back to the bed. Carefully he settled himself back down. His body's need for rest eventually forced him back to sleep.

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

This idea hit me like a ton of bricks, so of course I had to write it.

From my au where Lucian and a vampire!Peter live together and have a cat named Catmilla.

Warning: mentions of silver-related injuries, Peter has pierced ears and nothing in canon can change my mind

On with the fic!

--

Peter frowned as he dug about in the little box where he kept all his piercings, both fake and real. He wanted to wear this one pair he had that were snakes with little red gems dangling from them, but he couldn’t find both of them. Well, he had one of them, and it had been left exactly where he placed it this morning before his shower. But the second one, which had been right next to it, was missing.

Had he put it back in the box after he dumped it out to find the piercings in the first place? 

Hmm, no, he knew he had left them both out. Had Catmilla knocked it off? No, she hasn’t moved from her cat bed by the window, too comfy with the Vegas sunlight to bother getting up any time soon. 

He looked all over and around his personal vanity, not finding the damn thing. With a huff, Peter moved out of the room as he worked to put the lone piercing in. “Hey babe,” He called out to Lucian, wherever he was in the flat, “you got a sec?”

“Yes, I’m just in the weapons hall.” Lucian called back and Peter found him removing one of the swords from the wall, wearing gloves. Ah, right, he was planning on cleaning and sharping some of them today. 

Peter noticed his boyfriend has his hair pulled back, always a good look for him, but he also noticed something else. 

Something familiar dangling from Lucian’s left ear.

“There it is!” Peter exclaimed, making Lucian jump, nearly dropping the sword. 

“W-what?” Lucian blinked, turning to look at him.

“My earring! You had it! I spent forever trying to find the match and you had it the whole- wait a fuckin’ minute! You have pierced ears!?” 

Lucian set the sword side before turning completely to face him. “Ah, well, just the one, actually. But yes, I have a pierced ear.”

“B-but I’ve never seen you wear anythin’ before? And don’t you heal quickly from injuries? How can your ear still have a hole in it for a piercing?”

Lucian removed his gloves, then he removed the piercing. He approached Peter and let him look at the small hole. It looked rather like the silver scars Lucian- oh. “You pierced your ear with silver?” 

“Actually, Sonja did.” Lucian said, sounding a bit embarrassed. “She thought it would be a good look on me, having my ear pierced. One night, she took a silver needle to do it, and let me tell you, it was one of the most painful experiences I’ve ever had with silver.”

“Probably hurts like a paper cut, tiny but oh so evil and painful.” Peter commented, taking his earring back when Lucian handed it to him. “That’s cool and all, but how come I’ve never seen you wear anything before?”

“I just don’t think about it, and any I had are long gone after 2003. Sorry for wearing yours, I noticed it and thought, hm, it’s been a while. I didn’t know you were planning on wearing it.”

“Eh, it’s fine.” Peter said as he put it in his other ear. “’sides, it doesn’t match you. I’m sure I’ve got something more your style. Maybe a small ring? Oh! I’ve got a variety of those, and in different colors and textures! Or maybe one of my moon ones? I’ve even got a few with bats! Let me go get the box!” 

He ran off, his mind currently occupied with the thought of how hot it was that his fashion-backwards boyfriend can wear a piercing.

--

The earrings Peter is wearing are real and I have them. 

Every Michael Sheen character I write for should have his left ear pierced. I know my Aziraphale’s always do! Why not Lucian? 

[zaunitespride]

It wasn’t until Vi’s dark tone faultered that Jinx was aware of the tear that ran down her cheek. Frowning, she wiped the tear away, though her eyes remained fixated on it for the moment. Why had she cried? Perhaps there was a small bit of Powder left in there, and that made Jinx angry then. Jinx had spent her whole life burying that weak child, to be strong. She wasn't going to let her resurface. "I told you, my name is Jinx." She finally said in response, her voice lower in tone this time. "And should I? That's what he is isn't he? Just a parasite leaching off of papa's shimmer. Until he stopped, hiding his monster away when it should have been set free."

The dull end of the danced against Ekko's skin, until she heard the sound of rope rubbing against each other. Jinx instantly responded by making a big cut, a slightly deeper one this time. The satisfaction was immediate as he had stopped his efforts. Good at least someone was listening to her. Unlike everyone else in this room, and her sister who spat her offer back in her face. The anger that had been boiling under the surface as Jinx suddenly pounded her fist on the table, causing one of the glasses to fall and break, just enough to be sharp. Jinx paid it no mind as it rolled Caitlyn's direction.

"You would choose Piltover trash over your own blood? Hell, over your own people, again?" Jinx pulled out zapper, and pointed it at Caitlyn, specifically her shoulder. She knew why, because Vi was nothing like her, thought herself above things like murder. Probably couldn't stomach being on the same side with Silco, even if it was the only true side. "That piltie stole you from me, just Vander had and you just let her. Don't you see that's what she wants? To turn you away from us and you're falling for it." Without an ounce of hesitation, Jinx shot Caitlyn's shoulder, not once taking her eyes of Vi.

"Your sister doesn't care about you, Jinx, she will never listen." Amidst all the conflict, Silco had been working at undoing his rope, all the while listening to it all. Despite having been taken by force, he knew he was an honored guest, one with a much thinner rope than everyone else. He'd never been in any danger and knew he could get out at any time and yet it was only when she offered Vi the prospect of family that he worked to unbind himself and removed his mask. "All she ever cared about was that enforcer and that crystal. She was never here for you and this proves it, she was never going to accept you because she doesn't understand you. Not like I do."

Jinx realized in that moment that Silco was right. As she made her way over to Silco, the barrel of Zapper running against the surface of the table. she knew Vi would never accept her. "I thought, maybe we could be a family, that I could help you see past the manipulation of your pet enforcer..." Her voice was significantly darker now as she stopped once she was by Silco's side. "Is Papa right, Vi? Are you beyond hope? Was I wrong in ever believing you would accept me?"

Silco held her wrist then, gripping it as if to keep her from losing herself. "I know when you brought me here that you believe I would give you to them, but I will never betray you. Unlike your sister, who would rather pick an enemy over you."

　⊰ ⸻ ⊱　Caitlyn's head spun, the spots dotted her eyes as she struggled to process anything. For now, she tried to cling to something, anything. The sounds drowned out around her, swimming in the pilt with muddled words. She couldn't grasp onto her thoughts, feeling disconnected from the pain and her body. Blue hair fell around her face, sticking to the sweat that beaded around her forehead and clung to the bloody mess of the monkey-cut pattern on her temple. The first hint of pain Caitlyn came into contact with was the throbbing headache as she blinked her eyes, trying to find her way back to the present.

The pain she experienced, wasn't her own. Something wrecked her mind, panic driven that caused her eyes to turn in Ekko's direction. Everything still moved too slowly, her mind struggled to keep up. "Mfffh," Caitlyn muffled slightly as her tear-streaked cheeks had a visible trail removing the dirt and grime that stuck to her face. While they were busy, she fluttered her eyes open a little, looking down at the rope on her wrist. 'Okay, Kiramman, focus. You're no good dead to anyone, you're still alive...' She muttered to her mind, driven by panic and worry, and knowing to escape this they had to first get free of the rope. So her wrist started to move back and forth, twisting and turning.

The last sentence she caught caused her head to look up. "Affh!?!" Caitlyn's eyes went wide, as her heart thumped heavily, panic filling her chest. Silco's disgruntled noise barely registered as she turned to look at Vi, wide eyes as she tried to leave forward. "Eeh," Blood stunned her eye, as the vital clung to the corner of her eye and down her face. Her heart hung in the balance as if frozen on what choice would be made.

[thesleepy1]

Held Tightly, The Fire Burns

A/N: @eddyofthetruth requested this fic ages ago. I’m sorry it took so long to get out. I hope this fic brightens your day. :) As for the fic, I try not to have gendered descriptions when writing but it's a little harder to avoid in these situations. Just assume that the reader is intersex and has all the parts. 

Pairings: Eskel x Reader 

Summary: You were not nervous. It wasn’t like it was your first time or anything. You knew that Eskel had more experience than you but he wasn’t going to make fun of you…right? You don’t know what you’re doing. Why did you even agree to this? (Cause you love him and have been thinking about him shirtless since you first met him.) It’s fine. Everything is fine. You won’t fuck up and ruin everything. 

Or, “idk if you do anything nsfw so feel free to ignore but if you do!! would you consider writing something eskel x reader (either netflix or book i love them both) where its the reader's first time? idk i just feel like he'd be so kind and patient (//ω//) have a nice day! <3

Word count: 1,634

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex, marking, begging, dirty talk, praise kink, slight pain kink, 

Eskel sat with you in the library. A fire was crackling in the fireplace. The cracks and sizzles of the damp wood filled the large room with noise. The smell of dry, old books and burning pine relaxed you further in your seat. You could feel it in your bones, the deep seated sense that everything was as it was supposed to be. 

That thought did nothing to quell the fluttering of your heart. 

You had talked about this for days. Eskel did not want to force you into anything you weren’t ready for. He was patient. More patient than you probably deserved, going back and forth on the decision. You just didn’t want to mess things up. Traveling with Eskel was the best part of your life and ruining that would absolutely destroy you. 

“Are you sure?” Eskel asked for the utmost time. It was private in the library. At first you had suggested that your first time should be in a bedroom but when you and Eskel actually went to try, the anticipation was scarier than anything. The library was the next choice. It was intimate without having any other connotations. For all the others in the keep knew, you and Eskel were simply reading by the fireplace. No one batted an eye at the extra furs Eskel had laid on the floor or the pitcher of water he had brought along with you. 

Though the other witchers were sharp. They likely knew what the two of you were planning. They were just kind enough to leave you alone. 

“I’m fine, Eskel.” You assured him with a hand on his bicep. Heat was already coating the apples of your cheeks. Even now you could not blame the fire for it. This close to Eskel, you could see all the curves of his face. He looked as though he had been carved from marble and polished by a gentle river. Your hand went to cup his jaw, thumb stroking the stubble there. “It's unfair how you look so good. How could anyone even attempt to compete with you?” 

Eskel’s hand went over your own, pushing your palm to his lips. His face was marred but his kisses were feather-like brushes of the skin. “And yet you have my eyes every moment of the day.” His mouth moved down your hand, your wrist, your arm. When he reached your collar bone you felt the faint press of his teeth. “Is this alright?” he whispered into your skin. 

You let out a simple whimper in affirmation and another when his teeth pulled at the skin. His mouth sucked markings onto you. His hands were all over you, on your hips, your waist, and up higher. You were helping him remove your tunic before you even realized that he was slowly lowering you onto your back. 

Eskel moved down your chest like a man starved. You could hear your heart beat out of your ribcage. You knew he could hear it as well. It seemed to spur him on, the way your heart skipped when he bruised the skin on your chest. His mouth made you desperate, writhing on the furs beneath you. Your hands couldn’t get enough of him, fingers in his hair and nails digging into his back. When the texture of fabric under your palm got too much to handle, you pushed at his shirt until he got the clue and removed it. 

The two of you were in nothing but your trousers now. The tent between his thighs and the press of the engorged flesh against you had heat swirling in the pit of your stomach. “Could I—” Eskel was panting too hard to get the words out. His hand tugged at the hem of your trousers instead. 

“Please, I need to feel you as well,” You begged him, pulling him in for a kiss. “I need them off.” 

Eskel could not deny you anything if he tried. He was an ever devoted servant, quickly tugging down your trousers and smalls before doing the same to himself. His cock sprung free from its confides and you couldn’t help but gulp. He was large, cock thick, and curved slightly to the side. You had no idea how it was going to fit inside of you. 

Eskel must have seen the hesitation on your face because his soft tone before gentler, “We could stop now if you’d like. We don’t have to go farther.” There was a vein that ran the whole length of his cock and you would have given anything to feel it against your tongue at that moment. 

“Please Eskel, I want you so much it's killing me,” You whined, knowing the sound would only make him hasten. “I need you inside me.” You reached above you, blindly searching for the vial of oil you had stashed there earlier. 

Eskel guided your arms back down. “There’s no rush.” He lowered himself down your body before settling himself between your thighs. His hands were curious things that wanted to know everything there was to know about the flesh of your skin. His mouth was no different, pressing kisses to your inner thigh before taking pieces of you in. You knew that there would be marks there in the morning, perhaps even longer by the way he took his time to nuzzle against you. 

“Eskel, Eskel,” You gasped in between moans. He was so close to where you needed him yet so far. You could only take so much more of his teasing torture. “I need—I need you—” You were shamelessly desperate. 

The witcher met your eyes between your legs. He hummed in question from deep within his chest, head tilted in innocent acknowledgement. Eskel knew damn well what you wanted. He just wanted to hear you say it. You knew that if you did not tell Eskel what you wanted, what you truly desire, he would not touch you where you needed him to. 

It would drive you mad. 

“Eskel, please,” You began, head pressed back against the furs. “I need your mouth on me. I need to feel the press of your tongue against my skin.” 

Eskel had the nerve to chuckle at your wanton state. The witcher would be the end of you. 

Eskel grazed your opening with a brush of his finger. “Here?” He asked with false innocence dripping from his tongue. 

“Y-yes,” You could barely get the word out. “Right there, please.”

You had not noticed when he poured oil onto his fingers. He slid a finger into you easily, one of his was the size of two of your own. You could feel your walls stretch to slowly accommodate him. 

Eskel moved only when you gave him a nod of confirmation. He began at a leisurely pace, thrusting his finger in and out of your entrance. When your moans filled the library, he slid in a second. Soon, all you knew was Eskel and the burning heat in your stomach. Neither hurt you but you could not forget the ache and desire if you tried. 

“E-enough.” Your voice was quivering. Sweat was already dripping down your neck and Eskel hadn’t even properly entered you yet. You pulled at his arm, removing his fingers and tugging his body closer. “Please, Eskel. I’m ready.” 

Eskel chuckled from deep within his chest. He may have opened you with all the time in the world, but you could see the effect it had on him. His cock was a heated red, precum slicking the uncut tip. 

“Tell me if you need me to stop.” 

“I will,” You promised. “But really, darling. I want this.” 

Eskel took your face in his hand and kissed you. His tongue slipped into your mouth but before you could truly get lost in it, you felt his tip line your entrance. He had slicked his cock with the remaining oil but still you clenched your eyes at the feeling of him. Eskel was by no means a small man. 

You took him inch by blissful inch. When he had finally bottomed out, you had pulled him into a tight embrace. Your nails dug into his shoulders, crescent shaped indents where you could not contain yourself. 

“You’re so tight,” Eskel groaned, eyes shut tight. “Feels good,” he murmured into your ears.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, squeezing him as tightly as he was holding you. “You can move, darling.” You pressed kisses into his jaw. “Such a wonderful witcher. You make me feel so good.” 

Eskel smiled and began thrusting into you. Neither of you wanted it rough. There would be time for that. For now, you basked in each other’s presence whispering words of praise and encouragement. There would also be time to build up your stamina. You barely had time to warn Eskel about the coils under your skin coming undone. 

You drew blood from his shoulder when you came, back arched like a feline. It was a bliss you had never felt before. A feeling you had only read about in books. There was nothing compared to the real thing. 

It did not take long for Eskel to follow. Your walls tightened around him. He could only manage a couple more shallow thrusts before stilling and spilling into your channel. You had never seen him so out of breath, sweat dripping down his brow.

“My beautiful witcher,” You sang, wiping the sweat from his face. “That was wonderful.” 

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” Eskel grinned like a Cheshire cat. He seemed quite proud of himself at having made you release first. 

“Can we do it again?” You chuckled, blushing at your own words. 

Eskel kissed you a hundred times and promised to do it a hundred more. “As often as you like.”