#I felt like I was on a bit of a block on this rely for some reason but then finally thought of something!

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

You OK? - Charles Leclerc

<word count - 1433>

"OK, this should help your nose," you said, handing a stuffy Charles a steaming mug of peppermint tea, hoping it might clear his nose out somewhat. "But I don't like it," he mumbled, begrudgingly holding the mug in his hands.

"I know you don't, but you're going to have to deal with it," you told him, taking his hand and gently pulling him over to the couch. "Now, I'm going to make dinner while you stay here and get some rest," you told him, pushing him down.

You draped a blanket over him, making sure he was all cozy before kissing him on the forehead. As much as Charles was cute when he was sick, when he got sick, he got sick. And this time, he had a horrendous cold. 

He relied on you for everything, whether it be getting him dressed in the morning, to the simple things like getting him a glass of water. It was a hell of a good job he wasn't driving for another week, giving him plenty of time to recover. 

"I don't need dinner, I just want you," he complained, pulling his arms out of the blanket and holding them out to you. "You need to eat, Charles," you smiled, dodging him as he tried to grab you. "This isn't fair," he pouted, his flushed cheeks and ruffled hair adding to the ultimate picture. 

"Life isn't fair, darling," you smiled, going back to the kitchen to get started on a classic chicken soup. It was a staple for any person who had a cold, and Charles was no exception. You heard a huffed sigh from Charles, as you heard the muffled thud of him falling sideways onto the couch.

After around fifteen minutes, you heard the sound of shuffling behind you. "You OK, my love?" You called out, not turning to look at whatever he was getting up to behind you. You didn't receive a response, you just felt arms wrap around your waist and a head on your shoulder. 

"Can you come and sit with me for a bit? Dinner can wait," he sniffled, pressing himself into your back as much as he could. Charles was still wrapped up in his blanket, but he still wasn't as comforted as he could have been with you. 

"I won't be long, go and sit down and get comfy," you told him, still setting things into the pot, ready to go on the stove. "But I need you to be comfy, baby" he whined, burying his face into your neck as his breath was warm on your skin. 

"I promise, I will be with you once I'm done with this," you said, feeling him grip onto you even tighter. "I'll just stay here until you're done," he said, resting more of his weight onto you. You knew he was stubborn, so you were fine with just leaving him there. 

You stepped to the side to grab something out of the fridge, and you heard a groan come from him as he was detached from you for a split second. "Amour, you've gotta tell me when you move," he told, resuming his position of being clung to you like a turtle shell. 

"OK, darling, OK," you smiled, leaning back into his embrace. "Left in one, two, three," you counted down, before the both of you took a step left in unison. You felt him smile against your neck, clearly liking the system you had going. 

"I'll let that warm through, then dinner is served," you said, spinning in his arms and marveling at the sight of him, all wrapped up in his blanket. "I feel like shit, baby," he groaned, leaning forward and resting his head on your shoulder again. 

You could hear how blocked his nose was, and there was nothing you could do to help him. "Do you want a tissue?" you asked as he sniffled again. 

"Yeah, please," he nodded, and you went to the bathroom to grab him one. As you took your first step, he grabbed your hand and walked with you. He didn't want to be without you for a second on a normal day, but when he was sick, he got clingy and he needed physical contact with you at all times. 

"We can go and sit now," you said, as he took your hand again and you took him to the couch. You allowed him a minute to get comfortable, before sitting down beside him. As soon as you sat down, he wrapped his arms around your waist and resting all of his weight onto you. 

"I feel much better already," he mumbled, a dazed smile on his face. As long as he had you, it didn't matter how sick he was or how ill he felt, he would be happy. "I'm glad you do," you smiled, spotting the undrunk mug of now cold tea still sat on the coffee table. You should have known he wouldn't drink it. 

"I'm going to go and serve dinner, and I will be back in no more than two minutes," you said, trying to shimmy out of his grasp as it tightened around your body. "I'll be counting, and if you're not back in two minutes, I'm coming to get you," he said, and you knew he was serious. 

Well, he was trying to be serious. His reddened cheeks and nose and nasally voice made it hard for you to take him properly seriously. "OK," you smiled, ladling the soup into bowls and bringing it to Charles.

"You were on 115 seconds, so you got away with that one by the skin of your teeth," he grinned, taking the bowl from you. "This is amazing, thank you," he smiled, spooning small mouthfuls of the liquid into his mouth. 

"No problem, my love," you said, sitting down. Charles nestled himself into your side again, still sipping away at your soup. When you were both done, you tried to take his bowl to go and wash it up. "Can you do that tomorrow?I just want you with me," he asked, looking up at you with those glassy green eyes that you could never say no to.

"OK, I can do that," you agreed, putting the bowls down on the coffee table and sitting back beside him. Just like clockwork, Charles slotted himself into your side again, and you lightly trailed your fingers up and down his back. 

"I really want to kiss you, but I don't want you to get sick," he groaned, tiredly pouting at you. "You can get me sick if you're going to take care of me," you softly chuckled, moving your hands up to his hair, tangling your fingers into the chocolate strands. 

"I'll always take care of you, no questions asked," he said as if it were an obvious thing. "But, I don't want my baby feeling like this, so I'll restrain myself," he explained as if it were the hardest task that man could ever complete.

"Well aren't you just a hero," you teased and the both of you giggled. 

"I am refraining from kissing the love of my life so that she doesn't have to endure the pain I am in. I am a hero," he laughed, pulling you impossibly closer. 

"You are a hero darling, you are," you reassured, kissing the top of his head. 

"I know," he chuckled, closing his eyes. Having a cold really took it out of him, and he had been following you around your house like a lost puppy all day.  

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a completely blocked nose. Charles, on the other hand, was energized and fit as a fiddle. "You've given me your cold," you grumbled, sitting up in bed as he looked fresh faced. 

"So you're telling me I could have kissed you that whole time since you were going to get sick anyway?" he asked, sounding nearly annoyed.

"I guess so," you laughed. Charles never failed to make you smile, no matter how ill you may have felt. Without another word, Charles moves closer to you, cupping your cheek with his hand. He gently pulled your face towards him, you lips connecting in the middle. 

"You're going to get sick again," you pouted, wiping your nose with your sleeve as you pulled away from the kiss. "I really don't give a shit," he dismissed, pulling you back in, revelling in the feeling of getting to kiss you again. 

He didn't care that he was definitely going to get sick again, and getting to kiss you was completely worth it. 

A/N - First off, I absolutely adore this one, and I don't tend to like the things that I write, so this is a nice, refreshing change. Also, I won't be posting tomorrow, Friday or Saturday since I'm away, but there is a poll you can vote on for me here. Requests are open, and I love you lots 💖

|masterist|

[unoislazy]

Spar With Me

(Part 3)

Mizu x Reader

Summary: after dealing with a situation in town, Mizu helps you calm down a bit.

Disclaimer; a small bit of violence

Part One

Part Two

————————————————————

Some time had passed since you had discovered Mizu’s pretty big secret. You had kept your mouth shut about your findings, in fact you hadn’t said anything about the situation entirely, not even to Mizu much like you had done for the sparring situation. You honestly didn’t know how Mizu felt about you knowing, you always seemed to find a way to stumble across the things she wanted to keep private and you felt awful about it. So much so that you had begun to distance yourself from the woman a bit, which wasn’t entirely that hard. Mizu was already a very quiet person, she was more of a listener than a talker unless she was interrogating someone for information, so if you weren’t the one asking the questions a conversation wouldn’t happen.

Well, that is unless Ringo asked the questions but oftentimes when it was up to Ringo, the conversation didn’t always really rely on the situation at hand or anything even remotely related.

A few sunbeams managed to break their way through the cloudy sky, gracing you with their shallow warmth as you continued on the very snowy path towards the village. It had already reached dusk by the time you had arrived, but you didn’t mind, you enjoyed the colors of the sun even if most of them were blocked out by the clouds.

Mizu had gotten some hint that she needed to go this way, so that’s the way you went. You didn’t know much about what you were really looking for and you didn’t necessarily have any real intentions on asking, it wasn't really your business you were just along for the ride.

The snow under your feet crunched and sloshed, indicating that many had walked the same path before you. It certainly hadn't been untouched, instead of being an appealing pure white color, the snow had become muddled with the dirt beneath it, creating a disgusting mixture.

You continued to face down, paying more attention to the path beneath you than where you had been headed and before you had realized it, you had lost Mizu and Ringo.

You frantically began to turn every which way, trying to find them but they were nowhere in your immediate sight. So, you made the decision that the best course of action was to go back the way you came and see where you might’ve lost them from there.

On your way back to where you had lost track of them you had passed by a group of men who seemed to just be conversing amongst each other outside of a teahouse. For any normal person it would’ve been much too early in the day to have begun drinking, but not everyone follows those ideals.

As you passed by, mentally recounting your steps, you took notice of them all turning and looking towards your direction, whispering amongst themselves about something.

You paid no mind to them, just wanting to focus on finding Mizu and Ringo first but before you could really go any farther, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You spun around quickly, realizing that it was one of the men from the group that you had passed by. You put on a sweet face, not wanting to start any trouble that didn’t need to be started and asked,

“Can I help you?”

To which the man responded,

“How much?”

You simply stared at him in confusion, taking notice that his friends had begun to walk up towards you as well, forming a very uncomfortably close half circle around you.

“Excuse me?” You asked, you initially thought he wanted to buy something off of you as you began to back away.

“How much?” The man gestured again, this time making sure to look you up and down.

“I’m not a courtesan, I’m sure there are plenty in one of the houses down that way.” You said through gritted teeth, trying to remain polite as you continued to back away. It seemed as if they weren’t getting the hint, and if they were they didn’t care in the slightest. The men laughed at what you had said despite it clearly not being a joke.

“Oh come on, you wouldn’t want a few extra ryo?” He laughed, reaching to place his hand back on your shoulder which you dodged slightly, obviously not wanting him to touch you.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” One of the other men joined in, trying to persuade you as he grabbed your arm. You struggled within his grip, trying to tug yourself free.

“I’d rather not, please let me go.” You were trying to stay polite but you were becoming more freaked out as their persistence grew. You continued to struggle against the man's grasp before another man had placed his hand on your other arm. Now you were being dragged by both arms back towards the tea house as you struggled against them,

“Let me go!” You shouted, which only earned a laugh from them as they continued to drag you. It seemed almost as if they found you struggling amusing in some way. It frightened you, who knew what waited for you beyond the doors of that tea house.

“Please just let me go!” You pleaded once more before one of the men had turned back to you, he was the only one who didn’t seem to find your begs and please funny. The rest of the men had stopped pulling you, but they still held on as you stared at the man before you.

The man made his way towards you, seemingly the leader of the group and likely the one who had the idea in the first place, and he stopped right in front of you. You could feel yourself begin to tremble as your body began to finally settle into the situation. Sure you knew how to fight a basic amount, but these men were unfortunately stronger than you, and you were unarmed so you had no advantage in this situation. Your entire body shook as this man stood before you, a scowl plastered on his face as he quickly raised his hand, ready to strike you.

You shut your eyes in fear, ready for the impact, but it never came.

Instead, all you heard was the sound of something being sliced, the thump of something being dropped, and the man who stood before you screaming out in pain. Once you had finally opened your eyes, you saw Mizu standing in front of you, her blade drawn and freshly covered in blood as the man cowered on the ground, curled into himself as he wept over his now severed hand.

“Let them go.” Mizu demanded, her blade now pointing at one of the men who held you while she glared daggers at the other. Even though she had her glasses on, her glare might’ve been strong enough to kill any man right where they stood, even without the added factor of her eye color.

“Why, You don’t own them do you?” The man who had literally just lost a limb spoke up, clearly testing Mizu’s patience. Her eyes quickly traveled from the man she had been looking at and stuck to him like he had a target painted on his forehead. He had some nerve implying that you were owned by anyone in the first place, let alone her. She didn’t allow his whining to continue on for much longer before delivering a blow that killed the man within seconds, not without spreading an abhorrent amount of blood in every direction first.

Once she had finished with him, she put her blade back up, now facing the two men who continued to hold you.

“I’d argue this isn’t something worth losing your lives over.” She said, before gesturing for them to go away. They both seemed to silently agree with her and let go of you before sprinting off into different directions with their tails between their legs. The moment the men let you go, your knees practically gave out on you, sending you stumbling forward a bit into Mizu as you continued to tremble. She tensed a bit, not expecting you to get so close but she eased up once she had realized how frightened you were. Her arms very cautiously wrapped around you, trying to comfort you the best she could having not really touched anyone in a non-fighting context in a long time.

By this point the sun had already set, she hadn’t gotten the information she wanted but she believed you were more important at this point in time than the tip she had been given. Besides, they would likely still be there in the morning so there was no rush.

“We should find some place to rest.” She suggested quietly as she continued to hold you, turning to Ringo as if to ask him to go look. He understood her look and nodded with determination, quickly going off to find the best place possible for his master.

Once Ringo had left Mizu looked down at you, taking in your features that she had never seen before. Anger? Maybe, Embarrassment? Definitely, but fear? You might’ve been afraid of a few things here and there but never had she seen you so shaken up, and she couldn't blame you. Usually she was much tougher on the people she was around, had it been anyone else that she had helped she might’ve just walked away after but you were different.

And despite her inner arguments, she knew exactly why.

“Are you okay?” She asked, her eyes had softened quite drastically compared to the way she had looked at the men. It was a look not many would’ve thought Mizu of all people was capable of.

You looked up at her, still stuck in your own world as you tried to process and work through what just happened. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t know whether to shout, or scream, or even cry, so all you did was shake. Mizu sighed, not because you annoyed her, but because she felt bad for losing track of you. Sure you should’ve been paying attention, but she could’ve shown up faster to protect you. She truthfully didn’t know where you had gone until Ringo managed to hear you shouting and led her to you.

Before long, Ringo had come running back up,excitedly claiming he had found a place to stay. Luckily you all could afford to stay there, but unfortunately it would only be two rooms.

“You two should take the room together! I can go off on my own no problem!” He exclaimed proudly.

Mizu nodded, gesturing for him to lead the way back to the place he had found. She slowly let go of you, it would’ve been hard for her to continue to walk while in the position you two were in so she made sure you were steady first, then took her arms off of you. You were calming down but you were still a bit shaken up, sure one could argue nothing had happened to you but it was more the thought of what could’ve, and what might’ve if MIzu hadn’t gotten there when she did. You owed her a lot and you knew you’d have to repay her one day.

Mizu had begun to walk ahead a little, looking back at you to make sure you were following behind. She didn’t want to take her eyes off you and truthfully she really didn’t.

Once the three of you had arrived at the place Ringo had picked out, he went one way and the two of you went the other. The room that you had walked into was dimly lit, two futons lay towards the back of the room, a table that had been left with a few items on top was placed more towards the middle of the room, it was pretty cozy for something found at the last minute.

“We don’t have to sleep near each other, I’ll move mine over.” Mizu said plainly, already in the process of moving it over before you stopped her.

“Wait.” You began, she looked up at you, confusion riddled her face. “Would you mind actually… being closer? I just… I feel safer if I know you’re nearby and-” You explained but once you had looked back at her, you wanted to take back your words immediately. You felt so stupid asking for her to stay near you, you felt weak, you could protect yourself but you didn’t and now you were asking for her to be near you to comfort you?

You were so lost in your own thoughts you hadn’t realized that Mizu had already moved the bed back to its original spot with ease and without saying a single word.

“You don’t have to, It was just a sug-” You began, not wanting to feel as if you were forcing Mizu into an uncomfortable position.

“It’s fine.” Was all she responded with.

You supposed if MIzu didn’t want to be in a situation where she was uncomfortable, she wouldn’t. She would’ve just told you no, but she didn’t, so maybe you didn’t need to feel as bad as you did.

A little time had passed as you had both gotten ready to sleep. You sat straight up on your futon, staring at the wall facing away from Mizu as she laid down on her own. She had already taken her usual accessories off but of course they weren’t too far from her, her sword and glasses rested just as peacefully next to her.

You however, were still dealing with the aftermath of the adrenaline. You felt so energetic in a sense of fight or flight despite the situation having well passed by this point. It wasn’t your first time dealing with men that didn’t respect your boundaries, but it was the first time you couldn't deal with the situation on your own.

You tried to ignore it, finally laying down and turning away from Mizu, not really wanting to make your situation with her weirder than you already might have.

Despite being so worried, it didn’t take long for you to drift off to sleep, but your dreams were nowhere near pleasant. The only thing that kept replaying in your mind was what could have happened had Mizu not gotten there in time, you struggled throughout your dream, pulling as hard as you could to get out of the men's grasp to no avail. You called out to Mizu for help but she was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Ringo.

You quietly muttered Mizu’s name in your sleep, tossing and turning a bit as you continued to struggle. You weren’t being entirely disruptive but it was enough to wake Mizu up, thinking that you were calling for her which confused her once she realized you were still fast asleep. She was going to head right back to sleep before she had heard you say her name again, this time in a bit more of a panicked manner than you had last time.

She sat up this time now realizing that you were having a nightmare. She very carefully grabbed your shoulders, very lightly trying to shake you awake to snap out of it. It took a minute but once you had woken up, you immediately shot up out of the bed, moving away from Mizu as fast as possible.

“Hey, calm down, it’s me.” She said in a low voice, holding out her hand to you. She couldn’t see you very well given the low light but she could hear your rapid breathing and it worried her a bit. She knew what it was like to have nightmares but it had been so long since she had reacted in such a way that she almost forgot other people can still be frightened by them too.

“You’re okay.” She added on, trying to give you some form of comfort. In your panicked state, you grabbed Mizu’s hand, not entirely knowing what else to do considering how disorienting it was to wake up in a place you didn’t recognize and not being able to properly see your surroundings. Mizu took your hand and very gently pulled you closer to her, keeping her breathing slow and steady hoping you would begin to mimic her.

Now that you could feel Mizu and actually had something to ground yourself with, you finally began to calm down.

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly. You could feel her shift to look down at you.

“For what?” She asked, you could tell her confusion was genuine so you took a deep breath before explaining,

“I’m sorry you have to put up with this. You didn’t even want me in the group to begin with and now I’m giving you all these problems, I’m slowing you down for finding whatever man you’re going after.” You apologized. Once you had finished, you both sat in silence for a moment with Mizu still holding you. Despite what you had just said, you felt comfortable, you both did.

“Don’t be.” She began, “I get them too, nightmares I mean.” She admitted. You could feel her sigh a bit before going on to explain, “It’s been a long time since I started getting them though, so I don’t really react much anymore. I’m assuming this is your first time?” She asked to which you nodded.

“Maybe the next time we have some time, we should practice sparring again. That way you’ll be prepared for something like that.” She suggested lightheartedly causing you to give out a very light laugh. This was probably the most either of you had said about the topic since it had happened.

By this point, your breathing had returned to normal and you were much calmer than you were before. You couldn’t help but feel dreary as the adrenaline and fear slowly made its way out of your system and exhaustion took over.

“Hey Mizu?” You began through a yawn. You heard her make a small sound in acknowledgement as you finished yawning, “Can we stay like this?” You asked. You felt more comfortable in her arms than you had in a long time and you didn’t want to let go of that feeling… not yet at least.

You couldn't tell but a small smile had made its way onto Mizu’s face as she answered with a very short and simple, “Sure.”

By the time you had both laid down, you were practically out cold, but it was clear you weren’t going to be bothered by nightmares this time.

Every thought in Mizu’s mind was telling her she shouldn’t be doing this, she shouldn’t be getting so close to you, she couldn’t let herself get distracted. She had a goal and she had to finish it no matter what.

But she couldn’t help but secretly indulge in the joy she felt whenever she was around you. She tried to keep herself as distant from you as she could so she wouldn’t get attached but clearly that plan didn’t work like she had hoped. She knew one day she would have to get over herself and continue on like she planned, but now was not that day, tonight she didn’t need to worry about concerns of the future, all she had to worry about was your safety.

And for the first time in a long time there was not a single nightmare in sight for either of you.

[sydnikov]

Carry Me Home || S. Aho

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Sebastian Aho/fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: Sebastian Aho is frustrated with his team’s loss against the New York Islanders. He takes it out on you in a rather primitive way.

Warnings: 18+ smut smut smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it up kiddos!), oral (f receiving), bits of dom!Sepe, breeding kink if you squint, cursing, angst, not much fluff in this one

A/N: Surprise! My first smut fic. I hate myself. I blame the Hurricanes playing like shit for making me write this. As usual, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!! I certainly didn’t (kidding) P.S. Title is from “All The Small Things” by Blink 182

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

Sebastian Aho feels fire in his veins. His skin is flushed, hot to the touch, with his hair smoking from sweat-soaked strands boiling into steam. He is a steadily growing inferno, biding his time before unleashing his wrath.

There was no other time in his life he could think of where he had ever felt so frustrated, so angry.

Painful grunts and the sounds of sticks hitting the ice so hard they break echo in his ears, just as the sound of the puck hitting the goal post every time he shot it did, too. In the back of his mind, Sebastian knows that winning takes more than just one player, but yet all he can think is my fault my fault my fault.

He is an alternate captain, after all. It’s his job to help lead his team, to get them the wins they deserve. So ever since the start of this season, why had he been failing to do so?

Sebastian couldn’t dominate the Islanders on his own no matter how much he wanted to… But there is one person he knows he can.

As the Fin aggressively unties his skates, he imagines the strands of your hair tangled in his fingers as the laces get stuck on his glove. As he rips off his undershirt, he imagines doing the same to your bra.

When the reporters ask the same question they do after every game, “What could you have done better?” and pretend not to flinch when he shoots them a glare, he imagines your wide-eyed gaze as he tells you, c’mon, you can take it, yeah?

He kind of wishes he could say the same thing to these fucking reporters as he imagines giving one or two or preferably all of them a black eye—in a different scenario, of course.

Oh, but you are so good to him. He doesn’t deserve you. There is absolutely nothing in this world that can take you away from him, not now and not ever.

The winger speaks to no one except for the coaching staff as he eventually storms out of the locker room, exchanging a few words about practice and something about more line changes before he is finally let go.

Sebastian doesn’t want to think about hockey anymore. He wants to think about you.

Meanwhile, you were planted outside said locker room with a few of the wives and girlfriends, leaning against the wall while you all tried to talk about anything other than the disaster of a game you’d just watched.

It was hard watching the person you love get so upset and disappointed, especially when knowing how much pressure he puts on himself to be a leader of his team. There were many nights laying in bed, his head resting on your chest, that he revealed the bits and pieces of his carefully shielded heart how responsible he feels for his team’s performance.

How every loss chips away at his self-respect, leaving him feeling broken and lost as he struggles to find a way to get his team back on top. He was only one man, yet felt the weight of a thousand suns bearing down on his shoulders, relying on him to score.

And score he tries. Everything he could do he does; he racks up the points, he makes assists, but all his efforts still couldn’t bring them out on top.

You know Sebastian feels worthless, and you aren’t sure how he’s going to express it as you spot him marching up to you.

“Hey,” is your first word to him, spoken softly and carefully before he pulls you into his chest. The first thing you notice is that he feels like a human furnace; the chill you’d become used to after sitting next to an ice rink for over two hours is immediately replaced with warmth, and you can’t help but bury your head into his chest at the feel of it. “I’m sorry, Sepe.”

The pressure he so often feels immediately dissipates at the sound of your voice. Sebastian releases a strained sigh and curls over your body in a protective embrace, his mind racing with millions of words at a million miles per hour but the only ones he can hear are mine mine mine as you look up at him with unbridled affection.

“Kulta,” My honey, he murmurs, wet strands of hair falling over his eyes as he looks down at you. “You’re still here,” he can’t help but say, almost as if he were expecting you to be gone because he didn’t win.

You soften even more if that were possible. “I would never leave you,” you say with conviction, your words meant to be taken innocently yet all Sebastian could think of is the image of you under him as he thrusts into you, making you say the same words over and over again.

“What was that?”

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. C’mon, pretty girl, say it for me again,”

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He needs to get you home, immediately.

Lacing his fingers through yours, the Finn presses a heated kiss to your lips, groaning so deep in his chest it has your face flushing a beautiful shade of red which has him thinking truly awful things before the two of you leave the arena.

Sebastian wants nothing more than to take care of you, and thinks briefly that maybe this is a developing unhealthy coping mechanism in the works, but as he opens the car door for you and locks eyes on the way your lips flash him a sweet smile, he can’t find it in himself to care.

You’re just so innocent; it’s in your nature to see the good in everything, to see the good in him despite his less-than holy thoughts. While he doesn’t consider his sex life with you vanilla by any means, he almost feels guilty for all the degrading ways he was thinking of you.

Sebastian was not on top of his game tonight, but he was determined, now, to be on top of you.

Your mind, however, is running rampant in all of the ways you think this night could go, and with Sebastian’s large hand splayed across your thigh as he drives the two of you home, you’re fairly positive in your understanding of what your role is going to be.

It’s funny because you’ve been with him for several years now and he still never fails to get your heart racing. Everything about him has you feeling a certain type of way, especially now as you catch shy peeks of his side profile; clenched jaw, ruffled hair, and blazing eyes…

You can’t help but rub your thighs together, a pleasurable tingle starting low in your belly and spreading warmth throughout the rest of your body as Sebastian gives you a look that spells trouble.

He adjusts the hold he has on your thigh, gripping the flesh just a little bit tighter. “Gonna get you home soon, don’t worry,” he says, almost to himself. It has your eyes widening and your heart beating faster because the tone of his voice is almost feral.

Sebastian is not what you would consider rough in bed. He has his moments, where he uses his strength to flip you over or manhandle you into whatever position he wants, but he’s never been the type to fuck you against a wall or anything of the sorts.

And as dominating as he could sometimes be, his softer side more than made up for it. Sweet but deep kisses to your lips, teeth lovingly nipping marks onto the sides of your breasts, hands roaming all over your body with gentle squeezes and caresses, and a body that seldom ran out of stamina making sure your pleasure always comes before his.

His mouth, however… Sebastian’s mouth is the word ‘dirty’ personified. Sinful lips creating words you’d never want your mother to hear, and a tongue that knew every weak spot on your body to leave you shivering in its wake.

In fact, you couldn’t help but remember the last time his mouth was put to use. Twas the night before, actually, where his body was restless and his solution to getting his energy out was sliding down the length of your body with whispered praises, slipping your panties to the side with his pointer finger, and attaching his lips first thing to your clit—

The sound of your name from the very voice of the man you were just fantasizing about interrupts your thoughts. You quickly turn to find that Sebastian already powered off and exited the vehicle and is holding your door open for you, looking at you with slight concern.

He says your name again when you fail to respond, suddenly starstruck.

Sebastian is just and his arms are so and his lips so full and kissable and him—

The next thing you know, the Finn has wrapped his large hands around your waist and is yanking you out of the car, mouth swooping down to meet your eager lips.

He kisses the life out of you, simultaneously slamming the car door shut so he can press you hard against it. The thought that you have any semblance of control right now slips through your rattled brain not unlike the slickness you can feel dripping down your legs.

He was the epitome of domineering, in no mood to let you think you had any say in what he is going to do to you. Tonight is about him needing a release, and the only way he is going to get it is through you.

Or, rather, by him burying himself so deep inside you you wouldn’t be able to walk for days. The thought has his cock throbbing, unable to resist pressing his hips into the heat between your thighs.

The feeling of his dick against your most sensitive spot has you releasing a breathless whine, and then your kisses become harder against his lips, more desperate.

Sebastian bites at your bottom lip, his own rising into a smirk once he feels rather than hears the resulting gasp catch in your throat. He lets one of his hands rise from the grip he has on your ass to slide carefully around your neck, firmly grasping the front of your throat to bring you closer.

The action has you flat-out whimpering, your hands sinking into the winger’s hair, tugging at the strands so hard he hisses. Now, the Finn is no submissive by any means, but never have you seen him so, so… Dominant.

You decide right then and there that you rather like this side of him.

“Sepe,” you try to speak, but the words catch in your throat again as his kisses move from your lips, past his hand still gripping your throat, and down to the sensitive skin of your collarbone. “—I can’t,”

He hums, your pleas merely background noise as he sucks red marks into your skin. “Can’t what? Gonna have to be more specific, nappula,”

Button. Oh, you are so fucked. Literally. His button. He called you his button. His his his.

Unable to take his slow teasing, you tear him away from your neck to bring him back to your eager lips, a desperate sound crawling up your throat as his hands move to bury themselves in your hair.

“Take me to bed, please,”

Sebastian practically melts at your words. Knowing your desperation, he moves his hands back from your hair down to your thighs, tapping once and then twice where you finally got the memo to jump. He curls your legs over his hips, sliding one hand under your ass with the other pressing supportively against the small of your back.

The five-second walk to the front door has the hand previously holding your back trembling as he fumbles with his keys. Finally opening the door after forcing himself to focus, despite the feeling of your mouth leaving teasing nips and kisses, Sebastian mutters a long string of curses as he hurriedly steps into the house, swiftly kicking the door shut behind him.

“Such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear, his free hand grasping onto the back of your neck to bring you back to his lips. He kisses you sensually, reveling in the softness of your body molding perfectly against his. “Bet you’ve been waiting for me all night.”

You nod rapidly in agreement, hands trying to find purchase on the smooth lines of his suit so you could begin tearing it off of him. “I’m always wanting you, Sepe,”

Sebastian hisses another curse, and the next thing you know your back is landing softly on the large mattress that is his bed. He gives you no time to gather your thoughts before he’s climbing on top of you. His calloused hands slip under your shirt to remove it, granting him full access to knead at your tits.

The forward kisses you again, tongue tracing lines across your bottom lip before forcefully pushing his way in. You can feel him everywhere and nowhere all at once, a strangled sound escaping your throat as his hips start grinding into the throbbing heat between your legs.

“Seb,” you try, back arching as his hands skillfully move to unclasp your bra. “Oh fuck, Seb, please,”

The sound of your cries has Sebastian grinning wolfishly, your desperation filling him with a sick sense of pride. “Please what?”

Suddenly, you understand his teammates just a little bit more when they would call him a little shit and other various, foul nicknames in front of you.

Clumsily grabbing one of his hands from where it was still massaging your tit, your legs fall open as you press his palm directly over the material of your pants, almost positive they were wet. “Please just touch me, please—”

Your babbling is interrupted when he begins peppering your face with soothing kisses, apologetically rubbing his thumb over your nipple while the other makes its way under your pants and down to your slit, thoroughly soaked with your arousal.

“This all for me?” he coos as two fingers run through your lips, taking the natural lubricant to rub tight circles over your clit. “You’re soaked, kisu.”

The resulting mewl that escapes you afterwards lives up to the name he just called you. Kitty.

Sebastian watches your reactions with hooded eyes, taking note of the way your breath hitches when he rubs your clit a certain way; he knows the ins and outs of your body by now, but every time you have sex there is still something new to learn, and there is nothing Sebastian is if not eager to learn. He’s particularly fond of the way you arch into him as he sinks two fingers inside you, grinning as you cry out while the calloused pads of his fingertips curl against the spongy wall of nerves nestled near the front of your walls.

With panting breaths and strangled moans, your thighs shake as his thumb finds its way back to your clit and rubs it in circles the same way his fingers are doing inside you. Your stomach feels as if it’s in knots, hands gripping the sheets beneath you so hard they’ve gone numb, and your mind is blissfully blank except for the repetitive thought of more more more.

You echo this sentiment to him, to which he merely picks up the pace in response. It’s almost too much but a good too much, like the peak of your pleasure is just climbing higher and higher, almost impossible to reach but you can feel it right there—

Suddenly, all pleasurable movements stop. You snap your head up, aghast, cheeks flushed with arousal and now irritation because were were so fucking close and now all you’re left with is a disappointed burn between your legs. “Sebastian, what the actual fuck,”

The very man himself licks his lips, looking all too pleased with the way you’re relying on him to help you finish. “Patience,” is all he says, flashing you a shiny smile before skilled hands are sliding the rest of your pants and underwear down your legs. Instinctively your legs try to close at the feel of cold air hitting your pussy, but Sebastian is having none of it as he swiftly pries your thighs back apart.

“Shy?” He teases, stroking your inner thigh before pulling his shirt off his head. You have a reply prepared, but quickly lose your train of thought as his torso is revealed; Sebastian is all hard planes of muscle, golden skin with a light dusting of body hair, and so distinctly male he has you practically drooling as you reach out to trail your hands down his chest.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his waist to bring his body down on top of yours. You want, no, need him close to you. While your veins were still full of liquid fire, your nerves so hot that every brush of his skin against yours left you quaking, there is still a certain amount of intimacy that could always be found within your actions towards each other.

A certain intimacy that leads to whispered praises like these; Sebastian flushes, momentarily forgetting the role he vowed to take after the agony that had been wreaking havoc in his mind since his team’s loss. “Kulta,” he says, breath hitching as he presses his lips to your neck to taste the light sheen of sweat covering your skin. He kisses your body like you are his shrine, sworn to you in utter devotion. “Kaunis tyttöni.”

My beautiful girl. Every word from that point onward tumbles past his lips in Finnish, because in what other way can he describe the beauty you encapsulate? You are an angel, after all, his angel, in fact, and his only. With his hands settling on the curves of your waist to further cement his point, he continues his assault on your neck with teeth and tongue all while he grinds his covered dick against your bare pussy.

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me, please,”

And just like that, the indescribable need to claim claim claim takes over his body once more. His eyes darken, the lust swallowing his senses moving him to quickly strip the slacks he wore off his legs, and then he reaches into his boxers to pull out his dick.

You could never get over the sight of his cock, you think momentarily as you stare, mesmerized by the flushed head and leaking tip. He took on more girth than length, and to you it’s nothing less than perfect because Sebastian is the only man who has ever gotten you to the point where you’re unable to walk the next day.

Maybe that speaks more of his knowledge of the female anatomy compared to your exes, but nonetheless you’re grateful.

You bite your lip, one of your hands falling from his back to reach down and take his erection in your hand. Sebastian hisses through his teeth at the feeling of you gripping him, and watches for a moment as you stroke him almost gently.

“I’m going to need you to stop that,” he speaks, a groan following right after before he quickly swats your hand away.

You frown, a slight pout on your lips. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to come in two minutes like a teenager if you keep it up, kisu.”

“Well when you say it like that—”

You’re interrupted by Sebastian slamming your lips back together, your words gone just as quickly as they’d come. Oh, how you could kiss him for ages and never be sick of it. You say this to him, or at least attempt to, before his hand not buried in your hair finds its way back down to your clit and rubs rather roughly.

“Want to taste you,” he mumbles, drunk on the sight of you under him as he lines up his dick with your entrance. “Want to taste you so bad. But I need to be inside you first,”

You try to respond, but then Sebastian is kissing you again right as the head of his cock pushes its way into your cunt. It burns, but a good burn because you would never be used to his size and the feel of him sliding deeper sets all your nerve endings on fire. You’re forced to adjust quickly, and something about him not caring if you’re ready or not has you dripping.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, restless hands weaving through his hair and all over his back, refusing to settle. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, too consumed with how good it felt being stretched to lie still beneath him. “Feels so good, Seb,”

“Yeah?” he huffs into your ear, hot breaths against your skin sending shivers down your spine. “God, you’re perfect,” Sebastian groans, his hips suddenly snapping forward. The angle has him hitting the sweet spot inside you perfectly, your walls clamping down tight around him which sends you both spiraling.

You cry out as he begins moving, the strength behind the force of his thrusts staggering because very rarely did he lose control with you. Sebastian tends to treat you like priceless jewelry, but you’re anything but tonight as his teeth sink into your neck to muffle his moans.

His pubic bone rubs against your clit deliciously every time his hips come down, and you couldn’t help but try and tilt your own upwards to match him. Sebastian clearly appreciates your efforts, hissing something that sounds distinctively like a curse.

Past the ringing in your ears, you can hear him muttering to himself. His eyes are squeezed shut against the rolling tides of pleasure coursing through his body, but his mouth is anything but closed. Then his head is lifting suddenly, hair now slick with sweat hanging over his eyes as he looks down at you.

“I need you to come around me,” he says, voice nothing more than a rasp. “Want to feel you squeezing me.”

“Please,” you interrupt, but he either doesn’t hear your plea or chooses to ignore you.

“Then I’m going to taste you, and when you come I’m going to fuck you again.”

Your head is nodding rapidly at his words because there is zero part of you that ever wants him to stop. It was almost primitive the way he was taking you, and you maybe liked it a little more than you should.

Sebastian picks up the pace, and you find yourself thankful - not for the first time - for his insane amount of stamina. The strength conditioning he goes through on a daily basis makes you wonder how he doesn’t just die, but nonetheless you can’t help but appreciate it.

His hands find their way under your back in the midst of your appreciative thoughts, settled on your lower back just above your ass, when he tilts your hips up and his cock strikes the sensitive, spongy spot inside you head-on. It has you keening loudly, uncontrollably—one of your hands previously gripping the sheets jerkily moves to cover your mouth, your own noises embarrassing you.

He doesn’t notice at first, too busy moving his hips in the same pattern as before because he enjoys the way you grip him like a vice, your body’s way of telling him he’s doing a good job, but when he sees you trying to muffle your noises he instantly grows possessive.

Possessive of you, your noises, because in his feral mind everything about you belongs to him and Sebastian doesn’t want you ever holding yourself back. Your name falls from his lips darkly, “You don’t hide yourself from me,” one of his hands drags yours from your mouth, the other splaying across your lower back to keep your body in the same position.

You try to apologize, but your breath escapes you when his hand slides itself down your body, brushing past one of your nipples, then dipping into your navel where his fingers once again find your swollen clit. He rubs quickly, dick ramming into you even faster than before.

Now more than ever Sebastian wants you to come undone beneath him, and soon he gets his wish as the calloused pads of his fingertips roll your clit in time with one, two, and then on the third thrust your entire body seizes.

Tensing, clenching, shuddering—your eyes flutter as your vision goes white, and you feel nothing except for wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure rushing through you. Vaguely, you feel what you think is Sebastian gently continuing his ministrations on your clit in time with slow thrusts, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm.

Then your eyes are opening after what feels like hours but had really only been minutes of you going still. You tense again, this time with sensitivity rather than pleasure, and he reads your body perfectly as he slides out of you, removing his fingers from your clit at the same time.

You come to a realization then, “Wait, you didn’t come,” you murmur, and Sebastian has a mischievous sparkle in his eye that makes you think he held himself back on purpose. You’re proven right when he suddenly slides down your body, hands prying your thighs apart before settling on your hips, holding you open like his very own buffet.

He lets out a long sound, like he still can’t believe you’re right here in front of him, and then his mouth is meeting the slick folds of your pussy. The timespan between your first orgasm and him now feasting on you has your mind reeling, blissfully going numb as his warm, wet tongue licks into you.

“Sepe,” you whine, having not yet decided if you could handle another orgasm so close to your last. He parrots your name back, the vibrations from his voice rumbling pleasantly. “You can take it,” he coos, hooded eyes watching your face as his lips now fully latch onto your clit. He sucks, steadily picking up the intensity until your thighs are shaking uncontrollably.

He doesn’t stop, not as your cries grow louder and you subconsciously try squirming away from him. He just holds your hips down, anyways. As his tongue joins the mix, dipping down to flick at your nub suctioned in between his lips, one of his hands moves down to dip two fingers into your folds.

Sebastian groans at your wet heat enveloping his digits, already greedy for the feeling of you squeezing his dick again. Then he starts thrusting his finger, timing it with the flicks of his tongue, and then you’re coming all over again. “There you go, such a good girl for me,” he praises as your pussy spasms, eagerly lapping up your juices like you’re his favorite meal.

Oh god. You are officially fucked-out. You definitely have a bad case of sex-for-brains. You can’t think beyond the sensitivity of your overwhelmed nether regions, and yet as Sebastian crawls up your body for the third time you can’t help but have your legs fall open to welcome him.

This is new for him, too. Sebastian’s endurance is extraordinary, yes, but he never really let himself use it to his full extent with you. Now, though? He wants to explore the thrill of dominance, of controlling you when everything else in his life slips through his fingers.

Against his will, he thinks of his team for a moment. It’s still too raw of a feeling, he finds, hating the way disappointment and frustration bubbles up inside him. Sebastian swallows roughly, squeezes his eyes shut as if that would help block out the sound of the final buzzer ringing in his ears, and then kisses you to distract himself.

As he lines himself back up with your entrance, you both find that the energized tension between you has cooled significantly. Sebastian is less restless and jerky with his movements, and your desperation has cooled as your legs wrap around his waist. He whimpers into your neck, then, his arms curling under your back to press your bodies even closer together.

Your roles switch, and you whisper sweet and dirty nothings into Sebastian’s ear as his hips roll into you. The head of his cock scratches that delicious part inside of you, and soon your words turn into gasps which are music to his ears. One thrust has you squeezing him particularly hard, and his rhythm stutters. “Fuck, you feel amazing,”

His lips form into an o-shape, and suddenly he finds that his high is coming (hah) much quicker than expected. He expresses such, or thinks he does, because all you do is moan in response when his thrusts pick up speed.

He wants to send you into your third orgasm before letting go himself, and even though Sebastian has been rather selfish tonight, one thing that would never change is that your pleasure would always come before his—no matter what.

“Gonna come for me?” Sebastian teases, lips managing to curl into a brief smirk before you’re squeezing him again, wiping it right off his face. “Yeah? Look so pretty taking my cock, baby,”

“I’m close,”

“I know. Let go for me.”

And let go you do. You seize up, not for the first time tonight, before shuddering with full force in the wake of your third release. Your vision goes white in time with the ringing of your ears as you’re consumed in it, feeling too much but also not enough at the same time because your boyfriend is a force you could never get sick of.

Your walls are squeezing Sebastian like a vice, and it only takes him a few more thrusts as you ride out your orgasm before he’s falling into his own. He groans from deep in his chest, arms shakily moving to rest on either side of your head as he buries his own in your neck.

He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as his dick pulses inside you, pumping you full of his cum while you shudder beneath him. It fills Sebastian with a primal sense of satisfaction, knowing he’s claimed you from the inside out.

You’re his, still repeats itself in his mind on repeat, until both of your bodies are spent and he’s rolling off of you exhaustedly. You’re still panting when he turns to look at you, and without hesitation he pulls you into his chest so you can rest your tired body against his.

It takes you a few minutes until you can muster the energy to move, and when you do it’s to tilt your head up to look up at him. You murmur his name, quietly, lest you disturb the fragile peace the two of you find yourselves in. “Sepe?”

“Mhmm?”

“Do you feel better?” It’s a loaded question, you both know, and he takes a few minutes to think about it.

Sebastian’s body feels better, yes. It’s limp, relaxed, the achy tension long-gone from his muscles. The moment he first sank into you he felt immensely better, actually, now that he thinks about it.

His mind, however, is a completely different story.

Colors of red, orange, and blue flash behind his eyes; the colors of his jersey and the opposing team’s, with the haunting sound of the final buzzer still playing in his memory. He thinks of the anger, of his teammates’ faces as they marched defeatedly into the locker room.

No, he thinks with sudden clarity. No, he doesn’t feel better. Sebastian doesn’t say this though; it probably isn’t the answer you want to hear, considering how you explored a new aspect of your relationship tonight.

You know, though. You always know—Sebastian is your better half, and you can understand him more than your own self sometimes, now being one of those moments.

“I love you,” you say after several minutes of silence. Your declaration - the first of the night, he suddenly realizes - says everything he needs to know, about how you feel for him and that he has your support no matter what.

Sebastian swallows, finding that his throat is parched. Lying naked under the sheets, vulnerable and oh-so-exposed, he lowers his head to kiss you sweetly. You mold together softly, and a low rumble can be felt from his chest as you gently nip at his bottom lip.

He is a man of few words, preferring to show his feelings with actions rather than words and this just happened to be one of those moments. He loves you so much, more than words can describe, his lips say, before they gently part from yours.

You admire him in his full glory before he opens his mouth to speak. His hair is incredibly ruffled, from both your hands and the game he played, his full lips swollen red from your kisses, and his eyes have a light sheen to him that suggest he’s more emotional than letting on.

Sebastian raises a hand to your cheek, large yet gentle palm caressing the soft skin as he gazes at you like you’re precious porcelain. “I love you,”

Your lips break into a small smile, and then you’re curling farther into his chest. You’re far too comfortable to move, figuring aftercare in the bathtub can come later. For now, you’re content; your body is sated, and with his cum dripping down your legs you’ve never felt so full with love.

Sebastian knows he has hell to face tomorrow morning. He knows it, but doesn’t really care. For now, in the peaceful silence of his room with only the gentle sounds of your breaths to keep him company, he chooses to forget.

He’s only one man, after all. He can’t carry his team, but he can carry you.

A/N: This is the first time I've written in present tense, which was actually a lot harder than I thought because I kept using past tense action verbs 💀 it was a fun challenge though!! Hopefully my parents never ask me what exactly it is that I write about because. Uh. Yeah. Once again, please reblog and comment :))

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[darthgloris]

Adorable

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x fem!Jedi!bi!reader

Summary: Luke and Y/N have had a special bond since she first found him unconscious on the Jundland wastes; however, their friendly thoughts about each other turn into deeper feelings soon enough, feelings that seem obvious to everyone but each other. Princess Leia has had enough of their obliviousness and, with the help of her counterpart Han Solo, decides to give them a little push in the right direction.

Warnings: set between A New Hope and Empire Strikes Back so SPOILERS, fluff, romantic tension, sexual tension, Luke being a shy and rambling mess, bi!reader

A/N: I'm writing this fic for @c4m3r4m4n, who fell in love with an idea drafted up by @dailydragon08 (to whom I give credit for the plot of the fic, thank you very much). I hope you like it :) also it's been a while since I've published, I feel like the ancient one has been awoken 💀💀

☆☆☆

"I won't go easy on you, Skywalker." Y/N taunted, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

"I'm not asking you to." Luke countered with a smile, followed by the hum of his igniting weapon.

She smirked at his response, hoping that the duel would take his focus off her burning cheeks. The two bowed to each other and she didn't hesitate to deliver the first blow, raising her brows in surprise at how readily he lifted the weapon in front of him to block her. Y/N smiled as her green lightsaber clashed against her sparring partner's blue one, watching him deflect every strike with a look of concentration etched onto his face.

She was proud of how far Luke had come since he first held his father's lightsaber in his hands, nearly losing a limb to inexperience. He had made staggering progress in the last few months of training: looking back at the farm boy who almost chopped his arm off on accident, she noticed how he was slowly starting to rely on the Force as well as on his abilities, how he was starting to get out of his head and stop overthinking every single movement, every action and reaction.

Her gaze moved from their lightsabers to his face, the face that she adored so much. She adored his eyes that reminded her of the midwinter sky, holding the innocence of a young boy and an ever-present mischievous twinkle; his sandy blonde hair that drooped over his eyes when he looked down in shyness, a small smile playing at his lips; and most importantly, his heart of gold, his kindness, gentleness, and selflessness-

"Maker, are you all right?!" Luke exclaimed, pulling her out of her thoughts. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!"

Just then the pain in her hand registered in her brain, and she looked down to see a cut across her palm. It wasn't serious, just a small wound, but she found it cute that he worried so much.

"Luke, it's okay, it's just a cut," she said in an attempt to calm him. "I've hurt myself dozens of times before."

"But... but I'm the one who hurt you..." he mumbled, his sad puppy eyes looking up at her. "Come here, let me clean it."

"Really, Luke, it's fine-" she started.

"Please?" He pouted with genuine guilt in his eyes.

She couldn't say no to him. It just wasn't in her. "Okay."

He walked across the room while she sat down and he came back with a medikit. He knelt down in front of her, making her breath hitch in her throat. He started to tend to her wound carefully, holding her hand with a gentleness she had never been touched or treated with before. He dabbed a piece of cloth on her hand, looking at her in guilt whenever she flinched.

"Sorry about this," he mumbled, grabbing the disinfectant. "This is going to sting a bit."

She hissed as the chemicals dropped into her open skin while Luke mumbled apologies and soothing words.

"Oh, come on. It happens." She dismissed.

"Still, I feel bad. You know I'd never hurt you on purpose, right? Physically or otherwise." He stated.

She felt the butterflies fluttering in her stomach at the statement, the hope of her feelings towards him being reciprocated warming her heart. She mumbled an "I know" and looked at him, focused on the task at hand, his blonde locks flopping over his eyes. When he felt her gaze on him, he looked at her through his eyelashes, smiling softly at her to let her know he caught her staring. He shifted his gaze to her hand, hoping to hide the rosy blush creeping up on the apples of his cheeks, although he did so quick enough to miss her doing the same.

It was often that Luke got flustered when he was near her, and, even if he was very skilled at hiding it (at least from her), he never seemed to notice that she nearly always did the exact same thing. Every time he caught her staring, he felt his heart jump a little: it pleased him to know that she admired him, that she trusted him, that she cared for him. Whenever she would display any sort of affection towards him, he would feel a warm and tingly sensation spreading from his heart and tummy all the way to the tips of his fingers.

Luke was hopeful; most of the time he thought he was naive for believing a girl as wonderful and headstrong as Y/N could ever want a guy like him, so fragile and sensitive. He thought, no, he knew, that she was truly gorgeous, intelligent and strong-willed, and he also knew that she deserved much better than him, but he still wanted to make her happy and never once doubted his feelings for her.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked, sensing his mind wandering.

"Not much. Just..." He hesitated to finish his sentence. "...thinking about Ben. I wish I could have done something about it."

"Believe me, I do, too," she said sadly, apparently not seeing through his lie. "I miss him a lot. I can't believe I was so stupid to lose him right after I had found him again."

"Yeah, I know. He was important to you, wasn't he?" He asked tentatively, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on the uninjured areas of her hand.

"He really was. When I was a child, I adored him. When I got in trouble, I always ran to hide behind his robes, and he smiled down at me a fondness that my parents had never looked at me with. I wanted nothing more than to be his Padawan," she sighed. "But I guess it just wasn't meant to be, was it?"

"I'm so sorry... I wish I had known," Luke said, smiling sympathetically. "But Obi-Wan or not, you turned out a better Jedi than I could ever be."

She smiled sincerely at him, appreciating the compliment that came from his heart, "You're really sweet, Luke. I bet you'll make a wonderful Jedi knight, too."

He giggled shyly, averting his gaze from her once again. He thanked her in a soft, shy voice that she found so adorable she could have melted into a puddle. "There, you're all set." He said as he bandaged her hand, tying up the loose end of the gauze on her palm.

"Thanks, Luke." She said, ruffling his hair.

"You're always welcome." He replied, hiding the blush rising to his face.

In a bout of courage, she threw her arms around his neck, pressing their cheeks together. He froze for a split second before wrapping his own around her waist, pulling her closer to him and inhaling her signature coconut scent. He could get drunk on her sweet smell that made him feel at peace. As she felt him get more comfortable, a mischievous thought entered her mind. She began to tickle his open armpits, making him yelp and squirm beneath her.

"Y/N, stop!" He laughed as she straddled him, pinning his wrists to the floor with one hand and using the other to tickle his stomach. He squealed and giggled, trying to get out of her grip, and as soon as she loosened her hold on his wrists, he flipped them on the sparring mat, landing her with a soft 'thump'. He threw one leg over the other side of her waist and pinned her wrists over her head in the same fashion as her. He aimed for her sides and she squealed, turning into a giggling, squirmy mess.

"Luke! You copycat!" She shrieked through her laughter.

He laughed, too, drinking in the pure joy of the moment, and noticed her face was red from happiness and laughter, as well as his, he assumed.

"Luke, Y/N, I need you to- oh..." Leia stumbled in, cutting herself off as she saw her two friends sharing an intimate moment. "Am I interrupting something?" She smirked.

Suddenly, they were both very aware of their position. Luke's eyes widened slightly and he cleared his throat, messily getting up and fixing his hair. He helped Y/N off the ground and she dusted herself off, looking to Leia, who still had that knowing smile plastered on her face. "No! No, you're not."

"Yeah... anyway," she dragged the first word out in suspicion. "We have an impromptu meeting to be at in fifteen minutes, just enough time for you to get changed."

"All right, we'll see you there." Luke said, smiling politely at his friend and leaving the room. Y/N soon followed suit, as their rooms were fairly close, in fact opposite each other.

Leia rolled her eyes, sighing in exasperation. It was clear as day that the two of them were enamoured with one another, everyone could see it except them. She could see it in their eyes when they looked at each other, in how gentle they were with each other. They'd share so many little moments like this, yet they'd never make a move. It was infuriating, to say the least.

Leia walked out of the room and through the halls of the rebel base. She bumped into someone on her way.

"Woah, Your Highness, what's got you so upset?" Han asked, nearly sarcastically, but she chose to answer honestly.

"I just walked in on Luke and Y/N having a tickle fight," she said. "It annoys the life out of me when they act like a couple but they don't even see that they actually like each other."

"Ugh, I know. It's painfully obvious to everyone but them." He agreed.

"Hang on. Are you agreeing with me, Han Solo?" She said, not waiting for his response. "Since this is the first thing we actually agree about, care to do something about it?"

He raised his eyebrows, interested. "What did you have in mind?"

"Oh, nothing too serious, just a bit of messing with them. Maybe they'll stop being so dense." She said.

"Good idea," he nodded, giving her credit. "We start after the meeting."

"Deal."

...

Y/N smiled softly at Luke and closed the door behind her, exhausted from the meeting. She huffed a breath and looked for a shirt and pants in her wardrobe, but couldn't find a sweater for the life of her. She looked through all of her room for her favorite green sweater, under the bed, behind the door, even beneath her covers, but there was no trace of it.

She hated that it disappeared, but she decided she was going to look for it after she's had a proper rest after a two-hour-long meeting. She knocked on Luke's door, who opened it and smiled softly at her. "Hi."

"Hi. I can't find my green sweater, do you have one I could borrow?" She dared to ask. It was an intimate gesture, surely, but she wanted that nap, and the only thing that was more comfy to sleep in than her favorite sweater was a warm sweater with Luke's soothing smell all over it. "Assuming you don't need it, of course."

"Um, sure," he said, rummaging through his clothes. "Here."

He handed her a white hoodie with no zipper. It was so soft and warm, it made her cheeks flush in anticipation. She pulled it over her head and sighed at the feeling. The sleeves were a bit bigger on her, and she loved it. It felt like a warm and loving embrace. It felt like his embrace.

"Thank you, Luke, you're a sweetheart," she said and he blushed furiously, but she didn't have the energy to notice. "I'll be taking a nap now, but if you need a favor, ask me, okay?"

"Okay," his voice cracked. "Have a good nap."

She left his room with a thankful smile.

She snuggled up in her bed, wrapping her arms around herself, as if it was Luke hugging her. She breathed in his smell, making her sigh in content. The warm feeling and the soothing scent lulled her to sleep quickly enough, with the image of Luke holding her and warming her up with his body heat.

...

After letting her borrow his hoodie, Luke felt much closer to her. He fell harder for her, if that was even possible. And when he saw her snuggled up in his clothes, his brain went blank and he forgot his own name for a moment. He wanted to hug her, to warm her up and fall asleep beside her, then to wake up next to her and wake her with a soft, open-mouthed kiss to her lips.

He pushed the thought to the back of his head as he saw her heading for the same closet he was. "Hi."

"Hi. How was your nap?"

"Best nap I've ever had. Your hoodie is the most comfortable thing I've ever worn. I'll give it back right after I grab some stuff here."

"No, no, you keep it."

She felt her heart warm at his offer. "Luke, you love this hoodie..."

But I love you more. "But you're happy. And that makes me happy."

She smiled lovingly at him, "Thank you so much. Really."

"You're always welcome..." He said, hesitant to finish his sentence. "...starflower."

She turned to him and her smile widened at the nickname, a blush rising to her cheeks. She got on her tip-toes to try to reach an old book on the highest shelf, straining to try to grab it. Luke noticed her struggle and moved up to her, and with a little jump, he caught the book and handed it to her. She smiled thankfully at him and kissed his cheek softly, making him blush.

Their sweet moment was interrupted by the lock clicking. "Oh, damn it!"

Luke tried to force the door open but failed, and when he turned around to face her, he noticed how incredibly close they were. His chest nearly touched hers, and he could feel her breathing pattern as whenever her chest expanded, he could feel it brush his own.

"This is... convenient." She said, making him chuckle.

"Yeah... sorry I didn't pay more attention."

"It's not your fault."

A comfortable silence fell over them, and Y/N shifted into a more comfortable position, accidentally brushing over Luke's hips. He blushed and bit his lip at the contact. "Sorry!"

"It's- it's fine..." His voice cracked. He felt his pants tighten and he blushed a dark red, sweating a copious amount. He was already super embarrassed and ashamed about accidentally getting a hard-on, and he was fairly sure he'd die if she saw.

He shifted away to try to put some distance between them, but accidentally stepped on her foot. She flinched backwards and fell over. Luke swiftly caught her, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. He pulled her up gently and his forehead was nearly touching hers. He closed his eyes, savoring the closeness between them. He wanted to brush the hair away from her face and kiss her until she was breathless, but he just didn't have the courage.

How ironic: Luke Skywalker, the man who destroyed the Death Star, couldn't strap on a pair and make a move on a girl. It was laughable, really.

He decided to test the waters by sliding his hands down to her hips in a featherlight touch. She felt something brushing her thigh and her eyes widened as she realized Luke was turned on by the situation, and decided to tease him a bit.

"Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"Is this your lightsaber or are you just really happy to see me?" She asked, a teasing edge to her voice as he tried to stutter out a response.

"I- I- I... uh, um... I..." He stammered, trying to think of a way to explain himself without sounding like a pervert. "I'm so, so, so sorry, I really didn't mean to, it was an accident... I really hope you could forgive me but if you don't want to talk to me ever again, I understand, I..."

He looked so cute, flustered about something that simple. She couldn't really see him all that well, but she was sure he was blushing the darkest red possible.

"Relax, Luke, I'm just teasing you," she giggled. "It's normal. It could have happened to any guy."

"Wha..? Really?"

"Of course. Honestly, I'm a little flattered." She smiled slyly, making him whimper in embarrassment.

"Could you do me a favor?" He asked. "Could you maybe... not tell anyone about this?"

"I'd never, Luke," she cupped his cheek and gently moved his face to make him meet her eyes. "It's going to be our secret."

He smiled softly at her. "Thanks for being so understanding."

Bravely, she leaned up and kissed his nose. "No problem."

Just as Luke started to gather enough courage to lean down to kiss her, the lock started rattling. The two snapped their heads in the direction of the door as it opened to reveal Han and Chewbacca on the other side.

"What in the Maker's name are you two doing in here?"

Chewie growled suggestively.

"Shush, Fuzzball, someone locked us in here." Luke dismissed.

He growled again in an attempt to sass Luke.

...

Y/N thought back to her moment with Luke as she sat with her friends on the Falcon. The hopes of him feeling the same way about her rekindled when he got aroused, but she was almost sure that any guy would have been turned on by the closeness in that sort of situation.

Luke surprised himself at how comfortable he was with her after that awkward situation. Maybe if he was braver and not that hopeless, his arousal could have taken the status quo to the next level. After all, if there was anyone he wanted to be touched by, kissed by and held by, it was her. Everything from her soulful eyes to her intelligence, and even her plush lips made him melt-

"Kid, snap out of it!" Han called, making Luke do a double-take on the controls of the Falcon.

"Huh- what?" He blubbered, blushing.

"Could you scooch, please?" Leia asked and Luke complied, sliding onto the chair next to Y/N. He gave her a shining smile and looked at the controls. "Thanks."

Y/N reciprocated his grin, thinking back on the cuddly feeling of his hoodie cocooning her and lulling her to sleep.

"Excuse me..." Leia said and leaned over to Y/N's area to pull a lever. Luke leaned to the side and felt the back of his head rest against a soft cushioning.

"Um, Luke..." Y/N said hesitantly and Luke's eyes widened when he realized he had leaned his head on her breasts.

"Oh, stars-" he said and swiftly got up from his seat, red as a tomato and paced back and forth. "I'm sorry, Y/N, I'm sorry, I didn't do it on purpose! I would never do anything like this to you on purpose! Not that I don't find you attractive enough to- I need to lie down..."

"Kid, for fuck's sake, stop talking." Han said and Y/N chuckled at Luke's antics, shaking her head fondly. She was certainly flustered to have his head on her chest, but him trying to explain himself was too funny not to laugh at.

Meanwhile, Leia watched the scene unfold, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. She gave Han a side eye, to which he shook his head in exasperation. They had set him up so perfectly and he still managed to screw it up. "All right, I'm going to go lie down. And make sure Luke didn't die of self-loathing." She waved goodbye to her friends and walked away. As soon as she was out of earshot, Leia looked at Han, clenching her jaw.

"This isn't working. Why isn't this working?" She asked.

"I have no idea. They can't even seem to acknowledge that they both enjoyed the closest thing they ever had to sexual contact." He rolled his eyes.

"I think it's time to pull out the big guns." Leia said and Han tilted his head in curiosity.

"What do you suggest?"

"You have to come on to Y/N. And don't you stop until Luke is red with anger and wants to hit you."

"All right." He patronized, laughing at the thought of Luke trying to punch him.

...

Luke always got along with Han, but right now every word that came out of his mouth made him clench his fists, knuckles turning white.

He couldn't believe he was actually flirting with Y/N.

After encouraging him to make a move all this time, he felt betrayed and fairly angry that he was going after the love of his life even if he clearly had a thing for Leia. He didn't care if he was doing it to prove a point or he was sincerely into her, but he hated it nonetheless.

It started out small, with innocent touches paired with "trouble never looked so goddamn fine", or "I'd do anything for a woman with a knife", all of which made Luke more confused than jealous. But as it escalated into more blunt compliments and pick-up lines, he could barely holding together. At first maybe he chewed on his cheek and pretended not to listen, then he started avoiding eye contact with either of them, and he currently grumbled or growled lowly at everything he said. He was a little relieved to see her sass him in response to his comments, though, his grip on the arm of the chair faltering slightly whenever she responded in a sarcastic way.

Until he had had enough.

"Smile is the second best thing you can do with your lips."

Luke clenched his jaw so hard it could have snapped clean. He struggled to control his angry, shaky breathing as he got up and grabbed Han's arm to pull him to another room.

"Okay, what the fuck, Han!?"

"What?" He said, trying his best to hide the smirk of satisfaction that threatened to creep up on his lips.

"Cut it out. You know I like her, why are you doing this?!" He snapped.

"Maybe I recently saw the light," he shrugged. "Look, you're clearly nowhere close to making a move, so why shouldn't others take a shot?"

Luke opened his mouth to retort, and then closed it. He had a point. If he didn't do something about it, he was going to lose her. And he couldn't afford to lose her to Han. If she was going to end up with someone other than him, he'd prefer that she end up with Leia.

"Fine." He spat, storming out of the room.

He rushed to open a cupboard and grabbed a bottle of alcohol, chugging a questionable amount of it. "What are you doing?"

"I'm clearly not drunk enough to do this," he said, pulling away from the bottle. "Yum, mouthwash that burns."

Han bit back a laugh as Luke clumsily walked to Y/N and pulled her away to speak in private.

"Luke? What's going on?" She asked, not even pointing out his apparent intoxication.

"I can't- I can't do this anymore, Y/N!" He said and her brows furrowed with confusion. "I can't stand to see Han treat you like this so forgive me for going to such drastic measures to prove a point!"

"What are you-" she was cut off by Luke storming over and crashing his lips on hers with such force that she stumbled back. As his action registered in her brain, she melted into the heavenly sensation. She ran a hand through his blonde locks, earning a small gasp from him into the kiss.

As she pulled away, he chased her lips for a split second before slowly opening his eyes, half-lidded gaze shifting to the string of saliva still connecting them. "I'm sorry, I- it was a momentary lapse. But I like you. I like you a lot. And I can't stand the thought of you being with Han. And I just wanted to tell you before you make a choice."

"Oh, Luke..." she said, smiling brightly as she caressed his cheek lovingly. "I don't like Han. He's a great friend but all those pickup lines were scaring the living Force out of me."

He giggled softly, though his face dropped at her lack of response. "I... I get it." He said quietly, trying to avoid her gaze. "I'll leave you alone."

He turned around and walked to the door, shoulders slouched in defeat and she shook her head in fondness, grabbing his wrist to stop him. "Luke, you adorable, oblivious idiot."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled their noses together before giving him a softer, sweeter kiss. This time there was no desperation, no urge, no rush. Just the need to make him feel loved and make him see that she doesn't want anyone else but him.

"I, um-" he cleared his throat. "I liked that very much."

"I like you very much." She said, pecking his cheek repeatedly. He giggled like a little boy, blushing. "You seriously thought I'd pick anyone over you? And that the first person would be Han?"

"No, I thought the first person would be Leia," he said and Y/N laughed loudly. "But, yeah, pretty much."

"Normally I'd say that's not true but Leia is gorgeous," she joked and Luke laughed softly, proud to have made her laugh. "And by the way, the list goes you, Leia, literally anyone in the world, and then Han."

He smiled at her, moved by the comment and amused by the joke, and brought her closer to him.

"Why am I after Leia?"

"Because she's so much hotter than you!" She defended.

"Thanks, Y/N!" The princess called, making Luke laugh and Y/N join in.

"You wound me, Y/N." Han said in mock offense.

"Are you guys together yet?" Leia asked, walking in. Luke wrapped an arm around Y/N's waist, smiling proudly as he pulled her closer. She smiled too, leaning her head on his shoulder. "You are?!"

They both nodded, happiness flooding every single inch of them.

"That's amazing! I'm so happy for you!" She said, hugging Y/N and pecking her cheek. "Took you long enough. The way you looked at her without doing anything was becoming very frustrating." She hugged Luke and ruffled his hair.

He rolled his eyes and turned to his new girlfriend, pressing their foreheads together.

"I'm glad I did."

[killxz]

Lost and Found

Pairing: Young Justice!Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

a/n: i've loved young justice since I was like 8 and i recently rewatched it again and i was disappointed that they didn't let dick or tim realise that jason was right there. so if i can't have it, imma make it. also, i've been writing on the web version of tumblr and i always make the text on my post small and i just realised that the small font on the app is miniscule 🤏🏻. so sorry to anyone who i may have given myopia to. TUMBLR STOP EATING MY DRAFTS! also don't forget to like or comment in your enjoyed! this takes place in season 3 episode 6 'Rescue Op'.

Conner broke down the door.

"This is why you don't go in unprepared." Dick mutters as you and the others rush into the prison cell. "Now, hold still." Brion and Forager grunts as Dick pulled out the control devices on the back of their necks.

"There you go, girl." Conner pats Sphere after he tore down the chains holding her in place. "You gotta figure the Shadows are on their way," You peered out of the door down the hall.

"Then let's go!" Dick orders, urging everyone out of the cell and down the dark hallway. You and the others ran down the winding paths in the dark, relying on Oracle's directions to escape the base. When Conner kicks down the final door, you see the so-called 'Sensei' some bald guy with Apokoliptian tech and a red-hooded ninja.

The group glared tensely at the trio, preparing for battle. Dick, ever the meditator, steps forward. "We just wanna leave," he says, hands up in a placating manner.

"Your trespass must be punished," Sensei declares, waving his glowing blue sword menacingly. You almost laughed. "Wrong answer." Conner growls as everyone kept into action. You faced off with the red-hooded ninja, blocking his katana slashes with your own. Somehow, this felt...familiar? It was like you fought with this person before. It almost felt like...

It's impossible, you told yourself firmly. He was dead. You just hadn't gotten over it yet. You got your head back in the game and started lashing out at the ninja with your own moves. With a clever strike, the ninja's katana clatter to the ground a few feet away. "Ha!" You exclaimed triumphantly. A bit too soon, perhaps. The ninja lunged towards you striking your blade out of your hand. You winced. "I guess we're doing this the old school way, then," you got into a defensive position. The ninja jumps towards you, aiming a punch which you blocked with your forearm, ignoring the sting that ran down your arm.

He then did something that made your blood run cold. He did a roundhouse kick , followed by a punch. Your mind was whirling. Bruce thought us that move...

Taking advantage of your distraction, he lunges towards you pinning you onto the ground under him. You yelp as your back hit the hard ground. Instinctively, you wrap your leg around his waist and rolled over, causing you to be onto of him. The ninja's hood and fallen off in your little tussle, showing a familiar head of messy black hair. You eyes widened.

It can't be... He's dead. Jason's dead.

"Jason?" You wavering voice whispered. The ninja flinched, his movements coming to an abrupt stop. With shaky hands, you reached for the mask covering his eyes, lifting it slowly. Beneath it, you see sickeningly familiar teal eyes. "Jason? B-but how? You're dead..."

"Enough." Ra's Al Ghul's voice echoed in the garden, causing all the fights happening to stop. Jason snatched the mask from your hand and put it back on, hooking his legs around yours and flipped you over, causing you to crash against the ground. Jason got off you and went to stand by his apparent master's side, leaving you shell-shocked on the ground, trying to process what had just happened. Dick rushed to your side. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He asked worriedly.

You could only shake your head wordlessly, your mind still too shocked to come up with coherent words.

"Well, young man, are you proud of this little debacle?" Ra's Al Ghul smirked. "I believe the detective will be quite disappointed." He glanced at Dick. Dick growled in response. "I assume you came to recover these children?" Ra's continued. "Take them and go."

"Not without my sister, Tara Markov!" Brion bellows. You smack a hand to your head. Seriously, this man has more anger issues than Conner when you, Dick, Wally and Kaldur first rescued him from Cadmus. "We know the League of Shadows has her!" He continues.

You zoned out for the rest of the conversation, your eyes locking onto somehow-resurrected Jason's form. As if he could feel your gaze on him, his head turned to your direction before turning away again.

As Ra's Al Ghul and the others engaged in a tense discussion about Tara Markov, your mind couldn't escape the overwhelming shock of seeing Jason once again. He was supposed to be dead, lost to the relentless grip of the Joker, and yet here he stood, seemingly loyal to the League of Shadows. The flood of emotions and memories rushed over you like a tidal wave.

Flashbacks of your time with Jason during his Robin days, his cheeky smile, his reckless enthusiasm, the secret, sweet moments you both shared, and the unwavering loyalty he showed to his comrades filled your mind. The pain of losing him all over again was too much to bear.

As the conversation with Ra's Al Ghul continued, you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of hopelessness. You had come to rescue Brion and the others, but now your heart ached for something else entirely. The prospect of reconciling with Jason, the possibility of bringing him back to your side again, seemed like an unattainable dream.

"Get out." the annoyed voice of Ra's snapped you out of your thoughts. As the others group together to get their bearings before they leave, you made your way to Jason, tugging on his arm to face you. "Jason..." Your voice was quiet, broken.

"Ah, it seems like you have found out who he is," Ra's chuckled. Anger rose within you as you whipped towards him. "What did you do to Jason?!"

He chuckled again, unbothered by your outburst. "Nothing, in fact, I have done you and your little Bat family a favor."

"By brainwashing him?!"

"He's not brainwashed, he's just...learning right from the beginning." Ra's shrugged.

You scoffed. "And that's supposed to be better?!" You stepped forward angrily, ready to bash in his skull. Jason grabbed your arm and shook his head silently. He tugged you away from the crowd and came to a stop behind the trees out of everyone's sight.

He took off his eye and face mask, leaving his face bare for you to see. He whispered your name, something that you have not heard in a long time, something that you used to desperately wish you would hear again. "Look," He begins. "I'm fine, okay? I'm perfectly fine-" You tug him into a fierce hug, squeezing tightly.

"You're not okay," You sniffle. "I missd you, so much..." Jason hesitantly wrapped his hands around your considerably shorter frame, squeezing lightly. "I-I missed you too," He mumbled, burying his face in your hair and pressing a kiss on the crown of your head.

You pull away, looking up at him. "Do...you think that things can go back to they once were?" You asked quietly. "There was something I didn't get to tell you, before...you died. I-"

Jason cuts you off by grabbing your chin and pulling you into a kiss. It was a tentative, cautious one, his lips as light as butterfly wings. He was waiting for you to take the initiative. You pressd your lips against his, hand snaking up to grab at the hai at the base of his neck, cuasing him to groan softly. His hands snake around your waist as he tugged you closer to him, your bodies flushed against each other,

In that moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, and the only thing that mattered was the connection you had with Jason. It was a connection that had never truly broken, no matter how much time had passed.

As the tension built between you, Jason's lips met yours in a hesitant, tender kiss. It was a kiss that held a confession of emotions too strong to be expressed in words – love, regret, longing, and the hope for a second chance.

When the kiss finally broke, you both pulled away, but your eyes remained locked onto each other's. It was a silent acknowledgment of what had just transpired – a rekindling of a connection that had been lost in the chaos of life as a vigiante.

Jason's voice was soft as he spoke, "I never thought I'd see you again."

You smiled, tears glistening in your eyes, and replied, "I never thought I'd see you again either, but I'm glad I did."

The moment was broken by Dick calling out your name. "Where are you? We gotta go!" You looked back at Jason, placing a hand on his cheek. "I'll come back for you," You whispered. "I promise."

Jason gives you a slight nod. "I'll be waiting. I...love you."

You kiss his cheek, stepping back. "I love you too, so much." You push the branchs of the tree aside, half stepping out into the light. "'I'll see you soon."

a/n: part 2? ;)

[johannestevans]

Woe, Boypussy Be Upon Ye: Transing Characters in Fanfic & Fanart

What’s the deal with envisioning your blorbos as transgender?

Originally published in Prism & Pen. Also on my Patreon.

It’s a meme, I made it. Here it is.

It’s been unbelievably positive for me as a trans dude, the change in approach to trans characters in fandom and subsequently in media in general, and I just wanted to write a bit about my experiences with the cultural shift and how positive it’s been for me personally.

What’s weird about people in fandom confidently, nay casually, writing characters as transgender and just having them be a regular dude with a pussy or a regular girl with a dick is that like… I remember when it wasn’t a thing.

Back in 2009, for example, which was a big time for fandom — Superwholock was running rampant, Star Trek (2009) had just gotten a new generation of fans into Trek — or even in 2012, when Les Misérables (2012) had dropped and gotten new people into Les Mis, or when the Hobbit had revamped a lot of interest in Tolkien’s books and the original Lord of the Rings films, not to mention The Hobbit itself, none of this even getting into the Marvel movies, like…

It just. It wasn’t a thing.

Sure, there were transgender characters around, characters that people wrote as trans, but I remember it so strongly as being very niche. It was deep, emotional work where people had to work to “justify” the emotional work they were doing, and even then, they couldn’t just say a character was trans and be chill about it. In order to justify a character being transgender, one had to put in mountains of evidence, or admit the trans perspective was a genderbend of sorts.

For me, I’m pretty sure the moment when things started to change was when I was reading and writing a lot of Loki-centred fanfiction, roundabout 2014–2017 — and the more permissive culture was very much borne of Loki being seen as an exception.

Loki, of the Marvel film and comics, is an alien secretly kidnapped and adopted into the Odinson family, and is known to change his body and appearance frequently, including changing his apparent gender or expression.

He was, in the comic canon (not to mention the original Norse mythologies) quite genderfluid, after all, so even if you didn’t refer to him as explicitly transgender, you could explore him as being some variety of genderfluid, nonbinary, or intersex — as an alien, as a Jötnar as opposed to being AEsir like Thor or Odin, as a god.

But then things changed a bit more.

Welcome to Night Vale, a weird narrative horror podcast, started in 2012, and one thing you could rely on from a lot of fanfics is that people might have weird or alien or otherwise not-not cisgender but not entirely cisgender genitals either. The Magnus Archives, also a narrative horror podcast, started in 2016, and when I got into the fandom in roundabout 2019, which is also when the new Good Omens TV show was due to release and there was a resurgence of interest in the book as well, I remember experiencing a sort of newfound thing where like…

I’d had a mental block around writing many trans characters, before — I could create my own characters who were trans, but a big part of me still felt like I wasn’t allowed to just make a canon character trans if they’d never been mentioned as being trans before or made explicitly trans.

What was it that stopped me?

My own dysphoria? Perhaps a little. Maybe some lacking self-confidence.

Most of all, it just felt as though I couldn’t justify it. I couldn’t justify seeing a cis man written by cis people in a cis show and saying, “Hey, no, he’s like me, actually” — even though I could easily do it about the same character being gay or Jewish or even chronically ill or disabled.

It was like there was a mental block inside me I just couldn’t get past.

I still had a lot of the old online cultural expectations stamped onto me, I think, even being an out trans man who knew many many other trans and intersex and nonbinary people of every gender imaginable in fandom.

I think for Welcome to Night Vale and then especially for The Magnus Archives, part of what made it so easy for people to write and envisage different characters as trans, the fact that there was such limited physical description of characters, the fact that you were attached to them by their voices alone, allowed people to envisage them in whatever way they liked.

In The Magnus Archives, most of the main characters are envisaged as trans in one way or another — Daisy Tonner particularly is explored with all flavours of butch dykey complexity, trans in whichever ways or directions are juiciest and most interesting. But for so many of the characters — from Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood to Sasha James and Tim Stoker to Elias Bouchard to Peter Lukas to any of the other Entities — there is no end to the characters people will explore or envisage as trans or nonbinary or just straight-up outside of gender or gender-weird.

No one has to justify a period character being trans with no problems. Loads of people write Izzy Hands or Stede Bonnet or Edward Teach, as being trans in Our Flag Means Death alongside the canonic nonbinary character Jim Jimenez. Any and all characters, trans or otherwise, are invited to participate in ye olde top surgery performed by Roach, the ship’s surgeon, or somehow get hold of ye olde hormones in whatever handwavy way necessary, and it’s cool and fine.

And what’s wonderful for me is the way I see the current approach to trans characters gleefully and delightedly applied to fandoms that are years if not decades old.

I see people write House MD fanfic now where they just go, right from the beginning, yeah this or that character is trans, and they’ve always been trans, and it’s chill. What if James Wilson was trans? It’d rock, that’s what. What if Greg House was trans? Yeah, he’d probably do his own T-shots under the table.

People write Spock as trans now, or guys from M*A*S*H, or Jean Valjean.

What if in the X-Files Dana Scully and Fox Mulder were T4T? Makes complete sense, and also, the idea fucks absolutely. They’re already so lesbian vibes for each other, it fits perfectly.

I wrote a silly little Tumblr post a few weeks ago envisioning Morticia and Gomez Addams as T4T, and it blew up immediately — I think about how if I’d made that most a decade ago it would have been met with crickets, if not a bit of scorn, and not just from transphobes, but just people who like me at that time hadn’t been able to relax and have fun with it.

That’s the real crux of the matter, the impact a lot of fandom has made on me and the way that trans characterisation is approached, the hunger I have for trans characterisation now — it’s the idea of being trans as joyful and delightful, as inherently fun and sexy, but also just as being something every day and normal. A detail you can include as casually in your interpretation of a canon character as any other headcanon.

There’s a beautiful freedom in it, and I’m so grateful to have been able to learn from and grow because of other trans people paving the way with their confident headcanons and delving into trans ideas in their fic.

It’s done wonders for me everywhere — not just in my fanfic, but most of all in the original works I pen now, each one of them featuring trans character after trans character.

[milllersfae]

𓆉✩°｡ ⋆ rockstar in 616 I rockstar!ellie williams

word count: 929 I warnings: fem!reader, fluff (very tame this time!) I summary: 'it was hard not to be interested. the long empty apartment across from yours had been tenant-less since your arrival, a soulless room that had been that way long before you knew. the first sign of life to re-emerge had been her.'

a/n: i am so sorry for the sudden hiatus! i had writers block and spent some time drumming this up. this is my first attempt at a series fic, so if it flops i deserve it 100%. enjoyyy <3

it wasn't a bad first spot.

the thought crossed your mind as you unlocked the door to your apartment. it wasn't as roomy as you'd like, but it was home; as it had been for the last 3 years.

your life was a little less than mundane. your wages relied on keep others dogs from running into the street, your social life was hopelessly still, and your mind was thinning at the seams. it wasn't awful, but it was empty. unwavering.

you turned on the stove, preparing your late dinner for the night. your routine was consistent; a gentle crutch that helped you stay awake and ready. you threw refrigerated pasta into a pan, heating the meal with a stir before emptying it on a paper plate. your raise the food close to your lips with a slurp before eyeing the trash that had now began to overflow. you put it down back on the counter and retrieve the bag from the metal tin. you muscled up your bit of strength and thrown the trash over your shoulder.

the spoiling smell left your nose as you left the bag outside and headed back to the front door. you sauntered back inside, making your way to the elevator to return to your floor. there the finger pressed the floor button before your hand fully had reached for it yourself.

she stood, brown leather-down jacket silhouetting her figure. rings curved around her fingers as they danced a nervous tic, waiting for the doors to part.

she enraptured you, eyes fixated on the rigid corners of her profile just before the green flicker of her gaze had smoothed across your face. you looked down at your phone as a subtle distraction as the elevator came to a stop, opening for your arrival.

the two of you step in simultaneously, finding you spot to stand as you enter. you froze, even as you were closer to the set of buttons that numbered your floor. you couldn’t find the words to mutter up to ask her where her stop was. in the corner of your eye, she stood slightly awry, before parting her lips to ask herself.

“which floor?” she said, warm pool of the rasp of her voice easing into your ears.

“8, please.” the words fumbled out of mouth, even long after they were prepared in your head.

she nods and puts a curved knuckle at the floor button, a staunch grin appearing on her face. she shoved her hands in her pockets and looked back at you.

“great. that’s my floor too.”

it was hard not to be interested. the long empty apartment across from yours had been tenant-less since your arrival, a soulless room that had been that way long before you knew. the first sign of life to re-emerge had been her.

there was little time to hyper focus on the thought though, as your phone buzzed with a new dog to sit for tomorrow. you accepted, and finished your now sullen food before slumping onto your cramped couch. you nodded off to sleep, mind anchoring back to that damn face you couldn't get your mind off of.

-

you woke up with a startle, instantly checking your clock for the time.

you had done it again, late to sit some poor pup you appointed yourself to watch. you rushed yourself into the shower and into day-old clothes. you dusted yourself off the night before and pulled up the address to your destination.

less than a mile away.

better yet, across the hall.

no fucking way.

you exit the front door, the identical frame mirroring you in the hallway. you felt your heart beat out of your chest as made a gentle knock against the wood.

there was that familiar eye in the peephole as it appeared and then left as the door opened with a pull.

she had been just as surprised as you had been, eyebrows raised in curiosity. your voice had ceased, and the air had filled again as her voice opened.

“my neighbor is my dog-sitter. sweet.”

your face flushed warm and hot as you gave a weak nod in response.

“i’m ellie, nice to meet you—in both ways.”

her hand stretched out to clasp yours, thick veins cascading against the dark ink of the tattoo on her wrist. you took in every distinct feature of her essence, wanting to keep learning. wanting to keep her there.

your introduction came out hasty, head spinning in a cloudy mist. you shook her hand, a flippant smile stretched across your face. it was hard to hide how silently enchanted you were.

a large dog butted his nose to the door, excited to meet the stranger that had been nosily making their appearance.

"there he is—this is comet, the little guy you'll be watching today." ellie relays, patting the fluffy head of the brown and black dog. ellie wrapped the leash around her palm, before sliding it off and handing it to you.

"i sadly have to get goin', but he's low maintenance, don't worry. my home is yours-have a drink, watch tv. i don't care. thank you so much for doing this on short notice." ellie rushed into hug you, the warmth of her body pressing into yours. the feeling nervously rushing through your body. you entered just as ellie left, and the door had locked with a click.

you stood in the middle of the vast living room of her apartment, a clammy film building on your hands.

the shit you get yourself into.

taglist | @zahraaziza @millersaurora @ccinnamongrl @ellabsprincess

want to be tagged? go under my masterlist and post reply below!

[fearyandear]

My Headcanons for Societyboy!

I tried giving him features the other boys didn't have, like eyes that are downcast and a hooked nose. I also gave him adult braces because I thought it was a cute mental image to have this angry douchebag arguing over people and getting self-conscious when you stare at his teeth and laugh. He had pretty black hair that he thought was too boring to get your attention again, so he tried bleaching and coloring it himself, ending up with this. He doesn't take care of it, his hair is a mess aah. Also, he's self conscious of Quest because he has a skinny little body and that man is 😳

I have a bit of writing on him that I'm not sure I'll actually get to finish, but my take on our ex is:

He's an egocentric loser we confessed to first at the end of junior year of high school. He accepted because it meant he had bragging rights over his other friends. You stay together through senior year, the excuse of you both being busy trying to get into college truimphed over any actual intimacy taking place (most of your dates were just you watching him play a game in his room or studying).

Finally it was over, you both got accepted into the same college, graduated, and over the summer, you both prepped to move into your dorms (seperate). As the first year went on, you both made separate friend groups. Slowly, he started feeling uneasy. He realized there was a good chance you might leave him with so many new people in your life, and so much time spent apart; to combat this, he kept insisting on you following him to his hang outs, or staying over at his dorm instead.

You didn’t mind him becoming clingy at first; he had always felt very independent from youbin highschool, and he wouldn't care about stuff like cuddling and holding hands together before. This was nice.

But it only got worse as the years trickled by, and he became very demanding. You were slowly becoming an island, unable to hold friendships without upsetting him, relying on him, and being left behind anywahs when he spent his time with his own group. You graduated, and lasted a few months living together before you finally snapped and broke things off.

He was furious. He didn't think he did anything wrong and thought the progression of things was just how relationships were meant to be. He convinced himself that you were only throwing a hissy fit, and you'd come back. When it wasn't happening as immediately as he wanted, he started stalking you online, unable to comprehend how you could live without him.

When you'd post good things about your new life, vitriol overtook him and he started commenting shitty things, making his own posts, insulting you and hating you and still, expecting you to one day wake up and come knocking back.

But you wouldn't.

And it's been over a year already. He's still alone, blocked on all your accounts (though he got new socials to keep looking at you), in the same apartment (despite being offered to move somewhere cheaper because you might come looking for him), and still thinking of you daily. He didn't want to allow himself to feel it, but he's sad.

He misses you so much. He misses sleeping by you, misses hearing you talk about your hobbies, misses your cooking, your voice, your hugs and kisses, all the ways you made him feel special and not like the sad sack of shit he really was. It's time he finally owned up to his mistakes, internalize how he fucked up your life, and actually try to get better at being more thoughtful of you. He still thinks it's you he has to end up with, somehow, in some way.

As he browsed through your social media again, that's how he found the link you surely clicked on. It's somewhere neither you nor him have ever made an account on. That means he's not blocked there! His heart beat fast as he copied it but didn't click it yet; he had to calm down. This had to be like, the universe affirming him, right? Throwing him another chance to see you again. He wanted to make it count. But he was... anxious, too, after so long. He had to wait to buy and take a few edibles before he finally resigned himself to what would come next. He'd win you back. He joined the server.

(Then, enters Societyboy's Route. Not Quest's, this one would be similar but different.)

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Perversion

@turbulentscrawl triple dog dared me so heres tht thing i wasnt gonna write bvfbfvbihv im so sorry if this ooc lol

Photographer pls why u gotta call him "little gray mouse" pls im not normal now

Rated Explicit | Warnings: none

You never asked for more than what is willingly being given, you are content– Happy with what you have for easily you can have nothing at all. Being with Aesop means not always having the ‘standard’ relationship. Often you are doing most of the work, putting all that you have into this, supportive of this. You usually feel bad thinking you are pressuring the man to stay with you, maybe he thinks he has to out of pity.

Though he will reassure you he never felt pressed to stay, he is willing, and he loves you.

Intimacy, Ada says, is a key part of keeping a relationship stable. Sex is healthy and given the situation of this place and the high stresses, she says sex often can strengthen a bond. You… You like cuddling but sex? It never crossed your mind. It took a while for Aesop to get used to your physical affection, even laying on the same bed as you was awkward at first.

Maybe Dr. Ada is right. Maybe you bring it up… How do you bring this up!? She sympathizes with you before explaining to bring it up naturally.

That is why currently you stand beside the Embalmer as he restocks his embalming supplies.

“Would you have sex with me?” So you suck at naturally bringing up things.

Aesop dropped his bottle.

“Aesop!” You quickly pick up the bottle, luckily it was only one of the makeup bottles, “Are you okay?” Not too much spilled out.

“Are you?” Trying to gather his thoughts, “Why would you ask that?” He thinks something is wrong.

“Yeah, I mean… Dr. Ada said “To strengthen a relationship, sex helps”.”

He blinks a few times, you rely on his eyes to read his expressions as he always wears a mask, “Oh.” He had faced you but he turned back to his supplies, “No.”

“Oh, okay.” You go back to watching him work.

“It is not because of you,” Wording this as best as possible, “I don't like… That.”

“That?”

Aesop is quiet for a second then tries to explain, “It is… Dirty.”

“Dirty as a sin or the process.”

“Yes, no, the process.”

You make an ‘oh’ sound before a laugh, “Okay, nothing wrong with that! I know skin-on-skin contact is hard for you. Heh, I got scared it was because— Huh!?” His gloved hands hold your face, “Aesop.” His mask touches your lips as he kisses you, and you return the kiss.

His forehead is on yours as he speaks gently, “You are beautiful.” His eyes are on your face.

You hum softly, closing your eyes, “Sorry.” Your hands on his shoulders squeezing it as he kisses you again, “May I hold you like this.” Whispering the request. You might have unintentionally had negative thoughts, Dr. Ada warned you a rejection can bring up underlying feelings.

“Of course.”

You do not know what shifted after that day.

Aesop is a sweet lover, he has needs that are different from yours, but he often puts you first. When you need intimate affection like cuddles that require the bed, he gives you that time. But lately, he is trying the skin-on-skin contact in little ways. Kissing more often as his lips rather than the mask, he uses his bare hand to touch your face (one glove on though), and he is one asking for those cuddle times.

“No,” Blocking his kiss with your fan, “Aesop, you don't have to make up for anything.” The single glove on was a sign that something was off. Masklessly kissing you on the lip does happen just not always, he has sensory issues and you respect that. Plus, kissing his mask is cute especially when your rogue marks it.

“I– I am not,” You close the fan with one hand revealing your little frown, “I wanted to touch you… Properly.”

“You can at any time you want, love. But don't force it.”

He leans back nodding as he adjusts his mask back to his face, “May kiss you again?”

You smile before jumping on him a bit to kiss him a dozen times.

Naturally, you expected things to go back to normal, the subject was not brought about sex until much later.

When Joseph became involved.

There is a word for this Joesph said while speaking with you, ‘A ménage à trois’. The word sounds so sweet and smooth like silk from his mouth. Something he says with a hint of something you now realize is seduction.

Maybe the Photographer gave Embalmer this idea for there is no way he came up with this himself. Hell, you never knew they were friends—Ish, they seem to tolerate each other more than others.

As Aesop undresses you, you feel Joseph touch the newly revealed skin as soon the only thing you have on is your underwear.

“Cold?” His voice is low as his finger traces around your shifting nipple. You nod, unable to trust your voice, Aesop's hands hold your waist as Joseph’s lips take the nipple into his mouth, the Photographer's other hand teasing the other. You are grateful to lean against your lover, his mask pressed against your cheek as you quiver. “You will warm up in a moment.” You never realize how pretty the Frenchman looks, most of the time he terrifies you but right now he looks so pretty.

The foreplay is overwhelming, two pairs of hands, one with medical gloves on and the other bare but cold, makes you dizzy.

When you finally are on the bed, writhing as you grip Joseph’s unbound hair as feasts on you between your legs, Aesop removes his mask to kiss you. With every moan stolen by him, you were surprised he wanted to taste you. He tastes like mint, and you taste like that wine Joseph offered prior to this event. Calm the nerves barely.

Something in French is said and you whine as Joseph pulls away. Not for long as slips his cock into your well-prepared heat.

“Look at me.” You fight to keep your eyes open as Aesop holds you, “You are doing so well.” Caressing your cheek.

“They are tighter than I expected.” Joseph says after cursing under his breath, “Relax.” You try but you feel so full. Aesop looks at the way you squirm, his hand moving to your body but unsure where to touch first. “Here, rub lightly.” Joseph guiding Aesop's hand between your legs.

He can't directly feel the sticky substance of your essence but he can feel the warmth, the moan you let out has his cheeks burning brighter than it already is. It is very strange, the texture thick and the substance cloudy.

“Feeling brave enough to taste it, little gray mouse?”

Aesop shakes his head and rather sticks with kissing you.

“Aseop…” You moan out, “Ah.” This is so much yet not enough all at once. “Joseph!” Confused as he grazes something inside of you that has you seeing stars, “There! Please, please!” One hand on Joseph’s arm and the other holding Aesop's hand.

All night you had Joseph inside of you, touching you. All night, Aesop is there exploring you when he feels comfortable and always kissing you. The arrangement is, well, you would not mind doing it again.

[roosterforme]

The Deployment Diaries Part 21 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: For Bradley, time heals all wounds. Having the right partner seems to help as well.

Warnings: Smut, angst, fluff and swearing

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! Check my masterlist for the reading order!

Bradley was bored out of his mind. After a few days at home with him, you had to return to work. He knew you couldn't take several weeks off to spend with him while he healed, but he could barely go anywhere, and he wasn't allowed to work out. He even had to rely on you to take him to physical therapy after work. 

You were so cute when you watched him do his exercises with the physical therapist. You cheered him on from the row of folding chairs, and you learned all of the exercises to be able help him at home. You started to walk around the block with him and Tramp after dinner each night, only going a short distance until his ribs healed completely. And you made him meals and helped him shower.

When you went to work every day, he did everything he was supposed to do. He alternated heat and ice on his ribs. He kept his arm elevated. He drank plenty of water and took all of his medications. But he also binge watched Real Housewives of Beverly Hills like his life depended on it. 

As soon as you pulled out of the driveway, he got cozy on the couch next to Tramp with a snack and a cup of tea. "Time to start season three, buddy," Bradley said, patting the snoozing dog on the head. "Let's see what kind of shit Kyle and Lisa are getting up to today. We'll just watch one episode."

He couldn't look away from the drama. "I can't believe she said that! Wow, she's got a lot of nerve!" Bradley said, eating the lunch you left for him. After that he fell asleep on the couch, and you woke him when you got home. 

"Roo, it's time for physical therapy. Trashy TV hour is over," you told him with a smirk. Then Bradley proceeded to fill you in on the episodes while you drove.

But Bradley had been home for more than a week, and he still hadn't been medically cleared to fuck you or ask you to marry him. He kept trying to be helpful, but every time you caught him carrying anything that weighed more than ten pounds, you had a fit. 

"Put the laundry basket down, or I swear I will tie you up!" you yelled. 

Bradley grinned. "How about I put the laundry basket down right now if you promise to time me up?"

You stomped over to him and took the basket from his hands. "I should have known that threat wouldn't work. How about if you promise to be a good boy and follow the rules, I'll tie you up once your arm is fully healed?"

"I'll be so good," he quickly promised, giving you a kiss. "Maybe you could give me a little reward now?"

You set the laundry basket down on the kitchen island and guided him to sit on the couch. You stood between his legs and he looked up at you with so much love in his eyes. "You want me to warm you?"

Bradley nodded his head, and you immediately got undressed. He was already hard, but he was having a bit of a rough day with his rib pain. He knew you would be gentle though, and as you guided his underwear down his thighs and straddled his lap, he already felt a lot better.

"You just relax," you whispered as he tipped his head back against the couch. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his dick being squeezed by your silky warmth. He didn't move as you took his full length into your pussy with a little gasp. He just rubbed your thighs and let you kiss his rough looking face as you warmed his cock.

"That's better," you told him, caressing and kissing him for a long time, allowing him to calm his breathing until his ribs were almost pain free. "And now you'll be a good boy and not overexert yourself again, right?"

"Of course, Sweetheart."

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

But it was harder than he could have imagined to go from constant activity and movement, to essentially nothing. And the reality TV binge only kept his attention while you were at work. He started thinking about how many workouts he was missing. It would take him forever to get back in shape after this. He was already losing his abs, which he would definitely consider his best feature. So he waited and tortured himself for a few more days until you drove him to see his doctor again. 

"You think you'll get any stitches removed today?" you asked him while you drove through the rain in his Bronco. San Diego traffic was always a fucking nightmare on the rare occasions when it stormed. 

"That would be nice," he answered, examining his left arm. "These things are itchy as hell now. But my first question for the doctor is whether or not I'm medically cleared to make love to my girlfriend yet."

You squeaked and bit your lip as you drove. "I hope the answer is yes," you whispered.

Bradley was planning on telling you the doctor said yes, even if they didn't. "The countless blowjobs have been a real treat, and as much as I love fingering you, I want you riding my dick like my life depends on it."

"Can't wait for that," you whispered, navigating through the rainy parking lot and stopping near the doors of the medical building. "I'll meet you inside, Roo." 

Bradley kissed you before climbing out of the Bronco and heading in. He sat still while the doctor removed the stitches from some of his lacerations that weren't as deep as the others. His skin was scarred, rough and pink without the stitches, but it already felt so much better. 

The doctor poked around in his ribs and squeezed his arm, and Bradley knew he was healing because he didn't want to scream. He was told his bruising was getting much better as well.

And when he asked, "Listen, I'm feeling much better. So where do I stand on having sex and driving?"

The doctor laughed and cleared him for sex, as long as he was careful, but not driving. The combination of medications he was taking were still too much for another week or so. Bradley strode out to find you in the waiting room reading a magazine, and just the sight of you was enough to get him going. 

"Baby Girl, let's go," he said, and your eyes snapped up to meet his.

"What did they tell you?" you asked, walking hand in hand back out into the rainy evening. "Looks like you got some of the stitches removed," you said, tracing his scarred arm with your gentle fingers. He grunted in response as you popped open a huge umbrella and guided him toward the parked Bronco. But when you reached for the passenger door to help him get in, he shook his head and opened the back door instead. 

"Hop in there, Sweetheart. I'm allowed to get my world rocked by you."

You laughed and looked up at him underneath the umbrella. "Right here? A quickie in the parking lot?" you asked softly, but your smile let him know you wanted it too.

Bradley kissed you and hummed, "Mmhmm," before playfully swatting at your ass as you climbed up into the backseat. You turned back to help him hoist himself up as well, and Bradley said, "Maybe we don't have to be too quick. It's getting dark, and the rain makes it difficult to see inside."

But you didn't need any coaxing. You already had your shirt off when he pulled the door closed. Bradley unhooked your bra and let it fall to the seat next to him as you shimmied out of your shorts and underwear. And very gently, you unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and pulled them low enough to let his dick bounce free. 

You bit your lip and looked at him as he stroked your nipple and pulled you onto his lap. "You have to tell me if I'm hurting you at all," you said, and he promised he would. But your gentle fingers in his hair as you took him inch by inch inside your pussy had him moaning. It felt so good. 

"Just go slow, and I'll be fine," he groaned as you rocked back and forth, riding him while his mouth was all over your tits. Your back was arched, and Bradley wrapped his hands around your ribs to keep you in place, stroking the enticing skin below your breasts with his thumbs. "You're so fucking sexy," he told you, letting one hand trail down your soft belly until he reached your clit. 

Bradley watched, entranced, as you ground yourself against his hand and rode him with a repetitive snap of your hips that made your breasts bounce for him. Soon you were moaning his name and clamping around him, and he was getting close too. 

"Roo," you whined, grabbing him by the hair as you came. And then suddenly Bradley had slipped out of you as you knelt down on the floor in front of him. "The upholstery," you whispered, wrapping your lips around him with a hard suck before popping him out again. "Don't want to mess it up."

Then you sucked him off while he played with your hair and stroked your cheeks. "Love how you always protect the Bronco, Baby Girl."

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

When you got home on Wednesday, Bradley was moping around the house. He barely said anything to you when you told him you were going to make him Marry Me Rooster for dinner.

"What's wrong?" you asked cautiously, but he just shook his head and clipped Tramp's leash on. "You should be wearing your sling if you're going out, Bradley," you reminded him, but he closed the door instead of responding to you. 

"Lovely," you muttered to yourself as you queued up one of your favorite playlists and started making dinner. But the further into the recipe you got, the angrier you became. 

How dare he storm out of the house like that, ignoring what you said about the sling. He hadn't said anything to you when you walked in. Hadn't given you a kiss. Nothing. 

"He doesn't even deserve this," you told nobody, gesturing wildly at the nearly completed dinner. You'd made a mess of the kitchen and now you'd have to clean it up. If he was going to act like a complete shit, you could have stayed at work longer, gotten more done. 

When everything was finished, and he still hadn't returned, you made him a plate of food, set it on the dining room table and glared at it. Then you went back into the kitchen and ate several forkfuls directly out of the pan before eating a twinkie and getting the bathtub ready for yourself. As the tub filled, you went to find his sling, and you left that on the dining room chair too. Then you stormed into the bathroom and climbed in the tub. 

When you heard the front door close, you leaned back against the tub and closed your eyes. Within seconds, Bradley was opening the bathroom door, and you did not want to talk to him. 

"Baby Girl?" he asked cautiously. 

"What?" you snapped, keeping your eyes closed. 

"I'm sorry."

You cracked one eye open. "What are you sorry about?" you asked, and when you opened your eyes, you saw he was wearing his sling. 

"You made me my favorite dinner, and I was frustrated and ignored you. I'm sorry."

"Will you just tell me what's wrong?" you asked, shifting in the tub. Bradley's eyes immediately dipped down to your chest and he licked his lips. You were annoyed by your immediate response to him looking at your breasts. You squeezed your thighs together to keep yourself from inviting him to kiss you. 

He ran his hands through his hair and knelt on the bath mat right in front of you. "I am so bored, and I can't drive anywhere, and the medication makes me exhausted. I'm sick of relying on you to do everything for me."

You opened your mouth to speak, but Bradley quickly kissed you and said, "You're perfect, and you're the best nurse I could ask for. But I just want to be able to get back to work. Feel fucking useful again."

And you lost all of the anger you felt earlier. "Roo," you whispered, running your wet fingers along his cheek. "If you rush things, you'll stop progressing. Then it could be even more time before you return to work."

"I know, I know. I'm just... I can barely cut up my own food!"

You kissed his lips softly and rubbed your nose along his mustache. "That's what I'm here for. I'm going to take care of you. I just hate that you ignored me when I got home."

He wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and kissed you hard. "I love my nurse. How can I get back in her good graces?"

You pouted at him. "You just have to be sweet again."

"I'll be very sweet," he promised. "Please make a fuss over me again.

You grinned at him and started to climb out of the tub. Bradley groaned as you reached for a towel and started to dry off. "Maybe you wouldn't mind being taken care of if I made it more fun for you?"

Bradley's eyes flashed. "What do you have in mind?" he whispered.

"Go eat your dinner, and I'll call you when I'm ready."

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

Bradley sat down at the table and ate his dinner alone. He hadn't meant to be so awful to you. It was uncalled for. You were perfect. Literally nursing him back to health while working full-time and doing everything else you always did. You didn't need his bullshit. You deserved a fucking vacation. 

"Are you done eating?" you called from the bedroom. Bradley was trying to clean up the kitchen using one hand. 

"Yeah, Sweetheart."

"Your nurse is ready to see you now," you called in a flirty, singsong voice that had the little hairs on the back of Bradley's neck standing at attention. His hopeful cock throbbed a bit as he rushed into the bedroom. 

"Fuck," he gasped, struggling to keep from just pushing you down on the bed. You were wearing his plain white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The top three buttons were open, and he could tell you weren't wearing a bra. You had on sheer white socks that ended just above your knees, and you'd folded a piece of paper into a nurse's hat. 

"Hi, I'll be your nurse for this evening," you told him with a grin that let him know how much fun he was about to have. "But in order to tell what's wrong with you, I'm going to have to give you a thorough examination."

"Oh, please do," Bradley groaned as you walked across the room to get him. You were wearing your nude colored high heels, and when you reached him, he could see directly down the shirt. He was already dying to wrap your necklace around his fingers.

"Come here," you said sweetly, taking his hand in yours and leading him toward the bed. You carefully removed his sling for him. Then you turned your back to him and rubbed your ass all along the front of his jeans. "I'll just turn around like this while you get fully undressed for your exam."

Bradley sighed and removed his clothing as quickly as he could. You glanced at him over your shoulder. "When you're done, you can have a seat."

Bradley sat gingerly on the bed, and you turned toward him. You licked your lips when he spread his legs. His cock was hard and ready for you, but you rested both of your palms on his knees and kissed his lips softly. "Let me check your temperature," you whispered, running your palm gently across his forehead. "Uh oh, you feel a little warm to me."

Bradley grinned at the look of concern on your face. "That's terrible. Can you do anything to help me?"

You nodded solemnly. "You need ten kisses. And then I'll check you again."

Bradley moaned as you kissed him ten times, each kiss longer and than the last, each one with progressively more tongue. 

When you ran your fingers along his forehead again, you shook your head and sighed. "Still too warm. But I know what will help." Bradley watched you unbutton his white shirt, and then you wiggled your way up his leg until you were straddling his thigh. You took his hands and gently guided them until he was holding and caressing your breasts. Bradley squeezed your tits and watched you lick your lips, even gasping when he pinched your nipple. "Feeling better?" you moaned.

Bradley nodded as you wiggled and rubbed your pussy against his leg. "So much better," he confirmed. 

You tipped your head back, arching further into his hands, clearly enjoying yourself as well. "You know I would do anything to help my patients feel better," you whispered, sitting down on his thigh and running one finger along the length of his cock. "So why don't you lie back against the pillows, and I'll check every inch of your body."

Bradley bit his lip and nodded. "Whatever you think is best, nurse."

You helped him ease his sore body against the pillows. Bradley watched you straddle his hips, and then you slowly removed his white shirt. The sight of you in just your white socks and heels with the paper hat had his heart racing. He had the fleeting thought that his actual physicians would have never told him it was safe to have sex if they knew how hot you were in bed. Bradley felt like his heart was going to pound out of his chest.  

Then you proceeded to kiss and touch him everywhere. You paid extra special attention to his left arm, nuzzling and kissing everywhere that wasn't stitched. Your soft hands were so gentle along his torso, that he was begging for more. You kitten licked all around his dick before sucking on his balls until he felt like he was going to cum all over your pretty face. 

"Still not sure what's wrong," you whispered, tapping the corner of your mouth with your index finger. Then you straddled his waist so gingerly, you caused him no pain as you ran your fingertips softly back up along his body. You rubbed your pussy gently along his abs while you placed the most loving kisses across his forehead. Somehow your body was all over his, but you were so delicate. You kissed his lips and every inch of his face and neck as Bradley's hands came up to your ass. He guided you to press yourself a little harder against him, rub your pussy a little rougher. Now you were both breathing deeper, and Bradley was loving how much you were teasing him.

"I figured out what's wrong," you whispered in his ear before licking him. Bradley just moaned as you rubbed your tits along his chin. He pulled one of your nipples into his mouth and teased you with his tongue before you whimpered. "You just need a good fuck."

Bradley released you with a pop and hissed as you turned the other way on his body so that your back was to him. He held onto your ankles as you slipped him into your wet pussy and rode him reverse cowgirl. The way your ass bounced each time you had him fully seated had him shaking his head.

"How am I doing nurse? Getting better?" he managed to grunt. You turned and grinned at him over your shoulder, riding him a little harder. Your paper hat slid off your head and landed on the floor, but you kept riding him faster. 

"You're getting there, but you'll need to smack my ass a little bit first." Bradley did as he was told, getting rough with his right palm, digging into your flesh with his fingers. Your moaning had him coming inside you, one hand holding your high heel, one gripping your ass cheek. Then he watched you clean him up, licking all of the mixed cum from his softening cock. 

"I really do feel so much better, nurse," he told you as he tucked his right arm behind his head. "Any chance I can make another appointment with you? Get you to make another housecall?"

You giggled where your chin rested on his thigh, ass up in the air behind you. "You're so sexy, I'm sure I could make room in my schedule for you. I could always bump another patient."

He pretended to scowl. "Wait, how many other patients are you treating?"

"Just you, so far. Apparently I just got my nursing license today," you replied with a laugh. 

"Just book me solid in your schedule. No additional patients for you, nurse Baby Girl."

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

On Friday, you rushed out of work and hurried home to start on dinner. You were going to attempt to make crab cakes and filet mignon for a special celebration, but you wanted to surprise Bradley with it. 

So when Nat dropped him at home after physical therapy, and the meal was mostly ready, you were able to distract him for a few minutes. 

"Hi," you whispered against his lips as he held you just inside the front door. "How was therapy?" You ran your hands along his healing body and sighed, loving that you could use your hands a bit more now.

"Good," he murmured, kissing you deeply and tickling you with his mustache. "You seem really happy to see me. Wanna take a detour to the laundry room?"

You giggled as he nipped at your lips. "Actually, I'm going to send you and Tramp on a little walk so I can finish making dinner."

"What are we having? It smells good." He backed you up against the wall and let his fingers meet the skin just above your yoga pants. 

"Crab cakes and filet mignon, mashed potatoes and veggies. And I made brownies the other day and hid them from you."

He eyed you cautiously. "Fancy dinner tonight?"

"Yeah... oh, shit. Do I have the date wrong? I thought today was your mom's birthday. July eighteenth?" He had only mentioned it to you once. 

Bradley's face turned into the most lovesick thing you'd ever seen. His brown eyes looked like puddles of melted chocolate, and his lips parted into a half smile that made your heart pound. 

"Yeah, it's today, Sweetheart. I can't believe you remembered. You made a fancy dinner for her birthday?"

"Yes," you replied, happy you hadn't mixed up the dates. You were hoping to get your hands on some of the stuff from Bradley's storage unit, hoping to learn more about and connect more with his parents. You wanted to see all of the pictures and look through everything. 

"I love you," he said before pulling you against him. You were afraid you were going to smash his ribs, but he was unrelenting. He buried his face against your neck and kissed you as he said, "I wish they could have met you. My mom would have loved you so much." You let the tears sting your eyes as he held you, and when he let you go, he had tears in his eyes too. 

"I'll walk Tramp, Sweetheart. Thank you so much for making dinner."

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

Bradley was a wreck. He cried a little bit while he walked the dog, and it took him a while to gather his thoughts together. He had mentioned his parents' birthdays to you months ago. He knew when your parents' were, because he'd put them in his phone calendar, and you were also kind enough to remind him the day of so he could text them. 

But you'd made dinner for Carole, kind of. Or you'd at least made this day special so Bradley could hold on to his memories of his mom and celebrate her. With you. 

"Shit. Tramp, buddy. You think mommy and daddy should get married, right?" he asked the dog, getting a little tail wag in response. "Yeah, me too."

And the dinner was perfect. You mixed some of the pan drippings into Tramp's dog food before you sat on Bradley's lap. Between bites, he held you close and kissed your cheek. 

"What was your mom's favorite food?" you asked him softly before you took a bite of your crab cake. 

"Cotton candy," he replied with a smile. "She loved cotton candy so much, I could guarantee she'd take me to the carnival all the time as a kid, because she wanted the cotton candy." Bradley listened to you laugh, and he smiled. "She also loved French fries covered in cheese and gravy. Like so messy, you needed to eat them with a fork."

"What else did she like?" 

Bradley chewed up his steak and sat back in the chair. "Singing. She used to sing constantly, and I swear she knew the lyrics to every song ever recorded. She used to go line dancing with her cousins when I was old enough to stay by myself. And she used to like to set up little science experiments in the kitchen when I was a kid. It got me excited about school."

You burst into tears on his lap and flung your arms around his neck. "I love her so much, and I never even got to meet her."

Bradley held you and ran his fingers along your neck. "Mav once told me he wished he could say I was just like Goose, but I am actually more like her."

"She sounds amazing."

"She was."

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

Bradley took you to bed after dinner and made love to you for an hour. You told him to go slow, make sure he wasn't overdoing it with his injuries, but he needed you all over him. He needed to show you how much he loved you and how thankful he was to be with you. 

Then you took a shower with him, helping him keep his remaining stitches from getting too wet and then lovingly washing his hair for him. "I'd be lost without you, Sweetheart," he whispered. You shook your head and smiled but kept your eyes on his body. Bradley cradled your chin and bent down to make eye contact with you. "I'm serious. I wouldn't be healing this well on my own. You make sure I eat healthy meals and do my exercises. You take care of me."

You ran your fingers along his face, which was far less swollen and bruised now. You kissed his lips sweetly and said, "I just want to make sure you're healthy. And looking hot for your promotion ceremony."

You grinned obnoxiously, and Bradley shook his head. "You told me I'd look good in my dress whites even with the bruising."

"Roo, you'd look good in your dress whites in clown makeup."

His laughter filled the bathroom as you rinsed his hair. 

Bradley watched you put on his UVA shirt, and then he helped you brush your hair. He kissed and nipped the back of your neck, his lips meeting your necklace chain each time. 

"Come with me," he told you once you were both ready for bed. He took your hand in his and had you sit next to him on the piano bench. He showed you how to play the part of the song that he would have used his left hand for. After you practiced it a few times with him, he added his right hand, and together you played and sang a choppy rendition of Happy Birthday to Carole. 

And when he took you to bed, you were finally able to curl up on his chest for the first time in weeks. He'd be lost without you.

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

I hope you liked that sexy nurse scene. I did research for that!

PART 22

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[tunaababee]

Feysand drabbles/fics from the angst/fluff prompt list!

72. “You need sleep.” and/or

94. “I won’t lose you too.”

Please and thank you!💕

72. "You need sleep." thanks for this @asnowfern!! i just hope im doing these babies justice. im hoping i can get around to the second prompt sometime soon if the inspo strikes!!

if anyone wants to send others in, im more than happy to still take requests for it!!

There were always little constants in life that could be relied upon rain, hail or shine. Some a comfort - the way the stars constantly shined with the same fervour above Velaris, the beauty in the changing of seasons, the warmth from those she loved. Then there were the few that were nuisances.

Laundry. Taxes.

Or, in Feyre’s case, the debilitating bout of art block she couldn’t seem to shake.

She dragged her stool back from the canvas, the sound of wood scraping on wood feeling like it was rattling around in the depths of her skull as it echoed through the studio. Classes were on a small break, to give her and Ressina a breather and prepare for a particularly large batch of incoming students. It always warmed her heart with how quickly the people of the Rainbow had embraced their little studio and it brought her such quiet joy.

But right now, Feyre was just about ready to hurl a tube of paint at the canvas in the hopes that it’d shape up a bit better. This wasn’t feeling like the breather she had intended for at all.

She perched herself back onto the stool, arms resting upon her knees as she stared out the window behind her incomplete canvas. No matter how many walks she took or notes of inspiration she stowed away for later, nothing seemed to be sticking. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel like creating - if anything, that was half the problem. All she wanted to do was create but nothing her hands were making was sating the urge she felt in the pit of her stomach, gnawing at the back of her head.

Feyre stared at the canvas with a furrowed brow, deep in contemplation. Originally it had started out as a slightly more abstract portrait of Rhys, but when it wasn’t quite panning out she had started over and tried to angle for something more rooted in realism - a study of the cityscape from the view that the studio afforded her. But she wasn’t quite nailing the details, none of the satisfaction that typically surrounded the process. Back to the drawing board. Now, she didn’t even know what she was looking at. It was definitely abstract. But beyond that, she didn’t know. There was nothing speaking to her, no vision calling to her with even a rough idea of what it could turn out to be.

So she stepped across the room firmly, continuing to play with the colours in her palette and the brushstrokes on the canvas to see if she could salvage anything out of this little experiment.

The determination clouded her other senses, ignoring the waning moonlight and the small prickle on the back of her neck that would have told her that her beloved had quietly slipped into the room. Instead, she let out a small squeak as Rhysand’s arms slid around her waist, gently tugging her closer as he moved to rest his chin on her shoulder.

“Evening, darling.” Rhys quietly purred into her ear, a small smile breaking across Feyre’s face. She turned to press a kiss to his cheek, but he caught her lips with his before she could, gentle and soft.

“Evening to you too. What brings you to my humble little studio?” There was a quiet laugh in her words, her eyes turning back to the canvas even when she could feel his still firmly locked on her.

“Well, I had finally finished up all my dull paperwork for the night only to find our bed empty and my wonderful mate nowhere to be found. Obviously, I’m here to rectify the issue.”

Rhys’ hands moved to Feyre’s hips, his mouth trying to find purchase on her neck when she moved from his grip to put her palette and brush down near the canvas. Maybe if she could work in some of the same shade of purple Feyre could see in his eyes, this piece might start shaping up.

“You’re finished already? I’ve barely even made progress on this... thing. I don’t know what it is yet.” Feyre began to rifle through the paints they had to find the perfect shades to mix as she spoke. Rhysand barked a laugh, that signature smirk spreading across his perfect features. He slipped his hands into his pockets, merely watching his mate for a beat.

“Feyre darling, you’ve been here for quite a few hours now. It’s long past midnight.”

Feyre stopped in her tracks - she knew she had a tendency to get lost in her work, but had she really been stuck on this piece for that long? She immediately stopped what she was doing, hurriedly putting the paints back before crossing the room to the studio window. Leaning out of the window, she could definitely see the moon was past its peak in the sky. Before she could ruminate on it much further, Rhysand turned her around, sitting her on the windowsill before coming to stand between her legs. He rested his brow against hers, eyes boring into her with an intensity that she could never get enough of.

“I’m still stuck though, I need-”

“You need sleep.”

Feyre couldn’t help but huff slightly at him - he was right, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

“Maybe. But I do need to clean up first, at least.”

With a snap of his fingers, the canvas was leaned against the wall in an out of the way corner, stool tucked under a table, paints put away - everything righted without a second thought.

“And I need to have my mate with me in our bed, lest I go insane without her.” Rhys tugged her closer with a chuckle, chest pressed against hers. Any other day, an inexplicable heat that only he could ever elict would have bloomed in her chest and shot straight to her stomach. But tonight, they were simply exhausted and Feyre couldn’t help but melt into his arms, her own moving up to slide around his neck.

“Then take me home, Rhys.”

“Always my pleasure, darling.”

She kissed him again, firm and passionate, as he winnowed them back into the warmth of their home.

The next day, she had finished her piece - a painting of legs and arms tangled amongst each other, holding one another, tangled in inky black sheets.

[lavishl0ve]

Hiii I love your writing so much🫶🫶

What would Johnny think of the reader actually being obsessed with him like he brings another victim home and the reader goes crazy?

(Totally fine if u don't wanna do it tho🖤)

hii! tysm 🫶 Sorry I finished this request a bit late I hadn’t seen this til later 💔 (plus i’ve been a little busy). Besides that this request was superr fun to do so ty! 💋

⚠️ TW !!!

Background Information: As I wrote this I had imagined after you were forced into the Family you’d heavily rely on Johnny, to the point he’d drive you mad.

————————————————————————

The whirring of the old air conditioning reaps into my ears. I sprawl out on the couch waiting. Waiting for him. I’ve made this my daily ritual now, I can’t seem to break it either. How I wait for him each day. How I wait to hear a roar from the engine of his truck. Oh, how I long to see my Johnny. I can’t help but feel giddy when I think of him. His perfect face, his perfect teeth, his perfect voice. He’s soo perfect.

Oh how I adore my Johnny.

Staring at the ceiling fan I begin to feel my eyes cross. Couldn’t time pass faster? Then I heard that familiar engine. 27 minutes later than usual. I rise from the sunken sofa, standing by waiting for those thuds of his heavy boots. Their replaced with light taps. That wasn’t Johnny. I peer around the wall. A tan girl, her blonde hair illuminating those green eyes. She gives me a weak reassuring smile. I think it was more to reassure herself at least. I watch Johnny’s broad frame step behind her. She cuts her sentence short, startled by that thud. That thud I wait for everyday. That thud which now fills me with confusion. What was he doing with HER? He only gives me a simple glance before walking near the basement door, pulling the lady along. Green eyes locked onto mine before they completely disparate into the darkness of his dungeon. My heart swirls and my eyes burn. She was so gorgeous, so different from me. Why did he want her..? The iron scraps against the oak floors. I huff, stomping over toward the kitchen, rust bleeds from the tap eventually turning clear(ish). I take a knife from the bottom, scrubbing… occupying my mind. My breath feels heavy. Where was he? Why didn’t he say anything? Why’d he choose another girl?

What was he doing with her now..?

My body tensed, scrubbing harder until I realized the blade cut through the sponge, cutting deep into my hand.

“Shit!” I exasperate, throwing the knife back into the sink.

The women’s scream erupted through the floorboard. 12 minutes less than when he would usually kill them. 12 minutes more he could’ve done stuff with her. My knees buckle, my balance becomes trippy and I grip onto the kitchen island, red staining the granite. I gasp out stumbling to the bathroom door. Collapsing in the sink, I open the cabinet knocking a vial of pills over. Grabbing the bandages I run the water, rinsing the blood off revealing the incision. It’s deep. What the hell did I do?

I wrap the bandages tight til I can't feel pain anymore. The scraping iron re-entrances. Those thuds of those boots approached. His broad frame blocked the doorway, I ignored him and continued wrapping. A good while passes. A light scoff from him and he grips my bandaged hand, raising it, forcing me to turn to him. Shoving his face into mine I can smell the whiskey of his tongue.

“You makin’ too much noise.”

He squeezed my hand harder, I felt the warm liquid run down, staining the white. My eyebrows furrow. He pushes his face farther

“Quit it.” He growls.

He throws my hand away without another word, those same thuds now fading. Tears stain my cheeks, I can feel the pulsing of my hand, of his grip. It’s so different now.

He had not even cared.

Didn’t even care how I hurt for him.

Bleed for him. Because of him.

He did not care about me.

He cared about her.

That girl.

That perfect girl with her golden hair.

Her perfect tan.

Those Emerald eyes.

Her pretty lips.

Her perfect…

everything.

Warm feelings rush through me, I stomp towards the basement, swinging the iron door as it clatters against the wood, my heavy steps cracks the wood. The fridgid air doesn’t affect me. I want her. I need her.

Where is she?

From a turned corner she lays there, slumped against the concrete wall with blood seeing from her throat. I bend down, raising her head. Her doe eyes, beautiful after death, the gloss sheen enlightens them even more. Her sparse freckles paint her cheeks perfectly, her lips slightly parted with those amazing teeth, her curls fall perfectly. The blood paints her body like art. She just stares at me. Those eyes. So pure. Too pure… it angers me. Red flows through me and my breathing becomes sparse.

I lunged out digging my thumbs into those beautiful eyes, her eyes which mocked me, laughed at me. No more pretty eyes from him to look at, yet now the cold shoots through me. No satisfaction.

I gasped. I can only collapse onto her body begging for forgiveness, gasping for air from my flood of tears. I feel insanity. I remove my fingers, still hunched over her. I raise my head to look, but oh…

she didn’t even need her eyes to be beautiful.

——————————————————————

I found myself adopting her persona unknowingly. I had my hair bleached and would wake up to curl it each day. I stayed outside more to tan, I would do the same smoky makeup she had on, I would walk like her, stand like her and everything. Even have the same clothes she wore.

But I was not her.

I could never be her.

Johnny stood more distant. I would see him around once or twice a day. But I haven’t seen him lately at all. Not for the past two weeks, hell knows what he’s doing. But I miss him. So. so. much. But while doing the dishes one day I would hear the engine of his truck. I would hear the thuds of his boots. Those thuds I love and long for. Those thuds I would run to, only for him to stop me in my tracks.

“The hell happened to you?” he said in disgust.

My heart pulls. To me? Didn’t he want this? Didn’t he like this?

“What do you mean…?” I long out.

He pulls out a cigarette, “Your hair, and those stupid clothes”.

“Stupid..?”.

Am I stupid?

He walks up to me.

“Mhm” He mutters, puffing smoke directly into my face.

He leaves me there stunned, walking straight pass. I can’t help but ask.

“I’m stupid?”

He leans against the kitchen island, titling his head in a slight agreement. Another string pulls.

“IM FUCKING STUPID?” I yell strutting toward him.

I pound my fists against his chest, “I DID ALL THIS FOR YOU!”

I feel the wetness I've familiarized fill my eyes again. Black from my mascara mixes with tears and my vision fogs.

He pushes me back, “The hell wrong with ya’?” He questions in astonishment.

My back hits the hard cabinet and I fall to the floor. I can feel my heart finally shatter from the impact. Empty. I felt so empty.

Looking up at him black stains your cheeks, your eyes red and hair messy you stare, almost in disbelief. Johnny just glares, confused. You rise.

“Johnny…” you cry out.

“I only wanted you.”

Seconds pass. Silence. No words spoken from an outspoken man.

“…just you.”

My tears dry, cleaning his blurred face. I see that cold stare, I can't help but hate it. Quietness fills the room.

“Were my eyes not green enough?” I scoff.

“Was I not tan enough?”

“My hair not blonde enough for you?” I begin to rant.

“Oh and don’t let me forget” I pause, “I apologize for not having those freckles”

“Or her BOOBS, or OUTFITS, or CHARM!” I scream out pounding my injured hand on the table.

“What’re you talkin’ bout?” He steps back.

I follow him, “OH I'M SO SORRY I COULDN'T BE LIKE HER JOHNNY!”

My voice echoes through the house. With each step he takes I take another. Closer.

“IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED?!” I grab a knife from the drying rack, stabbing it into the cutting board.

It was the same knife which had cut into me. The same knife that cut into me because of him. That same knife that made ME BLEED BECAUSE OF HIM. A surge of intense heat courses through my vein, tightening each muscle, and clouding all rational thoughts. An overwhelming sense of frustration and irritation takes over. My vision red, I scream, shoving him against the cabinet, shaking, hitting, crying, hoping to knock sense into him. I exhaust.

“I’m the only girl you need..” I trail off sobbing into his chest.

I continue sobbing, “If I can’t have you, then I don’t want anyone else to either.”

A strong hand supports the back of my head. I look up to him. His face is flushed red, his breath quivers. I look down.

The kitchen knife. It now makes him bleed because of me.

I shierk, stumbling back. My stomach turns, what have I done? He collapses to the floor, supporting himself with one knee.

“Johnny!” I cry, falling to help.

His left hand caresses my face, moving her blonde hair from my face. His gaze lingers a little longer. He struggles. The reflection from the metal of his skinning knife makes it’s appearance, my eyes begin to gloss. I don’t want to look away. And with a sudden sweep the sharp edge makes its contact with my neck. The blood begins to spill.

Maybe it’ll paint me just as beautiful as her.

Maybe he’ll see that.

Maybe he’ll know how much I loved him.

[onyourhyuck]

Meddle About | L.DH (M)

prologue- “please just this once?” + “we both know you’re not that quiet.”

tw- dry humping, needy hyuck who really just wants to feel you, public setting (grocery store), fem!y/m. established relationship. hyuck is just incredibly horny tbh. groping(?) no minors <3

notes- i wrote this as i was listening to “Meddle About by Chase Atlantic.” 😭 pure inspiration for this entire thing ig.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

donghyuck is being a big headache to you right now. it’s making you more and more annoyed, as you’re simply trying to focus on the shopping list that you guys need for your apartment.

he wasn’t helping whatsoever so you have to rely on a piece of paper and your amazing memory.

he whines again, very slowly and carefully making sure none of the local people shopping as well won’t hear him.

“Please just this once? No one will know if I’m behind you.” haechan would say but knowing you, you have already made up your mind.

You face him with a warning face, the type of expression that you’d give a small child when rejecting them. Your eyebrows furrow at his persistence and persuasiveness; you hate to admit it but you don’t really like seeing him this way too. As much as you wish to help him, you really dislike the amount of people that could see you and him.

So that is what’s making you so hard to agree on this. “Lee Donghyuck.” You slowly start. haechan grows quiet. Oh no you said his full name, that’s when he truly feels like he’s push you off the edge.

“Have you gone crazy today?” you scold mildly shouting, throwing the bag of rice in the shopping cart. He slowly wraps his hands round your waist, pressing lips in a hearth shape pouts.

“I have, crazy about you. You’re blue balling me so much right now y/n.”

You roll your eyes pushing the boy lightly off as you approach the coffee section, he simply gets blocked on the few shelves as you tower over him with a dark gaze that really made him more turned on; who knew seeing your lover angry would be arousing?

You reach for the coffee tub, pushing it in the cart. He wasn’t leaving your sight or making it anymore better than before. You trail speaking, matter of factly. “We both know you’re not that quiet, hyuck.”’

It’s the truth and he knows it. He was quite a vocal person, he needed a speaking stimulus and he loves it when he can scream your name or hear you, scream his name. The risk was fully 99 percent because he made it risky. Y/n was simply being cautious to not get pulled into a situation that will embarrass and haunt her forever.

“I promise i’ll not meep a sound, please. can i at least hump you from behind. Just once?”’Haechan remarks to you which made you clench your jaw, he lovingly gazed in your eyes as you look at him in silence for a bit.

“If you weren’t human i’d think you’re a damn rabbit, geez hyuck, fine.” You curse mentally, why can’t you ever say no to him? The way his face lights up hearing you agree made his entire day less torturous and painful, he whisper’s list’s off thank you’s and pleas that he’s made to god praying for your acceptance.

“I promise to never ever bother you with such requests again baby, thank you for being so kind.” He whispers in your ears sweetly as he cups you from behind as you push the cart, casually continuing back to shopping. Luckily not many cameras where in motion where you stand in the fifteenth aisle with snacks like deserts and more. he was only behind you rubbing the power part of his body, until he follows a space of his liking to thrust his tightly crotch covering by the jeans.

You let out a stiff gasp that you cover your mouth. You weren’t sure why you even let out a noise when you knew what he was planning to do, but sometimes you get a reminder that your boyfriend has a big manhood, despite his very persistent whiny personality when he’s absolutely crazy hard in middle of nowhere.

You tightly grip the cart keeping a calm straight posture that held tension everywhere, he felt you squeeze everytime he would slowly hump you in casual slow motions that drove you crazy. He lets out stuck whimpers that only you could hear.

“I said only once, hyuck..” You tell him calmly as your cheeks start flushing with colours, more and more people were coming to the aisle you and haechan were at. he must’ve been lost in the pleasure as he continues to do more and more.

taking more and more for you. he couldn’t hear you mention the other locals coming your way , nor did he find the emotion to care about them if they see you hunched slightly over with your gaping boyfriend humping you like a wild animal.

“Just one more, I promise that’s it after that.” he murmurs, inhaling your scent carefully as his hips pivot. you let out a soft sigh as the last thrust must’ve been purposely made to make you create noises.

You slowly begin to push him off as he obliges, with a smirk casting over you, noticing the shy face you’d give him as well as the bright colour to your face. He wraps an arm around your hands, intertwining them. He kisses your lips with a gentle peck.

You pause watching him admire you for a bit, as you scowl. He was suddenly being really lovey dovey now that you gave him exactly what he wanted.

“you’re unbelievable, hyuck. Are you in heat or something?” you gawk open as he laughs a little, he follows you pushing the cart side by side, leaving the isolated aisle. As you made your way to another, Haechan teasingly moved his hand down your ass cupping it with a grope. You squeak loudly turning around to slap his arm on the side, haechan giggling as he was watching you react so explosively.

He puts hands up in surrender, watching you glare, but he knew you cannot stay mad at him. It was impossible.

“Look hands are up!” He exclaims making you watch his hand stay in the wide air. You kiss your teeth at him, hissing. “Go to the vegetable section and get potatoes dammit, before i make this the last time you’ll ever accompany me grocery shopping.”

He smirks saluting you as if you were an army general commanding him in his line of duty. Haechan beams. “Yes sir, no more meddling about, for now.”

“For now—?” You turn around but haechan has already ran to get the vegetables you ordered him to get, before you would murder him if he stands next to you again. You shake your head, sighing.

He was right though. This won’t be the last time you will meddle about with him…

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work, thank you <3 Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out!!!

[keysmashingfantasies]

Heyo! Could you maybe do a story about Chishiya and reader. Something about the both of them getting into a huge fight over something and they start avoiding each other. After a bit both come to realise they really miss each other but are to stubborn to do anything. Chishiya finally cracks and decides to tell reader but before he could they go into a game and reader avoids him until they end up getting hurt nearly dying. So he tells them how he feels but reader ends up surviving and the go back to the roof and talk and they confess and he asks her out and lots of fluff. Sorry my English is terrible.

i sure can! thank you for asking (⁠´⁠∩⁠｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡⁠∩⁠`⁠). and your english is fine, don't worry!

ps: it's a bit different from the request but i hope that's ok with you.

ps2: this is so fucking long im sorry.

potential tw: mentions overdose and lethal dosages, several medications and substances, syringes, medical inaccuracy in general. anon, if this is triggering for you please contact me again so i can write something different for you.

The thing in the new world is that there was no way of telling the time accurately. Unless you were in a timed game, there were only sunrises and sunsets to rely on. So you went by feeling. The thumping of the bass music by the pool, for instance, even when people were just starting to come back from the games, felt like it had been going on for days. It felt like you and Chishiya were stuck on a fight for about the same amount of time, his smug attitude combined with the music was enough to make your head hurt and you wanted to strangle him.

"You have to realize you can't sacrifice yourself for strangers like that", he said. You sighed for the nth time since the conversation started.

"It wasn't a sacrifice! I'm right here, am I not?", you said. Chishiya's anxiety was on an all time high, which on the outside translated to him being furious. He couldn't believe he almost lost you.

"You could not be! What, you decided to be a hero now?", his face looked calm for now, but he had red splotches on his chest and going up his neck, the vein on the side of it bulging under the hot skin, he started to move his hands around inside his pockets.

"It was a calculated risk! I knew there were no chance of me dying, Chishiya!", you were exasperated. You knew Chishiya had a habit and a hobby of treating beach residents like children but you thought you and Kuina were an exception, that you got an ounce of respect. Apparently, you were wrong.

"There's always chance of death here. If that was a calculated risk then you sure are stupid". His face slightly fell. He immediately regretted it. If your anger felt like a boiling pot on the verge of overflowing before, now it felt like a heavy block of ice on your chest. You wanted to hurt him. Chishiya was indifferent and nonchalant about a lot of things. But he despised stupidity.

"What did you just called me?", you said, your voice low. And if it wasn't for the mind numbing song being done, only to be quickly replaced with another, Chishiya was sure he wouldn't have heard you.

"You're not thinking straight. I guess I was mistaken about you and how useful you can be", he regained composure very quickly. He didn't repeat the word again, though.

"Is that what I'm good for? Being useful to you?", you voice was pure venom. Chishiya gave the fakest smirk in his life but it worked. He refused to let you win. You were fuming beneath all that ice.

"I don't know if that's all you're good for. But it's true", he shrugged his shoulders. It was your time to smile, but it did not reach your eyes, the light inside of them dimming.

"Then good luck for you and Kuina to get out of here without me. I hope you don't throw her under a bus too", you spat, leaving him behind on the roof.

-

You had to pull some strings and kiss some ass but you managed to go to a game on a whole different district than Chishiya, rather than stay close to him. If you happened to land on the same game and saw his face, you were certain that given the chance you'd kill him. That's what you told yourself when you started to avoid him after the fight a few days prior.

Honestly, as much as you were furious, you know seeing him would hurt more than refresh your anger. And you didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

You landed on a game of clubs with four Beach girls and two strangers. You all entered a white room, unsettlingly bright and clean with one table and one monitor on one of the walls of what used to be a hospital. You knew Chishiya would know what to do and the thought of him made your face twist in disgust. You stood around a circular table with what looked like all sorts of medical containers. Droppers, syringes, beakers, flasks of medication arranged in a circle around a roulette. You accessed the strangers again. For the looks of it, father and son, that landed on this new world by accident. Good luck with that, you thought. At least they're in a clubs game for now.

Registration closed. Game: Pharmacy. Difficulty: 7 of clubs. In the table there are dosages of different substances in various degrees of toxicity, from harmless to lethal. The players will take turns spinning the roulette to decide what they should consume. Then, the remaining six will decide the course of action. The game objective is to finish the whole 7 containers one way or another, but they all must be consumed. If you try to empty the containers in any other way, is game over. You can lose players in this game, but only unanimous decisions will count. You will have one hour.

First, the blonde girl on the right is selected first to spin the roulette. The robotic voiced ringed again: Player one: 3500mg of cough syrup.

Then the boy. He looked about 18. Player two: 100mg of cyanide. His father started sobbing immediately, a sound you tried your best to drawn out. You understood though. The boy weighed 60kg at best.

Then one of the other girls that came with you, one with pastel blue hair, that was standing across from you in the circular table was next. Player three: 700mg of pure mercury.

Then the father was next, he sniffled and turned the roulette with a weak arm, absolutely devastated. The kid looked more concerned for his life then him. Player four: 800mg of sugar. He gave a humorless laugh and banged his fist on the table, but the boy visibly relaxed. Only in the borderlands. But you understood. If it came down to it, you'd rather see Chishiya safe than be safe yourself.

Then another girl was next. You didn't know how she wasn't cold with her sleeveless pink top. She was shaking when she turned the wheel but it most definitely looked like nerves rather than the chilly room. Player five: 60mg of tigersnake venom.

Then it was your turn. You felt like you were about to throw up, spinning the the roulette with as much force as you could, as if that'd help with anything. Player six: 24mg of tetrodotoxin. Shit, you thought.

Then the last girl, with stripey blonde highlights on her hair. She had shed a few tears. Player seven: 20mg of ricin.

You have one hour.

The father immediately panicked.

"My son is not taking anything. If the rest of you don't take it all, I'll kill you all myself", he spat.

"It's in the rules that the decisiond must be unanimous. If you kill us without taking our votes into consideration, you'll die as well", you deadpanned, only to make an expression of distaste next. You spoke like Chishiya.

"What will we do then? Just do it and then what? Wait to see if it kills us?", blue haired girl broke down, hugging herself.

"No, maybe there's another way...", the pink top girl said.

"YEAH? LIKE WHAT?", the older man yelled, promptly initiating a ruckus. They were all screaming, crying, talking over each other in the small space, the pounding headache you had on the beach was returning. If that was a calculated risk then you sure are stupid.

"EVERYONE QUIET!", you yelled. "Please, okay? Maybe... maybe there's something we're missing", you said, resting your trembling hands on the cool glass of the table.

"Like what? You know what poison you got? Tetrodotoxin. People die every year from eating that. Just a few grams and BAM!", the father was cackling. "If I'm going to lose my son then I'll make sure to kick you while you're dying".

"Dad!", the son looked horrified. This world really takes the worst of people. The father calmed down while being reprimanded by his son and the other girls.

"What did you say?", you asked. You were so angry to be asking yourself what would Chishiya do. But even with him being an absolute asshole, he was smart. You shook your head again. "...then you sure are stupid".

"I said I'll kick-"

"No, you moron. Before that", you asked.

"A few grams?", he looked genuinely confused.

"Yeah... That. It's poison but... to kill us, it needs a certain amount, right?", you said. "What if we share?"

Everyone agreed immediately, except for the father, who needed maybe 15 more minutes of persuasion. Even if by the end of it, just his son had enough patience to deal with him.

"Everything is measured", the boy said. "Maybe this is what we are supposed to do after all!", the boy was so optimistic it made you sad.

"Okay. Let's start". You took the small dropper from the table.

"We'll start with yours?", the pink girl asked.

"You're right. Let's start with the less lethal first. If we get out quick enough we can-", you took a glance at the boy and his father. "We can make ourselves puke as quick as possible. And find a pharmacy". You didn't have the heart to say you had access to a doctor in front of the two non Beach members. "Sugar first. You, are you good at math?", you asked the boy. After everything was calculated, each one of you ate the dosage of sugar as quick as possible, the overwhelming sweetness making you clench your jaw.

"Next-", you started.

"Cough syrup?", asked the ricin girl.

"Yeah, I think so", you took turns passing the beaker around, taking tentative sips to make sure the liquid was evenly distributed. If you weren't overwhelmed with the sweetness before, you sure was now.

"What now?", asked blue haired girl, her eyes going glassy and big.

"Mercury next", you said.

"100 milligrams for each?", asked the girl. "Are you sure?"

"No. But it's better than only you taking 700mg all by yourself, no?", you said, and she nodded decidedly.

After it was consumed, you looked around. "Everyone ok?", besides uneasy looks, no one had collapsed yet which you took as success for the time being. "We have to be quick now, before our body starts processing it".

-

"Take her inside! Take her inside now!", pleaded the girls, while Tatta carried your limp body on his arms to Ann's autopsy room, followed by a small mob of curious people.

Chishiya, that was on the lobby worried sick at your game taking so long blanched immediately seeing your limp body. You and the four desperate girls following Tatta covered from what it seemed splotches of your own puke. Fortunately, the militants decided to be useful for once and disperse the crowd. Chishiya, an executive member, was let in.

-

Up close it was even scarier. He was used to seeing people in these conditions at the hospital but never someone he cared about. He went in and out of consciousness it seemed, his body frozen and eyes zeroed in on your closed ones while the blue haired girl sterically tried to explain to Ann what had happened, her latex gloved fingers down your throat to make you puke more.

"This man... Poison... Convincing him... Unanimous... The son...Really sick... Two minutes... Took what was left... Saved our lives".

If Chishiya wasn't already absolutely destroyed, he definitely would be now. This was the final blow to his conscience. He insulted you, pushed you away, let you go on to a game without him or Kuina. So you strayed from his sight and now you were passed out on a table, covered in puke. Just because he was too much of a coward to just tell you he was worried because he loved you.

"She's not puking anymore. Now we just have to take care of her and wait. Tatta, take her out of here. Girls, I'll take care of you next".

"I'll take her. Tatta, I'll take her to my room", With each one of your limp arms around the neck of each man, they slowly managed to take you into the elevator until Chishiya's room's floor. He put you on the bed on your side carefully and forced himself to not even blink as much, waiting for any reaction out of you, checking your heartbeat every 10 seconds. After an hour and some crying he decided to gingerly clean you up with a moist towel, taking off your dirty clothes and rinsing your mouth delicately with water, sitting next your naked body on the bed and taking one of your hands in his, placing it on his lap and playing with your fingers, one of his thumbs pressed firmly into your pulse.

"I'm so sorry. You're not dumb. You're not dumb at all. You're just brave. Braver than me. I shouldn't have said that, I'm a coward, I should've admitted to you and myself that I loved you and spared you from this. Please wake up so I can look you in the eyes when I apologize", he looked at your naked body in the moonlight, your face looked serene despite everything. You looked like an angel. For a moment he tried to pretend you had just made love. That you were asleep dreaming of the life you'd start together out of that world. He rested his elbows on his knees, dropping his head and pressing your hand sandwiched between his on his sweaty forehead.

"...shiya", you groaned.

-

Everything hurt. Your head, your joints, your throat. Your limbs felt like they were made of lead and you had to make a conscious effort to move even a pinky. Then everything came rushing back.

"Y/N? Y/N, open your eyes. Open. Please. It's me, Chishiya", a voice you knew all too well spoke.

To the dismay of your pounding head, you opened your eyes, but even with the lights off you still felt awful.

"What are you doing here?", you slurred, coughing a bit from your raw throat. Your mouth tasted like something crawled inside it and died.

Instantly a bottle of cold water was pressed to your lips, and you tried your best to glare at Chishiya through your drowsy state while he helped you drink. He looked rough, like he hadn't slept days and had been crying a lot.

"You been crying?", you asked, voice to weak to go above a whisper.

"I was worried about you", he said, placing the bottle back on the bedside table without looking you in the eyes.

"You worried about me? Why? Thought you said I was dumb and not useful for your scheming and whatnot. What changed?", he could tell you were angry, even if your voice was monotone.

"I changed. I loved you before all the same. I just...", he paused for a moment. You opened a weak smile and Chishiya was suddenly on the verge of tears again. "I'm sorry. This was all my fault. I just-", he cupped your face.

"How is what happened to me your fault?", you asked.

"I should've been there. With you. But even when I wasn't, you made me proud. I love you", he said.

"It's not your fault. I had to go be a hero again. Not smart", you closed your eyes, the weak lighting finally getting the best of you.

"Very smart. The smartest in this whole place", he said softly.

"Besides you?", you chuckled before coughing again.

"Yeah, that", he gave you a wobbly smile you didn't see.

"Chishiya... I love you. And I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have avoided you", you said. "Come hold me please? I owe you a kiss, promise I'll pay as soon as I can brush my teeth".

Chishiya held you to his chest gingerly, kissing the top of your head. He'd never leave you out of sight again.

[sunandflame]

Flame and Water, Chapter 9

Ship & Trope: Kyojuro x Fem!Reader (Water Pillars Tsuguko) / Slowburn

Warnings: mention of trauma, death and anxiety

Word Count: 1308 Words

pinterest board of Flame and Water

Masterlist of Flame and Water

The smile on his lips never seemed to fade even as he looked at you with his intense eyes. But you couldn't hold his gaze for too long and looked at the floor. "I-" You struggled with the words; you just didn't know how to bring up this difficult subject that had stuck with you all your life. Especially since you'd done your best to avoid it. You hadn’t even had access to the memory until you met him. You found it difficult to breathe again and the nervousness that had plagued your first conversation was back.

Large, warm hands clasped yours and protected you from scratching the skin on the backs of your hands. You hadn’t even realized what you were doing before he stopped you. "L/N-san, it’s okay. Just don't forget to breathe." After knowing him and speaking so much with him it was unusual to hear him in such a normal volume, but he really tried to reassure you like the first time, and you immediately calmed down.

You did as he told you and took a few breaths before you let go of his hands, looking down on your knees. "I- I want to tell you a little bit about my past if that is okay... Maybe it will explain a lot of things for you."

Rengoku gave you an attentive nod for you to continue. To signal you that he won't interrupt you. You quarreled with yourself for a while before you finally started to speak.

"I grew up in a village that was very close to a river. My father was the fisher who everybody could rely on. A gentle and calm man who used to protect his loved ones with all his strength. My mother was as gentle as him and was always busy selling the fish my father caught. I always found it boring to stand at the market with my mother, so I always went with my father, though I was not really a big help. I much preferred jumping into the river and swimming with the fish. He always lovingly called me 'sweet little koi fish'.” You took another deep breath as the happy memories flooded your mind. “One time I was even able to catch a fish with my bare hands, even if it was a small one; I was so proud of myself and I remember how we celebrated that day by eating it. My father kept proudly telling everyone how good of a swimmer and fisher I was." You paused again and chuckled at the fond memory before your face turned sad. Your fingers trembled again and grabbed the hem of your pants.

"I can't recall a lot, but I know that I woke up to the heat. This immense heat... It was-" You choked on your words the memory came alive in front your eyes. Rengoku took one of your hands that was on your knee. He gave you the strength to continue and so you did. "The heat was everywhere, and I remember calling for my parents, but they were nowhere to be seen. I tried to get up, run out of our house but the fallen beams barred my way. But it hadn't blocked my view. I saw how they had been beheaded. A clean cut from a katana. I got scared and ran away, but I started to feel dizzy soon from the lack of air. I started coughing, my vision was distorted and I was in pain-" Your narrative speeded up, but at this point you needed to stop yourself. You need to leave out the part about how your little body was engulfed in flames back then. But there was another part you couldn't skip, and you were worried about his reaction. His hand was still holding yours. "The moment I saw you, I had seen 'him'.  The flame man with flaming hair and the flame haori. He was standing there with his katana. I know it was him. He was the one who killed my parents, he was the one who started this fire. He was the one who did this to me. Your father is the flame man of my nightmares!"

Your breath came out jagged and tears that you hadn’t shed before then flowed unstoppably. You had said enough but it felt like the dam broke. You continued talking through the tears no matter how painful they might be for the listener.

"The sight of you brought back a memory I never wanted to see again. The sight of you made me panic because I was going through the same nightmare repeatedly. I was running away because I was afraid that you, no he, would complete his work and let me burn alive. I-I don't want to die yet! I want to live because I know that is what my parents wanted for me!"

Your whole body was shaking like a leaf and the tears wouldn't stop. Your hands were still entwined, and he didn't seem to want to let go either. Even if you spoke earlier about how much the memories of his father and the heat tormented you, the warmth he radiated was a balm for your soul.

After your outburst, you didn't speak. You sat on the engawa holding hands and both of you stared into the distance until Rengoku broke the silence.

"You must be wrong..." His voice was rarely quiet.

You didn't understand. You looked up to him, but his gaze was still fixed straight ahead.

"It's not that I do not believe you, but my father is not that kind of person. He protects the humans. He protected them until he laid down the katana for an unknown reason."

And then you realized at that moment that his sunny and optimistic disposition was also hiding something. You said nothing and squeezed his hand to indicate that you would be his listener now. That he could speak freely around you.

And so he did. He spoke of the death of his mother, Ruka, who was everything to him. Who was the person who had passed down her sincere morals to him. He spoke about his little sweet brother, Senjuro, who tried so hard to gain the approval of their father. And he spoke about his father, Shinjuro, who was once a man who loved his children and raised them with love and passion. A man who suddenly decided to put his katana away and changed drastically after the death of their mother. A man who succumbed to alcohol, who became lonely and bitter in his grief.

He tilted his head back and looked up at the sky, sharing something he never did once in his life. "The only thing I ever wanted to hear from my father is that he's proud of me. That the things I do have meaning and purpose in his eyes too."

You tried to separate the man, who was his father, from the flame man and tried to look at things objectively. "Maybe he is just afraid of losing you too, especially after your mother’s death, and maybe he doesn’t know how to tell you."

For the first time in a while, he finally looked at you. "Yes, I had the same thought!" Now he laughed again, and you gave him a little smile back. "Only my father knows the answer to this - as with your situation. I'll talk to him as soon as the opportunity presents itself. But you don't need to be afraid of him as long as I'm with you."

You gave him a silent nod, before your gaze lingered into the distance. You sat on the engawa and watched the sun go down, still holding hands like friends would, though you knew your feelings towards him were growing like gentle waves.

🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥

It looks like even if she opens up that she is not able to talk about her scars. 💔 Big thanks to my lovely friend @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi for beta reading and editing❤️) I am open for discussions and critique. All likes, reblogs and replies are highly appreciated!

Taglist:

@krillfromsky @kingmultiverse404 @deepressed @nelissecrectplace @yomoya-girl @theycallmemrsbarnes @roninishere @beelzmunchkin @kyojurismo @stuckinthewrongworld @lynnw @love-me-satoru @felix99999l @noarawriteszr @strawberrymm @rye-flower @demonslayeranimex @kittenssss-blog-blog @hanatsuki-hime @kxthxrinx3180 @thatw3ird0 @lovely-nayiq @annie-napier @cole-silas

[searchingwardrobes]

I'm back!!! After months and months of creative exhaustion and writer's block, this story came to me one night when I couldn't sleep. It's just a little one shot of pillow talk in Camelot that's a little fluffy, a tiny bit angsty, and a whole lot of tenderness. I hope you all enjoy it!

Rated T

               Killian wished for the first time for those garish artificial lights of Storybrooke. As Emma said, he was becoming a 21st century man, and he had come to enjoy the ability to see his beloved in all her glory, even after the sun went down. Here in Camelot, however, he had to rely on his sense of touch alone to map the marks on Emma he had come to know so well.

            “You and I, we understand each other,” Emma had said once, and the longer they were together, the more they saw it to be true. Though many a woman had warmed his bed, he still felt self-conscious the first time Emma saw the scars that riddled his body, yet she had smiled in that knowing way she had, and had cheekily said, “let me show you mine.”

            His thumb now grazed the puckered one on her shoulder, a form of punishment by a foster father using the tip of his cigar. He nudged her hair aside with his nose, then lightly brushed his lips across the faint white line behind her right ear, caused by a broken beer bottle.

            “I thought I ducked in time,” Emma had chuckled when she told him the story, “until I felt the trickle of blood dripping down my neck.”

            He knew what it was to make light of a person’s past, as if childhood slavery was just one of those things that happens sometimes. There was nothing normal about it, however, just as there was nothing normal about Emma living in an alleyway at the age of ten ducking from beer brawls.

            Emma shifted in his arms with a contented sigh. He wished she could sleep, but since the darkness wouldn’t allow herself that reprieve, at least she could find solace in his embrace. “You silence the voices in my head,” she had told him, pressing her nose to his collarbone. If that was the case, he would not leave her side, though the sleeping arrangements hadn’t made her father very happy at first.

            Killian’s fingers danced along the jagged scars along her upper back, the newest ones, from when a skip she was chasing pushed her into a plate glass window. That story elicited a shrug and bragging rights that she only missed a few days of work. Bravado – he understood that defense mechanism as well.

            They really did understand one another.

            Emma reached around for his arm and pulled his hand down to lace his fingers with hers. She pressed their joined hands to her chest, and he noticed the slightest change in her bearing. An almost imperceptible stiffening, and did her pulse just kick up a notch? She shifted again, this time as if she were uncomfortable.

            “Are you alright, love?”

            Emma released his hand, and using her magic, she lit the candles in the room. Then she rolled over to face him, her hands fluttering, as if she didn’t know whether to touch him or not. She finally balled them up in the sheet that covered her, pulling it up to her chin.

            “Do you know the song ‘Brandy’?”

            Killian chuckled. “You know my only knowledge of this realm’s music is you and Henry. Right now your lad is educating me on something called punk? Apparently, it was a favorite of his father’s.”

            Emma rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, Neal loved that stuff. I prefer the classics.”

            “Like those beetle people?”

            “The Beatles, Killian, and yes. Also Motown, Elvis, Creedence Clearwater Revival. I don’t know why, I just always liked the old stuff.”

            “And this song? ‘Brandy’? Is by one of these singing groups?”

            “Uh, no, but it's kind of the same genre, I guess. I don’t know even know who sings it, actually. I thought maybe you’d heard it at Granny’s or something. It’s about this girl and a sailor, so . . . “

            “Ah.” He nodded, encouraging her to go on. He was glad she’d lit the candles, though he still couldn’t see her well. Well enough, however, to see the furrow of her brow and the way her lips turned down. This was obviously about more than a song. “Most sailors I know prefer rum, though. Brandy is a little high brow for our modest tastes.”

            Emma rolled her eyes, which was precisely what he’d been going for. “Brandy is a woman. She lives by the sea and serves drinks to sailors. In a tavern, I guess.”

            “Aptly named.”

            Emma adjusted her pillow beneath her head and rolled over. She continued the story gazing up at the ceiling instead of looking at him.

            “The song tells the story about her and the man she falls in love with. He’s a sailor, and he loves her, but always leaves her.”

            Killian is beginning to see where this is going. He shifts closer to her, propping his head up on his blunted arm so he can look down at her as she speaks. With his hand, he strokes her arm gently.

            “The chorus,” Emma continues, “is what the man always says to her: Brandy, you’re a fine girl. What a good wife you would be, but my life, my love, my lady is the sea.”

            There are many things Killian could say. The first thought that comes to his mind is that the man in the song is either an idiot or a complete cad who most likely has a girl in every port. He’s known the type. People probably assume he’s the type, but he was always careful that his one-night stands had the same expectations he did. He actively avoided women who would be a “good wife.” Not every sailor had good form, however. He could explain all of that to Emma; tell her that the song is unfortunately a common tale, but it’s never been his.

            He knows, however, that none of those things are what Emma needs right now. So he waits, without moving, his hand still caressing her arm. Emma releases a puff of angry breath before speaking again.

            “I’ve always hated that song.”

            “Emma, love,” Killian says gently, shifting onto his back and reaching for her, “come here.”

            She comes to him a bit shyly, and he smiles at her gently as he cups her face with his hand. In her gaze, he can see hesitation. Fear. He doesn’t know if it’s the darkness whispering doubts, or if it’s her same old insecurities, but this is one battle he knows how to help her fight.

            “My life,” he says, kissing her cheek, “my love,” he kisses her nose, “my lady,” he kisses her forehead, then pulls back so he can gaze into her eyes, “is you, Emma.”

            Her eyes well up with tears, and a hesitant smile teases the corners of her mouth. “The Jolly Roger was your home for so long. You had nothing holding you back. Nothing tying you down.”

            Killian shakes his head. “Emma, you said once that you and I understand one another. You, like me, were an orphan. What is the one thing all orphans want more than anything else?”

            “A home,” Emma breathes without hesitation.

            Killian nods, then kisses her fiercely, pulling her to himself, his hand tangling in her hair, pouring into his kiss all his hopes and dreams for their future. When they part, breathless, Emma presses her forehead to his, her smile finally full and joyous.

            “So I didn’t freak you out when I mentioned that white picket fence?”

            Killian tucks her against him, wrapping his arms fully around her. As he kisses the top of her head, he thinks of the real estate ads he and Henry have been looking at, one house in particular that looks fit for a princess, with a view of the sea.

            “Not at all, love. I want that too.”

            Emma snuggles further into his embrace, her hand splayed on his chest, right over his heart.

            “Good,” she says, with that edge of smugness he’s always found so endearing.

            He tries to stay awake, for her sake, but the warm, flickering light of the candles, combined with the softness of her in his arms, lulls him more than the ocean waves. Just as sleep pulls him under, he murmurs against her hair.

            “You’re my home now, Emma. My life, my love, my lady.”

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