#I need to start doing like a ‘nightly encouraging words’ where I pull from my massive collection

[squigglywindy]

Good night everyone! This is becoming part of my night time routine don’t mind me…

You are all amazing and talking with y’all and/or just seeing your posts makes my day a lil bit brighter <3

Everyone remember to eat sleep and drink, and take some time to do something you enjoy if you can <333

[vodika-vibes]

Could I please request a soulmate au with Echo that's the same as that Tech one where they have a sharing mark, and it turns grey when their soulmate dies. And one day the reader gets hurt and is technically dead for a few minutes, so on Echo's side of things he sees his mark turns grey and he pretty much has a panic attack until the mark has it's colour comes back.

Trouble

Summary: Pabu is pretty peaceful, but accidents happen even in peaceful places.

Pairing: TBB Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1369

Prompt: Soulmate AU - soulmates have identical marks somewhere on their body

Warnings: Some angst, mentions of drunk driving

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Sorry if this isn't exactly what you wanted, I have a hard time writing when people are talking to me, and my husband woke up and started talking to me, distracting me and pulling me out of the zone.

You love your soul mark. It’s pretty, with swooping curls and vibrant colors, and it reminds you of a butterfly. 

You also love your soul mate.

Echo is practically perfect. He’s kind and gentle. He’s clever and witty and never fails to make you laugh when you need one. And he listens to you when you talk.

He also encourages you to try new things, even when you’re sure that you won’t be good at them. Echo likes to kiss your temple and ask if you have to be good at something to enjoy it.

Which, no. You don’t. But you’re something of a perfectionist, and it’s hard to view something through the lens of just enjoying it when it could be better.

Echo is helping you with that.

You like to think that he’s made you a better person, and you hope that you’ve made him a better person too. He says you have, and then he makes a joke about how you wouldn’t have wanted to meet him when he was a cadet.

Your one complaint, your only complaint, is that Echo spends so much time away from Pabu. He’s a mercenary, and you know that he, and his brothers, spend so much time traveling because they need the money.

It doesn’t make it any easier to be separated from him. 

Oh, sure. You holo him nightly, and you send him messages throughout the day, but it’s not quite the same thing. And you know that he agrees, you can tell by the look that he gets on his face when you tell him that you miss him. 

You’re not trying to make it harder on him, you’re not.

You just like hearing him say that he misses you too. 

After all, your greatest fear is him leaving you behind, and finding someone better. 

On this particular day, you have a lot to do. Errands you need to run for your parents, they’re remodeling their home and need you to run to the store to buy them more paint and more hardware, and then you need to go grocery shopping for yourself.

And you need to make sure that all of Echo’s favorite foods are in the house because he’ll be back soon, and the last thing that you’ll want to do is go shopping when you’re wrapped in his arms again. 

“Do you have the color chips, kiddo?” Your dad calls as you toss your purse into the passenger seat.

“Yes, Dad,” You pull the small color cards from your pocket, “You want one of each, right?”

“Yeah…wait, no! Get two. Better to have too much than not enough.”

“Alright,” You make a note on the color chips, and slide the cards back into your pocket, before climbing into the speeder.

“Drive safe,”

“I will. I’ll be back in a bit.” You call to your dad, and then you pull out of the driveway and head out of the neighborhood.

The drive from your dad’s home to the store isn’t hard, it isn’t even long. You’ve made the drive a lot since you’ve learned how to drive, and you could probably drive the route in your sleep.

A side effect of having worked there as a teenager.

But, you can count on one hand the number of nasty accidents that happen on this road specifically. And still have fingers to spare.

That said, accidents happen.

At first, you don’t realize what you’re seeing. You don’t recognize what you’re seeing until the other speeder slams into yours.

And that’s the last thing you remember.

“Are you sure you do not wish to comm your lady to let her know that we have returned early?” Tech asks from where he’s blindly sending a series of messages to Phee. 

“I think I’d rather surprise her,” Echo replies with a shrug, “I’m surprised you don’t want to surprise Phee.”

“I considered it but thought again. Not warning her that we returned early might mean I miss her.” Tech counters with a glance at his comm as it chimes.

Echo opens his mouth to reply when a wave of nausea slams into him. He sways and has to grab a chair for balance. And then his arm starts to burn. Roughly, Echo pulls up his sleeve, revealing his soul mark.

And he watches as the vibrant blue starts to fade into lifeless grey.

Echo’s legs buckle, and Tech and Wrecker both grab him before he hits the ground. They’re saying something, but they sound like they’re very far away. Or like they’re talking underwater.

His gaze is locked on his soul mark. It’s not gone completely grey, there’s still a hint of blue, but the color is fading.

He’s watching his soul mate die in real-time, and he can’t do anything about it.

Echo jolts when something strong-scented is shoved under his nose, and he blinks at Crosshair, who’s holding a vial of medicine and kneeling in front of him. 

“The color hasn’t completely faded,” Crosshair says bluntly, “You need to stay with us.”

Echo shifts so that his back is pressed against the wall behind him. Wrecker’s hand is still resting on his shoulder. Both of his brothers have their eyes locked on Echo’s soul mark. 

Tech is standing several feet away, on a call to someone. He looks slightly stressed, but there’s also a hint of relief on his face.

“Echo, she’s still alive.”

“But…the soul mark.”

“Phee is doing some digging, but your soul mate was hit by a drunk driver. The accident happened in front of the hospital, so she is already receiving treatment. No one is giving Phee any information, she is not family, but they did tell her that the prognosis looks good.”

Tension drains from Echo’s shoulders, and both Wrecker and Crosshair release, nearly identical, sighs of relief, and Tech turns his attention back to his comm. 

The Marauder lands almost two hours later.

Two very long hours later.

Normally, Echo would stay and help unload the ship, but not today. Today he’s the first one off the ship and out of the spaceport. With Phee’s help, he reaches the hospital in record time, and he hurries into the emergency department.

“Echo!”

He hurries over to his future father-in-law, and accepts the hug from the other man, “How is she?” Echo asks as he lightly hugs the man.

“She’s being moved to recovery as we speak. Her injuries were severe, but she pulled though.”

Echo falls into a seat and presses his face into his hand, “I thought she died.” He admits.

“Your mark went grey?”

“Almost completely.” He motions to the soul mark, which is less vibrant than it was this morning but is still, clearly, blue. 

“The doctors had to amputate one of her legs.” 

“Well, I have some experience with that,” Echo replies dryly, as he motions to his prosthetic legs. He goes on to say more when a doctor steps into the waiting room.

“You can see her.” The doctor says, “Be gentle, she’s still coming out of her anesthesia.”

Echo follows the doctor into a private room, and the moment he sees her, he wants to cry. She’s covered in bruises and bandages. And her left leg was removed just above the knee.

Her eyes are fluttering open, and Echo moves to her side to brush his fingers against her cheek, “Cyare,”

“...’cho?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

She blinks at him hazily, “Where ‘m—?”

“You’re in the hospital. You were in an accident, do you remember?”

“...no,”

“That’s okay.” He brushes some of her hair out of her face, “You scared me, love.”

“‘M sorry—”

“Don’t be.” He leans in and presses a light kiss against her forehead, “Are you in pain?”

“Mm…no. I feel really good.”

“I bet you do.” He takes her hand and squeezes her hand, “I’m going to stay with you until you’re healed.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, cyare. I promise.” Weakly, she squeezes his hand, and her eyes flutter shut again. “Get some rest, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Echo watches as she drifts off to sleep, and silently starts wondering if he needs to seriously consider proposing to her sooner rather than later.

[red-writes]

Peek-a-boo

step-sis Yelena x reader

content contains: stepcest, fingering.

red’s note: I’m horny for this woman..also I’m sorry about the last line I rlly didn’t know what to put lmao

The first time was an accident.

You'd snuck a few bags of chips up to your room at 3 am for fuel while you cram studied for your exam later that day. You thought she was crying, you planned on cheering her up with your snacks and cuddles but when you peeked through the small crack of the door, she wasn't crying.

Her head tossed back as a soft moan was muffled by the t-shirt she held up between her teeth. Her fingers slid in and out of her soaked cunt, she was so wet her juices stained the pink sheets underneath her. You could've sworn her eyes caught yours through the small crack and you gasped, running as fast as you could to your room and locking yourself inside. You dumped the snacks on top of your pile of waiting notes and you climbed into bed, pulling the covers over your head as you shut your eyes and pressed your legs together, your cunt ached and you couldn't get the image of your sister out of your head. You wanted to see her again.

So you did.

It was almost like every night she was pleasuring herself. You found your ‘curiosity’ had grown into way more than just ‘wondering how other girls masturbated’ it became an insatiable lust for your older sister. She looked so pretty, so soft and sweet. You went from simply observing her, to actively touching yourself to her right outside her door. You rationalized the way your clumsy fingers rubbed over your clit as just being a one time thing, you wouldn't do it again.

But you did.

In fact, it’d become a nightly ritual for you. Your parents slept early and it made creeping out of your room easy. But tonight wasn't as easy as you first thought it would be. Your sister’s lights were off, making it hard to see anything, you creaked the door open a little more, hoping the light from the hallway would allow you to see more. But you saw nothing?

Suddenly, from behind you, you heard her speak.

“Waiting for someone?”

You practically jumped out of your skin. She chuckled at your reaction and brushed past you into the room where she flickered the lights on.

“Come in, I think we need to talk” she tells you and you naw at your lip in worry, she knows doesn't she? You were fucked. You did as you were told and shut the door behind you. She sat on the bed whilst you awkwardly stood near the door.

“What-” your voice cracked, “What did you want to speak about exactly?” you asked and she hummed in thought.

“Hmm perhaps why you've been spying on me every night?” her voice is accusatory and that causes you to enter denial mode.

“W-well..I’m not- it’s just that-” you can hardly come up with a proper excuse for your actions. Your words get caught up in your throat and you can seem to speak

“If you're trying to come up with some half-baked lie, then save it” she says and her expression softens when she sees the tears gathering in your eyes.

“Please don't tell mom and dad! If you do they'll realize that I like-” “That you like girls?” she finishes and you nod. Yelena is a dick, that’s something she’ll own up to, but shed never out someone. She notices you beginning to panic she pats her lap and encourages you to come sit in it. You shuffle over to the bed and take a seat in her lap, you bury your face in her chest and she rubs soft circles on your back.

“I like girls too” she admits and your head is popping up from resting on her chest.

“really? is it okay for me to..to like you?” you ask, in fear of her response. She pets your head and nods.

“I like you too sis”

+

You're shaking. Yelena’s room is always so cold. Being completely naked in it didn't help either. After she’s discarded her last piece of clothing she climbs onto the bed with you and your eyes are definitely fucking her. She looks so good, flat yet elegant chest on display for you. Her nipples were already pert and hard. Your eyes trailed down further, her flat tummy led down to the soft patch of furry pubes. You felt your own cunt pulsing at the sight of your sexy older sister.

“Okay, let's just start with a simple kiss”

Warm hands find your cheeks as you're slowly pulled into her, your eyes close and your lips gently press against each other in a feather light kiss. You can feel her breath against your lips, you rest your hands on her hips and pull her in closer and the kiss gets more and more heated, you’re pushed backwards and your back hits the bed with a soft thud.

The kiss breaks finally and you’re panting, lungs grateful for the oxygen. Her hands caress the sides of your breasts before squeezing them in her palms, you gasp softly and she grins at you before taking one of your nipples into her mouth and sucking on it gently. You moan softly as your hands card through her short blonde hair. One of her hands trails down your tummy, circling your belly button a few times before dipping under the waistband of your underwear.

You suck in a breath as her fingers run up and down your slit, her thumb brushes over your clit and you’re biting your lip to suppress the moan. She kisses your chest and leaves a trail of kisses up your check until she pecks your cheek.

“You ever play with yourself sis?” She asks, voice whispering directly into your ear causing a shiver to run down your spine. You nod and she rewards you with another touch to your clit. You whine and a plea for more is already resting on the tip of your tongue.

“What do you think about?”

Her fingers begin rubbing gentle circles over your aching clit, your mind becomes almost too cloudy with lust to respond, all you can think about was feeling more, more of her.

“Sissy, wanna tell me what you think about when you stroke your pretty pussy?” She asks again and this you open your mouth in response and let out a strained,

“You.”

“Good girl.”

Her fingers inch downwards until they meet your entrance, they slowly push inside and she chuckles as your eyes widen. Pleasure stirs in your gut as her fingers sink themselves inside of you. You’re trembling, mouth hanging open as your sister presses a kiss your cheek, her fingers thrusting upwards against your g-spot.

“It- feels good!” You moan and yelena’s chuckling, smugness written all over her face all the while her own wetness presses against your thigh. You squeeze your eyes shut as her finger’s speed up, pressing against your sweet spot ruthlessly only to laugh at your fucked out face.

“Feels good? Yeah? You wanna cum on my fingers pretty? Hm?” Yelena asks as she presses hot kisses against your cool, sweat slicked forehead.

You nod dumbly, words falling out of your mouth incoherently as you near your high. Her thumb teases your clit yet again and you’re cumming undone before you know it, cunt squeezing down on her fingers as you cream on them. You grab at the sheets as you ride out your high.

Her fingers slowly come to a halt before she pulls them out. She sucks on them before giving you a kiss.

“Let’s get you cleaned up” she says, helping you sit up.

“What? What about you?” You ask and she smiles placing a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Let’s see what happens in the shower.”

[babybluebex]

of pubs and profs [tom holland smut]

➽ pairing: prof!tom holland x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 4.7k ➽ summary: you have what you consider the best night of your life, but discover that it was with the worst person possible. ➽ warnings: NSFW/MDNI. smut, explicit language, fingering/oral (f recieving), unprotected sex (i am begging yall to wear a condom irl) ➽ a/n: alright so... don’t fool around with your teacher pls. live vicariously thru y/n :) 

He seemed so out of place here. For one thing, a bar like this was hardly known for much good happening, and this man exuded good. He seemed fit, even as he sat at the bar, his face sharp, full of angles that would have been glorious to sketch, and he had caramel-amber hair that curled around his ears and the nape of his neck. He wore a dark blue turtleneck and slacks, a watch with a leather band around his left wrist. 

“You’re staring.” 

I jumped. I had forgotten that I was mid-conversation. “Huh?”

Zendaya scoffed. “You’re staring at that guy,” she said. “Like, staring super hard. Do you know him?” 

“No,” I mumbled. “He’s just…” I trailed off for a moment, then attempted to save face by taking a sip of my drink. “I like the look of him. Ya know?” 

Zendaya scoffed at me. “I like the look of him too, but you’re on something else here.” There was a pause between the two of us, and Zen’s mouth split into a smile. “Five bucks.” 

“For what?” I asked. 

“You can’t get his number,” Zen said. “I’ll give you five whole dollars if you get his phone number.”

“You don’t have five dollars,” I said playfully, with narrowed eyes. “You don’t even have two coins to rub together.”

“Right, and who bought your drink?” Zen asked. “C’mon, you need to put yourself out there. Ever since you and Jacob broke up, it’s been nothing but… Sad. Your room’s a cave, Y/N. Will you do this for me?” 

I cast a glance at the guy once more, and I sighed. “Why not?” I mumbled under my breath. “But I had better get that fucking money, or I’ll take away your apartment privileges.” 

“I pay half of the rent, fuck you,” Zen laughed. “Go. Go!” 

“I am!” I giggled, and I slid myself out of the booth. The pub was bustling with nightly business, and I edged my way past a group of girls to find a place at the bar. My plan of attack was to order a drink and strike up a conversation with this guy, and grab his phone number before I left. Lucky for me, there was an empty space next to him, and I leaned against the bar with my forearms. 

“Oh, hey, good lookin’!” the bartender, Jake, exclaimed. He was a close friend of mine, hence why I always chose to drink at this particular bar. Our freshman year, he lived in the room across the hall from me, and we frequented each other for screwdrivers (of both varieties) all year. Since then, we continued to grow close. “What’s cooking?”

“Not a lot, Gyllenhaal,” I replied, and our hands met in a quick dap. “Lemme get a rum and Coke.”

“Sure thing,” Jake said. “Gimme two minutes. We’ve got a bachelorette party in the back.” 

“No problem,” I replied, and I watched Jake slide to the other side of the bar. 

The game was now on. I looked over my shoulder to Zendaya briefly, just for long enough to gauge that she was laughing at me, and I cast her a look before turning back. Then, I looked back over my other shoulder, the one closest to the guy, and I caught sight of a book he had. “What’re you reading there?” 

He looked up at me with big brown eyes, and my breath caught in my chest. From far away, he was hot but, up close, he was totally something else. He had strands of ginger in his dark hair, and his fingers closed the book in order to look at the cover, like he himself wasn’t sure of what he was reading. “Chaos Walking,” he answered, and my eyes widened. His voice was gorgeous, pitched low, accented with a London attitude. “My mate told me I’d like it.”

“Don’t think I’ve read that,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “What’s it about?” 

“Well,” he began and laughed lightly. “A lot. Basically, though, it follows a boy who lives in a world with no girls, where you can hear others thoughts, and he meets a girl. It’s sci-fi and… I dunno.” 

“Is it a good read?” I asked. “You seem like you enjoy it.” The book was battered, the paper cover torn and creased, with the spine broken. It was a book that was well-loved, and I liked how his entire being seemed to reflect the book. 

“Oh, I love it,” he said with a smile. “It’s so fun, ya know? The entirety of the story is incredible.” Then, a beat passed, and he added, “I’m Tom.” 

“Well, hi,” I said and gave him a warm smile. “I’m Y/N. No offense, but this sorta place doesn’t seem like your vibe.” 

Tom gave the front of the book a firm pat. “It’s not,” he said. “I was waiting on a friend but he doesn’t seem like he’ll be joining me tonight.”

“I didn’t think so,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “You seem like a coffee shop kinda guy.”

“You don’t quite seem like the sort to be here either,” Tom told me. 

“How do you mean?”

“You don’t belong in a pub like this, I just know it,” Tom told me. “You’d be better suited somewhere else.” 

I shrugged. “I usually don’t leave my apartment to drink,” I said. “But I’m friends with the bartender and I visit every so often just to say hi.” A moment passed. “Wait, back up. Where would I be better suited?” 

Tom smiled, but it seemed more hesitant than before. “At the risk of being bold,” he started. “My flat.” 

“Jesus!” I breathed, and my face went hot. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “That was-- I’m so sorry--”

“No, no!” I said quickly. “No, it’s not a problem, I promise. That was bold, Tom, but I don’t mind it. As a matter of fact, I think you might be right.” 

“Glad we agree,” Tom said. “D’you wanna get out of here now?” 

“Sure thing,” I said. My skin prickled at the thought of him against me, and I laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Let me get my bag.” 

When I approached the booth, Zendaya stuck her tongue at me. “You lost,” she said. 

“Did I?” I asked, pulling my bag onto my shoulder. “Or am I going home with him?” 

“Shut up,” Zen laughed. “That was quick as hell.” 

“That tends to happen,” I shrugged. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with Tom.” 

“I hate you,” I heard Zen mutter as I turned away from her. 

Tom’s apartment--his flat, as he called it--was just a short cab ride from the bar, and I had hardly passed through the front door before his hands were pressing into my waist and his mouth was on mine. In an instant, I had melted into him, and my hands tangled in the bottom of his shirt. His mouth tasted like whiskey, which felt totally in-character for him, and he carefully nipped at my bottom lip. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Tom whispered, and he pushed my hair from my neck in order to brush his lips against my throat. No guys in my past had ever told me that in such clear terms, and my entire body ran hot at his words. A shiver ran down my spine, and he huffed a laugh into my neck. “Do you like when I say that?”

“I just like the way you talk,” I admitted. “Could listen forever.” 

“That’s an awfully long time,” Tom told me warmly. His slender fingers inched under my shirt to touch my bare skin, and he slid his hands to lay flat against the small of my back. His kisses lingered on my neck, and the feeling of his soft skin was so lovely. “Let’s start with tonight.” 

“I can manage that,” I laughed. “Bed?” 

As soon as I was down in his bed, Tom was working my shirt off. His hands were so strong and sure against me, and I had no hesitations in letting him do whatever he pleased. His kisses trailed down to my stomach and chest once they were bare to him, and the feel of his mouth on my hip made me take a fistful of those pretty brown waves of his. He just laughed and continued his pursuit downwards, and he rid me of my jeans and panties before pausing and looking up at me. “Is this alright?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” I said. “Just… Yeah.”

“Good girl,” Tom whispered, and I swore I died right there. He took my leg in his strong grip and kissed my inner thigh, and he placed the softest kiss to my quivering cunt. I immediately knew that I was in good hands, and I let my body relax and submit to Tom. His shoulders nudged my legs open further as he pressed his warm tongue to my wetness, and I bit back a moan as I tried to keep my legs from closing. I was already shaking, which was honestly embarrassing, but Tom didn’t seem to mind. In fact, it seemed to encourage him, because he placed a series of sloppy kisses to my throbbing clit that made me squeal. Then, his mouth went straight to where I was leaking, and an obscene slurping filled the air. Fuck, he was good. 

“Oh my God,” I whispered, and his fingers quickly joined his tongue. First one, then two, then his thumb met my clit, and I whimpered. “Oh, fuck, oh my God.” 

“No need to call me that,” Tom whispered. His breath was hot against my wet cunt, his voice raspy, and I couldn’t help the fluttering that enveloped his fingers. “Just my name will do for now.”

The combination of his fingers and mouth made my stomach quiver, and I knew that it wouldn’t be long before I came. I had never come just from being eaten out, and my heart raged against my ribcage when I dared to imagine what came next. His thumb moved slowly around my clit, and his mouth replaced it as his fingers moved in me deliciously. His tongue, so skilled and quick, took up his thumb’s previous job, and he took the throbbing bud into his mouth and quickly nipped it with his teeth at the same moment that his fingertips found home inside me. 

There was no hope of obscuring my moan. “Fuck!” I yelped, writhing in his grip. “T-Tom, fuck.”

“Do you wanna come?” Tom whispered, looking at me through his eyelashes. “Use your words, my darling, please.” 

“Please, please,” I gasped. My head fell back to expose my neck, and I squeezed my eyes shut. My breathing was ragged, and a shock of electricity raced through my whole body when he laughed into my cunt. 

“Such a needy girl,” Tom chuckled. “You don’t have to ask. Whenever you’re ready, just let me know.” 

He lapped at my wet cunt, tasting me like he had dreamt of this, and my hand went from his hair to his shoulder. His waves and curls fell into his eyes, but he kept at his work, even when I pushed at his shoulder. “Tommy,” I whimpered out helplessly. “I-I’m gonna-- You--”

“My darling,” Tom said. “I want you to come on my tongue. Let me taste you, babygirl. Come for me.” 

My bottom lip was bitten nearly raw, and it only became worse when he said that. I nearly tasted blood as he gave my cunt one last kiss, so much more gentle than what he had been doing before, and my hips stuttered as hot pleasure pulsed through every part of me. I grabbed handfuls of his shirt and tugged him close, and he came to lay with his hips between my legs. My vision was blurry with tears as I studied him, oh so close to me now, and I felt a tiny pride at his pink cheeks and glistening lips. That was all me. “Oh, thank you,” I whispered, and he sweetly kissed each of my cheeks. “That was so good.” 

“I’m glad,” Tom said. “Secretly, I pride myself in being able to do that.” 

“You should be proud of that,” I huffed. “Also… ‘my god’?” 

“That was in jest,” Tom began with a light laugh. 

“I know,” I said. My hands trailed up his back, hiking his shirt up to his shoulders, and he helped me in tugging it off. He shook his hair out once it passed his head, and I added, “It’s a fitting name, though.” 

“Really?” He asked, bracing himself above me. “Am I a god, Y/N?”

“Close to it,” I told him. I noticed the way that my hands were trembling as I went to his belt, and he must have noticed as well, because his hands went to my wrists. His hands fit all the way around my wrists easily. It wasn’t rough or dominating by any means; his hands slid up from my wrists to grasp my hands, fingers interlocking with mine as he pressed my hands down beside my head. 

“Take a deep breath, my darling,” Tom told me gently. His thumb made comforting circles on my hand, and my stomach went all fluttery at how serene it was. “You’re shaking so hard. Do we need to stop?” 

“No,” I told him. “I’m alright. I promise.” 

“Alright,” Tom said. “Let me know if we need to stop.” 

I nodded quickly, reaching for a handful of his hair, and I tugged him down to kiss me. I could taste myself on his mouth and, normally, that would have irked me, but with Tom, it only made my thighs tense and warmth spread through my body. My skin rippled at each touch of his fingers, and I let out little mumblings of his name as he kissed my neck and shoulders. 

A surge of boldness ran up my spine, and I moved my hands from where he had placed them back down to his belt. As it seemed was the norm, he was two steps ahead of me, because he was already in the process of leaning back and pulling off his pants. The bedroom was cast only in the soft light of the lamp beside the bed, but I still captured every freckle, hair, and ridge on Tom’s firm chest and stomach. He was the definition of the skinny white guy that had good dick. Or, at least, he gave good head. But someone that good at giving head had to be as skilled elsewhere, right? 

He was back on me in an instant, kissing my neck and making little marks on my skin as I shoved his pants down his thighs. Tom’s hands captured my legs and drew them around his naked waist, and I gasped aloud when I felt his hard cock brush against my cunt, already throbbing once more. In fear of seeming dumb, I didn’t intentionally look, but I could feel the weight of his cock against my body, and I stuttered, “God, Tommy..” 

“That impressive, huh?” Tom laughed.  

“Of course,” I remarked. “What, have you never been told you have a big cock before?”

Tom lifted his head from my neck, and I let out a giggle at his blown-wide pupils and red cheeks. “Where the hell have you been all my life?” He asked with a smile. He laughed, and I noticed the way that wrinkles formed right by his eyes with the extremity of his smile. That was adorable as hell. “You’re gorgeous and so funny, and you’re complimenting me like this? You’re perfect.” 

“I’ve just been waiting for you, I guess,” I shrugged and ran my hands over his built arms, rock solid like a statue. 

“Sorry it took me so long to find you,” Tom smiled. “Traffic was a bitch.” 

I laughed, my head falling back onto the pillows, and Tom situated the head of his cock at my folds. At the feel of it, I gasped, and he swallowed my gasp with a kiss. “Let me know if we need to stop,” he reminded me, kissing my chin gently. 

“I’m fine,” I told him, even though I was shaking so fiercely. Tom sank himself into me, and the deep rumble of his moan made my back arch up against him. “Fuck, darling,” he mumbled. “Cunt’s so tight… Squeezing the hell outta me.” His fingers dug into my hip, surely leaving bruises to later admire, and he snapped his hips forward so that he was fully in me. 

“More,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure what I wanted more of; I just knew that I wanted more of whatever he ended up giving me. 

My whole body thrummed with blood and life as he fucked me, pausing to pant into my neck and kiss my mouth. His back was taut with hard muscles and I raked my fingers down to his waist and back up to his hair. A curl had escaped the rest of his hair and bounced against my forehead with each thrust, and Tom and I each huffed out a laugh at it. Silently, I reached up and twisted the perfect curl around my finger, and Tom gave me another eye-wrinkling smile.

“F-Fuck, darling,” Tom muttered, and I could tell by his stuttering that he was close. The rhythm of his hips had slowed, but his grip on my waist and legs was as tight as ever. “So fuckin good for me, God.” 

“I’m getting close again, Tommy,” I told him, my voice shaking. I’m sure he already knew, what with the way my chest was hot and my breathing was erratic, but I still wanted to see the look on his face when I said it.

“Oh, me too, my darling,” Tom whispered. His hand fell from its place at my hip and came to rest on my stomach, just above the point where he had himself buried inside me, and his thumb-- that damned thumb of his-- slid down until he was playing with my clit once more. There was an urgency this time, though, his movements quicker and messier. With each thrust, his own belly quivered, and I desperately pulled at his hair. I needed him to come first. I needed to feel him spill himself inside of me. I needed to feel his cum leak out of me, to hear him laugh at the mess we made like I knew he would. I needed so much. I just needed him.

“Tommy,” I whimpered, keening into his touch. “Fuck, Tom--”

His lips crashed into mine, and that was all it took. My legs shook around his waist, and my vision went white-hot for a moment. His thrusts were messy, his waves and curls completely undone and hanging in his eyes, and he watched with a greedy gaze as I writhed under him. I pulled his head down into my neck and he resumed his work of nipping my skin and soothing the sting with his tongue, and I kissed the shell of his ear. “Oh, Tom,” I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear over the sounds of our shared gasps. “Please, for me?” 

He pulled himself from me and was spilling in an instant, covering my waist and stomach in his warm cum. He settled himself on his elbows above me once again, and I took care to brush those waves off of his forehead. His hair had gone super curly with the little bit of sweat on his forehead, and I bit the tip of my tongue. “Yeah?” I whispered. 

“Yeah,” Tom agreed. “Let me get you a towel. Stay right there.”

“Wasn’t really planning on going anywhere, honestly,” I laughed. 

When he returned, he was wearing a pair of boxers and a t-shirt that hugged his muscled frame. He sat beside me and carefully wiped me clean with the wet corner of a towel, and he placed a sweet kiss on my forehead. “Are you feeling alright?” Tom asked. “Can I get you anything?” 

“I’m fine,” I told him. “Thanks, though.”

“No worries,” Tom told me. “You’re welcome to stay the night, if you’d like. I must warn you, though, that I like to cuddle.” 

“I would have expected nothing less,” I told him. I sat up, testing my legs for a moment, and my cheeks went hot. “Umm… I don’t think I can walk.” 

Tom’s eyes went big for a moment, and he reached for me with a hesitant hand. “Are you kidding?” He asked. 

“My legs are shaking too hard,” I whispered and bit my lip. 

“Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry,” Tom told me, his eyebrows pitching up. “I truly didn’t mean to hurt you--”

“You didn’t,” I said quickly. “It’s… This is a good thing. I promise.” 

There was a brief exchange that ended with Tom giving me a shirt to sleep in and me promising him that I won’t try to walk until my legs quit shaking. We found each other again once in bed, my head fitting snugly under his chin, and his fingernails lightly scratched up and down my back. The feel of his strong arms around me, holding me in such a protective way, lulled me to sleep. 

The night passed under a thin veil of dreams. All too soon, an alarm began to blare, scaring me fully awake in a second. From the darkness, there was a groan of displeasure, and a grunt as the bed squeaked and shifted, and the alarm was turned off with a solid stab of a finger. “Sorry, darling,” Tom whispered. “I forgot I have an early morning today.” 

“You’re fine,” I whispered. The lamp turned on, and I was met with Tom, his hair messy and frizzy, his face flushed with good sleep. I stretched my arms above my head, allowing a quick squeal, and I said, “I should probably be heading out soon too. I have an eight AM.”

“Ugh,” Tom groaned. “I hate those.” 

“Right,” I agreed. “Who wants to learn at eight in the morning?”

“The poor instructor,” Tom laughed. His voice was lower than before, scratchy as well, and my chest warmed at the sound. He fixed his hair out of his face, and he turned to see me, still wrapped up in his shirt and blankets. “You look cozy.” 

“I am,” I said softly. “Wish I could stay for just a little longer.” 

“Pursuit of knowledge is an honorable one, though, darling,” Tom told me. “Would you like to shower first?” 

“No,” I said. “I have to go by my apartment to get my stuff and change clothes anyway, I’ll just shower there.” 

“Alright,” Tom nodded. He reached for me and I met him halfway, brushing my lips to his in a soft kiss, and he gave me a light laugh. “I need to get your phone number. I’d love to do this again.” 

“I’d like that too,” I said. I gave him a parting kiss, then worked myself from the bed. I stretched once more, feeling my back pop, and I found my bag by the door to the bedroom. I gave Tom my phone, open to a new contact listing, and he gave a mischievous smile before plugging in his information. “What’s that smile all about?” 

At the top of my screen, it read Big Dick Tom. 

“Oh, God,” I laughed. “That’s really gone to your head, hasn’t it?” 

“You’re the one who told me that,” Tom argued. “And, if someone tells you that you have a big dick, you take that shit to heart.” 

“Sure, sure,” I said quickly. “I’ll text you; maybe we can get dinner this weekend?”

Tom gave me a smile that was fit for a king. “Of course, my darling girl.” 

Tom ended up sending me home with the shirt I had slept in. It was for some carpentry school in Wales, but it was soft and smelled like Tom, so I didn’t really mind the odd reference. Just before I left, he had swept me up in his arms and kissed me, and he pressed his forehead to mine. “This might be premature,” he whispered. “But do you wanna be my girlfriend?” 

Zendaya slapped a five dollar bill in my hand when I entered the apartment. “Did you have a good time?” she asked.

“The best,” I told her. “He’s super sweet and a great time, and he asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“You said yes, right?” Zen asked.

“Duh,” I scoffed. “A hot Brit who likes me? I’m not letting that go.”

“Right,” Zen said, and the smile dropped from her face. “Well, while you were off getting dick from your new man, our literature professor dipped.” 

“What?” I asked. 

“Yeah,” Zen said, spinning her laptop to face me. She had an email pulled up from the head of the department, declaring that our professor, our beloved Dr. Osterfield, would not be teaching the course any longer. Buried in the text of the email, it said the name of the replacement professor: Dr. Holland. “I tried to look this guy up, but he’s not on Rate My Professor or anything.” 

“It’s halfway through the fuckin’ semester,” I groaned. “This blows.” 

“I just hope this new guy’s easy,” Zen groaned. “I can’t deal with a hard class right now.” 

The class was still held in the same room as before, and the general air was worse than a normal eight AM. At least, with Dr. O, he had an infectious energy that woke us all up. Nobody knew what to expect with this new guy. I hoped that, for my sake, he was cool. 

The door to the classroom opened, and a man said, “I apologize for the wait. It’s just my luck that I’d be late today…” 

My whole body went cold and my heart stopped. Tom. My boyfriend, my fucking Tom stood at the front of the small lecture hall, wearing the jeans and white buttoned shirt that I had helped pick out. “Well, this is a strange thing, isn’t it?” Tom chuckled, clasping his hands together. “I’ll explain, don’t worry. But first, I think maybe an introduction is in order.” 

He unwound his bag from his shoulder and opened it for a moment, and a whole new wave of dread washed over me. While he was in the shower, I had written him a quick note and stuck it in his bag. It was nothing more than “thanks, love. hope to see you soon xx”, but a smile split his face wide. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Apparently, my girlfriend left me a little note. Hmm! Anyway, I’m Dr. Holland. Call me that, or Tom, or any variation of the above. I promise you, I’ve heard it all.” 

Tom settled himself on the edge of his desk and he fluffed up his hair a bit. It was then that a quiet wave of titters passed through every girl in the hall; a hickey. It was small, but it was there, right under his ear. “I went to school in London, where I’m from, before I got a degree in English literature from Cambridge. Then, I came to the States and managed to get my doctorate in it, and, who’d have guessed it, this is my first teaching job. Go easy on me, huh?.” My little note, written on a sticky note, was clasped in his hand, and I seriously wanted to die right then and there. My professor. I was stupid. Of course the stars had aligned (or misaligned?) to allow this to happen. And just when I thought I found the right guy, too. 

“Right,” Tom said. “Let’s look at the attendance, see what we’re working with, and I’ll let you guys fill me in on what Dr. Osterfield was covering.” 

The closer he got to my name, the colder my face went. I hated every single moment of it. “And… Y/L/N? Y/N?” 

I quietly raised my hand, then managed a meek, “Here.” 

His eyes trained on me, and I watched the same recognition flood his eyes. Quickly, though, Dr. Tom Holland averted his gaze back down to his computer, and he said, “There you are, Y/N… Can I see you after class?” 

[lcksndkys]

Title: Official

Pairing:  Namjoon x reader

Rating: 18+, smut, fluff

Genre: secret dating au

Word count: 1,467

Summary:  You can only hide your new relationship from your friends for so long.

Warnings: oral (m. receiving) + a ruined shirt RIP

A/N: This lil smutty piece was written for the ghostie drabble marathon. Song lyrics:  “Because all of this is not coincidence.” (DNA). Inspired by @jinpanman ​ ‘s post about "Namjoon fixing his zipper in the middle of the performance”. Also, by law, tagging @sahmfanficbts <3

You grunt quietly as Namjoon presses you against the wall, mouth sealed tight against yours as he kisses you deeply between racks of clothing.

Hand pressing against his chest, you push his heaving body off yours.

“You have to go on in like,” you look down to check you watch, “15 minutes.”

“Mmm, that’s ok, plenty of time,” comes his low rasp as he continues to lick into your mouth, grinding his hips into yours.

You let him kiss you languidly for another minute, basking in the pre-show privacy. No hiding from curious friends or judgemental peers. Just you and Namjoon for these precious, fleeting moments.

Namjoon had begrudgingly agreed to keeping your relationship private upon your request. What had started as a drunken hookup months ago had evolved into under-the-table hand holding, sneaky kisses, falling asleep on nightly phone calls. 

“Ah, Joon, you- they’re gonna come lookin for you,” you pull back, panting and trying to reason with him.

Instead of replying, he ducks his head burying face first into your neck where he suckles at the soft skin he adores so much.

Whimpering, you claw your fingertips up and down his sides, feeling the silky material of his top. You pull his shirt free from his pants and send your hands underneath to feel his bare skin. 

“Fuck,” you whine. “No marks, Joon” you gasp, feeling the sudden increase in suction against your pulse point, losing himself to the taste of your skin.

You feel the rumble of displeasure in his chest as he yields to your command. 

He knew you were exclusively dating him, but when no one else was privy to that information, it almost seemed negligible. He was tired of biting back his frustrations when your mutual friends would try to set you up on dates. (Not that you would ever agree to any.) He was tired of pretending the two of you weren’t more. He was ready for the world to know about your relationship, but he knew you were still hesitant. 

Namjoon detaches his warm lips from your neck to peck lovingly at your forehead.

Pressed against the length of him, you feel the evidence of his excitement prodding against your abdomen.

“And how exactly do you plan to hide that?” you giggle, cocking an amused brow at him.

He brushes your hair aside and lets his large hand rest against your throat. Possessive, yet gentle.

“Mmm, it’ll go down,” he mumbles as he reattaches his lips to yours. 

Kissing across his mouth and planting a few along his jaw, you make your way to his ear.

“Or I could help you,” you whisper seductively, cupping his clothed erection.

You smirk when you feel Namjoon shiver at your gentle fondling. His body is like a live wire, crackling and exposed at your electric touch.

“Oh shit, I- I can’t return the favor though,” he pants.

“Take care of me after the show,” you purr, hands unbuckling his belt and reaching for the zipper. “You want this?” you ask one last time to which he nods vigorously. 

Impatient, he pushes your hands away to free himself from the confines of his pants. 

You wrap an eager hand around his length and swirl a thumb around his flushed tip. You gather the moisture there and spread it in slow circles around the rim of the head making Namjoon groan deep in his chest. 

You spit generously into your hand to avoid chafing him.

Skin smooth and soft, you pump him quickly to jerk him to his full potential. 

Thunk. Namjoon’s head falls back against the wall, eyes closed in bliss, as you tighten your grip around him.

“Eyes on me, big boy” you whisper, sinking down to your knees for your man.

His gaze follows you all the way down until you settle comfortably between his parted thighs. 

Your hand continues jerking his cock as you pepper open mouthed kisses to his groin and lower stomach. Your otherwise unoccupied hand pins his hips against the wall.

“Love these,” you muse.

Caressing the supple skin of his powerful thighs, you feel him throb wantonly in your hand.

You sink your teeth into the muscle. All pressure, no pain. 

There’s a garbled groan from above you.

“Baby, please,” Namjoon pants, “We don’t have much time”

You inspect his cock as it pulses in your grasp. “Oh, I think you’re only gonna need a few minutes,” you cackle.

An endearing flush spreads across his cheeks, dimples flashing as he chuckles along goodnaturedly. “Well, my girlfriend is very hot,” he argues.

You gulp, trying not to go rigid while holding his length in your hand. Neither of you had explicitly labeled your relationship, opting to silently agree that you were exclusively seeing each other.

Rather than stutter out a response, you stuff his cock deep into the wet heat of your mouth, wrapping your lips around him the way he likes. 

Namjoon’s hands immediately push your hair back and hold it in a makeshift ponytail as you sink down his length. He’s not about to miss the visual of you blowing him.

Holding him by the base, you bob up and down, gagging lightly as he slides down the back of your throat. You try to relax, inviting him into the depths of your mouth and coating him in a sheen of saliva.

“Fuck,” he moans, feeling you increase the suction around his shaft.

Your hand begins pumping what won’t fit in your mouth, suckling around the crown and urging him towards his climax.

“Baby, look at me, eyes up” he pants over you, unraveling quickly with your enthusiastic servicing of his cock.

You lift your heady gaze up to meet his desperate eyes. Brows pinched with his lower lip held hostage between his teeth. He’s so close.

Your mouth focuses on his sensitive tip, hand furiously working his shaft. His legs quake with his impending release.

With an obscene groan, Namjoon cums, erupting in your mouth. You continue to suckle at him, hand slowing down but pumping leisurely to help him ride out his high.

You do your best to hold his load without immediately swallowing the unsavory fluid.

“You know what I wanna see,” he whines, encouraging you to open wide.

Namjoon moans in appreciation, seeing his seed fill your mouth as you swipe your tongue through his cum to lick at your lips. You swallow most of it and let the rest dribble down your chin and onto your chest.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Namjoon-ah! Are you still changing?” comes the tinkling of Jin’s voice.

Fuck. 

You urgently flip through the rack of Namjoon’s clothing to find something to clean up with. Pulling a semi-plain shirt from its hanger, you wipe down his wilting cock and leave him to tuck himself back into his briefs as he pulls up his pants.

Cleaning off your mouth and chin and the residual cum off your chest, you haphazardly replace the top on its hanger and try to shake feeling back into your feet.

You check your watch again. Six minutes to show time. You smirk.

“Break a leg, bubs” you smile up at him and push him toward the door with a parting good-luck-kiss.

You watch happily from backstage as the group performs another stellar show. The crowd cheers when Namjoon makes a joke about his opened fly. Choreography and vocals all flow smoothly as the night unfolds, leading up to the final few songs.

The seven men pile into the dressing room for a final change for the encore when there’s a ghastly shriek.

“What the actual fuck,” Jin hollers. 

Several pairs of eyes look over to Jin as he gingerly inspects an article of clothing.

Oh no.

No, no, no.

Jin looks from his soiled shirt, to you, and back down to the shirt he’s supposed to change into.

You had forgotten you had worn lipstick tonight. And it was smeared all over Jin’s top along with residual ejaculate and spit that had begun to flake as it dried.

Incriminating at best, evidence at worst.

“What’s your lipstick and whateverthefuckthisis doing on my shirt? Why was Namjoon’s zipper down all through the first half of the show? And why did Namjoon-ah get all pissy when I tried to set you up with Sejin-hyung last week?” he fires off suspiciously, eyes darting back and forth between the two of you.

The room falls dead silent and all you hear is the pounding of blood between your ears.

“Because all of this is not coincidence,” Jin continues, gesturing wildly.

“I'm with Namjoon,” you confess quietly. 

The room erupts in hoots and hollers, I told you’s, and all you see is Namjoon beaming at your admission, happy to finally love you officially and publicly.

[ryeimagines]

Anchor - Liam Dunbar Imagine

Based on this prompt. Word count 1496. I’m not really sure about this one but I hope that you enjoy it. I’m a bit rusty, getting back into the swing of things so please be kind. You can kind of see it as a pre slash, up to interpretation. 

The banging on your window woke you from your slumber, a soft moan escaping your throat as you suddenly found yourself on the floor instead of the comfortable you remembered falling asleep in. Dazed you slowly rose on your feet, it took you a minute to remember what had woken you in the first place. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for the occasional nightly visits from your best friend, spending more time in your bedroom than in his own house to the point you had a routine in place. Things weren’t always so easy though, it took a while for him to be comfortable enough to stay around, let alone fall asleep. You knew he had anger issues which often got him into trouble.

That was, before he suddenly did a one eighty out of no-where and pulled the disappearing act on you, always finding excuses to not hang out, or forgetting plans you’d made. It had been weeks since he set foot in your room, and frankly you were getting close to losing it. You knew something big had happened and what was hurt the most wasn’t even the fact that he suddenly had a new group of friends he hung out with or forgetting about you, it was the fact that your best friend was hurting and you couldn’t do anything to help, he didn’t tell you about it. And now here he was, showing up out of nowhere after ghosting you like nothing ever happened.  

“What do you want Dunbar?”You tried your best to sound indifferent, but it fell a bit short. A pained noise made you turn around to face him.

“Liam.” The brief rush of relief of seeing him with your own two eyes was overtaken by a wave of fear meeting his gaze, finally taking full notice of his state, eyes glowing yellow. He growled, unwittingly making you take a step back in response. Something was seriously wrong. You’ve seen him mad before, in every kind of emotion really but never anything like this. He looked wild, animalistic, ready to tear someones’ throat out. It was the first time you had ever been afraid of him, sensing the danger that you were in. But it was still your best friend, no matter what he did, or whatever strange new stuff he was into. Whatever it was, you could fix this, you wouldn’t leave him. Which is why you went against your gut and stepped into his personal space, inches from his face without breaking his gaze, moving slowly not to startle him.

“Liam, I-”You faltered for a second, not sure what to say. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, or why you have claws all of the sudden, believe me that’s something we will discuss later, but something is up with you and I need you to snap out of it. This isn’t you. You are Liam Dunbar, my best friend, one of the kindest and most loyal people I know. I know you’re not going to hurt me, you can’t.” A soft whine came from the boy in front of you and you took it as encouragement to slowly raise your hand and touch his cheek, fingers brushing against the sharp fangs that were coated in crimson. 

“Come back to me. I need you. Whatever this is you’re going through, we can work it out together. I’m right here. Always. You’re not a bad person, you’re not a monster. You have a choice. I know you will do the right thing, you always do.” Please, come back to me. 

You were surprised by fingers gently brushing against your wrist, opening your eyes to meet familiar pools looking back at you with apprehension and pain and something you couldn’t quite put a name on. Your body moved on instinct and you found yourself clinging onto him before you knew what you were doing. After the shock had worn off, your brain started buzzing with unanswered questions that you had put on hold until now, begrudgingly untangling yourself from his arms. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.” He smiled sheepishly, fidgeting with his shirt. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you or anything?”

“I’m fine.” You assured him, glad he couldn’t see the bruises that would most likely appear soon on your arm where he grabbed it a little too tight at some point.

“What’s going on with you? Don’t you dare give me that nothing bull. You came in here soaked and covered in blood. I’m hoping it isn’t yours by the way. What the hell is going on?”

“It’s a long story. You should probably sit down.” You did, sensing the seriousness in his voice. 

“Okay so, werewolves, very much real.” 

That was your introduction to the supernatural world, and everything werewolf. That was quite the shock, you were glad you heeded his advice. He kept sending you looks through out his explanation and you urged him to keep going, you needed to know it all. That was a lot to take in, part of you were mad that he didn’t come to you sooner about this, but more than anything you were afraid. Terrified. For him, of all these people and supernatural creatures who wanted to hurt him. You were thankful to Scott for saving his life but also pissed that he put him in danger like this, which you weren’t shy to let him know the first time you joined Liam at one of their pack meetings, introducing his face to a bat. 

“You better keep him safe McCall. If he get’s hurt out there, it’s on you.” He nodded quietly nursing his bloddy nose, recognising the truth in your words. “Good, we understand each other.” You grinned, a little satisfied at the gleam of fear in his eyes. 

“You’re going to fit in perfectly.” Lydia snorted, gesturing for you to come over to join her. “I could use some help with this research, these ingrates are no help whatsoever. ” 

“Hey!” Stiles interjected from where he was laying on the couch, eyes still glued to the screen. “I helped. I’m just taking a break.”

“I’d love to.” You ended the conversation there before it got any further, returning Liam’s smile before burying your head in the books. It was all you did for the next couple of days, researching everything supernatural. Lydia introduced you to the bestiary, containing every possibly nightmare you could imagine. When you weren’t researching, you spent the time interrogating the pack and asking questions. You made it clear from day one that you two were a package deal, wherever Liam went you followed. The younger Hale was the only one who protested your precedes, letting out a disgruntled growl from where he was lurking. You ignored him. Apparently his uncle was even worse, you weren’t to keen to find that out for yourself though.

There was one thing that kind of bothered you, that kept on creeping up on you when you least expected it. Remembering that night, and the state he was in, and then being totally fine again. Actually, there was a couple of things but you hadn’t talked about it. Part of you was hesitant, but the other was growing more impatient each day and that was the one that finally won out one afternoon a couple of weeks after the incident took place. It just kind of came out, you were not really a person of tact, blurting it out over the kitchen table at dinner, causing him to start coughing like crazy. 

“So why did you show up in my room exactly? I mean, I get that you went kind of feral, but why did you show up here? Did you meant to do that?”

“Uh.” He shrugged, finally collecting himself. “I don’t know, it wasn’t really a conscious choice. I just felt this instinct to run to safety. Home.”

“My house?”

“No, I was running to you. There’s something about you that helps me stay in control. My wolf feels safe around you. I remember them trying to talk to me but it didn’t work. Only with you.”

“Oh.”

“I talked with Scott about it, and what he said made sense. I didn’t really know how to tell you so I just kept quiet about it but. You’re my anchor.” You sat speechless, wondering how he could be so calm about this new development, like it wasn’t a big deal. You had stumbled across anchors before during your deep dives, and there was a lot to it. You weren't sure if you should feel happy or terrified at the prospect that he put so much fate in you, essentially his humanity in your hands. 

“Why me?” You finally managed, voice hoarse. 

“It’s always been you, you were always there. Who else would it be? I trust you, I need you. Me being a werewolf means a lot of changes, but not that. You’re the one thing I’ve never doubted.”

[talkfastromance4]

Are lily ,posy and Oliver helpings daddy deal with the stress of the album coming out in two days?

How about momma? Maybe a bj to help him relax?

I love this ask so so so much because you made it into the Luke&Lily universe 🥺 and the last part is *chefs kiss* I hope you like it!💕

***

With the album only two days away, Luke wanted to have one last listening party with everyone over at the house. You were more than ecstatic to abide that because he's been nervous ever since he announced a solo album release.

The two of you spent many late nights discussing it, more of you encouraging him to write his heart out. Ashton helped as much as he could as hype man as well considering he released an album almost a year ago now.

You were all gathered around the fire pit outside letting Luke's ethereal voice serenade you into the summer evening. Lily and Posy loved to dance to his songs, they twirled and did their own version of a ballerina's pirouette.

You were sat on Luke's lap watching the girls dance and everyone else's reaction to his heart coming through. Ashton had his head pointed to the stars alternating his eyes from open to close humming along to the choruses. Calum sat forward with his elbows on his knees staring into the fire, Luke's words resonating with him on a deeper level.

Crystal held Oliver in her arms, a soft smile on her face as she rocked with the ballads. Michael had his arm around her, staring at Oliver with a look of concentration and admiration.

"This is what I had trouble with at this next bit," Luke murmurs in your ear. His arms tighten around your waist, his lips move against your shoulder when he speaks.

You listen intently but in your ears, it's all perfect and beautiful. You know this album backwards and forwards. When the kids were asleep you'd listen to all of his alternate ideas. It made you warm inside that he wanted to share this with you, this project that was just Luke; soft, tender, real.

Halfway through, Lily climbed onto Calum's lap and listened quietly with the rest of them. Posy snuggled with Ashton, she played with his bracelets on his wrists humming along to her daddy's voice.

When the album ended there was a moment of silence. Luke squeezed you again, his breath hitching and then everyone clapped.

"It's sensational, mate, well done," Ashton shakes his head.

"Yeah, it's perfect," Calum agrees.

"Thanks," Luke sighs keeping cover behind your shoulder. "I've been feeling like I'm going to throw up all week."

"Everyone's going to love it, Luke," Michael adds.

"That's what I've been telling him," you smile at him proudly. You brush back a curl from his face. "It's beautiful, babe, truly."

It wasn't very long until Posy and Oliver became fussy. Posy was clinging to Luke and Oliver's cries were of the sleepy kind. With hugs and kisses and more words of encouragement, they all left.

You could see the stress in Luke's shoulders as the two of you did the nightly routine with all three kids.

"Does this mean you'll be leaving sooner?" Lily asks him as he brushes her hair.

"Leaving? Where am I going, sweets?"

"With Uncle Cal, on tour," she's playing with the ears of her pink bunny. The pink bunny Luke gave her when he first met her.

"Oh. No, I won't be leaving. This record is more like...it's like a diary," Luke explains. "It helps me sort out my thoughts and feelings and music helps as well."

"I want a diary."

"I'll get you one," he smiles setting her brush down and kisses the top of her head. "Into bed, my sweet."

Oliver is in your arms and Posy is hanging onto your fingers as you enter Lily's room. Luke tucks her in kissing her forehead.

"Sweet dreams sweet Lily," he murmurs. "I love you."

"Love you dada," she smiles.

Posy hugs Lily goodnight and Luke scoops her up in his arms, her head falls heavily on his shoulder.

"Your turn for bed, love bug," Luke tells her and you follow them into her room.

Posy sets her in her toddler bed, making sure her purple elephant is right next to her. You're patting at Oliver's butt when he makes a noise listening in to the short story Luke is telling Posy. This one was about a fairy Princess named Posy who loved to dance and dream.

"Sometimes, she would sleep on a star," Luke's voice is hushed, his hand stroking over the top of her head. "And it would take her high in the sky so close to the moon. The moon watched over the fairy Princess Posy until the sun came and woke her up with a warm kiss."

"I think she's out," you whisper. Luke kisses her cheek then you give him Oliver to hold.

"Goodnight my Posy girl," you whisper and kiss her forehead.

You leave her door open a crack then move into Oliver's nursery. He's already been asleep for a while so Luke sets him in his crib gently. You let him talk to his son for a moment and hold out your hand when he turns around. Luke takes your hand warmly in his bringing it to his mouth for a kiss.

"I love you," he whispers, baby blues steady on yours.

"I love you."

You thought you'd be getting ready for bed and fall asleep together but Luke mentioned he left something outside. You shrug it off and did your own nightly routine waiting for him to return.

Thirty minutes went by and Luke still wasn't in bed with you. You make sure to grab the baby monitor before you go to find him. Sure enough, he's downstairs in his music room, the sounds of his album luring you closer and closer.

Luke's sitting on the couch, his arms spread along the back of it with his head against the wall. His foot is bouncing with the beat and he's singing along quietly to himself.

You can feel his nerves from the doorway and an idea sparks in your mind. You close the door behind you in case the girls wake up but they're out like lights so you're pretty sure they won't come in here. Oliver's monitor is placed on a pile of records and you move in front of Luke on the floor. You touch his knee delicately.

"Hey," he mumbles, his head still pointed towards the ceiling.

"What're you doing down here all by yourself?" you ask touching his other knee. You're silently rubbing up his legs in a soothing way.

"Thinking. I can't believe this is gonna be heard in two days," he rubs his face with his hand.

"You know what I think?" you ask stretching up over his legs, your palms sliding up his thighs to the center of his crotch. You stroke your thumb over his clothed dick in a teasing manner and that gets his attention. His head perks up.

"I'd love to know what you think, lovie," he exhales watching you.

With your eyes on his, you rub over his growing bulge until you think it becomes a bit uncomfortable.

"I think," you undo his pants and tug them down, down, down to his ankles. He helps kicking them off. You're still rubbing at his hips, and you press butterfly kisses to his thighs, up, up, up. "I think you need to relax."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," you nod grabbing his fully hard dick in your palm. You stroke him slightly and you nip at his love handle loving the way his stomach clenches. "And I think I can help."

"I think you can, too," he smiles.

You turn your head to kiss his hip, then leave open mouthed kisses up his shaft until you're at the tip. You bat your eyes at him as you close your lips around his head, swirling your tongue over him. Your hand moves down with your mouth as you swallow him as far as you can.

"Oh, baby," he moans. His hand flies to your hair, not adding pressure but just to hold you. You hum at his moan as you lift your mouth off him only to go back down again.

Your mouth and hand work in tandem until he's slick with your spit then you fondle his balls with your fingers.

"Fuck, lovie, just like that. Mm," he moans again lifting his hips to meet your mouth.

"Like that?" you ask and he gasps at the vibration of your words. "You're so good, baby. Everyone's going to love your album."

"Don't talk about the album now," he nearly whines, "just keep--ah doing what you're doing."

You smile and bob your head back down, gagging slightly when his hips meet your throat. Luke's thighs clench beneath your fingers and you know he's close so you start to move faster.

"Lovie, lovie, lovie, lovie," he pulls you off him and onto his lap.

"I wasn't done," you protest.

"I want you."

A shared desire is exchanged in both your eyes and you both work quickly to remove your shorts and underwear. Luke guides himself inside of you and you slip over him easily.

"Look at me, lovie," he whispers.

When you do, he takes hold of your hips and thrusts heavily into you, you gasp loudly.

"Shh, shh, c'mere," he silences your gasps with his own mouth.

You rock your hips with him enthusiastically, feeling the pleasure rise up your neck and down to your toes. You're a mess of heated breath and pants, movements becoming jerky.

"Come with me, lovie...let me feel you," he murmurs. With a final snap of his hips, you cry out against his lips and he lets out a loud groan as he fills you up with warmth.

"Luke," you sigh resting your body heavily against him. When you say his name he smiles against you because what you really said was 'I love you.'

"I love you, too, Y/N. Thank you for being my everything."

"You're my everything," you frame his cheeks in your hands. "I'm so proud of you."

**

Taglist: @calumance  @in-superbloom @calpalirwin @karajaynetoday @wiiildflowerrr @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie @suchalonelysunflower @hoodhoran @Fobodob @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sunshineeashton @ashtonsunflower​ @mymindwide​ @itjustkindahappenedreally @seanna313 @fivesecondsofonedirection @mulletcal @pandaxnienke @prentisswrites @princesslrh

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Go Go Let's Go! Let's Go! Dateko! (Pt 2. Smut)

⚠️THIS FIC IS 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI ⚠️

Warnings: swearing, gross amount of fluff, oral sex (female and male receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cum play, cum eating, implied shower sex

Word Count: 7,000 +

Kenji refused to tell you where the tournament was in hopes that you would just not show. But you knew better. Not only would you get to see your son play but lord that coach!

You wandered into the Date Tech section as you lean over the railings. The team is gathered around the bench ad the coach is giving them a pep talk before the game

"Futakuchi you're mom came" Obara laughs as he nudges Kenji.

"Please don't make eye contact with her it will only encourage her" he says as he places his hands on his face.

Coach Oiwake turns to see you beaming as you wave to the team. He gives you a small nod and a smile as you blush and take your seat.

"Miss Futakuchi?" A voice from besides you says.

"Oh Moniwa! It's so good to see you!" You smile as you wave to the other boys.

The boys look at you as Moniwa introduces you "this is Futakuchi's mom! Miss Futakuchi, this is Kamasaki and Sasaya both former third years on the team."

"It's so nice to meet you boys! I'd like to apologize for my idiot son's ignorance as an underclassmen. He deserves to feel the pain of being team captain" you say as you smile to the boys.

The game progresses quickly as you catch glimpse of the coach looking up at you when he is able to spare a second. You catch his eyes smiling at him.

Kamasaki whispers to Moniwa and Sasaya "damn coach has got it out for Futakuchi's mom. You see those looks." 

 Moniwa rolls his eyes "come on man knock it off"

He looks to you ad he sees his former coach staring right at you

"Ok you right" Moniwa says as Kamasaki crosses his arms laughing.

After the game you proceed the hallway to wait for the boys with the third years. Kenji and the team walk up to you as Kenji rolls his eyes and buries his face.

"Oh knock it off Kenji. You act like I'm the most embarrassing thing in your life" you say as the third years and the team laugh.

"Mom notice how no other parents are here? That's because they care about their kids reputations" he says as he glares at you.

"Awe baby I care. Just not enough" you say as you laugh walking past the boys.

"Good game guys" you say waving as you round the corner.

You walk straight into coach Oiwake as he's reviewing his notes.

"Oh Y/N. I'm so sorry I didn't see you there" he says flustered

"Oh gosh it was all me! I'm such a klutz" you says laughing awkwardly.

"Say thanks for coming out to support the team. I know the boys appreciated it" he smiles.

"Everyone but Kenji" you chuckle as he laughs.

"I'm sure Futakuchi enjoyed it too. He's just into his roll as captain" coach says as he looks down.

"Say Y/N I was wondering" he says as he scratches the back of his head "would you like to have coffee sometime?"

You smile softly "of course Takuro! Only if we don't tell Kenji."

"Deal" he says as he smiles at you.

You started seeing Takuro as often as you could. You could talk nightly on the phone and see each other when you could. It helped that Kenji was the team captain and had his own active social life. Still it was hard to sneak away without him noticing.

You had been secretly seeing Takuro for a few weeks. Things were getting pretty steamy between the two of you. You had several heated makeout sessions with Takuro but nothing even went further. You always had to leave because Kenji expected you home and you already hated lying to your son about your relationship with his coach.

Takuro had asked you to spend the night with him the week prior and you had agreed. All you needed was a plan to convince Kenji of your absence. You start pondering as you begin preparing lunch. You had to tell him something as go why you wouldn't be home. He knew you didn't work this weekend so that wasn't good enough.

"Hey mom I won't be home this weekend" Kenji said as he rushed into the kitchen

well shit that was easy

"Oh where are you going" you question.

"Obara invited me to a party tonight and them tomorrow we are having a game with the third years. Those losers keep hanging around so we might as well put them to use" Kenji says as he chuckles.

You laugh "ok well don't do anything I wouldn't do"

"Geez mom don't set the bar too high. You literally use to sneak out of grandma and grandpa's house all the time" he laughed

"Hey HEY" you say trying to stay serious "ok yeah I was an awful kid. Go be free my child". You wave Kenji off as he bids you goodbye.

You smile as you text Takuro that you will be over tonight. You tell him your going to run to the store to grab ingredients to prepare dinner for the two of you.

As the night approaches you leave for Takuro’s house. You arrive at the store as you begin to shop. Suddenly a hand snakes around your waist as a face presses to your neck.

"I SWEAR TO GOD I HAVE A TASER" you scream as the voice laughs.

"I can't ever be cute can I?" Takuro laughs as you calm down from your near heart attack.

"Well not if you're going to stalk me! Jesus Takuro" you huff.

"I couldn't wait to see you sweetheart" he says as he kisses your neck. You giggle as he focuses on your sweet spot. 

 Unbeknownst to you, 2 pairs of eyes watch from outside the store window.

"Futakuchi isn't that your mom?" Obara says as he stops walking outside the store.

Kenji looks up and sees you hugging Coach Oiwake as he kisses your neck.

"What the fuck?" Kenji says angerly.

"Dude let's go before they see us" Obara pushes Kenji past the store window as Kenji feels his face heat with anger.

How could you lie to him?

You grab your groceries as Takuro carries them to your car.

You arrive at Takuro's house as you prepare to exit your car. He runs up to your car door, swinging it open as he grabs you from the seat.

"JESUS CHRIST TAKURO YOUR'RE GOING TO GIVE ME WHIPLASH" you scream as he tosses you over his shoulder, spanking your ass as he carries you inside.

He sets you down as he starts to kiss you deeply, pulling his track jacket off as he pulls your cardigan from your shoulders.

You giggle as he releases you lips and travels to your neck "impatient much? I just got here what's the rush big shoots?"

"Can't wait any longer" he says as he pulls away from you looking at you "you just drive me nuts Y/N. I just need you so bad."

He kisses you neck violently as he grasps you ass pulling you up to him. He signals for you to jump as he carries you to his room.

"Wait the groceries" you say in-between his kisses as his hands start to travel up your tank top.

"It's fine baby" he says as he lightly tickles your skin as he kisses you. He licks your lower lip asking for access as you pull away. You get up on your knees and crawl away from him towards the top of the bed. You sit on your knees and you cross your arms over your chest.

The man is flustered. His head hangs low as his arms rest on the bed, his muscles stretching his white t-shirt.

"No more sir until you get my groceries in" you pout as you look away from him trying to keep a straight face.

"Fuck-ok" he says waving his hand as he walks to your car to retrieve the groceries. You take the opportunity to strip your clothes, revealing your matching lace bra and panties set.

You kneel at the edge I the bed, waiting for Takuro to come back. Your hands resting on your lush thighs.

"Ok baby no-" Takuro begins to say as he walks into his room.

He stops as his eyes literally bulge from his head.

"Fuck" he whispers as he falls falls to his knees at the sight of your gorgeous body clad only in a small amount of fabric.

"D-Do you like it?" You say shyly. It wasn't like you to be self conscious but then again you haven't had sex in years.

Takuro can't speak.

you literally broke the man Y/N. RIP Coach Oiwake Takuro 2021

He just stares as you start to feel self conscious.

He gets up and walks over to you as he leans in front of you face. He smiles at you as he grabs the back of your head pulling you into a heated kiss.

He guides you back on the bed as you toy with the hem of his shirt. He straddles you as he sits up removing his shirt.

Fuck the man is built. For being in his late 40s he's sculpted like a Greek statue. You feel up his chest as he kisses you deeply exploring your mouth with his tongue. He releases you from the kiss as he stares down at you.

"Y/N I'm going fucking worship you baby" he says as he kisses down your neck.

You feel your core heat up as your panties begin to get wetter and wetter with every kiss. You can't help but moan as he reaches your sensitive spots.

He works his way down your chest. He kisses your nipples over your lingerie as he moves the straps down to kiss your shoulders.

"We are going to leave this on because it's driving me insane" he says as he tugs at your bra. The straps down on your lower arms as the cups barely hold your full breasts.

He moves to your stomach as he kisses every square inch. The man is romantic as hell!

"You ready sweetheart" he says as he moves his fingers into your panties.

You nod as you pull your lip between your teeth. You can't believe how wet you are.

Takuro slowly pulls down your panties as a string of your essence glides with the panties.

"Fuck" he says as he rests his head in your thigh "whatever God decided to bless me fucking THANK YOU"

You giggle as he kisses your inner thighs. You moan at the feeling and growing sensation. He looks up at you as he spreads your pussy lips with his fingers and takes a long lick of your wet slit.

You shiver as your back arches. Takuro takes no time diving into his new home.

Fuck you were so wet and you tasted so good.

"Holy shit Takurō. Fuck right there" you screams as your back begins to arch high and higher. You've never had oral like this before.

"Fuck yes yes yes right there keep going. Omg fuck I'm going to cum" you say as you grab his head and push it further into your cunt. You rub your cunt on his face as the rope inside you snaps.

You screams as you cum hard on your lovers face.

Takuro backs up as he kisses your thighs. He slowly inserts two fingers into your already sensitive pussy as he begins to move them.

"Cum again sweetheart. I need more" he says as he pushes two fingers into your sopping wet cunt. You're still riding out the high from your previous orgasm as he leans over, pulling you up to meet him in a deep kiss.

He grabs your hair as he pulls it back exposing the column of your neck to his lips. He probes your cunt faster as you feel yourself building up.

"Ahhh ahh fuck Taku, ah" you cry as he kisses your neck quickening the speed of his fingers.

"Come on baby give me one more and then I'll fuck this tight little pussy. Please give me one more" he says as you feel your core snap as your cunt spasm around his fingers.

You fall back to the bed as he stands up removing his pants. You stare at his long cock with wide eyes.

"I'll be gentle angel" he says as he reaches for a condom.

You shake your head "I want you to cum in my mouth. Fuck me raw and cum in my mouth Takuro" you say seductively as you pull your lower lip into between your teeth.

"Baby you- you can't say shit like that. Fuck" he says as he flips you around to all fours as he lines up his cock.

"Let me suck you please" you say looking over your shoulder with doe eyes.

"Later baby later I-I'm not waiting any longer to fuck you" he says as he slowly starts to push is cock into your wet entrance.

"Holy- Y/N baby you need to relax" he says as he grabs your hips stopping himself from moving further.

"Relax? I haven't been fucked in years and you want me to relax?" You say as you trust yourself backwards impaling yourself on his hard cock.

"Fucking shit Y/N! God dammit I want to last longer than a minute" he shouts as he spanks your ass. You refuse to listen as you propel yourself back to his cock as he tries to hold you off.

"I swear to God if you don't fuck me-" you say as he flips you around standing up and yanking you down to the edge of the bed as you lay on your elbows.

"You'll do what Y/N?" He says in a sadistic voice as he pushes his cock all the way into your cunt in one swift movement.

"Shit" he chokes "God baby this is the tightest cunt" he says as he pulls back, setting a brutal pace as his balls slap your ass.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel every single centimeter of his cock on your inside walls.

"Fuck Y/N baby are you close" he says as he looks down to you.

You're gone. Where even are you Y/N? Come back to earth Y/N!

"Shit baby I'm going to cum soon you feel so fucking amazing. Fuck I'm going to worship this pussy everyday until I die" he chokes

"Oh Takuro, fuck-fuck I'm going to cum please keep going" you manage to say as he pushes forward trying to bring you to orgasm.

You feel your core snap again as the quick rise and fall of your orgasms over sweeps your body.

"Fuck baby are you ready" he says giving you a moment to recover.

He pulls out as you sink to the floor between his legs opening your mouth to receive his juices.

He jerks his cock as you sit with your mouth wide open "Oh fuck Y/N- baby UGH" he says as he shouts rope after rope of cum into your mouth.

You happily accept his gift as he groans and pants, his abs retracting from the intense orgasm. He throws his head back as he finishes and you wipe up the little cum that managed to fall to the side your lips.

He pulls back ad he sees his fluids in your mouth and on your tongue. You close your mouth, reopening to show him that you had swallowed what he had offered to you.

He kneels down to your face as he pulls you into a deep kiss.

"That was the best sex I've ever had" he chuckles as you smile.

"Yeah it was at least a solid 8" you tease as his eyes widen.

"An 8? Well we can't have that now can we. Date Tech strives to be the best so I only accept 10 and above" he says grabbing you as he carries you to the shower.

He fucks you in the shower until your brain is numb. He suck is cock as you make him finish for a second time during your hour long shower. You both emerge completely blissed out and exhausted.

"I’m hungry" you say as you cuddle into his stomach and he pulls up close.

"Well it's a good thing I brought it those groceries" he says.

"You mean the groceries I MADE you bring in" you say looking up at him.

"Well the trip was worth it because look what I came back too" he says as he hoisting you above him to straddle his waist.

[brattylikestoeat]

Tw: rape, abuse, grooming

Hi bratty, I hope you’re doing well tonight. I need some words of encouragement from you or your followers 😓 5 years ago I started dating a coworker who was 15 years older than me, 40 years old. He ended up being a total cokehead scumbag who was married and had several illegitimate children who he was not providing child support for. He was so abusive, bratty….. he fucked with my head, made me degrade myself, raped me almost nightly. He would do so much coke that he couldn’t keep his dick hard and would force me to fuck for hours, it was so painful and if I got mad or cried he just loved it even more. I ended up leaving him 2 years ago when I found out he had been fucking our 18 year old coworker who we had known since she was 15!!! 🤮 Soon after that I ended up reconciling with an old boyfriend (we only broke up bc he moved away). We’re now engaged and living in another state, happier than I’ve ever been, however I suffer from intense PTSD. It’s so bad that I haven’t had sex since I left him, and I doubt I will anytime soon…. I still have nightmares about him but things have been getting better with time. However tonight he text me nowhere from an email address I must have missed when blocking him. It just said “______?” (My name) and I immediately blocked it but I’m just shaken to the core. I know I might be overreacting but I’m so terrified that he could pull the exif data from my pictures (like he showed me when we were together) and find out where I’m living. I told my fiancé and now he wants to buy a gun. I’m so sorry to unload all this on you, I don’t have any friends bc we just moved and all the ones I had before are still affiliated with him and his new girlfriend (the girl he cheated with) so I don’t really talk to them anymore. I guess I just want someone to tell me it’s going to be okay 😥

Hey hun, it’s okay you didn’t unload on me. It’s a scary situation but you did the right thing. You didn’t engage with me and blocked him quickly.

If you do get a gun both you and your current partner need to be trained. While having a gun in a house can be great thing, you need to know how to use it or it becomes another weapon against you.

It’s never to late to get a restraining order against someone. Get a ring camera they also have them for apartments.

It sounds like therapy would be great for you both individually and couple. I was sexually abused when I was younger and I go thru stages where I am very sex repulsed and touch repulsed. Some days just being around men is a lot for me.

Therapy will also help with the PTSD.

Love you nonnie and I’m here if you ever wanna talk. If my inbox is closed you can DM me and everything will always be private.

[aworldinsideaperson]

Accidental Marriage

Word Count: 2,467

Warnings: None that I can think of???

Summary: a spell brings feelings to light.

A/n: This is my first time writing an imagine in a WHILE sooooo… yeah let's see how it goes.

Here ya go @izzytheninja​!

It really had been an accident. Well, sorta. Mostly it was an accident at least on Y/N’s part; and George’s. Fred said it was an accident but as he stared at the two of them he let a devious smirk cross his face, that was until he read the bold print on top of the page and his eyes widened and his smile fell.  “Oh no.” Fred whispered as his head whipped up to look at his brother.

“What is it?” Y/N asked. When she had come to the twins apartment that evening she’d been planning on having dinner and a few laughs with her friends when Fred had suggested trying a spell he’d read about earlier in the week. ‘A binding charm’ he had called it. She’d figured her and George would have their hands stuck together for a few hours but when Fred turned the book around to show them, her heart stopped.

Wizard’s Marriage Spell

“Fred,” George spoke slowly. “Are you saying that you’ve just…”

“Presided over your wedding?” Fred finished, a nervous smile on his lips. “I think so.”

The room was silent, the three of them looking at each other in desperation. Finally Y/N spoke again, “What are we gonna do?” She asked softly, tears beginning to pool in her eyes and George felt his chest ache. Fred handed Y/N the book and the twins watched as she flipped the page back and forth looking for some kind of answer until she read at the very bottom of the page in tiny print

Irreversible magic. Spell only broken by death or similar means.

She handed the book to George and threw her head back against the chair’s backing. Silently George shoved the book at Fred with a glare. Fred looked at the page and gently closed the book. “I take it I won’t be invited to the reception.” Fred gives a smirk then looks at the newly married couple before him. “Sorry,” He mutters. “Just trying to diffuse the tension.”

“We’re twenty!” George and Y/N yell in unison. “I’m not ready to be married yet.” George continues, now flinging his head back on his chair. 

“I wanted to marry for love! Not because of some idiot who chooses not to read!”

“Hey now no need for name calling!” Fred exclaimed, “You agreed to test out some spells.”

“Yeah, when I thought we’d have our hands stuck together not married!” At this Y/N began to tear up as she grew more overwhelmed. George turned to her and felt his heart ache again. Yes it was a shock and he felt it deep into his bones but George had still yearned for her lips to be pressed to his own every night since the firewhiskey induced exchange six months prior. He still thought about the electricity he’d felt shoot through his chest as her fingers had tangled themselves in his hair, the way his fingertips had tingled when they had touched the skin of her hips. A moment over far too soon never to be spoken of again. He hadn’t even told Fred that her smile would make his world stop and her tears made it all come crumbling down. And now here she sat, his now wife, crying because she was married to him, not someone she loved. 

“Clearly, there are a lot of emotions and thoughts going on for everyone right now,” George began slowly, his eyes never drifting from her form in the chair beside him. He watched her shoulders shake as he fought the urge to reach over and take her into his arms. “Why don’t we cool down?” He proposed. “We’ll take a little while, process what happened tonight and then proceed later on with clearer heads.” Y/N nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes then stood quickly. She walked briskly to the door and then out of it before anyone could say another word. George had stood to walk her to the door but once it slammed a deep frown fell upon his lips and he fell back into his chair and slumped. Fred opened his mouth to say something before thinking better of it and slowly making his way into his own bedroom for the rest of the night.

It was three months before the topic was brought up again. George and Y/N had seen each other but only in group settings. They were never in a room with less than three other people and avoided the topic of relationships like the plague. But now, as she stood in the shop waiting for the twins to close up so they could meet some friends out for drinks the tension between the three was palettable. With her back turned Fred looked to his brother and nudged him before scurrying off to the back room. With the encouragement from his brother, George straightened his back and slowly approached Y/N who’s fingers ran across the shelves. He cleared his throat and she looked up at him with wide eyes and a soft half smile. “So I was thinking,” George began, “I know we haven’t talked about it but since we are, for better or for worse, married.” He took a deep breath. “That maybe we should try to make the best of it.” He finished quickly, averting his eyes to the floor

“And what did you have in mind, for ‘making the best of it’?” 

George looked into her eyes and smiled. “I was thinking we could go on a date, who knows maybe we’re perfect for each other and don’t even know it.”

Silence filled the room as she looked away from George and to the shelf on her right. Though all of George’s muscles relaxed when she looked back to him with a smile and nodded. “How’s tomorrow after the shop closes?” 

“Perfect.” He replied with a bright smile.

The next night George had raced through closing up the shop, and he was out the door only 5 minutes after they’d locked up. But after dinner with Y/N, and a long stroll back to her apartment, which had been far on the other side of town, George could hardly contain himself from the joy. Thus, one date to into two, two turned into 4, and 4 turned into every Thursday night, George leaving the shop a half hour early for a dinner date and leaving saturday nights for outings to the muggle movie theater that sometimes left him quietly creeping back into the apartment in the wee hours of the morning. They weren’t intimate, in fact they hadn’t even kissed but they enjoyed each other’s company. It was 3 months since the first date when Y/N came into the shop, just before closing, with a sour expression on her face.

“What’s wrong?” Fred asked, “Georgie here forgot a date?”

“No.” She said, frowning deeper. “My landlord is selling the building and everyone who’s lease is up was told we have until the end of next month to leave.” She laid her head down on the counter with a dramatic huff.

“Why don’t you just do a new lease?” George asked, his eyes still on the till he was counting.

“Because they’re renovating the vacant apartments.” She replied, the voice muffled by her arms that had now come to rest under her head.

“Well do you have a place to go?” Fred questioned, leaning onto the counter.

“Not yet,” She started, lifting her head to look at the twins. “Most of the places within a decent distance of the alley are fully occupied or outrageous. I mean one hundred and sixty-six galleon for a one bedroom? Price gouging!”

“Well I know a place, great location, decent pricing, neighbor is a bit loud but nothing too dramatic.” Fred began with a sly smirk.

“Where?” 

“Upstairs.”

“I don’t know Fred, it’s two bedrooms and they both seem to be occupied unless you two are up for sharing.” She gave a light laugh.

“Actually,” Fred’s smirk grew.  “It’s about to have a vacant room.”

“What?” Y/N and George exclaimed in unison.

“Man that is weird. But yeah Ang and I have been together a while, we get on real well and we thought it’d be beneficial for our relationship if we lived a bit closer, like in the same place. Sorry Georgie I was gonna tell you but slipped my mind.”

“When do you move out?” George asked.

“3 weeks time, beginning of next month. And you’re welcome to move in at the same time if ya like.” 

“Wow Fred, that’s perfect! Thank you.”

“No no you’re doing Georgie here a favor, if you didn’t move in he’d have to find another roommate and knowing his luck Percy would try to move in.” The three of them laughed and agreed on the move dates. George was thrilled at the prospect of living with his wife.

A month later the last of Y/N’s things were moved into the apartment and, though in separate rooms, she and George were living together 7 months post marriage. 

Six weeks later Y/N jolted awake in the middle of the night. Her mind had been filled with death and destruction and walls crumbling onto those she loved. Her eyes were filled with tears as she rose from the bed and padded her way to George’s room. She cracked the door open slowly and crossed to his bed.

“George.” She whispered soft, gently shaking his shoulder. He stirred and looked up at her.

“Yes dear?” He mumbled, closing his eyes again.

“I had a nightmare, can I sleep with you?” Her voice was timid but George nodded and moved back, holding the blanket up for her to snuggle in. With her face snuggled into George’s chest, she drifted off into a safe and peaceful sleep. 

The next night, she went straight to George’s bed.

Slowly their lives began to meld together. The two become more affectionate, good morning kisses, and nightly snuggles on the couch. George learned how she took her morning beverages and Y/N made his lunch before he ran off to work. They began to hold hands as they walked down the street and talk about kids in the quiet of their room at night. Before they knew it two years had passed since that accidental spell. 

Fred and his fiance had come over for dinner, the four of them now sitting around the table chatting. George had pulled Y/N into his lap when she stood up to do the dishes and now she sat on his knee as they all laughed at a joke Fred had made. 

“You know Fred,” George began. “We really have a lot to thank you for.”

“Why’s that?” Fred asked, draping his arm over Angelina.  

Y/N smiled, looking down at her handsome husband. “Well if you hadn’t done that spell we probably never would have gotten to this point.”

Angelina gave them a questioning look, her eyes looking back and forth between her fiance and the couple before them. “What spell?” 

“The marriage spell.” George stated simply.

Angelina’s eyes widened. “The marriage spell?” 

“Yeah like two years ago Fred did the marriage spell on up by mistake.” Y/N answered, unsure as to why Fred had never told his partner about that fateful night.

At this point Fred was unable to keep a straight face and he burst into a fit of laughter.

“What?” George asked, growing irritated at his brother’s behavior. 

“Mate, I didn’t marry you two.” He exclaimed. 

Y/N’s face fell. “You… you didn’t?”

Fred’s laughter continued. “No, I just knew George fancied you after that cheeky kiss you had, I thought maybe a little prank would make you do… this.” He said, gesturing to the two of them. “Don’t tell me you’ve thought you were married this whole time.”

Y/N jumped from George’s lap and with a horrified look at Fred stopped off into the bedroom.

George glared across the table. “Fred. You’re a horrible brother.”

“You got the girl didn’t you?” He said with a smile but shortly after George escorted the two of them to the door alone, his partner still holed up in their bedroom.

That night George and Y/N went to bed beside each other as they did every night even if they barely whispered more than a good night to each other. The next morning George’s side of the bed was empty. 

Y/N padded out into the kitchen to find a full breakfast filling the table and George smiling at her when she entered the room.

“I was just about to come wake you, sit down. I've made all the favorites.” He pulled the chair out for her and pushed it back in as she sat.

“Did you cook or…” She began, placing a bit of toast on her plate.

“I used magic but I did set the table myself.” He smiled,  taking the seat beside her. The two ate in a comfortable silence and as she stood to clear the plates George grasped her wrist gently. Looking over she saw George slip from his chair and onto one knee, her whole face softened.

“Y/N,” He began. “Two and a half years ago I kissed you for the very first time outside that pub in downtown London after a few too many fire whiskeys and I remember thinking ‘How did I wait this long to kiss her?’ All I wanted to do every single day after that was press my lips to yours but we didn’t talk about it again and I figured that you weren’t as interested in me as that night had led me to believe. Then the unthinkable happened, my stupid brother got even stupider, and married us, or at least we’ve spent the last two years thinking that he did.” The two of them chuckled at this point. “But it turned out to be the greatest stupid thing my twin has ever done because these last two years having you as my almost wife have been some of my best. I thought that we had skipped over this part but it looks like I need to turn our anniversary present into something a little bit more so, I’m asking you if you will become my wife by choice and not by accident.” George pulled a dainty ring from his pocket and held it up to her. A wide smile spread across her face and she nodded. George smiled back and slipped the ring onto her finger, jumping up to take her in his arms. 

She pulled away slightly to look up at her fiance then grinning she said, “Let’s splurge on a real officiant this time.”

[lostmousemaid]

Return to St. Ninian’s

A Redwall fanfiction by Lost Mousemaid

Approx. 2,500 words

****** ****** ******

The multitude of freed slaves and rescuers had spent the duration of the day traveling north toward Redwall Abbey, but Matthias knew they would still be unable to make it to his home by nightfall. Matthias and Orlando discussed briefly whether to travel until they reached the Abbey later in the night, but Matthias decided against it.

“We should rest and return home first thing in the morning. There will be a great deal of excitement once we return, so we should all at least have had enough sleep.” Matthias smiled at Mattimeo and placed a paw on his shoulder. He found himself doing this often since they were reunited in Malkariss.

Orlando looked behind him at the creatures following in their wake. The woodlanders appeared much healthier since their rescue, but still they were thin and weary. Every meal he had shared with his daughter he had scooped an extra portion to her while she was glancing away. Still, she was much thinner than when they had shared their home in the mountains. “You make a fine point, warrior. I’m sure we will all enjoy the food from your legendary tables when we arrive in the morning.”

Matthias called to the woodlanders behind them, “My friends! We will travel north a while longer. When we reach the old church of St. Ninian’s we will settle there for the night. The building is running down, but it may be nice to have a roof over our heads tonight. We will return to my home Redwall in the morning, and you are all welcome to call Redwall home too.”

A cheer rose from the creatures at the knowledge that their journey would soon end. Elmtail and Sam spun in circles with excitement. Sam called to his new friend to climb a nearby tree with him to see if they could spot the Abbey from a distance. Jess smiled fondly at the pair as they scurried off the path and rushed up a nearby oak tree, their chattering fading into the foliage above them.

Matthias had seen Mattimeo’s carefree expression change upon mention of St. Ninian’s, but he did not press him at that moment. He motioned to Orlando to give him some space, and the warrior mouse pulled ahead of the group, knowing his son would follow his pace.

Once they were out of range and could not be heard by those behind them, Matthias asked, "What’s the matter, Matti?”

Mattimeo opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it firmly. He looked back over his shoulder at Cynthia, who was walking beside Cheek. The two had become fast friends. Cynthia enjoyed his lighthearted mischief and found comfort in his company.

Not so long ago, not so far from this place, Tess had chided Mattimeo for his ill treatment of the young vole. Although he was not much older, he had been careful with the way he spoke to others and expressed his emotions and intended to stay on his best behavior, just as he had promised. He looked up at his father with a weak smile. “I’m fine. I’m just concerned for my friends. That morning after the feast, that is where they kept us. St. Ninian's. I don’t know if they would want to go back.”

Matthias felt a lump form in his throat. St. Ninian's had been crumbling into decay even when he was young, but once it had been the comfortable home to his friends the churchmice before it has been overrun by Cluny and his rats. It had not occurred to him that Slagar would have held the young ones in the church before continuing south. He wondered at the strength of the Churchmouse twins who had been born there and once called the church home. Even now they were laughing between themselves as they listened to Basil exaggerate the story of adopting the name Stag Hare. Matthias might have enjoyed a laugh too, as the story was much more elaborate than when he had met the retired foot fighter many seasons before, but he was not in the mood for laughter.

The warrior mouse was surprised that his grief for Slagar's scheme had not waned, even though Mattimeo was back safely in his company. He was aware that his son was trying his best to follow his example, but Matthias knew his young one: Mattimeo did not want to go back to the church.

“Where would you think your friends would like to sleep tonight?” the warrior asked quietly.

All around them was the peace of Mossflower woods. Moths had begun their lazy flight in the warm autumn air and crickets chirped their afternoon song in the distance. Mattimeo’s eyes wandered over the scenery before him.

“Why don’t we camp in the grass beside the road again? It hasn’t rained and the ground is dry. It’s warm too, after today.”

“That sounds like a splendid idea to me. You should ask our friends what they think.”

Mattimeo turned on one paw and made his way back to where Auma and Orlando were strolling quietly with one another. “Orlando, Auma, what do you think about—”

Walking quickly up behind him, Matthias cut him short. “No, Matti—ask everyone.”

Confusion crossed the young mouse's face for a moment. “But dad, you’re in charge.”

Matthias placed his paws firmly on Mattimeo shoulders and slowly turned him toward the crowd. “Not tonight, Mattimeo.”

…

The freed slaves relished at the idea of resting under the bright stars instead of the confines of a ruin. Suddenly, they all fell into their nightly routine. Jess led a group of the squirrels and otters in search of ingredients for their evening meal while others prepared the clearing for their night’s rest.

Tess ran up to Mattimeo and grabbed his paw. “Come on, Matti, let’s find some firewood. Orlando says he’s making a wild vegetable soup tonight!”

Basil watched the two mice run off together and nudged Matthias gently. “Did you notice, old chap? He hasn’t let go of her paw yet.”

Matthias could not help but laugh at his old friend. “Don’t get started, Basil. Don’t do to him what you did to me and Cornflower.”

Basil’s ears stood straight up in indignation. “What! Me? I say, sah, I never once made a comment regarding you and your goodwife.”

“As I recall,” Matthias taunted as he began assembling a fire pit, “You said something to Cornflower about being a 'pretty little filly' who anyone would be lucky to settle down with. You said it pointedly to someone. I wonder who that was, again?”

“You, of course,” the hare chuckled. “I bet you’re as anxious as a beetle in a bottle to get young Matti back to his mother.”

Matthias nodded sagely. “I’m just as anxious to get back to her, myself.”

…

Orlando’s cooking was as good as Auma had said it was earlier that summer. The young badger wrapped her paws around her father’s forearm. “I told them that it’s our secret that you can cook, dad, but I guess everyone knows now.”

“As long as everyone is fed and no longer hungry, they can say whatever they’d like about my cooking to anybeast.” Orlando wrapped his cloak around his daughter's shoulders. “But now, it’s time for rest.”

Slowly the weary travelers settled down for the night. Moment by moment, the increasing sounds of soft, deep breathing and loud, raucous snores filled the air. Mattimeo had laid down near his father but sleep evaded him and he rolled about restlessly. When he opened his eyes, he saw his father lying on his back, wide awake and staring at the quarter moon.

Mattimeo sat up and looked skyward with him. The moon hung luxuriously in the velvety darkness surrounded by wisps of clouds.

Careful not to wake any nearby creature, Matthias whispered, “Are you having trouble sleeping, Matti?”

Not taking his eyes from the sky above him, Mattimeo nodded.

The warrior stood and held a paw out to his son. “I can’t either. Let's go for a walk.”

…

The warriors walked silently side by side further north along the road. When St. Ninian's came into view, Mattimeo stopped suddenly and made to turn around until his father’s voice stopped him.

“Do you remember when you were young? When you couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t either. We would stay awake all night in the gatehouse. We would play games, and I would tell you stories, and most importantly—we would talk to each other, Mattimeo.”

The young mouse turned slowly back toward his father and kicked languidly at the dirt of the path. Matthias did not know why he was struggling to begin this conversation, but he knew he could not postpone speaking honestly to his son any longer.

"When did we stop talking to each other? I've always loved you. I want to know—I need to know—why? I don't want to go home without knowing that I'm the best father I can be to you, Matti."

Mattimeo looked at his father's expression. For the first time in many seasons, he felt he could speak sincerely. The words burned his throat, but he began to speak. "I don’t know what happened, dad, I don’t. One day I just—” He pinched the bridge of his nose, desperate the stop the tears from welling in his eyes. “One day I didn’t feel like I could tell you the truth anymore. I felt like everything I said was wrong, like I couldn’t do anything right and I would never be a warrior because I couldn’t be like you.” Mattimeo turned toward the darkness of the woodlands while fidgeting nervously with his paws. “I started talking to Martin instead."

The words broke Matthias's heart. He saw so much of himself in his son. He remembered how he felt sitting dejected under Martin's tapestry while Abbot Mortimer lectured him on his deepest emotions, telling him that the days of warriors had long passed. He wanted to encourage his son to speak further, instead of silencing his passions. “You talk to Martin?”

Mattimeo began casually walking forward again. “Yeah, I mean—not always. But for a long time I have. Whenever I was alone in Great Hall I would feel his presence there and I would talk to him. Now I talk to him no matter where I am.” He paused. “You must think that’s strange.”

“No, Mattimeo. I talk to Martin, too. I have since I was young.”

Mattimeo turned back toward his father, a look of awe on his face. “You did?”

Matthias smiled as he saw the spark of admiration in his son’s eyes.

“I still do.”

Mattimeo suddenly increased his pace toward St. Ninian's. Matthias followed behind, careful not to interrupt his son’s lead.

Upon reaching the church, Mattimeo pushed the doors ajar to allow the moonlight to flow into the lobby. He stood silently inside the entrance until his father stopped beside him. The inside of the building was dark, with crumbling architecture illuminated by the light streaming from the door. Even with the fresh air from the woodlands blowing in, the two mice could smell the molding books and rotting wooden furniture from where they stood, along with other smells more abhorrent to imagine. The glum reverie was only broken by the hushed breathing of the two mice until Matthias spoke solemnly.

“Mattimeo—I will not ask you to tell me anything you want to keep to yourself, but if you want to tell me something, I am here to listen to you.”

His son pointed to the far wall that was completely shrouded in darkness. “There. The fox chained us there.” His paw dropped back and his side. Matthias heard his son's voice break.

It made Matthias sick to his stomach to see the place where his son had woken in a stupor after the midsummer feast only to find that his life was forever changed. Although the fox was defeated, Matthias felt rage building in him anew.

“I didn’t want to come back here because I didn’t want to see it again," Mattimeo whispered.

Fighting the image of the harlequin mask from his mind, Matthias brought his thoughts back to his son, who was standing beside him, free and safe. “Why did you?”

“Because, dad, I want to be as strong as you are and not be scared of anything.”

Matthias stepped in front of his son and looked earnestly into the young mouse’s eyes. “Can I tell you a secret, Mattimeo?”

The seasoned warrior waited for his young son to nod in approval before continuing. “I am scared of many things, Matti. I was scared of Asmodeus. I was scared of Cluny. I was scared of losing friends that I have lost. And mostly, I was scared of ever losing you.”

He took a deep breath, ignoring the images swirling in the darkness around him. He knew they were figments in his mind. “The moment John told us you were gone was the most scared I have ever been in my life, and the most disappointed and angry I have ever been in myself. Matti, it is not wrong to feel these things, and it’s alright to be honest with those close around you who can help you. And even if you defeat your enemy, sometimes that still isn’t enough to take that fear away.”

Mattimeo had never seen his father so vulnerable. He swallowed, struggling to bring forth words. “What do you mean, dad?”

“I barely had the courage to walk into the bell tower again after the battle with Cluny. Just the memory made my heart race, but they named a bell after me so I felt a responsibility to be there when they hung it. It was difficult for me, and as far as I know no one knew how hard it was for me to be there, except your mother. Sometimes even the memory of fear is enough to open deep wounds. If you fear the memory of Slagar, or of this place, there is no shame in that. You are a stronger mouse than I am to walk here on your own.”

Mattimeo stared into the darkness, his eyes unable to focus as they watered. Matthias continued. “There is a very heavy burden with being a warrior, and I'm sorry you have to bear it. Many of our closest friends do not have the fortune to return home with us or celebrate our victories. Many creatures around you expect you to put on a brave face even when you are falling apart in your heart. I truly believe that is a quality in a good leader, to hide how you feel to encourage others—but Matti—you do not have to fall apart alone. Please remember that. If you felt you couldn’t speak to me before, I want you to know that you can. I never wanted you to feel as alone as I did when I was becoming a warrior.”

Mattimeo’s jaw began to tremble, and Matthias wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close.

“There is more than one way to be a warrior, son. I need you to see that because you are one, too.”

[toastwithjelly]

FEEL SOMETHING

(A Sanders sides Angst one-shot fic)

Part 1

4,391 words

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING⚠️

Razor blades

Self harm

Gore

Numbness

Logan angst

Confrontation on self harm suspicions

Summary:

Logan is tired of being the cold, emotionless robot that everyone perceives him as. He’s repressed his emotions to such a great extent that he genuinely doesn’t feel anything major anymore. He does have his nightly break-downs sometimes, but he needs more than that.

However, this is where roads begin to cross. Logan feels that it would be nice and beneficial to experience strong emotions, but he doesn’t know if this feeling is stronger than his fear of expressing such things. Being viewed as a joke and not being taken seriously is his worst nightmare. Because of this, the logical side just keeps up his stone cold front to avoid being weak.

This dilemma Logan had found himself in really frustrated him. No matter how hard he tried to think of a solution, nothing ever satisfied both ends of the spectrum. The best he had come up with was to keep up the front when he was with the others and then let himself break down at night when no one was around, and even that didn’t help him nearly as much as he wished. This eventually led him to looking for answers online. One search led to another, and Logan has figured out something that might help him. It’s a bit risky, and he’ll have to hide it from the others, but he knows how to be safe with it, so he’ll give it a shot just to feel something.

•———————————————————————-•

Part 1

6:34pm

 Logan was sitting at the dinner table with his three friends as they ate their meal. Nothing unusual about the evening, they had their casual little chats and the occasional playful banter from Roman and Virgil, with Patton butting in every so often. Logan kept his focus all on the plate of food in front of him. The paternal figure had worked hard to make this, he wasn’t going to let it get cold. Plus even if he wanted to join the conversation, he wouldn’t even know what to say. Sure he was the logical side and he had a heap of facts to spit but when it comes to the jovial friendly conversations the others usually shared. He truly couldn’t find the words to contribute something meaningful into the atmosphere, so other than correcting a false statement, he kept silent.

“Now Virgil, I’m just saying that a kid would be much more excited to watch a movie like Alice in wonderland and we all know it!” Roman exclaimed to the emo sitting across the table from him. It’s not at all surprising that the current conversation taking place was one about Disney. Especially when it was Virgil and Roman who were the ones bickering. “I mean all the bright colors and such a classic story is bound to win a kid over!”

“Uhuh sure, like kids would want to watch a film about a bunch of mentally ill people on an acid trip. Plus, the queen of hearts is scary for them,” Virgil retorts, glaring at Roman before taking a bite of his food. “The princess and the frog is clearly a superior movie. It’s about an independent hard working woman who doesn’t need a man to help her achieve her goals, like are you kidding me? And she helps him out, that is a nice change for once.”

“Yea I cannot argue with that, we stan Tiana,” Roman admits, leaning back in his chair. Logan was about to question the prince about the term he just used, but decided against it, keeping quiet.

“But the shadow man is scary!” Roman continues.

“Uh, no. ’I’ve got friends on the other side’ is such a bop. But I am one of the friends on the other side,” Virgil pulls his signature 2000’s MySpace emo face. ‘Bop’. Logan remembers what that meant. He had to ask Roman about it later to make a vocabulary card.

“Oh my god can you get any edgier?” Roman asks the snickering Virgil across the table as he rolls his eyes and goes back to his food. The only thing Logan could think of at this time is how useless that conversation was. Their frivolous arguments had no solid points or evidence to back up their argument if they were trying to persuade the other. He chose not to say anything so as to not further encourage them. Instead he had just yet again kept quiet and his focus was on finishing his food so he could retire to his room.

“So Logan, are you almost finished with your work?” Logan’s head snapped up when the mention of his name came from Patton. ‘Work.. it was always work.’

“No, Patton. There are still a few tasks to be completed that need to be completed tonight,” Logan states, adding on that last bit so hopefully he isn’t bugged with having a ‘family night’ as Patton and the others like to call it. Which, it doesn’t make any sense considering the fact that none of us are actually related.

“Well, once you are done with that, do you wanna come watch a movie with us!?” The parental side excitedly asks. Logan internally cringed at Patton’s use of grammar, but more at his failed attempts at getting out of this without having to ask. It’s not that Logan didn’t like the others, it’s just that tonight specifically he wanted to be left alone. Sometimes spending time with them is considered a good thing to him because he knows that he needs to take breaks from his work sometimes and Patton gives him an excuse to do so. Also, knowing that Patton wants him there helps him feel less like a robot, but that feeling quickly returns when they don’t even care to ask him his opinions for the movie choice.

“Oh.. that’s ok! There’s always next time, right?” Patton sounded a little disappointed, but supportive nonetheless. “Well I wish you good luck with that, Logan!”

“Thank you, Patton,” Logan finishes the conversation while turning his attention back towards his almost empty plate.

The rest of the dinner went by as normal. They all took their dishes to the sink and Patton offered to help Roman complete the dishes and Virgil retired to his room for the night. Logan says his goodnights and follows suit to his own room.

After entering, Logan lightly shut his door and pressed his back against the cool wood. The lights were still off, so he sat in the inky black dark atmosphere staring at the ceiling in order to prevent the dark curtain draped over the contents of his room from playing tricks on his eyes. He didn’t bother finding the light switch; he felt it was unnecessary. It would only illuminate everything that reminded him of everything that burdens him. He hates not knowing.

The logical side leaned his head back against the door and squeezed his eyes shut, the blankness of the dark and the silence began to be too much for him; it made him feel too alone. With no senses available, you are left with nothing but your own thoughts to drown in. Nothing to do but to fall down that hole of endless thinking. Logan’s head swarmed with every emotion he was feeling at once. Every fact he wished wasn’t true danced behind his eyes and pounded on his skull demanding his attention.

Logan couldn’t help but let the tears run down his cheeks. They started rolling faster and he held his hand over his mouth, choking back a sob. He hated doing this, but he had to if he wanted to remain sane. He just felt so vulnerable and embarrassed. Logan felt his legs begin to shake so he slid down the door to sit on the floor. God he hopes no one comes to his room.

The logical side stayed on the floor like that for a while. He didn’t know how long, but he was surprised when he looked at his phone to find he had been there for almost thirty minutes. Once the crying had for the most part stopped and Logan realized that it didn’t really help at all, he decided to get up from his spot on the floor and turn on some lights. He had reached for the plug connected to fairy lights strung around his room and plugged it into the electrical socket, illuminating the whole space with a soft Caramel colored glow. The lights were a gift from Patton last Christmas, the parental figure had gotten some for everyone in the house. At first the logical side thought they were childish and impractical due to him already having a light in his room, but Patton persisted so he put them up and once he saw how they casted a honey coating to all the contents of his bedroom and how the atmosphere instantly shifted from sharp to calming and gentle, he decided that they weren’t that bad.

After his eyes had adjusted to the light, Logan walked into the bathroom that he has in his room and shut the door after turning on the light. The sudden contrast of the soft light of his room to the harsh light of the bathroom only worsened his growing headache so the first thing he did was retrieve the Ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet and swallow two. After that he took his glasses off and placed them on the side of the sink before proceeding to wash his face of tears with warm water from the faucet. After he patted his face dry with a towel, he took a minute to just look into the mirror. He took notice of his cold, dead eyes that were a navy blue, but despite being such a bright color, his eyes looked more dull and grey. ‘No wonder the others think I’m a metaphorical robot.” He thinks to himself. He decides not to stay there any longer or else Remus might hear him drowning in his thoughts and show up so he grabbed his glasses and started back towards his room.

Logan didn’t know what to do now. He’s already cried a bunch but that didn’t help. He just sat on the edge of his bed trying to figure things out. The laptop sitting closed and still in his desk caught his eye. ‘There may be an article on the internet explaining my situation.’ The logical side thought to himself before he got up and made his way towards his desk, pulling out the chair and sitting down. While he opened the device up and typed in his password, he thought about what he was going to type into the search bar. While the Google page displayed on his screen awaiting his questions, Logan’s fingers moved to type in the first one that came to mind; ‘How to feel when you are numb?’

Once he pressed enter, he proceeded to scroll for what he was looking for. He passed a bunch of articles about physical health and stuff like that. ‘Perhaps I worded it incorrectly?’ He thought to himself before seeing something that could potentially be what he was looking for. It was a link to a twitter post. It was titled ‘I don’t feel anything. I do this to feel something,’ and Logan thought that would suffice nicely to his needs. Though, the side wasn’t prepared for what he was going to see when he clicked it. Blood. Lots of blood. Cuts all up and down the poster’s forearm that could be recognized as dermis and epidermis level cuts. And finally, a bloodied double edge razor blade sitting calmly in a warm crimson pool on the counter top.

Logan gasped upon the image displayed in front of him. It wasn’t too intense but seeing a part of the human body all cut up didn’t make him feel too comfortable, but he was slightly intrigued. He was kind of confused why the gorey photo was related to what he was looking for so he decided to look into it further; only because the text part of the post seemed to relate a little to his state of mind.

The logical side scrolled down past a few more photos of the same cuts just at different angles. He kept observing the images while trying to think of where to go from here until he decided to use the tags the original poster had provided with the text to research further. He viewed 10 or so hashtags of random things to figure out what the point of this was. Some of them just confused the side, but one of the words he recognized from an article he read a few months ago when Roman fell into a deep depression and he tried to gather as much information as he could to help him because the others were worried and terrified for him. However, he never had to use much information because they had luckily gotten him out of that mental health decline before anything terrible happened. Well, at least to his knowledge. The tag in question reads as ‘self harm’. Now Logan felt a little stupid because he knew what this was before, but a little clarification never hurt anyone.

He had to admit, he was a little taken aback by the fact that what he was experiencing was linked and related to self harm but he decided to explore more under that subject to further understand it. When he clicked on the tag, he was exposed to pages and pages of self harm. He stopped at one particularly disturbing one. It was a video of a girl with a straight razor that resembled that of what a barber would use. In the video, she had pressed as hard as she could and with one clean swipe, the fat inside her arm was exposed. By this point, Logan was feeling a little sick to his stomach on account of what was displayed in front of him. The video however kept going. The girl dabbed the open wound with a white towel, so the amount of blood that was being soaked up was very visible. The girl picked the weapon up again and placed it in the center of the cut and proceeded to apply pressure while she dragged the blade along her arm at a painfully slow speed. When the pool of blood was soaked up, fascia was exposed and Logan really wanted to look away but he couldn’t. He vaguely understood the premise behind self harming, but witnessing it to this extent kind of confused and scared him.

Luckily the video stopped there and Logan closed it out and continued to scroll through the page. He did not find much there other than the pictures and videos of people cutting themselves and he was starting to feel more and more uncomfortable, almost like what he felt when he was under the effects of Virgil’s room; and for that reason he decided to close out this tab and search elsewhere. The logical side really didn’t know why he was so intrigued to this certain coping mechanism. He knew it was very unhealthy, but he couldn’t let it go.

After a few google searches about the topic of self harm and a few articles later, Logan found one specific body of text that piqued his interest. It was basically describing the effects self harming has on the brain and why so many people do it and says it helps. He read through it and the information he gathered was rather interesting to him. Basically, the context of the article was explaining the science behind why self harming was addictive and why some people do it in the first place.

‘So, cutting myself will release neurochemicals in my brain that mimics that of dopamine? Fascinating..’ Logan thinks to himself. The side takes a minute to think it through. Was he actually considering this? I mean, there is scientific evidence that proves that doing this will help him. Logan ponders a bit on that last point, basically pushing him to do it. He just resorts to searching for reasons not to go through with it at this point. Only two reasons came to his mind when he tried to think up reasons to push the thoughts out of his head. The first was the safety aspect of it. Of course when you are cutting yourself there are things that can go wrong; however Logan felt confident enough that he knew how to do this safely. He knew where the vital points were on the human body so he knew where it was safe to cut as well as how deep to go. He also knew how to properly dress the wounds and how to take care of them so they didn’t get infected so the logical side could figuratively throw that worry out the window.

The only factor that was left in play affecting Logan’s decision in going through with this is the guilt he would have to face if the others found out. With Patton having gone through a situation similar to this when Roman was having severe mental health issues and when Virgil ducked out, Logan would figuratively (and almost literally) have the blood on his hands just adding it to the list. He knows that Patton always tries his hardest to do things that make everyone as happy as they can be, and oh the lengths he would go to do that. Let’s just say that the parental side has had many sleepless nights on account of helping someone else. But surely if Patton had ever found out about all the things Logan hasn’t told him, it would make him feel like he hasn’t been enough for people even more than he already does, even and who knows what could happen to him when that happens and he lives knowing that three of his friends have been struggling.

Logan had to ponder on this one for a minute. But with him being logic and all, he brought up the point that the way Patton was thinking about things is untrue and if he had to, Logan with a little of Virgil’s help could sit down with him and possibly explain things in order to pull him from that mindset.

He quietly hummed to himself, feeling accomplished at finding a solution. This satisfied feeling quickly deteriorated as confusion began to spill. Why was he feeling this way about something so grim? Why was he so compelled to stand up to get that spare razor that lay waiting in the bathroom cupboard? He thought it was even irrational to consider doing such things but it just felt like something that could actually help him, and he needed it.

He didn’t know what made him do it, but something in him made him push himself out of his desk chair to shut his laptop without powering it off and making his way to the bathroom. Once inside, he quietly closed the bathroom door. He opened the door of the shadow box, but for some reason it felt super slow like in a dramatic movie. He didn’t know why his hands were shaky when he spotted the razor and went to gently pick it up.

Just then as he examined the weapon in his grip, he felt the adrenaline pumping. It all just set in. Oh my god he was actually going to do this. He was just moments away from his destination. He gulped down a nervous lump in his throat as he examined the perfectly new blade for any rust. The side didn’t understand why he was so nervous; he knew how to do this safely so why was he so scared? Maybe he’s afraid of the pain

Logan however quickly dismissed this thought so that it doesn’t chase him out of a decision. I mean he would only seem MORE weak if he pulled such a pansy move. It shouldn’t be too bad.

He started by washing the blade and his forearm with warm water just as a precaution. He shakily held the blade horizontally over his wrist. Deep breath in and-

Slice

He ran the blade across his skin and then exhaled the breath he was holding. He sort of relaxed when he realized that it wasn’t that bad and that he was ok. Still, he checked the damage. It was a cut on the epidermis layer of the skin so nothing bad. Even so, he watches the blood bead along the clean line in fascination. It started to drip a little but that was caught with the towel that Logan pulled off the towel rack. He gently pressed the cloth to the cut and when he pulled it back, he closely watched as blood refilled the small wound. He was satisfied with his work and for some reason, he couldn’t stop looking at it. He wanted more.

So that’s what he did; the side made a few more clean lines parallel to the first one he made. He would stop to just watch the blood, then soak it up before watching how it refills again. Logan found himself admiring his arm from all angles, wearing these cuts like some sort of sick and twisted accessory. Logan continued to leave a few more little cuts, holding his arm over the sink to not make so much mess with blood (and to not ruin his favorite button up shirt).

The logical side went for one more and pressed a bit harder this time. When he swiped the blade, white was exposed before blood started to seep out from the edges of this deeper and wider cut. Actually being able to see the inside of his arm like that kind of scared him. He recognized this as the dermis level of skin. It made him a bit uneasy how he could turn his arm sideways and see the cut gape a bit, but he couldn’t stop looking at it. He thought if Remus was here, he would have said it looked like a mouth.

After that tiny scare of going deeper, he decided he was done with this for the night, afraid of going farther than he already has. As he started cleaning the blood from his arm and his sink, he was thinking over his success rates with this exercise. He had come to the conclusion that this had done what he wanted it to for him. He smiled to himself as he looked at the fresh cuts. The smaller and thin ones have already dried and scabbed over, but the deeper one he had just done was still filling with blood after each time he soaked it up, but it was slowing down. He doesn't know if he smiled because the treatment worked or if he was just proud of what he had done, but to him it just matters that he got a smile out of it. Once all the blood was cleaned up, he opened the shadow box again to retrieve the bandages. Carefully, he wrapped his arm in a secure bandage and put the rest away. The pressure of the cloth being wrapped tightly around his arm felt oddly nice and contrasted with the burning sensation on his skin from the contact.

The side stops moving and stands perfectly still when he feels a presence in his room. His heart dropped out of fear in realizing that this is the worst time to be here for obvious reasons. He slowly reaches for the doorknob of the bathroom and turns it, trying to prepare himself for whatever is about to happen. When the door was opened, it revealed Remus sitting on Logan’s bed just looking around.

“R-Remus, what are you doing here?” His voice was shakier than he wanted it to be. He wasn’t sure if the cause was from what he just did in the bathroom or the fear he had from another side possibly knowing.

Remus’s gaze shifted towards the nerd and the bandage on his arm. “Well, as I am Thomas’s own intrusive thot,” he stopped for a second to giggle at his play on words, “I can sense unwanted thoughts from any other part of Thomas,” he got up from his spot on Logan’s bed to walk towards him.

“I was picking up something from you, not like the normal. I had some suspicions and came to investigate but it seems as if I was right,”

“I.. I’m not sure I know what you are referring to,” he lied. Logan thought it was eerie to hear Remus talk in this more serious manner.

“Yea, no we both know that is a big lie,” Remus slightly smirked at Logan for the fact that he was right and gestured to Logan’s bandaged arm. Logan just avoided the other side’s eyes and held his arm behind his back. This and Logan’s uncomfortable silence confirmed it to Remus and he was no longer smiling, he had a look of empathy and slight hurt on his face. He was also sort of mad at the others because he feels and sees what Logan goes through with them and he thinks he can understand why Logan would resort to self harm.

“Logan, do you need to talk about it?” He asked. Logan has talked to Remus about his situation before, but he didn’t want to talk about this. He just brushed past Remus to go lay his pajamas out on the bed to get changed for the night. “No, I do not wish to speak of this and I ask you to kindly not mention this to anyone else, but thank you for your concern,” he never turned around to look at the other once. Remus just stood there with a slight frown. He then got an idea on what to do and he sunk out without saying anything else.

Logan could feel when the intrusive side left the room and released the breath he was holding in relief. He felt guilt wash over him in the moment. He really disliked lying to one of his closest friends but it was for the best. It was way too early for him to be able to tell anybody- scratch that. He didn’t want to tell anyone at all. He just hoped that Remus would listen and not tell anybody. The logical side thought of what he would do if that were to happen as he changed his clothes to something more comfortable.

He stopped before getting into bed to ponder if he should leave his fairy lights on while he slept. They were left on as he climbed under the cover to keep the atmosphere soft.

The logical side found himself holding his bandaged arm up above his face to admire it. He didn’t know what it was, but knowing what he'd done gave him tiny butterflies of adrenaline in his stomach which led him to a small smile. Logan was never an artist of any medium, but those crimson lines that stain his forearm felt like an art piece to him. It made him feel accomplished and.. happy. And with that, the side brought his arm back under the covers and closed his eyes to be consumed by sleep with a smile on his face.

•———————————————————————-•

Hope you enjoyed this first part :)

Yea a little background, sanders sides is such a comfort series for me, so I started writing this back when I was struggling a lot and I decided to keep writing this now so I hope you enjoy this bucket of angst haha

Part 2 will be linked here when it is up!

[jaskiersvalley]

Control

What happens when you ask a very special Discord server whether you should write Geralt/Eskel or Lambert/Eskel? You end up writing Geralt/Lambert/Eskel of the emotionally horny variety.

Under the cut for explicit content including sex toys (double ended dildo and butt plug), threesome, oral sex.

Control

There was a definite before and after in Eskel when he got the scars on his face. The before was something Geralt remembered with great fondness, memories of their time spent together in bed, in the stables, even in the forest when the forktails hadn’t deigned to turn up. He had to admit he missed those times. Sure, Lambert was just as willing and fun a partner but there was something about having someone as broad as Eskel holding him that made it special. After the scars everything stopped. Eskel withdrew, turned down offers, hid away in his room and kept very much to himself. It seemed even a goat’s company was better than Geralt and Lambert’s. Though none of his actions stopped the bitter stench of sadness and frustration that seemed to follow Eskel wherever he went.

Several winters passed, the scars became less angry, Eskel more resigned to his fate. It was only during a drunken conversation that he admitted that nobody had wanted to touch him since the accident, no brothel would take his coin. Which meant that he hadn’t had the tender caress of a lover, even a make believe one with a prostitute in years. Guilt ate away at Geralt and he pulled Lambert into his room that night, holding him close, wishing they could have Eskel between them. But Eskel resolutely refused, shying away from touch. It was only another drunken night that he finally blurted out, “It’s been so long, I fear it would be so gentle it would hurt.”

That just wouldn’t do. At night, Eskel bid them goodnight and returned to his room, lonely, sad and wistful. Drunkenly offering him a place in their bed didn’t help, even with reassurances that it would be nothing beyond a snuggle, warm bodies to chase the chill away with. Resolute in his repulsiveness and undesirableness, Eskel was unmoved.

“We’ll show him what he’s missing,” Lambert suggested. “Pull out all the stops. He doesn’t have to join but he should see what’s on offer.”

His time with Eskel of before was much more limited. A few precious years, it had been about as long without Eskel as it had been with. But he could still feel the phantom touch of large hands on his back, the warm breath that tickled the nape of his neck. Not to mention the warm chest that was just perfect to lie on. Sure, Geralt’s was almost as good but, somehow, Eskel’s was unparalleled.

So a plan was hatched. They waited until Vesemir had retired for the night and Eskel was a couple of tankards in. Being a lightweight turned out to have its uses. Without a word, Lambert slipped off the couch and knelt on the rug by Geralt’s feet, staring up at him with hopeful adoration. A hand stroked over his hair and Lambert sighed happily at the touch. He was on his best behaviour, wanting to show Eskel everything he could have.

“I think that’s my cue to head upstairs,” Eskel announced unsteadily. His eyes were glued to Lambert though, taking in his posture, the happy way he nuzzled into the palm against his cheek.

“Stay.” That was definitely an order from Geralt and he stared Eskel down. “No need to do anything, just watch.”

After a few seconds of silent staring, Eskel slumped back into his armchair, cheeks flushed. Geralt refused to call it a victory or a defeat but, to reward the agreement, he unlaced his trousers and pulled out his cock. Without hesitation Lambert took it in his mouth, trying to hold back on the soft moans and sounds as he greedily sucked.

“Don’t hold back, Baby Wolf,” Geralt purred. “Let him hear how much you enjoy it. How good you can be.”

The groan Lambert let loose was downright indecent and Geralt watched as Eskel shifted in his seat. Clearly he wasn’t as unaffected as he would wish to claim. Placing a hand on the back of Lambert’s head to keep him in place, Geralt moved things swiftly along.

“Why don’t you show him?” he asked Lambert who, with shaking hands, pushed his trousers down, revealing a plug keeping him open and ready. Geralt watched the way Eskel’s eyes flicked between plug and Lambert’s mouth and he grinned. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he? But tell me this, are you wishing you were me?” He paused for a moment. “Or him?”

“Excuse me.” Eskel pushed up from his chair and hurried out.

That didn’t stop Geralt from grinning, knowing all too well that walk and how that stance meant Eskel was trying to pretend he wasn’t hard as fuck. Looking down at Lambert, he stroked his cheek. “You did beautifully. So how about a reward?”

The next morning Eskel didn’t look either of them in the eye and, if his smell was anything to by, he had denied himself release the night before. Either that or it was a rather disappointing climax, not at all what he had been craving. Which only made the next step of Eskel’s seduction easier.

“I have a toy,” Lambert murmured low and secretive as they soaked after training. “Thought you might want to borrow it. It’s got two ends. EIther to share or to get a proper, deep fuck.” He tried to hold back on a grin as Eskel’s nostrils flared and his breath caught. “I’ll leave it in your room.”

That night, if Geralt just so happened to walk past Eskel’s room on his way to Lambert’s, that was pure coincidence. Especially when he gleefully whispered in Lambert’s ear about the needy, desperate little gasps he’d overheard and the smell of arousal that wafter from under Eskel’s door. It had Lambert shuddering in his arms, body clenching around Geralt at the very thought.

They held off on hounding Eskel after that, letting him come to them. Sure enough, a couple of days later Eskel cornered them in the prep room where they were in the process of curing the meat they’d hunted that morning.

“I have some rules.”

Said rules were simple enough. Eskel didn’t want to be touched. Not yet. He needed it to be on his terms. The other two could watch though as he opened himself up on the toy Lambert loaned him. Then he wanted to share the toy with Lambert while Geralt watched. Of course Geralt could touch Lambert as much as he wanted to but not Eskel. They were terms that the two could easily agree to. And so, they found themselves in Eskel’s room, the fire piled high. Lambert was naked and kneeling by Geralt, a collar around his throat, leash attached to it and in Geralt’s hand.

“You’ve got all the time you need,” he promised Eskel. “I’ve got our Baby Wolf under control.”

To prove his point, he pulled the leash tight and Lambert keened, cock bobbing. On the bed Eskel nodded. He had stripped and was kneeling, vial of slick in hand. Watching the other two, his cock had started to fill out but he couldn’t cope with the way the other two watched him so hungrily. Before the scars, he could accept they found him appealing but after? That was a whole different matter. There was a solution though and Eskel turned to brace one hand on the headboard, head dipped. Slick fingers reached behind himself, a cursory touch to get things going. His hole didn’t hold much resistance, he had been using the toy nightly since Lambert left it on his bed. It now meant that once everything was slick and slippery, he could grasp the toy, keep it firm while he sank back on it.

A soft whimper of need from behind him had Eskel turning to look over his shoulder, hair hiding his face, scars facing the wall. It seemed that Lambert had been pulled into Geralt’s lap at some point, legs spread wide. The plug Geralt had pulled from him clattered to the stone floor. A hand under each thigh, Lambert was lifted up and settled over Geralt’s cock. The bliss on Lambert’s face was breathtaking. Eyes half closed and staring at Eskel, his cock dark at the tip with the need for release already. However, what caught Eskel off guard was how Lambert wasn’t watching his hand and hole but rather his face.

“Beautiful.” The word buckled in Lambert’s throat as Geralt lifted then roughly pulled him down again.

Suddenly, the toy wasn’t quite enough. Eskel wanted more. The plan had been to be on his hands and knees, mirrored by Lambert but that wasn’t what he needed now.

“I’m ready,” he whispered. It took a bit of shuffling but he managed to lie on his back, legs spread. “Please. Like this.”

Geralt stood up, Lambert still held open on his cock. Walking to the bed, he let Lambert down who knelt patiently between Eskel’s spread legs.

“You sure?” Geralt asked.

Biting his lip, Eskel nodded, staring up at him. It was all the encouragement Lambert needed and he moved to lie down, legs over Eskel’s thighs as Geralt helped guide the toy into him. There wasn’t much room to move, grinding down on the toy was nice but not enough. Reaching down, Geralt gestured at the sliver of toy visible between them. “May I?”

“Please,” Eskel replied. He closed his eyes and gasped when Geralt’s hand closed around the toy and began to move it between them.

Lambert had no shame in moaning and arching, legs pressing down against Eskel’s. His open display of pleasure helped spur Eskel on. All too soon he was panting too, a hand wrapped around his cock.

“Trust me?” Geralt asked and two sets of golden yellow eyes stared at him as the other two nodded. Letting go of the toy to mutual groans of disappointment, he took a step back. “Lambert, shuffle down a bit more. I don’t want to see any of the toy.”

A soft “oh fuck” left Eskel as he heartily agreed to the idea. As Lambert moved, the toy shifted too until they were pressed flush together.

“Beautiful,” Geralt praised, echoing Lambert from earlier. “Touch yourselves. I’m going to come on Lambert.” He stepped towards the bottom of the bed, aiming for Lambert’s chest. “You’re both taking the toy, sharing it. Can you feel each other’s heartbeats knocking against the toy? Making it press just a little more into you both.”

Lambert’s head tipped back as he arched, climax finally taking him over. HIs shuddering jostled the toy until Eskel couldn’t hold back anymore. Much more quietly, Eskel gasped, hand working over himself to wring every bit of pleasure out. He was as gorgeous as ever in Geralt’s eyes. Finally, he tipped over the edge too, adding his spend to what already covered Lambert.

The three of them rested on the bed until Eskel squirmed, a little uncomfortable. A tap to Lambert’s thigh had him pushing away a bit and Geralt helped pull the toy free of them both before dropping it to the ground to be dealt with later. As per their agreement, he moved away, pulling Lambert into his arms.

“Ummm.” Eskel watched them with dark, sleepy eyes. Obviously something was on his mind and Geralt hoped he knew what it was but he didn’t say anything, allowing Eskel to work at his own pace. “I know we said you two would go back to your room after.”

“Yes.” Lambert had nuzzled into the crook of Geralt’s neck, content to be held and for the other two to sort out whatever they were not quite discussing.

“What if I changed my mind?”

“You want to cuddle with us?”

Eskel quickly shook his head but he did move to the edge of the bed, leaving an open space for the other two. “Maybe you two could cuddle nearby?”

A glance down at Lambert and Geralt decided that he could make this call. He was pretty certain he knew what Lambert would want anyway. Gently, he knelt on the bed, settled Lambert before lying down next to him. It was nice, having his Baby Wolf in his arms while Eskel was nearby. Not perfect by any means, that would only happen when the three of them were in a comfortable, sated heap. But this was a very good start and a solid foundation they could build their way to perfection on.

[karlyfr13s]

One Love, One Lifetime

A Phantom of the Opera inspired Captain Swan AU

Rated M, cover art by @hollyethecurious

Chapter Two: Think of Me

Friday dawned clear and bright, and Emma woke earlier than usual. While she was normally happy to lay in bed until mid-morning, today marked the beginning of the season and the opening gala at the opera house, and she was anxious to get limbered up and ready for tonight’s performance. The day would require all-hands on deck, and Emma loved it when the whole venue was buzzing with excited and busy cast and crew members. Today was particularly special for Emma as she was given her first starring role. Regina hadn’t shown her face since the incident earlier in the week, though several of her lackies had been spotted skulking around backstage, most likely gathering gossip for her as usual. Emma was sure the managers spent most of their waking hours attempting to call Regina back and garner her favor. Sure, she wasn’t beloved by most of the crew--who she constantly berated and treated like personal servants--and a substantial portion of the cast ran hot and cold in their feelings--probably because she criticized everyone but Sidney and herself--but... Emma lost her train of thought as she stretched with her fellow dancers. Regina was the leading lady, so surely they had no choice but to try and lure her back, right?

Emma wondered aloud to Ruby whether Booth and the others were hellbent on getting Regina back on stage because they didn’t have faith in Emma’s own abilities, guessing that her managers might already fear the worst in tonight’s opening show. Ruby dismissed the thought out of hand as any best friend would do with only hours remaining before showtime. Of course, her managers had no idea how nervous Emma was, but ever since the impromptu audition on Tuesday evening, Emma had nightly conversations with her hidden Angel. He had coached and encouraged her as she practiced, working to perfect her enunciation and ensure she hit each note of the final cadenza in the complex aria with precision and confidence. Though the Angel didn’t always speak to her, Emma never felt alone in the moments she practiced despite the rest of the large venue sitting dark and silent in the small hours of the night.

As she readied herself for costume and makeup, anxiety rushed through her, sending Emma’s pulse racing and her breathing became shallow gasps. She tried to still the fluttering in her stomach, tried to shift into the single-minded focus she usually felt as she warmed up with the rest of the chorus, but doing so alone was far more difficult. Yet as she gazed at her reflection in the floor-length mirror, Emma felt a strange and sudden quiet fall over her. She could do this--she was going to do this. Tonight. She had trained for it, had been practicing numerous complex pieces for years now, had intentionally set herself the repeated challenge of playing secret understudy to Regina. With a nod to her reflection, Emma left her room and made for the theatre and the final rehearsals for blocking.

That evening as she slipped into the sparkling white ball gown, as the costuming crew clipped glittering crystalline stars into her long golden waves, she coached herself under her breath. She said a quick word of gratitude to the spirit of her father and to the Angel whose influence brought her to this moment. As she took her place backstage, Emma straightened her shoulders and Ruby snuck in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “They’ll never know you’re sweating a river under that thing--way too many layers for anyone to notice. Plus, they’ll be so blown away by your voice that nothing else will matter. Go get ‘em, girl!”

With that, Emma Nolan took the stage and had her first moment in the spotlight. It was an out of body experience. Surely it wasn’t little orphan Emma who commanded the entire stage? There was no way some girl from small-town Maine stood at the Paris Opera House-- at Palais Garnier --and bespelled an entire audience with the light, complicated, and wondrously beautiful “Think of Me”. Knowing the box would be vacant, Emma set her sights on box five and put her whole heart into the next four minutes. She could feel the swell of the music accompanying her, letting the warmth of the strings pull her onward, compelling the crowd with the sudden softness as she reached the third verse, and allowing herself to be taken over by the moment as the song crescendoed.

Recall those days

Look back on all those times

Think of the things we'll never do

There will never be a day

When I won't think of you

In the back of her mind, she heard a loud call, “Bravo!’” ring from the audience, and in the last verse of her solo, Emma felt as though she were flying. Her voice building higher and higher in the cadenza, each note crisp and clear as it rang across the theatre and back to her so that when the last two notes burst from her like some wild, magical thing they were half drowned out by the standing ovation that spontaneously began right in front of her.

Emma didn’t have time to remove her makeup or change before she was completely swamped by well-wishers. Cast, crew, and several attendees who’d somehow made their way to the hall that led backstage all vied for her attention. She couldn’t catch half of what they were saying, wished desperately to get out of her heavy gown, and found herself repeatedly saying ‘thank you’ more than anything else. It was entirely overwhelming. Thankfully, her managers interrupted, Jefferson swooped in and took a bouquet from her laden arms, offering her a flute of champagne instead. “Hell of a first night, Emma,” he beamed at her and they clinked glasses. “Seems Madame Lucas was right about you -- we’ve had to set half the stagehands to temporary security so we can get people out of the building instead of having them wander in search of you.”

“He’s right,” Locksley chimed in, freeing her other arm from the elaborate bouquet of stargazer lilies, which had been starting to make her nose tickle. “You’re quite the sensation, Miss Nolan!” She thanked him for the kind words and he insisted she call him Robin, introducing the dark-haired woman who’d appeared at his elbow as his wife, Marian. “With that, we must take our leave. Babysitters are ludicrously expensive in this city, and Roland should already be asleep anyway. Enjoy the moment, Miss Nolan, it certainly won’t be the last.”

Gradually, the crowd began to disperse and Emma was given a small amount of breathing room between introductions and congratulations. Her feet were aching and she was about to call it a night, when she saw a familiar face lingering in the crowd. “Graham?” She took a few steps toward the man, his light brown hair falling into his eyes as he grinned at her. She took off at a run, kicking off her heels, and he caught her in his arms. “I knew that was your voice -- I just knew it! What are you doing here? How?”

He spun her in a circle, the vast skirts of her gown swirling around them and clearing a space as several onlookers gawked at the pair. “My parents are patrons of the opera,” he explained briefly, kissing her cheek and blushing pink at the public attention. “When I heard tonight was your debut, I told them I’d represent the Humberts for the opening gala -- Emma, you were incredible out there!” The reunion was abruptly interrupted when Granny caught Emma’s eye where she lingered near the hall to her apartment. Granny gestured to her watch and Emma immediately stepped back from Graham’s embrace.

“It’s so good to see you, but...I have to go for the night, Graham, it’s late.” As she spoke, he took both her hands in his, wrapping her slender fingers in his warm grasp and insisting they go out and celebrate both her triumphant debut and their unexpected reunion. “I can’t, Graham, I’d love to -- it’s been so long since we saw each other -- but curfew is strict here, and I have to go. Goodnight.” She stepped back, gathering up her shoes as she fled the attention. The last thing she saw before making her way to her room was Graham with his brow knit in confusion. The image was quickly swept from her mind when she saw her whole apartment overflowing with bouquets and congratulatory gifts.

She turned to face Granny, her eyes wide. The old woman offered a kind smile, though she didn’t mention Graham or even ask who he was, which seemed odd. Instead, she handed Emma a single, perfect pink rose unlike any she’d seen. The stem was tied with a black satin ribbon and as she passed the delicate bloom to Emma, Granny’s only explanation was “He’s pleased with your performance, Emma. You sang like an angel tonight.” She helped Emma out of the elaborate costume, taking care to brush out her hair as she removed the numerous clips and pins. Emma hummed to herself as the two worked, Granny focusing on the items that needed to be brought back to the costuming department while Emma swiped her way through layer after layer of makeup until she was left fresh-faced and rosy-cheeked from the experience. She slipped behind the wardrobe screen after Granny left, changing into a soft floor-length robe.

Graham was here. It had been years since they last saw one another, and Emma tried to hold the vision of him now -- a man grown, complete with stubble on his cheek -- alongside the boy she’d spent so much of her childhood with. So many days had been spent at the top of her father’s loft, daydreaming and sneaking chocolates with Graham -- he was an excellent storyteller, and seemed to have a knack for knowing when her father was feeling particularly unwell. After they received the news that her father’s illness was incurable, Graham had become a daily presence in the house. He was always helping out -- fixing leaky faucets or repairing the shutters after a bad storm. As she sat and pondered her own reflection, Emma was drawn back to their freshman year of high school and to her first kiss -- their first kiss --she’d always assumed she’d end up with the boy next door.

That had changed with the revelation her father was taking her to Paris. Graham had not taken it well, and had stormed out her door for the last time two weeks before she uprooted her whole life with the move. She had needed him, had relied on him as a constant in her life, but almost immediately she saw him around town with someone else. Emma found out later it was some woman a few years older than Graham, and heard they had followed one another through Europe for a year before starting university in England. While that clearly hadn’t worked out, the old wound still stung. Undoubtedly, he had been through Paris several times, and he knew precisely where she was. So why had he never visited until now? It seemed likely she was only catching his attention now that it was her name on the marquee.

“Darling, who exactly is Graham Humbert to you?” came the voice in the darkness. Though Emma knew it could only be her Angel, she’d also never heard him like this. Usually the voice was low and encouraging, a mentor and gentle guide to her, but now...something was off. His pitch was too high, his pace too rapid and it felt angry somehow. She explained to the darkness around her that Graham was a friend, and had been for years. “Uncanny, isn’t it? He reappears suddenly just as you step into your own destiny,” the voice trailed off, his tone harsh and clipped.

“What do you mean? You don’t think...Graham wouldn’t do that! We’ve been friends since we were kids -- his family’s a patron of the arts, that’s all.” Emma felt oddly torn, needing to defend Graham’s intentions, while also feeling compelled to soothe the hurt her Angel so clearly felt right now.

“Men of low ambition seek greatness only through possessions -- through acquiring what is not theirs to have , darling.” His voice kept shifting, changing its origin as though he was everywhere and nowhere. “You are a marvel,” he crooned, voice softening to a low purr in her ear though he remained out of sight. His tone shifted abruptly, voice nearly a growl. “You were born for more than his small mind can imagine, and I will not see him bask in your glory. This triumph belongs to us -- to you and I alone.”

Emma realized then that she mattered to this unseen Angel, though for the life of her she couldn’t understand why . What’s more, he seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere -- had he been in the crowd after the curtain call? Had she seen him and simply not known? The thought seemed impossible; she’d always been sure she would know him the instant she saw him. “I know that,” she began, not knowing what he wanted from her, but wanting to try. “I never thought I could do anything like I did tonight, and without you, I know I never would have tried. Please,” she faltered then, wondering where to go from here and how best to help him understand how much she valued every lesson and moment they’d spent together. She squared her shoulders, looking at her resolute expression in the mirror. “Please, let me finally see you. Let me know who you really are -- who it is that made tonight possible.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear. Go on then, if you’re sure you can handle it, keep watching your mirror, Emma.” She leaned forward, at first seeing only herself gazing back until the surface swirled with crimson smoke and from the cloud emerged two brilliant blue eyes set in an astoundingly handsome face.

“Oh,” she heard herself gasp softly and she reached toward the image as the smoke cleared. She took in the black hair that tumbled artfully into his eyes, the confident smirk that gave her a brief flash of white teeth. She reached out, startling herself when her fingers found, not the solid glass she’d expected, but the scratch of the stubble that dusted his cheek.

“Come now, darling. I know you’re more curious than that,” he hummed, waiting patiently and leaning against what now appeared as a doorway rather than her mirror. She took her time, sweeping her eyes over his strong, lean frame. He wore all black from the embroidered silk waistcoat to his full-length leather coat and Emma was sure on most men it would look outlandish, but he was definitely not most men. His wolfish grin must have erased something in her brain because she realized belatedly he had a gleaming silver hook where his left hand should be. It appeared deadly sharp, and she wondered what story had led to its existence. She knew she was staring and tried to say something, anything at all.

“How?” she eventually sputtered, not knowing how to form the question she wanted to ask. He was real, and here. The man -- the Angel? Did angels look like this? -- who had watched over her for years now. The man who taught her to take raw talent and shape it into art. He was real. She reached out, laying her hand flat against his chest, her eyes fixed on the place over his heart. Taking a steadying breath, she slowly turned her gaze up to meet his eyes. “You’re real.” She felt stupid the instant it left her mouth, though his low chuckle wasn’t unkind.

“Real indeed, darling. And to your earlier enquiry: magic.” She tittered, faking a laugh at this and thinking she may have found herself at the mercy of a lunatic. He broke out in a warm laugh at her expression. “Not many people greet me in such a way, but you are not most people are you Emma?” She briefly wondered if he read her earlier thoughts, but before she could think much more he offered his arm which she took out of pure curiosity. “Perhaps a demonstration then?” And suddenly the world was shrouded in crimson smoke.

...

Thank you @ultraluckycatnd for beta-ing this piece, and @lonelyspectator12 for being an incredible brainstorming partner.

Shout-out to @eastwesthomeisbest for your artwork--it inspires me to persevere past writer's block!

Tagging CSMM Discord and those who've asked:

@kmomof4, @teamhook, @veryverynotgood, @caught-in-the-filter, @hollyethecurious, @laschatzi, @donteattheappleshook, @lonelyspectator12, @the-darkdragonfly, @zaharadessert, @winterbaby89, @jrob64, @wefoundloveunderthelight, @ultraluckycatnd, @stahlop, @alexa-fangirl-forever, @superchocovian, @monosalvatore16, @snowbellewells, @batana54

[vennilavee]

parental moments: two

to build a home masterlist

Pairing: levi x reader Summary: it’s 2:40 AM and you and levi are convinced that you’re about to be robbed. except you hear drunken laughter. Chapter Warnings: cursing, otherwise none really Word Count: 1795 A/N: based off of a series of asks that were sent in the other day about sasha, connie, and jean showing up drunk and levi and oc’s house. and levi and oc think they’re getting robbed (especially oc who has been getting startled by everything bc they’ve been binging true crime docs). also they are living in a house now because they decided to move out of their apartment and get a bigger property together hehe

***

One of the many things you and Levi had in common was your love for true crime documentaries. You had taken to ending your nights with whatever was on television, or with whatever was on the many streaming services that you had a subscription to.

Levi complained often (along with you) at how there were a million and one streaming services these days- what was the point-

“To burn a hole in our bank accounts,” You scoff.

“There’s gotta be a way to stream this shit for free,” Levi groans.

“I bet one of the new recruits knows,” You muse, “Maybe Armin or Jean...”

“We can figure it out ourselves,” Levi huffs and you roll your eyes.

It’s been days and weeks of your nightly routine and you’ve become creeped out enough late at night that you’ve taken to triple checking the locks and the windows of your house every few hours. And tonight is no different.

“Hey,” Levi says, pulling you into his side reassuringly, “We’re fine. And even if we’re not. I’m here to protect you.”

You’ve been waking up at every small noise during the night- the wind whistling, the house settling, leaves rustling outside. Usually, he’s the light sleeper but these days… These days it’s you. And he can tell it’s starting to take a toll on you. You’re tired during the days when you don’t get a good night’s sleep, the bags under your eyes deepening.

“That’s nice,” You murmur, “But I think we need a baseball bat. Or three.”

“And what do we need three baseball bats for?” Levi asks flatly, “Let’s stop with the documentaries so late at night. Would a home security system help?”

“Maybe…”

Levi puts you to bed so good that night, but you still come home with three baseball bats the next day.

***

“Levi,” You mumble, shaking him awake, “Levi, did you hear that?”

It’s 2:40 AM and he’s already awake and throws the sheets off of him to get out of bed. He heard it too, the rustling, the loud footsteps and the jarring sound of knocking. You can’t tell if it’s coming from inside or outside and your heart is racing too fast for you to discern the origin of the noises.

He internally curses himself for not installing the home security system yet.

“Stay here,” Levi murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll be back in a few minutes-”

“What! No,” You protest fiercely, leaping out of bed and pulling your new baseball bat from under the bed. While you’re at it, you slip a pair of shorts over your bare legs and Levi rolls his eyes at you.

“Take your time, it’s not like we’re about to get robbed. Do you want to put your makeup on, too?” Levi snorts.

“Oh, yeah, good call. Tell them to wait for me to contour-” You roll your eyes and pinch him, “Is this a joke to you-”

He quickly shushes you by pulling you into his side and squeezing your hand as he quietly heads downstairs to the source of the noise. You can’t help but press your face into his shoulder nervously, while peeking with one eye open. Gripping his upper arm tightly, your nails pressing into his bicep, you whisper for him to be careful when he looks through the peephole of the front door.

You hear a chorus of laughter, drunken laughter and Levi sighs irritatedly. He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head.

“You gotta be shittin’ me,” Levi grumbles.

“What? What is it?” 

“Take a look for yourself,” Levi says, “It’s Connie, Jean and Sasha.”

You throw the door open and are greeted with three drunken fools with beaming smiles on their face that don’t seem to falter when they see your baseball bat.

“Oh my god,” You murmur, rubbing a hand over your face, “I thought we were getting robbed. I fuckin’ thought we were getting robbed, Levi.”

Levi subtly squeezes your hand and brushes his lips over your temple to quell your nerves. He sends a scathing look to the three troublemakers standing on the porch, without a care in the world.

“May I ask what the fuck you three are doing at our place of residence at three in the morning,” Levi says flatly.

“Yes! Yes you may,” Jean grins and winks at Levi.

It draws a surprised laugh from you.

“Wha’ had happened was…” Sasha starts with a bright smile.

“Our phones died and we kinda… forgot where we live,” Connie shrugs, not even bothering to look sheepish, “Besides, remember, you said! If we ever had to hide a dead body, you’d help us!”

“Please do not tell me that there’s a dead body to hide,” Levi sighs.

“We have your numbers an’ addresses mem’rized,” Sasha says, batting her eyelashes at you innocently.

That immediately pulls a wave of affection through you and you match their smiles in intensity. Levi doesn’t have the heart to tell you not to encourage their antics.

“I can’t believe you remember our address and not your own,” You mumble, pulling them in for tight hugs, “Come inside. You three are troublemakers.”

“Really?” Jean asks, his light brown eyes wide.

“We gave you our address and phone numbers for a reason,” Levi rolls his eyes, “It’s cold, get your asses inside.”

The three of them file inside in a straight line, looks of glee etched in their faces. 

“Take your shoes off, please,” You request as you shut and lock the door behind you. Levi doesn’t miss you glancing at the locks twice just to make sure.

“Do you have-”

“Yes, Sasha, we have food,” Levi says, already heading into the kitchen, “I’ll give you some if you don’t spill.”

“How will you know I won’t spill until you give me food?” Sasha asks and you stifle a laugh.

You follow Levi into the kitchen after making sure that they’re comfortable and hug him from behind, your face pressed in between his shoulder blades. You yawn widely and kiss the back of his neck lightly.

“Can’t believe I thought we were going to get robbed,” You mutter, “Instead we have three drunk kids in our house.”

“I believed it for a sec, too,” Levi says, “Honestly, I would’ve preferred getting robbed to having three drunk kids in our house.”

You laugh into his shirt and swat his shoulder playfully. Levi flits around the kitchen with you at his back, warming up food and filling up glasses of water for the three of them. He can tell that the adrenaline is wearing off and that you’re getting sleepier and sleepier when you cling to him, always touching him even when he’s so close to you.

Peeling off of his back, you give him a sleepy smile and take two plates out to the dining table. Sasha immediately jumps up, abandoning whatever conversation she was in with Connie and Jean and sits in front of her plate.

“My mouth is watering,” Sasha moans, her stomach grumbling.

“Oi, get it together,” Jean chastises but sits next to her, “Food’s not goin’ anywhere.”

“Thanks Captain,” Connie grins, pupils still blown from alcohol, “And Missus Captain.”

“Missus? Who you callin’ missus?” You say, struggling to keep your face straight, “Maybe Levi’s mister-”

Levi rolls his eyes and listens to you bicker with Connie, and then Jean joins in before both of them start to tease you in good fun.

“So all three of you show up here with dead phones? Do you guys all share one brain cell?” You ask, “Usually it’s Jean, but I see that you decided to leave it at home tonight…”

“Hey!”

“Don’t be so mean…”

“...”

“What if something happened and you didn’t know how to get in contact with anyone?” You chide lightly, “Be more careful. Last thing we need is my three favorites getting in trouble-”

“Your three favorites! Ha! I knew it,” Jean says, bumping fists with Connie.

“That’s not what I meant,” You protest weakly, “You’re all my favorites-”

“It’s alright,” Sasha says with wink, “Your secret’s safe with us.”

You look to Levi for help with wide, dark eyes and he shakes his head for the millionth time that night. 

“You three know better,” Levi says sternly, “Going out and getting drunk enough where none of you remember your address and none of you have a working phone amongst the three of you? What the hell were you thinking?”

“Oh, live a little, Captain,” Jean says airily, ignoring the flabbergasted look from Sasha.

“‘Sides, we remembered our address. We just wanted to see if you’d let us in,” Connie says smugly.

“The idiots who cried wolf,” You mutter with a smile and they all protest indignantly. 

“Can’t believe you were about to beat us with a baseball bat,” Jean mutters.

“I thought we were being robbed-”

“If we were robbing you, we’d be inside the house, not outside-”

“Are you kidding me, Jean?” You groan, smacking your forehead with your palm for the fifth time that night, “I’ll keep that in mind next time we get intruders at 2:40 AM.”

“Do you get intruders at 2:40 AM often?”

“Don’t fuck with my beauty sleep, Kirstein,” You say, pointing a finger at the three of them accusingly.

“You don’t need any beauty sleep, ma’am,” Sasha says without missing a beat, “Captain thinks so, too.”

“Are you hitting on my girlfriend for me,” Levi deadpans.

Sasha only shrugs, finishing off the last spoonful of food in her plate. Connie takes all three of the empty plates to the sink, or he tries to. Levi stops him and pulls the plates from him and quickly washes them.

“You can sleep on our couch tonight, it’s already late. We have some extra chargers, I plugged them in over there,” You point to the corner of your living room, “We’ll bring out extra blankets and pillows.”

You know Levi is cringing at the thought of outside clothes on the couch, so you offer them some freshly washed pajamas of yours and Levi’s. Levi leaves water for them on the coffee table in case they wake up in the middle of the night and finally, finally brings you back to bed with him. You peel your shorts off and slide into bed with him, already curling into his side.

“Can’t believe them,” You mumble sleepily, but fondly.

“Oh really? I can,” Levi snorts.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” You reply with your eyes closed, “And don’t wake me up before nine.”

The next morning, after Sasha, Connie and Jean leave, you and Levi work on installing the new home security system in your house and at your insistence-

“Fine. You can keep those fuckin’ baseball bats.”

***

tags: @simpingmaize

[airis-paris14]

Starlight Chapter 13

Summary: Amani is an orphaned heiress who's spent most of her life raising her younger sister. T'Challa is a widowed King and Father. Neither of them is expecting much from their night at the Lotus. But the coming months have many milestones in store for these young adults. Will becoming a family be one of them?

Warnings: N/A

Masterlist

2 months later

“Amani, I’m about to head out,” Amare called, grabbing her house keys off of the hook. “Okay, hold on, I'll be right back Baby.” T’Challa nodded into the phone and muted himself to speak to someone off screen. Amani hurried down the stairs and smiled at her little sister. “Okay, passport, keys, tickets, wallet, and medicine in carryon?”

“Yes mother,” Amare smirked.

“I’m just trying to keep you safe kid,” the older Okeke smiled and pulled her in for a hug. “You’re 18, not 21, so please, no sneaking off without telling Shuri’s guards where you all are going. Limit your alcohol intake, I know it’s legal over there but the last thing I need is a call from a German hospital saying you have alcohol poisoning.”

“I promise I will limit the drinking, and the sneaking out.”

“Good. Have fun, be safe. I love you.” Amani smiled and pulled her sister in for another hug. “Love you too sis. I’ll only be gone for a week.”

“I know, but you know I hate saying goodbye. You’re all I have left kid. But I want to let you live, so go before you miss your flight. Hug Shuri for me.

“I’ll call you when I land.” Amare bounded down the front steps and into her already packed car. Amani sighed watching her wave one last time before pulling off down the street. She waved at the patrol car as it drove by on its hourly surveillance drive by, before locking her door and heading up the stairs into her office. “And I’m back,” she plopped into her seat, reopening her MacBook.

“Personally I don’t think it’s fair that our sisters see each other more than we do,” the king teased. Amani rolled her eyes, “This is their first time seeing each other since we came home, it’s only been two months,” Amani laughed. “Yes, and after having you here for three months, I’ve decided that 61 days is too long to be out of your presence.”

“Well you know I’m working to get the venue started up, I just can’t travel as much as usual. You know I would be there if I could,” Her voice began to tremble.

“I know my love,” T’Challa reassured, “I am just teasing,” he frowned, noticing her eyes tearing up. “I know but lately I’ve just been feeling like such a bad girlfriend,” she began to sob and the king panicked. “Hey no, you’re perfect. Nothing's wrong. It’s on both of us and I was gonna tell you that I was planning to surprise you with a visit.”

“Really?” Amani sniffled.

“Yes so please stop crying entle.” The heiress grabbed a tissue from the box she had begun to keep on her desk after noticing that even the little things made her tear up. “I’m sorry. I ruined the surprise again,” she chuckled, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “It is fine, now you have something to look forward to. You hate them anyway,” the king teased.

“Are you sure you’re alright though my love? You have been extra-sensitive lately.”

“In more ways than one,” the heiress murmured. “Have you been to the new doctor, did she run the tests the doctor here ordered?” The king grabbed a stack of papers and began signing them. “Yep,” Amani read over and responded to an email her contractor sent before turning her attention back to T’Challa. “I have an appointment with her tomorrow. She and Dr. Zabulie both sounded very excited so I’m hoping it's a positive result.”

The king smiled at the news, “Well then I’ll be expecting a full report as soon as you know.”

“Of course. I’ll call your mother as well, I wouldn’t even be in this position if you all hadn’t encouraged me to go see another doctor.”

“We both just want what is best for you,” the king smiled, “but unfortunately I have a meeting to attend to my love. I will call you later tonight, okay?”

“Of course, I’ll see you later.” She blew a kiss through the phone before the king had to hang up. After responding to more emails, she scheduled some property manager interviews for later in the week and a building walk through. Her phone caught her attention as it began to ring, “Hello?” She answered. “Hey, Kura and I finished those designs for different set ups and interiors, are you free to go over them?”

“Yeah,” Amani smiled. While in Wakanda she and her friends decided to go into the event business together. They’d bought an old hotel downtown in Atlanta and decided to turn it into a sleepover venue. With suites and rooms designed for different party sizes and moveable features to make the room age appropriate. A spa, boutique, and restaurant, would be located on the grounds as well. There was also a separate grand ballroom and garden that allowed them to market the place as an all in one wedding venue. They’d started work while in Wakanda and now two months later they were weeks away from opening the ballroom, gardens, and other non overnight amenities for event bookings. They would use the money from the rentals to help recover the costs of renovating the hotel rooms.

“Bet. We’ll be over in 30. Sakura has to pick up the pizza first.”

“Cool, don’t forget extra garlic butter sauce. Imma hop in the shower. Y’all can just use your keys to let yourselves in.”

After hanging up the phone Amani hopped in the shower and let the water soothe her muscles. She’d been working so hard to make sure everything came together and it finally was. She was more in love with T’Challa each day, she was starting a business with her friends, and Darius had been spotted in New York living with some family he had there. She still had nightly surveillance, but knowing that he’d move out of the state definitely calmed her nerves.

“Madiyson?” The heiress called as the sound of the front door caught her attention. When she didn’t receive a response she shrugged and figured she had her beats on. She quickly motioned with her coconut oil,slipped into some sweatpants, and pulled a sports bra over her head before a voice sent a chill down her spine. “You’ve been holding out on me Amani.”

Darius got up from his seat behind her on the bed and revealed the kitchen knife he was holding. “If I had known you could look like that, I would’ve made you work out more.”

“How the hell did you get in my house?”

“No Thank you? Darius frowned.

“What do I have to thank you for?”

“Giving you a second chance,” Darius smirked before lunging at the Okeke heiress. Amani, dodged his lunge as he ran into the dresser she was standing in front of. “ A second chance for what you bastard!” The heiress resisted the urge to search for her phone, she knew Darius, he watched her eyes always to anticipate her next move. “You ruined my life. You were supposed to be my wife, look pretty, give me kids. Instead your ass got me locked up for damn near life. Now my dad is all on my ass because he had to call in a favor with the DA and the governor in one sitting-”

“Well maybe your ass should’ve just stayed in jail then!” Amani ducked, expecting the lamp on the nightstand to fly towards her head. She took the moment she dodged the light fixture to locate her phone. It was too far and she knew that she’d never be able to reach it before Darius finished his spiel. She’d have to leave her friends a clue that something had gone wrong.

“Now,” Darius eyed Amani as she backed up against the wall, “as I was saying. Everyone is counting on me to not fuck up! Which means I need to get my old life back, starting with you Ms. Okeke, now heiress of the Okeke Industries Tech Conglomerate.”

“No one will ever believe that we are a happy couple once again Darius, they found me, clinging to life, hypothermic, and bleeding because you literally beat our child out of me. It was on the five o'clock news for weeks straight.” Amani risked eyeing her keys once more, hoping that the plan she was hatching would work.

“What better way to show them that I am a changed man, than by having you forgive me. A redeemed love, a true love,” Darius stepped up to Amani and caressed her cheeks and lips. The woman felt like crawling out of her skin but she held it together. “Why don’t you just find another woman?” Not that Amani wished Darius on any other woman, she’d prefer he’d be locked up in a cell, but she needed to get him to back up. “Does it really matter? I want you, and I’ve already invested a lot in you Amani. You got a little break to have fun and spend time with other men, but you are mine. You always were and you always will be, it’s time I got a return on my investment. “ Darius took a seat on Amani’s bed and she silently rejoiced.

“Okay, then what’s your plan?”

“You don’t need to know all of that. Just know that I’m not leaving you behind Amani.” Darius pointed the knife and Amani nodded, “I’m just gonna grab my keys,” she gestured. “If I go missing, the police will look at all of your father’s and friend’s properties, no one will think I was stupid enought to take you to one of our vacation homes.” At least the waitress hoped this wasn’t the stupidest idea she’d ever had.

“Nah, cause I’m sure your friends and man know all about those places. Not to mention your little sister.”

“Amare is out of the country at a science conference, won’t be home for two weeks, you’ll have time to move me before she can get back. As for the others, they don’t even know we own vacation properties.” Amani scoured through her keys and grabbed the one she knew her sister would recognize as missing first. “Here, we can go to the chateau in the mountains in North Carolina. It’s secluded. No one for miles around.”

Darius stood up, “Nah, there’s a reason you’re helping me. What is it?”

“You’re never gonna leave me alone otherwise. I don’t wanna die, and this is most likely the last time I’ll ever get a decision about something that happens to me. Think of it as my final words.” As soon as the excuse left her mouth Amani felt her mouth go dry and heavy, for some reason, it did feel like she’d sealed her own fate.

“Amani!” Madiyson called as she entered the apartment. Sakura followed in hot on her heels to place the heavy pizzas in the kitchen. “I still don’t know why you ordered four pizzas for 3 people,” Madiyson laughed, dropping all of her interior design sketches and renderings on the table. “As much of a perfectionist each of us is… We're gonna be here all night and y’all are gonna be glad I bought enough pizza.”

“Well if AMANI would BRING. HER. ASS. DOWN. THE. STAIRS we could get started and be done at a godly hour.” Madison yelled up the stairs into the continued silence. “You told her we were coming, right?”Sakura joined her friend at the base of Amani’s stairs and frowned. “Yeah, she said just let ourselves in.”

“Maybe she’s taking a nap, she’s been doing that more often than usual.”

“Oh god, if she’s taking a nap then she’ll be dead to the world right now. You wanna wake her up while I set up?” Madiyson shook her head and walked back over to the couch in the living room. “Sure, just throw me into the lion’s den. You know she hates being woken up by anyone but Amare and Ada.” Sakura whined. “You’ll be fine, she would never hate you. Just make it seem like she woke herself up. Throw a pillow or something.” Madiyson shrugged and opened her laptop.

“Always the sacrifice, never the beneficiary,” Sakura mumbled as she jogged up the stairs into Amani’s room. “Mani,” the afro-asian woman sang as she burst into the room, only to be greeted by a perfectly made bed. “Amani?'' She tried to calm her heartbeat as she checked her friend’s closet and bathroom. “Okay focus, details details,” Sakura chanted to herself. “7:47, no phone in the room, nothing messed up, somebody sat on the bed,” the waitress took note of the room as she backed her way out, down the stairs, and towards the garage. “Hey, did you- what’s wrong,” Madiyson frowned as her best friend opened the garage door and looked out. “Did she say she was gonna leave?” Sakura ignored Madiyson’s original question, feeling her stomach drop at the presence of Amani’s car, and the empty house. “No, she said she was gonna take a shower-”

“Madiyson, She’s not here.”

“Look, I already told you what happened. Madiyson called Amani at 6:30, she picked me up, we picked up the pizzas, let ourselves in, but she wasn’t here when i went to check on her. I went into the room at 7:47. The shower had been turned on and the room was steamy, and someone had sat on her bed but Amani hates that unless she’s about to go to sleep. Except she isn’t in her room sleeping!”

“Why are you all not taking this seriously! Her abusive ex is a known kidnapping threat. For God’s sake she’s had a 24/7 patrol for months because there was fear he would try to retaliate! Now that she’s missing, y’all aren’t doing a damn thing.” Madiyson butted in frustrated at the officers staring at them like they were aliens from outer space.

“Ma’am, we are just trying to get all the facts first-”

I’ve given them to you three times, if you can’t comprehend then we’ve got a bigger problem!” Sakura fumed and the officers stood. “We’ll call headquarters and see what we can do. Technically it has to be 48 hours before we can report and adult as missing-”

“Just get out please,” Madiyson sighed. She held open the door for the officers who hesitated, their feathers obviously ruffled.

“I’ll try calling Amare again.” Sakura stood and walked out after the officers left. Madiyson locked the door and stared up at the clock, realizing she should probably call T’Challa.

“Hello?” Madiyson breathed deeply as the call finally connected to the king, “T, she’s gone,” the woman’s voice warbled but her words shook the king all the same. “What do you mean she is gone?” He stood, immediately stumbling to slip on some shoes and race through the halls to his mother’s room. “Sakura and I came for a meeting, and she wasn’t here. Her car is here but she isn't and she assured us she’d be here taking a shower. Someone else was here because someone was sitting on her bed, at the bottom. You know she hates people ruffling her sheets.”

“Have you talked to Amare? Are you sure she didn’t take her to the airport?”

“We’ve been trying to reach her but she's still on the plane. She would have been back by now if she just went to the airport. She knew we were coming.” Madiyson broke, sobbing into the phone.

T’Challa’s heart dropped, his mind racing back to how he’d begged his lover not to go back until the rumors that her abuser had officially moved were confirmed. Now she was gone and the king felt he had failed to protect her. “Madiyson, Madiyson, I need you to breathe and keep breathing. Did you call the police?”

“Yes, but-“ Madiyson stumbled trying to regain her composure, “they said since it hasn’t been 48 hours it’s not technically a missing persons case.”

The king felt anger rush through his veins, “So they aren’t doing anything?”

“Not really,” Madiyson moved to grab tissue from Amani’s bathroom. “Have her call the detectives over these two imbeciles. She was on 24 hour surveillance due to risk of revenge from her abuser. Them sitting around doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know, I know, I’m heading downstairs right now-” Madison paused as she noticed Amani’s keys on her vanity. “Wait, one of her keys-” Madison trailed off flipping through the keys. “One of her keys is what?” T’Challa knocked on his mother’s door. “It’s missing. When her parents died, she kept keys to all of their properties. With them all labeled with numbers but I don’t know which one is which. Just number three is missing,” Madison ran a hand over her braids and huffed. T’Challa banged on his mother’s door again before taking a step back and pacing the hall. “Okay, You and Sakura just stay there, keep trying to reach Amare. I’m on my way and I’ll try to reach Shuri. See if you can figure out what key is missing.”

“Okay, call us when you land.”

T’Challa hung up the phone, “Umama!” He banged on the door before Ramonda yanked it open. “T’Challa, what in Bast’s name-”

“It’s Amani, she’s missing. We have to go now, can you try to reach Shuri? Her friends think they have a lead but we need to reach Amare.”

“How long has she been missing?” The queen mother rushed back in her room and started to get dressed and pack a bag. “We don’t know, I just got off the phone with Madiyson. They went to the house and she was missing.”

“Did they call the police?”

“They say they can’t report her absence until 48 hours has passed,” T’Challa opened his beads and messaged Okoye. I need you, Ayo, a plane, and five of your best warriors. Meet me on the tarmac in 30.”

“When do we leave?”

“In 30 minutes, I have to pack a bag. Ayo and Okoye will meet us at the tarmac with some back up, can you please try to reach Shuri while I get ready?”

“Yes, I will try calling her.”

The king nodded and turned to rush back to his room. “T’Challa,” Ramonda called out,”We will find her. She will be alright.” He offered his mother a sad smile before continuing down the hall.

“It’s the North Carolina key?”

“Yes. Number 3 it's her favorite number for her favorite house.” Amare insisted as Sakura flipped through the keys again.

“Do you know the address?” Madison interrupted.upiui

“Uh, number 3 Lodge Street Asheville, North Carolina.”

“And you’re sure that is the key that is missing?” T’Challa interrupted Madiyson and Amare. The teen looked at the king through the camera, the lights of the quinjet humming behind her as Shuri watched on. “Yes, I’m positive. Amani is heading to the North Carolina house.”

The king hit the table and turned to his guard, “We are heading to North Carolina. Now.”

“We’ll meet you there-”

“No,” T’Challa and his mother answered at the same time.``You two stay exactly where you are,'' Ramonda demanded. “All due respect, I am not staying over here in Germany when my sister has been kidnapped by her abuser!” Amare rebutted. “Yes, but for all we know he has men looking for you too. As well as Madiyson and Sakura. So until then, at least we know where you are. We are sending Dora Milaje to your hotel.” T’Challa finalized.

“No, I am not standing back when my sister is in danger. I wasn’t there the first time she was saved and opened her eyes, I want to be there this time.” Amare demanded while she teared up and T’Challa sighed. He walked around the desk to look at Okoye and his mother. “You all can head back to Wakanda, once the extra Dora arrive. Once we have her, we’ll bring her back to Shuri’s lab, there you guys can see her.” The king looked at everyone in the room, “Besides, I don’t think it is safe for any of you to be in the US alone right now.”

“So what are you saying?” Sakura sat up from her place on the couch. T’Challa nodded at the general of the Dora Milaje. Okoye tapped her staff and escorted the rest of the warriors out of the home. Once the door had shut the room turned to face T’Challa again. “I have been thinking, especially in light of what has happened to Amani, that you all should move to Wakanda. Stay in the palace of course. I know you two would have to travel for business and Amare we’d have to figure out your schooling, but it is obvious that this government has no vestment in keeping you all safe. I can do something about it and I will, if you all will let me.”

“I don’t know T-” Madiyson started.

“I had been thinking about transferring to study with Shuri, but I don’t know how Amani would take it.” Amare added. “She’s not just gonna give up her independence. She just got it back from Darius,” Sakura added. “I know but it is not safe here, at least for now. As well connected as that fugitive is, who knows what will happen to you all if he goes back to jail. I let Amani convince me she would be safe, and now two months later we are searching for her praying to Bast that she isn’t dead.”

“T’Challa this is not your fault,” Sakura interjected. “I know, but if I can keep you all safe, I have a responsibility to do so. You will have free will and autonomy, but at least inside Wakanda’s borders, I can guarantee your safety.

“I think this is a lovely conversation, but might I remind you all that this is a time sensitive case. Let’s table this discussion until we all make it back to Wakanda” Shuri interrupted the discussion that seemed to be heading towards an endless round table. “Shuri is right, time is of the essence.” Ramonda spoke standing, “everyone comes back to wakanda for the time being. Once we rescue Amani, we send our war dogs to clear any suspicions and make sure it is safe for you all to return. Then we make a decision. Until then-“

“We focus on the task at hand.” Madiyson finished and Ramonda agreed. “Shuri and Amare head back home once the Dora arrive. When we have Amani we’ll let you know.”

“Keep my sister safe T’Challa,” Amare asserted before hanging up. “She’s just nervous,” Sakura reassured. “We are all glad we have someone here to help us this time. But we should get on the road. Darius works fast.” The Afro-Asian waitress added solemnly. The king nodded, “Phambile,” he called and the guards opened the doors escorting everyone to the cars waiting to race to the airport.”

Fourteen Hours Ago

“Amani.” The heiress fumbled to wrap the stick back it s package and hide it on the sink before running out of her bathroom. “Hey,” she offered her younger sister a smile but only received a confused face in return. “Hey, you’re up early, I thought you’d be sleep,” Amare took a seat in one of the overstuffed arm chairs in her sisters bedroom. “I wasn’t feeling well. I got up to take some medicine no biggie,”Amani shrugged. “You go to the doctor again soon right? You should have her check it out.”

“She’s an OBGYN, but I’ll see what she might be able to recommend.”

“Cool, well I’d been thinking-“

“Oh that’s never good,” the heiress laughed as her sister shot daggers her way. “As I was saying. I’ve been thinking about transferring to study in Wakanda with Shuri. It’d make it easier for you to come see Tchalla and I could get accustomed to the culture before we move there-“

“Hey hey, who said we we’re moving to Wakanda?”

“Amani. I’m not dumb or a little girl anymore. I know how marriages and relationships work. I know you live tchalla. I know he loves you. And I know how monarchies work. I also know that T’Challa has asked you to move in or visit more often and that I’m probably the reason you’re hesitant about doing either.”

“You’re right, but I didn’t say anything cause I don’t want you thinking you have to move because of me and T’Challa. I want you to follow your dreams, and dtudying at MIT was one of those dreams.”

“And dreams change, Amare reminded. I used to any to be a ballerina, astronaut, actress, and hear I am studying at MIT. And now, I know that the university of Wakanda can offer me so much more. Plus I’ll get to spend more time with my best friend and take advantage of her lab. It’s a win win!” The young genius insisted. Amani sighed and settled on the chair next to her.

“How about we finish out this fall semester and pick up the conversation over Christmas break. I just don’t want you to regret anything.” The older sister explained.

“That’s fair.” Amare nodded and stood. “Back to you though, are you sure you’re feeling well enough for me to leave?”

“Now you sound like the older sister. I’ll be fine kid, you go have fun at your conference thing in Germany. Have you finished packing?”

“Nope, I wanted to get and early start at the stores so I can pack before my flight.”

“Okay, I’m headed back to sleep. But don’t crash the car and fill up the tank before you come back please.”

“I always do,” Amare smiled before kissing her sister's cheek and slipping out of the room. Once Amani heard the front door shut. She locked herself in the bathroom and unwrapped the third and final test. She sat them all in a row before flopping down on the toilet.

“Shit.”

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