#I’m sorry for disappearing I will be doing it again

[elliespillowprincess]

casual.

a/n: just wanted to let u guys know this fic is inspired by casual by chappel roan!! i think i did see someone else do this so if it seems like im copying i promise im not!! and comment below who made this idea originally!!

c/w: smut!, ellie’s a little toxic, not rlly a happy ending, super short

why you should not support neil druckmann.

listen to casual while u read!!

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“cmon baby, give it to me, that’s it. that’s my girl.” ellie’s hands are pumping inside you at an animalistic pace whilst she kisses you deeply. you’re in your room, music playing from your phone nearby. ellie had come by to eat takeout and watch a movie with you, and it always ended the same way: her deep in your cunt, guiding you through your orgasm, peppering you with praise and kisses, just to get up and leave right after.

you look over to the vase of flowers she got you the other day after your date at the aquarium. you didn’t really know what you were, just that you were something. in group settings she’d act like you didn’t exist, but would text you after to come over.

“please, y/n, come undone on me fuckkkkk.”

“you’re mine, got it? all fuckin mine.”

after she’d make you finish, she’d just get up and get dressed like nothing happened, like she wasn’t just praising you, getting you off, all for your benefit. if you beg her stay, she’d wait until you fell asleep to sneak out of your house, never being there to hold you through the night.

she acted like the two of you were nothing when you’re with your shared friend group, the two of you not even exchanging glances.

this is how it’s been, she’d treat you like a princess in private, and run away as soon as you finished. you wanted to keep your mouth shut, wanted to act like this didn’t bother you, be the cool girl that holds her tongue and gives her space.

but you weren’t.

because this wasn’t casual, you knew it wasn’t, you knew she knew it wasn’t.

but ellie was scared. she was scared of you, of the two of you actually being something. she liked the easiness, she wasn’t tied down to a relationship, she didn’t have any obligations, it was casual, easy.

she’s knuckle deep in you, praising you as you come undone on her fingers. you try to bring her to your face and kiss her, but she pulls away. “ellie, what- what is this?” you blurt. the sentence lingered in the air like a cloud of smoke, she felt as if she inhaled it and let the truth out everything would go wrong. she stared blankly at you, unsure of what to say back. she gets up, grabbing her things. you can tell she wants to say something but her lips are sealed as though superglue was spread across her lips. “ellie..?” as she’s reaching for the door and beginning to step out, she turns around for a moment.

“it’s casual, right?” she says before closing the door behind her. you were left speechless, naked in your bed and feeling dirty. you text your friends, telling them what just happened.

quinn: dude i’m sorry but you’re a loser

ava: why are you still hanging around her?

you silence your phone, not wanting to hear what they said, even if it was the truth.

you knew it was impossible to be casual with ellie. i mean, your favorite bra was in her dresser. the night she took you to a drive in movie and ice cream after, was the first time you went to her house. the two of you stayed up for hours, her making you finish multiple times. you stayed on the phone with joel for hours when she disappeared for a week, talking him down. how could this possibly be casual?

you let a few days go by, not texting ellie at all. it was giving you anger issues, like she was using you. maybe ellie was right, maybe it was just casual fun.

you open your phone, scrolling to find her contact that previously had hearts around her name, but was replaced by just her name after what she said.

y/n: baby will u get me off again?

els: i’m omw

[pitchsidestories]

eras of us (2) II Ona Batlle x Reader

part 1 I masterlist I word count: 2662

a/n: the second and final part to eras of us with the promised happy ending, enjoy. <3

Barcelona had changed since Onas departure. Or at least it felt like it. She had been such an integral part of your daily life that you constantly found yourself longing for her presence in every situation. Every time you went to training, you were painfully reminded that you were without your best friend.

Time and time again, you tried to convince yourself that this was a decision that every football player would have to make at some point in their career. Still, you could not shake the weird mix of feelings that her transfer had created.

Of course, your team mates noticed that your mood had changed.

After a particular hard training in the Catalonian sun, Leila took you aside before you could disappear into the dressing room: “Ona… she misses you.“

You frowned at her, not sure where the conversation about Ona had come from. “Oh, sure. I think Ona seems very happy on the recent pictures she’s been posting.“, you replied and tried to push past Leila.

Mapi passed the two of you and gave you a wink: “Looks can be deceiving.“

“Listen to her. She’s got that tattooed.“, Leila grinned.

You rolled your eyes. As if anyone could miss the tattoo on Mapis throat.

“Yeah, I know what I’m talking about.“, Mapi laughed, stopping right next to you.

Shaking your head about your two team mates, you heaved a deep sigh: “But what am I supposed to do?“

A mischievous smirk appeared on Leilas face as she reached into the pocket of her warm-up jacket. She handed you a small envelope.

“No worries. Here is your ticket to Manchester and your return ticket to Barcelona.“

Speechless, you just stared at her and Mapi for a few seconds. How long had they planned that?

“You girls are insane!“, you finally exclaimed.

“No, we’re the best.“, Mapi corrected you.

“Thank you!“ You hugged both of them quickly, an inexplicable smile on your lips.

“Yeah, just remember to names us as team mates of the year.“, Leila joked.

You laughed: “I promise I will.“

“But now go before you miss your flight.“, Leila said, moving out of your way.

“Okay, got it. See you two soon!“, you called, hurrying into the dressing room to take a quick shower and race home to pack your suitcase.

“Good luck!“, Mapi shouted after you.

Smiling, Leila watched you disappear into the dressing room while wiping away an imaginary tear: “Our children grow up so fast.“

Alexia who had suddenly appeared next to Mapi, shook her head: “Leila, not all the gays in the team are your children.“

“It feels like they are.“

A few hours later you were at your best friend’s new home in England. Quickly you went up the stairs, feeling slightly breathless once you reached the right floor before you ringed the bell next to her surname plate.

Onas’s jaw dropped when she opened the door to her appartement in Manchester to see you standing there in flesh and bone:” Hello?”

“Oni, hi.”, you greeted her back, feeling your heart pound heavy against your chest at the familiar sight of her.

Still stunned she blinked: “You.”

“Yes, it’s me.”, you replied, running one hand through your hair, the other rested on the suitcase.

“What are you doing here?”, the defender furrowed her brows.

“I’m sorry how I reacted when you were saying you’d leave.”, you apologized, while looking guiltily down to your feet.

Hearing these words, Ona clenched her teeth:” It doesn’t matter.” But you could tell from her reaction that this was a lie.

“And Leila said you missed me.”, you added biting your lip as you spoke.

 “Maybe I did. You’re my best friend.”, she confessed. Lifting your head to face her again, you realized that the English weather made her look paler, but the freckles were still there.

Rather childish you responded: “Still? You seem pretty happy in Manchester now.”

Before answering your question, the United player showed you the old friendship bracelet you’ve made for her all those years ago and she was wearing even now although it did look old: “Still. And I’m happy here. The team and the coaches trust me.”

“That’s great. I’m glad they recognize your talent, you deserve it, Oni.”, you told her in an honest tone.

“Thank you. Uhm.. do you want to come in?”, Ona asked you, tousling shily through her bun.

“Sure.”, you nodded nervously while entering her appartement.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting a visitor.”, she blushed as you were taking in the view.

“It’s fine. Really.”, you reassured her. Glancing at the framed pictures which were not hanging up, yet you pointed to them:” Do you want to hang up the pictures?”

“Actually, yes.”

Meanwhile you were holding the first photo in your hands, you couldn’t help but to smile at the young girls which were pictured, celebrating a team win:” I love this one.”

“Oh, me too.”, the defender admitted.

“We all look so small on it, well Aitana still is.”, you commented grinning.

Seeming relaxed, Ona showed you another picture: “Yes, we do but this one is my favourite.”

You knew the photo well, it was taken after your first game for the Barcelona senior team and you spotted your best friend in the stands and went in to hug her, this moment forever being captured by the photographer on the pitch for which you were both grateful:” Mine too, you paused for a second before continuing seriously, we share a lot of memories together, hopefully to many more.”

2023

You could hardly explain to yourself how quickly the time had passed. One moment you spontaneously flew over to Manchester, the next you already found yourself in Australia at the tournament that you had anticipated for so long.

Playing in the World Cup was one thing, but you would never have dreamed of winning the trophy. It still felt surreal. You had just won the World Cup Final against England.You saw Ona walking towards you with a wide grin on her face.

“Ona, we won!“, you cheered.

She wrapped her arms around you: “We did.“

“I can’t believe it yet.“ You escaped her embrace and took in the atmosphere of the stadium and the celebration of your team mates.

Ona stood beside you. “It’s insane, right?“

“Definitely.“

The words hung between you for a few seconds as you watched on.

Ona shook her head suddenly, smiling to herself like she had just realized what had happened in the previous ninety minutes: “We’re World Champions.“

“Oh yes. Remember when…“, you started.

Aitana joined you, placing one arm around each of you and finished your sentence: “We pretended we won the World Cup? Yes.“ With smirk she added: “Do you still know the choreo?“

Onas face dropped: “You’re not going to do that at the actual World Cup!“

“Come on, Tana, we’ll do it.“, you said decisively, pulling the midfielder with you.

There was a small routine of dance moves that you had practiced when you had still played at La Masia together and the actual World Cup felt like millions of years away. Sometimes those dance moves would come out to celebrate a particularly special goal but mostly, they were reserved for exactly this moment.

“Coming!“, Aitana joined you while Ona just shook her head.

Olga elbowed the defender in the side, watching you and Aitana dance in synchrony: “Ona, what are they doing?“

“Being idiots.“, she laughed.

At the same time, Aitana managed to pull her phone from somewhere to capture the moment in a selfie.

“Come on, the photo isn’t complete without you!“, you called over to her.

Ona rolled her eyes with smile: “Ugh, fine. But only for one photo.“

“Perfect.“, Aitana commented as Ona appeared between the two of you.

“Did it turn out cute?“, Ona asked, leaning over to see her team mates phone screen.

“It did.“

The celebrations continued the whole night. There was the initial celebration at the pitch which was then moved to the dressing room and lastly to the hotel. You had no idea what time it was or how many drinks you had but you were clinking your glass with the other players and yelling over the sound of the music: “Cheers, everyone!“

“Cheers, children.“, Alexia laughed, taking her sip from her own drink. She seemed way too sober for your liking.

“Ale, others are the children now.“, you explained to her with the most seriousness you could muster.

Jenni took a shot, grimaced and then said: “You’re still our children.“

“Exactly, nothing will ever change that.“, Alexia said with a gently smile.

“That’s embarrassing.”, Onas’s cheeks turning redder than before.

You were sitting in her lap and hid your face in her chest:” Agreed.”

“What are you doing?”, your friend asked giggling.

“Hiding from embarrassment.”, you mumbled into her shirt.

“So cute.”, Jenni hummed, who didn’t stop looking at you two.

“Let us alone!”, Ona begged the older woman.

She shook her head decisively:” No.”

“Please.”, you tuned in.

Clearing her throat Alexia got up from her seat:” Jen, time to leave the young lovers alone.”

“Fine.”, Jenni responded with a groan but nonetheless listened to what the younger midfielder said.  

“Come on.”, the Barcelona player winked at the dark-haired woman.

For a moment you and your best friend watched them leaving, before you turned around to question her, wearing a mischievous smile on your lips:” What do we do now with them gone, Oni?”

“Celebrate?”, the defender replied grinning.

“Yes!”, you nodded excitedly.

“But you had enough to drink.”, she noted with a laugh.

“Rude!”, you protested.

“It’s true.”, Ona observed.

Smiling mildly at you Aitana came to help her argument:”It’s.”

“See?”

“You two are no fun.”, you grumbled.

“I mean it’s a once in a lifetime thing.”, Ona remarked as she watched you joining the rest of players who were still dancing despite the exhausting final.

Amused Aitana was taking a seat next to the defender:” How does y/n still have the energy to dance though.”

“It’s the alcohol.”, she replied with an eyeroll.

“Definitely. Wanna bet she’s sleepy in like ten minutes?”, the midfielder asked smiling.

“Oh definitely.”, Ona nodded. She couldn’t keep her eyes off you. The soon to be Barcelona player was astonished at how effortlessly and elegant your dance moves despite your tipsiness.

Aitana’s prediction turned out to be true. With a little bit of help from Ona you reached the hotel room you two were sharing. Your eyes were already closed when your head hit the pillow:” I’m not tired yet.”

“Oh sure, I can tell. Good night, y/n.”, she chuckled.

“You too, love you.”, you replied about to fall asleep.

Suddenly Onas’s heart felt pounding hard against her chest when the defender pressed a kiss on your forehead:” I love you too.” She often told you how much she loved you but this time the words hit differently. It dawned on the player that she didn’t want you like a best friend. No the woman felt the urge to be your lover.

2024

“Aitana, I fell in love with my best friend.”, Ona confessed to Aitana with a heavy air of meaning.

A small smile was forming on the midfielder’s lips: “I know.”

“What do you mean you know?”, she glanced at her confused.

“There were so many moments in the past.”, Aitana began.

Still shocked Ona interrupted her:” I only realized it during the world cup final.”       

“In that case you’re very late to the party.”, the friend answered, her face couldn’t hide her amusement.

Bewildered, Ona exclaimed: “Tana!“

The midfielder just shrugged casually: “It’s true.“

“Oh, is it?“, Ona raised an eyebrow at her.

“Ask Ale and Jenni… and Mapi… and Leila. You could literally ask anyone in the team.“, Aitana chuckled.

“It doesn’t matter anyway.“

Aitana eyed her team mate carefully: “It does matter.“

Ona shook her head with a deep sigh: “No, you don’t get it. She told Ale that she doesn’t fancy me and wouldn’t go for her best friend.“

“Wasn’t that forever ago?“, Aitana asked, seemingly unimpressed.

“It was after our training… I feel so stupid…“

“She didn’t have an easy time here when you were in Manchester, Ona.“

“It wasn’t easy for me either.“, the defender admitted.

Aitana looked at her thoughtfully: “Maybe it’s time to talk to each other.“

Ona was quite for a moment before she nodded: “You’re right. Y/n and I need to talk.“

“You should.“

She pulled her friend into a quick hug. “Goodbye, Tana.“

“Bye, Ona.“

Of course, you were paired with Ona to share a room at Barcelonas next away game. Something must have conspired against you. Or Alexia had a hand in this. Ona and you hadn’t exchanged a single word since Alexias intervention after training a few days ago.

Of course, the silence in the hotel room was obnoxious. But you had no interest in changing that.

Ona was the first one to give in, sitting on the bed on her side of the room: “Y/n, stop ignoring me, please.“

“Bold coming from the person who ran away.“, you retorted. You refused to even look at her and instead focused on putting away your clothes.

“I didn’t run away!“

Slowly, you turned to her: “Yes, you did. When Ale talked to me about us.“

You expected her to object but she just looked at you with pleading eyes: “Please, can you just listen to me?“

You sighed reluctantly: “Alright.“

“Thanks.“

“So?“, you prompted her impatiently as soon as she stopped talking.

“Y/n…“

“Yes?“

You could tell that Ona struggled to get the words out but the suspense was almost killing you.

“I like you.“, she finally said.

“More than a best friend?“, you asked, surprised by how hoarse your voice sounded.

“Yes.“, Ona nodded.

You shook your head. Your gaze directed towards the ground, you whispered: “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.“

Ona had gotten up from the bed and bridged the gap between you two. Her hand gently found your cheek, forcing you to meet her eyes. She was so close, you could count the freckles on her face.

“Can it really ruin our friendship if we both want it?“, she asked quietly.

You slowly shook your head: “No, probably not…“

“I think we should try it.“

For the first time, your brain was silent. There was no counterargument you could think of. There was just your heart hammering in your chest.

“Agreed.“, you breathed.

And before you knew it, your lips were on your best friends. Ona hummed into the kiss, pushing harder against you and parting your lips with her tongue.

It knocked you off balance. You landed on your bed, Ona on top of you. You both giggled but refused to remove your lips from each others.

“Oh. My. God. Finally!“, Mapis voice called out, startling you.

“Mapi!“, you yelled at the exact same time, looking at your team mate who had just stumbled into your room.

She flashed you an innocent grin: “Sorry.“

“What do you want anyway?“, Ona asked, a slight hint of annoyance in her voice.

“Uhm… I was about to tell you that we’re starting to have dinner?“ There was no sign of remorse on Mapis face, just pure amazement at what she had just walked into.

“We’ll be there soon.“, Ona replied politely.

“Just give us a few more seconds.“, you added.

Mapi smirked: “You two know that Ale will sense it immediately?“

Ona nodded: “We do.“

“That’s why we need time to prepare ourselves for it.“, you joked.

“Okay, See you later.“ She disappeared through the door with a wink.

The two of you were alone again.

Ona bit her lip to hide a smile: “We don’t need time to prepare ourselves, we need time to make out. That’s what you meant right?“

“Yeah, I did.“, you admitted with a laugh.

Dinner could wait. Kissing all of your girlfriends freckles could definitely not.

[brooooswriting]

Hi would you write for a Leighton x reader where r forgets to take their adhd meds and they get really overwhelmed and they just ‘disappear’ and nobody can find them and they’re just in Leighton’s bed trying to de stress, and the first place they thought of was leightons because they feel safe and calm with her?

Where were you?

Leighton was about to have a breakdown. She hasn't seen you for over 24 hours, and she hasn't heard from you for about 5 hours now, which wasn't normal. The last time she really heard from you was this morning when you texted her good morning, and since then, nothing. She didn't think anything about it since you would always join her and her roommates for lunch but you were a no-show.

So, she texted you, but nothing. She asked your friends and again nothing. And when no one could reach you and nobody found you, a bit of panic went loose in all your friends. While your friends and Leighton went crazy, you were quietly laying in a bed.

Leighton’s bed, to be exact. The covers were pulled up to your head as you soaked in the blonde’s smell, which lay atop you like a protective barrier. All the stress, negative thoughts, and feelings nearly disappeared. Yesterday, like the idiot you could be, you forgot to take your meds. You didn't really notice until suddenly every small thing started to annoy you and overwhelm you. The fact that you didn't know the reason for it made things even worse until you figured that you forgot your meds.

By now, Leighton, her friends and your friends were on a search mission for you. They knew how you could be and if you went offline in every sense that could mostly mean bad things. So, Leighton searched in your building complex and the gym, Kimberly was looking through the dining hall and the shops, Whitney was going to the donut shop close by and your friends were looking through some of the lecture halls. Bela decided to look for you in the library after getting a hoodie from her and Leightons room.

The girl stalked inside, typing on her phone as she slammed the door open. She hummed as she searched through her closet, grabbing a nice one and turning around just to let it fall when she saw someone in Leightons bed. “Leighton? I thought we are going to search y/n” she questioned as she stepped closer. “Leighton?” She pulled the covers back a bit just to see y/h/c and eyebrows that definitely didn’t belong to Leighton. “Y/n?” She mumbled to herself before sighing.

She exited the room with her phone in hand to let the others know. “Leight? I found her, she’s sleeping in your bed” she explained as she got an apple sauce from the mini fridge.

“You gotta be kidding me. I’m going to kill her” the blonde grumbled and hung up the phone making Bela giggle. Leighton was fuming, not because you were in her room but because you were sleeping in there peacefully while she was freaking out. The dorm room slammed open making her roommate flinch, “is she still in bed?”

“Yeah, she’s dead asleep I guess” she explained but was mostly ignored as Leighton was already slamming the door to their room open. Bela decided that she didn’t want to be a part of this so she left and told everybody that you were fine.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She screamed as she pulled the blanket off of you, making you whine. You stuttered something out that wasn’t understandable. “Why are you just sleeping here?” She questioned as you carefully sat up, her relief that you were fine overwhelming her and making her miss your shaky hands and wet eyes.

“I- I am sorry. I didn’t think that you’d be mad about it. I mean you gave me the keys after all” you stuttered again and avoided any eye contact with the mad blonde. Her anger seemed to subside though as she started to see the weird way you were behaving and the tears in your eyes.

“Why did you come here?” Her voice was much softer this time, but she kept her distance as long as she didn’t know what was wrong. You scotched back against the headboard and pulled the blanket over you again.

“I forgot to take my meds and i didn’t even notice until I suddenly felt annoyed by everything and everyone and I started to have panic and anxiety and headaches and tantrums and I was so frustrated and normally I would have called you but the headaches made it impossible to look at my phone. So…” you hesitated to keep talking as Leighton sat next to you, her arm wrapped around you pulling you closer to give you comfort.

“So the first place you thought of was my bed?” Your head was laying on her shoulder which made you miss her smile when she said that. Trusting someone has never come easy to her but trusting you was like breathing, it came natural to her.

“I-yeah. I’m sorry if I overstepped, it’s just the thought of your perfume and all of this around me made me calm down already” you explained further playing with the fingers on her hand that wasn’t wrapped around you.

“Gosh, now I feel like an asshole. I love the fact that you thought of me first and felt comfortable coming here, I was just scared. Nobody had heard from you for over five hours and that is never good so I thought that maybe something had happened. I’m sorry I was so rude when I came inside” it was easy to know that she was telling the truth, her voice was so soft that it was impossible that she was lying.

“No, I get it. I would have been mad too. I’m sorry I didn’t text, it just slipped my mind” her arm squeezes you a bit tighter, which was her way of showing that she understood and was fine with it. You stayed in a comfortable silence for a moment before you noticed your headaches coming back, you often had them after feeling frustrated and overwhelmed. Your shifting was an obvious sign to the blonde by now.

“How are you now?” She questioned, looking down at you with a look that told you not to lie. It was smart, you would have tried to lie but she had a different kind of power over you.

“My head still hurts” you quietly confessed, looking down at the blanket that was covering your legs. Leighton sighs and leans over to get some medicine from next to her bed.

“Here take these and then turn over so I can cuddle you while we take another nap” she insisted, not leaving any space for arguments which, again, was smart. It was rather early in the day and you knew she still had classes.

You mumbled a thank you, took the pill and turned on your side facing away from the blonde so she could hug you from behind. The light was quickly turned off and a text was shot to her roommates to be quiet when they came home. “Leighton?”

“Yes love?”

“Thank you for caring” you weren’t quite at the ‘I love you’ mark yet, so this was the best you could do. You had both shown how much you loved each other throughout the day; you could only think of her during your worst moments and she would have torn down the campus to find you.

“Thank you for feeling safe with me” she pressed a kiss to your head and pulled you closer before you both drifted off to sleep.

[rainylana]

“My pussy.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

warnings: language, smut, fingering, rough smut, dom!eddie, use of a vibrator, spanking.

summary: eddie finds your vibrator in the bathroom.

to the anonymous user, thank you for requesting!

You were sitting in front of the tv, crisscross on the floor as the Andy Griffith show played in front of you. You were clad in your socked feet and matching pajamas, putting polaroids in your album. It was a calm night, a sweet, romantic one you and Eddie were spending together, just a relaxing night in.

“Hey, babe!” Eddie called from the bathroom. “Come take a look at this! You’ll never believe what I found!”

You grimaced. “In the bathroom? Gross, Eddie! I’ll wait out here, thanks so much.” You chuckled, shaking your head at him.

The sound of a high pitched whirring flooded your ears, and immediately, heat went to your face. You pounced up. “No, no, no, no, no!” You screeched and screamed, running to the bathroom.

You found Eddie, leaned up against the sink and smirking, looking proud and cocky as ever. His hand propped him up against the sink, the other swung your pink vibrator side to side like he was trying to hypnotize someone.

You screamed. “Eddie!” You quickly leapt for it, but he stood tall and held it above your head.

“I don’t think so!” He tsked. “Didn’t know you had one of these laying around. Am I not satisfying you?” His eyes darkened playfully, making you roll your eyes.

“Oh, please, Eddie, drop it.” You jumped to reach it. “Please, forget you- Jesus, you’re tall!”

He scoffed and handed it to you, buzzing still loud and when you got it, you quickly switched it off, face burning and hands shaking from embarrassment. “Sorry you had to see that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He bounced off the sink to follow you into your bedroom. “We could have had some fun!”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I guess it’s just private, I suppose.”

Eddie smirked, taking a long stride over to you. He put his hands on your shoulders. “Well, my dear, I think I’ve been missing out. What do you say we add a little something new to the mix?” He kept his eyes on you, slowly walking you backwards to your shared bed.

You wiggled your brows and hummed, matching his lips in a hot kiss. You both fell to the bed in a heap, clothes flinging off to the floor one by one. You squeaked when he gripped your hips and spun you around, putting you face first into the mattress. He grabbed you and lifted your hips up to meet his face. She smirked, spitting in his fingers and rubbing them up your slick cunt. You gasped, reaching out to grab a pillow.

“Uh, uh.” He smacked your ass, making you squeal. “Keep your hands still.”

He pushed into your pussy, standing behind you at the foot of the bed. You moaned pathetically, drooling into the pillow so quickly it barely had even started. That’s the way sex was with Eddie. He knew you so well, knew all the right buttons to push.

You couldn’t help but blush when the sound of your vibrator turned on, and when it pushed at your clit, body bent over and ass up, you sobbed, a tear pushing past your lids. Eddie knew how stimulated you got and how quickly you did so. “Fuck,” You cried. “Oh, let me me feel you, please!”

“No.” He turned up the speed of the toy, smacking your ass with his free hand. “You wanna play with yourself without me? Then you’ll take your punishment and enjoy it.”

He spanked you again and again from cheek to cheek, making you jump out of your place and yelp from the sting of his hand.

“It’s mine.” He sneered. “My pussy.”

“I’m sorry!” You sobbed. “Just fuck me please!”

He slipped the vibrator into your cunt, the pink tip disappearing inside of you. He thrusted it in and out of you quickly, smacking your ass here and there until you were near purple with bruises. You saw stars as you came, panting heavily and shakily.

When you collapsed. He stood there with a dumb, goofy grin on his face. “See? Fun, right?”

[forsworned]

That Keegan post you made had me clutching my PEARLS! Your use of words was so masterfully done! I really loved the new vocab I learned while reading your work.

Your depiction of the relationship was also so so nice. Very loving and attentive and just so sweet. I could tell they loved one another and had already established boundaries that they knew they shouldn’t cross. The ending was lovely as well, a great way to tie things up.

Thank you for writing it! I’m excited to see what else your lovely brain comes up with!

-🧢

Whispers in the Woods: A Stranger's Shelter ft. OfftheGridCowboy!Keegan Russ

Sypnosis: When Keegan finds you petrified, running for your life from creatures unknown to you in the Haunted Appalachia trails after sundown, he takes you in for the night. Things get a bit crazy...

Warning(s): Mentions of Sexual Content, Violence, Petnames (?), Blood, Supernatural Horror (?), Eventual Smut, Barely Proofread, Reader is 28 and Keegan is 30, Reader is also AFAB

Word Count: 7.5k (enjoy keegan lovers ;)

Author's note: Blue cap anon thank you so much for inspiring me to write for Keegan. Honestly, I really love how this fic turned out and I hope you do too. I am so sorry I took so long to reply to you but you seriously warmed my heart so sosososo much when I read your message. I did not mean to put you on the back burner for this long/ Just know I have put so much effort into this to provide you a solid work so I hope that is a good enough excuse to have such a delayed response. Also so glad that you learned some new words LOL that really tickles me tbh, but I want to work more with the relationship that reader builds with Keegan in general or with any character x reader I write. So please enjoy this :)

edit: i think it's lowkey not living up to my expectations but ummm fuck it we ball

Sparks fly as the firewood in the pit crackles, casting an orange ember over you and the stranger sitting in front of you. His eyes, reminiscent of the cool, blueness of winter are lingering on you, and his heavy, leather jacket drapes over your shoulders to shield you from the chilliness of the early April evening. With his black cowboy hat slightly tilted upward, you note the black bandana covering most of his face, adding an air of mystery to his appearance.

"You really shouldn't be out here." His voice edges a precarious tone, though you cannot determine if it's toward you or whatever lurks in the abysmal woods. Maybe it was both. Your fingers curl around the distressed tanned hide, fiddling with the stitching of the material. A shudder careens through the columns of your spine, goosebumps trail over your skin, and the fuzz across your neck rises briefly.

"Don't look. Don't even acknowledge it." He instructs, steadying his gaze on you as he tinkers with the butterfly knife in his gloved hand. "W-what?" You gasp out, eyes reaming as your quivering vision sets on the embers of the pyre. A sinister presence harks over your convulsing body, heart palpitating out of your tightening sternum. But as soon as it arrives it departs and you're left heaving for the oxygen that was stripped from your lungs.

"I'm not gonna ask you again, what are you doin' walkin' around aimlessly in these mountains?" He repeatedly latches and unlatches the metal object in his hands, his gaze fixates on you. Truthfully, you were lost. When the engine of the old Dodge that you inherited from your grandfather abruptly cut out as you passed through a dead zone, it was all hauling ass from there on out. Classic damsel in distress situation.

Your father and he had both warned you about the Appalachian mountains. How apex predators inhabited the woods, preying on the innocent, ripping flesh apart on sight, or disappearing into the ghastly woods to never return. But, of course, you wrote it off as fearmongering. Never had you experienced the soul-crushing, harrowing existence of unidentified, cryptids lurking within the lacunas of the evergreens.

"My truck it—" You start to say, but the sound of him exhaling loudly cuts you off and you glance up at him with misery strewn across your features. Doe-eyes glimmering from the wetness that was welling in your oculars as your lips tremble. He outstretches his arm to the lantern on the perched log, "I've heard enough."

He begins to get up, extinguishing the flame, smothering it with what seemed to be a bag of salt and you felt fear creeping back into your system.

"Come on." As the pyre's embers fade, the lantern's switch emits a squeak, coaxing the oil flame to life, while the blood-curdling shrieks send shivers down your spine, ringing in your ears. And as if on cue, you cling to his side and he lets out a soft huff, feeling your arm coil around his.

The inferno acts as a bulwark from whatever is skulking around the both of you in the obscurity of the night as you move through the forest. You catch glimpses of shadows trekking about, seemingly running away from you now. A stark contrast from the previous frantic sprint through the woods in your petite, white frilly prairie dress that was now tattered at the edges and puffy sleeves. Now, you were safe. At least you certainly hope so.

A tiny light enters your line of sight in the distance, and you can only assume that that is his home. But you were still heeding the noises and images being molded in front of human eyes. It was as if the veil was lifted here, a supernatural existence in the vast mountains and woods of the Appalachia. You don't know whether to be terrified or fascinated, but you keep quiet as he silently leads you down the desire path to his home that is etching itself a little more into the horizon.

Approaching the home, you begin to notice the clandestine features of the house. A zephyr sweeps past you and the distinct smell of lavender and sage gently brims into your senses. You visibly shudder as the steps creak under your weight, your arm remains tucked into his own as he fishes out his keys and unlocks the door. Like a gentleman, he gestures to allow you in first and he follows closely behind, shutting it behind him.

"Shoes off at the door." He directs, treading past you as he tosses another piece of firewood into the lit fireplace.

What the fuck?

Is he just not going to acknowledge the paranormal manifestation that incurred upon them just now? The shadows of unearthly skinwalkers who infest the woods, who are prowling out there now as they barricade themselves from the outside? What is stopping them from forcefully intruding into his home?

You finally catch your breath for a moment, still feeling your heart hammering against your chest before you speak. "Are we not going to talk about what we just saw?"

"Nope." He simply replies, from another room and you blink back in surprise. Then it sinks in.

Of course, how could you forget? How can you forget the rules of the Appalachia, that were engrained into you as a child?

If you see something strange in the wilderness, no, you didn't.

If you hear something call your name, no, you didn't.

If you hear screaming in the Appalachian mountains, especially a woman's scream, no, you didn't. 

If you feel something stalking you, do not run.

Never, ever, whistle at night. 

Never go into the woods at night.

Never leave your windows open at night, even in the summer and honestly, the list dragged on and on and on.

Most of it falls on deaf ears never believing in the legends, and yet, here you are shaken up by things you never thought existed in a stranger's home who found it in his heart to shelter you until what you suppose would be dawn.

A wavering breath escapes you as you take a long gander at the well-maintained colonial home. The timeless and heirloom quality of the home becomes evident upon analyzing the vast array of paintings and framed photographs adorning the walls, each depicting individuals with strikingly similar features—dark brows, thick lashes, and mesmerizing steely blue eyes that seemed to penetrate your soul. You can't quite make out the framed artwork through your muzzy vision, but it's eerie the way you can't quite pinpoint why the face was so recognizable to you.

Exposed wooden ceiling beams motion your eyes to the inherited items and the mounted deer skull above the hearth. The warmth emanating from it felt different, soothing, lulling your quivery limbs. You oblige and kick off your boots, padding behind him as he draws out his gun from his holster and places it on the mahogany table. He removes his cowboy hat, hanging it on the horseshoe hat rack adjacent to the fireplace revealing his tousled short black locks. As he begins to unmask himself, a small gasp leaves your lips, fixating on his newly exposed features. And he was goddamn handsome and unusually reminiscent of someone from your childhood embarked into the backlogs of your memory, but of course, you brush it off.

And although he hears it, he does not acknowledge it as one hand grips the wooden chair and the other runs over his dark stubble. He's pensive. The last thing he needed was some heretic woman living under his roof for Lord knows how long. At this point, he decides that you are his responsibility and he cannot shirk from that for that would be unbecoming of a man like himself and he was raised better than that.

He glances up at the painting of his father above the hearth and you take note of the reflective state. His daddy was the embodiment of a Cowboy. Gentlemanly, charming, nifty, and always genial, providing the best hospitality a person could provide. No way, he'd accept Keegan kicking you to the curb, leaving you out for those creatures to rip you apart. Plus, his father would simply rise from his grave and kick his ass.

"You hungry?" He pays no mind to your lingering, bewitched eyes as he moves to the kitchen and you like a lost puppy trailing behind him. "Got some leftover potato leek soup."

And as if on cue, your stomach growls and he glances at your hand over your tummy. You flush from the embarrassment of your stomach being that raucous. He cocks a brow at you and you can't tell if he's amused or annoyed. Probably both. "Go sit." He points his chin to the table by the fireplace and you pad back to the living room, the tempering sensation of the flames causes you to become drowsy. You loll your head to analyze his stature. His figure towers over all of the antique appliances in the kitchen, muscles flexing as he prepares to reheat the soup on the stove. Rolling up his sleeves to reveal his taut, tanned forearms to open the cabinet and pull out the loaf of handmade sourdough, slicing it evenly and efficiently before tossing it in the toaster.

His form becomes a bit hazy as you lay your head against the top rail of the chair, mesmerized by the allure of his broadened shoulders, and soft pink lips that all by hide the peeking tongue indicating his concentration in preparing you a homecooked meal. Keegan never has guests over, in fact, no one is ever daft enough to come running around this way anyways because locals know better and tourists are too scared shitless to even enter this part of the Appalachia. He likes it like that, away from everything and everyone, being able to maintain his family's ranch that was inherited by him at the ripening age of 18.

His mother moved out to the suburbs because the death of his father was far too devasting on her already weary soul to continue living her days out on the farm. But Keegan doesn't mind it. He handles the livestock with ease, providing care to the birthing cattle, and maintaining the operations of the facilities as a whole to keep his honest living thriving. It's all in a good day's work for him. So caring after you shouldn't be too much of a hassle right?

You're suddenly awoken to the soft clatter of the bowl being set on the wooden table, the savory aroma of potato leek soup, and freshly toasted sourdough bread. He sets a glass of water beside you before he pulls his seat adjacent to you with his food.

"Eat." He orders, waiting for you to take a spoonful of thick soup. You hesitantly lift the spoon before glancing up at him. He blinks back at you, realizing the weight of his indiscretion, and whisks the soup with his spoon before noshing on it as if to tell you that is not poisoned nor drugged. Your other hand takes the bread in between your fingers and he mirrors your actions, claiming a bite from his own and you visibly relax.

The soup is scalding to the touch, but you welcome the sensation when you get a taste of the heavenly whipped soup. Not a single lump, just the smoothest, most savory supping of such a simple hearty soup instantly heartening your disconcerting body right down to your unsteady hand.

"I'll fix your truck as soon as dawn breaks." He flashes a glance before breaking his bread and scooping it into his soup. "Make yourself comfortable in the guest bedroom." He gestures with his hand to the upstairs.

"Oh, I couldn't—" You begin to say, but he will have none of it.

"You're not going out there until the sun's out." He replies simply, as he lifts his glass of water and sips from it. You observe the way his Adam's apple oscillates under his stubbly throat and you swallow thickly when you realize he's gazing at you keenly.

Warmth spreads to your cheeks and your eyes are now following the pattern of the wood grain. "That's…very kind of you."

"'s just the human thing to do." And there is an emphasis on the word 'human'.

You begin to play with your soup, scooping it up and letting it fall back into the bowl. "Right." Your voice is soft as you try to block out the memory just moments ago.

He narrows his eyes as if to study you. "What's your name?"

You glance up at him, and you're almost a bit hesitant to tell him. You almost want to lie, but you decide otherwise. "[Name], and yours?"

"Keegan."

"Keegan what?" You press. He raises a brow at you as he chews on his bread.

"Russ."

Russ. An esteemed surname that was echoed throughout your household during your adolescence. Presley Russ was a handsome and genial man who appeared at your father's porch steps every so often, tipping his hat at you with that charming smile and those glacial hues that made your heart jump. He'd invite your daddy out for nights at the rodeo or sipping on Highland Gaelic Ales on the porch from the afternoon til midnight, biding his time between Maryland and North Carolina.

You never quite caught glimpses of his son when you were living out on the ranch before you moved out for college, but you did remember a time when you ventured out past sunset in the abandoned village in the Black Hills you knew better than to be in when your daddy had to travel to Wheaton for the grand opening of his old buddy, Presley's restaurant accompanied by his reclusive son who you never remembered the name of. But for God's sake, who was stupid enough to go treading alone around the same location as the filming of the Blair Witch Project?

But you were a skeptic at best until you heard the unrelenting repetition of your name being called which led you astray, causing you to stumble over your own feet and ultimately collide with a rock that rendered you unconscious. Soon enough, you felt yourself being carried back to your home in the arms of the Russ boy with the hardened steely gaze that intently stared down at the knot forming on your forehead. You had never shut your eyes so quickly and the sound of his soft chuckle, caused you to be even more embarrassed as you were being handed off to your worried parents who were more than relieved and thankful to have retrieved you.

Of course, you had to act like you were unconscious. It was already humiliating enough that you were old enough to know better, but being ferried by a cute boy like you were some helpless damsel in distress was just mortifying.

But that was long forgotten by you in hazy summer days during your teen years before you went off to college and moved out into the city. In reality, you had written it off as a dream, a hallucination concocted by that vivid and graphic imagination of yours. That was always the case with you and the Appalachia. Always the non-believer.

But part of you was hoping that maybe he didn't recognize you after all this time, and yet the way he is staring you down is beginning to feel like otherwise.

"Blair." He suddenly says matter-of-factly as he taps his finger at the table and nods again. "Blair." A small toothy grin creeps on his lips before he chuckles.

Your eyes reaming as your heart drops to your stomach. "What?"

"Black Hills, you're the daughter of the farmer right up in Garrett County."

You feel the warmth blooming on your cheeks. He knew. "I—How do you remember that?"

"Knew you looked familiar." He dives back into his steaming soup. "Was tryin' to figure out where I'd seen that necklace of yours." He juts his chin, pointing to the family heirloom that kisses your clavicle. It had been passed down for generations to the women in your family as a symbol of health, wisdom and longetivity. You feel for the 20k gold pendant with lilac and sage engraved into the soft metal.

He looks as if he's stifling another snicker. "Think you pissed yourself a little when I found you unconscious."

Now that gets you real flared up. The abrupt change in mood was beginning to wrack your nerves. You sigh knowing that at the very least you were in good hands. Familiarity begins to set in as he breaks the ice, creating a more comfortable atmosphere between you two.

"I did not!" You puff your cheeks out at him and he's tickled pink by your endearing, agitated reactions.

His gleeful grin only grows to his eyes. "Now, who willing goes into the woods by themselves when they know damn well what kind of activity breeds over there, hm? Gotta death wish if you ask me, kid."

You open your mouth to say something, but it clamps shut. You don't know whether to be abashed by the way his face lights up like the stars in the heavens above, or by the fact that he remembers that you pissed yourself a little through your favorite pair of khaki parachute shorts in a known marked area where people have gone missing. The stark realization of it being a tangible memory was mussing at your trepidation towards him. But he's teasing you now and it stirs a strange kind of desire in your lower belly as you uncomfortably shift in your creaky wooden seat.

Pushing your bowl away, you avoid responding by guzzling down your water and then calmly placing it back down.

"I'd like to get ready for bed now, if you don't mind."

He jovially raises his eyebrows as he munches on the last of his bread. The smirk still curled up on the corners of his pinkened lips.

He wipes the crumbs off his hands and thumbs either side of his mouth before he gets up, gesturing to you. " 'Course not."

You stand up and politely push your chair in as you track behind him up the croaking staircase. Your body is practically heaving with every step and by the top of it, you're feeling a bit winded. Keegan decides to keep his comments to himself as he ushers you down the grandiose hallway. The walls are painted ivory, and wall sconces are tapered candles on held-up aged tin nailed into the parapet. Hardwood floors are well kept, but the small divots in between the grain quickly reveal the age.

He jingles the knob to what you suppose is the guest bedroom, but it seems to be locked. His fingers fish into his pocket and you watch as he phalanges through the set and then finally picks out the antiquated rusty skeleton key. It's honestly a bit jarring that it requires a key to fasten the door, but at this point, if you're being kept away from the monsters lurking outside you'd be happy to be his little prisoner for now.

He pushes the door and it moans open, though much to your surprise it's polished and orderly. In the middle of the room is a wooden four-poster queen-sized bed, with a princess-like sheer white canopy that surreptitiously envelops the bed. The furniture is a bit more romantic with detailed carved patterns on the bookshelves that line up against the wall to the vanity that sat adjacent to the bed. The carmine curtains that drape over the large window, easily maneuver you to the balcony, and the soft calling of your name beckons you to open it…

A sturdy hand clasps over your shoulder and you jolt as you turn to him. He's shaking his head as he towers over you and you look so goddamn feeble with those damn bambi eyes of yours shimmering in the tiny sliver of moonlight that peeks out from the window. He tears his gaze away to tread over to the window, squeezing it shut with the velcro he sewed into the fabric and reinforces the window shut.

A sharp exhale leaves his nostrils and his eyes are on you again. "I totally can see why you ended up the way you did." He glimpses over your dirtied and frayed dress, skinned, bloodstained knees, and contusions running up and down your legs. God, he makes it so easy to feel self-conscious.

He licks his lips as he hovers his hand over the knob to his right, and signals you over. You begrudgingly stride over and you're just as impressed at the bathroom. From the massive mirror above the traditional wooden undermount double sink vanity to the wine-red clawfoot freestanding bathtub. Little golden trinkets pinstripe the rosy walls with the soft warm lighting of the hanging flowery ceiling light fixtures. You squint your eyes when he adjusts the radiance to a white glow with the dimmer light switch before he opens the drawers one by one.

"Towels, robes, spare clothes, toiletries. Gimme a shout if you need anything else."

You open your mouth to say something and his eyes playfully narrow at you. "—within reason, missy."

Your bottom lip reflexively juts out. You hate to admit it, but you were quite the spoiled child. Never receiving more than a gentle chide from your parents and always silver-spooned to the nines by your grandparents. The truck was an exception. More of a parting gift from your grandfather that was left to you for the sole purpose of memorabilia scored into every inch of the tarnished vehicle. You hope that Keegan is capable of fixing it since most parts were made by discontinued distributors and they were definitely not easy to come by as they were expensive.

"Christ, spoiled rotten, weren't ya?" He ribs, nudging you a bit and you frown at him.

"Was not." You childlessly retort, but the small smile on your face betrays your feeble attempt at contempt.

Fuck, she is so cute. Keegan thinks as he assimilates your hilly yet winsome appearance. Just as cute as he remembers when he was seventeen, ignorant of the malignancy that poisoned his father's lungs.

"Not as much as your daddy spoiled you." You shoot back and cover your mouth with your hands as his brows lift in half surprise and half revelry.

"Blair's got jokes now, huh?" The elicitive nickname indicative of your former years sends another rushing warmth to your face and you begin to shoo him out.

"I'd really like to be clean now, thank you." You cast a scowl his way and he's putting his hands up in surrender as he backs out of the bathroom followed by the bedroom.

"I take it that the lady needs her privacy now." He leans against the doorframe with his hands stuffed into his denim jean pockets that are dusty and darkened with wood ash and the smell of the campfire lingers on his skin.

"And her beauty sleep." You add on, folding your arms. His jacket is still resting over your shoulders and he chuckles at your Hello Kitty print socks. The way your hair was mussed up in the soft glow of the lantern lamp on the night table was starting to arouse him a bit.

Fuckkkkkk, you were so adorable. It might have taken every atom in his body not to bend you over the mattress and spank you for being such a dotty woman before pressing his cock past your velvety folds as he makes you apologize in the form of incoherent, dirty little whimpers.

But the thought is quickly dismissed as it's formed in the sullied cogitations of his mind.

"Good night, [name]." He murmurs in his husky voice yet there is a hint of mischief in his tone that sends a frisson up your spinal column.

"Good night, Keegan." You susurrate, as you slowly shut the door and his expression remains the same as your view of him narrows until it disappears behind the threshold.

"Christ." You mutter to yourself as you begin to get ready for bed, as you feel the rush of collywobbles in your stomach start to well up a craving for the cowboy. The time on your cracked phone screen reads 2:03 AM and a wave of exhaustion crashes over you at the realization. Had you really been out there for seven hours?

The warm water soothes your aching bones and forming scabs scattered across your body as you gently exfoliate your skin. Thankfully, Keegan had enough sense to drop off a first aid kit by your door before you slipped into the bath. You weren't looking forward to the sting of the antiseptic, but you were more than grateful to be alive and have all your limbs attached. As you close your eyes and let the sudsy bath take away your worries, a coaxing voice is entrancing you. At first, it begins as a hushed lull intermingled with what sounds like your name and a bit of white noise that makes your brain all fuzzy and warm, but it becomes audible. Forming coherent luring words that resemble Keegan's deep, raspy voice.

Drown, drown, drown.

And you promptly find yourself submerging into the tub and the stillness of the water is subduing, but something is instigating you to open your eyes. You push away the thought, taking in the tranquility, settling into the comforting sensation of weightlessness. And yet, the feeling is not leaving you. You internally sigh as you move your body to the surface, but you remain dormant. Your eyes shoot open and your blood runs cold.

Above is one of the most fear-inducing creatures that you have ever laid your eyes upon holding you down on either side of your shoulders with slender claws digging into your flesh. It resembles a caribou skull with elongated antlers but its eyes were a violent vermillion that penetrates your soul. Its body was dark, rickety, and harrowing. Bones astute against the matted onyx fur and its tongue hanging out of his jaw like it was ready to devour you. Panic surges through your veins as you thrash about but it drives its talons further into your skin and you shriek out in pain. Water enters your lungs, your heart is stammering at cardiac arrest speed and you're choking out for dear life. This is it. This is how you die and the worst part about it is, you couldn't even call out for hope from the man who saved you just moments ago.

But just as you're accepting your fate, the muffled sound of a gunshot pierces through the air and within seconds the skinwalker is incapacitated and then dead. Soon enough, you're being hoisted out by Keegan's strong hands, as you cling onto him naked, wet, and heaving for oxygen.

Water expels out from your esophagus and you're trembling even harder than you were before when he found you, grasping to him and he's immediately talking you down.

"It's alright, you're okay. You're okay." He soothes, one hand tenderly caressing your soddened hair and the other is gripping your body tight as he pulls you out of the tub. He wastes no time unplugging the drain and wrapping you in a large towel to cover your naked body. In all seriousness, Keegan didn't even take a second to gander at your naked form when he was gathering you out of the tub and he makes that clear that his sole objective was to eliminate the wendigo that trespassed into your sanctuary.

He could've sworn that he had locked up every single opening in the house as he does every single night. It was like clockwork to him ever since his father had shown him the ropes to the place.

"…Kee-keegan." You splutter out as you continue to clutch onto him and your body is saturating him with water. He doesn't care though, that was the least of his worries. Your eyes are reaming and glossy as you dare to peek down at the creature that was seconds away from letting you meet your maker, but there's nothing but ash on the tiled floor.

"It was—" You begin, peering up at his harking steely eyes and his jaw tightens.

"It's gone."

"I don't understand." You shake your head, trying to make sense of what just happened, but the soft clatter of the rifle hitting the bathroom counter delineates your scattered mind. "Oh. But—"

"Get dressed." He softly prompts and you shakily let go of his t-shirt and he hands you an eggshell-colored peignoir as he averts his gaze. He's cognizant of the post-distress and panic you're in, so makes no indication of reallocating himself away from you as you slip on the fabric nor does he provide an explanation for what just occurred.

And to be honest, you didn't want to know. There was nothing more disturbing than the encounter with death in the form of a mutated caribou that leaves you shaken up. Everything just seemed too difficult to wrap your little head around, so let him take care of you.

A fresh towel is on your head, soaking up the wetness tangled into your hair and you relax at his balmy touch.

"Thank you." You mutter as your eyes are cast downward, eyeing the imbued, darkened spots on his nightshirt.

He delicately hooks his index finger and thumb between your chin and lifts it upward as he dabs at your features with the towel. And then it lingers. His intense yet pensive gaze, his stout calloused thumb that is now brushing against your jaw shortly followed by your quivering bottom lip. His jaw ticks.

"I'll sleep in here tonight."

Your heart jumps rampantly against your chest. "What?"

"You almost died if it weren't for me."

"Yes, but it's not—!" You fall short of words yet again and you're tearing your gaze away from him. As dire as the situation was (and it was), Keegan cannot help himself from being just the tiniest bit entertained by your endearing little mannerisms.

"I'm not gonna sleep next to you in bed." He deadpans. Normally, he would let you stumble over your words, but exhaustion is seeping into his bones and even as a noceur himself he was in desperate need of some z's. "The armchair over there quite comfy."

You follow his eyes to the brown leather recliner that was beside the bed and then back to him.

"I'm tired, Keegan." You profess, leaning your head against his chest and he's absentmindedly rubbing circles into the small of your back.

"I know."

Typically, you wouldn't be this comfortable with a stranger but given the unusual circumstances that were currently trying to slaughter your ass, you found yourself seeking solace in him.

"Let's get you into bed."

And soon he's leading you back to the bedroom, his hand is still on the small of your back as you walk on wobbly legs. He peels off the comforter and you sink into the mattress feeling like royalty in your crisp, clean nightgown, in your large princess-like bed, surrounded by plush pillows as the light in the lantern flickers. It casts shadows over his dashing features. The flame turns his glacial eyes into a soft apricot and an expression flickers over his visage—concern.

He's harping over your safety and the intruder that happened to bypass his heavily guarded home. No tripped wires, no movement detected on his cameras, and not to mention not a single sound was made until he heard your thrashing in his room across the hall. If he hadn't been there in time—

"You saved me, though." You drone, shutting your eyes as you tuck yourself into the cotton sheets.

His hardened glare softens at your words and how you look at ease now. A testament to your full, unshakeable faith in him. God, you were so quick to trust, it honestly scared him a little for you.

He scoffs. "How can you be so sure that I wouldn't hurt you?"

"Because your father would resurrect and beat the absolute shit out of you if you even dared to think about harming me." You state with a sly smirk on your face.

Keegan's expression briefly falters before he lets out a snicker, acknowledging the truth in your bold proclamation. "Crafty little critter, aren't ya?"

You giggle as shift under the sheets. It's almost a bit disturbing how you are seemingly fine and brushing off the situation. "Maybe."

He peers down at you for a moment and the welcoming feeling of your radiance starts to crawl into his chest. Almost like you were right where you needed to be, in his home, in his bed under his safeguarding. He wants nothing more than that. It's almost a bit perturbing how you are seemingly fine.

"Go to sleep." You mumble.

"You go to sleep."

"No, you first,"

"Who else is going to shield you against creatures of the night?"

You pause for a moment. "Good point."

He smiles as he walks over to the armchair, gun propped up against his left leg as he sits to face you. You're already curling up in a ball, and your chest rises and falls at a tranquil pace.

"Good night, Blair." He feels his eyes drooping as his vision becomes bleary.

You chuckle at the idiotic nickname. "Good night, Cowboy."

The remnants of tiny, foolish smiles are left on your faces as you drift off to sleep in your respective spaces. The last passing thought that crosses your mind is Keegan's tender gaze and his fingers brushing against your lips. Keegan wonders what is making you so giddy before the world around him fades out.

As morning breaks, sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on the room. The spring breeze wafts into the wisps of your hair and your eyes flutter open. The seat in front of you is now empty and the balcony door is wide open, and yet you're calm as you rise out of bed. Birds are chirping and the incessant droning of cicadas buzzing loudly against your eardrums is merely white noise when you recognize the low rumble of your truck's engine pulling up. There is an urgency that surges within you and soon you're sprinting out the door, and the heat of the cobblestone stings at the soles of your feet but you don't care.

The engine cuts and Keegan climbs out of the truck, sleeves rolled up in his army green henley, and he's wearing a clean pair of relaxed, light-wash jeans that skim the leather of his Tecovas. He peers up at you with wintry hues, tipping his hat, and in that instant, you're transported back to your childhood—Mr. Russ, tipping his hat with those same eyes and that glorious smile that always made your heart race.

The resemblance was both striking and uncanny, but damn, you were totally not complaining.

"Mornin', little lady. You're up quite early." He puts his hands on his hips and he's no longer the stone-faced, vendetta-filled Cowboy that you met last night. He's your friendly Appalachian Cowboy who provides you the sweet, sweet southern hospitality with a charming smile and a bit of a North Carolinian twang that sets your groins on fire.

"Mornin', Cowboy. Fixed my truck, did you?" You lean against the French iron wrought railing with your ruffled hair and white nightgown, rippling in the slight draft that carries the healing scent of sage and lavender. The fabric forms around your body and Keegan notices how it traces the outline of your curves and how the sun is hitting you just perfect enough for you to look like a literal angel.

But it's still the unrelenting, disconcerting feeling that creeps up on him when he looks up at you so unbothered, airheaded with that buoyant grin on your face. Was it really just a facade?

"Fixed it good enough for you to get back on your way." He turns from you to the truck and then back to you. "By the way, where were you headed?"

"Back to the old man." You cross your leg over the other, waiting for his response. He watches as the skin of your legs peeks out from under the peignoir and it's a bit enticing.

"I didn't contact him if that's what you're askin'" His hand acts like a sun visor to block the light out of his sensitive eyes to take a good gander at you.

"I would hope not. Don't need to send him into cardiac arrest." You joke and you see his shoulders shaking a bit, suggesting a chuckle.

"Made you breakfast."

"Yeah?" You simper, leaning a little more against the railing.

He can't help the way his grin broadens as he peers up at your flirty form. "Careful now, can't have you comin' back home with a broken neck, can we?"

Shit. Shit. Shiiiiit.

Goddamn him and his pretty face. He's already heading inside as you're locking in on him, but Keegan isn't one to give you the satisfaction. He'll play the long game and he'll enjoy every minute of it. From the way you're sitting next to him at the table with your dress bunched up to your thighs to the way you sensually lick your spoon covered with cream and he's internally chuckling at the mess you've made on the corners of your lips, feigning gullibility to get a rise out of him. Admittedly, it's hot. He wants nothing more than to lick your fingers clean and sloppily kiss your sweet cream-laden lips.

Mmmm.

He doesn't say anything. Just enjoys his breakfast and keeps his gaze lowered like a gentleman. The company of a beautiful woman is enough for him on a fine Sunday morning like this.

You can only wonder what he's thinking as you act like a giddy schoolgirl who's trying to get the attention of her professor. Not that you had a significant age gap with Keegan, but in his original line of work there was a massive lapse. Being a retired Marine had probably mentally aged him over give or take 10 years would have been your best guess. And leaving the farm to his cousins in his absence probably impacted him even more, well, according to your gossip girl of a father at least.

He made trips down to NC every so often to check on his favorite, reclusive cowboy, sometimes tending to his facilities when need be. You never tagged along though. In your mind, you were a city girl who didn't mind dressing up as a cowgirl if she saw fit. So coming down from your city job, in the comfort of your sweet loft that overlooked the NOVA skyline didn't exactly make you miss the Appalachia trails.

Still, it is nice being back here with a somewhat familiar stranger in a home you had only seen the outside of because, for the majority of your life, you had so desperately tried to force out the rural in you. Call it toxic, but leaving the mountains always felt like the haze had lifted from your brain. It was unsettling to be here for too long.

"You're nervous."

You glance up from the runny eggs that you have been working on for the past twenty minutes. You give him a sheepish grin. "This place makes me nervous."

"Itching to go back to the city, huh?"

That elicits a small chuckle from you. "And what do you know about me?"

"Well, according to your father," He says in a knowing tone and you narrow your eyes at him as he gives you a coy smile. "you love the city too much to move back."

"I don't think I'm too good for it. Here, I mean."

"Didn't say that. The Appalachia isn't for everyone." He butters his toast and then munches on it and soon it vanishes into his mouth. The night before is washed away from your memory, but Keegan loses track of his thoughts as he stares at the leftover jagged lines embedded into your skin from a creature that he knew you wanted to forget. A glance at his watch and he's up, wiping his hands and mouth with the serviette that was on his lap before he places it on the table. "You ready?"

"You got somewhere to be?" You raise your brows, not quite ready to leave yet.

"Matter o'fact I gotta date with an employee from Tractor Supply Co in about an hour, and it's thirty minutes out."

"New livestock?" You sip at your coffee.

A sad smile graces his lips. "Yeah, my last eldest cattle just passed away a few weeks ago."

You frown. "I'm sorry."

For a moment you swear you saw him get teary-eyed, but he quickly shakes himself out of the grief, grabbing his keys as he downs his glass of ice water. He stops himself for a moment as you get up to push your chair in and he can't help himself from tracing his fingers over the claw marks on either side of your shoulders. You shudder from the remembrance and his touch.

"[name]," He starts to express but your mood sours.

"Stop."

His expression falters and so does his hand as he lets it drop to his side. You didn't want to remember any of it. He notices how you clutch onto your necklace and he drops the subject.

"Your trucks waiting." He takes your hand and deposits the keys into your palm.

You give him a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you."

You begin to approach your truck and you feel relief washing over you as you run your hand over the tarnished, rusted hood of the Dodge before you open the driver door. As you climb in you notice that all your belongings remain untouched. Scattered cassette tapes, polaroids, and the little Hawaiian girl that swayed with every movement still plastered onto the dash. The leather seats seem to have abrasions, revealing the cushion beneath, but you write it off as a bear maybe deciding to try and access your vehicle after you had abandoned it.

"…[name], ….[name]….!"

You're snapped out of your stupor, recollecting your thoughts as you glance over at him leaning his body against your truck. "I checked the vehicle, it's all clear for you to go. Should make it back alright."

"Why wouldn't it be if you fixed the engine?"

The look you give him is blank, free from concern and any worry that may have been left on your face from last night.

He nods, pushing his hands into his jean pockets. "Right, well, it was nice seeing you all grown up."

That provokes a reaction. Heat is rising to your cheeks and Keegan is standing there looking cool as ever as he takes off his hat and wipes the sweat off his brow before putting it back on.

"Thank you." You say with more feeling, only your eyes acknowledging the horrors of last night. And that's enough for Keegan.

"You take care now." He tips his hat with a good-natured grin and you snicker at his little cowboy bit.

He waves to you as you back out of his driveway and you glance over from your rearview mirror as his towering figure disappears and so does any anamnesis from the evening prior. Or at least, you told yourself that.

And that was April. Months have gone by and Keegan doesn't exactly expect you to keep in contact. He's even surprised to hear a, '[name], says hello, by the way.' from your father during their weekly check-in.

And he definitely does not expect to see your truck in his driveway when he's coming back from milking his cows for the day with his new set of eyes that's in dog form, wagging her tail in anticipation as she sits.

"German Shepherd, eh? Suits you." You simper at him, leaning against the pillar of his home with glossy lips, and a cutesy red paisley swing dress that just barely covers your thighs. Your boots are hardly broken in as they dig into the grassy field and your hair is a little disheveled in an endearing way.

"Name's Miley." He peels off his gloves, shoving them into his back pocket. He's completely taken aback by your sudden presence, though he's not one to complain about a pretty lady showing up at his door.

"Hey, Miley." You coo, holding your hand to her and she's immediately reciprocating your energy tenfold as she jumps up and down, causing you to giggle and pet her soft fur.

Keegan doesn't even need to say anything as he glances down at the German Shepherd and she's already sitting on the ground between you two.

"Miss me?" You ask, coyly.

"Could ask you the same thing, Blair." He tilts his head to the side, eyeing you suspiciously. Something was off.

"I was just in town."

"Uh huh."

It doesn't take long before the act drops and distress is carving into your features. Lips are trembling in fear as your eyes begin to water.

"Something's been following me, Keegan." Your body naturally falls against his chest and his breath hitches a bit at your contact and the smell of your perfume wafts into his senses.

Fuck.

mini taglist: @keegansshark @soapsgf @milkteaarttime

[sykostyles]

subject to change 1.1.1 (a check in)

wc: 2.2k summary: in which Harry shows y/n something new but it involves his store. part one part two

a/n: hi again! its been a while! I'm sorry I kinda disappeared, but I promise I have been around. After reading miss @gurugirl update the other day for bfd!Harry I needed some more breeding kink so I snuck some in here as well. I hope you all enjoy!! I’ve missed you all!!

cw: smut, use of sir, exhibitionism, breeding kink, cream pie, standing sex, brief spanking, choking if you squint, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), if there's any I missed pls let me know!

Ever since that night in the hotel with Harry, your relationship had been going strong. Every night, you’d go into his bookstore, and take claim on one of the couches in the seating area to work on your daily editing while he worked on closing down the store. He’d watch you make your concentration faces and think they’re some of the cutest things he’d ever seen. Sometimes you’d even meet a reader and have a chat with them as they perused the store. More people were stopping in lately to purchase holiday gifts for their loved ones, it helped that your latest release was always fully stocked at Harry’s House.

“You look annoyed,” Harry commented, taking a seat next to you on the couch. 

“I am,” you huff, leaning into his side as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, placing a kiss atop your head. “I can’t figure out this idea, it's not anything we’ve done before so it's hard to imagine.”

“Well, Sweets, we’ve done quite a bit. Can you be more specific?” Harry always asks for the exact thing you want, making you squirm and he loves it.

“Like whe–when you get turned on from the possibility of getting caught.” your skin starts to get clammy from talking about these things out loud; it always did. 

“Oh, you mean exhibitionism?” his hand runs up and down your arm, leaving goosebumps with every pass.

“Is that what it is? I thought it was voyeurism.”

“No, that’s when you get turned on from watching other people.”

“See there’s so many terms i don't understand yet,” whines leave your lips, he just chuckles at your mini meltdown.

“I can show you if you want,” he whispers in your ear in your favorite tone of his voice, his warm breath tickling your skin.

“Sh–show me?” When he speaks to you in that tone, it doesn't take long for your core to throb.

He nods in response, a grin on his lips. “Mhm, but you have to be a good girl and wait until I close up. Can you do that for me, baby?” he asks, taking a hold of your chin and placing a kiss on your lips. You form a cute smile, your eyes glazed over in anticipation as you nod your head in his hold. “C’mon, baby you know better. Need words from you,” he laughs.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he gives you another kiss, “You stay here and work on your story, I’ll be back there closing down. I’ll let you know when I’m done, okay?”

“Yes, sir.” you nod excitedly, making him chuckle.

About thirty minutes have passed and you’re getting antsy. Harry’s never made you wait when you were feeling like this before, so you don’t really know how to act. You stand from the couch, and make sure the door is locked before making your way back to Harry. So what if there was still five minutes before closing? You were feeling needy. 

“Thought i told you to wait?”

“Can’t sir,” you whine, leaning against the counter next to him as he counted the money in the register, not paying you any real attention.

“Too bad,” he continues slipping the bills between his fingers as he took mental note of the amounts before writing it in the book.

“Please, sir?” you begin fidgeting with the hem of your skirt, playing with the material as you look down to the floor.

No answer.

“Sir?”

Nothing. He just keeps counting the money

Your tone switches, you’re tired of being ignored. “Harry.”

He still doesn't respond, just sets the money down and looks over to you with irritation laced in his gaze. “Turn around,” he grunts, taking hold of one of your wrists. Harry walks up behind you, pressing his front into your back, making your hips dig into the counter in front of you. You hiss at the feeling. “What happened to you being my good girl? Hmm?” he takes hold of both of your hands, placing them on the counter in front of you. “Keep these here, yeah?”

Harry slides his hands down the expanse of your body, squeezing your hips as he makes his way south and gliding his hands up your skirt and tearing your panties off. The tearing sound makes you gasp. He slides the scraps of what was left into his pocket for safekeeping.

“Now, any of those people out there–” he begins to whisper in your ear. He pulls your hips back, leaving you in a slight bend, your lower half still pressed against him as he speaks.”--can look in here and see you being a little whore for me,--” he flips up the hem of your skirt exposing the skin of your ass.”--So I suggest you go back to being my good girl and be quiet.” Your eyes remain locked front; staring straight out the window as the people walk by without a clue.

He begins massaging the skin of your ass before lifting one hand off and bringing it harshly down against the surface making you jump and yelp loudly at the contact.

“Quiet,” he growls against the skin of your neck. Sliding his hand over your asscheek, he makes the journey around to your front, teasing where you want to feel him most. His other hand snaking its way around your throat, pinning your head against his shoulder as he begins to rub slow circles over your clit. Quiet pants leave your lips at every pass. 

He speeds up; testing your ability to keep quiet. You take your bottom lip between your teeth when you feel him slide two of his fingers deep in your core, scissoring them inside your gummy walls. Every twist of his wrist makes you want to scream out his name, but you know the fate you’d meet if you did. Tempting, but also horrifying to be seen by all the people walking about, buying gifts for their loved ones. Your legs begin to shake once his fingers repeatedly stroke over that spot he knows you love.

“You gonna cum?” Harry asks, knowing full well you’re about to. You nod as much as you can in his hold in response. “Then cum.”

And you do, hard. The grip he kept on your neck was the only thing keeping you standing. A mixture of grunts and gargle sounds fall from your lips as you teeter over the edge and he pulls every bit of arousal from you possible. 

“Which hole do you want stuffed, pet? Hm? Which hole should I stuff with my load for all of those people to look over and see?” His words feel like a dull blade running up the curves of your throat, setting your skin ablaze even more so than the fading orgasm he brought you to with just his fingers.

Harry lets go of your throat so you can speak, “My pussy please,” you choke out, leaning forward on your elbows against the counter below. 

“Yeah? Wanna feel me fill you up full of my babies? Hm? Wanna be all swollen and plump for me?” his primal insticnt to mark you as his in for any passersby to see. 

“Mhm! Need it so bad, Sir!” whines leave your lips faster than you can comprehend the words coming out.

“Gonna give it to you, Sweets don’t worry,” he opens the front of his pants, pulling his cock from the confines of his boxers before swiping his thumb over his tip to smear the precum around the surface. You feel him rub his length up and down your folds, tapping it against your clit making you a whiny mess underneath him. “Gonna be quiet for me or do i need to shut you up early?”

“Shut me up early,” you beg, wanting whatever he’s planning on giving you. His hand smooths up your back, wrapping it around your face, covering your mouth and pulling your head back as he pressed into you. Your eyes cross at the stretch and your muffled whines fill the air.

“Such a good pussy,” he moans softly, “always sucking me in so nicely. Think I’ll make a home in her.” you moan in response. “Yeah? Want me to make my claim for good? Knock you up?” You nod your head faster than you can process his question; you just know you want whatever he’ll give you. “Hm, do you think you deserve it?” you nod some more.

His thrusts are tantalizingly slow as hes speaking to you; never quite giving you what you want. He’s repeatedly giving you languid strokes but then switching, and pulling all the way out and then shoving just the tip back in; driving you mad. You want more. You need more.

“I don't think you do, I have to cover your mouth in order to keep you quiet so these people aren't disturbed outside. Doesn't seem like a very ‘good girl’ thing to do.” you whine at his words, wanting more. 

“Please,” you try to muffle, he just repositions his hand across your mouth.

“Sorry pet, what was that?” Harry teases.

“Please!” you yell out after pulling his hand from your mouth to finally speak. An older woman hears your words, looking into the store. She just smiles at you and moves along, not thinking anything about the scandalous position you were in. A harsh smack lands on your ass in response.

“Gonna have to work on keeping you quiet,” Harry reaches down, pulling your torn panties from his pocket and balling them up. He pulls your head back again. “Open,” he demands. You lull your tongue out as your mouth falls open. He offers you a warm stream of spit before tucking your torn panties into your mouth and forcing it shut. Harry lets go of your head, coercing your upper half down on the counter, and taking hold of your hands as he finally sets a more brutal pace, driving your hips forward into the counter with every thrust. 

Whimpers and whines fill the air as well as the sound of his clothed hips making contact with yours. “Fuckin tight pussy always treats me so well,” Harry grunts, “Gonna fill it up nice n’ deep for you, sweets.” Whines of approval leave your lips. The coil in your belly is pulling further and further as it gets ready to snap. “Gonna cum again, baby?” he asks. You nod your head fervently at his words, making him chuckle. “Give it all to me, pet. Cum for me,” Harry pleads.

His pleas make the coil snap; sending you over that metaphorical peak. Feeling your walls clench around him so tightly sends him into his own orgasm as he chases his own high. He buries himself inside as deep as he possibly can as he releases his load into you. “Fuck, sweets, gonna milk me dry."

Sticky sounds fill the air around you as he continues thrusting in and out of you, unable to let go of the warm feeling. He’s imagining the look of fucked out bliss across your face and he smiles as he comes down. The feeling of you still wrapped around his cock feels like heaven to him. He’d stay like this forever if it was feasible. He was addicted to hearing the whimpers fall from your lips, though he thinks he'd rather hear you call his name from now on. Nothing compared to that for him. Knowing he was the one giving you the pleasure you were feeling.

After he pulled out, harry was quick to clean the mess between your legs with his tongue. Quickly dropping to his knees behind you, deftly ignoring your pleas of “too much,”

“Just cleanin’ up our mess, baby,” he spoke against your core; the vibrations almost too much. You reach back, attempting to shove his head away but he slaps your hand away. 

“So that was exhibitionism?” you asked, slipping into the bed beside Harry as he pulls you to his chest.

“Mhm, kinda hot right?” he asks, placing a kiss atop your head.

“I liked it. I was so terrified and turned on when that woman looked inside,” you admitted, pulling the covers of his bed up and over the both of you.

“I’m glad you liked it, and I’m also glad I’m the only one with access to my security cameras in the store.” he chuckled against your hair.

“Oh god, I didn’t even think about that.” you laughed. You begin thinking back to the act, and how he talked about getting you pregnant. “Would you really want a baby with me?” you asked timidly.

“Course I would. I mean, right now wouldn't be optimal timing, but I’m not against the idea. Why? Is that really sticking with you?”

“Mhm, I liked the idea of having a little bit of you with me forever.

“I like that idea too, Sweets,” he places a soft kiss against your lips.

“Now what about voyeurism?” 

c/n: hello babies, if u made it this far I LOVE YOU! leave me a 😈 if u’re here :))) thank you all for the love along this couples journey. I’m not ready to let them go either. I’m thinking of just carrying on with their story? Maybe? Perhaps? But I also have a few other ideas I want to work on! We shall see my loves. Let me know what you’d like to see though! 🩵

[mikanotes]

happy birthday xiao i love uuuu here’s a really bad fic i wrote while very tired. sorry i couldn’t make anything better but TT oh well! /late spring ft. xiao x gn!reader warnings: none really? they’re dating except neither of them know idk. some existential talk. possibly ooc xiao i’m so sorry & i think that’s it!

A soft, soft breeze drifts through the curtains of Xiao’s room. There’s the gentle pitter patter of a rain calming down and the scent of nearby Silk Flowers. It’s all so gentle that Xiao feels this might be what mortals describe as feeling like one is floating on a cloud.

He stares at the horizon and heaves a quiet sigh, before letting his gaze dart towards a piece of paper on the desk by the window. Again. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t looked at it a hundred times since seeing it appear in his room following his daily patrol and fights against monsters.

Surprise was what he first felt, then something he doesn’t know how to name that made his heart tighten painfully, then something else that made it difficult for him to both look at the letter and look away from it all at once. He still feels that ache in his heart when he thinks about it, somehow, but it’s not really painful. It’s not the kind of pain that causes worry. He figures it’s closer to excitement than anxiety. He’s not sure.

In any case, he’s sure whatever he feels is way too much in comparison to the contents of that paper sheet.

“Hi Xiao! It’s me. I’m sure you know, right?

Is it alright if we meet up at Qiaoying Village?

When the moon is highest, maybe? No worries if you can’t come. If you only have a little time, no worries, it won’t be long. See you there, I hope.”

There it is again… He nearly curses under his breath, fingers coming up to tighten at the fabric of his top, right above his heart, twisting again.

He takes a deep breath and easily dispels the feeling, though he begins to worry about the ease with which something so simple makes his chest react so strongly. He looks up at the moon and decides his incessant checking has lasted enough, before taking a step back and disappearing from his room.

Qiaoying Village is like the Harbor in a sense. It’s full of life, full of people, and the exact kind of place Xiao usually avoids. But a village is always easier. It’s arguably much less crowded and the people tend to have unspoken rules about not being too noisy around a certain time of the night. So when it’s this late, and up from a nearby hill, it’s not half as bad as it would usually be.

“You came.”

He shifts his gaze your way and has to pretend he isn’t surprised. He isn’t, but it took him a second too long to notice you. His heart picks up in speed again and he clears his throat quietly.

Shush.

“You called. What is it?” he asks casually, taking a step closer to you. You’re sitting at the edge of the cliff, your bag settled on the grass with some sheets of paper and flowers peeking out. Is that Qingxin? You hum quietly, eyes trained on the horizon, then sigh. You seem to be pondering over how to answer. “Should I give you more time?”

“Give me a break, is what you should.” you retort, scoffing jokingly. He chuckles silently at that and decides to come sit at your side.

“Is this about my day of birth?” he asks, looking ahead as well, “I told you you don’t need to make a big deal out of it. It’s just another day.”

“It is.” you agree, tone sounding somewhat melancholic. Then you turn to look at him, gaze a bit persistent on getting him to do the same. He swallows thickly and glances at you.

“… It is.” he repeats quietly, blinking. “So?”

“You’ve lived really long. When did you stop celebrating your birthday? Did it become meaningless?”

Big talk. He’s not too surprised. There’s no point in not being honest.

“What if I never started?” he asks blankly. It’s not really meant to be rhetorical, either. “I don’t know what’s meaningful about this. It’s not as if I remember the day, either.”

You laugh softly at that. “No one does. That’s not what’s meaningful about it.” you say, gaze moving elsewhere. He doesn’t look away.

“Then?”

There’s a moment of silence, and he hears you hum faintly. It’s a long enough moment to let his mind wander to the clouds again, to that peaceful and heart-ache-inducing place where he thinks about you. He thinks about you the whole day, then thinks about you when you’re right in front of him. It isn’t the first time it happens, but it does feel stronger when it’s his birthday.

Then to him, this day…

“It’s meaningful in different ways for everyone, I think.”

“Really?”

You turn to look at him and frown. “You look elsewhere.”

He waits. He doesn’t know what for. (For his daydream to end. It doesn’t. You’re the dream in front of him. He’s cursed to ‘look elsewhere’ as long as you’re on his mind, he thinks, but there are worse things to be cursed with.) Then he shakes his head a little bit. “I’m here.” he states, “Why is your birthday meaningful?”

You make a face like you’re not buying his previous statement, for some reason, then huff.

“I don’t know. I can’t tell.”

He’s surprised. He tilts his head a little. “You… Can’t?”

You nod. “It feels like it lost meaning over the years. Maybe because I’m growing older? In any case, maybe it doesn’t actually need meaning…”

“You sound like you’re backtracking because I called you out.”

“You don’t need to point it out. Isn’t cake enough, anyways?!”

He scoffs softly. “Then what are we doing here?”

You look at him for a long few seconds, and this time his mind isn’t allowed to go anywhere. Your gaze anchors him where he sits and he can’t go anywhere else. He has no escape. He can only look at you. “Because I think it’s meaningful. I’m glad you were born, and that you exist, and that I get to exist with you.” you say, and he’s almost in awe at how easily all of this came out of your mouth.

“I…” I don’t understand, is what he wanted to say. But he thinks he feels blessed to be allowed to live a life where he got to meet you. So that just wouldn’t be true. He does understand. “I see.”

It’s been a few years since you’ve known each other. Around four birthdays, he recalls. You’ve been celebrating his birth on this day each year since you two met. It should make sense, then, that you cherish him. It should go without saying that you want to celebrate this day with him. But some part of him still can’t believe you really care this much. Before, he would have never dreamed of anyone caring so much about him they would even remember the day he was born. He thinks he would’ve probably forgotten it if it wasn’t for you.

Birthdays are meaningless for a Yaksha. For someone who lives so long and so alone. However he’s not alone, anymore.

So then to him, this day is now meaningful because you’re there. Because you invited him. Because you continue to remind him it matters to you. Because you want to celebrate that he was born, and that he exists. It’s meaningful because you care about him.

“Should I say it more clearly?”

“More clearly?”

“I hope I can remind you I’m happy you’re here for every year you and life itself allow me to.”

If Xiao’s heart hurt before, then he doesn’t know how to describe the way it feels now. It’s at least ten times worse. You’re really willing to waste this day each year, aren’t you? He wants to sound annoyed but he feels anything but.

“I don’t think…” he takes a deep breath, but it’s shaky. “I don't think it needed to be clarified. I got it.”

You unfortunately seem to catch on to how flustered he is and lean closer. His gaze hesitates between looking at you and elsewhere several times before settling on elsewhere.

“Your embarrassment is making mine disappear. Thank you, really.”

“So you were embarrassed…” Xiao scoffs under his breath, “Didn’t sound like it. Maybe I didn’t pay close enough attention.”

He feels your fingertips touch his face, silently asking to hold him. He lets you.

“Then pay attention.” you say, guiding his face towards yours. Your eyes are close enough to see the moon reflected in them. Pretty.

“I am.”

“Great.” you smile, “Happy birthday.”

Your palm is cold against the skin of his cheek. He swears your skin is usually the warmer one. Is his face warmer than usual?

He looks away. He can’t help it. “…Thank you.”

Your hand is even colder. No, his face is warmer. 

Then you pull away and he misses how cool it felt, so he grabs your hand before it’s too far away, and holds onto the feeling of it in his. You hum in question and he just intertwines his fingers with yours before looking back up. It would seem nonchalant if his face wasn’t still so warm, but he doesn’t care too much. If the sky is on his side the moonlight will only be bright enough to see you and nothing else.

You’re the only one he’ll always be willing to celebrate something so meaningless with. You’ve been known (to him) to have a way of making things meaningful by simply being there, anyways. Maybe he should be the one to get you a gift for that. Flowers? He thinks about your bag again and wonders if you didn’t one-up him, already.

“Did you call me all the way here to talk about the meaning of our existence?” he asks, trying to lighten the air. You laugh and get your bag, not letting go of his hand.

“Nah. I got you something.”

He sighs, and smiles. “Of course you did.”

“It’s simple, okay? Don’t worry!”

[literallyangeldust]

heyyyyy, i’ve read your stuff and i’m literally in love 😍

could you possibly write a angel dust x male reader where angel is struggling after a rough day working with valentino and meets reader at a bar where he works. angel is like lowkey whipped for reader bc he’s like really nice, so he keeps coming back, and eventually reader asks angel out on a date, which confuses him bc he’s not used to people actually liking him for him. and then they fall in love and reader fucks up valentino so he leaves angel alone or something.

sorry this is long as hell, feel free to tweak it and change as you want, i just need more angel so bad 😭

જ⁀➴ Angel Dust x male reader ๋࣭ ⭑

summary: you ask angel out! <3

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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Details: ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

๋࣭ ⭑ Request: requested :D

๋࣭ ⭑ TW: none!

๋࣭ ⭑ Word Count: 261

๋࣭ ⭑ Timeline: after episode 8

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🕷️ - angel had a horrible day and wanted nothing more than to pass out but val had asked him to get more money by visiting a club and picking some rich fucker up. so here he was at a random club in a booth just people watching. soon his eyes landed on the bartender, aka you.

💗 - he thought you were quite pretty and decided to approach you and plopped in the seat in front of you.

“hey toots your a snack~”

“pffft nice to meet you to”

🕷️ - soon he started visiting over and over again. you two got pretty close and soon you asked him out. he was very confused at first. you love him? but after he got over his shock he decided to give it a try. once your dating the visits become more frequent.

💗 - he becomes very clingy and will just visit to have a conversation with you, he also tries to get you to move into the hotel with him. he wants to see you all the time! he also will rant about valentino to you well you work. you feel bad for him but there's not much you could do.

HELP I WROTE THESE AND THEN THEY FUCKING DISAPPEARED!!! so if they are bad that is why cause I was not happy and was so over it so apologies

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Angel walked into the club he's been too many times now. He searched with his eyes till he spotted you working behind the bar and walked up plopping in front of you. “Hey sugar!” he said as he smirked at you and smiled playfully. “Hey Angie.” you made him his favorite drink which you've memorized by now. You slid it across the bar to him and he gladly picked it up. “So toots what's been up with you?” you shrug. “Nothing much, you know I've actually been wanting to talk to you about something.” you set your rag down and he looks up at you curiously sipping his drink. “What's up babe?” you fidget with your hands. “Um.. I actually am in love with you, I have been for a while. I know your struggle with relationships because of Val but I'd be honored if you let me love you.” Angel blushed at this, he was shocked. You love him? Like actually love him and don't just want his body? To be honest he was quite scared.

He sat there thinking for a while. He trusted you so he sighed and smiled at you. “I'll take a chance.” you smile at that and reach for his hands before pausing. “Can I hold your hand?” Angel looks confused. People never ask for consent from him, especially for something like holding hands. Angel just nods and you take his hands with a smile. He smiles back and you stay like that for a long time. Angel finally found someone who really loves him.

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sorry for how short it is! I have 8 angel requests rn so I'm trying my best here fnfnsks

notes are appreciated!! d(･∀･)b

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[morallyinept]

Te Quiero - A Javi Gutierrez GIFLET

Uh, Jett, what the heck is a GIFLET?

Just a short 500 words or less drabble, based on inspiration that I got from a GIF. Simples.

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It's you, bub.)

Word Count: 500

Scoville Smut Rating: None, you're safe. Although this story may be upsetting for some - reader can't get pregnant naturally.

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

GIFLET MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

This GIFLET was inspired by the below GIF 👇🏻

“You told me you wanted to start a family! Don’t fucking lie to me.” 

Your heart sinks. “It’s not what you think, Javi. I love you!”

“DON’T. FUCKING. LIE. TO. ME!” He roars.

You flinch, taking a step back. You’ve never seen him so mad, so angry. So hurt, as his usually soft eyes glisten, horrified at himself that he’s lost it.

Convinced that he’s losing you. 

He thinks you're being unfaithful and you can't blame him for assuming the worst; all the disappearing acts, all the secrecy. The way you push him away when he tries to express his affection as of late. The way you seem so withdrawn and quiet.

You won’t eat. It hasn't sat well with him. Whenever he asks you what’s wrong, you lie and tell him you’re fine. It’s better that way. For him.  

He looks down at his hands, balled into fists and shaking uncontrollably, then looks at you, tears welling in your eyes at what you’re doing to him.

You’re killing him. 

“I am so sorry,” Javi says, stepping towards you, stroking your arms up and down. “But please, if you are going to leave me, just be honest.”

He breathes in, squeezing his eyes shut, resigned to not looking at you as you inevitably break his heart. 

“He’s a doctor.” You whimper.

His eyes flick open, eyebrows pulling together in confusion. 

“Javi… I can’t get pregnant.” 

“What?” He whispers. 

“I-I wanted to be sure. What you saw today was him… telling me. He called with my results. It’s me. I’m the problem. Not you. I can’t give you any babies, Javi.” You start crying as your voice cracks. 

“No. No. No, mi amor. No. Come, come.” He wraps you up in his arms, crushing you to his chest as you sob. “Sssh. I love you. I love you. It’s okay.” He soothes into your hair, kissing your head. “We will figure it out. Adoption, surrogacy. Whatever it takes. We will have babies, okay? And we will love them no matter what. Look at me.”

Javi gently turns your head up to face him, tears streaming down your blotchy cheeks. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. “We will have lots and lots of babies like we planned. And they will be ours, no matter how they come to us, okay?” 

You nod. “You’re not upset with me?”

“No, mi amor. Never. It is not your fault. I am upset for you, but not at you. I am an idiot. I should never have shouted at you.”

“It’s okay, I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry.”

“I didn't mean to make you feel that you could not.”

“You didn't. I just didn’t know how... We wanted this so bad.” 

“We will still have it, okay? I promise you.”

“I love you.” You sniff, as he crushes you to him again.

“Te quiero, te quiero…” Javi murmurs into your crown over and over as he holds you tight in his arms. 

🖤

[iridescentpull]

Wrote a little ficlet inspired by this post. Enjoy <3

In Ramón’s defense, he thought he was no longer allergic to cinnamon. 

He hadn’t really had the chance to eat anything with cinnamon since they were taken to the Purgatory Islands. Then he got back, and the focus was on feeding him actual meals that would heal and strengthen his body again. Plus, Fit wasn’t one to cook things other than avocado toast except for tasks. 

So when Pac asked him if he’d like to try some churros he made, he thought sure, why not. He’d heard food allergies disappear as one grows older, so the same thing probably happened to him. If not, he’s an older dragonling, so he could probably take it. It would be fine.

Probably.

***

It was not fine.

As soon as he took a bite of the dough, it was like his tastebuds were on fire, and that the flames were cinnamon and sugar flavored. He made a face and then coughed as the spices made his throat start to tickle.

Pac was a little confused at his reaction. “Don’t you like them?” He asked, concerned. “Did I put too much cinnamon? You can tell me, I won’t be offended.”

The dragonling shook his head, eyes tearing up as he felt hives rise from his skin. With a shaky hand, he signs. ‘No, they’re good!’ He tried to sign back, before a coughing fit made his hands shake even harder. ‘I’m just... allergic? To cinnamon.’

That made his Pai’s eyes widen. “Wait, are you having an allergic reaction?”

Ramón nodded.

“Puta merda.” The male cussed, ruching to his potion chest and scrambling through it. “Your dad is gonna kill me!”

‘Pai.’ The dragonling tried to sign, but he wasn’t able to do much with the way his hands shook, and his skin was starting to break out into a rash. ‘It’s okay!’

Pac wasn’t paying attention, though, and instead was frantically digging through the chest. He let out a sigh of relief when he pulled out two healing pots and a slimeball. “Here!” He shoved one of the healing pots in Ramón’s wavering mouth, and the dragonling was glad he managed to swallow the entire thing before coughing out.

‘Pai.’ He tried to sign, again. ‘It’s okay. I promise! Fit won’t be mad!’

His father said nothing, too busy mixing the healing pot with the slime to create a healing cream for the hives that had begun to rise. After he created the mix, he gently grabbed one of Ramón’s arm and started spreading it over the hives.

“Oh, this could’ve been bad.” Pac mumbled, as he moved to spread the cream over the hives on Ramón’s neck. “Your dad is gonna kill me.”

‘Fit’s not gonna kill you.’ The dragonling signed, but the other wasn’t looking at him, too focused on treating the hives. ‘It’ll be fine, you didn’t know.’

The older man sighed and looked up, eyes a bit misty. “I didn’t want to hurt you though, nenê.” He said, looking down to grab the other’s arm and spread the cream as well. “I promised to Fit I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Ramón's eyes widened at that, and he bit his lip guiltily. ‘Sorry, pai.’ He signed, looking down. ‘It was an accident, and you didn’t know. I promise I won’t do it again.’

That got a sad chuckle out of his father, who finished applying the cream and moved to gently hug him. Ramón hugged him back, and the two sat there for a bit.

“Thank you, nenê.” He said, before pulling away. “I’ll keep a stock of healing pots and a slimeballs around just in case, okay?”

‘Alright.’ Ramón signed, smiling up at him with that twinkle in his eyes. ‘Dying to an allergic reaction would suck, now that I think about it.’

Pac cackled, shaking his head. “It would.” He agreed, patting Ramón’s hair. “There are way more cooler ways to die.”

‘There are!’ Ramón cheered, making his father laugh. ‘Like hanging!’

The Brazilian’s eyes brightened. “You are so right, nenê.”

***

“You did what?!”

‘Whoops?’

“Ay Ramón…”

[neverevan]

WIP Wednesday 🧇

Heyooo. I have decided that I will give it a go and try to finish this fic during the break and just... not rewrite it. I'd much prefer to keep it canon compliant but that'd mean changing like 70% of the fic and well... it's about 70% written at this point, so. Anyway, I thought I already shared this snip, but apparently I haven't, so here, have some tension between the boys. 🤭

That was the moment Buck looked to his side to see Eddie standing there with that annoying expression on his face yet again; his brows furrowed, his lips a thin line and turned downwards in disapproval, every bit looking like he wanted to say something that'd be too unsavoury to actually let slip. And Buck knew he could’ve handled the situation better, but he snapped anyway. “Hey man, what’s your problem?” “I don’t have a problem.” Eddie said curtly, the expression never leaving his face for a second. “Yeah? ‘Cause it sure does look like you have something to say.” “Fine. I don’t get why you keep pushing so hard to go out with that guy. Isn’t two failed dates a sign? I thought you believed in that kind of stuff.” Buck sucked his lips into his mouth, trying to keep his composure, but frankly? For the first time since they promised to have each other’s back, Eddie was getting on his nerves. “I like him, I’m just trying to see where it goes.” “Like him? Buck, you’ve known the guy for what? A collective fifteen minutes?” Buck was starting to see red and he barely even registered Hen disappearing from his peripheral vision as he fully turned towards Eddie, stepping in closer and squaring his shoulders. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I needed your permission to date someone.” He hissed under his breath, just loud enough for Eddie to hear. “That’s not what I’m saying.” Eddie sighed and Buck could tell that if there was enough space between them, he'd reach for the bridge of his nose, but in lieu of that, he just dropped his gaze in exasperation. “Then what are you saying, huh? I-is it because Jason’s a guy? Is that what this is all about?” “No– You know I don’t care about that.” Eddie’s voice softened, but Buck was already too riled up to negotiate — or to settle. “I’m not so sure anymore.” “Buck,” he sighed again, “all I’m saying is that... I don’t think it’s such a good idea.” “Why? What do you know that I don’t?” “Nothing, it’s just- ugh it's just a feeling, Buck.” He grunted in annoyance, which, honestly? Buck thought was rich coming from Eddie right now. He closed in what little distance was left between them and crowded into Eddie’s space, using the two inches he had over him to drive his point home. “Then take that feeling and tuck it away tightly, before I find a better place for it.” Buck spat, digging his teeth harshly into the f sound and when he walked past Eddie, he clocked him in the shoulder for good measure, without sparing a moment to look back and check if he stood his ground.

✨ I have been tagged by and am totally no pressure tagging the wonderful @sunshinediaz @spagheddiediaz @goforkinard @exhuastedpigeon @nmcggg @bidisasterevankinard @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @honestlydarkprincess @watchyourbuck @actualalligator @bucksbignaturals @thewolvesof1998 mwuahh 💛

[lulublack90]

Prompt 18 - Sock

@jegulus-microfic April 18, Word count 971

Previous part First part

“Well, darling, he sounds lovely.” Effie beamed at her son as they tucked into their meal. Monty had his mouth full. So he nodded in agreement. 

“You’ll have to see if he wants to join us for dinner before we leave. Invite his brother as well. We don’t want to leave him out.” Monty told James between mouthfuls. James couldn’t keep the happy grin off his face. 

“Okay, I’ll invite them.” He said as he stabbed a roast potato and popped it into his mouth.

They sat quietly as they finished off their meals. Effie ordered coffee for everyone, and they chatted about their day. 

“Mum, Dad. Would it be alright if I went back up to see Regulus for a bit before bed?” James asked, hoping his parents wouldn’t be annoyed with him for not spending enough time with them. 

“James, dear. You’re a grown man. You don’t need to ask us permission. If you want to go see him, go.” Effie chuckled and leaned over to muss up his hair. He felt himself reddening. 

“I know that, Mum. I just wanted to check.”

“I’m sure your mother and I can entertain ourselves.” Monty winked at him. 

“Eww, gross, Dad.” James pulled a face, jumped up from his chair, and kissed his parents on their cheeks before darting out of the restaurant and heading towards the lifts. 

The lift doors pinged open, and James was shocked by what he saw. 

Sirius was sitting on a man, pinning his arms behind his back. The man screamed bloody murder at Sirius as he tried to buck him off.

“Ah, James, just the person I wanted to see. Could you help me with this sack of rubbish, please? He’s outstayed his welcome.” Sirius said nonchalantly as if what he was doing was perfectly normal.

“Er, yeah, sure. Who is he?” James asked, still trying to get his head around the situation. 

“This delightful cockroach is Bartemius Crouch Junior. Reggie’s ex.” Sirius clarified. James’s eyes widened as everything clicked together. 

James helped haul Barty to his feet and dragged him to the front desk. He watched as Sirius put on an extremely dazzling smile and charmed the front desk clerk. “This man got into mine and my brother’s room just now. We didn’t invite him.” The clerk gasped in horror and picked up her phone.

“I am incredibly sorry, Mr Black. Please accept my apologies on behalf of the hotel.” She paused to speak into the phone. “Yes, security to the front desk, please.” She turned her attention back to Sirius and James. “I will personally ensure this man never sets foot in our hotel again. Can I send a gift basket to your room as an apology?” 

“I’ve never said no to a gift basket,” Sirius leaned his elbow on the desk and rested his head in his hand, still grinning at the blushing clerk. 

Two identical burly red-haired men appeared out of a side door. 

“Ah, Fabian, Gideon. Please would you escort this young man off the premises and spread it around that he is banned and not to let him in. 

“Our pleasure, Molly.” One of the twins affirmed and grabbed James by the arm. “Come on, sunshine, time to go.”

“Gid, Gid! Not that one, that one!” She pointed at Barty. 

“Oops, sorry,” Gideon immediately let go of James’s arm and took ahold of Barty. He and his brother disappeared out of the lobby. 

“You coming up?” Sirius asked James, completely unaffected by everything that had just happened. 

“Yeah, sure.” James nodded. He waved goodbye to Molly and followed Sirius back to the lifts. 

When they got back to their room, Sirius clapped his hands together.

“Well, that’s that taken care of. He won’t be back.” He proclaimed. James noticed Dr Lupin sitting beside Regulus with a glass of whisky in his hand but thought nothing of it. It had been a weird day. 

“Sirius, come look at this on Reg’s phone,” Remus said, making room for Sirius to sit down. 

“That dirty, rotten little,” Sirius glared at the device. He took a few screenshots and started tapping the screen. 

“What is it?” James asked Regulus. Regulus jumped. He hadn’t realised James had come in with Sirius. 

“Erm, Barty was tracking my phone. That’s how he knew where we were.” Regulus explained, coming over to where James stood. 

“Shit,” James exclaimed and wrapped Regulus protectively into his arms. “I’m glad you’re safe.” 

“Thanks,” Regulus replied, his voice a bit thick. “James? Why are you only wearing one sock?” James pulled away from Regulus and looked down at his feet, confused. He’d slipped his shoes off when he walked through the door and had one bare foot. 

“I swear I put both on.” He checked his shoes, but there was no sock. 

“Check under the other sock,” Sirius called from the sofa, where he was still going through Regulus’s phone. He now had Remus’s arm around his shoulders. James blinked, bent down and pulled his sock away from his leg. Underneath it was another sock. 

“Oh my god!” He shook his head, pulled the extra sock off his foot and put it on the correct one. “How did you know it was there?” He asked Sirius. 

“Been there, done that,” Sirius snorted. “Nearly finished with your phone, Reggie. Then you two can go canoodle to your heart’s content.”

“Sirius, why?!” Regulus groaned at his brother’s words. 

“What? I like this one. He’s 100% better than the last one. There, I’m done. I’ve gone through everything I can think of, and he shouldn’t be able to get in again. You might want to change your password, though, just in case.” Sirius tossed the phone at Regulus. Regulus caught it and pulled James into his bedroom to the sounds of his brother’s guffaws.   

[swiftieblyth]

Troublesome Twin:

Warning list-

hunger games warning, abusive family, mother died in childbirth with the twins, Arachne, Coriolanus Snow, Dr. Gaul, violence, and murder.

I think that’s all, let me know if there’s more!

Word count- 1075

Coryo and Y/N got out of the car to Dr. Gaul’s office. Y/N was struggling to stay awake from the dagger in her leg and the blood seeping out. 

“We’re here, love.” Coryo whispered, picking her up bridal style and carrying her to Dr. Gaul’s office. 

“Snow stormed down, down on his head.” Dr. Gaul let out. “It stormed down on his head, and now the boy is…” Dr. Gaul laughed then sighed when she didn’t get the response she wanted. (She hasn’t seen Y/N’s leg yet. Don’t worry she’s not ignoring her injured god-daughter. I’m not that mean) “You’ve had enough of the Games tonight, I see. Come, sit. I’ll stitch you up.”

“Take care of Y/N first.” Coryo ordered, walking over to Dr. Gaul.

“Y/N?” Dr. Gaul asked. “What happened to her?”

“She has a dagger stuck in her leg.” Coryo explained.

“Oh dear. Come on.” Dr. Gaul ordered, walking to a lab table. “Lay her down.”

Coryo did as he was told and carefully put Y/N down on the table.

“Coryo…” Y/N slurred.

“Shh, it’s okay baby.” He cooed, brushing some hair out of her face. “Dr. Gaul is going to help you.”

“What about you?”

“She’ll help me after you.”

“Alright my dear,” Dr. Gaul gently let out, putting gloves on. “This is going to hurt, but I need you to stay awake. Hold Mr. Snow’s hand.”

“O–okay.”

Dr. Gaul started to remove the dagger and Y/N started to cry in pain, holding tighter onto Coryo. “Stop! Please stop!” She begged.

“I’m sorry my dear. I’m almost done.” Dr. Gaul explained. “Just let me do one more pull and then I’ll stitch you up.”

“Hey, it’s okay, love.” Coryo cut in. “Once it’s out it’s going to feel better, and it will start to heal.”

“And you can get fixed.”

“Yeah. Once you’re taken care of Dr. Gaul will help take care of me.”

“Okay.” Y/N breathed.

Dr. Gaul was able to take out the dagger and stitch her leg up. Y/N was now laid down on the ground head resting on Coryo’s legs as she slept.

He moved his fingers around her hair as Dr. Gaul started to stitch his shoulder. 

“Who could imagine Crassus Snow’s baby boy fighting for his life in the arena one day? What happened in there, that’s humanity undressed. Fueled with the terror of becoming prey, see how quickly we become predator. See how quickly civilization disappears.”

“Those tributes don’t have a choice.” Coryo let out, looking at Y/N.

“I was talking about you.” Gaul explained. “All your fine manners, education, background, stripped away in the blink of an eye, leaving a boy with a club who beats another boy to death to stay alive.”

“He tried to kill my girlfriend.” Coryo breathed, feeling the tears form as he watched Y/N sleep peacefully on his legs.

“You wanna protect people, Mr. Snow? To govern them like your father?”

“I want to keep Y/N safe.”

“Then it’s essential you accept what human beings are and what it takes to control them.”

Y/N woke up as Coryo got onto the elevator up to the penthouse, head leaning on his chest as he cradled her.

“Hey, love.” Coryo smiled.

“Hi,” Y/N mumbled. “Are we almost home?”

“Yeah. We’re in the elevator.”

“How’s your shoulder?”

“It’s fine, my love,” Coryo let out, kissing her head. “I’ve got you. Once we get home we can go to bed.”

“Okay,” Y/N sighed, resting her head more onto his chest, letting a tear fall as she sniffled.

“What is it, my love?” Coryo asked, looking down at her.

“I was so scared.”

“I know.” Coryo cooed. The elevator stopped and Coryo walked out but stopped right outside the door to their penthouse. “But I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

“I thought I was going to die.” Y/N struggled through a strangled sob. “I– I couldn’t breathe. An–and–and then he—he tried to kill me, Coryo.”

“I know, I know.” Coryo cooed, holding her tighter to his chest, resting his chin on her head. “But he didn’t. I’m never going to let anyone ever hurt you again. I promise.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry my love, none of this is your fault.”

“You told me to wait, but I didn’t.”

“Hey, hey, look at me. That doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you're safe.”

“I should’ve just listened to you.”

“Hey, you’re okay. It’s okay. We’re okay. But please never put yourself in danger again. I can’t take it, darling. I need to know you’re okay.”

“I promise.” Y/N sighed. “Can we go to bed now?”

“Of course.”

Coryo opened the door, and softly closed it behind him as Tigris rushed in, feet all over her face.

“They sent us into the arena tonight, Tigris.” Coryo explained, as Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck tighter.

“What?” Tigris gasped, looking between her cousin and his girlfriend.

“To get Sejanus out,” Y/N let out, looking at Tigris.

“What happened? Are you two okay?”

“I killed someone,” Coryo breathed, tears forming in his eyes. “A boy.”

“That must have been awful,” Tigris let out, twisting Y/N’a hair gently in her fingers.

“It was,” Coryo let out, looking down at Y/N’s weak and scared figure as she cried in his arms. “But he was trying to kill Y/N. Then it felt… powerful.”

“Coryo,” Tigris breathed, trying to hide her fear. “I know you want to be like your father but what I remember the most about him was that in his eyes, it was just hate. You don’t have to pay the same price just to survive. People can be good. You can be good. You are good. Just believe in that.”

“Coryo,” Y/N let out, cuddling into his chest as he held one arm around her waist, and the other carefully holding her leg up on his for comfort on the injured leg. 

“What is it, my love?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Killing him for me. He was going to kill me if you hadn’t.”

“I know, baby. But I’ve got you, yeah? I’ve always got you. I’ll kill everyone in order to keep you safe.”

“Thank you.” Y/N breathed. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more darling. Now get some rest. You need it.”

tag list here

Tag list: @uglyfish3rman, @Edb954, @joyfulyouthlover,

[clemblog]

I had a dream about the Sorry Boys last night.

• It was a video, Where Tommy, Phil and Charlie where pirates stuck on this pier

• Even though there was a boat docked at the pier

• Because

• “You don’t just get on another pirates boat without permission-“ - Charlie

• W*lbur was there

• And he was this starfish/octopus hybrid in the water

• I’m talking he had his face and his fringe

• But the rest was starfish

• And then octopus leggies

• And he’d just say oddly weird shit

• And then make biting noises and disappear into the water, And would reappear moments later to do it again

• Then it turns out the boat was Charlie’s

• He just forgot.

• So they hit W*lbur with the boat and sail out to sea

• The End

[codename-mom]

Cookie jar

Summary: The team is on the field without Hotch who's on a leave for some days, but they have to call him anyway. Suddenly, something happens and everybody worry about Jack.

Characters: BAU team and Jack Hotchner

Contents: TW a child is hurt (but everything is fine) and a tiny bit of angst because can't be anything else but anxious.

This is a text written for the KidFic CM challenge organized by @imagining-in-the-margins.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

The team had gathered in the room the police had assigned them – a cubbyhole, so to speak, cluttered with cardboard boxes and mops – and Derek dialed Hotch's cell phone number. The latter was on leave for a few days. His men were reluctant to call him when he did, so that he could enjoy his time away from Quantico to the full, but they had no choice. The first clues found in the field echoed those of an old case the director and Jason Gideon had worked on in the past. As the latter had vanished into thin air, they could only contact the former.

He picked up after several rings.

“Hotch?”

“One moment, he stopped him on the spot. Jack, I said no. I’m coming back.”

Morgan had put his phone on speaker so that everyone could follow the conversation, and so they all heard the TV gradually fading away, until it was almost muffled. They imagined he must have gone to his bedroom, or some other room where he could close the door behind him.

“What's the matter?” he asked, in an annoyed tone.

“Sorry to bother you,” apologized Emily, trying to appease him.

It wasn't certain that this impromptu call was the cause of his irritation, but if in doubt, it was best to try and smooth things over.

“Tell me,” he ordered, his intonation unchanged.

“We've potentially got a resurrected serial killer,” the ex-policeman attested.

“If I tell you: branding on the shoulder, chains on the ankles and whipping. Does it speak to you?” went on Dave, next to him.

A silence passed, during which he had to return to his memories.

“… Yes, but the culprit was sentenced to life.”

“Actually, he passed away last month, Derek clarified. But the last victim was killed on Monday.”

“His accomplice was released for good behavior last year, but his file disappeared, Prentiss explained from across the table. Can you remember his name?”

“I imagine you've already searched the digital archives for this information.”

“Affirmative, confirmed Penelope, who had come with them for the occasion. And there’s nothing. The guy just disappeared.”

The agency manager fell silent again. For a long time. The profilers stared at each other, tense.

“Hotch?” impatiently asked Morgan.

“Just a moment, I'm trying to remember, thundered his superior. His name was… De…”

A loud crash and a breaking glass could be heard in the background, and everyone froze as the giant shouted:

“Jack!”

A door opened and footsteps moved away from the handset. Clearly, the giant had left his phone behind. Tension gripped the whole group, their senses on the alert and their hearts pounding against their ribs. 

“Did we kill tiny-Hotch?” moaned Garcia, on the verge of tears.

In the distance, the voice of the father calling his son made them fear the worst. Then the little boy started screaming at the top of his lungs, and everyone shuddered.

“Apparently not,” ironized Emily, who wasn't putting up much more of a fight than her colleagues.

“What do I do? wondered Derek, unsettled by the situation. I hang up?”

“Maybe he'll come back to us,” Spencer stated uncomfortably.

“I don't think so,” objected JJ, listening intently to the distant din.

“Why?”

“This is clearly the cry of a child in real pain.”

As the only mother in the unit, they trusted her judgment without a hesitation.

“Well, maybe I'll hang up now,” voiced Morgan, ready to press the button.

“Wait,” advised Rossi.

Jack was still crying loudly, perhaps a little quieter than a few moments earlier, but more importantly, they noticed that the sound was now moving. And he grew weaker and weaker until he disappeared completely.

“It sounded a lot like a door slamming,” Prentiss claimed, her eyebrows furrowing.

“You can hang up now,” Dave confirmed.

Derek obeyed sighing. He hadn't expected such a turn of events and now felt guilty about what had just happened. He knew the kid a little and he was always delighted to see him, his eyes shining with admiration every time. Like his counterparts, he didn't know what had occurred, but feared that something grave had happened, which would leave neither the child nor its progenitor unscathed.

“It could have been worse,” pointed out JJ.

Everyone looked at her, bewildered.

“Are you kidding? Retorted the brunette. I don't know what’s going on, but it's serious enough that Hotch left with him.”

“Yes, but Jack was crying.”

“So what?” inquired Morgan, confused.

“That means he was conscious,” Reid attested confidently.

The man who had taken over the leadership of the team when Aaron was absent took a long breath and ordered his peers to get back to work in spite of everything. They worked with this question in the back of their minds: how was Jack doing? Based on the thin clue left by their superior, they searched, groped, and modified their profile until they found a certain Denis Porter, who turned out to be their unsub. All this in record time. Since they were in the neighboring state, they returned to the Quantico offices while it was still daylight. Immediately, the worry that had been nagging them all came back to mind, and synchronously, they looked at their phones. None of them had received a message, which didn't reassure them at all.

“Penelope, do you have any way of knowing which hospital he was admitted to?” inquired JJ.

“Why do you ask? teased her colleague, who immediately took to her keyboard. I'll do it right away, my little ones.”

She typed the toddler's first and last names into her search engine and the result appeared almost instantly on her screen. All gathered around the analyst in her colorful lair, they read the information at the same time.

“Let's go,” commanded Emily, leading the way.

A few minutes later, they jumped in two Bureau SUVs and headed for downtown Washington DC, following the itinerary on their GPS. They parked quickly and hurried to the reception desk. The nurse behind the counter was somewhat surprised to see the herd arrive, armed and determined, but was reassured to see Derek's warm smile. She directed them to the pediatric emergency room on the other side of the building. Together, they made their way through the corridors until they reached another admissions department, where they were given the room number.

They shared a similar fear at this moment. They dreaded discovering the state of the youngster and prayed the titan wasn’t ready to drop again. He'd already suffered enough; he didn't deserve to be in even worse shape. Morgan didn't have the courage to knock on the door, which was ajar but not wide enough for them to see what was going on inside. Rossi did it for him.

“Knock, knock!”

“Come in,” Hotch reacted, in his usual tone.

They took a few steps and saw the boy lying on a bed, in a hospital gown, his head turbaned, but grinning from ear to ear. His father was sitting in a chair on the other side of the bed, and a brief chuckle lifted the corner of his lips. Relieved, all the agents took Jack in their arms one after the other – except Spencer, who simply banged his fist against his. The girls added a kiss on his cheek and told him he was very brave. The effusive reunion over, Aaron declared:

“Denis Porter.”

“Yes, we found him,” Dave replied, squeezing his shoulder.

“Good.”

He didn't have the expression of someone satisfied with their work. He still looked distressed.

“What happened?” said JJ, asking aloud the question they'd all been asking themselves.

“Mister wanted a cookie. I pointed out to him that it wasn't the right time, but he waited until my back was turned to take one.”

“And?” bounced Prentiss.

“Well, he had his cookie. A lot of cookies. And the jar itself.”

The adults' gaze swiveled towards the injured boy, who gave them his best little rascal smile. He had no regrets about what he'd done. Some of the visitors felt sorry for him, once again showering him with hugs, while the others shook their heads in disappointment.

“Concussion?” continued JJ.

“It’s what we’re waiting to see. He has been under observation since 3:30 p.m.”

They reflexively glanced at their watches. He had been here for almost three hours.

“He looks okay, Derek remarked as he sat down on the bed next to him. Right, buddy?”

“Yeah.”

“Tomorrow you'll be a hero at school,” affirmed Rossi, leaning against the bedposts.

“Yeah!” exulted Jack, proudly.

“Because he took a cookie jar to the forehead?” judged Emily, eyebrows furrowed.

“Scars,” Reid whispered, in a tone of obviousness.

“… Guys...” sighed the three women in unison, as they saw the same victorious expression on the faces of their male comrades.

Someone knocked on the door and a nurse entered, a little disconcerted to see so many people in the room.

“Mr. Hotchner?”

“Yes,” responded the interested party, rising to his feet.

“Can you come with me for a moment?”

Instinctively, he turned to his offspring and met his irises.

“We'll look after him, Hotch, Penelope reassured him, having grasped the source of his apprehension. Go.”

His teammates nodded in support, and Aaron very gently kissed his son on his bandaged forehead before leaving the room. Without them needing to ask, the hero of the day began to tell them all about his adventures, dwelling on unimportant details, forgetting the end of some of his sentences to go back and move on to something else, and surely exaggerating certain facts. All this with boundless energy and plenty of grand gestures that definitely appeased them about his state of health.

However, Morgan saw the nurse pass by again in the other direction out of the corner of his eye and was puzzled not to see Hotch reappear immediately afterwards. He waited a little longer, in vain. He apologized to his fellows and returned to the corridor. He discovered the giant a few yards away, leaning against the wall, a document in his hand. His pupils turned towards the ground, he seemed lost. Derek felt a vise tighten around his throat. What if…?

“Trouble?”

“What? gasped the manager, rudely jolted from his thoughts. No. This is the exit voucher. Everything is fine.”

The former policeman relaxed.

“So why the long face?”

The agency head lowered his nose, dodging his gaze, before sighing. Then he lifted his chin and turned his dark irises on him.

“… How did your mother do it?”

“To what?” he reacted, taken aback by this private question.

“To raise three children on her own into perfect adults.”

He couldn't help but burst out laughing, even though his interlocutor had spoken very seriously. At least he understood why he looked so downcast when all the indicators were green. As usual, the ex-prosecutor scourged himself for not having been able to protect a loved one, when there was no reason to do so.

“I'm not sure she'd say that,” he joked to lighten the mood.

“You arrest serial killers and, from what I've seen, your sisters don't seem to be into organized crime.”

Seen like that, indeed, his mother had done a very good job of keeping them on the straight and narrow. But that didn't mean the road wasn't full of bumps.

“Hotch, what happened was an accident, as it happens in every family in the world. I did the same stunt when I was a kid and, obviously, I'm fine.”

It was the truth. He himself had taken a tin of candy on the corner of his skull when he was a little older than the director's son. He had climbed onto a chair and then onto the kitchen counter before stretching out to grab the object of his desire, which his mother had placed as high up in the room as possible. In the end, he found himself in the emergency room with a huge lump on his forehead. The images were no longer so clear in his mind, but he still remembered his mother's concern as she brought him unconscious to the hospital. The same expression of anguish and guilt appeared on his neighbor's face.

“Hotch, Jack's moving, he's talking, and he's got clearance to get out of here. So, everything is okay.”

“Then why do I feel like the worst father in the world?” he retorted, not daring to look up.

He almost replied that it was because he had very low self-esteem, but restrained himself to give him a more consensual, but no less correct answer.

“You were scared for him, it’s normal.”

“But it's not just that, he despaired, peeling himself away from the wall to walk down the corridor. I constantly asking for help. To Jessica, to Haley’s mother, to my own mother… even JJ. I’m incapable of taking care of him all by myself.”

Morgan was touched despite himself by the disarray of his opposite, who was still struggling to adapt to his new life as a single father. Not being in his situation, he couldn't really give him advice, but could always try to make him see reason.

“Hotch, I think all parents ask other people for help. My mother would ask other women in the neighborhood for advice, and some of them would even babysit us. Your mother must have done the same thing, JJ does and I'm pretty sure Haley did too. You're no more incapable than anyone else.”

He and his sisters had spent entire afternoons and weekends at their aunts' so that their mother could work or simply have time for herself, and none of her children had had the audacity to reproach her in any way.

“… I wish I could be as sure as you are.”

Derek rolled his eyes and held back from kicking his butt. His propensity for only seeing the glass as half empty annoyed him to no end, but he tempered his urge to strangle him by reminding himself that the context wasn't helping either. So, he chose a gentler method.

“Does Jack smile?”

“What?” exclaimed Aaron, raising his nose.

“Do you see Jack smiling?”

“Yes.”

“Laugh?”

“Yes.”

“Does he tell you he loves you? Without you having to tell him beforehand or giving him something he wanted?”

“Yes.”

“So, everything is good.”

The giant analyzed the exchange they had just had, and his subordinate saw his features gradually relax. He fixed his gaze in his again and, with a pale smile, said:

“… Thank you.”

Morgan's lips stretched warmly, and he laid a hand on his shoulder in return. The two men then went to the little boy's room, where his father told him the good news.

___

This idea jumped in my head after my first watch of season 5 and this dialogue between Derek and Hotch, where Derek has decided to write his own report to leave more free time for him to take care of Jack (because he knows what it is to be a single parent).

That scene was so cute, that I needed to imagine another peaceful moments between the two of them. Because we all know that they appreciate each other more than they will confess it. Because boys are boys...

[midoristeashop]

More screencap studies + sketches since y’all DEVOURED my httyd one ily

fun fact I did the rotg one first and didn’t really like it but we’re ballin here

Oh also have more randomly assorted tomfoolery I did in class :,)

Also Jamie’s stupid face