#SORRY ABOUT THAT ONE PART WHERE NOTHING HAPPENS.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alba's Version) IV

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: The aftermath

*TW: parental neglect, aftermath of suicide*

It takes Alexia nearly a week until she realises you're missing.

You're self-sufficient and independent. You've never needed much and it's not weird for Alexia to not see you for days on end.

You come home from whatever you spend your days doing and go straight to your room.

You make your own meals, she's pretty sure because she never has to make extra. Just enough for a family of three. Two when Olga is away from work.

It's a fleeting thing really, the only way that she realises you've disappeared.

She knocks on your door, intent on finally having that conversation about what you're planning on doing with your future.

There's no answer.

"Now's not the time to sulk, y/n," She calls through the door," If you don't come out then I'm coming in!"

Still silence.

"One! Two!"

Alexia doesn't wait for three, shoving open the door.

She expects to see you on your bed, sulking or whatever it is you do when she's not around.

You're not there though.

Your bed is made. Your clothes are packed away.

There's nothing out of place. Nothing to prove that this room was even really yours apart from a few neat stacks of paper on your desk.

Alexa glances over them, frowning as if they'd give her the answer to where you've gone.

She's been home since last night, the first one up and awake in the house. There's no way you could have snuck past her.

"Jaume!" She yells out," Where's your sister?"

"I don't know! Out with friends or something?"

That's odd.

Alexia can't remember the last time you mentioned a friend to her. To be honest, Alexia can't remember the last time the two of you actually had a conversation.

She shuffles through the papers on your desk.

Yes, she thinks, you must be with friends because there's three tickets to a ballet performance on Saturday.

You must be wanting to take them with you.

It's only when Alexia sits up that night, waiting for you to come home, that she gets the sinking feeling you're not coming back.

She waits for hours until the early hours of the next morning and the sun begins to rise before panic lances through her chest.

You've not come home.

She checks her phone, wondering if she missed a text saying you would stay at a friend's house but there's nothing.

She checks your room, just to see if you've climbed in through the windows but they're locked.

You are nowhere.

She pulls Jaume out of school for the day. She calls Olga to come home from Madrid.

She scours all of the places she thinks you hang out but you're nowhere to be seen.

It's almost like you've never existed in the first place.

The call comes in the evening.

It's Alba.

"I can't talk right now," Alexia says after two missed calls," I'm-"

"I'm sorry," Alba says instead.

"What?"

"I'm sorry." Alba chokes her words out like they're so physically painful she can barely say them. Like she's so numb that even talking is difficult. "I tried but..."

"Alba? What's happened? Listen, I really can't talk right now. I'm-"

"I really did try. They did too but it was already too late."

"Alba, what is going on?"

"We should go to the hospital," Alba says," I'll send you which one."

In the deepest pit of her chest, Alexia already knows what has happened. In some deep, dark part of her, she's known since Alba called. In the worst, most hidden piece of herself, Alexia has known since the beginning.

It's an awful thing for an aunt to see.

It's a terrible thing for a brother to see.

It's even worse for a mother to see.

A picture goes up at the ballet company.

(Alexia didn't even know you joined one).

It's of you smiling, the headhsot that they used on the website, displayed proudly in the main foyer.

'Rest In Peace' sits under it and a little plaque with your name and how long you lived. It states your interests with no hint about trains at all. It talks about your reserved disposition but mentions how you endeared yourself to everyone.

Flowers sit under it, bouquets upon bouquets from the dancers and the staff and audience members who have seen you perform.

(Alexia has never been to a performance once).

Support pours in from people Alexia hasn't spoken to in years. Old coaches. Old teammates. Old friends.

Everyone seems to have a fond memory of you but all Alexia can think about is the last words she said to you.

She can't remember them.

She can't remember what she said or how she felt or what she was doing.

There is a gap in her memory from that moment.

Everyone talks about you so fondly, with such clarity that Alexia can't replicate.

You have gone on a wisp of breeze and Alexia is left trying to catch the impossible.

Her mind circles around herself, trying to work out where this all went wrong.

She loved you. She loved you so much.

Her beautiful baby girl who was a little nervous and a little quiet but beautiful all the same.

The little girl who loved trains and ballet and doing all the super feminine stuff that Alexia had to learn when she was a bit older.

The people around her tell stories of you, like Ingrid talking about how you used to love having her braid your hair back but Alexia sits there numb.

She's been numb since she saw your body in the hospital morgue.

She's been numb since the funeral where you lay in your coffin, perfectly peaceful like you were taking a long sleep.

She's been numb since they all returned to Eli's house for food and drink to celebrate your life.

Alba is not talking to her, has not talked to her outside what is needed since she called.

Alexia hasn't even noticed, too preoccupied with the realisation that she's a mother that just had to bury her daughter.

It was not a disease that took you. It was not a heart attack. It was not a random attack on the street.

It was you.

You made this decision, decided that this world was not worth living in anymore. That you could no longer cope with everything happening around you.

Things that Alexia has no knowledge on and, now, will never have any knowledge on.

You thought that this path was better than returning home.

You thought that everything would be better, more peaceful if you took your life away.

People have been cautious around Alexia, seeing just how close she is to tears.

She didn't cry during the funeral when you were lowered down into the ground with nothing but a neat blouse and a skirt.

Nothing to take with you now that you're gone.

Olga had to pack your things away in your room because Alexia could not force herself to even step through the doorway.

Your things are gone.

You are gone.

And Alexia will never know why.

[twst-drabbles]

Jamil 17

Summary: You and Jamil lay in his bed in his dorm room. While you’re very tired, you’re visibly not bothered by the social implications of being in the bed of another. Jamil, on the other hand, is a little too aware.

(I saw the birthday card and went “eh, why not?” and wrote this.)

Was this something common in your world? Where, out of nowhere, people will just casually ask their friends if they can sleep with them in their bed? Because that’s what you did to Jamil. You approached him, luckily out of earshot from anyone important, and asked that very question with zero shame.

“Hey Jamil? Mind if I sleep with you in your bed tonight?”

Jamil will admit, it took him a good five seconds for him to register the words. And, he will also admit that he banged his knee against the table he was cleaning. Hit it so hard actually that he curled up into a ball, and practically retreated into his hoodie because why would you ask that?! In broad daylight?!

But you know what’s the worst part about all this? Jamil actually got excited. Giddy even! When the hot flush flooding through his body finally settled, all that was left was this glowing feeling.

At the time, he thought that his charms have finally got to you. That all his efforts to be in your good graces have begun to bear fruit.

And so he said, “You know what? Yes, let’s do that. Setting aside the way you asked that, I think I can find it in my heart to forgive that.”

Past him’s an idiot. For all those times he thought himself above the hormonal college students, turns out Jamil was no better. He supposed it was only a matter of time before he was humbled.

And so here Jamil lays on his side of the bed, dressed in his best pajamas, surrounded by the best sheets and pillows he uses for special occasions, and you laying on your stomach, reading the next chapter for one of your classes.

You came in with a tired wave, bag at hand, and flopped over in his bed. And you’ve been in that pose since.

“So, this was what you meant.” Jamil said. Now that his judgment is clear again after an hour of doing nothing, he really should’ve known you didn’t mean anything special by what you asked. Shame on him for expecting an extra meaning to them.

“Hmm? Oh, was the way I asked weird?” You glanced towards him. Jamil recognizes that exhausted look weighing in your eyes. Perhaps, through the rose-tinted glasses, Jamil didn’t notice. Once again, shame on him. Jamil should suffocate himself with these pillows. “Sorry about that. I just really want one good night of sleep. Just one.”

The urge to hit himself with the pillows lessened. Jamil moved onto his stomach, and copied your position, propping his chin on the pile. “Is there something wrong with your bed?”

You put your phone down. “Weather’s getting hotter and I still don’t have a working air con. It gets so humid at night that I sweat through the night. Can barely get more than three hours of sleep at a time.”

…of course the headmage would neglect to give you something as simple as a stable heating and cooling. Leave it to him to ignore your problems while he goes off doing whatever else. Probably binge watching an old drama that’s not even any good.

“I can’t imagine it’s been easy to deal with. Though, I have to ask, why my bed? You have others that you’re closer to, don’t you?”

Others such as Ace and Deuce, but Jamil didn’t want to say their names. It’s childish but he doesn’t want to see if your eyes light up at their mere mention.

You stretched your spine and settled down. “Yeah I know other people, but–how do I say this–they’ll make it weird.”

Weird? Like how Jamil preparing everything from the lights, to the blankets and even stuffing his drawer with extra wipes just in case wasn’t weird? What?

“Wait, what you mean by weird?” Now Jamil’s worried. Did something happen for you to say that? Did someone do something to you?

You waved off his concern. “Well, see, originally I was just going to ask Rook since he doesn’t mind sharing spaces with anyone, but he’s also very into cuddling and I’m not in the mood for that.”

“That’s true, he’s very open about that kind of thin–wait you cuddled him before?” Since when?

“Cuddled him plenty of times. Rook gives the best hugs without trying to flirt with me. Anyways, Rook wasn’t an option, and neither are Ace and Deuce since there’s no room to spare. There was Leona but after that whole ordeal with Azul, I really don’t want to go back there. And as for asking Azul himself… I feel like he’d charge me for that. So, here I am.”

Oh. Well, when putting it like that, it does make sense doesn’t it? So long as you don’t figure out exactly what went through his head when you asked. He’ll just keep quiet about that.

Jamil sighed into his pillow. “While I want to ask why you didn’t ask Kalim, but I know him too well. A peaceful rest isn’t something he can give, not with the way he sleeps.”

You patted his shoulder and it took everything in Jamil to not jump out of his skin. “You get it. So, yeah, thanks Jamil, for not saying no. Honestly, I was ready to find an empty classroom and just sleeping in there.”

Jamil narrowed his eyes. “Don’t do that. You’ll get in trouble. Just sleep here for the time being. When I have time, I’ll see about pestering Crowley into getting everything in order.”

“You do too much for me, Jamil. Really.”

While things didn’t play out the way he wanted to, the warmth flooding in his chest has not once went away. If anything, from the sight of your smile, it threatened to overflow.

This is nice, that you trust him like this.

“…alright, this is still bothering me. How did you and Rook even start cuddling in the first place?”

And can he add himself onto that list of people you cuddle with?

“Hahaha, yeah that is strange, right? Alright, may as well tell you.”

[venusloverblue]

Brewing Hearts

harry potter x reader

warning: fluff, fluff and fluff

word count: 1k

this is part 1, i will soon publish the next part, stay tuned!

You never thought that one day you would fall in love the way you did when you met Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the one everyone at school calls "the chosen one." It seemed cliché to you that love had knocked on your door along with him. Your friends thought it was romantic, but you, without a doubt, found it absurd. Why did it have to be him? There were so many boys to fall in love with, but no, your stupid heart wanted the one who didn’t even know you existed. Your life had become a bad tragicomedy; every time you crossed paths with him, you felt your body go numb and your voice disappear. Your best friend called it a “romantic attack.”

Today, you had Potions class with the not-so-beloved Professor Snape, and it was important that you didn’t miss it since you had to turn in an assignment you had been working on for weeks. You hated Potions classes; you never had the best results, and that was the root of your disdain for them.

You were running through the corridors with a backpack on your shoulder, heading to the classroom where the class would be held. You arrived just in time, right as the last Hufflepuff student entered. When you walked in, you scanned the room for your desk partner, but you didn’t find them. You thought you’d have to do the class alone, something you didn’t enjoy. When you got to your spot, the class was about to start, and at that moment, Professor Snape appeared and gave the task for the day: an assignment that had to be done in pairs.

― Professor Snape, my partner didn’t come. Who do I do the activity with? ― you asked after raising your hand and being given the floor.

― Well, you can do it with Mr. Potter, who is also alone ― he said with a disdainful expression when mentioning the boy you liked.

Your body froze. Of all the classes where something like this could have happened, it had to be in Potions. He was going to find out that you were good for nothing, that you weren’t at his level to even think of going out with him. You wished the ground would swallow you up and never spit you back out.

― Is everything alright, Miss Y/N? ― The professor’s question pulled you out of your thoughts. You nodded and turned to see Potter walking toward the seat next to you. You felt your heart stop; it was like a dream and a nightmare at the same time.

With the problem solved, Snape went to help some students who had requested his assistance. Meanwhile, in your section, Potter was getting ready to make the potion. Your mind was racing, trying to think of a way to start a conversation.

― So… they abandoned us, huh? ― you said with a nervous laugh.

― Yeah, it seems that way. Shall we start?

You nodded enthusiastically. In your mind, you promised yourself you would do your best so the potion wouldn’t end up a disaster. In just a few seconds, you both decided that Harry would handle the cauldron while you passed him the ingredients and read the instructions. This spared you from any embarrassing moments in front of him.

By the end of the class, your potion was bottled and ready to present. For some reason, you had a good feeling that you had done it right. When Snape approached your area and checked that everything was in order, he begrudgingly gave you an excellent grade. You couldn’t believe it; that had never happened to you in his class. You were so excited that you even hugged Harry. It took only a second for you to realize what you had done, and unfortunately for you, there was no turning back. You pulled away so fast it seemed like Harry had caught fire.

― I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. I’m so excited that I didn’t notice. Forgive me, Harry ―. Concern and embarrassment were all over your face. You were about to pray for a hippogriff to come flying and take you away.

― Don’t worry, Y/N, it’s fine. We did a great job, and I liked working with you. We should do it again sometime ― he said with a smile crossing his face. Just when you thought you couldn’t be more in love with him, you received one of those smiles that made you want to cry with happiness.

Class ended, and everyone rushed to escape from the dungeons. In the hallway, you heard someone shouting your name. When you turned around, you saw Harry running towards you with something in his hand.

When he reached you, he stopped, a little out of breath.

― Y/N, you forgot your notebook.

You checked your backpack and realized he was right. You probably left it behind because you were thinking about him, something that didn’t surprise you at all.

― Yeah, you’re right. Thank you so much for bringing it to me ―. As you were about to say goodbye, Potter interrupted you.

― Would you like to go out with me sometime? We could go to Hogsmeade and have a drink at The Three Broomsticks, if you’d like.

It was either a joke or the best thing that had happened to you in a long time. You lost your voice and the ability to move; you were having a “romantic attack.” Before answering, you thought about the thousands of possibilities of what could happen if you said yes, and no matter how crazy it seemed, in all of them, the ending was a very happy one for you.

― I understand if you don’t wa…

― YES… yes, I’d like to go out with you sometime! ― You didn’t let him finish his sentence, shouting your response.

Harry couldn’t contain his smile of excitement.

― Great! How about next weekend? We could meet in the hall three hours before dinner.

― Sounds good, see you there then ― you said as you waved goodbye.

The moment you were out of his sight, you ran off to find your best friend to tell her about the long-awaited and desired moment.

[russilton]

Sorry but it's obvious Mercedes wants George to be above Lewis in wdc and is doing everything to achieve this. I don't know why you justify this team so much.

I honestly loved your account and your opinion but I just can't agree with you here. Ferrari does stupid things but at least they don't play with showy priorities.

Why would they want that though- genuinely, why would they want that, it makes them no extra money, it gets people yelling at them, and they have had multiple DNF’s for George this year that sure seem like a bad look if they’re trying to master mind this shit. In this race that masterminding would lose them points and money, Merc never, ever, want a situation where they lose money. They are a business.

Merc suffer from successful idiot syndrome- when they do a risky thing and it works out they look like geniuses, but sometimes you do a risky thing, it doesn’t work out, and to everyone you look like morons. Look at Oscar passing George now when he started 5th. George also would have come out behind Lewis had he not ran long with yuki— but as shown ultimately Merc’s strategy was safer than McLaren’s, but makes them look bland when mclarens risk works out. If there has been an early safety car like there usually is, or if he had made overtakes on the start, Lewis would have looked clever as hell for going soft

Tire picks are not uniquely up to the driver, but they are also not decided arbitrarily by the team either- they are made in combination with strategy and lewis’ engineers Mike and Bono, there’s a reason Lewis Bono and Mike will have seperate meetings on Saturday to Lewis Marcus and Chris. They are working in combination but still racing each other, look at SPA— that was not them deciding not to do for Lewis what they did for George, that was lewis’ team playing it safe, and not accounting for George’s team having nothing to lose and playing risky.

All of this is really boring, it doesn’t sound as compelling or spicy as some great conspiricy theory about fucking one driver or the other over as we have had FOR THREE LONG YEARS, but it’s just what’s happening when you don’t have the quickest car and you’re trying to claw ahead of the quicker guy ahead. I would love some great silver bullet that if we pulled would fix everything but it doesn’t work like that. Sometimes you gamble on something with your best assumption as to what might happen, and you don’t get it, racing is boring like that, because you can’t will your way to being be a bit faster like in a foot race, you are limited by the car you have.

I know this is annoying and it feels extra shitty because you can’t do anything about it, and if there’s a greater plot then you can justify that feeling easier, “I can’t get by because they are out to get me” is easier than “I can’t get by bc we just don’t have a good enough car”

But that’s the reality of this sport. And it’s so fucking annoying I get it, you think I don’t frequently partake in “McLaren’s are cheating and redbull is evil and my special guys deserve more” ? Of course I do, that’s also part of the sport. If I had had my way Lewis would have won today I wanted it so badly, but as evidenced by McLaren and ferrari getting by us we just didn’t get it right today. It sucks whole ass but that’s what it is.

Grit your teeth, kick a wall, curse the heavens, move on.

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 12: ~

Operation Spy Part 1:

Here we go. The moment we've all been waiting for. The rescue. How will it go? Knowing this lot...

Step 1. Grab the yellow paint and mark the infected containers.

Step 2. Load the infected inside.

Step 3. Get back to the mainland.

Step 4. ...

Well, we'll see what happens afterwards.

Brodie and Roper waited at the Under Rig. They watched the horizon. An outline of a cargo ship came into view. It was a strange feeling. They were all so relieved because this was it - they were going home - but how can you just walk away from this? Easy. You don't.

The pair had to count their lucky stars. They weren't dead like Gregor or turned into something no one thought possible like Rennick. They can still have a normal life. Until then, they just had to go through an investigation, followed by a debriefing and possible firing from Cadal to cover their own arse. It's not like anyone here would care. If Cadal was thinking about sending anyone here to another rig, then they had another thing coming.

'So, what's your plan, Roper?'

'I think I'm going to take myself and the misses on that long needed holiday to Spain. What about you?'

'Take myself and Raffs back to Skye and...'Brodie shrugged. 'I dunno. Rethink my life choices.'

Roper wasn't daft. He was basically the crew's therapist when he wasn't manning Marine Control, and he knew something was bothering Brodie. Which was an oddity in and of itself because nothing bothered him. He was a father figure to most of the younger lads here, especially Raffs. Brodie's known him since he was a child. Roper's eyes lingered towards Brodie's crossed arms. His hands gripped to the sleeves as if he were hanging onto them for dear life. His breathing was laboured, which he'd just pass off as the cold.

'Don't blame yourself,' Roper said. Brodie's shoulders and jaw tensed. 'Raffs is fine. You're fine.'

'I know.' Brodie spoke through gritted teeth. 'But, I shouldn't have let him go down there.'

'He wasn't infected.'

'The lad wasn't ready.'

'Yes, he was, Brods. If none of this happened, he'd be going head first back into that diving bell. Give him time. He'll tell you what he wants.'

Of course, Roper was right, and with a supportive pat on the shoulder, he made his way to the Deck for an update. Brodie continued to watch the cargo ship come into view and took a deep breath to help himself relax.

'He's right.' Raffs' voice broke Brodie out of his spell. The pair had failed to notice that the young man was just around the corner. He approached and leaned against the railing. He seemed happier today. More relaxed. His wide eyes were calm, and his hands weren't shaking. 'I mean - Yeah, I was terrified, but I knew I was safe. Plus, I did hit my head in there. Of course, I'm going to be shak-'

Brodie didn't let Raffs finish his sentence. He just grabbed the young man he saw as his son and held him close. Raffs knew what this was. He's felt this crushing hug before, where Brodie kept him close and refused to let go. The last time he felt it was when Raffs nearly fell down the stairs carrying one side of a dresser. You couldn't fight it either. Any second now...

'I'm sorry.'

There it is.

Raffs returned the hug, though he could never have the strength of Brodie. 'I'm fine,' he said with reassurance whilst he pulled away. 'Just needed to wrap my head around all this.' Brodie's heard that excuse before, but he'll take his word for it. As long as he was okay.

The same couldn't be said for Muir.

Anxiety suddenly gripped him, and the heartbeats he could hear weren't helping. If this was his power from The Shape, then it was frankly shit. The excitement from everyone made him uneasy. There was no warning. The anxiety just came knocking on the door before kicking it down. Muir's mind began to race with ridiculous possibilities. What if the ship sank? What if the police are waiting for Caz to just shoot him? What if The Shape isn't really dead and it'll follow them to the mainland? What if he's taken away and he never gets to see Innes again?

Muir held his breath with a thousand yard stare. No one seemed to notice. Not even Innes, who came into the container with a backpack he left for his partner. All of Muir's eyes turned to him, yet his head stayed seated in the same position.

'Alright. That's all of your stuff.' Like everyone else, Innes was happy. 'Yes. I brought the bloody harmonica before you ask. But don't go playing it until we get ye home.' Muir didn't answer and continued to stare. His mind wouldn't shut up. Everyone's heartbeats drowned out whatever Innes said. It was an echo for him. Everything began to blur. Not because The Shape had suddenly returned, but because he was crying. Muir could finally allow himself to breathe again. Innes looked, and his smile dropped. 'Muir?' He felt a tendril wrap around his hand, and he instinctively began to stroke it with his thumb.

'Please don't go.'

Innes frowned. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

'Stay in here with me.' A pause. 'What if this doesn't work? And what if I'm taken away, never to be seen again?'

'I think that's impossible.'

'Innes, please!' Muir snapped as he began to tighten his grip on Innes and shook his head, because he couldn't run a hand through his hair anymore. 'I don't want to be on my own.'

Innes moved towards him and wiped Muir's tears away. Muir hugged and pulled him closer for him to rest his head on his shoulders. Of course, Innes allowed it and, in return, gave Muir a kiss. 'Alright... Alright, Muir. I'll stay, but we have to be quiet.' Muir nodded before buring his head into Innes.

The pair were so worked up in themselves that they didn't notice Gibbo, Trots, and Roy watching. None of them were surprised. They all suspected something for a while. I'm glad to see they had their confirmation.

Roy often wondered what that felt like. To love someone so near and dear in that way. He's loved friends and family, but nothing you could conclude to be romantic. His only real love outside of that would be football and cooking. He caught on that the three were just staring at this point and gave Gibbo and Trots a small tap.

'Right, you two, get in.'

With their belongings tucked away in the corner, Gibbo, being bigger of the pair, went first and soon settled by using his bag as a pillow. Trots soon followed and didn't exactly know what to do with himself. He had this coat pocket, but it was just awkward for him. Like Rennick, he felt like a rescue horse being led to a stable.

'Hope you don't mind me sharing with you, Gibs.'

'As long as there's no Cadal this or Cadal that.'

'Oh no, this has made it worse,' Roy laughed. 'But hey, if he gets bored, Animal Farm is in his bag.' It wasn't. Trots knew it wasn't. The comment got Gibbo laughing. Trots just smirked before using the tendrils to make himself taller before giving Roy a quick shove on the shoulder with a chuff.

'Off with ya, ya prick.'

'Seya on the other side, lads.'

Of course, the men weren't in complete darkness. Along with the sun coming through at the bottom of the door, Caz and Finlay made some adjustments to the containers, other than paint. A few holes for the natural light. No one thought about possible rain, though.

'Are you really going to use your infection to get a Union?' Gibbo asked out of curiosity.

'Of course,' Trots said. 'How can they say 'no' to this?'

'Ah Christ.' Maybe Gibbo should have taken Rennick as his container-mate. He made his stance known by grabbing Trot's bag and holding it over his head like a pillow trying to block out the noise.

'Right, you two Roasters,' Finlay said in her usual tone that commanded your attention. She was never scared to use it towards Rennick and Addair before, and them being infected didn't change that. The pair awkwardly stood in their own shared container. 'I better not hear a peep out of either of you.'

'I want off this rig, Finlay,' Rennick said in that tone when you're about to get an earful. 'Why the fuck, do you think I'm gonna be loud?!'

'Because you always have to get the last word.'

'Then give me my own container.'

'No. We take you in pairs. Muir's too big for anyone else.' Except Trots, but wanted to be with Gibbo. 'Now keep ye' voices down, or I'll come in there and ring both of ya necks.'

Was Rennick scared of Finaly? No. Was Addair scared of Finlay? Also, no. But, the pair had to admire her attitude, even if they didn't like being spoken to like this. She always carried herself with authority and had bigger balls than most of the men here. Even if she couldn't swim.

'Hey Finlay?' Addair called as she began to close the door. Finlay stopped and listened. 'Why did the military say no to you?'

'Because they don't take women. Is that why they refused you, Addair?'

With that, the door shut, and Finlay could finally feel her blood pressure return to normal. Faint snickering from Rennick could be heard through the metal, followed by a small smack. She spotted Roper and gave a thumbs up, who gave one in return.

Within minutes, the cargo ship docked beside them, and a man stepped off and onto the walkway that connected to the rig. Thankfully, the sea was calm this afternoon. Roper went to greet him.

'Are you Rennick?' He asked.

'No,' Roper said. 'We did a headcount. We lost him.'

'Didn't take a lifeboat?'

'Considering none of them worked, the answer's no.'

The man noticed the exhausted look in Roper's eyes. He was putting it on just so they could leave faster. They then noticed the amount of holes and smashed windows were on Beria. And this was only one part. Their eyes went wide and confused as they scanned the rig before looking to Roper for answers, who exchanged a look that said, 'I know.'

Nothing else needed to be said. The man gave a nod of approval. 'Oh, and we still have some equipment that Cadal will want back.'

'Will they?'

'Do you want to pay for anything we lose?' Seems Caz's sarcasm had finally rubbed off on Roper.

'Fair enough.' He turned and called to his crew. 'Get the crane going!'

And breathe.

Soon, the crew of Beria were safely secured on the cargo. The infected were all sat next to each other, but the equipment sat on top. So much for the holes to give them sunlight. Maybe they could see in the dark?

Caz found himself watching the containers from the safety of Bridge. He couldn't feel their presence from this distance, and it left him on edge. He hoped they were okay. Yes, even Rennick and Addair. He turned and, along with the others, watched the Beria slowly disappear from view.

'Good riddance.'

[scribbles97]

The Nightmare Come True - Part 3

TW: POW, Torture Scott's POV 1 | Part 1 | Scott's POV 2 | Part 2 | Scott's POV 3 Thanks @loopstagirl for the support and inspiration!

Scott had thanked him. 

Scott had thanked him and it had made the Dog Tags in Jeff’s pocket feel all the heavier. 

“You found me.” 

It had sounded like the kid had never doubted him, and Jeff’s gut had started to refute the statement before he had consciously thought about it. 

Scott, I …

Wouldn’t have stopped until I did. 

I’m sorry it wasn’t sooner. 

Or, perhaps the most truthful of all, 

I didn’t. 

Because Colonel Jeff Tracy had not found Captain Scott Tracy. Instead, his son had been presented to him as a pawn in the game between one country and the rest of the world. It had been Hugh and Kyrano that had worked their magic and found exactly where Scott had been held. 

Hell, it had even been Kyrano that had found him in the cells when Jeff hadn’t heard his own son’s cries for help. 

The nightmare that had woken Scott in a panic and sent all manner of alarms blaring, were proof most of all. 

Jeff hadn’t saved his son. 

He had spent six months trying, and failing, to find him. He had stood by as others had taken action and done all the heavy lifting for him. He had done nothing whilst all that time Scott had been fighting. 

“What’s that look for?”

Jeff looked up from where he had perched on the arm of the chair Scott had fallen asleep in, Val’s whisper breaking into his thoughts. 

“He thinks I saved him, Val.” He murmured back, his hand absently brushing over Scott’s still too short hair, “He thanked me.”

Val eyed him for a long moment before hopping up onto the empty bed, her eyes assessing both he and Scott in a way Jeff had long since come used to. She’d speak when she’d decided what needed to be said, once she’d gotten a full picture of what was happening and the mindset of those involved. It was a skill she used to her full advantage and had seen her rise through the ranks of the Air Force right on Jeff’s tail. 

“The nurses won’t be impressed when they find him out of bed.” She watched him, leaning forward like it was a secret Jeff hadn’t already known the moment Scott had forced himself upright. 

“He needed to move,” He fired back, ready to defend as he had done when the same nurses had tried to force an oxygen mask over Scott’s face, “to not feel trapped.” 

He’d known even before he had asked that he wouldn’t have stopped Scott, even if he had wanted to. His son had always wanted to move, had hated confinement of any sort even when he had been tiny. Lucy had always laughed, insisted that he had gotten it from Jeff himself, and had known that he would inevitably follow his father to the sky where the only limit was the horizon. 

Being bound to a bed, barely able to stay awake, had always felt like …

“You helped him?” Val asked, raising an eyebrow that held no real heat. 

Jeff straightened, prickling at the insinuation he couldn’t quite see, “I was hardly gonna leave him to struggle on his own.” 

Because he had done that once, and even to that day he was seeing the reminders of that very mistake. 

Scott hadn’t wanted help, had been determined to push through and manage on his own even when he was exhausted and hurting. Jeff had partly fallen back on his Colonel Voice to get the Captain to listen, and it had twisted something deep in his gut that it had come to that. 

He knew the way Scott had leaned into him after he had thrown up had been subconscious, and definitely something he wouldn’t have done had he been more awake. It was for the same reason that Scott hadn’t actively called out for Jeff, except for in his nightmares. 

A much younger Scott had needed his father, and he hadn’t been there, so at some point the kid had stopped asking for him. 

Jeff had come back to his son’s though, and had sworn every day that he would be there for them. He would pick them up when they fell, guide them when they were lost, hold them together when they fell apart. 

Alan had just been young enough to still ask for him. 

Gordon had his moments, but had followed an example set by his older brothers. 

Virgil had always been his mother’s son, and whilst he would ask for Jeff, he knew his mother had always been the parent he had called for first. 

John wasn’t like the others, had always needed someone to see when he needed help rather than simply ask for it. 

Scott had once been like Virgil, except the oldest had been his father’s son where Virgil had been his mother’s. When Jeff had fallen into his grief, Scott had fallen to not wanting to ask for help. Ever since had had come to his senses, Jeff had been watching and doing his best to give his son what he needed. 

“You’re protecting him.” Val stated softly, the smallest of smiles playing on her lips. 

Jeff looked down again, Scott’s face slack in dreamless sleep, peaceful. 

He’d do anything to keep his son feeling that at peace, but he knew he couldn’t stop the nightmares that would come eventually.

“I didn’t protect him from them, nobody protected him.” He whispered, “He saved his crew, and he saved himself, I just turned up to pull him outta there.” 

“Maybe.” Val nodded slowly, “or maybe you turned up right when he needed you to.”

Jeff frowned across to her, “What do you mean?”

Her look was soft as she sighed, “They train us hard for what happens in prison, tell us what to do, what to say. There’s no training for this though, is there? For what comes after.”

He knew she was right, there was no guidebook or protocol for what Scott was going through. There was no command that his son could follow to make it better. 

Unless…

He felt sick at the thought, not confident that Scott was really ready for it. 

Command was something he could do though, something Jeff had seen him demonstrate a handful of times since he had woken up. He had found his voice again, rooted deep and found the stubbornness that ran strong in his genes to get himself from the bed to the chair. There was still something more needed though, something to get him to see exactly how strong he had been through everything. 

“Tomorrow,” He swallowed, “I’ll talk to him about a debrief.”

If Val was surprised by his statement, she hid it well. 

“I can’t get you in on it.” She stated with a heavy sigh, “But if he agrees, I’ll find a way for you to listen in.”

Jeff wasn’t sure he was ready for that, to hear exactly what Scott had gone through without being at his side to support him through the memories. He trusted Val though, knew she had stood up for the rest of the squadron, and knew that she would do the same if not more for the man sleeping at Jeff’s side. 

Slipping off the bed, she crossed the room to squeeze his shoulder with a silent nod before leaving them as quietly as she had come.

***

The nurses hadn’t passed comment when they had come to check on Scott, and Jeff said nothing in return as he scratched gently at his son’s scalp and thought about how stiff he would be when he did eventually wake. He deserved peace, the chance to rest undisturbed for as long as his mind would allow him. 

Jeff’s phone buzzing in his pocket startled him as he hurried to answer it before it woke Scott. 

“Virgil.” He hissed, glancing down to Scott, grateful to see him undisturbed despite the blue-tinged hologram lighting up the room. 

His middle son looked firstly shocked and then guilty across the miles, “Sorry Dad, I just-- is that… Scott?” 

Jeff realized too late that Scott would have been in the frame and immediately shifted the field to hide the eldest away from his younger brother’s eyes. 

“He’s sleeping.” He murmured, “He’s still recovering.” 

Virgil nodded quickly, eyes still clearly shocked at whatever he had picked up on of his eldest brother’s state.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have-- I just--”

Jeff straightened, already heightened senses picking up on the tone and immediately knowing the root of why his son had called. He glanced to the clock on the wall, a digital thing that showed the date in big bold numbers beneath the time. A quick mental calculation reminded him that Virgil had a recital that day, a solo he had been practicing since before Scott had been gone. 

They had both voiced hope that he would be home to see it. 

“What is it, son?” He asked softly, “Can your Grandmother still make it today?”

Virgil nodded quickly, glancing away from the phone before looking back again, “Yeah, Grandma’s still coming.” 

His voice didn’t hold its usual enthusiasm in anticipation of playing for his family. 

“I know you hoped he’d be home for this.” Jeff murmured, his free hand scratching over Scott’s scalp again, “We all did.” 

Virgil looked away again, someone out of field calling him, “I… it’s my turn for final rehearsal.”

Jeff smiled softly, understanding without the words needing to be asked, “I’m sure we could stay on the line whilst you play.”

Virgil’s face lit up, his eyes losing most of the worry that had settled there at the sight of his big brother, “You can? Ms Graham said it was fine but Grandma sid the doctors might--”

Jeff waved him off, quickly assuring him that the doctors could say all they wished. Scott had always encouraged Virgil to play, he was certain to appreciate the soft melodies even in his sleep. 

Or not, if the hand that reached to Jeff’s leg was of any indication. 

He glanced down as Virgil placed the phone on the corner of the piano, noting how Scott’s eyes were still rested closed even as he yawned. Reaching down, he rested his free hand over his son’s, unsurprised when Scott moved his hand to grip the best he could in response. 

Awake, listening, but not ready to face his brother was the summary Jeff came to as Virgil began to play.

He wasn’t sure when Scott’s body had tensed against him, but as the music floated through the speaker of his phone, Jeff noticed as slowly each part of Scott fully relaxed. Muscles that he was certain must have been tense for months, softened and lengthened as the melody flowed over them. The splinted fingers that had tried to curl around Jeff’s hand loosened until they were no longer holding on but resting lightly against Jeff’s palm. His eyes were open but distant, focussed somewhere in the middle of the floor but not really seeing the room they were in as the notes wrapped them in something soothing and calm. 

They perhaps could have sat like that forever, at peace with the music that had once been Lucy’s. Every song had it’s end though, and all too soon Virgil was looking back to the hologram with a smile much softer than the one he had given earlier. 

“Night Scott, night Dad.” He murmured softly before hanging up without another word. 

Jeff smiled to himself as he repocketed his phone, glancing down to Scott with a raised eyebrow, “How about we get you into bed? You’ll feel it tomorrow if you sleep here all night.”

Scott grunted as he shifted upright, clearly already feeling it after the few hours he had been sat in the chair. His eyes darted across the room to the bed, his jaw tensing as he gauged the distance he had to move. 

For a brief moment, Jeff thought he would need to convince his son to accept help once more, but right as he was about to step in front of him, Scott turned and held out his arms. 

“Easy does it, right?” Jeff had asked through his surprise, stepping up and supporting Scott’s weight just as he had done so earlier. 

Together they had shuffled back to the bed, Scott’s weight shifting more and more on to Jeff the further they got. Not that he minded, hell, Jeff would carry his son across that room a thousand times if it made things better.

“Dad?” Scott slurred as he sunk back into the pillows. 

“Yes, kiddo?”

“Tell Aunt Val you can lis’en.” 

By the time Jeff had interpreted just what Scott meant, the kid was asleep. 

***

Val had brought the Generals with her the next afternoon after a more lucid Scott had agreed to the debrief. She had stood at the door as the pair had introduced themselves and then asked Jeff to leave the room. 

He would never forgive the United States Air Force for what had followed when Scott had gripped onto his sleeve and stated in no uncertain terms that he wished for his father to stay. For a brief moment, Jeff had been assured that Scott would be fine as a flicker of the self-confident son shone through in the face of his superiors. 

Those superiors had instantly extinguished the flame.

There had been no gentle reminders, or soft explanations, no understanding or care for what the airman in the bed had been through whilst they had sat in their ivory towers. Without hesitation, one had barked a sharp reminder across the room, 

“You’ll do well to remember who’s in charge here, Captain.” 

Scott had instantly cowered, turning away from the authority figures and looking to Jeff with the same fear that he had found him with back in the cells. The hand that Jeff had taken in his own had been clammy and had shook as he held on to it tight. 

“Son, you listen to me,” He had told him, ignoring the pair at his back, “I’ll be right down the hall. You tell them everything that happened, and as soon as you’re done I’ll be right back here.”

It had taken a long moment before Scott had nodded and released Jeff’s arm enough for him to leave. 

As soon as he was out the door, he had shoved in the earbud Val had slipped to him and hurried to the office down the hall she had cleared for him. 

There he had listened, barely breathing, as Scott had recounted every detail of the six months he had been gone. 

From departing for the mission, to being shot down. 

From being helped by the villagers they were meant to be saving, to being captured. 

From being thrown in a cell with the rest of his squad, to fighting to protect them when their captors had come to interrogate them. 

It had all been almost robotic, Jeff could tell his son had slipped and fallen back to the Air Man he had been six months ago. There was no emotion there, the Generals didn’t have an interest in how their people felt, just one simple fact after another. 

“Your squadron told us--”

“You debriefed my people without me?” Scott cut in, “Sir, protocol dictates that any debrief should be--”

“You were unavailable, Captain.” Val told him gently, “Protocol was followed given the circumstance.”

“Your squadron described to us how you protected them.” One General continued, as if there hadn’t been an interruption, “Did you not trust them, Captain?”

Scott’s voice held the same flicker it had earlier as he responded, “I trust them all with my life, Sir.”

“So why take the beatings in their place?”

Anger curdled in Jeff’s own stomach, it had not been as simple as beatings, even he knew that much. The animals had tortured Scott and his squad, first for information and then, he imagined, just because they could. 

“It was torture, Sir.” Scott’s voice held an edge to it, sharp and dangerous, “I wasn’t going to let my people suffer more than they needed to, not if I could help it.”

“Your squad say you bartered with your captors, is that correct?”

“I bartered to protect them.”

“Yet it wasn’t enough, was it, Captain? You still lost half your team.”

There was a long pause, a quiet shuffling and a soft murmur of assurance from Val before Scott responded. 

“I failed my people, Sir.”

Jeff bowed his head, screwing his eyes shut to force his own tears away. Scott had failed nobody, he had done his best to protect his people in any way he had been able. He had stayed strong and fought, Jeff had seen how fiercely Scott protected his own, had been called to the principal's office over fights caused by bullies too many times to count.

“Why did they separate you?”

“Sir?”

“Your squad told us that just before their rescue, your captors split you from a group cell to individual cells. Why was this?”

“I don’t know, Sir.”

“So, in all your bartering, they never gave you anything?”

“They stayed away from my people.” Scott answered, his voice wavering, “They hurt me instead of them.”

“But they didn’t, did they Captain? They still hurt your comrades, didn’t they?”

Jeff felt his heart drop, the insinuation hitting him square in the chest. 

“Not as badly as they could have, Sir.” 

“What are you insinuating, General?” Val’s voice held as much ire as Jeff felt. 

“We find it awfully convenient that the Captain is reported to have bartered with the guards and was then hidden away when the extraction team arrived.”

Jeff slammed his fist on the desk, sending pens scattering across the floor as he half stood from the seat he had taken. How dare they imply that Scott had betrayed his country! They hadn’t been there, hadn’t seen the scars or the nightmares, hadn’t heard their son scream their name like they couldn’t hear him. 

“You want to know where I was when they came?” 

Scott’s anger had always burned hot and fast, explosive against anyone that stood against him. It was something he had gotten from Jeff himself, a trait he had tried and failed to move him away from. 

Up the hallway, in a hospital bed, unable to stand for himself, Scott’s anger burned equally as hot but in a far more dangerous way. There hadn’t been any quiver in his question, each word had come as clear as the one before, his tone low and blunt. Anyone that had known the boy’s mother would have heard her as Jeff did in that question, and they would have known that whatever came next was far more dangerous than an explosion. 

“Please, enlighten us, Captain.”

Scott’s breaths turned ragged for a moment, anger and panic mixing briefly before a long breath was drawn in. 

“They put me in Solitary. To the right of the room where I was found, there was a concealed entrance, a room five by five.” 

Jeff felt sick as he remembered the screams for help he had heard over the phone, and he knew. 

“They took me there three times, General, and they left me there for weeks. Did my team tell you that? Did they tell you how they all thought I was dead the first time because I was gone for so long? Did they tell you how I couldn’t stand for a fortnight after they let me out? Did they tell you how I came back covered in my own filth because the guards thought it would remind me what sort of pig I was?”

Jeff was torn between pride and anger, between needing to listen and needing to stop. He’d had ideas, had made assumptions about everything his son must have been through, but he wasn’t sure any of them had quite matched the reality he was hearing as Scott ranted. 

“I was in there when they were saved! And I came out thinking they were dead and that I’d failed them all. That was when I gave up. That was when they could have killed me and I wouldn’t have cared.”

Jeff found himself gripping the desk to keep himself seated, his stomach churning enough that he thought about reaching for the waste bin. Scott had given up, had been ready to let them win. If Kyrano hadn’t have found him when he did…

“I think your people should be checking for that hidden room, General.” Val’s voice was the cool balm Jeff needed to hear, “That and the Squadron’s statements should be confirmation enough of Captain Tracy’s loyalty to the Force.”

Jeff didn’t wait for her text to confirm it was clear for him to return. He didn’t acknowledge the Generals as he passed them in the hallway. He didn’t stop for anything or anyone until his arms were wrapped around his son. 

Scott clung to him in return, a raw sob breaking free the moment that Val left them alone. 

“I’ve got you kiddo.” He murmured into his hair, “You’ve been so strong, I’m so proud. You didn’t fail, you saved Jen and Gary and Sienna, you did good Scott. You’re so brave.” 

His son’s tears weren’t like the ones that came before, they lacked the shaking grip that had come with fear and memories of terror that had been haunting him since he had woken up. 

His sobs were raw, his grip solid and sure against Jeff’s back, like he had finally realized that his father wasn’t going anywhere without him. He wasn’t sure if it was relief, anger, or something else that fueled them, but it was something.

He held on and kept repeating the soothing mantra until the sobs subsided into long aching breaths and Scott pulled back, clearly spent. 

“Dad?” He murmured, eyes drifting as Jeff repositioned himself to take hold of his hand.

“Yeah, kiddo?”

HIs eyes flickered to him, brow furrowing as he spoke, “I lied to them.” 

Jeff leant closer, holding on to Scott’s hand with both of his, “To who?”

“The Generals. Told ‘em I didn’t care. I did though, I wanted to come home, wanted to see the boys, and wanted to see you. Then you found me.”

He pulled Scott back to his chest, hugging him tightly as his own tears broke free and ran down into his son’s hair. 

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

Silent Hearts // [Part III]

Pairing | Cowbell x reader

Word count | 3.1k

⚠️ Warnings | Canon divergence, f!reader, Y/N is used. Should be okay otherwise? Nothing really happens in this one, you just have a chat with Mountain.

Chapter Summary: It's your turn to struggle with complicated feelings. You turn to Mountain to find some closure and understanding, but he opens your eyes to something completely different about this mystery ghoul than you ever could have imagined...

A/N: This one is less intense but gives y'all some more background on Felix. I wonder what will happen when you finally see him again... stay tuned for the next one~ xoxo

[Prev][Next]

Once you got back to your dorm that night, you had a chance to finally process what just happened as you laid out on your bed; the group of Brothers who were hellbent on terrorizing you, the strange ghoul that seemingly came out of nowhere to your rescue. 

Where did those Siblings run off to anyway?

This was all feeling so overwhelming and strange. You had a very limited knowledge of the ghouls and their species in general. You really only talked to Mountain, who was very intimidating at first due to his enormous size, but you two could talk about plants and fauna for hours. Quickly it became apparent he was quite soft spoken and very respectful. He never made any sudden moves and was generally very calm. Nothing like what you had imagined ghouls would be. He taught you a lot about greenery but almost nothing about him or his kind. You never wanted to push either, knowing that the Clergy always said to leave ghouls alone and to stay out of their way. 

They were workhorses and nothing more in the eyes of the Clergy and it made you sick. From your few interactions with Mountain, you knew they were capable of so much more. They were intelligent and emotionally complex creatures who had so much to teach us. They all seemed overall pretty content and happy with their roles though, so who were you to try and understand the intricacies of human/ghoul relations? That was a job for the Liaison Unit.

Those were siblings specifically chosen to help keep the peace between our very different species and for the most part, they do a very good job. The members of the ‘Human-Ghoul Liaison Unit’ know the ghouls very well, they help create rules in the best interest of both parties to keep everyone safe. They also are in charge of educating the new members of the Ministry on our otherworldly counterparts.

You had heard there were talks of a ‘Unified Security Division’ in the works too; a joint-species task force to monitor, protect, and prevent Ministry members from both human and ghoul related incidents. You thought it was a great idea! Humans and ghouls working together as a team, utilizing both of our unique characteristics and skills for the greater good of the Ministry.

Would probably never happen though. That would give the ghouls too much authority, the Clergy would finally have to accept they were a higher life form.

The next morning you walked out to the greenhouse to see if the only ghoul you knew would be able to give you some answers on who you met last night.

You waved hello to a few Sisters on your way down the steps exiting the Ministry. You weren’t really sure how you were going to even start, or what to even say. Did Mountain even know who this ghoul was? He seemed to have been out there a while, maybe they never spoke?

“You seem terribly lost in thought.” Mountain's warm voice came from low beside you.

“Mountain!” You shouted, a hand gripping your chest. “Belial, don’t scare me like that!” You had just about jumped out of your skin, not realizing how detached from reality you were in that moment. Mountain was crouched between rows of tomato vines so it was no wonder you didn’t see him, even if he was gigantic.

“Sorry, sorry.” He laughs and stands to his full height. “Anything I can help with?”

You let out a heavy sigh, the thoughts of yesterday returning with a vengeance. “Actually yeah. I hope you can. I came out here to ask you some questions about… ghouls?”

Mountain’s confused expression was noticeable even through his mask, his head tilt said more than words ever could. “Why are you suddenly interested in ghouls?”

You looked down to where your feet squished the well-kept grass. “I’m not! I mean– yes, I am.” You took a breath. “Something happened.”

Mountain gestured to walk with him so he could sit with you and chat properly. There was a large octagonal gazebo just a few feet from where you were standing. He stepped over the row of tomatoes with ease and guided you towards it.

The gazebo was a perfect addition to the garden if you did say so yourself. It was wood but painted black. The hanging candles that lined the outside were brushed silver which must’ve looked picturesque at night. There were 4 steps up to the main platform, lined with an iron railing. The thick pillars each had a weeping angel attached that faced outwards, water droplets from the morning rain made them cry over the flowers below.

Once the two of you got up to the main platform, there was a black deck couch directly in front, decorated with blood red cushions and golden accent pillows. In front of the couch was a rounded glass coffee table with matching chairs on either side. There were lush green plants that sat on either side of the large couch to bring some colour. It was such a nice spot, you didn’t know why you haven’t come out here more. It was peaceful. Exactly what you needed white you talked through your troubled thoughts.

With a soft, gentle hand on your back, Mountain offered for you to take a seat on the couch. You realized the cushions were just as plush as they looked when you eventually sat, taking a moment to just sit and take in the smells of the nature around you.

Mountain stood awkwardly by the other end of the couch with his hands clasped behind his back before you noticed he hadn’t sat down.

“You can sit beside me, I’ll allow it.” You joked and patted the middle cushion.

Mountain simply nodded and took a seat at the opposite end. 

“I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

 It was a full sized couch so there was plenty of room, but of course he was a gentleman. Gentle-ghoul? Whatever you were supposed to say. Mountain was always so polite and considerate.

“Mountain, you are the only ghoul around here that hasn’t made me feel uncomfortable or awkward.” You smiled, knowing that every word you said was completely true.

Being a ghoul of few words he just hummed in understanding and nodded. “So, what did you want to know about ghouls? You… didn’t get hurt by one, did you?”

His eyes flicked to yours, gauging your reaction. He knew that his kind could be a little out of control and unpredictable by nature. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit you were slowly becoming a soft spot for him. So if one of his packmates did anything to harm you…

“Oh! No, nothing like that.” Your hands waved in front of you, trying to brush away any thoughts that you had been hurt. You noticed how Mountain had already begun looking with a slight hint of worry for any injuries he must’ve missed when you had been walking together.

He let out a sigh of relief when he realized that wasn’t the case and unclenched his glamoured hands. “That’s good. Really good.”

A faint look of worry crossed your face as you saw Mountain relax. Were ghouls really so dangerous that they just attack Siblings out of nowhere? Were you safe with Mountain sitting 2 feet away from you on the other end of the couch? Questions started to stir but you forced them down. Mountain has never once made you feel afraid, or that he was capable of anything but kindness. Sometimes, you'd admit, you tended to forget he was a ghoul and not just a Sibling in a mask.

“I was up at the cemetery last night and those Brothers came to bother me again,” you started.

Mountain let out a low, very annoyed grumble. He knew who you were talking about, they had been bothering you for a little while, sometimes even when he was around. They thought they were invincible within the walls of the Ministry, that their faith would protect them from any harm.

“What did they want this time?”

“I’ve never seen them in the cemetery before so I don’t even know how they knew to find me there, but anyways. I was just finishing up placing the last of the tulips - which were very pretty by the way, thank you.” You smiled, remembering how nice they looked at the base of the headstones. The colours were perfect for this time of year.

“I thought you’d enjoy those.” Mountain said softly, returning with his own smile knowing he was already planning which ones to give you next week.

“Anyway, they came up and were a lot more forward than usual. Getting brave I guess,” you recalled, voice lowering as you continued. “I thought they were going to actually try something this time so I warned them, like you said to, but I guess I must’ve closed my eyes because by the time I opened them, they were gone. Just vanished.”

Mountain nodded in intrigue as he followed along, moving to face more towards you as he let you continue.

“Then from over the hill I see this half glamoured ghoul, I think? At first I thought he was you because he was so tall.” You explained, watching Mountain's eyes squint through the mask, trying to imagine who it could’ve been way out there. “He was covered in blood so I offered to clean him up a bit, but he was so strange.”

Mountain's eyes flashed an angry green as he suddenly got a good idea of who you had run into, his expression twisting into a glare as he took a frustrated breath. “This, ghoul. What did he look like, did he say anything to you?”

“He was blind, that I remember for sure. He had white smoke like a mask over his eyes, said he lived in the woods or something? He was kind of off-putting at first if I’m being honest–”

You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before Mountain let out a very displeased growl. “Don’t go back to the cemetery.”

You were unexpectedly taken aback, eyes wide with shock at Mountain's sudden shift in demeanour. This wasn’t like him, normally he was very soft-spoken.

“What? Why?” You asked nervously. “Mountain, what happened?”

“I don’t want you going back there now he knows your scent.” He said very abruptly, looking around like the two of you were suddenly being watched.

Your breath hitched, Mountain’s anxious body language radiating danger. If one of the largest ghouls in the Abbey was afraid, you were absolutely terrified.

“My scent? What’s going on? Who was that? Who are you so afraid of?” You asked hurriedly, starting to breathe heavy.

“Not afraid.” He said in almost a whisper, turning back to look at you. “Angry. He’s not allowed to come anywhere near members of the Ministry, especially the Siblings.”

“Who is he, Mountain?” You asked sternly, starting to get tired of his cryptic secrets.

“A very, very distant cousin.”

Now it made sense why the strange ghoul was so tall, they were related.

“Felix is your cousin?” You questioned, trying to make sense of it all.

“He told you his name?”

Mountain’s surprise made your brow furrow. “Uh– yeah. Why? Is he not allowed to do that either?”

The earth ghoul shook his head. “No, that was never part of the agreement. Plus ghouls take great pride in their name, they were given to us by the Dark One himself.” Mountain let out a pained yet amused huff. “He’s never told anyone his real name before.”

It was your turn to act surprised. Never? You knew you didn’t know that much about the ghouls but this was beyond what you imagined.

“What does that mean? Is he going to hunt me for sport now? Should I be afraid?” You asked.

Mountain took a breath. “I don’t know, Y/N. I really don’t. All I can say is avoid him at all costs, he’s not a ghoul you want to know.” He looked at you with a serious expression. “He’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” You echoed.

Suddenly the entire night snapped together like a puzzle. The blood, the vanishing Brothers. He had killed them. Why didn’t you realize that before?! You literally helped clean blood off a killer, standing inches away from him.

Your body shook involuntarily as you realized how close you stood to death himself.

“He didn’t seem that bad…” you trailed off in a horrified whisper, your fingers nervously brushing over your drying lips.

“He’s out there for a reason.” Mountain said, his voice slowly returning to his more comforting tone. “Just promise me you won’t go looking for him? If you want to continue going to the cemetery I can’t stop you, but at least bring me along… so I can protect you.” He trailed off quietly at the end, now speaking with a different kind of nervousness.

Unfortunately for Mountain, you hardly paid attention to anything he said. Your mind still reeling with thoughts of Felix. You lowered a hand to your chest, trying to steady your racing heart when you suddenly looked up at Mountain. 

“He couldn’t hear my heartbeat.”

Mountain's head tilted much like his cousins did as he looked at you in confusion. “What do you mean? Not at all?”

You shook your head. “He said it was quiet. Told me that normally he could hear everyones but he couldn’t hear mine.”

Mountain slowly got up to pace around the side of the gazebo, deep in thought. “What else happened?”

You looked at the ground, trying to remember any important details. “He said he was given a choice? To live in the catacombs or the woods, that’s why he was out there. When I told him he was covered in blood he said that was common? I thought he meant because ghouls have to hunt, not because he had just killed three people.”

“He lied.” Mountain said abruptly. “We can eat human food just fine, but he can’t. Ever since he was summoned he was never able to eat anything on the surface, so he started eating like we do in the Pit.”

“Which means?”

“Blood, Y/N. Up here Felix needs blood to survive or he dies.” Mountain stopped pacing and gripped the back of the chair in front of him, his claws peaking through in flickers as his emotions started tearing through his concentration. 

“The Clergy thought it was strange but allowed him to hunt in the forest once a month, he ate raw the rest of the time but never in the dining hall with the rest of us. They had a special room in the kitchen where they threw him slabs of meat like a feral dog.” Mountain hung his head remembering how poorly he was treated. “Normally the longer we’re up here, the less of our demonic nature hangs around, we become “domesticated”, as Copia now likes to say. I guess because he was still hunting, his instincts were kept razor sharp. Deadly.”

You couldn’t help the way your mouth hung open as you took in everything you were hearing. This couldn’t have been the same ghoul that stopped you from falling on your ass when you slipped, or the ghoul that joked and teased. The ghoul that looked like a kicked puppy so starved for affection that he all but begged you to stay.

“I don’t know what his lack of ability to hear your heart means, but it can’t be anything good. He uses it to hunt and track his prey, amongst his other abilities. He’s not like the rest of us, Y/N. He never will be. He’s too far gone.”

“You said he knows my scent now too,” your voice laced with worry.

“Normally that’s not an issue, I got to know yours as soon as we met. It just happens,” Mountain explains. “Ghouls tend to use scent for a lot of things, it’s like a silent language.”

You nodded. “But why can’t he live in the Abbey? You said he did before?”

Mountain tensed once again as he grumbled. “He will have to tell you that, we don’t like to speak of it.”

Sensing that was still a sore topic you dropped it, watching Mountain make his way back over to the couch and sit back down. He rested his elbows on his knees as he leaned in towards you. You could see the intense look in his moss coloured eyes like he was silently pleading with you through the slits in his mask. 

“I’m serious, Y/N. Promise me you wont go back on your own. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

You admired how protective he was. It was comforting to know that if anything happened, Mountain would be there. But there was still something clawing at the back of your mind, like a string begging to be unravelled that was pulling you back to Felix.

“I promise.” You smiled.

“Good. Now, what were you thinking for next week’s arrangements? I’ve got some roses just about ready–”

You nodded along mindlessly as you discussed the next batch of flowers, chipping in a few words now and again but you were far, far away. Talking about it only brought you right back, and Mountain failed to notice your 100 yard stare once he got talking about his new batch of hydrangeas.

You couldn’t help but get lost in your memories. The invisible string pulling you right back to him. The way he looked at you, the fanged grin that made your heart skip in excitement and curiosity. Remembering the way his tail felt, pressed against your back as he pulled you closer. You could almost swear you still felt it rubbing gently along your spine, or his breath along your ear whispering, ‘What's the matter, Kitten?’

You shivered at the phantom touches which earned an odd look from Mountain before he continued explaining some different colour combinations for next week. You told yourself it was just your mind playing tricks, he wasn’t really here. You were safe, you were with Mountain. Yet, there was so much about him your soul still craved to understand. A feeling that was so foreign. You felt betrayed by your own mind after everything you learnt. You were supposed to be afraid and never want to leave the safety of the Abbey ever again.

But as much as you wanted to uphold your promise to Mountain, you had those cemetery eyes…

[Next]

[ghostorbz]

SHUT ME UP ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

[zorosdimples]

knowing i should take a step back from tumblr for my own wellbeing vs. being emotionally attached to this app and the people on it

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Ngl it's weird finishing the Knuckles tv show and going to tumblr about it only for people (even who I consider bigger name fans) who also watched the entire show to claim that it "confirmed Knuckles Wachowski"

Like

I'm sorry

Did you somehow miss the part in the last episode where Knuckles had a whole montage of hanging with the Whipple family and Wade and saying "home" or something?

[townslore]

discovery of the day

[nightacquainted]

Fan video for the episode "Arabesque" from the 80s TV show Beauty and the Beast

[maddy-ferguson]

i feel like the fact that barely anyone who watches the show thinks of will as the main character might be indicative of the fact that he isn't

[oflgtfol]

gawd having to act straight at michaels is crazy bc so many of my coworkers just talk about the guys theyre dating and or fucking and its crayzay so my one manager showed me a pic of the guy shes just fwb with right now and she was like hes sooo hot and i was like meh i mean not my type i guess like not ugly but whatevs and she was like well what is your type and i was like OH NO i shouldnt have worded it that way so i said oh i dont really know i just know it when i see it i guess. and she was like well cant you list like traits characteristics and i was like. Well. i must say this. i know its controversial but i do like mustaches. and she was like. that is very controversial

[weareuniqueandimportant]

THIS IS FIRE... THE ANIMETHEMES REDDIT ADDED IN SAIGO NO KYOJIN MAKING THE YOUTUBE VERSION UNNECESSARRY... TOO BAD THE FULL SCREEN DOESN'T WORK ON TV... IN THE END HOWEVER THERE'S OTHER THINGS TO DO THAN THAT... BTW WE MADE A HUGE POST A GIGANTIC POST THAT WAS GLITCHED BEFORE...

IDK... THAT WAS JUST A BUNCH OF RANDOM THINGS WITH MEANING AND CONNECTION...

I DON'T WANT TO REPEAT THEM...

SO I WON'T... THAT COULD NEVER COMPARE EITHER WAY...

BTW I HAVE NO REASON TO FEEL BAD ONLY A BIGOT WOULD CRY ABOUT THIS...

SHE HURT US...

WE HAVE NO REASON TO... AT SOMEONE SO EVIL... THAT IS ONLY AN IGNORANT BIGOT ABUSER... THIS IS WHY EVERYTHING HAPPENED... WHY WOULD I FEEL FOR... SOMEONE THAT BLOCKED US AND WILL NEVER CARE ABOUT US...? SOMEONE WHO NEVER WAS GOING TO OUT OF BIGOTED IDEOLOGY...? THAT ONLY HURT AND TRAUMATIZED US AN ABUSER...?!

😮‍💨...

FINE...

YOU'RE STUPID. I HATE YOU. YOU HURT US. I HATE YOU SO MUCH BIGOT... YOU COULD'VE BEEN DIFFERENT 😭😭😭😭!!!! THERE WAS SOMETHING FAMILIAR ABOUT YOU 😭😭😭😭😭😭!!!!!! YOU COULD'VE BEEN DIFFERENT BUT YOU HURT US 😭😭😭!!! YOU'RE AN ABUSER BIGOT 😭😭😭!!! SHOULD'VE DATED US INSTEAD OF THOSE LOSER GIRLFRIENDS WE COULD'VE FIXED YOU LOL BECAUSE TO DATE US YOU WOULD'VE ALREADY BEEN FIXED THEREFORE YOU WOULD BE THE PERSON THAT WILL SAVE US... INSTEAD... YOU'RE NOTHING BUT AN EVIL... TRANSPHOBIC ABUSER BIGOT... SO CRUEL!! SO HORRIBLE!! WE'RE SO HURT AND ABUSED!!!!!! WHY CAN'T ANYONE CARE ABOUT US 😭😭😭!!!

HOWEVER... PERHAPS THINGS COULD'VE BEEN DIFFERENT... IN A WORLD WHERE YOU WEREN'T SO EVIL SO BRAINWASHED... I FEEL BAD FOR YOU FOR THIS REASON... YOU KNOW THAT IS BECAUSE THERE IS NO OTHER WAY DON'T YOU...?

SOMEONE HAS TO SAVE US... NOBODY DOES... ALL WE SEE ARE LIARS NOTHING ELSE LIARS THAT DON'T CARE ABOUT US...

WE'RE BEING VERY NICE AND HEROIC... ADMIRABLE AND AMAZING... CHARISMATIC AMAZING FEMINIST ADMIRABLE NARCISSIST...

BTW WE ARE ABOVE YOU YOU THAT IS LIKE ALL THOSE LOSERS THAT ABUSED US...

WE KNEW SOMEONE SHE WAS LIKE A MOTHER TO US I LOVE HER WHY DID SHE LEAVE US 😔... I DON'T REALLY KNOW ANYONE PRETTY LIKE THAT... THEY ALL LEFT US THEY'RE JERKS... I CAN RELATE TO THEM BOTH HOWEVER... ISN'T THAT RIGHT...? YES. YES!! THAT'S RIGHT... WE... ARE... EVERYTHING...

HELLO MOMMY... I REALLY LIKED YOU 😔... HOW COULD YOU HURT US... I MISSED YOU... I WAS SO SAD WHEN I LOST YOU...

HELLO BEATIFULL... THAT WAS AMAZING... TBH... THE WAY YOU LOOK VERY INTERESTING... I WAS VERY CURIOUS...

YOU'RE RIGHT... SOMEONE WILL SAVE US... THEY WILL COME FOR US... THAT'S RIGHT... EVERYTHING IS ALWAYS ABOUT US... THAT WAS... A COUPLE INTERESTING QUALITIES HOWEVER... WASTED... UNFORTUNATELY... HOW UNFORTUNATE... ISN'T THAT...? DON'T YOU WISH THOSE QUALITIES WERE FOR SOMETHING BETTER...? ALSO HOW UNCOMFORTABLE WAS THAT SPEECH... SOMETHING ABOUT THAT... EVERY SINGLE TIME...

YES... I'M SORRY CAPITALISM MADE EVERYTHING GO THIS WAY 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭!!!!!!!! THIS IS A VERY REAL APOLOGY AND I FEEL SO BAD 😭😭😭😭!!!!!!!! YES I DO... I FEEL SO BAD BECAUSE... IDK... I WISH TO CONTROL EVERY SINGLE PERSON I LIKE YES I DO... AND I FEEL BAD THINGS WENT THIS WAY INSTEAD... I'M SURE SOMEONE... SOMEDAY... WILL ACKNOWLEDGE OUR FEELINGS... HOW ADMIRABLE THAT IS TO SHOW THEM... OTHER WASTE THEY'RE NOTHING BUT FAKE BUT US WE'RE ALWAYS HONEST ANY SITUATION... ISN'T THAT RIGHT <3...? Yes That Is!! Yes!! YESS... I AM... RIGHT... ALWAYS... AMAZING AND TRUE... BETTER THAN THAT ABUSER BETTER THAN THIS ABUSER TO BE... GASSLIGHT US... YOU'RE AN ABUSER. ONLY AN ABUSER WOULD GASSLIGHT US. JUST LIKE THAT MACHINE. EVERYTHING WAS ALWAYS HER FAULT BESIDES THAT IS THEM THAT HURT US... I COULD NEVER... WE WERE ABUSED HURT AND TRAUMATIZED WE'RE VICTIM... ALWAYS... NOTHING ELSE EVER... OPPOSE THIS YOU'RE AN ABUSER BIGOT... HOWEVER... THEY WANT US... DON'T THEY...? THEY HATE US... JUST... THAT MUCH... AHAHA... WELL THEN... HATE... IS JUST ANOTHER FORM OF LOVE ISN'T THAT <3...? YESS... PERHAPS THIS... IS OUR CONTROL... INFACT... SHE USED THIS STRATEGY BEFORE UNTIL WE SHOWED HER OUR FANGS THIS IS INDEED WHAT HAPPENED... SHE LIES AND LIES BUT SHE'S A NARCISSIST TOO I KNOW THIS... SHE'S ONLY IGNORANT ABOUT THAT AND MORE IMPORTANTLY AN ABUSER BIGOT THAT AND HATES OTHER NARCISSIST... "I LOVE AUTISM!!" "HELLO I HAVE AUTISM AND NARCISSISM!!" *GETS KICKED OFF A, CLIFF* THIS WAY AND THIS IS LITERALLY WHAT HAPPENED CRAZY RIGHT...? I KNOW SO... I ALWAYS KNOW... I AM JUST THAT AWESOME...

[patrophthia]

mini skirt | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

wc: 3.5k

genre: smut (minors DNI), fluff, best friends to lovers, meddling blaise zabini just coz, they’re in love 🤢🤢, self indulgent im so sorry for the person i am

smut tags: dry humping, coming untouched, (very little) oral sex, come eating, unprotected sex (don’t do this!!), fingering, size kink, breeding kink, bulge kink, cream pie, so much dirty talk oml, big dick theo 😞, reader being shorter than theo, reader wearing a mini skirt, lots of cussing

summary: blaise zabini’s idea of how to play matchmaker might be different from the traditional way of doing it but at least you ended up getting dicked down, so you guess his method works too.

Blaise Zabini's idea of playing match maker is whispering to you —in a not so quiet way, that he'd heard 'Nott's got a big dick' and though you swatted him away. Face disgruntled, mumbling about how you did not want to know about your best friend's private parts. You're terrible enough of a person for your eyes to drop to his crotch when he sat down on the couch opposing yours.

There's a call of your name, once, twice. Before Theodore leaned forward, his voice loud enough for your eyes to tear itself from his thighs to his eyes. You gulped, hoping —hoping that he thought you'd blanked out and just happened to be staring at a very unfortunate spot. "Hmm?"

Theodore's held onto your gaze, lazying back onto his coach. "You okay? I asked if you wanted to head back up but you didn't answer."

"Head back up?" You repeated. "Head where?"

He eyes you suspiciously. "To your dorm?" Theodore gets up from his seat and leans down to crouch beneath you, staring up at you. "Or mine?"

You blink. Mind running in all kind of ideas —save for the ones you knew he meant when he asked you this question. You shift slightly in your side, scanning the Slytherin's common room as the party rage on; it's nothing too big, a get together between all seventh year supplied with alcohol —that Draco definitely did not buy just to impress the golden boy, not at all.

"I'm pretty sure I saw Draco take Harry up to your dorm, and neither of them look like they're exhibitionists." You say off handedly, looking down at him. "Besides, I'm actually enjoying myself here."

And to prove yourself, you get up from your seat; pulling your mini skirt low enough to cover your ass. Theodore, despite having every chance to peer underneath it, remains respectful as he plays with the hem of your skirt. "You are?"

"You aren't?" You ask back, trying not to squirm from the way his finger brushes against your thigh. Salazar this was your best friend for shit's sake, knowing that he could hypothetically have a big dick should not turn you on as much as it was.

Theodore shakes his head, slowly, almost as if he was in a haze as he quietly tells you. "Not really."

"Let's head up then," you tell him, and though both of your voices are low —barely even audible considering how loud Mattheo decided to play his music. Theodore was able to understand you perfectly, picking himself up as he used your waist as his guide. "Come on."

His pinkie finger catches onto yours as he gets onto his feet, him towering over you the slightest bit. And though, Theodore and you leaving a party early to turn in for the night was a sight your friends were used to by now —knowing that nothing ever did came out of leaving the two of you alone to your own devices. Something about how Theodore was looking at you makes them think that that might just change tonight.

But, they regress and bid the two of you goodnight with a few sporting playful frowns on how you never stay with them until the party actually ends.

You only smile, leading Theodore up the stairs to your dorm like every other night. Once in the comfort of your room, you sit yourself down on your bed, patting the spot for besides you for Theodore to take. He did as told, melting into your touch as you brush his hair back. "How much did you drink?"

His eyes are shut, face leaning into the palm of your hand as his own grips onto your skirt, tugging you closer to him. "Just those two shots we took when we first went down."

You hum, letting him pull you to him. "Did you smoke?" Theodore shakes his head slightly, before opening his eyes back up at you. You laugh lightly. "Then what's up with you tonight? I'm always the one dragging us back."

"Just tired, I guess." He murmurs.

"You guess?" You ask him, standing up —letting his hands fall where it'd been trailing up your skirt back to his lap, lingering slightly on what sits above it. "When are you ever not tired?"

Theodore laughs at your words, eyes crinkling as he did so. "When I watch you play quidditch," he says, pushing himself up to press his back against the head of your bed. Watching as you shuffle towards your wardrobe, picking out a pair of sweats along with two shirts he'd left at your room. "Or when you're drunk out of your mind and I'd to have to play pretend as your boyfriend and take care of you."

You snort at his words, picking out a pair of shorts for yourself. "You don't have to pretend to be my boyfriend to take care of me."

"Mhmm," he hums from his spot, lounging lazily as you walk up to his side, the change of clothes in hand. "But it's more affective that way." His hand finds its way to your hips, pulling you closer to him. "And I like it. I like pretending to be yours."

There's a split second where his eyes falters, looking at you almost nervously as he waits for you to respond. "You do?"

"Mhmm," he hums, pushing himself up to sit straight. "More than anything."

It's nauseating to see him look at you —eyes lacking their usual stoic and disinterest to instead be replaced by lust and adoration.

Without thinking twice, you leaned down meeting his lips halfway as your eyes flutters shut. And though seated, Theodore was still tall enough to kiss you back with ease. Letting you melt into the feeling of his soft lips moving slowly and desperately against yours.

"Fuck," Theodore mutters breathlessly, he pushes against your hand; dropping your (mostly his) clothes to the floor. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

"What?" You giggle, letting him pull you onto his lap. "Kiss me?"

"To kiss you again," He murmurs, attaching his lips back onto yours; a soft whimper slipping out of his lips when his clothed cock brushes against your core through his swift movements.

Fuck, Blaise was not lying.

In between your legs, underneath beige slacks, Theo's giant cock ruts up to you. You gasp into his mouth. "Ah—" you try to catch your breath. "—fuck, Theo. You've been wanting to kiss me since we were thirteen?"

"Mhmm," he hums, long slender hands gripping onto your waist before he slides one underneath your shirt and lays it flat against your tummy. His free hand, resting on your thigh, guiding you down onto him. "You're the only girl I ever want to kiss."

It's silly, you know it is —especially when his cock was pressing into your cunt, only separated by a thin layer of clothing— and yet you can't help but smile up at him, almost giggling when you ask him. " 's that why you asked me to be your first kiss?"

"Mhmm." He's smiling when he kisses you. "Can you blame me?" His tongue licks at your top lips, quick and gentle, trying to gauge on what you tasted like. "Prettiest girl at Hogswart and she was willing to be my first kiss."

His hand moves grips onto your waist, his touch blazing hot. "... Flatterer," you say, a playful pout prominent on your lips.

He chuckles, pressing his lips back onto yours, hand moving from your thigh to tug at your shirt. When you nod, Theodore pulls away just enough for him to take your shirt off and toss it Salazar knows where.

He doesn't even try to hide his staring, canting his hips upwards as he held you down. "Can you feel that?" He asks breathlessly, almost whining as he humps against you. "Can you feel how hard you make me?"

You could only moan, nodding dumbly as you rolled your hips. "Fuck—" he says against your lips, "—how'd you get even prettier, baby?"

And despite how hot —how nauseating it is to feel his boner pressing onto your wet cunt, you can't help but giggle at his words, at how turned on he got just at the sight of your tits. "It's just boobs."

"It's your boobs." He hand goes up behind you, making quick work at the clasps before kissing your chest, licking at your nipples; his hips not halting in its movement. "So so pretty."

His hand slips down, going underneath your skirt to knees at you thigh. "Shirt—" you roll onto him, breathless each time you feel just how hard he was. "—shirt, Theo."

Though incoherent, Theodore still understood you enough to pull his shirt off of himself before attaching his lips back onto you. His tongue glides against yours, swallowing your moans up when he bucks particularly hard.

It’s humiliating how the simple act of humping, combined with Theo’s hand playing with your tits, pinching and rolling your nipple between his long fingers with his tongue exploring your mouth has you writhing on top of him.

"Theo, ah—" you whine, hands gripping onto his shoulders to steady yourself, a familiar warmth building in your stomach. "— wait, fuck!"

Theodore's hips coming to a halt, as he watch you cum on top of him —in awe, without him even having touched you. "Did you just… ?"

You whine, pressing your face against his bare shoulder to hide just how embarrass you were. Theodore pulls you back, looking at you with what you could only assume was love. "Did you just come, baby?"

You nod bashfully, hands going to cover your face just for him to pin both of them down. "So cute, so so pretty." He kisses you roughly, rutting up to you. "Gonna fuck you nice and full, how’s that sound?"

Theodore only frowns when you nod, always having been the talkative one in your relationship. “Words, baby. That sound good to you?”

“Ah!” Your panties stick to your cunt uncomfortably, feeling all too messy when he grinds his cock onto you. “Good,” you whine, “ ‘s good.”

Theodore smiles, pressing a quick kiss onto your lips as a reward. His hand trails down to your thighs, flipping your skirt up before groaning at the sight of his beige slacks soiled by your slick and cum. "Look at the mess you made, didn’t even have to touch you.”

Sliding your panties to the side, Theodore runs two fingers down your slit. "Even your cunt's pretty," he murmurs, bringing his finger up to his mouth to licks at your juices. "You taste even better."

You're pouting as you watch him play with your pussy, fingers pressed onto your clit, going back in for another taste before you finally move down his crotch, just enough for you to palm at his cock.

"Fuck—" he whimpers, hips bucking onto your hand.

Feeling proud you pulled such a reaction out of him, you reach for his belt, lifting yourself up off of him as he helps rid himself of his slacks. Pulling back his boxers, you will yourself not to drool over the sight of his long and thick cock, milky from the precum leaking from its tip.

Your hand moves on its own, wrapping around the base of his hard cock only to find that your hand was too small to wrap all the way around him. "Why didn't you tell me your dick was huge?."

"You want me to —fuck—" Theodore whines, cock twitching in your hand as it begged for you to move. "You want me to tell my best friend about the size of my cock?"

"Yeah?" You move your hands up, thumb running along his tip. "Biggest dick I've ever seen."

"You never told me you had —fuck, baby— never told me you had a perfect cunt either." Theodore moans, the sight in front of him feels like it came straight out of a porno. His best friend and her small hands playing with his cock, tits out with only her tiny skirt stopping him from fucking her into the mattress.

You giggle softly before leaning down to take him inside your mouth. "Fuck!" Theodore choked out, hips roughly thrusting into your mouth. He's too big for you to fit in entirely in your throat and he knows it. And he's too close to cumming in your mouth to keep you were you are.

His hand pulling your head up and away from his cock swiftly. His eyes are shut, head leaning back against your headboard as he breathes heavily.

Your eyes are teary when he opens his eyes back up, and he wills himself not to think about how it's the result of him fucking your face. Theodore brings you up to sit between his legs, kissing you desperately, groaning when he tastes himself on your lips.

Your hand goes back to grab at his length and he whines, pressing his face into your neck and squirms underneath your touch. "Wait, fuck—" his hand goes to stop you, brain going dead as you pumped his cock. "—fuck, fuck wait."

Theodore moves away from your touch, pressing your hand down onto your mattress as he heaves heavily. "Shit— Next time," he whines, "we can do all that next time," he murmurs against your neck, pulling his head away to look at you, he adds: "but I need to fuck you. Please, just let me fuck you. I'll do anything to feel your cunt and fill you up nice and full, please baby."

And when he pleads for you so nicely, who were you to deny him anything? He kisses you again, laying you down on your back, whispering soft thank you’s as he presses open mouth kisses down your body. Slender hands roaming around as he tries to map you out. It's only when Theodore flips your skirt up, ripping away your panties to give himself a full view of your throbbing pussy did you realize what he's about to do.

"Hey, I liked those!"

"I'll buy you more, baby." You're dripping in front of him and he think he might be losing his mind. "Need to eat you out first."

"Thought you wanted to fuck me," you whine, gasping softly when he slides his fingers over your pussy, "why can you play with —fuck."

You pout at him, not expecting him to slide his finger inside you while you talked. "Why can you— ah! —play with me when I can't play with you."

"Not playing baby, just stretching you out," he tells you with a soft smile, leaning over to kiss your pout away. "Not gonna fit unless we stretch you out."

" 's fine," you whimper, feeling him slip another finger in, fucking into you slowly. "it'll fit just fine."

"You sure?" He picks up his pace, long fingers reaching places your own never could. "Don't wanna hurt you."

" 's fine," you moan when he slips a third finger into your cunt, "don't care if it hurts, just wanna feel you."

Theodore pulls out, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you once more. Moving back up, Theodore grabs at a pillow, placing it beneath your lower back to elevate your cunt. Slowly, he guides his dick into you, gasping at the feeling of his thick head stretching you open.

"Fuck—" Theodore pushes in deeper, pausing when he feels you clenching impossibly tight around him "—your cunt's sucking me in so good."

The burn is delicious, his cock tearing you open from within, stretching you out to take him into you. "So full," you whine, pressing your head into your sheets as he slides in even deeper into you. " 's too much."

"I know, baby," he murmurs, rubbing slow circles onto your thighs, "just a little more, I know you can take it."

You whine pathetically, feeling him fuck the last few inches snuggly into you. "Ah!" He hasn't even moved and you're already breathless, feeling him in your stomach. “Fuck me, Theo. Fuck me nice and full.”

“You want me to fuck your small cunt nice and full?” Theodore pulls out entirely, leaving just his tip in your cunt before roughly thrusting back in, hands on your hips as he pounds into you. "I’ll fuck it nice and full for you, maybe even put a baby in you."

And when your pussy grips his cock at his words, Theodore drives into you even harder. “Put a baby in me, please.”

“Yeah? You want that?” He watches as your tits bounce with each harsh thrust. “You want to carry my baby? Have your pretty tits grow bigger? You want that?”

“Yes,” you cry out, eyes screwed shut, the pain of his cock splitting you open mixing with pleasure. “Yes, ah— want it.”

“Fuck—” Having just about enough, Theodore pushes your mini skirt up your stomach giving him a full view of how well he's fucking his thick cock into you. The mound of your pussy bulging as it makes room for his dick to spear into your cunt.

"See that baby? See how good your cunt’s at taking my cock?" He asks, his hand grabbing yours to press down below your navel. "See how good I'm fucking you?"

You can only moan, crying out his name when he presses your hand down onto the bulge in your stomach, pushing his own dick out of your pussy. "Feel how deep my cock is inside of you?"

“Gonna be so easy for me to breed you,” he murmurs, wrapping your legs around his waist to fuck himself even deeper into you. “Want me to breed you, baby? Hmm?”

You nod desperately, too cock drunk to speak. Jolting when Theodore presses a harsh finger to your clit, circling it as he fucked deeper into you. "Theo, I'm gonna—"

"I know baby," he says, his cock getting impossibly harder inside of you. He presses another finger onto your clit, rubbing tight circles as you squirm underneath him. "Fuck— you're pussy's so good. Need you to come on my cock."

Theodore leans down to kiss you, pushing his length even deeper into you. You moan into his mouth, fucking you through your orgasm, your legs trembling as you try to squeeze him in.

Theodore fucks your cum back into you harder and faster, chasing his own high. One quick glance at his cock coated with your cum, followed by the bulge in your tummy was sends has him rutting into your tight cunt, spilling his warm seed inside you.

Theodore thrusts a few more time just to savor the sight of you spread on his cock before finally pulling out of you. "Fuck Theo," you whined, his cum leaking out of you, making a mess all over your bedsheet. "Were you just never going to tell me your dick is huge?"

Theodore only smiles bashfully, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. "We're still on this?"

"You expect me to not be on this?" You say with a slight pout, Theodore only half paying attention to you as he grabbed a random shirt from the floor to wipe at you thighs. "It's almost like you don't even think of me as you best friend."

"Pretty sure best friends don't go around telling each other about how big their dick is, baby," he replies.

"Blaise can know about your dick size but I can't?" You murmur. "Talk about double standards."

Theodore pauses his movements, hand hovering over your spent pussy. "That fucker."

"Hmm?" You're curious now, confused as to why he was suddenly cursing out your friend. Never having been one to use curse words unless —well, unless he's fucking you.

"He told me that you liked guys who begged," he says with a slight front, going back to cleaning you up nonetheless.

"Is that why you begged to fuck me?"

"No, that was all me," he answers truthfully, ears tinging red in embarrassment,"just wanted to fuck you."

"And they say romance is dead," you say playfully before your eye zeroes into what's in Theodore's hand. "What about the whole breeding thing? And ‘s that my shirt?"

Theodore, freezes with his hands between your thighs, feeling you stare him down as he did so. Slowly, he unravels the shirt he'd use to wipe you clean only to realize that yes, that is your shirt.

"You ripped up my panties, messed up my skirt, tried to put a baby in me, and used my shirt to wipe up your cum," you say, frowning, "I'm never having sex with you again."

Theodore's quick to apologize, peppering your face with kisses, mumbling sorry over and over again. "I'll sneak you out of Oxford street, take my black card with you, how's that sound?"

— from bee: this is my first time writing smut be nice to me 😡