#and how much I would absolutely hate it if someone tried to force me to show more skin in public

[dfortrafalgar]

would you be interested in a more Platonic type fic? Like being good friends with Robin?

alternatively if it has to be romantic: Law being forced on a disaster of a date only to meet a super helpful (comic) bookshop employee and she starts seeming cute when he finds out she has similar interests? (Boy probably went into cardiac arrest at first when someone caught him not being broody)

hope this isn’t too much!

and you’re doing awesome!

thank you so much for your request, anon!!!! im actually going to use both of your ideas, but i started with the Law one because that hit seriously close to home. ive been on some absolute TRAVESTIES of dates in the past, and i needed to write law suffering through a similar fate or i'd die!!!!! I hope you enjoy, and pretty soon I'll post your platonic Robin request as well! I love writing platonic stories just as much as romantic ones <3

An Out.

Law x Fem Reader

Law made the mistake of letting his friends talk him into a first date… and now he desperately needs an out. Fast.

Warnings: an absolute disaster of a first date for our wonderful nerdy man. modern au, implied college setting, some mild slight suggestive language but nothing more than that

Trafalgar Law tried in vain to recount the series of events that led up to this very moment.

There was the dusty apartment floor discussion about how the med-student hadn’t gotten laid yet, which was followed by a raunchy comment about a girl in someone’s class, it was revealed that this girl was single (‘and ready to mingle’), and her number was forcibly input into Law’s phone.

For the week that followed, he was inundated with flirty texts from this girl he had never met in person.  He was forced to send her a picture of himself, mostly to get her to stop blowing up his texts every hour, and that was the next mistake in the line-up of unfortunate events.

Turned out she had a thing for facial hair.

Then, instead of getting pestered with general flirty messages, it was general flirty messages that were ramped up to a nine.  ‘I’d rip your clothes off if you give me the opportunity,’ kind of nine.

Law knew he was a virgin, but at least he wasn’t this desperate, nor did he have any inclination to be.  If anything, the texts he received from this stranger were making him want sex even less.

And yet… he was still pushed into this.

A date around downtown with this girl.  She clung to his arm, tried to loop her fingers into his, and yet had absolutely no interest in anything he had to say.  At all.

First red flag: she mentioned her ex.  Three times.  In four minutes.  Everything was about what he did wrong to upset her, no self-awareness to be found.  Second red flag: the clinginess.  Law hated public affection, but any attempts to urge her to give him space resulted in a childish pout and her arms caged around his, almost pulling him to the ground.  Third red flag: she couldn’t give two shits about Law, in any sense of the word.  She wouldn’t stop talking about herself.  Her looks, her clothes, her favorite music, her favorite shows to binge watch, her distaste for the area of the city they were in, her distaste for the lunch Law had [regretfully] paid for, her distaste for the speckled jeans he decided to wear…

He could feel the premature wrinkles forming in between his eyebrows the longer the date went on.  He was starting to wonder if he’d have to throw out the shirt he was wearing later.  It already reeked of the too-strong, powdery-scented perfume she bathed herself in.

“Where do you wanna go?” she suddenly asked, still tugging on his arm.

“I kinda want to stop by the bookstore before we leave,” he suggested, his feet already carrying him, and by extension, her, along the sidewalk to a small bookshop that had just recently opened.

“The bookstore?  What kinda guy brings a girl to a bookstore on a first date?!” she demanded, showing off yet another childish pout.  It wasn’t a good look on her.

‘A guy who knows this girl’s not getting a second date,’ he wished he could say.  Instead, all the snarky remarks stayed locked inside his weary brain, bouncing around like a caged lion desperate to escape.

The girl didn’t make any motions to ditch him to his nerdy reprieve, and instead followed on his heels as he pulled open the bookshop’s door, the familiar, calming scent of new books, fresh paper, and ink filling his nose.

“It smells gross in here,” the girl huffed.

Aaaand there went Law’s fleeting moment of peace.  Out the window.  Down fifteen stories and splattered on the pavement.  He needed to violently restrain the eyeroll that begged to appear.  His ocular nerves ached to be a dick in the pettiest way possible.  He inwardly hoped that by dragging this girl to the most unassuming bookshop would encourage her to leave, call a friend or get a cab to take her back to her home, but alas, she stayed glued to Law’s side like a lost dog.

She followed behind him as he blindly perused shelves of new and pre-owned books, Law’s feet subconsciously guiding him to the back of the store where he knew the comic books would be located.

If anything would turn this girl off for good, it had to be his love for all things superhero.  His comic book collection would dry her up like a dessert in a drought.  Or at least, it fucking better.

His eyes lit up as he approached the expansive comic shelf, immediately spotting the latest print of Sora: Warrior of the Sea- Volume 10.  It had finally been officially localized, and he had been saving some of his spending money for this very moment.  He eagerly grabbed the book from the shelf, thumbing through the pages.

“How old even are you?” jeered the girl by his side.  “Comic books are, like, little kid shit.”

“I’m five years old,” barked Law, refusing to look toward her as he continued to analyze the pages of his favorite series.

To the average onlooker, they both probably looked like complete jackasses towards one another.  And while Law was at least brave enough to admit that his behavior was certainly petty, he felt like he was warranted a Get Out Of Jerk Free card for all the painful hours of suffering through this atomic catastrophe of a date had put him through.

“Whatever, I’m going to find a bathroom,” the girl finally groaned, releasing his arm and trudging through the aisles of books toward the checkout counter to ask an employee where the bathrooms were located.

Law watched her go out of his peripheral vision, refusing to exhale a sigh of profound relief until she was completely out of his line of sight.  With shoulders that finally relaxed, free from the overbearing tension, he turned his focus back to the comic in his hands, continuing to thumb through the colorful pages of artwork.  He flipped the book around to examine the price, smiling at how reasonable it was.  He filled his arms with a few other comics from a series he had been meaning to pick up, and retreated toward the cash registers to buy his books.  The sooner he got his treat for this ordeal, the sooner he could get out of here, call this girl a taxi home, and spend the rest of his life as a willingly single comic book mega-nerd.

But reality wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily.

Not when the girl sitting behind the register thumbing through another copy of Sora Volume 10 was an absolute bombshell.

When she looked up at Law, her eyes quickly went wide.  She placed the book under the register counter and eagerly leaned forward, her hands supporting her over the counter.  “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice laced with worry.

Law cocked an eyebrow, confused.  “Yeah, why?”

“That girl you’re with is making you miserable.  You walked through the door looking like you wanted someone to grant you a mercy killing,” she huffed.  Her eyes were clearly concerned.  “Are you dating her?”

Law felt his guard dropping without even realizing it the longer he was in the presence of this cashier.  “My friends set me up on a date with her, but I’m having the absolute worst time of my life.”

The new girl’s own eyebrows angled downward in concern.  “Do you want an out?”

“A what?”

“An out,” she repeated.  “An excuse to get her to leave you alone.”  Time was running out.  At any moment, she could leave the bathroom.

Law frantically looked back and forth between the cashier and the small, short hallway that led to the single restroom.  With pleading, golden eyes, he silently mumbled, “Yes, please.”

The cashier kept her eyes on the bathroom door as she began unloading Law’s hands, spreading his books out on the counter to make it look like she was busy ringing out his purchase.  Law watched with an analytical gaze as she fumbled with his items, clearly buying time until the bathroom door opened.

He didn’t have time to ask what she was plotting.

The second the door cracked open, the man’s shirt collar was violently clenched in the cashier’s hands as she pulled him over the counter, smushing her lips into his.  Law’s fingers flexed in thin air as he froze, brain completely fried as he was frozen in this sudden kiss.

His first kiss.

“What the fuck?!” the girl screeched, exiting the bathroom in a frenzy as she booked it toward the heated exchange happening over the cash register.

The new girl pulled herself away from Law’s face, but only enough where she could display her best rendition of a weary, tired war-torn wife waiting on a cliffside for her husband to return.  “Baby, please just take me back!  My life isn’t complete without you!”  Her voice was cracking as she fake-wailed, her grip on Law’s shirt never faltering, not even once.  The few customers who also occupied the store turned to stare at the commotion, frazzled and befuddled.  “Nothing in life is as good as it was with you!  I’m in shambles!  You were the best sex I’ve ever had!”

It took a few moments for Law to catch on to the ruse.  As soon as he put the puzzle pieces together in his mind, however, he was grabbing the wrists of the cashier and bringing his lips back to hers, closing his eyes and trailing his arms up to grasp her face.  Completely disregarding the fact that they were still separated by the heavy check-out counter between their torsos.

“You were dating someone?!” snapped the original girl.  “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Law pulled away from the cashier’s lips, his own skin immediately feeling fifteen degrees colder from the loss of her contact.  “I wasn’t.  Until now.”

The new girl put her arm around Law’s shoulders from across the check-out counter, her deft fingers caressing his skin through his shirt.  “I’m sorry, but I’m taking him back, I can’t stand to be without him any longer!  The sight of him with another woman…” she made a show of clenching her chest, “makes me sick!”  She was damn good at this, in a way that almost made Law concerned.  The fact that she was pulling all of this out of nowhere, and the fact that her first course of action was this drastic, made Law’s heart flutter in his chest.

“Ugh, whatever.  This place sucks ass anyway.  I’m going home.”  She finally shouldered her bag and marched out of the shop, her feet stomping across the hardwood floor until the sound of the front door slamming closed finally made the cashier release her arm from Law’s shoulders.

And once again, the man was feeling oddly cold without the contact.  He glanced at her as she started ringing up his items for real.  “You’re… a good actor,” he blurted.

The girl hid her face in her arm with shame, an awkward laugh bubbling from her throat.  “I’m so sorry, I was trying to think of what to do to help you but when the door opened I panicked.”  Her eyes were focused on her work.  “I’ve been on some absolutely awful dates myself, so I understand.  Sometimes I’ve wished I could have Prince Charming swoop me out of the movie theater where a guy made fun of me for my interests the entire run-time.”

His jaw went slack.  “Are you serious?”

“Deadass,” she replied, quick as a whip.  “Insisted on holding my hand the entire time.  I think he was convinced that I had taken him to see a horror movie because I wanted to act scared in front of him, but his hand was so clammy and sticky the whole time.  And not in the endearing ‘Aww he’s shy!’ kind of way.”

Law wished at that moment that he had more charisma.  He was sure one of his friends would be able to pull a witty, flirty quip from their asses like it was nothing, but Law’s personal dictionary of flattery was nonexistent as it was.  He balked while he listened to the cashier who just took his breath away lamenting about her own poor experiences with dating, and he was sure that her example in this moment was only one of many.  Instead of continuing the conversation, his mind blanked.  He stated, more like whispered, “That was my first kiss.”

The girl’s hands stopped scanning his books halfway through.  Her wide eyes darted up to Law’s, her jaw slack.  “It… It was?”

“Yeah.”

Her hands flew to cover her mouth, eyes wide with shock.  “Oh my god… oh my god, I’m so sorry!”  She dropped her head onto the counter, covering her despair with both of her arms now.  “First kisses are supposed to be special and I just took your’s away from you…”

Law shocked himself by smiling at the weary display in front of him.  “If it makes you feel any better, that was far better than the date I was on.  But I’m sure you already knew that.”

She picked her head up, a trembling hand grabbing one of his last books to scan.  Her eyes nervously darted back and forth as she silently worked, once in a while sucking her bottom lip in with her teeth before releasing the flesh.  She was clearly lost in an intense inner turmoil.

“It’s really alright,” Law muttered, now growing shy himself.  He was just now realizing the gravity of what had happened… and how truly adorable this girl was.

She tapped a few buttons on her cash register before finally making eye contact with him again.  “You are a pretty good kisser… you’re really sure you’ve never done that before?”

He affirmatively shook his head.  “Never.  I’ve never been… popular with the dating scene,” he muttered.  “Hence this awful set-up date.”

The cashier’s eyes went wide again momentarily.  “That’s kind of surprising to me… I would think someone like you would get any girl you wanted.”

Law backpedaled.  “What does that mean?”

She pulled his total up on the small screen that faced him.  She was turning away from him as if to hide her face, her entire expression teeming with a child-like embarrassment.  “Well, you’re crazy hot, for starters.  And you like Sora, clearly.”

Law felt a smirk emerge on his lips.  “Is Sora one of your only qualifiers for a decent partner?”  He began to rekindle some of the confidence he had lost throughout the day.  The longer he spent in this girl’s presence, the more he felt the tension in his body leaving.

She grinned, the stress in her shoulders from her own actions finally releasing.  “Only guys with fluffy black hair and golden eyes that read Sora, if you want my honest answer.”

Now this was flirting.  Law had to admit, he was pretty pleased with this sudden turn of events.  The atmosphere this girl radiated was immensely calming, allowing him to chip through his reinforced walls just enough to feel like a somewhat normal person.  He started to wonder if she could break through his barriers even more.

“What’s your name?” he finally asked, taking out his credit card and swiping it through the machine to finally cash out his order.

The girl excitedly revealed her name.  “And your’s?”

“Trafalgar Law,” he replied.  “I go to North Blue University for med school in the next town over.”

“No shit, so do I!  I’m getting a worker's license there,” she added, her expression shifting from one of moderate happiness to one of excitement.  “I doubt we’ve had any of the same classes, but we should hang out sometime!  Get coffee, maybe talk about Sora…”  Her voice trailed off, her eyes growing soft.  “Unless you’ve been completely turned off to dating after what you’ve clearly just been through.”

Law took a few moments to ponder over her words, watching as the receipts for his purchase slowly emerged from the thermal printer.  “I think I can make an exception this time.”

The smile that broke out on the girl’s face may as well have blinded him.  She was truly dazzling, even in her ratty-looking employee apron and an oversized T-shirt accounting for her work attire.

Law placed his new assortment of books into his own bag, the girl snatching his receipts from the printer and stashing one of the copies in the drawer below the counter.  When he looked back up, she was holding out his second receipt, folded in half.  She gave him a fond smile when he took it.

“I hope you’re able to relax later today, and enjoy your books!” she called, waving to Law as he exited the store.

Once outside again, the air felt clearer now that he was alone.  The day was still young, hardly a cloud in the sky and a pleasant breeze coasting through the city.  He looped his bag over his shoulder and opened the receipt, peering at what was written on the backside.

Call me for Sora… and for just me ;) <3 1125-354-9854

[marzipanandminutiae]

Of course, the burkini ban is messed up on grounds of religious freedom and racial discrimination. But also

Under any other circumstances, people would be HORRIFIED at a government mandate that women have to show a certain amount of skin. Like. That’s fucking dystopian, and the absolute opposite of feminism. If a government tried to pass a law that all women had to wear tube tops and miniskirts to go outside, people would rightfully be up in arms demanding blood

But because it’s targeting a marginalized religious group, many folks are lauding the blatant forced sexualization of women. Appalling

(apparently the ban also outlaws things like sun – protecting bathing suits if they cover too much skin. Which like. Yes, let’s give everyone skin cancer just so we can spite a religion we’ve decided to hate. Sounds like a good plan </s>)

[jellyfishrnice]

Yandere! Rich suitor idea

Hear me out-

The rich suitor that your parents have in mind for you to marry once you turn 30, the guy who's parents your parents are best friends and how they've been imagining their offspring getting married for decades! And how you absolutely can't stand your unofficial fiance!

Of course, he couldn't stand you either. All your lives grown up together with both your parents insinuating that you two will carry on their names. Each year you two would be sent off to some exotic vacation (your parents loosely supervising) and each year you both failed to hold a conversation without fighting. The pressure was always too much for you, you hated the idea of being tied down to some guy only your parents liked. And no matter how beautiful the boy was, he simply wasn't your type. He was too pretty, too spoiled, too prissy with his blonde hair tied in a ponytail and his stupid eyebrow piercing that made no sense considering his personality.

The guy you were supposed to marry felt the same, he couldn't understand what his parents saw in you. You were too wild, he couldn't imagine trying to carry on a family with how you barely even wanted to do school work. He didn't even consider ugly just so... Weird! With your weird, odd sense of fashion and refusal to think about your future , you were definitely not his type. You two hated each other.

Until the summer you two turned 21. The yearly vacation y'all took started off like any other. With both you dreading the sight of each other. But that changed very quickly once he saw you. This was the first year you two were alone, and maybe it was the fresh alcohol in your systems or the soft lights in whatever high class restaurant you were in, something clicked in your suitor's brain.

Turns out a year (or a couple) can really change the way you see someone. Whether he knew or not he started to admire the way you refused to comply with the strict set of rules set by the high class society you two lived in, and how you didn't care what anyone else thought of your peculiar way of self expression. It was admirable he had to admit.

And the night you two shared an accidental drunken kiss, it made the hair on his arms stand up, it made his face flush red(which he blamed on the liquor), and it made his heart pound in a way he never thought possible.

Every bone chilling reaction was forced out of him and it made his skin light on fire. After that night, he only wanted more to come out of your relationship.

But, the attraction was simply one sided.

You still only saw the same prissy boy. He still refused to look at things from more than one perspective, he still poked fun at your style of clothes, he still refused to say thank you to whatever person who was serving him!

He was everything you hated all wrapped up in one ball of a man.

And when he dropped the idea of getting married the next morning while you were still recovering from your hangover, you almost vomited.

-

"Ew! What the fuck are you talking about?!" You yelled while almost dropping the mug you had in your hand. The guy was just insulting you yesterday like he always does and now he's talking about marriage?

"You act as though marrying me is the worst thing possible." Andrew sighed while sipping on a glass of orange juice. He looked out the nearby window onto the private beach of the resort while leaning on the nearby wall. It didn't show but your response clearly hurt him just a bit.

"'Cuz it is." You groaned in frustration while sitting down on the living room couch. The guy you hate proposing is definitely not helping with your pounding headache.

You took a sip out of the mug of coffee and tried to rub away the ache from your temples. Why now of all times to propose? You two had at least 5 more years of freedom before yours and his parents would put their foot down and set a date for you two to sign the wedding papers.

"I mean- why not now? Its be better sooner than later, it would be like ripping off a bandaid-"

"Hell no." You sighed and set down your mug on the coffee table next to you and dropped your head onto a pillow. How were you going to deal with this?

"Anyway," you paused trying to gather your words, "don't you hate me? Why would you want to tie the knot so soon? I mean, you're an attractive guy right? Why don't you try out other options before having to-"

"I don't want other options."

You lifted your head and stared at Andrew for a second. The pink dusting his fair cheeks and avoidance of eye contact was all you needed to know.

You looked away from his face and stared at the wall behind him. Your head hurts even more than when you had woken up.

"I'm leaving."

"What?"

"I said I'm leaving." You hauled yourself off the couch and into your room. You could hear Andrews faint footsteps and even more of his questions but ignored it. You packed your backpack, only the necessities and a small bag of seashells. You were getting on the next plane and heading back home. Or wherever you could land first.

You were not staying here. You refused to marry. Not yet at least.

But as you try and open the door to leave, a large hand slams it shut before you can completely open it.

"Andrew. What the hell are you doing."

"You are not leaving." Andrew says while placing his other hand against the door, caging you.

You never realized how muscular Andrew was before this moment.

"Yes, I am. Now let go of the door-"

"No." He says in a much firmer tone.

It dawns on you that you're on a private beach with no one to hear you yell for help. You see one of his hands leave the door and for a second you think he's come back to his senses and stopped whatever crazy shit he was thinking- but instead he snaked his hand around your waist and lays his forehead on your shoulder.

"You're not leaving."

-

HEHEHEHE JUST A THOUGHT THOOO

Not proof read forgive me 😔

[vixstarria]

Intimacy

Hello friends, have some soft Act 2 Astarion.  

Astarion’s struggle with sex and intimacy. Connected with my other fics but is a standalone, per usual. 

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, soft Astarion 

Hurt/comfort, some fluff if you squint, love, angst, mutual pining, Act 2 spoilers, some fairly softcore smut 

Approximately 1,600 words. 

“I have no idea what we’re doing,” he told you. You’d replayed that conversation over and over countless times in your mind, since.  

You had no idea what you were doing either. Oh, navigating an ordinary relationship was simple enough, and you’d had your fair share of those – even if they’d all ended in disappointment at best, so far. Being with someone who’d just escaped 200 years of abuse, however... That was something new.  

“I don't think I want you to think of me in terms of sex.” 

Well that was a fuck-up. He was walking sex. ...Most likely due to sheer force of habit, so necessary for survival over all those years, but still.  

“I love you.” 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...  

You were in over your head too. Completely. Hopelessly. In love with this catastrophe of a man.  

What were you to do with him now?  

Wait for him to take the lead in every physical interaction? It wasn’t in your nature to be so passive. He knew this. And you were sure he would love to be treated like spurned glass all of a sudden.  

Continue as you were? Even though now all you could think about was whether a touch might bring up a repulsive memory? Assume that you could singlehandedly overwrite centuries of disgust and loathing, overnight? How presumptuous and overbearing that would have been. 

Communicate? Ask? Listen? Sure. Absolutely. You did. Or tried, anyway. You were about as good at talking about these things as he was. And you didn’t really trust him to be completely honest at this point. Whether with you or his own self.  

And so you explored. Slowly, cautiously and attentively.

 

The most innocent touches seemed to bring him an inordinate amount of joy. You weren’t surprised.  

Passing him a vial of poison for his weapons and letting your fingers brush and caress one another’s, briefly. Wordlessly running a stray hand along his waist and planting a quick kiss under his ear while you walked past him as he stood talking with someone. Lingering with your foreheads or noses touching lightly after a kiss.

 

He leaped at any opportunity to massage your sore muscles or help you apply a salve, and you let him. It seemed he wanted to take care of you, and was working out all the ways how.  

He still pleasured you in different ways, at times.  

“You don’t have to...” 

“I want to,” he said. 

He just chose to keep his own pants on, now. You weren’t sure about his motivations. Could it be guilt? Or a misguided sense of self-worth? Did he still think this is all he was good for? Or, maybe you were completely overthinking it, and he was still just desperately horny, even if taking a step back. He was more present than before though, you could tell that much. 

You considered his reactions to other forms of touch, careful not to make your observation obvious. 

He hated being scratched. The entire area of his back covered in scars was off-limits for anything but embraces. He enjoyed playful bites, both giving and receiving. And more than anything, he loved holding you close, feeling as much of your body at once as possible, basking in its warmth.  

In turn, you were more than happy to wrap yourself around him when you could. 

“Why do you even like this?” he asked, apprehensive about it at first. “You don’t need to pretend for my sake. I can’t give you any warmth.” 

“I can give you mine,” you said, simply. “Besides, you obviously don’t remember what it’s like to lie in a puddle of sweat with someone who runs hot. This is a nice change.” you added after a moment of contemplation.  

You meant what you said, but you were dying to drag him into a hot bath, just to know what it would feel like for him to be warmed through. Maybe you’d get the chance once you got to Baldur’s Gate.

 

There happened to be a private room available at Last Light Inn that night. The group unanimously agreed that you and Astarion would take it, while the rest of your companions bunked in the common. 

“For Shar’s sake, piss off, none of us want to see or hear you two,” were the exact words of their blessing, delivered by Shadowheart. Karlach sanctified it by throwing a (deftly dodged) half-eaten apple at Astarion’s head.  

“Especially not hear!”

 

“I know this may come as a shock, but I’m actually not too fond of beds,” he said. 

“New memories, Astarion,” you shook your head. “Beds are non-negotiable. I wasn’t too fond of rutting in the dirt either.” 

“I’ll never grow tired of how poetic you are,” he smiled, unceremoniously throwing his gear on the floor. “New memories, you say?” 

A while later, you were straddling Astarion’s hips as he sat shirtless on the edge of the bed. 

“You know, you never did tell me what you like,” you sighed, your fingers in his hair as he kissed your neck.   

“Oh, what does anyone like? It’s all the same in the end,” he said, running his hands along your thighs. 

“That’s not true,” you murmured in his ear. “I can show you some things that are pretty unique to you right now,” you said and ran the tip of your tongue along the lower inner edge of his ear, making him shudder and let out a small moan.  

“You little devil, when did you figure that out?” he breathed.  

“When I happened to brush your ear a while back, like this,” you giggled, repeating the hand movement on his other ear, making him catch his breath slightly again, “and you just about started purring.” 

He just chuckled in response. 

“So what other secrets are you hiding?” you purred, kissing around his ear. “I might just need to kiss and caress every inch of your body to find out.” 

"Sounds like a terrible chore,” he said, falling back onto the bed and pulling you with him. “You don’t want to do that.” 

“Shut up and let me cherish you.” 

You kissed down along one side his neck, slowly, taking your time, pausing to lightly lick or nibble on any spot that made him hitch his breath. He was putty in your hands by the time you reached his collarbone. 

“Just don’t go any lower,” he said breathlessly. 

You hummed your agreement. You couldn’t handle going any lower yourself – you were completely intoxicated with the scent of his skin and the sound of his sighs of pleasure, if you went any lower, you would keep going, and you didn’t think it was a day for that yet.  

You continued up the other side of his neck instead.  

You hesitated for a moment before your lips reached the bite marks left by Cazador, but Astarion made no indication that he didn’t want you to keep going, and so you continued. He let out a soft whimper as your lips brushed the scars. 

“No?” you pulled back slightly, your hot breath still on his skin. He was lying with his eyes shut, head thrown back, neck completely exposed to you. 

“Yes...” he whispered, hoarsely. “Very yes... Softly...” 

You continued, lingering with your lips on the scars, as his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, snapping them against his own and grinding you against an unmistakable erection. 

“I want you to make those marks your own... Yours and no one else’s...” he rasped. 

This is probably a mistake, you thought, but you could barely help yourself as you moaned into his neck and ran your tongue over the scars, making him growl and grind you into himself harder. The friction, the knowledge that he wanted it too was driving you mad.  

“I’m going to come if you don’t stop that,” you begged. 

“Go ahead,” he groaned. 

“Not without you.” 

Something in the energy changed then, and you lifted yourself off him, sitting up. Astarion stayed on his back a moment longer, before exhaling and also raising himself into a sitting position. You were still on his lap, facing him.  

“Listen,” he took your face in both hands, looking into your eyes intensely. “I want you so fucking bad, it hurts. I want to tear your clothes off and ravage you until you’re speaking in tongues. I do.” His voice was hoarse. He paused, before continuing. “But even more than that, I want to remember this, remember you, and not have any of the dirt from my past mixed into it. It’s difficult enough to keep it at bay as it is.” His eyes teared up at that. “And right now, for now, this is the only way I know how to do that.”  

“I’m sorry.” Tears sprang from your eyes. 

“No, you sweet idiot, you haven’t done anything wrong. I love you.” He gathered you in his arms, kissing away your tears as his own started to roll down. He sighed. “Great, now no one is coming, and everyone is crying.” 

You both burst out laughing as soon as those words were out of his mouth.  

You held each other a while longer, him stroking your back, before you broke the silence. 

“So the bite scars are pretty erogenous then?” 

“Extremely. Use that knowledge at your own risk and peril, darling.” 

He lifted your chin for a kiss. 

“Shall we go piss everyone off for a while, maybe steal Lae’zel’s boots, then come back here for more ‘memories’?” he asked.  

“Sounds childish and dangerous. I’m in.” 

You needed to clear your head too.  

Maybe tomorrow would be the day one of you would get closer to knowing what it was you were doing, and tell the other. Until then, at least you were in it together. 

~~~~~ 

The “I love you” is not canon for Act 2, but it is my headcanon, damnit.  

Like what you just read? Huzzah, there’s more! - Series master list

Next in series - Communication

AO3

[screeching-bunny]

Yandere! Concubine Harem

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Many people would call you crazy or insane but you didn’t care. You absolutely hated your life and the god forsaken family you were born into. If you could choose, you would have been born into a lesser family. It wasn’t always like this, in fact when you were younger you were last in line for the throne. It was due to the sabotage of greedy and jealous mothers that got all your half siblings and full blooded siblings murdered. Unfortunately, that meant that you were forced into the position of being the next heir and eventually the new ruler.

You could remember the moment you became heir, you were immediately bombarded with people trying to curry up your favor. You honestly hated it, everyone just felt superficial and it didn’t help that as you grew, so did your power. Even your childhood friends were not immune to this. Imagine your shock when your closest friend got up on one knee and asked for the chance to court you. Then your classmate, then your former brother’s friend, and etc.

You had barely even had a concept of what love was. From a very young age your mother was murdered and your father hardly ever paid that much attention to you as well. You were mostly alone in your own little world and you absolutely loved that. People always just seemed so annoying to you that you did the bare minimum in communicating with others.

You tried to remain single as long as possible but your father did not agree with this decision of yours. He’s always seen relationships and marriage as a way to get more influence from around the world. So at the age of twenty, you were officially given a concubine, a foreign princess from the East. She was clingy and whenever you talked to other people she seemed to always want to monopolize your attention. This behavior only seemed to get worse when your father caused you to take in concubines to gain various alliances.

Within your harem there was competition daily. Sons of generals who tried to show off with their strengths, princesses who tried to get your attention with their singing abilities, princes who would try to show off their archery, scholars who showed off their intelligence, etc. The list goes on and on. There was so much jealousy in your harem that it was unbelievable. It also didn’t help that everyone was always trying to kill each other. You were so sick and tired of it. All you wanted was some peace and quiet.

There were daily assassination attempts on concubines, poised drinks to make someone infertile, constant fake crying so that you could favor someone, and etc. Every single time you take in a new concubine you could always feel them seething but you always ignored it. You didn’t know why they loved you so much, hell you even told them if they ever wanted a divorce you would give it to them. Yet, no one has ever left willingly. It was as if they looked up to you as a god or something it was just so strange.

You’re favored concubines were of course, always thrilled to have your attention on them. They were usually the ones who got to sleep with you at night. Seems as a privilege as only the most loved got to do that. You, however, had to be careful sometimes because unwanted sexual advances could happen anytime in the bedroom.

If you feel in a particularly good mood that day however, you may even let one of them bathe with you. “Your majesty, your skin is silky smooth. I wish to do this with you forever. No words can express how I feel and how much I love you. Won’t you allow me to be your first husband?” Yeah, this was basically how most of your conversations went. Everyone wanted to have the first slot at being your husband or wife. It was the ultimate showcase to prove you loved them the most and was a definite power trip for those in the harem.

Going to bed everyday was like a minefield. You just don’t know who’s going to show up in your chambers. Most of the time it’s one of your concubines, that you allowed to sleep with you for the night, in provocative attire. “Your majesty, I’ve been feeling a little lonely lately. Won’t you please pay some attention to me?” It’s honestly crazy how there is no limit of what these guys wouldn’t do for you. They just seem so overly infatuated and obsessive.

No matter what you did to them, they would always seem to look at you with love and admiration. You could basically insult all of them and they would accept it with a ‘thank you’. Nothing you did, could ever make them hate you.

Bullying was an extreme issue in your harem. No matter where you went there were always green tea bitches, white lotuses, and cunning foxes trying to bring someone down in your eyes. It’s even worse if they're new, having barely any awareness of what is happening, they definitely need to be more careful. No matter where you go at least three of them are stuck to your side. You’re alone time is basically nonexistent and extinct.

With teary eyes one of your concubines shout, “My lord, please help me! I’m being bullied by the others in the harem!” If you were being honest, you absolutely did not care about what was going on and one hundred percent knew that she was just using a manipulation tactic. However, to avoid the incoming headache you begin to console her and tell her that you’ll have a talk with everyone. You then decide to give her what she wanted and guide her towards your bedroom chambers. As you both leave she quickly looks at the faces of the others and sticks her tounge out. There was a look of absolute rage on their faces and with that they all had the same unanimous thought in their head.

“I’m totally going to get that bitch back for this!!!”

Pt.2

[mockerycrow]

HELLO the biggest congrats on 4k, you absolutely deserve that and so many more!!!

Could I see a female!reader x Ghost with the prompt:“I had a nightmare . . . can I stay with you tonight?”

TY and yet again, congratulations 🤍🤍🤍

REASSURANCE (Ghost x Fem!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

authors note; thank you so much anon <3 i hope you enjoy!

[WARNINGS; not proofread (like most of my fics), silent panic attack + light dissociation, implied you’ve never seen his face, hurt/comfort.]

You know Ghost has nightmares—everyone knows Ghost has nightmares. No one really wants to talk about it because he doesn’t, but everyone has seen the man up at ungodly hours of the night, or perhaps beating the absolute shit out of a punching bag at the on-base gym.

No one except for Price knows what Ghost’s been through, but no one really questions him. It’s unrealistic to think Ghost is the only one waking up due to their dreams—even Price does on the occasion. What Ghost doesn’t do is ask for help.

You had a weird gut feeling about tonight; you weren’t really restless, but you weren’t tired. Every time you laid down to try to get some sleep, your eyelids would slowly open back up. You tried multiple methods; white noise, thinking about nothing, thinking about a story, taking a sleep remedy—nothing.

You had a weird tightness in your stomach that you couldn’t shake. It’s no big deal, you’ve had several nights like this. Nights where you stay up, half expecting something to happen. You aren’t sure if its the military-esque anxiety flaring up, expecting an attack of some sort or if it’s just one of those nights.

You’re laying in bed, trying to think of what you have to do tomorrow. Might as well try to think of something useful, right? Let’s see, you have to do morning training and then you have to eat, brief with price, it’s your turn to help the armourer—the weapons master, you like to say to piss them off—and you also have to do paperwork.

A very tame evening, you think, avoiding the Q word everyone oh so desperately hates; including yourself. Because the second you say it, you’re going to be called by Laswell, or General Shepherd, or some other CIA federal agent bureaucrat about some fucking thing that’s happening in the god forsaken world that only, and only task force 141 can handle—

—Someone knocks on your door, breaking your disorganized thoughts. Your eyebrows furrow; no one should be up, maybe Price is, or Ghost. Did you forget some paperwork? You sit up, slip your slides on your feet, and you walk to the door. You unlock the door and open it, wincing from the bright light of the hallway pouring in, and you’re met with the large figure of Ghost.

You blink, unsurprised. “Hey.” You utter. “Did I wake you?” God, Ghost sounds rough. It sounds like he garbled glass—er, maybe that isn’t the nicest way to describe one of your superiors voices right now. It’s clear he just woke up. You shake your head in response, stepping aside. “Here, come in. It’s bright.”

Ghost silently obeys, stepping inside of your room. You close the door and head over to your desk. You feel around in the darkness until you feel your lamp and you click a button, turning it on, illuminating the room just enough for you to see Ghost. He’s wearing a pair of dark grey sweatpants with one of his black, long-sleeve compression tops to go with it.

He’s wearing a basic black balaclava without the iconic skull, but.. His eyes are different. Distant and weary, cautious—panicked almost. Your eyebrows furrow together as his broad shoulders are tense, fists clenched.

“Ghost..” You call softly. He seems far away—he needs your help. “Ghost.” You say more insistently and louder, noticing the way his chest is barely moving. “Ghost, hey, can y’hear me? You need to take a breath..” You murmur, slowly approaching him.

He’s frozen but you see how his eyes flicker towards you, taking a moment realize where he is. You offer a soft smile you always show him and you nod. “There you are, big guy. Can I touch you?” You make sure to ask because you never know; a soldier during a flashback, touching them? That can be fatal—you trust Ghost as you don’t think he would ever hurt you, but you never know a person.

It takes him a moment to nod, which makes you promptly and gently grab his wrists. You gently guide him to your bed, and you sit him down. You’re nervous—you’re about to calm him down in one of the only ways you know how to, but you’re worried about the consequences you’ll receive afterwards. Oh well, you don’t care, not when Ghost’s eyes are as unfocused as they are.

The bed dips under his weight and you gently spread his legs, standing between them. You grab his arms; they’re deadweight, but his eyes flicker some recognition, allowing you to guide his arms around your waist. You guide his head to lay against your stomach, your hands cradling his masked jaw and the back of his neck.

Ghost takes in a harsh, shuddery breath which makes you hum in approval. “There you go, Ghost. Breathe, you’re alright.” You say in a mellow manner, your thumb brushing over his masked cheek. Ghost takes in another harsh breath as his arms tighten around you. You continue to try to ground him, talking and praising him for his efforts to stay calm. You know he isn’t in the right mind, but you’re still shocked he’s allowed you to touch him for as long as you have.

Something in your gut unravels as Ghost pulls his head away ever so slightly, ripping his mask off and throws it away like it was constricting his breathing. He buries the side of his face back into your stomach, taking you by surprise. Your met with his blonde hair in the low light, your heart stuttering.

You hesitate only for a moment before you bury a hand in his hair on the back of his head, your other hand returning to his jaw, your heart hammering as you note he has stubble as well as something on his skin, like deep scar tissue.

Ghost lets out a noise which you quickly hum in response. “It’s okay, let it out.. Won’t tell anyone about this, okay?” You assure him, causing another noise to escape him, almost like a laugh. “Kinda hard t’do that when a pretty girl is comfortin’ you.” He croaks, his voice broken—both his voice and sentence making your brain short circuit. You laugh in return, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Shush,” You murmur. “Just relax.”

Ghost nods against your stomach, shakily exhaling. You stay like that for a while; neither of you are sure for how long, and neither of you care. You’re enjoying the rare vulnerability Ghost is displaying, and he’s enjoying the grounding touch you’re currently providing him. The silence is comforting as you comb your fingers through his hair, and you enjoy the weight of his head and his arms.

“I had a nightmare…” Ghost utters. You hold your breath as he looks up at you, and oh god, he’s hot. “..Can I stay with you tonight?” You’re mesmerized by the way his nose is curved—clearly has been broken a couple of times and wasn’t reset right—by the way his eyebrows are furrowed, his big, beautiful brown eyes.. You nearly forget to respond. “Yes,” You push out, resisting the urge to reach up and rub the tension between his brows. “Always.”

[lostyesterday]

I’ve been thinking about disabled protagonists in Star Trek recently, which got me thinking about Seven of Nine. It’s interesting because I’m almost certain the writers of Voyager did not intend to write a disabled character, but they ended up accidentally writing one anyway, and one whose arc I find surprisingly compelling as a disabled person myself. Seven is dependent on electronic devices both inside her body and external to it in order to survive and she requires regular medical treatment and specialized adaptations to her environment in order to function. She is absolutely canonically disabled (as are all the other ex-Borg in Star Trek), even if the writers probably weren’t aware of that. The major reason that I think Seven’s arc resonates with me so much is because it reflects a deep tension between independence and dependence that is a fundamental and complex part of so many disabled people’s lives.

To be disabled is to be deeply aware at all times of your own dependence on external things (such as wheelchairs, canes, medications, etc.) and other people. At the same time, to be disabled is to also be deeply aware of the societal standards of independence and self-sufficiency you are constantly failing to live up to. You cannot do things that people are “supposed” to be able to do independently. You need help for basic tasks, and you have no choice but to trust that these external supports you are dependent on will not suddenly disappear, causing you to be unable to participate in society at all. It’s difficult to express to someone who hasn’t experienced it how much being disabled forces someone to consider their own level of dependence and independence constantly, how it becomes a deep part of one’s identity and can often be a source of trauma.

Seven’s arc on Voyager is often focused on the nature of individuality, but it is interesting how often “individuality” becomes a stand-in for independence. Seven’s disability makes her deeply dependent on the crew and resources of Voyager for survival. She could theoretically leave and use her own skills to do maintenance on her implants and install an alcove somewhere to keep herself functioning, but it would be a great risk, and her safety would be constantly in doubt. At the same time, Seven hates this dependence. She tries to rely on other people as little as possible, hating her need for the Doctor to diagnose issues with her implants and refusing to ask for help until she has no other choice. She hates this dependence because she sees it as challenging her ability to become a complete “individual” who is able to make her own autonomous choices. She hates this dependence because it forces her to rely on other people who could at any time abandon her or abuse their power over her.

So it’s far less frightening to pretend this dependence doesn’t exist, to hide it even from herself. Seven’s arrogance in her own abilities, her focus on her intellect and vast knowledge and superior physical abilities are in many ways genuine, especially early on. But at what point does this confidence in her own abilities – this reassurance that she is smart enough and strong enough to control her own destiny and be a true individual – become a coping mechanism to deal with the reality of her dependence on objects and people outside of her direct control?

Seven is told often by members of the Voyager crew that being an individual who makes her own choices and decisions is what she should strive for. And at the same time, those same people often exert control over her, attempting to restrict her autonomy. Janeway or the Doctor tell her that they know better than her what her needs are – that being an individual only goes so far. Seven’s anger at this contradiction is one of my favorite parts of her character, partially because it captures a similar feeling of anger deep inside me when I think about the ways society constantly pressures disabled people to maintain standards of independence impossible to live up to while at the same time deeply restricting our autonomy and freedom.

In the episode “Imperfection”, Seven says that what she wants most is to be useful. To be useful is to be a valuable part of society – someone who is self-sufficient and talented and certainly not deeply dependent on other people for basic survival. To be disabled is to have society constantly demand that you be useful, that you be independent and strong and never let your disabilities limit you. And at the same time, to be disabled is to discover over and over that you can never be that fully autonomous, fully functional human being seen as ideal in society. No matter what you do – no matter how far you run from the truth – it’s an impossible reality to escape.

[thebucketpail]

A little blurb based on this thought that I had

When You Accidentally Kill a Clown pt. 1

Pt. 2 Ao3

This is not ideal. Danny thought deftly as he stared in shock at the absolutely massive problem he had just created for himself. He blinked slowly, trying to bring his brain back to speed. Definitely not Ideal.

Not even one week in Gotham, that was all it took to make such a big mess, thank you very much Fenton Luck. Danny had been accepted into Gotham U, having qualified for practically a full ride scholarship, and started next week. He had been in town to get settled for about three days when he was walking back to his apartment from a nearby Batburger.

Unfortunately a certain clown mistook him for a Wayne and well… yeah, he needed help with this.

“Hey Danny what’s up?” Sam’s voice rang as the call finally connected.

“Sam I think I have a problem,”

“What? Your roommate’s too Hot?΅ she joked

“No- no it's not my roommate-” he squeaked out. Shit how would he explain this? Logically Sam would be perfectly normal about it, probably even ecstatic, considering he did just-

“I killed the Joker” Danny blurted plowing past the sputtering noises coming from the other end of the line, “I didn’t mean to, i was just walking back to my apartment and he jumped out of an alley and tried to kidnap me, and you know I hate clowns and he caught me off guard, and well humans are a lot more squishy than ghosts and I think I used a bit too much force, but yeah.” he paused for a breath, “I killed the Joker, At least I think it's him. Ancients, Sam the bats are gonna kill me for this”

The tinny laughter he got in reply did nothing to calm Danny’s fraying nerves.

“Sam don’t laugh what am I meant to do?’’ He hissed

It took a few more moments for Sam to collect herself before she responded. “I’m sorry Danny, that's just so you of you to manage killing the Joker your first week in Gotham. Holdup, I'm gonna get Tuck real quick.”

As the sound of shuffling and footsteps filled the receiver, Danny tried calming down. Breathing deeply he walked over to examine the body. Yep, he thought, definitely the Joker, that pasty face and greasy green hair were hard to mistake, even for a non-Gothamite. Danny wrinkled his nose at the acrid stench rising from the smoking crater in the clown’s gut. You can never be too sure though, so Danny reached over to check for a pulse. Nothing.

The distant bickering died down as Tucker’s voice rang from Danny’s phone.

“Duuue, did you really?”

Danny took a shaky breath, raising the device back to his face, “Y-Yeah, he’s dead,” God please don’t let him come back to haunt me. ”Tuck what do I do?”

“Honestly man, I think you should just leave him, someone will find him eventually,” Tuck replied, the nonchalance oozing through his voice.

“I don’t know, I feel like we should tell someone or something-”

“Holy Shit!” Danny froze at the new voice coming from behind him. “Is that really him?” Red Hood asked incredulously. Ancients that's THE RED HOOD. Danny is so double dead.

“Tuck, I think someone found out,” he whispered into the mic, not taking his eyes off the imposing Figure that was the literal RED HOOD.

“It’s probably fine,” but Danny cut him off with a strangled yelp as Red Hood turned to face him Muscles tensing, shifting from shock to Ancients Danny hoped that rage wasn’t directed at him. That hope slowly dwindled as the vigilante stalked toward him, hand drifting toward the holster at his hip. Danny gulped.

“Did you do this?!” Hood seethed, and Yup Danny was going to die again today. What should he say? ‘Yes mr red hood sir I killed the Joker please don’t kill me’ no, no he should not say that. So he settled to let out a strangled squeak and a small nod.

Danny couldn’t breath as Hood crouched to assess the body. I didn’t breathe when Hood stared him down. No Danny didn’t even breathe when a distorted laugh rang through the air, or when Tucker and Sam anxiously screamed at Danny to respond.

“I Can’t believe the Fucker’s finally dead,” Hood breathed, kicking the dead clown for good measure. “What’s your Name Kid?”

Finally Danny let a relieved sigh escape his lips, he Probably wouldn’t die again tonight.

“Um, Danny?” he said tentatively, his voice rising toward the end making it sound more like a question. Hood just laughed more.

“Well Danny, do you like burgers? I've got to thank you somehow.” Dany was in shock. What. the actual. Hell. slowly he nodded because what else was he supposed to do when RED freaking HOOD offered him food for killing a literal terrorist on accident. “Good, I have to make a few quick calls but don’t go anywhere.” and he walked a few paces away, leaving Danny in Shock and confusion.

Slowly he raised the forgotten phone to his ear. “Uuuuh Guys…” he waited a moment for the yelling to die down before continuing, yeah, this might be interesting.

[rosepascal]

you don't belong || Joel Miller x reader

summary: You really like Joel, more than you've ever liked someone before. But the most important person in his life absolutely hates your guts and you have no idea what to do.

warnings: angst to fluff, swearing, break up/make up. possibly OOC Joel.

a/n: Ahhhh this is my first longer fic in a hot second!! I did this instead of writing a final paper so I hope you enjoy <33

taglist: @avengersfan25

Joel and Ellie were family. To anyone it’s easy to see just how much the two of them truly care for each other. They don’t say it. Instead they tell each other in other ways. Their close bond is why you so desperately wanted Ellie to like you.

She’s a tough kid with a smart mouth and you admired her for it. You didn’t expect to be welcomed into their small family dynamic easily. In fact you didn't plan on it at all. Months were spent dancing around each other, sending flirty looks and sharing quiet moments when time would allow it.

The kiss, the first time either of you did something about the growing attraction, was short and sweet and happened in the middle of the night in his living room. You wanted something with Joel and he wanted it too.

The day he asked you on an official date was the happiest day you’ve had in a long time. But there was one major problem. Ellie hated you. You tried to win her over, or at least get her to not glare at you the moment she saw you.

When Joel would see you in town with Ellie by his side he’d light up and for a moment you’d forget everything and smile back. Then your eyes drifted to the side and you saw the annoyed look on Ellies face. Her eyes refuse to even meet yours.

Then it all comes crashing down again.

A peace offering, that’s what you were offering. Walking up to his house knowing he wasn’t there was a risk. But you cared a lot about Joel and you didn’t want this tension between you and Ellie anymore. If you could show her that she could trust you, that you weren’t trying to hurt either of them. Then maybe things would get better.

“Joel’s not here.” She opens the door and stares you down. She glances at the small bowl in your hands filled with fresh strawberries that you sneaked from the gardens. Joel had told you strawberries were her favorite so you hoped this would help. She hasn't slammed the door in your face yet so that's progress.

“I know, these are for you.” You offer the bowl to her but she doesn’t take it.

“Why?”

“Can I come in?” You ask gently.

The hope slowly fading as she seems more closed off than ever. Without a word she rolls her eyes and leaves the door open. Walking away towards the living room. Stepping inside you place the bowl on the kitchen counter and find her reading a book.

“Ellie, I was hoping we could talk.” You sit on the couch near her, nails digging into your knees.

“About what?” At times like this she really does resemble Joel. That ice cold look from her makes you shiver.

“Look I know you don’t like me and I’m not trying to force anything between us.” You start, nerves taking over as she sets down her book. Her face unchanging as she listens to you.

“But I really care about Joel and you…I just. I don’t want things to be this weird between us.” She clenches her fist and snaps at you.

“If you really cared then you’d leave us alone!” She knows deep down that you haven’t done anything to hurt Joel but you could eventually.

You could show up and take all his attention away and leave him broken. You could want him to change himself to fit the town standards or ruin what the two of them have already built. It took a while for her to truly trust Tommy and Maria and they were Joel’s real family.

You aren’t.

“Ellie…” You try not to let her words hurt you but they do.

“We don’t need you okay? I don’t know you and I don’t want to know you.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve done anything to hurt you Ellie but-” You try but again she cuts you off. She's angry, shouting and finally letting it all out. Fear clouding her judgement as she hurls words that sting hard.

"I don’t care. Don’t pretend like you actually care about me when all you want is Joel.”

“That’s not true.” You say firmly.

“We’re happy without you, so just fuck off and leave us alone.” She storms upstairs and slams the door, shaking the whole house with it.

Pushing the palms of your hand to your eyes you try to suppress the tears. It’s clear that no matter what you do, she’ll never even tolerate you.

You love Joel but you can’t force yourself into their life. No matter how much it hurts. Ellie is everything to him. Wiping your eyes you stand up and open the door to leave.

“Baby?” You freeze at the sound of his voice.

Looking up you find Joel walking up to the door, a confused look on his face. He clocks the tears in your eyes immediately. His hands cup your face gently.

“I think we should break up.”

“What? Why?” He asks bewildered, hell just yesterday the two of you met for lunch and now you’re breaking up with him. You pull his hands away from your face but he grabs onto your wrists before you can leave.

“Baby please…Tell me what’s wrong.” His eyes go wide and fearful as you yank your hands away.

“I’m sorry Joel.” Every step you take away from Joel feels like a crack in your heart until it finally breaks.

Tears blur your vision as you slam the door to your horribly empty house. He’s the best thing that’s happened to you in a while and now it's gone. But it’s for the best, it’s for him. For Ellie.

At least that’s what you have to tell yourself to sleep that night. 

- - - -

Life without Joel has been hell. You desperately missed him and while you managed to go back to appearing like nothing ever happened, deep down you were miserable. You missed the small dates and sweet talks. Now instead of getting butterflies when you see him you get a gaping hole in your chest. 

Joel wasn’t doing much better. Not that he showed it though. At least not in a very clear way. He took longer patrols, more dangerous routes. Started spending more time in his house than he used to. Even snapping at people more than usual. He’s turned into even more of an asshole and it was driving Ellie crazy.

After the talk the two of you had, she calmed down a bit. Still convinced she did the right thing but things did feel off still. She knew that you leaving was the cause of his lashing out. She wanted to protect him but now it feels like she’s ruined it all.

Thank god for Maria putting them on patrol together, much to Joel's annoyance. He hates when she goes on Patrol even though she’s more capable than half the adults in town. The air that’s normally filled with questions is now just silence between the two. 

“Hey Joel, is all this about...You know.” She asks. Her grip tightening on her gun as she walks side by side with Joel.

“No.” His reply is short and his tone doesn’t leave much room for any follow up but she pushes anyway.

“Then what’s gotten up your ass lately?” Joel rolls his eyes and keeps walking. He’s not particularly interested in discussing his failed romances right now.

There’s a small trickle of guilt that builds in Ellie as she takes in the state of Joel. Sure to most people he doesn’t look any different, still the same stone faced guy they see everyday. But Ellie knows him much better than most people.

Something’s wrong and it has to do with you. She didn’t mean to snap at you, but the protectiveness she feels for Joel outweighed any guilt at the time. Ellie stops and sighs.

There’s a nearby broken down fence that she puts her weight against. Her and Joel aren’t good at these kinds of talks.

“Hear somethin?” Joel raises his gun slightly higher, eyes darting around for any signs of people.

”I uh..It’s my fault. That they ran away.” Joel slings his gun across his back and crosses his arms. Not fully grasping what she’s saying.

“I said some things and I think it’s why they stopped talking to you.” A sudden realization dawns on him and his arms fall to his sides.

“Now why’d you do that?” His voice is a lot calmer than she expected and honestly that’s scarier. She shifts from side to side as she tries to find the right words.

“I’ve had a lot of people in my life…” She starts. “And those people have left. Except for you.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere.” Joel says and she nods. She knows that. Really. He’s proven that in his own ways.

“Letting someone else in is hard and I didn’t want it all to. Disappear.” Joel’s silent, processing it all for a moment. Leaves crunch under his boots as he walks over to Ellie. Leaning against the old fence and stares out at Jackson.

The two of them don't really do sappy moments. They don't hold each other and cry and blubber on about how much they love each other, but that doesn't mean they don't know it. How much they mean to each other and how scary the idea of it going away can be.

“It don’t matter who comes through our lives ‘cause nothin’s gonna change between us. Ever. Alright?” His hand rests next to Ellies, a small smile on his face that she doesn’t see.

“That mean I’m stuck with your old ass forever?”

“More like I’m stuck with you, now let’s finish this damn thing so we can go eat.” Joel pushes off the fence and offers his hand out to Ellie who takes it.

Together they move a little faster and walk a little closer, ready to be done with patrol. 

- - - -

You didn’t expect the knock at your door on a random afternoon. Opening the door you’re met with the last person you expected to see. Ellie.

“Uh Hi,” You quickly step to the side to let her in, confused on why she’s here when she couldn’t even look at you before.

“Is something wrong?” Your brain jumps to the worst, if she was here willingly then something must have happened.

“No. I uh. I’m here to apologize.” She seems uncomfortable as she looks around your house. Here eyes settling on one of Joel’s jackets that you haven’t given back yet.

“I shouldn’t have said those things to you and…I didn’t mean it.”

“Ellie,” You say softly. Yes her words hurt but she’s just a kid.

“Joel means a lot to you and I get why you felt that I was, stepping into somewhere I didn’t belong.”

“But you do belong!” She says quickly. "You make him happy." You can tell she’s really trying and it makes you feel better about it all.

“I think we should start over, really get to know each other.” You offer knowing that things can’t become perfect overnight but the two of you can try.

“I’d like that.” Hesitantly you squeeze her shoulder in a loving way, hoping that you aren’t overstepping.

“Well now that we’re friends, I know a guy who’s been a real dick since you left.” You laugh and she does too. It’s a nice sound.

“I’ll take care of that, you alright to walk home?” She nods and you lead her to the door.

Ellie stops for a second before smiling back at you. As she walks off the dread of the last few weeks seems to have lifted. You don’t know what happened but you’re glad it did.

Wasting no time, you hurry to the barns, knowing Joel feeds the sheep on Wednesdays. He’s sitting by the pasture. Watching them with a peaceful look on his face.

“Joel.” You say breathlessly. His head whips around, eyes wide in shock.

“What’re you doin here?” He stands and walks over to you. His arms wrapping around your waist as if nothing had ever happened.

“Ellie came over and we talked, she told me that you’ve been miserable without me.” Placing your hands on his chest you lean closer into his arms. You missed being held by him so much.

“Did she now? Tell you anything else?” He asks.

Shaking your head you gently cup his face and pull him in for a kiss. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back, chasing that feeling he’s missed for weeks. 

“Missed you so much.” He mumbles against your lips. His soft brown eyes staring deep into your own.

“Come over tonight,” and never leave. That house of his is too big for two people anyways.

“I’d love to.” His arms don’t budge as the sheep baa loudly, wanting to make up for lost time.

“Need to introduce the two of you properly. Have some family bonding time.”

“Am I family now?” You ask teasingly, though your heart leaps at the idea. You’d love to be considered so important to Joel.

“No doubt about it baby,” He kisses your forehead gently. Sometimes things change and people come and go, but there’s no way in hell Joel’s ever going to let his little family go.

[a-aexotic]

Could you do soft Rafe being in love and having a secret relationship with someone opposite him like she’s so sweet and shy. She’s a kook but she’s friends with the pogues. Maybe some fluff and implied smut and he’s giving her aftercare? And also he’s just admiring her and being totally obsessed with her. Reader is blushing when he compliments her and tells her how much he is in love. How she understands him and is always there for him at his worst times.

I got carried away. Sorry 😭

ren's notes hi! ofc i can, omggg and don't worry ab it, the more descriptive, the better! i hope u enjoy! i love rafe's buzzcut sm

pairing. rafe cameron x fem!reader requested? yes no

warnings. fluff!, lowkey childhood enemies to lovers??, secret relationship, ooc rafe/sarah, a mention of a fight with ward, a few kisses and illusions to smut

summary. you've always lived next to the cameron's, what happens when you start getting closer to the older cameron?

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫

The Camerons have lived across the street from you for as long as you could remember. Morning brunches, summer yacht parties and Christmas's were always spent at the other's house. Ward was your father's best friend since they were children and they wanted you and Rafe to be the same.

But, time and time again, forcing your children to be friends proves to be not the best idea. Rafe started to dislike your presence more and more each time.

You weren't the problem. His father was. He would always compare you to him. "Why can't you be more like Y/N?" He'd heard this all his life so it was only natural that he'd start to dislike you despite the absolute angel you were.

You never held anything he said against him. You knew how complex his relationship with Ward was and you knew it wasn't his fault he didn't like you.

Rafe tried to hate you, he really did. But he just couldn't. You were the most caring person he'd ever. He'd only ever treated you with disrespect and unkindness but you still looked out for him.

Rafe was a softie at heart; so he started to like you more than a friend. And after you both shared a small kiss under the mistletoe on Christmas Eve at the L/N's, you started to date.

In secret, of course. Rafe didn't want to give his father the satisfaction of knowing he set you both up.

You and Rafe's relationship was only known by your best friend, Kie and his sisters and best friend, Wheezie, Sarah and Topper. Topper wasn't mean to find out, it just slipped from Sarah. They were all sworn to secrecy.

Rafe was delicate with you, always. He loved how caring you were and he always made sure to be just as caring with you as you were him.

You and Rafe sat at the beach, talking. This was how you two spent your nights; outside, in the back of his pickup truck watching the waves and the bright stars.

"I kind like how no one knows about us." You confessed with a small giggle as he nodded, putting his arm around you and pulling you close to him.

"Yeah, me too. It makes it more intimate." Rafe whispered as you both stared out to the ocean. "But sometimes, I want to make sure everyone knows you're mine."

"Me, too." You replied. It was mostly Rafe's wish to keep it private, it's best for both of you. He didn't want the island to have more to gossip about, he felt like it would be less of a strain on your relationship. He knew his father would make it difficult as well.

Rafe's relationship with his father was the one thing you and Rafe argue about. You think he should make more of effort to be nicer and he just wants to cut him off.

You considered yourself pretty close with Ward until Rafe's 18th birthday. You made it your mission to make sure everything was in place and perfect for Rafe. And it was perfect until Ward decided he needed to have a talk with Rafe.

This talk turned into a big fight almost immediately and Ward essentially had ruined Rafe's birthday and your hard work. You'd been with Rafe for about 2 months at that point, and you've known Rafe your entire life and you'd never seen him so distressed and angry.

He was in your room after the party and he was silent. He wasn't crying or screaming in anger - he was just silently laying in your bed. Your heart broke in two seeing Rafe so defeated. He was so strong (both mentally and physically), that's one of the reasons you admired him so much. But tonight, his will to fix his relationship with his father broke.

You had just taken a shower to give Rafe some space and you came back to see Rafe still hadn't moved from his spot. His father's words always had an effect on him, more than he wanted. He wanted to hate Ward but he truly couldn't - all he ever wanted was his validation.

You walked up to Rafe and embraced him tightly, quietly. You stayed like that for a couple minutes, Rafe basking in your presence. He moved his head upwards so he could look at you.

He couldn't help but break a small smile as he examined your gorgeous face. He was grateful that you were his - just his. That he had one person in this entire world who loved him for him, not for anything else.

"Thank you." Rafe whispered.

Your expression changed to a confused one. "For what?"

"Everything, baby." He paused. "The party, the cake, the effort you put in... and for loving me regardless of what everyone says about me."

You put your hand on his face, rubbing it slightly, comfortably. "None of it matters. I'm going to love no matter what they say because they don't know you like I do, okay?"

He hadn't heard anyone say that before. He's never been loved unconditionally since his mother and it felt so good to be loved again. He leaned up to kiss you.

It was a hard but passionate kiss. He pulled you in closer by the waist, then put his hands on your face to deepen the kiss. You pulled away from the kiss and you put your forehead on his, taking a few breathes.

You and Rafe locked eyes and he put his fingers in your hair, pulling you in for another kiss. He pulled away and looked deep in your eyes. "I wanna show you..." he paused. "How grateful I am, for you."

You nodded and he kissed you again, moving backwards into the bed so that you could get on the bed with him. He laid you down and you began to kiss again, this time with more fervor and desire than before.

That entire night Rafe was showing you how much he loved you. He loved being inside of you; he loved how close you were and that how it felt like there was no one else in the world but you two. He didn't do it for pleasure, that part was just a plus. The idea of combining with you in such a sensitive and soft way made Rafe love you even more, if that was even possible.

When you were done, Rafe wouldn't let you move. You were tired from not only the previous activities, but that entire day. Rafe got up to go get you water and after that, you both laid in comfortable silence.

You laid your head on his chest as you both drifted into a calm state of sleep.

"I love you." Rafe said for what seemed like the millionth time that night. You brought your hands to his, holding them.

"I love you, too."

[ghostkennedy]

Cameras Pt. 2

~Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~

Word count combined for both parts one and two: 8277

PART ONE

Content warnings: smut, sexual content, breaking n entering, stalker leon, obsessed leon, dirty talk, degradation, praise, grinding, slapping, spitting, choking, hair pulling, biting, aggressive sex, very brief mention of wanting to slice reader open and climb inside her, lots of begging, blowjob, throat fucking, taking pictures during sex, fingering, p in v sex, creampie

!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!

The water for your shower had been running for a few minutes now, but as you sat on the toilet seat, your mind was elsewhere. Jumbled thoughts and random flashbacks to the past 2 days were consuming you. You’d been home for two hours now and had yet to do anything at all besides think and think. But you had to shower and probably eat something eventually so you opened your phone and connected to your Bluetooth speaker, allowing your brain to get lost in the music. Maybe music could chase the thoughts away, maybe you could have a few minutes of peace.

You stepped underneath the hot water and let out a deep sigh. You let the water wash over your body and focus on the lyrics of the song blaring through the speaker. Slowly washing your body as you swayed to the music. You found yourself mumbling along to the lyrics of the song as you ran shampoo through your hair. All that mattered right now was the music and washing yourself. You’d never taken such a serene fucking shower, but things had gotten weird since what you’d discovered about Leon.

Leon. So much for sweet inner peace. You weren’t any closer to knowing what you were going to do about him. How could you even show your face around the office knowing he’s there? You can’t manage to force yourself to forget about him and trust me when I say you’ve tried. You’ve desperately tried to push the fresh memories to the back of your mind. As time goes on, perhaps you could forget about what happened; or at the very least the memories could become hazy and your brain wouldn’t be plagued with replays of Leon and his cock. How do you forget a cock like that? Now you’re thinking about his cock again. You’re supposed to not be thinking about his cock. Stop thinking about his cock!

You finished washing yourself off and stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourself up snugly in a towel. You wiped the fog off the mirror and stared into your reflection. Why was this happening to you of all people? Maybe it wasn’t you specifically after all. It could just be a thing for Leon. He picks someone to obsess over until he’s bored and then moves onto the next fixation. He definitely knew what he was doing with the obsessive stalker shit. He could eventually move on and then you could move on as well. Now that you know about him, he could lose interest in you. 

God, you really hoped that wasn’t the case. You hope that isn’t the case? Why the fuck would you hope that’s not the case? This isn’t healthy at all. You hate the way the whole situation is making you feel. Well, hate is a very strong word and Leon doesn’t deserve to be associated with such a word. Uncomfortable? Nerve racking? Uneasy, tense, disturbed? You couldn’t think of a word to describe it. Exhilarating? Intoxicating? Maybe you loved it. Maybe a part of you hated it and the other part, a much bigger part, absolutely loved it in every way. Nobody or anything had ever been so devoted to you. Infatuated with you.

You’re one mentally ill human being. You shook the thoughts from your head as you made your way out of the bathroom. Dinner and some good sleep should help clear your mind. Your thoughts could be factory reset by the morning and you’ll be able to go about your day as if everything is normal. Welcome to the state of Denial, you’ve officially entered. Enjoy your stay with us and please come again. You’re losing your mind, you’ve gone mad. 

Upon entering your living room, you came to an abrupt halt. Your heart felt like it almost fell out of your ass and your muscles all tensed up as if preparing for impact. “What the fuck?” you yelled out, “What are you, the fucking cat whisperer?” The man on your couch just chuckled, not even looking up from the book in his hands. One of your cats was cuddled up against his leg and your other cat was on the back of the couch cuddled into his opposing shoulder. “What are you doing here? Is that my book?” you asked Leon.

He shut the book and laid it down on the other cushion on the couch. He looked up at you and replied, “You should really read the next chapter, things are really starting to heat up.” He talked so casually, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. All you could do was stand in place staring at him, eyebrows furrowed together. You didn’t know what to say, what to do, what to make of this situation. “How was your shower?”

You cocked an eyebrow, “Good. What are you doing here?” 

“We have things to discuss,” he motioned for you to come closer to him, but you refused to move. “Come. Here,” he demanded and you shook your head at him.

“You couldn’t knock?”

“Why would I knock when you know I can just come in? Sounds like a waste of time to me.”

“Because you don’t live here! You could be a nice guy and respect boundaries, although it’s obvious you aren’t very good at that,” you shot him a dirty look and all he did was laugh. Comes into your place unannounced, scares the shit out of you, and he has the audacity to laugh at you. You two stared right at each other. An unspoken staring contest taking place between the two of you. You broke eye contact and sighed, slowly making your way over to sit next to him on the couch.

Leon had other plans, quickly darting his arms out to intercept you. He easily maneuvered you to straddle his thighs, causing you to let out an embarrassing shriek. 

“Leon, what the fuck? I’m basically naked! Let me go,” you exclaimed and tried to pull away from him, but he just held onto you tighter. He wrapped his hands around your back and pulled you even closer to him.

“Oh wow, I thought you were fully dressed under your towel. My mistake,” he smirked as you gave him the deadliest stare you could muster with flushed cheeks. “Have you gone all shy on me? But you displayed everything so nicely for me in those photos,” which caused you to avert your eyes away from him, staring at the cushion underneath you.

He grabbed your chin and brought your face back up to his and you couldn’t help but finally take in his appearance. He was wearing a button up shirt with the top few buttons undone, exposing the light hair on his chest. The sleeves were pushed up above his elbows, extenuating his huge biceps. He could wrap that bicep around your throat, slowly drain the life from you and you’d die a happy little content slut.

You brought your eyes back up to meet his, but his eyes were wandering elsewhere. His eyes looked across your exposed collarbones, down your arms, exploring the valley of your exposed thighs on either side of him. His eyes devoured you in a way that sent chills down your spine.

He finally met your gaze and you didn’t give yourself time to think before your right hand was raising up to his cheek, gently rubbing it. “You’re a fucking creep,” you said, your eyes never leaving his. Both your hands tangled up into his dirty blond hair as you continued, “What kind of a person breaks into someone’s house and jerks off with their panties? You’re a freak of nature. They should study people like you. What’s wrong with you?” He ground his hips up into you and you could feel his hard cock rubbing against you.

You pulled his hair as he brought his mouth to your ear, nibbling gently on the lobe. You had to fight back the moan that threatened to spill past your lips. He brought his mouth right up against your ear and spoke, “What kind of slut gets turned on by such behavior, huh?” You slowly start grinding yourself against his jeans, your exposed cunt making contact with his covered cock. You pulled your hands away from him, causing him to pull his mouth away from your ear and lean back so he could look at you.

You don’t know what came over you, but you pulled your dominant hand and slapped him as hard as you could across his face. “Anyone turned on by what you do is fucking deluded,” you told him as his hands pushed your towel up past your hips. His hands gripped so tightly into your hips you knew there’d be marks. You felt like your pelvis might snap in half between the pressure of his hands, but fuck did it make you so uncontrollably wet. 

“What was I supposed to do? The second I laid my eyes on you I couldn’t think of anything fucking else. I was jerking my cock what seemed like every hour for weeks after meeting you. I tried to stay away, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to slice you open, climb inside your body, and fucking live there. But I obviously can’t do that, so I climbed inside your house, surrounding myself with your things, learned everything there was to know about you, so at the very fucking least I could be inside your mind,” he said as you two grinded into each other like your lives depending on it.

He continued, “I watched you install your stupid cameras and do you think I gave a shit? I put on a show for you so that I could overtake your fucking mind like you did mine. I’ve been watching you for so long, I knew you were a depraved, needy whore. I knew if I showed you the truth it’d make your little pussy wet. You were made for me, fuck, just look at you.” He grabbed the back of your hair and yanked your head back. You couldn't contain it anymore, his words working you up more than you could stand.

Whimpers, gasps, pants, moans, sounds you’d never made before in your life were falling from your lips as you continued getting that sweet friction against your weeping cunt. His hand left your hair and pulled your towel completely off, baring you completely before him. He took one of nipples into his mouth and sucked intensely, like he was a dying man and the only thing keeping him alive was his mouth on your body.

As he sucked on your breast, his eyes rose and stared back into yours. This sudden urge came over you and you let saliva pool in your mouth before spitting it out on his cheek. He stopped the assault on your breast and looked at you with a shocked expression on his face, trying to comprehend what you had just done to him. “You disgust me,” you said before he quickly wrapped his hand around your throat, completely cutting off your air. 

Your hand quickly shot up and gripped onto his. You weren’t trying to pull his hand away, oh no, you held his grip tighter. Your reflexes were kicking in, your mouth fell open as your lungs tried to suck in any air they could. Your eyes were rolling into the back of your head, but that didn’t stop you from feeling Leon spit right into your open mouth.

“Fucking look at you taking whatever I’ll give you. You’re a filthy whore and you can’t even help it. You sit here and call me all sorts of names because you love my obsession with you,” he spoke as your face felt on fire and numb at the same time. He let go of your throat and you began to greedily suck in the air you’d been deprived of.

Grabbing you by the shoulders, he pushed you onto the floor on your knees as he stood before you, undoing his belt and jeans letting them fall down until he was just in his boxers before you. Your vision cleared as you looked directly at his hard dick through his briefs. You could see the growing wet spot on them from his precum as he brought his hand to his bulge and started rubbing himself through his underwear. 

You looked up with pleading eyes, hoping he’d understand what you so badly wanted to give him, but understanding is not what you got.

“What is it, baby? Is there something you want? We have to ask for things when we want them, that’s a concept you’re familiar with right? Or are you just a stupid slut who expects me to give her whatever she wants without having to work for it, hmm?” he said, the pace in which he was rubbing himself picking up. You whined, maybe he would give in and just let you take him without having to speak the words out loud. He just stared at you, waiting.

You cleared your throat and forced out the words, “Please, can I please suck your cock? I need to taste you so bad, please. Please sir, please fuck my mouth like you deserve to.” Once the words came out you couldn’t stop them. You needed him so badly, all you could do was helplessly beg. “I’ll be so good, I’ll do whatever you want from me, just please let me take your cock. Let me show you I can be good. Let me show you how well my throat can take it,” you continued begging and almost started drooling as he slowly pulled his underwear down, letting them fall to his ankles.

You looked up at him, asking for permission, “May I, sir?” He ran his hand down your scalp, bringing it down to your cheek and massaging it underneath his palm. He suddenly pulled his hand away before a sharp slap met your cheek that had your brain going foggy. The pain spread through your face, causing your jaw to fall open in a groan. 

Leon took this opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth, your attention grabbed immediately as your lips wrapped around him. You let out a moan as the taste of his precum flooded your mouth. The pain from the slap mixed with his taste had your eyes rolling back into your head as you sucked him in as hard as you could.

Leon’s head fell back in pleasure as a moan of your name fell from his lips. You pulled his cock deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat to spur him on. Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, pumping him while you took his cock as deep as it could go in your throat. The sheer size of his member still blew your mind despite seeing it over camera twice. Nothing could compare to him being right in front of your face.

One of his hands tangled in your hair as the other one fiddled with something behind him. “Hey,” he said, grabbing your attention away from the work you were doing on his cock, “You can say no, okay?” You raised an eyebrow questioningly as you didn’t know what he was trying to say. He pulled up your Polaroid camera and it started coming together in your brain. You whimpered realizing he wanted to take pictures of the two of you together.

The idea rushed feverishly through you and straight down to your cunt. You’d never thought of taking pictures in the act. You both knew you’d taken plenty of pictures alone, but the thought of doing this with Leon and having the pictures for both of you to hold onto? You could feel the arousal pooling down your thighs as you nodded your head once to let him know to please continue. He smiled down at you, “Atta girl. Put on a show for me and I’ll make it worth your while, yeah?” The hand still held in your hair pulled tightly, causing you to close your eyes as you kept up your work on his cock.

You lost yourself in pleasing him. Giving him pleasure gave you pleasure as well. The way his cock stretched your mouth around him was heavenly. He was thrusting into your mouth, pushing himself down your throat. Tears were pouring down your face, but you didn’t want him to stop. You loved feeling like this, loved when your mind went foggy as he used you.

“Look at me,” he suddenly demanded. You looked up and your eyes immediately looked into the camera as he snapped a picture of you. “Fuck, such a good girl. So good for me, your mouth is, fuck, fucking perfect,” he whined out. The sound was pure sex, causing you to moan around his dick.

“You want me to fuck you? You wanna take me into your slutty cunt, huh?” he asked you as you pulled your mouth off his cock sucking in a deep breath.

“Please, please. I want you to fuck me so bad. I want you to use my pussy until you cum, sir,” you were once again pleading for him. You couldn’t find shame within you anymore. Your need heavily outweighed your pride. And knowing he liked you like this? You wanted to give yourself over to him whenever he wanted, however he wanted.

He walked around you, pushing you forward so that your chest was laying on the cushions of your couch, knees still on the floor as he spread them wider before him. You looked back at him just in time to see him take a picture of you bent over for him. After the photo was pushed out of the camera, he brought the device closer to your sopping pussy and took a picture of how wet and needy you were for him. He sat the camera down and started kneading both his hands into your ass cheeks.

Leaning forward he kissed your shoulder as one hand slipped down between your thighs and rubbed your clit gently. He ran his fingers up and down your folds before sinking a finger into your wet heat. You couldn’t help but whine at this point. You were so worked up, you could’ve taken his cock immediately, but you were also too worked up to be able to voice this. He slid another finger in as you let out a long, high pitched moan. 

“Are you ready for me, baby? I need to feel your pussy around my cock,” Leon asked you as you nodded your head as fast as humanly possible. He chuckled at your neediness before slowly pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them to your lips. “Here, be a good girl and clean this up for me,” he could barely finish his statement before you were sucking his fingers clean of your juices. He let out a deep moan as his other hand pulled back and smacked your ass hard. 

He wrapped his hand around his cock and rubbed the tip against your wet hole, causing you to instinctively push yourself back, trying to take his cock. This earned you another smack on your ass. You moaned as you arched your back from the pain. Leon took this opportunity and slammed himself all the way inside of you, which had you unintentionally biting his fingers that were still being held in your mouth. He moaned at the way your teeth dug into his fingers before pulling them out and running his hand down your back.

You turned to look at him, begging, “Please move Leon, I need it so bad. I need you to fuck me, please please please please.” You couldn’t help but move your ass around to get some sort of movement within your pussy. You were so desperate, you couldn’t wait any longer, you needed him to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your own name.

“Shhhhh,” he whispered as he wrapped his hand around your throat, pulling your head back to rest on his peck as your back arched even further for him, “I’ve got you sweet girl.” He finally, finally, started moving and moans were already falling from your lips uncontrollably. “That’s it, you take me so well. Gonna make you feel so good,” Leon praised you. He had completely switched from the degrading way he spoke to you earlier and the praise had you melting beneath his touch. Your walls flutter around his cock in approval.

His pace picked up as he ruthlessly began pounding into you. You were uttering incoherent phrases at him as the pleasure was coursing through every nerve in your body. Leon leaned forward and buried his head in your neck, letting loose the most pornographic moans you’d ever heard. You didn’t know what was giving you more pleasure, the way he was fucking you or the way he sounded.

You pulled your hands from where they were gripping the couch and wrapping them behind you, tangling his hair in your fingers as you pulled his mouth to yours. The kiss was messy and loud, moaning as your tongues clashed together desperately trying to feel every square inch of each other. Leon’s hands released their grip on your thighs and ran them up to your stomach until he reached your breasts, where he rubbed your nipples between his fingers, further driving you crazy.

You felt yourself slowly climbing that mountain, heading towards release, when Leon’s movements suddenly stopped and he pushed your chest back into the couch, pressing you into it with both hands. You were whining and pushing yourself up and down his cock while he held you in place. “That’s it, fuck yourself with my cock. You look so good like this, so fucking needy,” Leon barely formed the words together as he got lost in the sight of you. He rested his hands lazily on his hips, holding himself up as you forcibly fucked back onto his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please fuck me. I’m so close I need you to fill me up, please,” you begged, wearing yourself out from your movements, hardly able to catch your breath but unrelenting in your need to cum. 

Leon gave into your request, pushing his hands into your back, holding you in place as he ruthlessly fucked into you. He let out a loud moan before speaking, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Cum with me sweet girl. I want to feel you cum around my cock.” You couldn’t formulate a response, but after a few more hard, sloppy thrusts you were screaming Leon’s name and all sorts of profanities as you came. 

After feeling you squeeze his cock so tightly, Leon was cumming deep inside your pussy. Thrusting into you through his orgasm, pushing his cum further inside of you. Your knees gave out beneath you, but Leon was quick to grab your hips and hold you up. He slowly slid his cock out of you, taking in the view of his cum slowly dripping down your thighs. If it was possible, he would’ve cum again at the sight alone. 

He helped you turn over and lay on the floor right beside your couch as he laid down right next to you. You were tightly sandwiched between the couch and coffee table with him, but you didn’t mind. You wanted to be as close to him as possible. You rolled onto your side and threw your leg and arm over him, chin resting on his shoulder. He turned to look at you, catching your lips in a slow, gentle kiss. It was a sharp contrast to how you’d just been moments ago and it would’ve given anyone whiplash, but to you both it made perfect sense. 

Leon pulled away and spoke softly, “There’s only one thing I’m not sure of. Why’d you get the cameras?” You let out an airy laugh and were about to speak when you were interrupted by a loud crash in the kitchen, followed by one of your cats zooming through the living room and into your bedroom away from the noise.

“What the fuck was that?” you yelled, whipping your head towards the kitchen. “That’s why I got the damn cameras! Between the cats, and apparently you, I was beginning to believe I was living with a poltergeist.”

Leon laughed before speaking, “Hey, I’m careful. That’s all on them or the poltergeist.”

~masterlist~

[grxmreaperx]

Professor Hoffman

Pairing: (professor!) Mark Hoffman x (f!) reader

Word count: 3.1k (oops)

Warnings: 18+!! this is absolute filth. Daddy kink, choking, oral (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), dirty talk, p in v penetration, creampie, age gap (everyone is over 18!!), praise/degradation. Mark being a bastard. I’m so sorry

Summary: You weren’t expecting much from your criminology class. But when you see your professor for the first time, you realize the class may be much more interesting than you were expecting.

I went so overboard with this. I do not know where this came from. I apologize for my actions. Also, all of my knowledge comes from Jim Can’t Swim and Explore With Us interrogation analysis videos, so don’t come for me if some of the criminology stuff is wrong!!

You walked into the lecture hall, bag digging into your shoulder after a long day, trying to find a seat. You sighed. Almost every seat was full, people congregating in the back. You set yourself down in the second row from the front, one of the few empty seats.

You pulled your laptop out of your bag, trying to keep yourself awake. This was your last class of the day and all you could think about was getting back to your apartment and having a nice dinner.

You stifled a yawn, eyes unfocused on your screen.

“Welcome, everyone.”

The deep voice jolted you from your haze, drawing your eyes up from your computer, and onto him.

You felt a jolt run through your body as you took him in. Dark hair neatly pushed back, full lips, chest straining at his suit.

“I’m Professor Hoffman. I’ll be your criminology instructor this semester.”

Shit, maybe you weren’t so ready to go home anymore.

--

That was the one class you didn’t find yourself dreading. Your other psychology and criminal justice classes were a bore, lecturers talking monotonously for an hour and twenty minutes as you tried desperately to stay awake. Professor Hoffman’s class was actually interesting, it challenged you, made you think. He didn’t force you all to listen to him talk the entire time, even if you wouldn’t have minded hearing that voice for hours on end. He had been a detective before switching to teaching a few years back, so he played interrogation tapes, having you all watch the body language, the word choice, the facial expressions of the suspect.

And it was nice to have something pretty to look at while he taught.

You were a bit embarrassed by how many times he had caught you staring at him. You had never looked at a professor as anything more than a teacher, a mentor, before now. But during his lecture, you found your mind drifting. What his voice would sound like in your ear, how his hands would feel roaming over you, the noises he would make.

You had had your fair share of adventures in college, going out with your friends and ending up in someone’s bed every once in a while. But none of them had been anything to brag about; frat boys only in it for themselves, guys who had no idea what they were doing, or didn’t know how to make it last.

You needed something more, something satisfying.

“So, tell me, do you think this suspect was guilty or not guilty? And tell me why.”

His voice shook you out of your daydream, bringing you back to your reality. Your eyes scanned over the screen, trying to remember bits and pieces of the interrogation you were supposed to have been watching.

You raised your hand; as much as you hated it, you wanted to impress the man. You wanted to show him that you were smart, that you knew what you were talking about. And that you were paying attention, not just staring at him the entire time.

He nodded towards you, telling you to go ahead. “Not guilty. He got angry when you accused him, which is a very typical response from someone who is being falsely accused. And he didn’t use any hedge words when he was talking, which would be unusual for a guilty person. And there’s no obvious motive.”

Your professor smirked, nodding along as you answered. “Very good. That’s exactly right. Another clue to tell you this was…”

You zoned out, trying to contain yourself at his praise.

--

He scolded himself, his gaze continuously falling onto you throughout every class.

He had left the police department a couple years ago, looking for a job with shorter hours, more time to relax, less frustration.

But now he had a different kind of frustration.

Every class, there you were. Sitting right in front of him, eyes watching him intently as he spoke. He saw the way your face changed every time he walked in the room, your tired face lighting up a bit. He saw the way your gaze lingered on him when you were supposed to be working on an assignment, or watching one of the interviews you were meant to be dissecting.

He noticed your attempts to impress him, always eager to answer his questions. You were always there early, even when others began to slowly fade out, showing up late or not showing up at all.

And, he had to admit, it was working. You were smart, and he could see how interested you were in this topic, even if you seemed to be a bit more interested in him than the class. He knew you’d make a great detective one day; your understanding of others’ minds would be a great asset to the force.

He almost wished he hadn’t left the department. He would give anything to still be in his position when you were first starting out in the field, eager to learn, to impress, to please. He would love for you to train under him, your frustration growing as he teased you, giving you smaller and smaller tasks, making you prove yourself.

He pulled himself away from his thoughts, shuffling his notes together before the start of class.

“Alright everyone, I’ve posted your grades for your last assignment. Some of you did very well, others seem to be a bit distracted in this course.” He purposefully shifted his gaze, meeting your eyes as he spoke this last part.

He suppressed a smirk as he saw your face flush.

“Now, the rational choice theory…”

--

“I really don’t know what I’m doing wrong in that class,” you sighed.

Your friend nodded. “I mean, he is a pretty tough grader. I don’t think I’ve gotten above a C on anything.”

“Yeah, but I feel like my work is good! Some of it he seems to really like, and then others he’s super harsh. But I thought this last paper was really good!”

“Maybe you should go talk to him about it. Maybe he could help you out, tell you what you’re doing wrong.”

“Yeah, I guess. I probably should. I really like this class; I want to do well in it.”

Your friend smirked. “Do you like the class, or do you like the hot professor?”

You lightly slapped their arm. “Shut up, I don’t think he’s hot.”

They laughed. “Of course you do! I see you staring at him all the time! It’s ok: he is pretty hot.”

You felt your face heating up. “Ok, maybe I think he’s kinda hot, but I like the class too!”

“I hear you.”

--

As class ended the next day, you took a breath. You shouldn’t be this nervous to talk to him, he was your professor, of course he would be willing to help you. You lingered in your seat for a few moments, taking longer than usual to stuff your laptop back in your bag. As people filed out of the room, you carefully approached his desk.

“Professor Hoffman?”

He looked up, smiling slightly as he met your eyes. “Yes, what can I do for you?”

“I was hoping that maybe you had time to talk to me about my last paper? I was wondering if you could tell me what I did wrong, or what I could improve next time?”

He regarded you for a moment and you couldn’t help but shift a bit under his gaze.

“Of course. I have another class in a few minutes, but I have time to meet tomorrow, if you’d like.”

You nodded, thanking him as he gave you a time and his office number. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

He smirked. “See you then. Don’t be late.”

--

“What are you all dressed up for?” your friend asked.

“What? I’m not dressed up. Do I look dressed up?”

“I mean, maybe not dressed up, but you look nice. What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

They smiled. “Oh! Now I remember. You have your meeting with the hot professor today! That’s why you dressed so cute.”

“I did not!”

“I don’t believe you. You better hurry up, don’t you have to be there in a few minutes?”

You looked at your phone, cursing under your breath. They were right, you only had a couple minutes before your meeting. You sped up your pace, telling your friend you’d see them later as they walked to their class building.

“You better tell me all about it! Don’t do anything inappropriate, young lady!”

You hurried into the brick building that held Professor Hoffman’s office, trying to find the room number he had given you. Your eyes scanned the plaques next to each door, looking for the one engraved with his name. When you finally found it, the door was shut. You knocked softly, waiting patiently until you heard a voice tell you to come in.

You pushed the door open, examining his office as you entered. One wall was lined with bookshelves, filled with books on psychology, criminal justice, and what looked like case files. His desk sat in front of the window, his back to the light streaming in through the glass. He sat, leaned back in his desk chair, shirt slightly unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Take a seat,” he said, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. You quickly complied, smoothing your skirt as you sat down.

--

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you when you walked into his office, closing the door behind you. He should have punished you right then for testing him like that: all dressed up for him, pretty skirt cutting off just above your knees, shirt lower cut than he had ever seen you wearing in class.

“So,” he started, trying to regain his composure. “You wanted to talk to me about your paper?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.” Fuck. “I was wondering if you could tell me what I could have done better with this assignment. I thought I did really well on it, until I got my grade back.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, it was very well-written. And you have the concepts down. But your job was to analyze the video, not just repeat what I had said in class. Even if you put it a bit more eloquently than I did.” He smiled. “I almost get the feeling that you’re a bit…distracted in my class.

He watched as you became flustered, a smile still on his lips. “Well, professor, I just – I just have a lot on my mind. Sometimes it wanders, you know?” Your eyes darted around, staring at your hands, your bag on the floor, the surface of his desk.

He nodded. “Wanders to what?”

He couldn’t help the smug look on his face as you struggled to answer. He knew what your mind wandered to, he could see it on your face when you were supposed to be paying attention to his lectures. He saw the blush on your face, the way your pupils were blown. And he knew exactly where your mind was wandering to.

“Well, you know, to other things I have to do.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Like me?”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“You heard me. I see the way you stare at me, the look on your face when I catch you. You think I have no idea what you think about when you’re in my class? You think I can’t read you like a book, sweetheart?”

He tilted his head, watching as you took in his words. You looked like a deer in headlights, knowing he had figured out your secret. He saw the way your body stiffened at the pet name, your legs pressing together.

“I’ll tell you what,” he started, against his better judgement. “You really want to improve your grade?”

You nodded. He told himself to stop, to kick you out of his office before he put his career in jeopardy. But, God, the look on your face, so eager to hear what he had to say, pretty face flushed with embarrassment, legs squeezed together so tight he thought you might explode.

“Cmere,” he said in a low voice.

You slowly stood, making your way around his desk to stand in front of him. “Tell me, sweetheart,” he growled. “Where does your mind wander to during my class? I want to hear you tell me.”

“To you,” you said softly.

“Cmon, baby, you can do better than that.” He knew he was being a dick, he saw how flustered you were, how you were trying to work up the courage to answer his question. And he loved it.

“To you – to you…”

“To me fucking you?” he helped.

“Yes.” Your eyes were fixed on your hands.

“Look at me and say it.”

Your eyes met his. “My mind wanders to – to you fucking me.”

“Much better. Now, you really want to improve your grade, sweetheart?”

You nodded and he saw the eagerness in your eyes, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

“Then get on your fuckin’ knees.”

He smiled, chuckling as you quickly dropped to your knees in front of his chair, hands getting to work on his belt. He watched your eyes widen as you released him from his dress pants and couldn’t help the feeling of pride that swelled in his chest.

“Something wrong, baby?” he asked, cocky smile spreading across his face. You shook your head. “Then go on.”

He let out a deep groan as you took him into your mouth, placing a hand on the back of your head. He wrapped his hand in your hair, guiding you as his dick hit the back of your throat. “Such a good girl.” He leaned his head back against the chair, savoring the feeling of your head bobbing on his cock.

His looked back down at you, eyes darkening as he saw how eagerly you sucked him off, spit coating your lips, tears welling in your eyes every time you took him down your throat. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little distracted during classes too, picturing you just like this.

He pulled your head back by your hair until you were looking up at him. “Get up here, sweetheart,” he said, motioning to his lap.

You shakily got to your feet before straddling his lap, setting your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. He reached under your skirt, hands gripping your ass. He watched as you began to grind your clothed core on his dick, admiring the desperate look on your face.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he asked, hand slowly wrapping around your throat. “So desperate for me. No one been taking care of this pussy?”

You frantically shook your head, grinding down harder.

“Poor little slut. Take them off. I’ll take good care of you, sweetheart.”

You shifted on his lap, pulling your underwear down your legs and tossing them to the side. He slowly ran a finger through your folds, letting out a low hum. “God, baby, this all for me?” Your answer was cut off by him pushing two fingers inside of you, your words turning to a moan. He slowly pumped his fingers, curling them inside you while your ground down on his hand.

“Poor baby, those college boys don’t know how to make you feel good? You’re so fuckin’ desperate.” You quickly shook your head, too lost in the feeling of him working you to form words. You whined when he pulled his fingers out.

He lined himself up at your entrance, the other hand wrapping around your waist, holding you steady. “Go on, baby. Show me how needy you are.”

You slowly slid yourself down onto his cock, mouth falling open as he stretched you out. His head fell back onto his chair, eyes screwing shut, before quickly opening them again, taking in the sight of you full of his dick. He placed his hands on your hips, keeping you steady as you began to bounce. You quickly picked up the pace, grinding yourself down on him, eyes clouded from pleasure.

Your moans filled his ears, eyes roaming your body as you fucked yourself on his cock.

“God, baby, you look so fuckin’ pretty. Such a good little whore for me, hmm?”

“Yes, yes, just for you, Daddy!” you moaned, before quickly catching yourself. He saw your eyes widen, realizing what you had just said.

He wrapped his strong arm around your waist, standing from his chair, still buried deep inside you, before setting you on his desk. He wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezing slightly and pushing your back down onto the surface. “Say it again.”

“I’m all yours, Daddy,” you said softly.

“That’s fuckin’ right baby.” He set a fast pace, roughly fucking into you, one hand still around your throat, the other gripping your hip so hard he knew it would probably leave marks.

He let out a groan at the sight of you underneath him, skirt bunched around your waist, mouth hanging open, hands gripping his arms. He watched your back arch off the table, squeezing your eyes shut.

He froze, abruptly stopping his thrusts. “Look at me when you cum on my dick, baby. Fuckin’ look at me or I’ll stop again. Understand?”

“Yes sir,” you cried, eyes locked on his.

“Much better.” His fingers found their way to your clit as he continued burying himself in you. “Cum for me baby, show me how much you love my cock.”

Your nails dug into his arm as your legs shook around him, moaning loudly as you reached your high. He felt his own end coming on. He leaned down, his face inches from yours. “Tell me sweetheart, where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside…” was all you could manage, still overcome with pleasure.

He smiled. “You want me to fill you up, baby?” You nodded, begging him to fill you.

His pace faltered as he came, gripping your hips tightly. He let go of you, placing his hands on his desk, catching his breath. He slowly pulled out of you, pulling his pants back up and tossing you your underwear. You carefully sat up, legs still shaking slightly.

He settled himself back in his chair, leaning back and running a hand through his hair. He smirked at you, sitting on his desk, completely undone.

“I suppose I can raise your grade on that paper,” he started. “But I do think we should have weekly tutoring sessions. You obviously need some more help with this.” He smirked at you. “Does that sound good to you?”

You never agreed to something faster in your life.

--

I really liked writing this, if y’all like it I may give you a part 2👀

[lidiasloca]

more than this (azriel x reader)

summary: after Azriel and reader had a summer together, the last thing Az was expecting was to face her again. (angst).

previous chapter; next chapter

chapter four

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆

The girl runs into his arms, and Azriel tries to catch up with her swift movements. Then, he’s hugging her. 

Mor and you share a glaze, the fifteenth just today. Since when was Azriel so physical with anyone that wasn’t, well… anyone he didn’t have a romantic somewhat-relationship with? Mor seems just as surprised as you. 

But maybe… maybe he and Elain do have something.

You don’t let the thought linger. “Mor, I was thinking on going upstairs to train. Will you join me?” 

She nods, not daring a word. 

“Can I come?” Elain says, and moves away from Azriel to face you. “I’m Elain, Feyre’s sister.” 

Please no, don’t come. You try to smile friendly and say,  “I know who you are.” 

She returns your smile. “I don’t know who you are, though.”

She doesn’t mean it to be rude, you’re sure. Not with her sweet smile, and sweeter face, and sweetest voice. But, still, her question is a reminder how secret was the relation you and Azriel had. He’s comfortable enough with her to hug her like that, but not to name the girl he spent the whole summer with.

You swallow your hurt and don’t let your smile falter. “Y/n. I’m… Mor’s friend.”

“Oh,” she replies, her tone, one of surprise. “She’s never mentioned you.” You’re not so sure that she’s not trying to be rude now.

Since you’re not quite sure how to answer, your eyes move to their own accord to Azriel. You find nothing, though, no emotion. You feel stupid for thinking you’d find pity or… something in him. 

You should know better.

Mor coughs, making your eyes turn to her. “Elain, didn’t you say you wanted to start the Valkyrie training as well?”

No, no, no, no. You beg your friend with your eyes, but she’s looking at Elain. “Yes! I would love to.”

“Well, then go get changed. We’ll be waiting in the living room.” Oh, gods, no. 

Elain nods enthusiastically and starts walking to the door. But when she’s at the door, she pivots on her heels and looks at Azriel smirking. That type of smirk… it sets you on edge. 

“See you later,” she says, and the way her voice reminds you of when someone makes a dare. You hate it; her tone and the fact that she means to meet with him later. 

Fortunately, she’s at last gone. Unfortunately, now Azriel’s gaze is only directed to you. You try not to care much about it, or at least look like so. “Let’s go,” you tell Mor. 

Azriel finally decides to talk “Y/n,” he says, though it sounds like a question. But you don’t let yourself look at him as you leave, Mor leading the way. If he can stay silently when you want answers, so can you. 

“What was all of that about?” you whispers-shout to Mor, remembering how shocked she was, too, when Elain jumped to Azriel for a hug. Azriel. For a hug. 

“I have absolutely no idea.”

…

“Now, you will stretch,” Cassian tells the sweaty and exhausted three of you. The training had been a bit too much, taking into account that this was your first Valkyrie training. 

“Again? But we already stretched in the beginning,” you complain, barely feeling the muscles on your legs.

“Because, Y/n,” Elain -Elain- starts. “It will help relax tense muscles, among other things, of course.” She smiles tenderly. That smile.

“Exactly,” Cassian says. “Ladies, I have to go now to another group, okay? But you keep stretching a bit more.” And then he’s gone. 

“How do you know that, Elain; I thought this was the first time you trained.” Mor asks her, leaning to her leg. You do the same, feeling a bit of pain in your leg. 

“It is,” she replies. “But Azriel taught me that; about stretching after a workout.” She glances at you and adds sweetly, “or any activity of the sort.” 

What? You have to force your jaw not to literally drop. You turn to look Mor, and see she’s doing the exact same. 

But cute little Elain just giggles. “I’m joking.”

Yeah - sure. 

Your curiosity gets the best of you as you ask, almost beg, with your eyes to Mor. She knows you well, and immediately understands what you want from her: “Umm… Azriel and you, Elain. What… well, are you something?” she asks and smiles shyly, so unlike her. “Just curiosity.”

Elain moves her gaze to the floor, a coy smile forming on her face. She hums and then says, “Well, it’s pretty secret, -you know Azriel-, but we… sort of have something.” She at last looks up at us, at you, her smile still there. “Is it that obvious?”

You want to strangle someone.

Is it that obvious? That voice.

As you try to not hit someone, the anger glowing inside you uncontrollably, Mor seems more inclined to silent shock. You two might look interestingly scary from Elain’s point of view. 

“Oh,” Mor gets out. “That’s…” She coughs again, trying to say something.

But you get your words faster. “For how long?” You know Azriel isn’t that kind of male. But… it hasn’t been so long since summer ended, and then, the Azriel you knew doesn’t feel like the Azriel you know now.

And now… now, you wouldn’t bet on it. 

Elain seems like she’s thinking, counting. Gods - you can hear your heart beating near your throat. “Somewhere in May,” the girl says eventually. “It sort of feels like a fever dream,” she adds, giggling. 

No.

You stand up quickly, not bothering with an excuse, as you make your way to your room. 

…

It feels like you’ve been crying for weeks, and you have the feeling you look like it, too. But it’s only been a few minutes that you’ve been curled in the bed, bawling your eyes.

There’s this horrendous mix of sadness and guilt in your heart, and they feel physically painful, like an acute stab in your heart. And another, and another. They keep coming. Especially because the room still has the scent of both Azriel and Elain. And that just makes you overthink the more. 

Mor had knocked on the door, but you hadn’t opened, just told her you needed to be alone. But once she had gone, you regretted not asking her to winnow you to your apartment. Or somewhere away from these people. 

Almost in cue to your prayers, you hear a knock on the door. You run to it, but recognize the scent, and stop your hand from touching the handle.

“Nesta?”

“Can you open?” And you do. Her eyes pierce your face, and you can make out how bad you look by the way she assesses you. “Mor told me…” She tries again, “I can get Cassian here. So he can fly you.”

You nearly drop to your knees in thankfulness. But you remain somewhat calm, and nod before muttering, “thank you, Nesta.”

…

Luckily for you, Cassian only asks you one question, and it isn’t one you don’t want to answer. “Where?”

You let him take you in his arms as you think your answer. “The day court.”

He gives you a firm nod, one that makes you think he’s been warned, or threaten, by Nesta. The thought lightens something in your heart, though tears are still on your face. 

After what feels like eternity, you enter the Day Court. Then, you commence indicating him to the palace, where you’re expecting to find your old friend. That, if he’s not busy with his High Lord’s duties or… other deals that always have him busy. 

You finally land, and Cassian gives you an incredulous look, “Helion’s palace?” You nod again, still not confident with talking too much. “Helion?” he asks again, more to himself than to you. 

“What about me?” the High Lord asks, making the both of you turn to him. You waste no time, going in for a hug. It had been a long time since you had last seen him. “Missed you, too, sweetheart,” he says against your hair. 

It’s all too warm, the bubble you feel yourself in when in his arms. But Cassian is still there, waiting. You let go of Helion, who looks at you so sweetly. Genuinely sweetly. 

 “Thank you, Cassian.” 

He nods again, and seems to debate himself before saying, “Azriel… he has been speaking to me the whole fly. He, well, he wants to talk with you. He wants to know where you are.”

The pain is again there. 

But so is Helion, who grabs your hand, as if he could sense how you are feeling. He always knows, when it comes to you, after all. 

“Cassian, please. Don’t tell him. I need to be alone.” You don’t even know why on earth would he want to see you. This is a win for him, never having to see you again. But you don’t want to think about anything related to him. 

“But, Y/n,” he replies. “Azriel told me-”

“It doesn’t matter what he told you,” Helion interrupts. “It only matters that she’s saying she doesn’t want him here, understood?”

Cassian seems shocked at how serious Helion is, since he usually isn’t. Unless it’s an important matter. Something like comfort glows in your chest. Loving comfort. That bubble again. 

Cassian nods, yet again, and then takes off flying.

“Come on, let’s get you to your room, sweetheart.”

You turn to your friend. “Is it really still my room?”

“What do you mean? Do you think I would give a random guest your room?”

You stare at him and smile. “Thank you, Helion.”

-Characters by Sarah J. Maas

This was longer than usual, but there was a lot to unpack of what I have in mind with the story. Worry not, I'm pretty positive this is going to have a happy ending, hopefully. I have the next chapter pretty planed, so it shouldn't take too long for me to write it. random mention to the grudge by olivia rodrigo, cause it's right now playing and cause i love it sm. teenage dream is so great as well :)).

tag list:

@kalulakunundrum @bubybubsters @goradgirl @kennedy-brooke

[shadowlali]

Hii, I love the way you write and was wondering if you could do Philip Graves enemies to lovers to yk what 🤪

the investigator 

COD - Phillip Graves x fem!reader

[18+] wc: ~ 3.1k summary: Commander Graves gets help from an investigator. masterlist

warnings: NSFW, implied age gap, Graves being then nice, oral (f! receiving), unprotected sex, some proofreading, no use of Y/N nor too many details on reader’s appearance  a/n: thank you for this request anon! i really tried my best on this, writing enemies to lovers was definitely a nice challenge. hopefully f!reader is okay! also, if anyone sends in a request, my writing tends to be around ~2k+ but i can try (keyword: try) to make them shorter :)

You’re a nuisance to him. Intelligent, resourceful, rude, beautiful. You manage to captivate everyone’s attention whenever you step foot onto the Shadow Company base. You’re kind, too. Always smiling and talking with the other soldiers, showing genuine interest in their conversations. 

Until you eventually have to face him. Your demeanor changes, the smile drops from your face and forced formalities leave your lips. Everytime you say “Commander” or “Sir”, Phillip can swear on his life that you’re being sarcastic, a tiny smirk always present on your lips. Phillip hates the effect you had on him. It would be so much easier to write off your existence from his mind, but the way you look and the pull of your hypnotic voice reels him in. 

Only in moments like these, when outside help for the Shadow Company is absolutely necessary do you receive the call. You’re an entrepreneur of sorts. Your main talents being investigative and tech work. Shadow Company is one of your least favorite clients, especially since Commander Phillip Graves is always present in the meetings. You aren’t used to speaking to CEOs or Commanders, usually the mission leaders will reach out and take point from there. 

Phillip Graves is handsome with a voice like warm honey, able to dazzle and woo anyone who speaks to him. His soldiers are loyal to their leader, Phillip, having earned their respect. Despite this, he irritates you. The way he speaks to you is as if he’s speaking to a child, ignoring the countless accomplishments in your work. You also don’t like the feelings he stirs up. 

You were a little dazed the first time you met Commander Phillip Graves, his tactical pants and shirt stretched over his body emphasizing every ripple of hard muscle. It was the look he gave, the one you’d seen many times before as someone young in this industry. Doubt. 

“How old are you?” Was the first thing out of his mouth after introductions. 

“I’m–” 

Phillip interrupted you,“ You haven’t been doing this for long, have you?” 

“No, I haven’t. But I’ve had much success in my work. I’m confident enough that I can find whatever you need.” 

Phillip hummed, turning to look at his second in command. 

Your smile dropped, annoyed at this point at having woken up early and gone against your code of getting into cars with unknown men. Blackout, thick glasses had been placed over your eyes as you approached the base to prevent you from knowing exactly where they were located. They sought after you for your services, not the other way around. Therefore, you were a little offended at the comments and insinuations made by Commander Graves. 

“If you don’t believe me, that’s okay. You can find someone else to do it. Who can take me back to my apartment?” You asked, slowly stepping towards the black SUV that had picked you up. 

Phillip’s head whipped towards you, stunned at your tone of voice. Never in his years as Commander and CEO had anyone disrespected him, much less in the presence of his top men. He opened his mouth, ready to let you know exactly who was in charge and who gave orders around here before his second-in-command cut him off. 

“What he means by that is we are just a little surprised that someone so young can do this job. We’re a little on edge but we’d like for you to provide us some intel.” 

You decided to stay, they agreed to your going rate and you didn’t need to speak to Graves for the rest of your time there. He’d pass by the conference room temporarily given to you and give a short glance before looking away. It only took you four days to find everything they needed, the intel legit and his men left impressed by your work. Graves congratulated your work, his body stiff as if he still couldn’t believe it. 

You felt smug at being able to prove him wrong, the newly deposited six-figures in your bank account making you especially happy. They didn’t provide you with company secrets, but you knew how desperate the situation was for them to have reached out. Shadow Company reached out a few more times after the first, always willing to pay whatever price for your skills. 

Currently, you sit across from Commander Phillip Graves in his office, having been rushed in here the moment you exited the SUV. He’d been sitting at his desk, eyebrows scrunched in concentration when you walked in. Graves looks up, his eyes doing a quick sweep over your body. You choose to ignore the warm feeling it gives you and sit down at one of the empty chairs in front of him. Phillip tries to even out his breathing, having enough on his plate already to be distracted by your pretty face. 

Graves runs a hand through his hair before speaking, “I’m… I’m glad you're here. This is urgent.” 

He slides a thin folder across the desk before he begins to speak, “This is the profile we have on –” 

“I’m sorry, this is it? Four pages? I thought you had more on this guy?” 

“I thought you were able to find anyone and anything? Isn’t that your whole business model? With the money I’m paying you, you should be grateful I have more than just his name,” Graves snaps. 

“For a company who prides themselves on being the best PMC out there because of how they ‘get shit done’ it's concerning that your staff has only four pages on him after months of research and tracking.” 

Phillip stares at you, once again remembering why he finds you so insolent. You quickly scan the pages while completely disregarding him. Shadow Company has been tracking a suspect for months, ready to intercept the moment he tried to sell his merchandise. Using finger quotes to speak to a Commander is unacceptable, and only someone like you would do that. He decides to continue, ignoring your words.

“Like I was saying, this is what we have so far. We believe he might’ve been tipped off about our surveillance. He’s dangerous and we need to find him quickly.” 

“I’ll see what I can find, I have some contacts who I can reach out to. I’ll be honest, I need about a week –” 

“You have 4 days.” 

You give him an annoyed glance before standing up and saying “yes sir.” You’re then led to the same conference room as before and get to work. A few of the employees on the mission check in on you periodically, providing you with any extra information they find. 

You reach out to your contacts and have some good leads on where this guy is. Graves comes in on the second day, a few minutes after you arrive from the on-site room they provided. You decide to offer an olive branch. 

“Good morning, sir. Did you want a recap of what I’ve found so far?”

He says nothing, pulling out a chair opposite of yours. Your eyes are going to get stuck in the back of your head with the amount of times you’ve rolled them whenever in his presence. 

He fixes you with a stare,“ You know I looked into your other contracts, everyone says what a ‘pleasure’ you are to work with.” 

You lift an eyebrow with his statement, trying not to laugh at his use of finger quotes which is probably punishment for your actions yesterday. You can’t help yourself, you like pushing his buttons. 

“You spent time researching me instead of, oh I don’t know, trying to find the guy your people lost?” 

Phillip watches you type away at your laptop, his mind reeling with a million thoughts, none of them focused on the suspect. He tries not to concentrate on how good you smell or how much he likes the mischievous twinkle in your eyes whenever you look at him. Phillip stands up, not liking the direction of his thoughts. You’re here to do a job, and the less time he spends with you, the better. 

“Focus on the job, I want my money’s worth.” 

It takes you 3 days to find him, and you’re damn proud of it. The suspect had been laying low on a small boat off the coast and the Shadows were able to pose as buyers to intercept him. You stand in Graves’ office as his second-in-command once again thanks you for your efforts before leaving you two alone. Your bags are packed and a car is waiting for you on the ground floor. Phillip stands and rounds the corner from his desk. He has a pensive look on his face when he addresses you. 

“You should have received the deposit to your bank account by now.” 

“About that –” 

“Let me finish.” He pauses before taking a deep breath, “It was a few more than your going rate. It's my way of apologizing for how I’ve treated you.” 

Your eyebrows shoot up. You thought the extra money had been a thank you for completing the job early, not for an apology.  

“This job, this industry it… It takes a toll on you. That's not an excuse for how often I doubted you. You shouldn’t be spoken to in that way, whether you complete a job or not.”

The look in Graves’ eyes seems sincere. You’re used to working with demanding people, it’s just a fact of life. Yet, it isn’t often when people like him apologize.  

“I forget that everyone is just trying to make it in this world and you don’t need some old guy making it harder for you. I’m sorry.” 

You laugh, ”You’re not that old. And… I accept your apology.” 

Phillip never thought he’d get turned on by the sound of your laugh, but it happens. His pants tighten once he hears the melodic tone of your laugh and the sight of your genuine smile directed towards him. He smiles, stretching out his hand to shake yours. You suck in a shaky breath, his eyes are bright and the fangs at the edge of his smile give you impure thoughts. His hand is warm and firm against your own. You feel tingles shoot up your arm as he gently shakes it. 

“I guess I should go now.” 

He doesn’t let go of your hand, moving his thumb across your knuckles. 

“Yea, you probably should.” 

You’re not sure who lunges first. One moment you’re both an appropriate distance apart, the next his hands have pulled you in at the waist while your hands tug at his soft hair, his lips pressed against your own. Graves’ gives hungry kisses, biting or tugging at your lips.

He moans when you give a hard tug on his hair, digging his hands into your lower back. Graves turns you both around while never breaking the kiss, clumsily walking you towards his desk. He unbuttons your jeans and pushes them down along with your soaked panties, pushing your hands away as you try to unbuckle his belt. 

“No, not yet,” he says while breaking this kiss. 

You kick off your shoes and shimmy the rest of the way out of your bottoms. Graves grabs the end of your shirt and drags it over your head. Your bra follows soon after and you’re left completely naked in his office. He steps back to admire you, a hand dragging from your collarbones down to pinch each nipple, then to your clenched tummy until he drags a finger up and down your wet seam. 

“Sit on the desk,” he orders. 

“Yes, Commander.” 

He groans as you sit on the desk and spread your legs, palming the hard bulge in his pants. Graves steps between your open thighs and pushes lightly at your chest. You get the hint and lie flat on your back.

He kneels down and runs the tip of his tongue from your swollen clit to your slick opening. Graves’ hands are firm on your thighs to keep them open as he starts with strong strokes of his tongue against your seam. You grip the edge of the desk, whines falling from your lips. 

“So wet and sweet for your Commander, right baby? Seems like the only way to shut you up is by licking this pretty pussy.” 

Graves slips a finger in your opening while latching onto your sensitive button. Phillip can’t believe how velvety and soft you are around his fingers. Your walls pulse with each thrust of his fingers, feeling each squeeze travel to his hard cock. 

Phillip wants to be gentle with you, he wants to learn and explore every inch of your body with his tongue, hands, and eyes. He wants to know what makes those pretty whimpers escape your throat, what makes you nice and creamy for him. Your hips can’t stop twisting against his tongue and fingers. Graves laughs against your pussy. 

“Needy girl, aren’t you.” 

“Yes, yes, yes.” 

Phillip makes his tongue rigid and attacks your clit with harsh licks. He loves how quick you are to grip and pull his hair. The noises throughout the office are obscene, his moans mingling with yours along with the wet squelch of his fingers in your pussy. Graves uses his free hand to move your grip from his hair, leaning back to take a look at the gorgeous sight before him. 

He stops the thrusts of his fingers to land slaps on your swollen, glistening pussy. You yelp from the sting, each slap landing directly on your clit. He plunges his fingers back in, finding the spongy spot inside of you with a curl of his two fingers. 

“Come on baby, give your Commander what he wants.” 

You can’t take it anymore. Your back arches on the desk and your mouth falls open in a scream. Your vision goes blurry, the hot pleasure beginning in your core until it spreads throughout your entire body. Your tummy clenches from the orgasm and you squeeze down on his fingers. 

Phillip lets out a husky moan while licking your clit as your walls flutter around the thrust of his fingers, the taste of your slick etching into his mind. He slows his movements and finally stops, letting your thighs close from the overstimulation. Phillip stands and brings his fingers up to his mouth to suck off your juices from his fingers. 

“So sweet for such a rude girl.” 

Phillip drags his pants down, only moving his briefs to rest below his heavy balls. He removed\s his shirt and throws it to the closest chair. Phillip wants to feel your naked skin on his own. He hooks your leg around his waist and slaps your ass to get your attention again. You lie on the desk with your eyes half closed, trying to regain your senses and feeling in your limp body. 

Graves drags the tip of his hard cock up and down your wet pussy. He can’t resist thrusting against your wet folds, your pussy opening for him like flower petals. You feel extremely empty at that moment. You want Graves to fill you up and stretch you. Your hips move in small circles, feeling the underside of his cock slide against your heat. 

“Please Commander, please, please. I want you inside of me.”

Phillip hums, ”I don’t know. You’ve been so naughty all this time. Do bad girls who disrespect their Commander deserve this?” He takes that moment to plunge only the tip in before dragging it out to spread your folds.

You’re close to tears at this point, your nails digging into his hard back trying to push him into you. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you babble, ”just please fuck me, Commander.” 

You have nothing to apologize for, Phillip just wants to tease you and have you begging for his cock. He takes that moment to push in the thick tip and give a deep plunge inside. You’re hot and creamy and soft and all around him, Phillip almost collapsing from the pleasure. You’re left speechless for the first time in your life, your mouth dropping open in a silent scream as you feel stretched to your limit. 

Phillip slowly slides out and watches your inner lips grip his cock, your body not wanting him to leave. He slowly pushes in and out to familiarize himself with your tight heat. You begin to drag your nails up and down his lower back as Graves moves a hand to grip your thigh and another to roughly squeeze your tit. 

“How’s that baby? You like it?” 

“So good, sir. So fucking good.” 

You can barely form a thought, but manage to whimper out a response. His thrusts speed up, sweet words falling from his lips with each squeeze and pulse of your pussy. Graves calls you a naughty girl or tells you how exquisite you feel around him. He leans over to place kisses along your forehead, nose, cheeks, and lips. You suck and bite his bottom lip when one particular thrust hits your g-spot perfectly. 

Phillip wants more. He speeds up his thrusts and moves your thigh with both hands to plunge in deeper. The new position makes you see stars. He manages to thrust into the hilt and drag his tip against the spongy spot inside of you with each slide. Phillip can feel his orgasm approaching. His thrusts become sloppy and his grip on your thigh becomes tighter. 

“Nothing to say to me now, huh?” 

You really don’t. Your mind is only focused on how full you are and how you never want it to end. Phillip turns to look down and fixes his gaze on his cock hammering into your swollen pussy. He begins swiping his thumb over your clit, wanting to give you one more orgasm as he quickly nears his own. 

Once again you feel an orgasm wash over you and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Phillip gives another thrust and his heavy balls pulse as he shoots thick ropes of cum inside your already stuffed pussy. His breath stutters in his throat and he grips your thighs. Graves collapses on top of you, his hips continuing with short, rough movements. 

Both of your bodies are slick with perspiration. You stroke light fingers along his back and through his hair as you both regain control of your breathing. He peppers kisses along your neck and up to your lips.

“Guess I should let the driver know it’ll be a while until you leave, right?” 

You let out a soft giggle, ”I think that’ll be a good idea, Commander.” 

“Call me Phillip.” 

You reach to caress the muscles on his chest as he slowly stands to full height again, moaning as he hardens in you again.

[monamourbladie]

hi!! <3 im the anon who req the dan heng headcanons.. TYSM IT WAS AMAZING!!! OmG OMG OMG best idea ever. well not best idea ever. but imagine like blade is super distant and cold towards you as he normally is, right? but he secretly likes the reader for plot purposes. but one day, the reader is js like "oh well" and talks to someone else for a change, having fun w the other person instead of blade since blade 'doesnt' like them. would blade just stand there and watch knowing he cant rightfully do anything since it was partly his fault (and he has too much pride for himself), or would he try to get you to talk to him again?

HI ANON AHH tysm for the requests :D i’m glad you enjoyed it so much~! that’s a great idea i was so excited to write this one i tried to write it as fast as possible LOL

Secretly Loves You - Blade x F!reader

warnings: none~

You had been apart of the Stellaron Hunters for about a year now. You had grown the closest with Silver Wolf, as you both shared an intense love of games. You were picked up from their time on the Xianzhou Luofu for your healing capabilities and quickly became a core member of the crew.

Elio liked you and so did Sam, Silver Wolf adored you and Kafka respected you. But the person who you wanted to like you the most seemed to despise you.

Blade — Kafka’s golden boy (you always swore they had something for each other, but neither ever confirmed it and nobody could guess if they were together or not) Fierceness aside, he was absolute eye candy to you.

Blade was extremely closed off — it’s been like that since day one. It took him months and months to warm up to Silver Wolf (and now he treats her like an irritating little sister that he secretly adores but claims he hates), and even though it’s been almost a full year, you haven’t been able to break through to him just yet.

You didn’t exactly know why. It wasn’t like he was talkative and excitable to everyone else by any means, but he definitely showed at least some kind of enjoyment speaking with people. With you? It seemed like he absolutely hated you.

Maybe it was the fact that he hated being nursed back to health due to him wanting to die so badly. You never understood that, and were just simply doing your job to protect him.

You’ve lost count by now of how many times he complained to you about helping him was unnecessary. It irritated you, but you always smiled at him and told him you were just doing your job.

“I told you, I don’t need your help,” he grunted as you rubbed special Xianzhou healing oils on his back. You bit your lip as you continued to massage it into his skin, “Do you ever not complain?” you said teasingly as you pat his back playfully.

He only grunted in response. He hated having you see him like this. He was shirtless on the med bay table, sitting up with his chest bandage off for once. His upper chest was heavily scarred and destroyed from all the times Jingliu killed him over and over again. The first time you saw those wounds, you were determined to try and heal them so he wasn’t forced to wear as many bandages on the daily.

You were using special Xianzhou healing oils to increase the healing speed — and within a few months, you were noticing small bits of healthier skin, showing it was working.

“Complain all you want, Bladie, but it’s actually working to help you.” He glanced back at her with a glare, “I told you not to call me that, L/n.” His voice was bitter and cold as always to you.

It hurt, but eventually you grew thicker skin to it. It hurt especially because over the months you began to harbor a nasty crush on the immortal man.

Silver Wolf loved to tease you about it, and swore she would help get you two together. But little interactions like these with Blade helped cement in your mind that there was no way he saw you as anything more than an annoying healer.

What you didn’t know was that Blade actually harbored feelings for you, too.

Due to his painful past, he was very adamant about not getting close to anyone again out of fear he’d lose everyone he loves again — especially a lover.

He thought you were absolutely beautiful. He secretly loved the extra attention you were giving him, and although he wanted nothing more than eternal rest, he was thankful that you were giving him a distraction from the pain.

He just had no idea how to tell you. He had a reputation with the Hunters as being the cold and brooding one. He definitely wasn’t sure how to approach a girl he liked and say “Hey, I like you” without feeling like an absolute pathetic fool.

It stayed this way for months. Neither of you saying anything to the other that would let the other know you like each other. Until eventually, a new member on the medical team started to work for the Hunters — a man named Leon.

Leon was everything Blade was hoping he could be for you. He was handsome, he was nice, gentlemanly — he was attentive to you and could speak his heart. You and him quickly became close, and there were even some moments where Leon took care of Blade instead of you.

He absolutely was growing jealous over the man. Some nights Blade wondered if he could just kill Leon and get on with it and swoop you off of your feet, but being a romantic was not Blade’s strong suit by any means.

His final straw finally made him snap to go to Kafka for advice. After his weekly checkup with you, he got home and realized his bandages weren’t tight enough around his chest, so he had to go back to the med bay. As he walked back to the med bay he froze, seeing you kissing Leon from a distance.

He felt his anger consume him and he decided to just deal with the loose bandage and fix it himself. He stormed off as he felt the Mara flare up within him, making him angrier than he normally would’ve been.

Of course you’re moving on. Why wouldn’t you? He never made any move on you to let you know he liked you. Why would you risk waiting around when a perfect man for you was right there?

Blade found himself at Kafka’s door as he knocked. She opened it and frowned seeing Blade angry, “Bladie? What’s wrong?” she asked.

Blade pushed himself in the door and slammed it behind him, huffing in frustration, “Can I just fucking kill Leon already?”

Kafka raised as brow as she motioned for him to sit down on her couch. “You can’t kill the rookie. Why do you want to?”

Blade unbuttoned his shirt and jacket and slid it off of his arms, revealing his bandaged chest. “Can you fix these for me? Y/n’s too busy getting fucked to deal with it.”

Kafka bit her lip as she smirked. “Am i sensing jealousy from you? Over Y/n and the rookie?”

He grumbled as he shook his head, running his fingers through his tousled hair, “Would you just leave it and fix this shit for me?”

Kafka raised her hands in defense as she sat behind him, beginning to unravel the bandages. “You just want it tighter, right?”

“Yes,” he muttered, looking out at the photo of them all on her wall.

Blade, Elio, Sam, Silver Wolf, Kafka, and Y/n were in it. He felt his heart ache seeing her so happy beside Silver Wolf. She looked just as happy in the photo as she did leaning in to kiss Leon.

The image of them kissing was seared in his brain, and it made him angrier the more he thought of it.

Kafka, whose used her Spirit Whisper on Blade long enough to understand when he was angry, rest her hand on his shoulder. “Blade. Talk with me. Why are you so angry right now?” she asked, her voice gentle with him.

He was silent for a moment before realizing this might be his only shot for help. He sighed, “…It’s about Y/n. I… I like her,” he said, his gravelly voice low and soft as he spoke. Kafka was the only person he felt comfortable opening up around.

“And I’m angry that she can’t see that. She knows I have a hard time expressing myself. So why couldn’t she tell?” Kafka unintentionally let out a laugh at his commentary.

He turned around, glancing back at her confused, “You’re laughing at me? Seriously, Kafka?”

“No — it’s just… have you even attempted to tell her that you like her? Everything I ever see, you’re ignoring her, glaring at her when her back is turned, and badmouthing her whenever you’re alone with her and she’s patching you up. It hurts her, Bladie. I refuse to believe that you think you’ve made your feelings clear,” she replied.

Blade blinked in confusion. “But I like her. I don’t treat anyone differently than that.”

“Are you even aware of how many people think we’re dating?” Kafka asked him. “I’m sure she thinks we’re dating, too. She probably gave up and moved on with that rookie.”

“Gave up? Does she like me too?” Blade asked quickly, feeling a slight glimmer of hope. Kafka shrugged, “It’s so obvious. She definitely gave up trying since you made no effort to show you were interested.”

“Well — help me out, what am I supposed to do now? Did I fuck up already and lose her to that damn rookie?” he asked her.

Kafka sighed, sitting back against the couch. “I don’t know. I’d recommend asking her tomorrow and just pray that you have a chance still. I know you really like her.”

Blade grumbled at this and nodded, grasping at his shirt and sliding it back on over his head now that Kafka had finished bandaging him up.

“Yeah, well. I don’t know if I’m that lucky. She was kissing him and seemed to be very happy with it,” he said with a bitter tone. “Thanks.”

“If it comes to it, I can always pull strings and check with Elio-“

“No,” he said firmly, standing up to leave. “I don’t want to know the answer.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The next day sometime after lunch, Blade headed to the cafeteria with his heart pounding. He had never felt this anxious before, not for a long, long time.

Just tell her you like her. She’s just confused, that’s all. It’ll be fine…

He saw you sitting alone at one of the cafeteria benches, obviously on your lunch break. He took in a breath and walked over, sitting across from you.

You looked up from your data pad and smiled, “Hi, Blade. Did you need me to fix your bandages already?” you asked sweetly.

He was embarrassed that he felt his cheeks burn from the kindness in your voice. “No. That won’t be necessary. Kafka fixed them last night.”

Your smile visibly fell a bit and Blade cringed at himself. “Oh, Kafka… right. Well, what did you need?”

“I’m not with Kafka,” he said quickly. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“Wrong idea?” you raised a brow, curious as to where he was going. “Wrong idea about… you and Kafka?” you muttered. He could sense a bit of irritancy on your end at the thought of them together.

“Right. We’re not. But… you and that Rookie. Leon, right? Are you?” he questioned. You seemed surprised that he asked and you let out a soft nervous laugh, “W-well, no… but. I mean, it’s complicated, I guess.” you took a sip of your drink as Blade tensed up.

“I want us to be, because the guy I like really, really doesn’t like me. So I’m just cutting my losses and trying to move on, I guess. It just so happens Leon has an interest in me. I’m just anxious to make the jump,” you confessed. There was no way he’d figure out it was him, so you felt comfortable saying it.

“Don’t,” Blade quickly said. “Don’t date Leon.” You furrowed your brows at him, “I’m sorry, why do you care? As far as I’m aware, you hate being around me. Quite frankly, I’m shocked you’re even speaking to me right now.”

Blade felt offended that you believed so strongly that he hated you. “You think I hate you? Why the hell do you think that?” he questioned.

“Because you’re always so cold and closed off towards me! You always are grumpy whenever you have to speak to me and have me work on you, you’re closed off and never speak to me unless you absolutely have to, and it honestly hurts! I don’t know why you treat me this way, but I’m tired of it.”

Blade felt like a total idiot hearing you open up like that. Kafka really was right…

“I don’t… I don’t hate you,” he said quietly, averting his eyes out of embarrassment. “I like you, Y/n. I just had no idea how to deal with it. I figured you’d just… know.”

You couldn’t help your eyes widen at his confession. “You mean to tell me this entire time I’ve been trying to get over you, you just assumed I knew you liked me?” you gawked.

“Yes?” Blade replied. It was so obvious that he was so, so bad at relationships but clearly was trying hard. You could only giggle at this, shaking your head. “Jesus, Blade, you’re really something, aren’t you?”

Blade wasn’t really so sure how to answer your comment. You started to smile, “So, since you don’t want me to go out with Leon… I’m assuming you want to take me out on a date instead, right?” you asked.

Blade felt his cheeks flush again as he nodded, “I would love to.”

You smiled and stood up, walking over to him and leaning in. “I get off of work in 4 hours. Meet me at my room at 6, okay?” you said, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

You were shocked to see the man actually blush at your action. He looked up at you with a smile and nodded, “…Okay. I’ll see you at 6.”

[gay4abby]

hii can i request pls something like reader hears someone in the hallways saying that she is too clingy that jordan must hate it and then she try change her demeanor and jordan be like ?????? wtf ?????? come back to me ???????

this is really adorable, ask n u shall receive (sorry this was so late n if it’s bad) no warnings & not proofread! feedback appreciated but not obligated

Jordan and you were a force to be reckoned with at Godlkin University. Everyone and their momma knew about the two of you. There was never coming in between you two, as Jordan would say. They never liked it when someone made comments about their relationship because they will just be on the receiving end of their fists.

You were walking from class one sunny day, the campus bustling with lively students as it was the end of the week. Parties were going to be attended, drugs were most likely going to be consumed and you were all for it, minus the drugs. Probably. You didn’t know yet ‘cause you swore to yourself you were going to try anything once. Maybe twice if it was really good.

Jordan had texted you to meet them at their dorm since classes were pretty much over for the day. It was routine for the both of you to meet up on Friday’s. If you lot were attending a party, you would get ready at their dorm to save time and the trouble of meeting up with one another. You guys were always attached at the hip.

On the other end, though, if there was nothing going on or you both just wanted a night in after being bombarded with assignment after assignment, that was arranged too. Nevertheless, you guys were never not seen without each other and Cait even made a comment once that you both were literally intertwined by brain matter. Jordan was just your soulmate and you to them.

But you always had your fair share of disdain from those who wanted Jordan for themselves. You tried to ignore it because Jordan’s actions would always prove otherwise, but you couldn’t help that small voice at the back of your head telling you that it was all just a farce and that Jordan was waiting for the other shoe to drop to finally let you go.

The voice was mean.

The trek to Jordan’s dorm was a walk. Your last class on Friday’s usually had you thrown on the other side of campus so you were always grateful to reach Jordan’s room and they were ready to take care of you. Especially after walking so long, “My baby’s gotta relax somehow,” they’d say with a cheesy smile. On hot days, you worshipped the ground they walked on.

That’s why it was so hard to believe that Jordan did not feel any other way about you besides being absolutely enamoured with you. So there were days where you felt like you both were unbreakable, but there are times where it feels the opposite.

You had just crossed the middle area of the campus, halfway to Jordan’s bed when you were sucked into a conversation you preferred not to hear. It was a couple students just straggling by. They hadn’t noticed your presence, but that was common whenever you weren’t with Jordan and honestly? You preferred it that way. The attention was never a necessity to you. Not even the rankings; you didn’t judge others for caring too much, though. Jordan found that refreshing about you.

“I don’t even know what Jordan sees in them. It’s strange. Very low ranking and they’re always on their arm!” One of the girls said. Her voice was laced with such venom, it made you want to curl up into a ball and die.

“Pathetic. It seems controlling, clingy. Like if Jordan wasn’t in their line of vision someone’s going to whisk him away.” Another said; you peered over without turning your head to see the disdain on their features. It made your heart hurt to know that this is how they thought of you.

It was Jordan who always made sure you didn’t hear these types of things because they hear them. And it’s never pretty for the person who says it. You pulled out your phone as soon as you were out of earshot from them. You were so close to Jordan’s place, but decided to take a detour instead towards the library. You had an overdue assignment anyway.

Is that how Jordan feels?

Jordan has received your text of cancellation and was bewildered by the fact that you even had the nerve to cancel on her. She was actually offended by the nature of the text as well, the tone throwing her through a loop.

can’t make it today, stuff to do. rain check?

Rain check, my ass! Jordan thought as she pulled up your location to see that it was turned off. “What the fuck?” She was furious. Dialling and redialling your number, but it going straight to voicemail. How rude!Nothing came between Friday tradition. Absolutely nothing. You never cancelled. For God’s sake if you were sick you made sure to keep your distance, but never cancelled! So to think that you were quick to muster up that text when you were just minutes from their place was suspicious to Jordan.

They knew you all too well.

Instead of moping about it, Jordan decided to track you down. Your location was always on for her, so it kind of alarmed her that you turned that off after texting her. It’s Friday so that meant it was going to be pretty busy this weekend on campus. You would want to avoid all that. Crowds weren’t your forte, Jordan denounced so the options were: the campus café, your dorm or the library. They were going to check all three.

Since your dorm was closer, that was the first stop. Your floor wasn’t all that busy since, again, it’s Friday so no one was going to really be hanging out in isolation. The number five ranking student racked her fists against your door in a rhythm only you would know, but there was no answer. She pressed her ear to the door, hearing absolutely nothing but the wind that was coming through your open window. Dorm, check but you’re not there. Campus café it is.

Okay, you weren’t there either, but that’s fine! Jordan will find you and when he does he’s most definitely going to dig your ear in for cancelling. Like that’s just not okay!

The library was across campus so it was going to be a trek. Why the fuck is this campus so ginormous? Whatever! The mission is you! And to get to the bottom of what’s bothering you. So on the Supe went.

Jordan never frequented the library because he didn’t need to. He was smart as a bottlenose dolphin, studying was for chumps. But not you, no, you’re not a chump he would tell you whenever you asked if he was going to study and he would reply with that. Your dynamic with the Supe was so different, it’s why you were so drawn to each other.

The building was right ahead as he quickened his pace. Jordan’s heart was beating out of his chest, so much so he didn’t realise he shifted to his female form. The only focus they had was to find you and ask why’d you cancel. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

“Babe!”

“Shhh!!!” The librarian tossed at the bob haired girl. Jordan waved her off as she spotted the head of hair peeking from behind the couches. You were so engrossed in your reading that you hadn’t realised the Supe had sat next to you, stern expression shooting daggers at you. She moved the book from your vision finally gaining your attention.

You were shocked to see her that’s for sure. “What are you doing here? You never come into the library?”

“That’s besides the point. Why’d you cancel on our Friday hangout?” The pout that adorned the upperclassmen’s face was sure to melt an entire freezer full of ice cream. It was the one weakness you had against Jordan and you never appreciated it when they used it (almost never, anyway). “Not here, Jordan.”

“Jordan?! My government name, baby? Something’s wrong. Did I do something wrong?” Her beady, brown eyes flickered between yours as she tried to gouge out exactly what was going on in that pretty head of yours. You couldn’t stand seeing them so distraught, but you couldn’t help but remember that you didn’t want to come off as clingy. ‘Cause that’s definitely something that bothers Jordan…right?

Taking too long to answer, Jordan gathered your study tools, shoving them into your bag despite your protests. The two of you were making too much noise to even stay in the library. Defeated, you followed your lover out with sunken shoulders. Why were they so hell bent on finding out what’s wrong? You were a nuisance! Jordan wasn’t in the wrong, it was you! Right?

“Now I can talk as loudly as I want. What the fuck is going on, babe? You never cancel our plans. That’s like the one rule is that we don’t cancel.”

You didn’t really know what to say. Didn’t know how to address what was bothering you. Honesty was something that you both valued in your relationship, but you couldn’t help but feel like a burden sometimes because of your status. You were nothing compared to Jordan. The star pupil of the school. The most valued member of the upcoming Supe society. It was hard not to compare yourself to them.

Jordan will never know that, though. At least not until today. “Don’t go quiet on me, please. I hate that something’s bothering you. I just wanna fix it.” Slinging your backpack on to their shoulder, she pulled you towards a bench that was on the walkway of the library. Her touch brought you some ease, it almost made you forget how you were feeling. Almost.

“So help me, I will get Cait if you don’t speak.”

“Okay! Okay. Just, don’t get upset okay?” You made her promise she wouldn’t. And to ease your anxiousness, she agreed.

“You didn’t do anything. I…I was on my way to you. And then I heard a couple of girls talking about us and I kinda got insecure.”

Jordan tried to hold back whatever outburst that was threatening to peak out. They absolutely hated it when people spoke about their relationship, but she hated it even more when you managed to hear it. She tried her best to shield you from those remarks and she was successful for a bit, but when you’re not together it was hard to avoid that.

Jordan sighed, calming down a bit as she heard what you had to say. Her anger was simmering, waiting to be ignited by the very person who said those cruel things. She wanted nothing more than to rid of them of this Earth because they made you feel insecure. About your own relationship! A relationship they knew nothing about.

“C’mere…” she said softly, reaching out to you. She didn’t care if you guys were in public, she wanted the whole world to know that you and her are not to be messed with.

“Don’t listen to those assholes. I love it when you’re clingy. It makes me feel wanted and needed. You don’t know how much it does to me, babe.”

You let her words sink in, any thought of those girls’ words completely erased from your mind and in replacement was Jordan. Just thoughts of Jordan. Her arms being around you and your head tucked cutely into her neck, all she wanted to do was teleport you both back to her dorm. “I don’t want you to ever believe a word that comes out of someone’s mouth about us okay? If it’s not from me, it’s not true.

“You hear me?”

“Yeah…Jordy, I hear you.” Jordan couldn’t hold back the smile that graced her lips, cheeks plumped and red. “There’s my baby. You calling me by my government name is…it feels like the start of an apocalypse.”

“Okay, miss dramatic.”

“It’s true!”