#barely stretching his arm at all to maneuver it. terrible. even if it was at his hip that would be awkward as fuck to do

[raparopa]

could you do Tolya Yul-Bataar x Grisha!fem!reader

you walk around the ballroom, you simply trip that someone was holding your waist it was Tolya, you apologize, you seem so nervous to see him but he very kind to you, so you two talk and lots of chemistry together *fluffiness*

(hope you will write it, thanks and have a lovely day)

a/n: I continue the marathon

warnings: alcohol

pairing: Tolya Yul-Bataar x reader

lady tidemaker

I really love the balls that the Lantsov family has always arranged. It was one of the great advantages of friendship with Nikolai, when you can freely have fun and have a good time during noisy holidays; walk the golden halls and dance with the lords or other Grisha.

And tonight was great. Nikolai returned, he was no longer called Sturmhond, he brought with him the Sun Summoner and now we could not sit out in observatory, hiding from Vasily's tyranny.

I grabbed a glass of champagne from one table, looking at my reflection in the cloche, admiring how beautiful my blue and blue caftan looks in this gold madness. The drink was sweet in taste, with small bubbles and a fruity aroma. I greeted and nodded to the Grisha, chatted with Nadia, even got to know Alina better, who turned out to be a very nice girl; I even managed to exchange a few words with Nikolai and scold him for disappearing somewhere for so long and not even sending a message.

I was glad, calm and a little drunk on good champagne. But who cares, right?

I walked around the hall until some lady blocked my way with her huge, pink dress, the train of which trailed behind her like a peacock's tail. I tried to make a clever maneuver so as not to run into this (wonderful) woman, but my legs had already decided everything for me: the heel treacherously slid on the pink fabric of the hem, and I barely had time to squeak something and mentally prepare for the fall as ...

Nothing happened? The only thing I heard was a splash: the champagne from my glass was on the floor.

I could hardly exhale: someone held me by the arms so easily, as if I were a feather. When I opened my eyes, I saw no one in front of me, but the voice of my savior came from behind.

-Is everything all right, tidemaker? - they asked me with a sneer, returning to a vertical position. I awkwardly turned to look at my savior and realized that I was feeling bad and good at the same time.

Tolya Yul-Bataar.

Oh no. Oh no. OH NO NO NO. My heart skipped a beat and then pounded like a drum.

Of course I knew who it was. I saw him and his sister next to Nikolai when they arrived. But close he was... Saints...

-Yes, thank you,- I said, not knowing where to put my hands and an empty glass. He silently looked at me for a moment, and then his smile turned a little sad.

-You got scared? Your heart ... - he put his hand to his chest, on the side of his heart. I blinked incomprehensibly. - Beats harder, faster than before. Are you sure you're alright, torrential? -he said, looking at me worriedly. I wanted to answer him, but his words made me think for a moment, and then my lips stretched into a sly smile.

-Sounds like you've been following my heart all evening,- I teased. Tolya's face fell for a moment, and then he laughed, awkwardly rubbing his neck.

-Y/N. - I said, holding out my free hand to him.

-Tolya,- he answered, shaking my hand. He had strong, but surprisingly soft and light hands. -Very glad to meet you, Y/N.

- Mutually. - I smiled. Why are my cheeks and ears burning so insanely?! - How do you like the evening?

Tolya shrugged.

-Now she has become much more charming Y/N. Even the appetizers are not so terrible. And the champagne is quite good.

I giggled at his words.

- Champagne is excellent. - I answered, twirling an empty glass in my hand. - It's a pity that now the floor will enjoy it, and not me. Thanks to that beautiful lady in the wonderful pink dress. I nodded my head at the culprit of our acquaintance, who now flickered at the other end of the hall.

Tolya laughed heartily.

Saints, are all heartrenders so adorable?

-I think the champagne problem is easy to fix. Unless, of course, the lady will allow me? - He bowed theatrically to me, winking playfully.

-ABOUT! Please! - I waved away embarrassedly. - I'm not a lady at all. Not at all. I doubt that Grisha can even be called a lady. - I justified myself, which undoubtedly amused Tolya again.

-Still, will you allow me to supply you with champagne again?

- How much help in one evening, Tolya.

-I like to help people. Especially so charming. Lady tidemaker.

[readyforthegarden]

I posted 7,886 times in 2022

That's 7,855 more posts than 2021!

1,619 posts created (21%)

6,267 posts reblogged (79%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@lunaindigoraven

@shutupdevvie

@joshkiszkas

@s0livagant

@dannythedog

I tagged 4,584 of my posts in 2022

Only 42% of my posts had no tags

#my asks - 604 posts

#q - 341 posts

#fic rec - 207 posts

#😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈 - 197 posts

#🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠 - 185 posts

#greta van fleet - 129 posts

#😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈 - 104 posts

#greta van fleet imagine - 97 posts

#😇😇😇😇😇😇😇😇😇😇 - 94 posts

#😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 - 85 posts

Longest Tag: 124 characters

#😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Masterlist

Here's a quick and easy link to my fics! Enjoy! Masterlist headers by the one and only @capturethechaos 💖

Taglist

(Updated 12/06/2022)

❉ = smut ❀= fluff ▲= angst

Sam

50 Wordless Ways to Say 'I Love You' WIP

Summer in the City Multi-part, Complete ❉

All Nighter ❉

Can't Get Enough of You ❀❉

Quick Dessert ❉

Unnamed Sam Fluff ❀

Poetry and Promises ❀

Grow Some Balls ❀

Thanks for Protecting Me ❀

Am I Allowed to Stay the Night? ❀❉

Do You Think That This, Us, Could Be More? ❀

If I Kissed You ❀

Crush ❀

I Do Love You ❀▲

You’re Important to Me ❀

Puppy Love ❀

You Can't Act Like There's Nothing Wrong ▲

Five Minutes ❉

Snuggle Me Under the Tree ❀

Step into Christmas ❀▲

See the full post

260 notes - Posted January 23, 2022

#4

Can't Get Enough of You

Based on the prompts from the lovely @screechesincoherently "i can’t get enough of you." / "you could never hurt me." with sam

A/N: This shit hurt, yo. Also I think I'm going to take a brief break from prompts and smut. Just for a bit. I promise I'll be back to keep y'all fed.

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI! Sensual fluffy smut. If you're a Sam babe, this is gonna wreck ya.

The warmth was what woke you from your deep slumber. A body pressed impossibly close to yours, palms flat your torso to hold you in place. A nose embedded into the hair at the nape of your neck, further warming your bare skin under the duvet. Your tired body stretched to the best of its abilities in this position, and you gently laughed as the arms around you pulled you in even tighter, a small, dissatisfied groan humming from the back of his throat.

“Stay here.” Sam mumbled softly, still half asleep. The bedroom was still dark, just a few patches of moonbeams sneaking through the slats of your blinds. He’d been home from tour for only a week, and you admittedly felt guilty, having had a full schedule the whole time, ending up crashing by 9pm, half your dinner still on your plate. You knew Sam missed you terribly, and you missed him just the same. You’d made sure that last night was the night he wanted since he’d been back. A simple, home-cooked meal, his favorite records on the smart speakers, and deep purple silky, barely there slip dress that always drove him wild with lust and passion.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” you whispered, gently placing your hands over his. “I’m right here.” Sam snuggled into your back even more, his soft, plush lips pressing lingering kisses along your shoulder. His hands gripped at your stomach, and you felt the all too familiar prodding against the back of your thigh as his hips softly, lazily rocked against you. “Sam, how are you not exhausted?” he simply rolled you over onto your back, attaching his lips to your in a slow, deep kiss. One of his large hands was cupping your face while he maneuvered his body on top of yours, and you understood what he needed. The hours before had been rough, fast and frenzied. Sloppy and desperate, as the two of you joined together for the first time in a long time.

“I can’t get enough of you.” Sam murmured in your ear, pressing a warm kiss just under your earlobe. “I want all of you, baby.” Humming, you ran your hands down his back, dragging your nails gently, getting the shiver from him you wanted. With a few short movements, Sam was nestled between your thighs, hands pressing them into the mattress and his tongue giving you a long, flat lick. Your head fell back into your pillow, eyes closing at the slow tingles of electricity that coursed through your veins and Sam took his time with you. You felt as if his goal wasn’t just to pleasure you, but to taste as much of you as he could. The little sighs that fell from your mouth were like praises to him, and the soft jolt of your hips as his lips closed around your still sensitive clit filled him with pride.

“Sam, baby that feels so good.” you breathed, your hand running through his hair. You made sure to push it back from his face so you could watch him, his eyes flicking up to as his tongue lapped against your skin. The intensity of his lust-blown brown eyes was nearly enough to push you over the edge right there. He knew you were getting close from your squirming and deftly slipped his middle and index fingers inside of you, pumping as your walls clenched around him. “Oh god baby, yeeess..” Sam worked you through your orgasm, lapping up every drop he could before climbing back up your body, engaging you in a steamy kiss. You tasted yourself on his lips and tongue, gasping sharply into his kiss as he glided his cock into your soaked center.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, breaking away from the kiss, staring down at you in concern. You stared up at your love, his eyebrows furrowed, body tensed as he held himself above you. Shaking your head, you reached up a hand and cupped his face, bringing his forehead to rest against yours.

“You could never hurt me.” you assured him softly, bringing your lips to his again. Sam’s body unfroze, his hips beginning to thrust against yours, slowly. He was drawing out his movements as his tongue lapped with yours, as if he was savoring every touch. You hooked your legs around his hips, urging this long thrusts a bit deeper, moaning as his lips sucked at your neck and collarbone. Sam’s hips started to pick up the pace as he rested his weight on you. His arms sliding under you against the sheets and cradling you to him. Your breathing was labored, whether from the weight of your lover on top of you or another impending orgasm, you weren’t quite sure. All you knew was no matter how wild, rough and tumble, or kinky the two of you could get together, Sam making love to you was your best and most favorite of the flavors he offered.

Sam’s soft moans in your ear urged you to lift your hips to meet his, whispering in his ear how good it felt and how close you were. Sam groaned, feeling your walls begin to clench around his cock. His hand slid up your back and cradled the back of your head, kissing you again as his hips stuttered against yours. “Fuck baby, I love you so much.” he sighed against your lips. You gripped onto his shoulders, finding your release again through his shallow pumping.

Sam dragged the tip of his nose across your cheek as he caught his breath and stilled his body. The intimacy that dripped with every touch of his skin against yours was overwhelming in the best way. There are the moments you wished you could drown in, no matter how much you loved the goofy side to him, the genius side of him, or the badass rockstar side of him. Sam’s gentle, sensual soft side was always there, but it was always reserved for just the two of you. You reveled in it selfishly, knowing few, if any others, would get to ever experience him this way.

After a few moments, Sam unwrapped himself from you, laying down closely beside you, stretching out his arms, getting the blood pumping back through them. You rested a hand over your chest, feeling your heart beat against it, counting the beats and trying to regulate your breathing. Once you felt like your legs weren’t completely made of jelly, you got up from the bed, heading to the bathroom to clean yourself up. Once you came back, Sam was on his side, patting your empty spot on the bed. You hurried over and crawled back under the covers, letting him wrap his arms and the duvet around you once more, and finally letting you both drift off to sleep, getting some much deserved rest.

298 notes - Posted February 19, 2022

#3

Shots

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Reader

A/N: Once again, this is @cal-a-bungaa's fault. Please give her praise for filling my head with ideas.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!! MINORS DNI!! Smut, slight spit kink, Drinking, mentions of bodily fluids, etc.

The bar was crowded and loud tonight, a few too many bachelorette parties going crazy on either side of the room, and the regulars and the tourists were intermingled more than they'd like to be. But none of that mattered. What mattered was the contest going on between you and Josh. Your best friends, his brothers, on either side of the two of you, counting down the shots in front of you both, just as rowdy, if not more than the young women with various phallic-shaped accessories around the bar.

"You’re a bitch, Josh," you breathed out raggedly between one of the shots. "and you're fucking going down." you threw back another whiskey shot, fighting the grimace as the burn ravaged your throat.

"Shots fired, literally!" Sam whooped from behind you. He and Danny were always in your corner for these types of things.

"Such filth coming from such a pretty young lady." Josh chided. "Your mother would faint hearing you talk like that." you rolled your eyes, taking another shot. Three down, three to go. Josh only had two down, but was well on his way to downing the third.

"Come on Y/N, don't let him win." Danny goaded you on as you lifted the fourth one to your lips, the smell of the alcohol making your stomach churn already. "Take the cocky bastard down!"

"For you, Danny." you raised the glass to him before knocking it back, slamming the glass on the bar. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw as Josh, with instruction from Jake, pick up two shots at one time and pour them in his mouth. "Fuck off, that's cheating!"

"Is not!" Jake called out, leaning across Josh. Sam leaned across you and argued with his older brother as you slammed back the next two shots at the same time too, nearly gagging as you set the glasses back down.

"Which one of you assholes chose fireball as the last shot?" you groaned. While it wasn't a bad drink, it was definitely a flavor that you'd come to associate with certain memories, memories of fumbling hands and messy kisses with a certain curly-headed friend. It was no secret that when intoxicated, you and Josh got handsy and intimate with each other. Your drunken minds acting on the thoughts your sober selves were too scared to initiate.

“You know it was me.” Josh smiled smugly, tossing back the last of his row, smacking his lips like it was candy to him. You rolled your eyes, regretting the decision as the alcohol started to catch up to you. You swayed on the barstool, and Sam snaked an arm around your waist, making sure you didn’t tip over.

“Looks like our girl won.” He smiled sweetly as his two older brothers. “You owe us one hundred dollars.” Both brothers grumbled as they took their wallets out, each slamming a fifty dollar bill on the sticky bar top. Sam reached over and swiped them almost instantly, handing one bill to Danny and pocketing the other.

“Hey, I did all the work, where’s my cut?” frowning at Sam, he just tapped your nose with the tip of his index finger.

“I paid for the shots, you got drunk for free tonight.” You mulled over his words in your mind, then shrugged.

“Shokay with me.”

As the night wore on you and your friends had separated. You and Sam had somehow joined one of the bachelorette parties, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his wearing a cowboy hat with a penis on it, as you yourself sipped water from a phallic shaped straw. Draining the glass, you let Sam know you were heading to the bar to grab another water, and on your way passed Jake and Danny, who were talking with a group of locals you’d seen here a few times.

Sidling up to the bar, you waited for the bartender to come and take your order, chewing on the straw in your mouth as you did. When the bartender came over, he placed a water in front of you, and a clear shot. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Tequila shot. From the gentleman across the bar.” He informed you, nodding his head behind him. You glance up and see Josh, staring at you with a smirk. Not just a smirk. The smirk. The one that always got you in trouble together. He raised his own shot in salute to you, and you followed suit, taking the straw out of your mouth and knocking it back. By now, you were used to the sting of the hard beverage, but you crinkled your nose anyway, knowing it drove Josh crazy.

“Come around here often, pretty girl?” he had made his way around the bar, leaning against it next to you now.

“I’m here with my friends tonight.” you answer, playing shy. He nodded, and signaled the bartender for another shot of tequila.

“You the one getting married?” He asked, playing along. You took the straw from your mouth again and shrugged at him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You winked. “Maybe I am, and I’m looking for one last good fuck from a stranger at the bar. To get it out of my system, you know?”

“Fuck baby,” Josh shuddered next to you. “You’re really playing the game tonight, aren’t you?”

“What game?” You smirk and Josh stares you down, eyes beginning to glass over with lust. He takes a moment to gather himself as you flick your tongue over the tip of your straw nonchalantly before finally placing it in your glass of water and drawing a gulp. The bartender sat down two more shots in front of you, lime wedges and a salt shaker too.

“I wanna try something.” Josh informed you, picking up the glass that was in front of you. “You know how we used to shotgun when we’d smoke?”

“I’ve never met you before tonight, sir.” You batted your lashes at him. “But I’m aware of the concept.” Josh nodded.

“Sorry, you’re just so familiar to me.” He chuckled. “Well, we’re gonna shotgun a shot.” You quirked an eyebrow curiously, tilting your head. You dropped the game for a moment with your next words.

“You wanna spit tequila in my mouth?” Josh nodded, grinning confidently.

See the full post

319 notes - Posted March 17, 2022

#2

Brat

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, smut, bratty behavior, slightly rough smut, cursing, unprotected sex

A/N: This is @cal-a-bungaa's fault, because she mentioned riding Jake's face and him choking you and it lit something in me. Please enjoy.

You sighed as you wiped down the kitchen counters, rearranging the toaster, coffee maker, and stand mixer for the third time. You listened to Jake’s reply to something that was said, and heard Danny, Josh, and Sam’s tinny voices chatter with him through his laptop. What was supposed to be a quick video chat “ten minutes tops, babe!”, had turned into an hour and a half. You loved how close Jake was with his brothers, but the fact that his hand had just started the journey from your breasts down to the inside of your pajama shorts when the call came in annoyed the shit out of you.

Hearing the topic of new music start, you knew it was going to be another hour at least before you’d get any of his attention again. Tossing the paper towel into the trash can, you shuffled from the kitchen, past Jake in the living room and down the hall to your bedroom. You might as well shower now that your hands were covered in various cleaning chemicals. Tossing your hair up into a quick bun, you stripped down and moved to the ensuite bathroom.

As you lathered up your body under the hot spray, and idea popped into your head. It was a card that you rarely played, but one that worked whenever you did. Taking your time to properly exfoliate your skin during the shower, you made sure that your skin would be soft and smooth to the touch, especially once you got out and slathered yourself with your favorite lotion. The soft, fruity and floral smell always drove Jake crazy, and as it soaked into your skin, you let your hair down from it’s bun, fluffing it out, and spritzing it with dry shampoo to give it a little lift. To pull this off, you had to be just the right combination of trying and effortless. What that was exactly, you had no clue, but figured a coat of mascara to elongate your lashes wouldn’t hurt.

Your confidence starting to build, you entered the bedroom again, still hearing Jake conversing in the living room. Rifling through the closet, you chose one of Jake’s secret favorites. It was an old, dark gray, threadbare cotton t-shirt. The logo, whatever it truly was, had been faded from hundreds of rounds through a washer and dryer, and holes were starting to appear in different spots. It was the softest thing in the universe, and hung perfectly on your otherwise naked frame, the hem just coming to your mid-thigh. Josh’s laugh echoed through the house, sounding metallic through the small speaker on Jake’s laptop.

You fluffed your hair up one more time in the mirror before making your exit, sauntering down the hallway and into the living room, making sure to just barely show up in the corner of Jake’s screen.

“Hi Y/N!” Danny’s voice called out. Just as planned, you knew if Danny caught sight of you, his politeness would bring attention to you. You came up behind the couch where Jake sat, and peered over his shoulder. Once he got a whiff of the lotion you used, he leaned in closer to you, and you heard him take another quick sniff, his finger twitching on his jean-clad knee. You caught him glance at you, his eyes narrowed just enough that no one else would notice that he was trying to figure out what you were up to.

“Hi Danny,” you smiled at him, then directed your attention to the other two. “Hey Sammy, hey Josh. I miss you guys!”

“We’ll see you soon!” Sam assured, sending you a wink. “Family game night is Thursday.”

“I’ve got a bottle of tequila just for you and me, hun.” you grinned. You chuckled as Sam whooped and did a little dance on the screen, and moved around the couch, knowing now only Jake could see you. His eyes tracked your movement while he spoke to his bothers, so you decided to tease him a bit. You stood in front of the black tv screen, angling your body as you bent over to pick up the magazines on the coffee table, thumbing through them.

“Jake, you good?” Josh asked. You glanced up and Jake was staring at the TV screen, his mouth open in awe. You looked back over your shoulder, seeing yourself exposed in your position in the screens reflection.

“Oops!” you mouthed, straightening up and shrugging nonchalantly. You held one magazine, something about guitars that you knew you weren’t going to ever really read, plopping the others back on the table. You moved to the arm chair next to the TV and sat down, crossing your legs as you began to look through it.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine.” he shot you a warning look, and you just shrugged with an innocent smile. “What were you saying?” Josh continued on his spiel about…whatever, you honestly didn’t care to focus on it. You bounced your foot as you pretended to read an article. After a few moments, you set the magazine in your lap, raising your arms over your head and stretching. The hem of the t-shirt rode up your thighs further, and you heard Jake clear his throat. His eyes were fully on you as Sam and Josh began to argue over something, and you held eye contact as you rested your arms on the arms of the chair, and slowly uncrossed your legs, spreading them so he could see your core, then slowly crossing them again. You watched him swallow roughly, his fingers grazing his lips as he stared at you.

Quirking an eyebrow, you challenged him, letting one of your hands run over your body in the t-shirt as you adjusted yourself in your chair, hooking your knee over the arm and exposing yourself to him as your hand traced your folds. You were going to get off one way or another, and if he wasn’t going to help, he was going to watch. You traced the pad of your middle finger around your clit, biting your bottom lip as Jake’s eyes widened.

“Hang on a second, guys.” he muted himself and got up, walking around the coffee table quickly to stand in front of you, hands on his hips. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I wanna cum.” you stated matter of factly, continuing your ministrations. You ignored the voices echoing from the computer in the background, focusing on the man in front of you. “You’re taking your sweet time on the call, so I thought I’d get myself off. You don’t mind, do you?” you batted your eyelashes as he stared at you in disbelief, and then his eyes darkened. This is what you were looking for all along.

“Yes I fucking mind.” he growled, leaning over you. His hands gripped the arms of the chair, his knuckles turning white. “I know what you’ve been up to all day. I heard you sighing in the kitchen. I heard you get in the shower, and had to sit here thinking about your naked body while listening to my brothers argue about some bullshit.”

His right hand grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements and placing it on your thigh making you whimper at the lost of touch. He then grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up into his eyes.

“You’ve been a fucking brat today.” his gravelly voice combined with the intense, lust-filled eyes made you shiver.

I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you insisted. His nostrils flared, just how you knew they would.

“Go to the bedroom, right now. Don’t you dare touch yourself. I’ll be there when I’m good and ready.”

“Yes.” you murmured, tilting your chin up with half-lidded eyes, begging for a kiss. His grip on your chin tightened.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir.” he let go of your chin roughly and pushed your leg off the arm of the chair, pulling you up to stand. He moved to the side to let you start walking. You felt his fingers graze the hem of the t-shirt, and you thought he was going to pull it down in the back for you, but instead he swatted your ass, leaving a stinging sensation on your asscheek.

Entering the bedroom, you laid yourself out on the bed, crossing your legs at the ankles and arms over your head. You listened as Jake began to make excuses for ending his part of the call, his brothers all saying goodbye, and telling them to say goodbye to you for them. Your heart picked up its pace in anticipation as his footsteps came down the hallway.

“I don’t know where you get off.” Jake started as he entered the room, hands on his belt as he slowly undid it.

See the full post

324 notes - Posted March 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

You Look Like You Were Jealous

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI! smutty smut smut.

Based on the prompt submitted by anonymous: ❛ you look like you were jealous. ❜ with jealous!josh

A/N: yall put me in josh's lane for a real hot minute with this one, i'm not gonna lie. i hope you enjoy, anon!

The bar was loud when you’d all gotten there earlier in the evening, but now it was almost overwhelmingly rowdy. It didn’t help Josh had his little brother Sam practically shouting into his ear about…well, it probably had something to do with music. He hadn’t been paying attention, because his eyes had locked onto two figures standing at the bar. One was yours as you waited for the tables next round of drinks, and for a second, he appreciated your body as his eyes traveled up and down.

The tight, dark jeans you wore hugged your hips and your ass in just the right way, making Josh yearn to sink his teeth into the meaty flesh. You had borrowed one of Josh’s old t-shirts, since he really didn’t wear them anymore, you’d taken to wearing them a lot. Admittedly because they were comfortable, and because even through multiple washes, the smell of his skin and cologne were still imbedded in the fibers, making you feel closer to him.

Josh’s eyes darted to the person next to you the tall, muscular man that was speaking to you. He was dressed nicely, a deep red button down shirt with the first few buttons undone, tucking into black dress pants. The watch on his wrist was large, and caught the canned lights above the bar making it shine blindingly across the room. His hair was neatly trimmed, and Josh rolled his eyes as you laughed at something the guy said. Josh’s mouth set into a firm line after he took an annoyed sip from the remnants in his glass.

A spike of rage shot through Josh’s body as the man touched your upper arm. It was barely a second before his hand pulled back, but Josh seethed as you reacted with a giggle. The bartender placed a tray in front of you and Josh watched as you went to pay, but the man held up his hand, pushing a card over to the employee. Josh watched as you tried to decline, gesturing over the tray, but he waved the concern away. You thanked the man, scribbling something on a napkin and sliding it to him, before picking up the tray, and sauntering through the bar crowd like a pro.

“Alright, I’ve got a corona for Sam, some weird IPA that smells like feet for Danny, a double tequila soda for the Jake-man, and the saltiest of salty dogs for my love.” you passed out the drinks as you named them, pressing a kiss to Josh’s temple as you sat back in the booth next to him. He turned away from you a bit, grabbing his glass and taking a sip.

“What do you have there?” Jake asked, eyeing the red, fruity drink in front of you. You grinned your eyes twinkled.

“Ooh, it’s tonight’s signature drink! That guy up at the bar told me to try it, it’s called a forbidden fruit fizz!” you stirred the drink around a little with the tiny sprig of rosemary, jumbling the ice cubes and pomegranate seeds together, not noticing Josh’s eyeroll. “It’s pomegranate juice, vodka, prosecco and I think a little maple syrup, he said?” you took a sip and your eyes lit up. “Oh my god, it’s really good.” Josh was forced back into his seat as Sam’s hand reached across him, snatching your drink and taking a sip. The youngest Kiszka made a show of smacking his lips as he offered it to Danny, who passed on the sip after taking a swig from his own beer. Jake took his own sip of your drink and furrowed his brow with a grimace.

“Far too rich for my blood.” he chuckled, passing the drink across the table to Josh, who merely passed it back to you, barely a look in your direction. You frowned as you regarded your boyfriend, who only fifteen minutes ago had been stroking your thigh under the table and leaning over between conversations to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. Now he acted like you were practically invisible. The conversation at the table continued, and while Josh and Danny droned on about whether a violin was needed for a certain part in a song they were writing, you decided to bridge the gap and put your own hand on Josh’s thigh. Without flinching or breaking conversation, he lifted your hand from his limb and placed it on the tacky vinyl booth between you. You were about to say something when something small hit your cheek, and you saw a small ball of paper in front of you on the table. Glancing up, you saw Jake smiling gently, fingers still in flicking position, the napkin under his drink shredded. You rolled your eyes and flicked it back, silently thanking him for the distraction from the pang in your heart.

“Alright, I think it’s time we head out.” Danny yawned a few hours later. “I’m beat.” the others nodded in unison and you stood up from the booth, Josh following and Sam too as Jake let Danny out from his side. Once the tab was settled, you all made your way through the thinning crowd. You were following Josh closely when you were distracted by your name being called out.

“Y/N!” you head whipped around and the guy from the bar was standing behind you. “Leaving so soon?”

“Dude, it’s like midnight.” you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I’m heading home.”

“Well, I just wanted to say, it was nice to meet you and thank you.” Josh felt like his entire body was aflame, capable of burning down the entire bar as the man patted his shirt pocket, the corner of a napkin sticking out. “Have a good night.”

“You too!” you felt tight pressure on your hand, and looked down, seeing Josh’s squeezing it. He roughly tugged you behind him as you gave the man a wave goodbye. Josh led you to his truck, yanking the passenger door open and watching as you got in, shutting the door roughly once you were clear. You watched him, puzzled as he climbed into the drivers seat and continued to otherwise ignore your presence on the drive home. You sighed to yourself, defeated. Whatever conversation you had missed while getting drinks that night, must’ve been one that annoyed him, and now he was taking it out on you. You decided that you’d give him space once you got home, maybe take a quick shower and crawl into bed.

Once home, you let Josh handle locking the door behind the two of you, shedding your shoes in the foyer and walking up the stairs to your bedroom. If there was anything about Josh you could complain about, one of the biggest annoyances was how light on his feet he was. You almost never heard him moving around the house. Which is why you nearly jumped out of your skin next to the bed, plugging in your phone, when his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his body tightly.

“You wanna tell me what the fuck happened tonight?” he voice was low and thick, making a shiver run down your spine.

“Do you want to tell me?” you reply with attitude, your annoyance at his behavior finally coming loose. “You’ve been freezing me out most of the night. What the hell happened while I was gone?” Josh gripped your sides and spun you around to face him.

“You flirted with that fucker at the bar.” your eyes went wide in shock, and you were about to speak when he cut you off. “You were acting like a fucking slut. Laughing at his jokes, letting him touch you. You even ordered the drink he suggested. Gave him your fucking number? All while I sat in plain sight.”

“Josh I-“ you swallowed. A light shone in your head and a small smirk graced your lips. “Were you jealous?” Josh glared at you through his dark lashes. “You look like you were jealous.”

“Shut up.” he hissed, grabbing your jaw. “You wanna play games, baby? Oh I can play games too. I’ll show you who you fucking belong to.” he pressed his lips against yours in a passionately rough kiss. Suddenly, your back bounced onto the bed. Your eyes opened to see Josh’s arms under your thighs; he had lifted you to drop you onto the mattress unceremoniously. His fingers lifted the hem of your top, lifting it and you sat up to help him take it off. His hands gripped onto your chest, kneading at the doughy flesh that peaked out from atop of the bra you wore. Reaching back, you unhooked your bra, pulling your arms through the straps and suppressing a giggle as Josh ripped the material away from your body. Instead you let out a breathy moan as he forcefully pushed you flat on your back, his lips attaching to your nipple, tongue swirling around it.

You hummed as his fingers pinched at your other nipple, arching your back into him as you could feel a tingle start in your core. You would admit without fail, that with Josh, it took very little to turn you on. He was so attuned to your body, both of you having spent time studying each other while only slightly jokingly studying the kama sutra in the beginnings of your relationship. Josh had learned every little tweak and pinpoint on your body to make you hunger, thirst and crave for him within seconds. After switching his attentions from one breast to the other, he kissed a trail down your stomach, deftly undoing the buttons on the front of your jeans and kneeling back, roughly tugging them down your legs. His glare was fixed on your lacy panties, and reaching forward, he slid his finger through a small hole in the lace on the hip. With a few swift movements, he ripped the flimsy, cheap lace and pulled the ruined garment from you, whipping them across the room.

Spreading your legs in front of him, Josh leaned down, blowing cool air onto your already slick center. You shivered and moaned as his fingers kneaded the flesh of your thighs, and as he leaned down lower, you could feel his lips ghosting over where you wanted his touch the most. You heard him chuckle darkly to himself when he felt your thigh muscles tremble under his hands.

“Josh please,” you whined, wiggling your hips. It felt like hours in the seconds it took him to bend his head down, licking a clean strip over you with his wide, flat tongue. Your hand flew to his curls, clutching your hand as the tip of his tongue flicked over your clit repeatedly.

“So wet for me already, babe?” Josh snickered as he raised his head up to smirk at you, letting the tip of his index finger feather over your slit. “Could that guy at the bar get you this hot in that little time?”

“Nuh uh.” you shook your head against the bedspread, lifting your hips to try and bring his face back down. He placed one of his palms onto your pelvis, forcing them back down against the bed. When he lowered his head this time, his lips wrapped around your sensitive bud, sucking and continuing the flicking of his tongue. His finger slipped inside of you easily, and you gasped as he wasted no time with his speed. The moans were spilling from your lips as he added a second finger, starting to curl them upwards in a come-hither motion.

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407 notes - Posted February 17, 2022

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[arundolyn]

forgot the hilarity of fighting game characters with katanas. the act of sheathing/unsheathing is a suggestion at absolute best

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

Hey bestie can u make a eren x reader one shot where eren just won’t let the reader move on🙃

thank u anon for this lovely idea

scumbag!eren x crybaby!fem!reader

WARNINGS: dubcon/noncon, past toxic relationship, slut-shaming, possessive behavior, yandere tendencies,

WC: 1.8k

He pins your wrists against the dingy bathroom tiles with an unrelenting grip, and you swear you've never felt more claustrophobic in your life.

The dark-haired boy eyes the glitter on your cheekbones, the neon-colored eyeliner, the rogue on your lips, and the black satin of your mini dress exposing a substantial amount of plush thighs. He's never seen you like this-never allowed you like this before.

You almost feel like uncharted territory but nothing escapes his observant nature. From the tremble of your lips, and the water starting to collect in your lower lash lines, Eren knows this you. Maybe not who you were pretending to be in the strappy heels, low neckline, and the party-girl masquerade you put on in front of your shallow ditzy friends, but he knows who you really are. Vulnerable. Scared of your own shadow.

"E-eren,' You stammer, "Please let me go." You try not to think about the voice cracks, trying to sound as assertive as you could without meeting his eyes. Eren, of course, thinks you look like a baby mouse. Hopeless and trapped.

"Don’t you miss me?" He mummers into the nape of your neck. You have an explosive No prepared in the roof of your mouth, ready to sound out the single syllable, until his hand, adorned with chunky silver rings, covers your mouth, muffling your whimpers. You could taste the metal.

“It’s a rhetorical question.” He’s smirking, green eyes lit up dangerously under the too-white bright lights, “Let me talk okay? I just want you to listen.”

All you’ve ever been doing is letting him walk and talk over you. And then when you finally got the nerve to stand up for yourself-

“I haven’t seen you the past three months” his low voice interrupts your contemplation, “It’s like you’ve been ignoring me.” He finishes flatly, his thin lips stretched into a line. His multitude of ear piercings catches the light, glinting sharply.

It’s too overpowering, his close proximity after going cold turkey. His presence is like a drag of a cigarette after not smoking for months. Hurts your lungs but the remnants of what you used to feel with the sudden rush of nicotine bubbling up again. Because when all is said and done, you’re still deliriously attracted to him. And you hate yourself for it.

You try to focus on the other sensations, sensations that aren’t busy on the feel of his warm breath or his hands holding yours down. You can still hear the song playing from the club.

All my bitches feel like I dodged the county

Fucking with you feel like jail n——-

Yeah, it really did.

Changing tactics, he holds you by your neck instead, giving your aching wrists sweet relief but that relief is nothing compared to the panic of having his beefy hand on your thrumming pulse.

His grasp wasn’t tight. You could breathe, but it was the kind of tight that let you know he would go tighter if you didn’t listen properly. React properly.

“You’re fucking ignoring me again” he’s practically growling the words out, baring all teeth, “I know I’m pretty difficult to tune out, so I would like to know what the fuck you’re thinking about.”

His hand leaves your delicate throat- his knee between your thighs keeps you in place- to roam down the satin of your dress, the fabric clinging to every curve. You hate how scrutinizing his viridian eyes are, feeling a wave of insecurity wash over the previous hot-girl-summer confidence.

He hated how good you looked on the dance floor, laughing with your stupid friends like you had lost all your inhibitions. Hated that you looked so good, everyone could see it. Hated how you didn't notice his eyes boring holes into you. Do you remember the time how you used to be hyper-focused around him? Aware of every movement, aware of every tonal shift?

And now you didn't even look at him.

"Are you thinking of other guys? I saw you grinding on those men like a slut." He presses his body deeper, "Have you fucked any other guys since we broke up? You must have. I know how slutty your pussy is"

You bite down on his hand. Hard.

You're counting on his reflexes, for him to retract his hand and give you an opportunity to run to the door. But Eren has been fighting for years and predicts your maneuver. With a calculated sidestep, Eren lets go of his hand, before promptly slamming you against the bathroom wall again but this time front-first.

Clouds dance in your vision, and you're sure you would have fallen by now if not for him holding you up. Eren uses this newfound position to his advantage by groping your ass, rutting his dick against your backside.

Deciding to be petty, you let the spite-coated venom escape your pretty lips, "Yeah. I fucked so many boys, and they were so much better than y-"

Anger blinded him. Roughly, he turned you around to face him once more, forcing you to look up at the green-eyed monster. He flipped your dress up, nearly ripping it during the process, shoved your lacy panty aside, and plunged his fingers inside. He felt a visceral sense of validation course through him at finding wetness coating his slender fingers to your utter mortification.

"Liar. I know you haven't been fucking anyone else." His smile is all teeth, pearly white and sharp,

You gulp, feeling sweat beading down your neck and arousal pooling at the bottom of your stomach. Damn yourself.

"You don't know that."

He looks almost feral, green eyes in slits and hair all mussed up, falling out of his usual bun. The top few buttons of his black button-up are left unfastened giving you a gracious view of his smooth muscular chest, and the dangling silver cross-chain.

"No, I do. See a little birdie told me all you've been doing the past few months is crying yourself to sleep, and eating frozen meals. This is the first time you've been out since I broke up with you, huh?" Condescension drips with every word.

He thumbs away the tear falling down your cheek with a mocking kindness and adds, "There, there. Don't cry. Good thing I happened to be here tonight, right?"

You're full-blown crying now, too upset to care if you're smudging your make-up. This is the real you. This is how Eren remembers you.

"Awe, my precious little crybaby, don't worry. You came here tonight looking for dick? I'll give it to you. It's okay," He coos, breath tickling the shell of your sensitive ears. Well, every part of you felt sensitive right now.

You're rubbing your eyes, sniffling, "E-exactly. You b-broke up with me, so why are you here? Why can't you just let me be?"

The dark-haired boy sighs, and with an uncharacteristic softness, leans his head down to press his forehead against yours, and intertwines his hand with yours, noses almost touching.

"To be honest, it was just to teach you a lesson." A soft exhale, "I didn't think you'd actually stay broken up with me." He's crushing your fingers now, "Didn't think we'd be broken up with for real."

Your eyes flash with indignation, feeling your body surge with an emotion you couldn't qualify, "I don't care. Yeah, I was sad but god, you were a terrible boyfriend! I'm so much better off without you. All those lonely nights are still better than any night I've ever had with you!"

You're breathless by the time you're done.

"Done with your little monologue?"*

You can feel your shoulders shaking, and you almost want to laugh from the indecorousness of it all. How could he not care? Was this how little you mattered to him?

"I know you're lying because" Without any preamble, he shoves his fingers inside of you again, finding that spongy spot that made your knees weak, eliciting a soft moan from your downturned mouth, "You're wet. And you want me."

"In fact," an edge of excitement colors his voice, "I bet your insides are still molded to fit my dick."

It's hard to talk when one thumb is violently brushing over your clit, and his tongue is forced into your mouth, drowning any whines of protests. You close your eyes, focusing and unfocusing. A hand snakes up your dress to fondle your tits and tease your perky nipples.

It's just one sensation over another, and your sex-deprived body was welcoming all these feelings with open arms. Eren knows your body like it came with an instruction manual and that manual advised him to bite your earlobe, which was especially sensitive. He knew where on your collarbone you liked to be marked, how hard you wanted your nipples pinched, and how you could ride his face with complete abandon.

But right now, he didn't want to pleasure you. He's coaxed enough orgasms out of you throughout your relationship.

He unbuckles his belt and frees his long slender cock, the head a flushed angry red, dribbling with precum. He lines his full-mast cock to your entrance. Fully alert as to what was about to happen, pretty pleas of "no Eren, please don't, no" are falling out of your mouth, wide starlit eyes dotted with pearlescent tears. He kisses the top of your head like the way he always used to.

And then he thrusts himself inside. You give up so easily, he thinks. Do you even realize how you're swinging your hips on your own accord? How you're wrapping your lush legs around his waist to pull him deeper?

His pace is ruthless, making your head bob up and down. Moans and grunts drown out the music from the club. You're begging him to slow down.

"You're mine. Always mine. Always were. Can't fucking believe you really thought-" He doesn't even finish his thought because a violent shudder rips throughout his body.

Your nails are digging into his back, so sharp it could have been clawed. You could feel yourself right on the edge-

The door shakes to reveal a tall young man with slicked-back blond hair with a frat-boy laugh.

"Holy shit! Eren?!"

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcufkcufkcufckfuckfuckfuckfuc

Shame burns your face. You have no choice but to cover yourself behind Eren's broad frame. You're just hoping to every god he'll go away, and keep this to himself.

Your dark-haired ex-boyfriend turns around to face the blond, "A little busy here, Porco. Shut the door. I'm uh, getting reacquainted with someone."

"Goddamn. Is that ___" You don't even have to look at Porco to recognize how impressed he was.

"Get out Porco." Eren growls.

The door closes with a loud thud.

You're borderline hysterical at this point begging Eren to get out of you, but his grip on your hips is iron-tight.

Outside you hear stunned gasps, but one phrase stands out to your straining ears: "Yeah, I guess they're back together."

Eren kisses the top of your head once more, "After I fuck you, we'll go home together girlfriend."

----------

* {A/N}: This line "Done with your little monologue?" is inspired by this delicious fic by @hotwings0203.

[lubdubsworld]

Change of Heart ( Taehyung ) ( Complete.

Chapter 1   Chapter 2    Chapter 3     Chapter 4     Chapter 5   Chapter 6  Chapter 7   Chapter 8    Chapter 9

Summary : Times are changing. After years of being oppressed, werewolves are taking a stand against humans , demanding equal rights and fair treatment. Heading the movement is Kim Taehyung, the breathtaking heir to the Kim fortune and one of the few remaining Alpha werewolves in the country. His disdain for the human race is well known and well warranted. They killed his family after all….. He wants to change the world , to put humans in their place but when his five year old daughter takes a shine to their very human neighbor , maybe he has to start with a change of heart , first.

: Pairing : Taehyung x OC / Werewolf AU!!

Genre : Romance, Explicit Content

Chapter 10

“Baby....you up?” Taehyung sleep heavy voice against my ear made me stir, blinking groggily as I tried to make sense of where I was. The window was still dark and I groaned. 

“What time is it?” I whispered and I felt the press of his lips against my shoulder, gentle and wet. 

“It’s a little past five in the morning.”

I whined in disbelief.

“Why would you wake me up so early?” 

I could barely see him in the darkness and I felt my breath catch when he moved to straddle my hips, hovering over me before grabbing the back of my thighs, spreading my legs apart and leaning down till the head of his cock pressed right up against my entrance. I felt myself clenching in anticipation and my body thrummed with the need to be filled, although I was still so sore from last night. 

“I’m sorry.... I need to head out but i wanted to...” Taehyung whispered, and I moaned when he kissed me  lightly, groaning when he slid right in, cleaving a way inside me, my walls pulsing around the hard length of. I flinched, the dull ache of it making me whimper a little and it took some effort to ground myself, to relax and not seize up against the intrusion. I could feel my heartrate speeding up, the last vestiges of sleep fading into the air. 

Taehyung, pressed gentle fingers to my waist, stroking my skin before running them up my torso, soft little touches to my ribs and up to my breasts, cupping the warm weight of them before rubbing his thumb over the tip till my nipples hardened. 

“So pretty...like this...” He whispered, pulling out and pushing back in and the movement jarred my insides , drawing a pout onto my lips. 

“you’re too big..” I complained and he responded by moving his hands to my knees, gripping the back of them and drawing them up and apart till I choked, spreading me so wide that my thighs screamed in protest, and he laughed at the look on my face .

“We should join a yoga class or something. Your flexibility is atrocious.” He commented mildly and I gasped, affronted. 

“What on earth-” He cut me off with a kiss, before grabbing my ankle and throwing my leg over his shoulder and pressing in closer, his cock sliding in even deeper. I choked out, laughing in sheer disbelief because I wasn’t made to bend like that. Nobody was. I was sure of it. 

“You’ll get used to it...” Taehyung laughed, “ Get used to me... Get used to my kisses and of course get used to my fat cock in you every damn night. ” he growled and the filthy words made me clench down on him, so hard that i almost cramped up. 

He kissed me slowly and I wrapped one arm around his neck, trying to breathe through the stretch of him fucking into me, each push and pull abrasive but amazing. . 

I stared at his beautiful face, trying to drink in the features, and I felt myself fall deeper, the look of affection in his gaze somehow so much more arousing than the things he was doing to me. And i realized how badly I wanted this...This and him for the rest of my life. 

And in the wake of it came the reminder that +my father was out there. 

A powerful man. 

A dangerous man who wanted Taehyung gone.

“Are you going to be in danger?” I whispered, pressing my palm against his face and he chuckled. He lightly grabbed my wrist and pressed a kiss to my palm before bringing my hand down to his shoulder and kissing me gently. 

“I always am.” He reminded me , lips brushing mine . It was far from reassuring and I gripped his shoulders harder, trying not to let the anxiety take over. 

“But you’ll be safe, right?” I demanded, willing him to look me in the eye and Taehyung gave me a soft smile.

“Would you miss me terribly if I was gone?” He grinned and I felt my entire body go ice cold at the very prospect of it , my lips parting and my mouth going sandpaper dry.  Taehyung’s smile faded at once, his arms tightening around me. 

“Hey...hey... I was just joking...baby. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have joked about that. Rae, I’m going to be fine... Look at me. ” He whispered urgently and I curled my fingers into his shoulders, trying to breathe. 

“Hey...Come on, Rae.. Don’t look so scared. ..” He pressed kisses to my cheeks and I swallowed.

“Don’t underestimate my father. Tae....“ I said hoarsely.” He has so much more to lose than you do. He’s desperate and I don’t want you to be blindsided by anything. “ I whispered. 

He nodded.

“i know. i won’t. Now come on, let me make you feel good, yeah?” He kissed me again and I hugged him. He picked up the pace, thrusting into me faster and I closed my eyes, gripping his waist and hanging on as he sent my senses into overdrive. 

My mind was still too worried to experience any sort of overwhelming pleasure but I liked this. 

Liked having him like this, over me, inside me and wrapped all around me,. 

It meant he was safe. At least for this moment, he was here and he was safe. 

I felt the moment his orgasm hit him, warm wetness spilling into me and I closed my eyes at the sensation, blushing for some reason.

This time i felt him swelling inside me again and I froze, panic starting before I could stop it and he hugged me closer, lips pressing soothing kisses as he stroked my skin, gently soothing. 

“it’s okay baby... You’re mine... You were made for me. it won’t hurt... I promise.” He whispered, holding me closer, and I swallowed, bracing myself . 

“Oh, God, Taehyung... “ I whispered, burying my face into his shoulder as he pressed in a little deeper and he was right. It didn’t hurt, it felt overwhelming, like it was too much and like I was going to absolutely explode but it didn’t hurt. ....

Taehyung trembled a little, as he tried not to move, his knot lodging itself deep inside me, so deep that the smallest movement sent pin pricks of sensation all over my body. It didn’t even feel weird or animalistic anymore I thought , awed. it felt normal. Felt like us. Him and I locked together. Felt natural.  Or maybe the early morning grogginess was making me mellow. Maybe once i had my head on straight, I’d be more terrified. 

He groaned into my shoulders, body going lax on top of me and I choked a little because he was heavy, but there was a dull throbbing pleasure in it, the weight of him grounding me. 

I stared up at the ceiling, stroking the back of his head as he shuddered a little inside me. 

Time seemed endless as he stayed inside me and I felt my eyelids growing heavy, even as I heard his breathing even out.

Wasn’t he supposed to leave? 

But I couldn’t bring myself to wake him up. 

For a few more minutes, I stayed still, watching the windows grow lighter and as the first rays of the morning sun began spilling into the room, I felt sleep take over. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I won’t be going in at all. The Narcotic department is going to handle the whole thing. You know Namjoon and Seokjin right? They’re the one who’re going to be there and they’re going to make sure things go smoot. I’m going to be safe ...in the comfort of my luxurious office .... “ Taehyung’s voice  sounded completely steady and firm through the phone and i willed myself to trust him. 

Luna sat in my lap, happily sketching on a drawing pad as we sat cross legged in front of the huge French Windows in Jungkook’s apartment. Jungkook himself was in the kitchen, whipping up some milkshakes for us. 

I sighed deeply.

“ Can we come over today then? It ends today right?” I asked urgently. I buried my nose in Luna’s hair and the sweet scent of green apple and strawberries made me melt. She turned around to flash me a wide grin, eyes dancing with happiness. 

Taehyung didn’t respond for a few seconds. When he did, his voice was low and soothing. 

“I’m not sure Rae. These men, they aren’t the kind of people I can take lightly. There are going to be repercussions and I don’t want anything to happen to you or Luna. You’re safe there. Jungkook’s going to stay with you till I come get you and I’ve hired enough men to keep watch. I just need to hang around long enough to make sure we end this cleanly. “

“Okay. I love-”

“Don’t.” He said softly. 

I blinked.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s the first time I’m hearing you say that. I’d rather hear it in person.” Taehyung said softly. 

I laughed.

“You’re such a sap.”

“Only for you. Now, what is my feral daughter upto?” 

“Luna, Dada wants to talk to you...” I handed the phone over to her and she squealed.

“Hi Daddy....” She said cutely. “ When are you coming home daddy?” 

I couldn’t hear his side of the conversation but the pout on her face told me that she wasn’t pleased.

“But that’s soooo long....”

“I was drawing . RaeRae showed me how to draw a wolf. It looks angry like daddy.”

“No daddy, I’m being a good girl. I ate a bowl of rice and veggies too.” 

“I don’t miss daddy because RaeRae’s here.” 

And then she giggled.

“Of course not daddy...you’re both number one.” 

A sound at the door made me look up and Jungkook held the door in place with his leg, flipping the doorjamb down before carefully carrying the tray of milkshakes in. 

I gently maneuvered Luna off my lap before moving to help him. 

“Smells delicious, Mr. Jeon.” I grinned, taking a sip of the chocolate concoction. “Ooh..that's really good.”

“Its a premade mix I added water to.” Jungkook grinned. I laughed. 

“ Still a great cook !” I turned to watch Luna who was now flat on her back on the rug and going on about how Jungkook had let her borrow his sketching tab. 

“She’s adorable.” He commented with a smile and I hummed.

“When are you heading back to the preserve?” I asked gently and he shrugged.

“Not for a while. Taehyung told me they’re not yet sure how far this whole drug thing has spread. There’s going to be a lot of arrests and protests in the next few weeks. Messing with a wolf’s ability to scent his mate...that’s terrible stuff, Rae. Wolves are gonna be fucking furious. There’s going to be a huge fall out over this and we can only hope it wouldn’t be too violent.” 

I swallowed.

“Do you think I could get my job back, at the preserve?”

Jungkook looked surprised.

“You’re not gonna be with Tae?”

I turned to stare at Luna.

“Of course I’ll be with Tae but.. i love my job. I made a difference there. I’m not going to make a good trophy wife. I want to be able to help people in someway, not just hang around in the backdrop.” I said desperately.

Jungkook looked worried. 

“I’m not sure if Tae will agree to that Rae. You know how he gets about his job. As his wife you’ll have plenty of stuff to do as it is..,....”

“I’m not his wife...” I muttered under my breath, although it was kind of a useless statement.

“ Umm...you know he’s going to ask you to marry him as soon as possible? You’re already wearing his mark. in fact , in our world you’re already married as far as we’re concerned,” Jungkook pointed at my neck and I rubbed the small scar on my shoulder where he’d bitten me. 

“I can still do the things I want to do right? Taehyung isn’t going to lock me up , is he?” I laughed.

Jungkook tilted his head, watching me carefully.

“You don’t know him very well, do you Rae?” He said quietly. 

My heart flipped over in my ribcage at the words and the tone with which he said it. 

“What-What do you mean?:” I asked , nervous. 

Jungkook opened his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by Luna’s laugh. 

“RaeRae!!! Daddy wants to talk to you!!” Luna came bounding over with the phone held out and I took it from her.

“Tae?”

“I’m going to head in now. We’re going to be coordinating with Seoul PD and they’ll send the guys in around 2 hours. You’re going to  okay right? I’ll call you when it’s over?” 

“Okay, Tae. Stay safe.” I whispered.

“I’ll be just fine. Don’t worry about me. Love you. Both of you. ”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook and i sat on the couch, eyes glued on the TV as the news played out watching the entire country erupt in chaos. 

“Fire broke out today on a popular resort in Jeju Do, owned by  Hotelier Cha Eun Woo..... Interestingly, the resort had been closed for the weekend with minimal staff and only a few VVIP customers . So far there have been reports of nine casualties, all of them guests including billionaire philanthropist Yoon Jae hyun....”

I felt the breath shudder out of me, equal parts relief and disbelief. Taehyung had closed the whole thing down with minimum fanfare and with no one any the wiser. I knew that the eight men were the major distributors in the entirety of Korea, and that with them gone, it would only be a matter of time before the entire racket collapsed. 

“These guys are good.” Jungkook commented mildly and I stared at the screen, fascinated... The whole thing was being written off as an unfortunate tragedy, a gas leak or something.  

A small crowd of people in uniforms stood huddled in a corner and I squinted, grinning when I caught sight of Kim Seokjin’s golden blonde head and Kim Namjoon’s tall figure, dressed like waiters. .

I felt my lips quirk at that. 

The phone rang just then and I exhaled, “ Taehyung...”

“Did I do good?” He whispered. 

I laughed. 

“ I think I know now, why you’re an amazing politician Kim Taehyung ssi. “ I said softly. 

Taehyung chuckled.

“Real life isn’t like the movies baby.... I suppose you were looking forward to some good old fashioned action sequences and a lot of alpha posturing?” He teased. 

I smiled.

“I’m just glad you’re safe. “ I whispered. 

“I’m sending a limo to Jungkook’s place. You should  come over to my condo.  I have a present for you. Will you come? ” He said gently. 

Curiosity piqued, “ Of course. I’ll be there. What is it?”

Taehyung laughed softly, his voice deep. 

“I think you’ll like it.”

I stared at Jungkook, who could probably hear the conversation.

He had a very odd expression on his face. Part resignation and Part worry. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.. I’m just thinking that I’m lucky...”

“Lucky?”

“That I didn’t think about pursuing you. “ 

I laughed. 

“What do you mean?”

“I’m just saying. i wouldn’t want to be on Kim Taehyung’s hit list.” 

I rolled my eyes. 

“Don’t be dramatic.” 

“I’m not. Be careful Rae. He’s a very dangerous man.” Jungkook said quietly, picking up the smaller glass of strawberry milk and lifting Luna up into his arms. i watched him laugh and carry her to the balcony. 

And i wondered what that was about. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So , what’s the present?” I asked impishly , wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him soundly. He hugged me close, reciprocating with fervor and I moaned into his mouth. I could kiss him forever.

“Patience , little one. It’s on the way. First , tell me is your brother alright? I’ve been trying to reach him but i can’t.” He sounded worried and i felt warmth bloom in my chest.

“Yuggie’s fine. He left his phone somewhere ...i spoke to him on the way here. He’s upset of course but for now, he’s not going to come anywhere near the family business. My father handed things over to his nephew a few years ago is what I heard. Yuggie’s heading back to the States after the funeral.”

“What’s his name? This nephew...do you know? ” Taehyung asked thoughtfully.

“Kim Ji Hoo. He owns a bunch of casinos across the country. When I was in college i once heard him talk about getting girls from somewhere to my dad. I don’t remember where .... ” I said apologetically. 

“That’s fine angel. Thank you for telling me... I’ll keep an eye on him.” Taehyung said with a smile. 

“So this is it? The drug racket is down??” I asked nervously and he sighed.

“Hardly. We don’t know a lot of things but the Narcs caught a lot of evidence today from these idiots and their laptops and phones. Seokjin and Namjoon are going to head the investigation. We’ll probably not reveal anything to the public until we know the true extent of the operations.”

“Which would be once you get to the local dealers.”

“Yes.... but that is out of my jurisdiction so I’m going to respectfully step away and let them do their job.” He smiled. 

“And the whole sex trade thing in Eun Woo’s hotel..What about that?”

“We rescued the girls earlier. There were seventeen of them, three of them underage.” His voice shook a little. 

“He’s a monster. I’m glad he’s dead.” I whispered. 

A knock on the door made us pull away from each other. 

“Speaking off, your present’s here...” He smiled. 

Grinning , i turned to the door.

And then the smile froze on my face when I saw who it was. 

Seokjin stood framed in the door way, dragging another man in front of him. I couldn’t see who it was because of the black bag over his head. 

“Special delivery for Alpha Kim.” He grinned, shoving the man forward till he crashed to his knees in front of me. Seokjin pulled the bag off . 

“Taehyung.” I froze in disbelief, staring at the familiar man in front of me , on his knees , bloodied and battered, wrists caught in handcuffs and face swollen and gagged..

Cha Eun Woo was almost unrecognizable. 

Taehyung stepped right up behind me wrapping both hands around me in a warm back hug, chin resting on my shoulder as he peered down at the beta wolf. 

“Do you like your present?” He whispered, kissing my neck gently. 

“Taehyung, what is this?” I said , my fingers shaking a little, my skin icy cold because of how cruel Taehyung looked and sounded, talking down to Cha Eun Woo. 

“I thought you’d enjoy a little action, angel... Life get’s boring sometimes if I don’t indulge my wolf once in a while, don’t you think, baby?” 

 “Tae, no.” i said desperately. “ Let him go. please don’t...”

Taehyung hummed. 

“Are you sure baby? You don’t wanna see how us wolves solve things?” 

I shook my head frantically. 

“No.. No I don’t wanna see you kill another man.” I laughed, voice just a little hysterical because why did this even have to be said. When Taehyung said present I was thinking a bottle of champagne and some roses.... not the prospect of cold blooded murder..... . “ Please.,.just... Don’t.” 

Taehyung pulled away from me and moved forward. I stumbled back and away, watching as he reached Eun Woo, hand reaching out to hold the man by his hair, the veins in his hand pulsing from how tight his grip was. 

Eun Woo whimpered, moaning out slurred syllables that were impossible to understand because of the gag in his mouth. 

“Are you sure angel? “ Taehyung pouted, holding one hand out.. I flinched when his claws popped out , three inches long and sharp as razors. 

My throat went dry as he grabbed Eun Woo by the shoulder, claws digging straight in with so much force that blood spurted out .

I whirled around, looking away , pressing my hands to my eyes, a scream forming at the back of my throat threatening to spill out.

Taehyung groaned in disappointment. 

“Fine. I won’t kill him.” He said boredly. “ Seokjin...” 

I turned back around , staring at him. Taehyung looked as he always did , a soft smile playing around his lips, eyes kind and warm ,  his voice even tempered and gentle. 

But the unconscious man at his feet, the pool of blood spreading out over the carpet , the mangled shoulder..... they didn’t fit into the picture. 

And suddenly, I understood just why everyone was afraid of him. 

Seokjin appeared at the door. He glanced at Eun Woo and wrinkled his nose.

“Did the bitch pass out again? i swear to God, my grandmother has a higher tolerance for pain than this fucker...” He glanced at Taehyung.

“Tie things up yeah?” Taehyung said evenly and Seokjin nodded, dragging the prone body away. 

“You look terrified.” Taehyung smiled, moving to the mahogany sideboard and grabbing a bottle of water. i watched as he casually washed his hands , getting rid of the blood. 

“You... Would you have killed him? If I didn’t ask you to stop?”

Taehyung stopped scrubbing under his nails, giving me a look.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you.. do you do this often? Kill people?” I said shrilly. 

Taehyung laughed. 

“You were plenty happy when I killed your father.” He pointed out. 

I swallowed. 

“That’s...That’s different.. He’s... He deserved it...” 

“And Eun Woo doesn’t? Come on , Rae...what he was doing with those girls was filthy.” 

“Yes.. yes but...” i was so confused, my brain refusing to come to terms with the fact that Taehyung, the man i loved, actually killed people. Personally. 

“Anyway... you told me to stop and i stopped. Didn’t kill him, right?” He smiled. 

I nodded. 

“Thank you for letting him live.” I whispered , turning away . I could feel a head ache come on. .

“Oh, i didn’t let him live.... He’s still going to die.” Taehyung said casually. 

I whirled around , gaze clashing with his as my lips parted in surprise. 

“You.. You said you weren’t going to kill him...” I said hoarsely. 

Taehyung blinked at me, looking confused. He grabbed a pure white towel, wiping his wet hands carefully. 

“Yes, I said  I  wouldn’t kill him. Seokjin will.” He said casually. 

My entire body went cold at that, sweat gathering on my hairline because of how scared I suddenly was. 

“Taehyung ...this isn’t... this scares me.” I whispered, taking a step back. 

He laughed at that, moving closer and reaching for me.

“Come now, angel. You know i have to right? Men like Eun Woo don’t change... He’ll find something more vile and awful to do , probably even try to get back at me by trying to hurt you or Luna... i can’t have that can I?”

“So you just...you kill people who get in your way?” I felt like I had been dipped in a vat full of cold water. Taehyung drew me into his arms, hugging me close.

“Only when I am protecting something i value.” He said softly. “ I can’t afford loose ends, Rae. They get tangled together and trip me up. As my wife, i expect you to trust me. Trust that i won’t do anything without reason.” 

“I’m not your wife.” I said dully, feeling just a little overwhelmed.

“Semantics.” He brushed my words off easily, pulling back to rub his fingers across my cheeks.

“I’m being sworn in officially, tomorrow. I want you by my side on the podium. You and our daughter. I know its going to be new to you... My world. But I think you’ll like it. I’m the king there and I want you to be my queen. ” He kissed me gently. 

I stared at him, this man who i loved because of the side of him I had seen so far. The kind, considerate father, the passionate leader and the tenderly sweet lover. 

But then i remembered the cold cruelty with which he had dug his claws into Eun Woo, who was after all a childhood friend of his. Was this the other side of Kim Taehyung’s perfection? Was he also a ruthless , heartless man who would do anything to protect his interests , destroy anyone who got in his way?  

I pulled back an away . 

“Taehyung are we rushing into this? I... do you think we should slow down? Maybe date a little and-”

He didn’t reply, his face unreadable. 

“And where do you intend to live?” He said quietly. “ You don’t have a job.”

“The preserve....”

“....no longer hires humans. The law came through last week.” 

It was like a knife slashed right through my insides. 

“What?” i whispered, confused. 

Taehyung inhaled sharply. 

“We talked about this? There are a lot of qualified weres who don’t have a job, who cannot find work here in the mainland.”

“And what about me? The preserve is the only place where there’s a laboratory studying werewolf microbiology which is kind of what I’ve majored in. I can’t work anywhere else .” I said softly.

Taehyung sighed.

“Baby, hear me out... As my wife, you’ll be heading charities, working with the most intelligent people in the country , running organizations that directly help improve quality of life for underprivileged weres everywhere. It is so much bigger than anything you could accomplish in that tiny laboratory in the island. “

“So, I just move in with you right away?” I asked quietly, already knowing the answer. 

Taehyung gave me that same, maddeningly rational look. 

“The customs department is going to go through your father’s assets... Everything he owned is going to come under scrutiny and I’m sure his wealth is going to dwindle to nothing once they’re through with him. As it is, I know he wrote you out of his will. If you’re going to insist on working some minimum wage job , living in a dilapidated apartment somewhere just because you think, we’re going too fast...” He smiled, “ I’m going to have to put my foot down.” 

And in a moment of startling clarity I just knew exactly what he’d done. 

“You planned this didn’t you? “ I blinked at him. “ It’s surreal, all these pieces falling into place so perfectly..... You knew I would want to  go back to my job in the preserve . That i would never agree to marry you so quickly. Why else would you rush a law like that? “ 

Taehyung didn’t reply. 

“i know how laws are passed Taehyung. You must’ve put quite the pressure on your bosses, to pass such a mundane law so fast...” 

He stared back at me without an ounce of guilt in his gaze. 

“I won’t apologize for wanting my mate by my side.” He said evenly. 

“Will you apologize for being a cunningly manipulative bastard, then ?” 

“you’re over reacting...” He said calmly. 

“Am I, Taehyung?” I said sharply. “ It’s been a week since I found out i was your mate. A week.... And now suddenly, i have your mark on my neck, no possibility of getting my job back and no other option but to cling to you.... I’d say I’m reacting how any woman would react.... You played me like a fiddle and I’ve been dancing to your tune all along. “ 

Taehyung sighed. 

“You make it sound like I’ve done something terrible. “

“ Haven’t you?? “ i demanded. 

“ No, I haven’t. I love you. I care for you deeply and so does my daughter. She needs you as much as i do and she loves you so much. Your own family is almost non existent right now. your brother is three thousand miles away and I am here offering you my love, my home and the chance to be a part of my family. Tell me what are you losing out on? Tell me what it is I’ve taken away from you?” 

 My choice,  I thought with clarity. You’ve taken away my right to make that choice. 

 He held my face gently, thumbs brushing across my cheeks. 

“I know you’re frightened. But trust me. I’m going to be here by your side. Eun Woo dies today, not because of those girls he destroyed but because of  you. Because he dared touch you , knowing you were mine . Tomorrow the whole country will know it and no one will dare to even breath wrong in your direction. Because they know what your mate is capable of.” 

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and I let him hug me, staring over his back at the opposite wall. 

The painting on the wall caught my eye. 

A beautiful, dainty gazelle, cornered against the edge of a huge cliff,  staring down the barrel of a hunter’s gun. And on her side, a big beautiful wolf , gorgeous and tempting as it seemed to call for her. And it was obvious that in her panic , she was going to run into the arms of the wolf. 

Not knowing that the wolf was just as dangerous, just as deadly as the hunter and the cliff edge. 

I closed my eyes hugging him tight. 

I was so tired. 

“Tell me you’ll marry me. “ Taehyung’s hypnotic voice wove its spell over me, soft and soothing and filled with all the reassurances a naïve young girl would ever need.  

I took a deep breath, trembling in his arms when i exhaled. 

And then I replied. 

The End 

~~~~~~~~

Author’s note : Tell me how much you hate me. 

Taehyung isn’t a saint wbk. So of course there’s going to be a sequel.

Soon. Hopefully. 

Taglist : @veronawrites

@ladyartemesia

@bumb1e-bee

@jeonlovescoffee

@bonyg

@unicornbabylover

[crimsonophelia]

hello basil!!! i’m the anon that sent the original request of reader being a big dumb dumb and accidentally mailing their love letters to childe in liyue—i personally just wanted to tell you that i absolutely LOVED what you wrote and that i’m so happy and grateful you did my request justice. keep up the good work!!!

if you wouldn’t mind, could i request for a hurt/comfort angst with kaeya and a gn reader? the reader is a fellow knight of favonius that regularly gets dunked on by their friends for their crush on the cavalry captain—but every time their friends insist they confess to him, they joke that “sure, i’ll tell him when i die.” and then they actually nearly die.

while on a mission with kaeya, something terrible happens that seemingly pushes the reader to the brink of death. they’re in his arms and convinced they’re about to die, so with their “dying” breath, they tell kaeya that they’re in love with him before the world goes black.

but then they wake up. 👁 (you know the drill—what happens next is completely up to you!!!)

featuring: kaeya x gn!reader

warnings: good ol' angst, some descriptions of blood, lots of typos lol

published: may 27, 2021

form: imagine

a/n: hi anon!! i'm glad you liked that imagine www and thank you for sending me ideas again! you know how much i love angst and kaeya lol~ also please forgive me for making it so long, i tried to challenge my writing abilities a bit more.

You came into this mission knowing that it would be quite a bit more difficult than the ones you typically took on. You were merely a B-rank knight, working on your certification to reach A-rank status, which definitely was not an easy feat. Yet the open commission to investigate a newly-uncovered set of ruins in Dadaupa Gorge was requiring one more member of the dual-member expedition team. When you saw who had occupied the first position for the mission, you threw caution to the wind and signed your name for position two, despite the mission being ranked A-level, at the very least. The occupied position? Filled by none other than Kaeya Alberich, captain of the Knights of Favonius cavalry, S-rank soldier and swordsman, and your former mentor. Who also happened to be the man you had hopelessly fallen for. 

The mission was assigned by the headquarters of the Knights, specifically for fully-trained Knights only, as the nature of the mission would be too dangerous for your run-of-the-mill adventurer team, and the Knights did not want to be held accountable for any potential casualties or injuries as a result of a mission gone wrong. You and Kaeya had been assigned to go investigate a newly-uncovered set of ruins in the Whispering Woods, supposedly already showing signs of being an Abyss rendezvous point. Apparently, the team of archaeologists who uncovered the ancient rocks from behind a thicket of trees had had many difficulties even making it back to the city of Mondstadt alive. You were frightened, no doubt about it, but you also knew that this was your chance. Your chance to prove yourself and your capability as a knight. Back in your training days before you took the certification exam to become a knight, you were Kaeya’s favorite pupil, a star student. Also possessing a Cryo vision, like the captain himself, certainly did not hurt your reputation in his eyes. Now, having taken on and excelled at countless dangerous B-rank missions, you felt confident in your ability to take on a mere A-rank mission, especially with the captain of the cavalry at your side. 

You had almost forgotten about the icy presence at your side, lost in your own daydreams of ambition. After following the paths leading out of Mondstadt, weapons and supplies ready at hand, you and Kaeya had finally made it to the edge of the Whispering Woods. It was starting to get dark, even though the two of you had left reasonably early in the day. The woods seemed so much more vast when their shadows grew longer, waning by the last seams of daylight. Faint howling moaned through the leaves (”Wolves? In the Whispering Woods?”, you thought to yourself), and you felt yourself tremble in the slightest. You couldn’t tell if it was due to the fear or the overwhelmingly strong Cryo aura that Kaeya emitted.

The tall man seemed unaffected by the ominous surrounding, forever carrying himself with an unwavering assuredness. He looked onwards, into the woods, eyes darting back and forth, exhibiting the remarkable surveying skills of a seasoned knight. 

“Well, [y/n]”, Kaeya turned to you, with that smug yet rather comforting voice of his. “Are you ready?”

Kaeya’s unshakeable confidence was rather spiriting, you had to admit. Nothing like traipsing into a wild forest, overrun with archons-know-what, with only your own wits and a cunning, distractingly handsome knight to guide you. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose”, you replied, trying to hide the rookie anxiety from trembling your voice. Damn it, you weren’t even a rookie. You were one of the more experienced knights in the entire Knights of Favonius. You could handle this. Plus, Kaeya has your back. In all the years you had known him, Kaeya had never dropped that rogue-ish grin off of his delicate countenance--he had the face of a prince, but marred with the implications of his mysterious eyepatch (he had never told you how he had lost that eye) and the pierce of his sly smile. It made him all so painfully attractive. 

You hate to recall the very first day you met him, the two of you only teenagers, barely adults grown into their own skin, yet he stood at the front of the training yard like the prolific swordsman he was, tan skin gleaming beneath the summer sun, hair tied behind his neck, sinewy muscles stretching as he maneuvered the sword in his hand like it was an extension of his own being. That day, you swore that you would become like Kaeya, that you would learn all you possibly could from him. That was also the day you had fallen hopelessly for the charismatic boy, though you were not aware of it just yet. 

Trudging into the forest, you made sure to clutch the weapon at your side a little tighter, wary of any potential threats that could appear in front of you at any moment. You never know how much the Abyss mages could use their magic--they are always using the spirits of Teyvat for evil. Although you had only encountered Abyss mages a small handful of times in your past B-rank missions, you already knew how perilous an interaction with any of them could be. The last time you and a partner engaged with a Pyro mage, you left the site with severe magic burns to your side, which took at least three months to fully heal. Looking at Kaeya, he appeared to be as relaxed as ever, both hands loosely tucked into his pockets, his steps led by his elegant hips. The eerie silence of the woods didn’t seem to bother him at all, a comfortable void between the both of you.

“So, captain”, you begun, doing your best to break the proverbial ice a bit, trying not to let the emptiness of the whole forest get to your head. “How have you been? It’s been a while since we last took an assignment together, I believe. 3 months already, isn’t it?”

Kaeya chuckled. “Oh, drop the formalities, [y/n].” He looked at you with his singular, unobscured eye with a teasing glance. “You’ve always known me as just Kaeya, havent you?”

Blood rushed to your face, although not entirely unwelcome, due to the chilliness of the forest. You hoped that the twilight shadows could hide your red cheeks from the man beside you.

“To answer your question, I am doing exceptionally well, thank you”, he smirked. “Although, the last time I did see you was only about a month ago, at the Windblume Ball. Not sure if you remember it all though—you were rather... intoxicated, it seemed.”

Oh, archons. You didn’t know if your face could possivly get any redder from the embarassment. The Windblume Ball was a month prior, hosted by the Knights for all citizens of Mondstadt to attend, to end the Windblume Festival with a night of wine, music, and dancing. Your group of friends within the Knights convinced you to attend along with them, though they didnt quite succeed at convincing you to finally confess your attraction to the captain of the cavalry himself. You acquiesced only on the condition that you would not have to interact with Kaeya at all that night. The anxiety was simply too much and you did not want to deal with the potential situation of seeing Kaeya in formalwear and absolutely losing your mind, let alone Kaeya seeing you dancing and drinking.

“Oh, come on, [y/n]”, your friends had whined. “If you don’t tell him now, when will you ever? He most definitely finds you attractive, as well.” Chuckling, you took a sip of the wine lrovided by the Dawn Winery. You cringed at the sourness of cheap grapes. “I’ll tell him when I’m dead.” You took another sip of the wine, but over the rim of the glass, you saw the one person you were hell-bent on avoiding.

Kaeya Alberich stood across the room, talking to one of the other knights. He was dressed to the nines, in clothing you had never seen him don before. His hair was parted neatly, his long lovelock secured by a large sapphire band. His lean, upper body was covered by a three piece suit, fitted perfectly around his narrow waist, tailcoat resting neatly by his thick, carved thighs. His pants were pressed tightly, without a wrinkle, and he had brought along his usual white fur cape, giving him the sophisticated look of a king.

In awe, you spluttered in your drink as he caught your eye from across the room, clearly noticing you were staring at him. You turned the other way, seeing that your friends were making fun of your oblivious gawking, and they now excitedly pointed behind you, mouthing the words he’s coming! You tried your best to smooth down your hair and pat down your outfit, before turning back around to see that the captain was standing in front of you, face-to-face, with his hand outstretched.

He looked even more sparklingly glamorous up close, an image of old-world elegance that you never knew him capable of portraying. You suddenly felt more drunk than any cheap wine could possibly make you. Kaeya looked at you, a gleam in his eye, and asked

“May I have this dance, [y/n]?”

The rest of the night was a blur, what with your continued consumption of alcohol, convincing yourself you needed to periodically top up your liquid courage. Kaeya had asked you for a few more dances, as far as you remembered. But from what you could recall, he was just as elegant and charismatic as you had always remembered him to be. He never made you feel out of place.

It was awful that Kaeya only seemed to remember how disgustingly drunk you were, but you were thankful at least that he didn’t seem to recall the perpetual state of flusteredness you were in that night, by his mere presence beside you, and his hands guiding yours as you both danced to the upbeat music of the band.

“Archons, I assure you that I am not the unabashed drunkard I may have seemed to be that night”, you chuckled.

Kaeya let out a hearty laugh, his voice reminding you of the sounds of the bells ringing atop the Cathedral. “Of course not, my dear”, he drawled. “I’ve met many a drunkard in my day—you are far from one; I promise.”

You and Kaeya kept on your way in this manner, making pleasant small talk to fill the silence. You didn’t dare tell him for fear of seeming a coward, but hearing his voice and reminiscing with him diminished the fright you initially felt, entering the woods and taking on this assignment. Kaeya was a master conversationalist, and diplomat too, no doubt, always knowing what to say at what time. His warm remarks and playful banter took your mind off of the imminent danger of your situation, and you didn’t notice the path you were both on narrowing. The sun had already set, and the woods were doused in an eerie darkness, and as you and Kaeya approached the vicinity of the ruins, the thickets grew denser and the tree branches hung lower. Not a sound could be heard--

Until suddenly, Kaeya stepped in front of you, blocking your path with an arm outstretched. Shit. You smelled Abyss magic. How could you have possibly missed the putrid scent of sulfur before? 

Kaeya’s grin had fallen. His attention was now beyond only you, as if trying to detect something he sensed nearby. Out of nowhere, a hum grew, louder, until an earblasting pop rang out in front of you and Kaeya, and in its place were three Pyro Abyss mages. Three. You could handle one, if you had a partner with you, but three? 

Terror ran down your spine, knowing how difficult your Cryo vision could be against a Pyro mage. Your hand unsheathed the sword at your side with blinding speed, just like you were trained, but before you could even take a step forward, Kaeya was already charging at the mages, ice blasting forth from his swordtip, smashing up against the mages’ shields.

“Aren’t ya glad I caught that, [y/n]?” Kaeya teased, sword cutting through the air and the force fields surrounding the mages, as their strained groans pierced the night air. His movements were swift and effortless; at times his movements were so fast that it looked like he teleported from one spot to the next. This was the grace, the beauty of a true prodigy. “If I hadn’t stopped you, we would’ve been roast boar by now!” 

You jumped into action, assisting Kaeya with his assaults against the mages, doing your best to dodge the onslaught of fireballs. You felt the heat of the fire magic graze your extremities more than once, counting your blessings that it was nothing critical. The way the two of you moved in unison, one complementing the other, like an avalanche of piercing ice, was a testament to the years of experience you gained in under Kaeya’s expert tutelage. One sword piercing the left, the other the right, until you both had broken down two of the Pyro mages’ shields. You had never gotten through their force fields in such rapid succession before, you thought, in awe. Swinging your sword calculatedly, whilst utilizing your vision and shooting out ice crystals, you defeated the mage, dealing a killing blow, piercing its side with your sword. You watched the creature groan out gutturally, and eventually dissipate into ash, drifting away. 

Turning around, you noticed that Kaeya had already taken care of the other mage, already breaking down the final one’s shield. He dodged each blast of Pyro magic with grace and ease, not even showing any sign of fatigue. 

“Hey, good work rookie!”, Kaeya teased, activating his ultimate Cryo weapon, sending a halo of ice crystals about his body, knocking into the mage’s shield with every swing.

You huffed. “I’m not a rookie”, you called back, joining him in his siege upon the last enemy. Exhaustion was quickly catching up to you, although you tried to hide it. You couldn’t let Kaeya down. 

Over and over, the pair of you banged upon the force field with your swords, with more difficulty than any of the previous mages. This one was different, somewhat stronger. The grass surrounding the two of you was already lit up in flames, licking at your ankles. If you even so much as tripped, the heat would probably damage you more than a fireball could. 

“Watch out, rookie”, Kaeya yelled in your directions, trying to be heard above the cackling of the mage and the raging flames, already beginning to catch onto the trees nearby. The night was filled with a reddish glow--hellish and suffocating. “I think it’s about to activate it’s ultimate.”

The cackling grew louder, as you worked yourself into a frenzy, shooting more and more ice crystals, trying to break it’s force field. Three, dragon-like heads began to emerge around where the mage floated. Fuck. The fire-breathers were out. You had only ever fought a Pyro mage that could use fire-breathers once before--that also happened to be the instance that caused you to be an invalid for several months, healing from a deep flesh burn. But Kaeya was here this time. Things would be okay, right?

You could tell Kaeya was growing panicked as well, his swings becoming a bit more hurried and erratic. You didn’t know, but he was deathly worried about you. He had no idea how experienced you were with dodging the fire-breathers, and he knew he had to make quick work of the blasted mage before things could escalate, Archons forbid you get hurt. Kaeya activated his ultimate once more, and, finally, the mage’s shield broke. 

You heaved a sigh of relief, closing in on the Pyro mage. Kaeya’s strength and incredible reliability in battle did not fail to impress you, even beyond just the prowess he had demonstrated as a trainee and a mentor. You finally activated your own ultimate, summoning a boulder made of hard ice. Approaching the mage as you saw it struggle to get up off the ground, the ice in your boulder began to form, and you willed it to hurl towards the mage, intending to finish it off. Finally, you would show Kaeya your true strength, your capability. He could depend on you. Hell, you were his star student. Even if you were afraid to tell him about how he had stolen your heart, you could at least show him that the time and effort he had dedicated to you wasn’t for naught. 

The seconds slowed down, as the blinding white ice made its way through the air, aimed straight at the pathetic mage, groveling in the dirt. But beyond the ice, was something even brighter, not making its way to the mage; no, it was headed straight at you. A fireball. 

You felt an excruciating pain on your left side, right below your ribcage. A scream in the distance--the mage? No; it was Kaeya’s voice. The white-hot pain blinded you, as you felt your back make contact with the hard ground beneath you. Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit. Archons, what will Kaeya think? 

Vaguely willing your arm to press into your side to assess the damage, you felt warm, sticky liquid pooling on your waist. Lifting a hand, you saw it drenched in crimson blood, dark in the moonlight. You heard another scream again nearby, this time coming from the guttural squeaks you knew was the mage, the dying cries of a pitiful monster. At once, a pair of arms lifted you from the ground, supporting your head. What a damned disappointment you were. 

“[y/n]! [Y/N]! DAMMIT!” You had never heard Kaeya this worked up before. The pain of hearing the panic in his voice was also tinged with a selfish gladness that he cared, that Kaeya Alberich gave a damn if you died. Because, in that moment, you were certain you would die.

Straining out a chuckle, your chest racked up a wet cough, sticky blood now staining the edges of your lips. I’ll tell him when I’m dead, you once said. Well, isn’t this all quite ironic.

“Fucking hell, [y/n], I need you to keep your eyes open”, Kaeya commanded. He was using his captain voice, the one that only comes out when a new recruit wasn’t following orders. “Rookie, don’t you dare pass out on me.” His voice wavered.

Would it be worth it to tell him now? Did you want his last memory of you to be a pathetic, wishful fantasy spilling forth from your bloodstained lips, like the nonsense uttered by a mere child? Your vision spun faster, losing sight of Kaeya, hovering over you. You couldn’t make out his features too clearly in the darkness, but something about the wet drops of water landing on your cheeks told you that it wasnt more blood. You supposed that you should do yourself justice and at least keep the one promise you made that night in Mondstadt.

Straining to open your mouth, you uttered, “Kaeya, I—”

But before you could muster the strength to speak another word, your vision went dark.

*****

The first thing you heard when you woke up was the sound of birds chirping. The second was a silent snoring sound coming from somewhere to your right.

Cracking your weary eyes open, you sensed the faint light of the early morning coming in through an nearby window. Getting your bearings, you realized you had woken up in the Knights of Favonius headquarters hospital. Your damaged adventurer’s clothes were gone, and instead you could feel bandages dressed around the wound at your side. Oh, right. You thought you had died.

Trying to sit up, you fekt an excruciating pain burn through the side of your body that had been hit, setting your nerves on fire. You hissed, and the snoring beside you abruptly stopped.

“Archons, you’re awake.”

Kaeya sat up from the chair he had apparently been sleeping in, still dressed in his captain’s armor, just as dirt-covered and singed as when you last saw him. Was that only last night? You figured Kaeya must have hurried you back to the city before your condition could get any worse.

Fuck. As all your memories of the prior night came flooding back, your eyes pooled up with salty tears. Not only had you cone closest to death than you’ve ever had, you had completely disappointed Kaeya and made a fool of yourself in front of him.

“Kaeya, I’m so sorry—”, you started.

Your words were interrupted by the man next to you leaping into your embrace, arms wrapping your shoulders where you were not injured. “Dammit, [y/n]. When won’t you just shut up.” His voice was muffled by his face buried into your neck. “You don’t have to say a word.”

It scared you, seeing him vulnerable. The ever-cocky and cunning captain of the cavalry, the man who always had a plan and was never caught off-guard. Now, a man bearing his innermost emotions to you, little old you. Had he heard what you begun to tell him last night? Or were things going to return back to the way they were, you admiring his dazzling beauty from a distance, comfortable yet agonized at the degree of separation.

You hoped to the archons for the latter. You hoped that it wouldn’t take another instance where you almost lost your life for the love you felt for him to spill forth. Archons, even if you had to die, it would still all be worth it, if it were with him at your side.

Kaeya trembled as he pressed himself deeper into you, desperately clinging on. “Don’t you dare open your mouth, rookie”, he chided. “I don’t want to hear something you’ll only tell me when you’re almost gone. Please just let me do the talking.”

Pulling back, you looked at him in confusion. His hair was disheveled, eyepatch slightly askew, yet his face was full of an almost childlike wonder, akin to the gleam he possessed when you had first met him, however many years ago.

“Do you think I did it all for nothing?” Kaeya looked at you. “Do you think all those years of training together, eating together, soarring together, was all because I thought you had potential as a soldier? The private walks through Windrise, the nights spent at the tavern, the dance, that damned dance we shared—what did you think that was?” Desperate and exhausted, Kaeya’s eye began to shimmer with tears. “Fucking hell, [y/n]. I’ve always loved you. Since the very beginning, you idiot. Why else would I dedicate all my time, all my energy to you and only you?” He grasped your shoulders tighter. “If you think that I haven’t been madly in love with you since I first laid eyes upon you that day, then you’re fucking wrong.”

You cut him off, burying your hands into his hair—pain be damned—and kissed him. It was bitter and metallic, the taste of both of your blood on your tongue. Kaeya’s neck was ice cold, but his cracked lips were thick and warm, and when you pulled away from them, you suddenly felt like you could take on the world.

“Well”, you remarked. “I’m glad that we got that out of the way.”

a/n: uhuhuhu this is pretty long but i hope you like it! i wanted to improve my writing a bit and elaborate on descriptions a bit more, so i hope i did your request justice!

[gaiuswrites]

World's Best

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!Reader

Summary: Not every day is easy. Frankie makes it better.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 2.2k~

Warnings/tags: smut, vague-ish descriptions of depression/mental health, hurt/comfort, fluff

Notes: Do y'all ever get into a funk and then attempt to write yourself out of one? Well, this is the v self-indulgent product of said instance heh. I have tagged a random assortment of potentionally interested people but obvi no pressure? idk? :) Sending so much love and well wishes to you guys. x

Masterlist | Read it on Ao3!

A sea of knotted sheets spans between you—as tangled as your legs—too tired, too leaden to unweave. The fan rotates in the corner, blowing stale air your way every few clicks. You dangle a foot off the bed, skin prickling as the weak breeze sweeps over you and a bead of sweat licks from your knee to slope down your calf. Morning sun leaks through the window— the finch perched on the tree just outside it chirping once, twice, before flitting off.

You’ve been reading the Sunday paper for a solid twenty minutes—which, in all honesty, is an overstatement; you started and quickly abandoned the Sudoku after a measly ten, and you’ve been staring at the same sentence in the local section for the other half, blinklessly hovering over the fine print.

You’re not here today. Not all of you.

There’s this sinking feeling, hollowing you out and unmaking you. It’s as if something unseeable is oozing over you - dripping - something treacle, something thick. You’re far away from yourself—far from the cornflower blue walls and the framed photos hanging on them—the happy faces in the pictures smiling back at you— far from the plants basking in the tines of filtered light by the sill, far from the body lying beside you.

You’re not always this way. Not every day drags like an inky smear, your mind meandering sluggishly in circles, holding you hostage in a prison of your own making; but you can’t say it’s foreign to you either. It’s old, familiar—like that sweater in your closet you’ve had for centuries and rarely wear, but can’t bring yourself to get rid of. You know it well, this slog—you have unwillingly memorized it’s sodden intricacies, and today you feel it. You feel every single one of your days—each grey hour— weighing heavy on your very bones.

heavy heavy

heavier, still.

If you’re not careful, you’ll sink straight through the mattress. You’ll nestle deep into the springs and make a home in the down. You’ll sleep there until you become it. Comfortable. Catatonic.

Frankie sips his coffee. He doesn’t look up from the email he’s skimming. “What’s wrong?”

The baritone of your boyfriend’s voice sucks you back to the present—to the tick of the clock marking the seconds, the whir of the fan. The paper crinkles as you lay it to your chest—big eyes feigning ignorance as you blink up at him, chewing your lip. “Hmm?”

“Baby, I know that face.”

“What face?”

“The one you’ve got on,” he replies, “that’s your ‘I’m-upset-and-I’m-trying-to-hide-it’ face.’”

“I-” you frown, “no it’s not.” Gingerly, you pat a hand around your temple, your cheek, as if you could see your expression through touch.

“Uh huh.” Frankie rolls his digit upon the mousepad, clicking and scrolling down the webpage, and your vision glazes over again—ugly thoughts fogging up the panels of your mind—

“You gonna talk to me about it?”

You blink, swallowing, “nothing to talk about.” You flap the paper, ironing out the pleats, and scan for that pesky paragraph you never managed to finish.

“Mhm,” he replies absentmindedly, bringing the mug to his lips and drinking with an all too obvious slurp.

“Really, I’m fine,” you say weakly. You’re not that convincing—you barely convince yourself.

“Sure, sweetheart. If you say so.”

He’s too casual; he’s letting it all go too easily and God, he’s gotten good at this—at coaxing the truth out of you. He doesn’t even have to try any more. He’s so kind and open and sincere, all he has to do is crack the door ajar—tempt you with an inch of space, with only a sliver of leeway—and immediately you want to plunge through it and chase after him, like a dog and a bone.

He makes you want to share; not because of what he says, but by everything he doesn’t—the welcoming gaps he leaves you with, the gaps you’re urged to fill. This happens every time—it’s pretty damn annoying, actually. You’re so miserably predictable. After three and a half years together, sometimes you think Frankie might know you better than you know yourself.

A scary thought—wonderful, too.

“I’m just-” You run a hand over your face, pressing into the bridge of your nose and you grunt, frustrated. Exhausted. “I’m just tired.”

Frankie settles his coffee cup on the hill of his sternum, closing his laptop quietly. He swivels his head to you, hair mussing into the wall.

“Of anything in particular?” he asks, linen soft.

“No, yes—I don’t know,” you heave—an errant thing fluttering around in your chest as you fold the newspaper, letting it float to the floor with a splat. “It’s just-” you worry the inside of your cheek raw, fumbling with the blur of your emotions. You shake your head. “It’s just a bad brain day.” Your voice is small as you slump into him, letting your body go limp.

“I’m sorry I get like this. I’m okay—I’ll be okay,” you mumble, face burrowed into his arm. He smells summered, like sweat and heat and the promise of long days fading into even longer nights, and you take a heady drag, inhaling his scent.

You hear him sigh, stretching as he sets the mug and computer down on the side table. He shifts back to you, snaking an arm under your body as you coil your own around his center, hugging him close.

“You know, it’s alright if you’re not,” Frankie murmurs into your hair, planting a kiss at the crown of your head. “And you know you don’t have to hide from me when you aren’t.” His thumb finds your arm, the chewed nail bed scratching soothing circles along your skin.

Your gut somersaults, flipping and purring, and all you can do is press your lips to the cottoned shoulder of his tee shirt—the one with the holes in the collar and motor oil stain on the hem; all you can do is tighten your grasp, wringing around his cozy waist.

“And you know that nothing you say is gonna scare me away, right? I’m always going to be here for you.” Frankie gives your forearm a reassuring squeeze.

God, this man.

You nuzzle further into his chest—snuggled and swaddled in the safety of his warmth—and you mumble something incoherent, muffled against his relaxed body. His beard catches on your fly-aways as he dips to hear you better. “What was that honey?”

“I said,” you crane your neck, lifting out of his side, “you really are the ‘world’s best uncle’.”

A ripple of confusion twists over his features before you bat your eyes up to meet his, shooting a glance over to that exact phrase wrapping itself around the ceramic cup beside him.

You got stuck with it at some terrible white elephant exchange last Christmas. It’s fucking tacky and aggressively large—not even you - you, in all your caffeine dependency - can chug that much coffee fast enough in one sitting without it going cold— and neither of you have any nieces or nephews to speak of…

Naturally, it’s become your favorite mug.

Frankie barks out a laugh, his stomach flexing against your grasp. “Oh yeah? Is that all I am?” he smirks, a glint of mischievousness reflecting in his irises as he bores down at you.

You quirk an eyebrow, a coy tug blooming across your lips. “I dunno,” you drawl sweetly, “you going to prove me otherwise?”

His face is split into a grin now, wide and aching and unnecessarily endearing. His hair is a mess, wavy tufts jutting out every which way, and his eyelids are still puffy from what little slumber he was lucky enough to get in your hot, cramped apartment.

You really can’t keep putting it off—you need to buy an AC unit.

His focus dances from your eyes to your mouth, breath hitching as he watches you skip your tongue over the plush mound there. “I just might,” he growls playfully, maneuvering you onto your back with one broad swoop, pinning you to the bed.

/

He makes love to you like a man unburdened - untouched - by time. He fucks into you slowly, unhurriedly—at a pace that’s mind numbingly measured and patient. Frankie devastates you, dragging himself through your walls from head to hilt, letting you feel every ridge, every vein of him; filling you up so impossibly well—his thick cock sauntering in and out, and in and out again. Each roll of his hips makes you gasp, his blunt tip brushing against that deep, uncharted chasm within you that tempts you into oblivion. Your legs are locked around him, crossed at the ankles, and the perspiration at the pits of your knees slicks his sides.

Frankie’s palms dimple the fitted sheet as he brackets your head, burying himself into the crook of your neck. He moans—hot breath ghosting over the prickled skin there, babbling disjointed strings of guttural praise into your ear.

Fuck baby—fuck you feel good

How’d I get so lucky, how’d I-

God, you’re a— fuck

You’ve got the perfect pussy—made for me

Made for me, made for me, made for-

You turn your head and capture his mouth with your own, whimpering into him as he nips at your bottom lip and bites. You scrape your fingers through his scalp, pulling at his locks, and Frankie whines a tortured noise—giving an especially hard thrust that pries a yelp from your throat. He rears his head back, catching your gaze, a concerned line creased into his brow. “Y-You okay?”

“No- nono, yes Frankie. Again, right there,” you beg, lashes fluttering.

He darkens—the timbre of his voice made husky and raw as he drinks in the sights and sounds of you mewling for him, splayed and needy. “You like that?” Frankie drives into you again, sharp and searing as he bottoms out, the smattering of curls at the base of him soaked with your gloss. “You need it hard, baby? You want it rough?”

You whimper, clawing desperately at the nape of his neck. “I just—I just want you, all of you,” you pant as you hold his stare—the gorgeous, chestnut gleam of it—and the wordless expression that crests over his features makes you want to cry. The precious indent in his cheek, the stubble littering his jaw, his sculpted nose and clever lips, the sad rings under his eyes—the grooves he thinks you don’t notice, the grooves he tries to mask by always taking care of you, always putting you first, even when he shouldn’t.

Fuck, he’s so beautiful—he’s so beautiful you could weep.

“You have me,” he rasps breathlessly, bowing to meet you in a messy whirl of tongue and teeth before breaking away—forcing himself up off his hands and back onto his shins. He hooks an elbow under your knee, letting the other frame the outside of his hip. “I’m right here—you have me, you have me-”

Frankie’s hips are frantic now, pulsing in short, strong bursts as he grinds into you. He dips a hand to your center, pad of his thumb working erratic, sloppy flicks over the sensitive nub of your swollen clit. Your feet arch, the muscles there constricting as the tension in you mounts.

“Babe.” You’re whining now, vulnerable and shaking and fuck, you’re going to come apart—any moment now, any unbearable second, you’ll snap. “F-Frankie, baby oh god—”

You clamp a hand over your mouth, eyes screwing shut as you shatter. Like a vase crashing onto kitchen tile, you break into a million jagged fragments. Your cunt seizes, legs spasming against him as he fucks you through your orgasm, and it doesn’t take long for the tight contractions of your heat to yank him right off that same ledge. The both of you—tumbling and fracturing into terrible, perfect shards—to be intermingled and scattered among each other’s glass pieces.

Indiscernible. The same.

When you glue yourself back together again, you will find parts of him there - here, within you - filling your jigsawed cracks like golden ore.

Frankie slips out of you with a squelch and a huffed groan, collapsing to the mattress in a panting heap. His cum dribbles from your apex and you shiver at the feeling of it—at the feeling of him, warm and wet and lingering inside you. He rests his cheek on your breast while you both catch your breath—rising, falling. Waxing, waning. Two pitter-pattering hearts beating in time.

The sheets have been sloughed, lazy and forgotten, to a crumpled pile on the wood floor and the steam once rising from the mug on the nightstand has long since disappeared. It’s too muggy for you two to be this entwined—his leg draped over you, a big arm slung across your belly—but neither of you dare move. Neither of you have the energy, never mind the desire.

The clock whispers in the morning quiet.

A new bird claims the branch the finch left—she sings now, roosting there in the birch.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur sleepily, drawing patterns into the valley of his spine, mapping out his freckles and moles and scars. “Thank you,” you say. Thank you for putting up with me, thank you for understanding me, thank you for listening even when I cannot speak. “I love you so much.”

Gently, silently, Frankie tilts his head, bristled hair peppering your flesh as he mattes your skin with his lips; laving along your breasts, across your clavicle and up the plain of your neck—each kiss a response, each kiss a truth.

You don’t have to apologize

You don’t have to thank me

I love you

I love you

I’m right here

I love you

tags:

@pedros-mustache @roxypeanut @frannyzooey @djarinsbeskar @read-and-rec @keeper0fthestars @krissology @greatcircle79

[mello-jello]

hi jello!! what about post timeskip levihan? commander hanji is working very hard and rarely, rarely sleeps (let alone eats and bathes properly. its worse than before now though.).

what if one time levi discovers hanji passed tf out due to sheer exhaustion in the most weird and random of places. he doesn’t want to wake them up bc hanji def needs the rest so he carries/tucks her into bed.🥺❤️

JAZZY thank you for the prompt! I kind of combined it with this one too:

Thank you, Anon!

Preview:

Hange gave a small laugh before saying, “Thank you Levi, I feel much better now.”

“Tch, you haven’t even done what we came here to do,” Levi scoffed.

Hange made a confused sound.

“Drop the dish.”

It had been 3 years since Shiganshina. Levi climbed into the carriage and sat across from Hange, who was still reading through her notes from the long and grueling meeting that lasted for the better part of the day. All the highest ranking military officials had been called to the capital to discuss Paradis’s best course of action. Queen historia was there, along with her staff, advisors, and of course Zackley. Levi had been to plenty of these meetings before, but this time was different in a bit of a distressing way.

Over the years, Levi had watched Erwin defend the scouts countless times. From questionable means of gathering information, to explaining away hundreds of lives lost, he always had an answer for everything and he always managed to leave with a favourable image. It was something Levi truly admired and even envied about Erwin.

But now he had been watching Hange flounder. She has indeed improved over the last 3 years, but she still doubts herself and while it might not be known to those around her, Levi can’t help but feel sympathetic to her situation. Today however, the other officials had been particularly ruthless.

“Take a break, Hange,” Levi ordered. Hange just sighed. Then her stomach growled. “Have you eaten today?”

“Uuuuuuuhhh,” Hange mused as she genuinely struggled to remember.

“Tch, there’s your answer,” Levi crossed his arms. The rest of the officials had a big dinner scheduled for tonight, but of course the Survey Corps got shafted and had to leave early in order to prepare. Hange met his eyes again with an exhausted look he was all too familiar with.

“How have you been sleeping?”

“Not great,” she admitted. Levi’s stomach sank. He had dealt with his own insomnia his whole life, but it seems worse on Hange. Perhaps it was the stark contrast from her former bubbly and loud personality. Hange pinched the bridge of her nose and let out another long sigh. Levi couldn’t help feeling inadequate and helpless. He rarely got himself to sleep, how could he help Hange?

Levi looked out the window at the setting sun when he got an idea. He realized what Hange had been neglecting while trying to be a good commander. Something that wasn’t just eating and sleeping. Something that was unique to Hange.

“Hange, there’s one more thing you need to do before we leave.”

Hange raised an eyebrow.

Levi told the driver to wait for them and escorted Hange to the dining hall.

“Levi, we were technically invited, but I don’t think showing up for food after we already said goodbye is a very good look for us,” Hange practically whispered.

Levi opened the doors and they were greeted with a sweet aroma of bread, appetizers, and whatever was going to be the main dish. Hange’s mouth watered. The long elegant table was decorated with ornate candles, beautiful china, crystal glasses, and there were 4 sets of cutlery for each place setting.

“Relax, they won’t be here just yet. They will all be busy getting dressed for dinner.”

Hange grabbed a bread roll and took a huge bite, not bothering to chew before she commented, “I never understood ‘dressing for dinner’ ugh. What’s the point?”

Levi was about to make a half hearted comment about how Hange could never fit in with “civilized” society, but he stopped himself when he saw she was eating and was a little bit more relaxed. He found a small plate of savoury looking appetizers and handed it to her. She immediately took one.

“MMM, Levi!” she exclaimed, pointing at the plate. She popped another in her mouth before saying, “you gotta try these!”

Levi put up a hand and said, “you enjoy.”

Hange enthusiastically cleared the whole platter in less than a minute, and Levi was watching her, endeared at the behaviour. He had missed this side of her. Despite how gross it was, there was a glimpse of the carefree Hange he once knew. A small hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Then Hange belched.

“Disgusting,” Levi waved the air in front of his nose.

Hange gave a small laugh before saying, “Thank you Levi, I feel much better now.”

“Tch, you haven’t even done what we came here to do,” Levi scoffed.

Hange made a confused sound.

“Drop the dish.”

Hange’s one eye widened as she processed what Levi was saying.

“C’mon, you need to blow off some steam. They were total assholes to you today, and for what? You didn’t know the exact amount of your food budget? And yet,” Levi gestured to the banquet. He then picked up a delicate looking wine glass. He held his arm outstretched, and loosened his grip, letting it crash to the ground. “Oops.”

A mischievous smile stretched across Hange’s lips. “Oops,” she mimicked Levi and let the empty platter fall to the floor, breaking into dozens of pieces. She slowly started to lap around the long luxurious set up, like a predator admiring her prey before pouncing.

“Right? And Nile, ugh, what a hypocrite! Giving me shit for not knowing about that small thing, belittling me in front of everyone,” Hange snapped a salad plate against the edge of the table. “It wasn’t too long ago when he would have been the first to admit he had no idea what the first interior squad were up to! We had to find out for ourselves. Erwin was almost hanged!” Hange kicked a chair over on its side.

“Yeah, fuck Nile,” Levi egged her on. He took a seat at the head of the table and started sipping from one of the water glasses.

“Is this his spot?”

Levi shrugged but Hange was already pouring out a glass of wine all over the white seat, staining it a deep crimson. Levi hid his delight behind another sip.

“And did you catch what he said at the end? ‘Some of us have wives to get home to’”, she imitated in a mocking tone as she casually pushed a platter of dumplings off the table. “Yeah, run home, Nile. Run home to Erwin’s SLOPPY SECONDS!”

Levi blew water out of his nose, and before he could react, Hange reached under the short side of the table and flipped it over, sending its contents hurtling across the room. Hange was elated at the result, laughing almost maniacally.

“Idiot,” Levi hissed, grabbing Hange’s wrist and leading her out the side door. He heard footsteps, and so he instinctively dove into nearby shrubbery, taking Hange down with him.

They hid in the bushes for minutes, Levi pressing his hand to suppress Hange’s uncontrollable laughter. It had been so long since she’d laughed like this. It was infectious and Levi might have actually laughed himself, were it not for the fear of getting caught. He had no problem telling the MPs where to shove it, but he didn’t want Hange to get in trouble. Her whole body was convulsing, and it was rattling the leaves around her. Levi used all his body weight to stop her jerky movements.

After about another minute of total silence, Hange tapped Levi’s arm, signalling to let go. He was hesitant, but he obliged. Hange drew a couple deep breaths, fanning herself, trying to calm down from laughing so hard. Levi was transfixed by the way the moonlight danced on her tear-stained face. They stared at each other for a moment before Hange snickered once more, causing Levi to cover her mouth yet again. “You’re impossible,” he said, pushing her head back down.

Once the coast was clear, they ran back to their carriage, hand in hand. Partly because Levi wanted Hange to keep up, and partly because it felt nice to hold her hand. They ducked their heads until they were off of the main roads. A few minutes later, Hange started giggling again.

“What?” Levi asked.

Hange bit her lip playfully as she reached into her coat and pulled out a bottle of expensive wine she must have swiped from the banquet.

Levi rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help his smile. She looked like a child that just got away with stealing more dessert. She looked joyful for the first time in a long time. She yanked out the cork and took a swig before offering the bottle to Levi. He graciously accepted and tasted the wine for himself. It was too sweet for his taste, but he couldn’t deny that it was spectacular.

“That’s nice,” he commented.

“Pfft! It tastes the same as the cheap stuff!” Hange scoffed as she took the bottle back. Any other time, Levi would have teased her and started an argument, but not today. He wanted to cherish this moment. He leaned over to look at the stars through his window. Not a bad ending to an otherwise terrible day.

After Shiganshina, he and Hange had lost so much. Their comrades, friends; life as they knew it had completely changed and they barely had a moment’s breather to come to grips with it all. Levi was unfortunately accustomed to it, but Hange wasn’t. Hange had been so strong through all of this and Levi wanted to find the right words to tell her. Maybe it was the exhaustion they both felt; maybe it was the close proximity, but for some reason, somehow, Levi felt a tiny bit of courage surge through his veins.

“Hey, Hange, I-”

When he turned to look at her, she was fast asleep, neck crooked as she cradled the bottle of wine. Levi smiled at her. She looked peaceful, like she was getting quality sleep. He took the bottle from her arms and gently maneuvered her to a more comfortable, lying down position. He removed his jacket and draped it over her, as a make-shift blanket.

“Goodnight, Four-Eyes,” he mumbled to himself and returned to his seat. Hange slept the whole way home. When they finally arrived in the southern barracks, Levi couldn’t bring himself to wake her up. He quickly ran their luggage up to their rooms, and came back for Hange.

Being as gentle as he could, he scooped up the commander and ignored the curious look he got from the carriage driver. She was taller than him, and her long limbs made the trek a little difficult, but he was determined. Her steady breaths tickled the skin of his neck.

He carried her up the winding staircase and into her quarters. He lowered her on the bed, careful not to go too fast. He cradled her head for a split second longer than he needed too. He took off her long boots one at a time, placing them silently on the floor at the end of the bed. He undid the top two buttons of her jacket and shirt, just for comfort. Then he pulled the blanket up to her chin, and tucked around the sides.

Finally, he removed her glasses and eyepatch, caressing the tender skin underneath. Placing them on her night stand, he got up to leave. The door hinge creaked as he opened it, and Hange stirred.

“Mmm Levi?” She called out.

Levi wasn’t sure if she was actually awake, or if she was sleep-talking. He was still deciding whether he should answer when she continued, “Thank you, Levi. For everything.”

“You too, Hange,” he spoke just above a whisper, as he closed her door.

[tanaka-ryunosakes-husband]

Can u bless us with some more nsfw bottom tanaka content. My boy doesn’t get enough

Yeasssssssss! Headcannons and hopefully blurbs. But I’m terrible at keeping blurbs short. Send help.

NSFW OBVIOUSLY. Male!reader x Tanaka (could be gn, but I mention a dick on the reader. and a daddy)

Okay so. He has a praise kink. praise him and it’s like he gets like a hundred times more sensitive.

Just

He’s sitting in front of you facing a mirror, between your legs. Just getting into foreplay

“You’re doing so good, baby. I need you to keep breathing for me okay? Gotta relax if we’re going to get anywhere tonight.” He nods back into your chest while still twitching and jerking with all of his muscles flexed.

You ease away from his dick to just rub his muscles out. He whines before shivering and actually relaxing into you. “See? I knew you could do it,” you reach for his dick again with one hand while reaching for lube with the other. “You ready for me to prep you? You gonna be a good boy and stay relaxed?”

“Yes. Yes please. I’ll be so good,” he shudders out. You start to maneuver him onto the bed so the position is better to stretch him out. He lies down easily resting up on the pillows. His legs spread out and back with his feet in the air. He held behind his knees to keep steady.

“Ryū, oh my god you’re so pretty laid out like this. I should put you here more often. Your legs are already out of the way too. I knew you were going to be such a good boy. You always are. My good boy, right?” You’ve only been rubbing up and down the back of his thighs, and he’s panting and whining like you’ve been at it for way longer than the ten or so minutes since he asked for this.

“Yes. Your good boy. Only yours. Please touch me. Or finger me. Do something please. I really need it,” you chuckle before obliging. He was your good boy, after all.

He is so happy and grateful for whatever you give him.

He could cum from sucking your dick and dry humping the bed with his pants on.

He is up to try almost anything if you ask him. Even if he doesn’t think he’ll like it. He is a sub bottom that just want to please you.

He’s a cry baby. He just gets so overwhelmed so easily.

Call him a pretty crier.

He wants to be close to you. As much as possible. Even out of sexual contexts. Touch is his love language and he loves big.

You’ve barely got two fingers pumping inside him and he’s already sobbing. His dick is twitching and purple. Left untouched since he got on the bed. He lets go of his legs without letting them drop very far and reaches for your shoulder. He pulls you as close as you let him.

“I know baby. I know. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. Give me a kiss?” He almost head buts you with how quick he does in for the kiss. It’s salty with his tears. His whole face is a mess so the kiss is sloppy. Just as messy and perfect as he is.

“I love you. I love you. I love you so much, just please don’t stop it’s so good. Feels good. So good,” he continues to babble on while you pulled back enough to adjust your hand and add a third finger. It goes in smoother than expected.

“So pretty, just for me…”

he’d be so good for you

you just gotta ask for what you want

so it’s cannon the dude is absolutely shredded. (seriously. skinny jacked? super duper toned but not bulked up. the best body if it’s a “fit”/ athletic body. at least. in my preferences)

imagine him being under you? and all of his muscles are strained and flexed.

hot

He’s got sweat dripping down his face and neck. Just slick and shiny. You’ve been edging him for over an hour, and it’s obvious he’s at his limit.

His muscles go tight as he holds back yet another orgasm. It’s taking all of his strength and control to do so. You haven’t given him the okay, and he isn’t going to disobey you.

“Daddy, please. I need to cum. I can’t do it anymore. please. please. I’ll do anything. Just let me cum,” he asks oh so sweetly. How could you deny your baby boy when he’s been so could for you tonight?

“You need to cum? Wanna cum for daddy?” He nods sharply. “Okay, go ahead. Cum for me. Cum for daddy,” it’s immediate. His body gets even more tense-if it’s possible. His load is falling on his stomach and his body goes slack. Without the cum stopping flowing he twitches and jerks occasionally. You help rub him through it. He’s utterly exhausted.

You pull out before finishing on his stomach too. It’s a pain to clean him up when you’ve cum inside him.

Aftercare is difficult every time. He wants to be held and hold you.

he gets so much needier and clingy than usual. which is already a lot.

But he’s gotta get cleaned up first. sometimes it’s a bath and sometimes it’s warm towels and passing out.

It’s lowkey a fantasy of mine to get a towel warmer so you can have hot towels at the ready. so. you have that here.

get multiple. it’s rude to just have one.

then give him all of the cuddles and fall asleep together.

a big theme has been praise. Praise him! he did so good! let him know!

You reach over to your towel warmer and grab a few. You take your time. Being thorough and gentle are the main priorities. Starting with the cum before sweat and lube. And a final wipe down.

“You did so good for me baby. You getting grounded?” he nods. “ Thank you so much. I always love this time with you. It’s a good escape and one of my favorite ways to relax. You always do so good for me.”

“Thanks for letting me clean you off. It feels good to get the stickiness off of you before we sleep. Thank you baby, you make this so easy on me,” he tries to nuzzle up into your neck and cuddle close, but you have some final things to do before that.

You make sure to turn on the heated blanket and turn off the lights before helping him under the blankets and sheets. He helps you push the duvet off since that’s coated in fluids.

“Thank you baby. You’re always so helpful,” he blushes and a little whine escapes his throat.

“Thank you. That felt really good. You treat me so good.” He’s getting out of the last of his sub headspace, and communicating better now. You give a gently smile at that; pecking the tip of his nose.

He shoves his face into your chest and snuggles as close to your body as possible. You wrap your arms around him. One of his favorite aftercare things is some lazy making out as sleep gradually takes both of you over. He’s always asleep pretty quick.

“Thank you baby. I love you lots.” One final kiss to his head before falling asleep too.

I got a little lazy at the end there. Sorry. uh. yeah. i just didn’t wanna leave you hanging for any longer.

Anyway Masterlist.

[readyforthegarden]

Can't Get Enough of You

Based on the prompts from the lovely @screechesincoherently "i can’t get enough of you." / "you could never hurt me." with sam

A/N: This shit hurt, yo. Also I think I'm going to take a brief break from prompts and smut. Just for a bit. I promise I'll be back to keep y'all fed.

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI! Sensual fluffy smut. If you're a Sam babe, this is gonna wreck ya.

The warmth was what woke you from your deep slumber. A body pressed impossibly close to yours, palms flat your torso to hold you in place. A nose embedded into the hair at the nape of your neck, further warming your bare skin under the duvet. Your tired body stretched to the best of its abilities in this position, and you gently laughed as the arms around you pulled you in even tighter, a small, dissatisfied groan humming from the back of his throat.

“Stay here.” Sam mumbled softly, still half asleep. The bedroom was still dark, just a few patches of moonbeams sneaking through the slats of your blinds. He’d been home from tour for only a week, and you admittedly felt guilty, having had a full schedule the whole time, ending up crashing by 9pm, half your dinner still on your plate. You knew Sam missed you terribly, and you missed him just the same. You’d made sure that last night was the night he wanted since he’d been back. A simple, home-cooked meal, his favorite records on the smart speakers, and deep purple silky, barely there slip dress that always drove him wild with lust and passion.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” you whispered, gently placing your hands over his. “I’m right here.” Sam snuggled into your back even more, his soft, plush lips pressing lingering kisses along your shoulder. His hands gripped at your stomach, and you felt the all too familiar prodding against the back of your thigh as his hips softly, lazily rocked against you. “Sam, how are you not exhausted?��� he simply rolled you over onto your back, attaching his lips to your in a slow, deep kiss. One of his large hands was cupping your face while he maneuvered his body on top of yours, and you understood what he needed. The hours before had been rough, fast and frenzied. Sloppy and desperate, as the two of you joined together for the first time in a long time.

“I can’t get enough of you.” Sam murmured in your ear, pressing a warm kiss just under your earlobe. “I want all of you, baby.” Humming, you ran your hands down his back, dragging your nails gently, getting the shiver from him you wanted. With a few short movements, Sam was nestled between your thighs, hands pressing them into the mattress and his tongue giving you a long, flat lick. Your head fell back into your pillow, eyes closing at the slow tingles of electricity that coursed through your veins and Sam took his time with you. You felt as if his goal wasn’t just to pleasure you, but to taste as much of you as he could. The little sighs that fell from your mouth were like praises to him, and the soft jolt of your hips as his lips closed around your still sensitive clit filled him with pride.

“Sam, baby that feels so good.” you breathed, your hand running through his hair. You made sure to push it back from his face so you could watch him, his eyes flicking up to as his tongue lapped against your skin. The intensity of his lust-blown brown eyes was nearly enough to push you over the edge right there. He knew you were getting close from your squirming and deftly slipped his middle and index fingers inside of you, pumping as your walls clenched around him. “Oh god baby, yeeess..” Sam worked you through your orgasm, lapping up every drop he could before climbing back up your body, engaging you in a steamy kiss. You tasted yourself on his lips and tongue, gasping sharply into his kiss as he glided his cock into your soaked center.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, breaking away from the kiss, staring down at you in concern. You stared up at your love, his eyebrows furrowed, body tensed as he held himself above you. Shaking your head, you reached up a hand and cupped his face, bringing his forehead to rest against yours.

“You could never hurt me.” you assured him softly, bringing your lips to his again. Sam’s body unfroze, his hips beginning to thrust against yours, slowly. He was drawing out his movements as his tongue lapped with yours, as if he was savoring every touch. You hooked your legs around his hips, urging this long thrusts a bit deeper, moaning as his lips sucked at your neck and collarbone. Sam’s hips started to pick up the pace as he rested his weight on you. His arms sliding under you against the sheets and cradling you to him. Your breathing was labored, whether from the weight of your lover on top of you or another impending orgasm, you weren’t quite sure. All you knew was no matter how wild, rough and tumble, or kinky the two of you could get together, Sam making love to you was your best and most favorite of the flavors he offered.

Sam’s soft moans in your ear urged you to lift your hips to meet his, whispering in his ear how good it felt and how close you were. Sam groaned, feeling your walls begin to clench around his cock. His hand slid up your back and cradled the back of your head, kissing you again as his hips stuttered against yours. “Fuck baby, I love you so much.” he sighed against your lips. You gripped onto his shoulders, finding your release again through his shallow pumping.

Sam dragged the tip of his nose across your cheek as he caught his breath and stilled his body. The intimacy that dripped with every touch of his skin against yours was overwhelming in the best way. There are the moments you wished you could drown in, no matter how much you loved the goofy side to him, the genius side of him, or the badass rockstar side of him. Sam’s gentle, sensual soft side was always there, but it was always reserved for just the two of you. You reveled in it selfishly, knowing few, if any others, would get to ever experience him this way.

After a few moments, Sam unwrapped himself from you, laying down closely beside you, stretching out his arms, getting the blood pumping back through them. You rested a hand over your chest, feeling your heart beat against it, counting the beats and trying to regulate your breathing. Once you felt like your legs weren’t completely made of jelly, you got up from the bed, heading to the bathroom to clean yourself up. Once you came back, Sam was on his side, patting your empty spot on the bed. You hurried over and crawled back under the covers, letting him wrap his arms and the duvet around you once more, and finally letting you both drift off to sleep, getting some much deserved rest.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 21 | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: Unfortunately, a new case couldn’t have come at a worse time for Reader, who’s starting to feel that dysphoria Spencer’s always warning her about. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Adults w/ Age Gap (10yr), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, BDSM, Daddy Kink, D/s relationship, degradation, brief mention of consensual dub-con, aftercare included, Sub Drop! Word Count: 6k

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

The television was playing for itself, the sounds only serving as the background soundtrack to Spencer’s lips as he kissed his way down my neck and over my shoulder. I wanted to be angry or annoyed, but each time his mouth met my skin, my body gave in to him.

And when you gave this mouse a cookie, he took everything else with it. Within a single second of my hips rocking back against him as we lay together on the couch, Spencer’s fingers dug into my hip, forcing me against his painfully obvious erection.

“Spencer!” I whined while my hips continued to move with him, “You said you would watch the movie.”

I had known it was a lie when he said it. We both knew it was always going to end like this. But at the same time, I enjoyed teasing him over the fact that out of the two of us that night, he was the one who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

“Then tell me to stop,” he slurred between his kisses that were sure to leave bruises behind. “Tell me that you don’t want me to do this.”

We both also knew there would be no protest from me, and yet Spencer deemed it necessary to continue to shift the odds further in his favor. The same hand that had pulled me to grind against him pushed forward at a torturous pace until it slid into my underwear.

Once the soft whimper left my mouth, he knew he had won. He’d barely even touched me, and I was already a mess. The flashing colors on the LCD in front of me looked just like the backs of my eyelids. I could hardly tell if my eyes were even open anymore.

“How quickly you change your mind when I do this,” Spencer breathed into my ear as he finally slipped a finger inside of me. “I might be flattered if I didn’t know any better.”

It wasn’t the first time we’d had sex since the disaster; it had been a few weeks since, although it had felt like a lifetime. A lifetime that led us back to where we’d begun, wound so tightly together that my mind couldn’t follow his hands or his lips as they traveled wherever they could, memorizing the way each muscle tensed and twitched in response to his ministrations.

“Please, I—“

“Please what?” he ordered, “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Whatever you want.”

There was nothing else to say. It was, apparently, both the right and the wrong answer. I say that it was right because I felt his cock twitch against my backside, and I heard the way the breath shuddered from his lungs. But it was also wrong, because I could hear his teeth clack shut and grind together as he growled, “Do you know what you’re asking for, little girl?”

I wanted to be a brat— to remind him how well-acquainted I was with his methods, and that he’d really mostly been all bark and no bite— but something in the rough drag of his finger against my walls made me pause.

So, I said nothing. That wasn’t the right answer, either.

Everything about him became more feral with every passing second. His breath fanned against my ear and burned my already heated skin. When he spoke, the words felt similarly laced with a heat and rage that almost seemed foreign, “Do you have any idea how many filthy, disgusting things I’ve dreamed about doing to you while I couldn’t touch you?”

What was I meant to say? My throat was closing around any options, insistent that my mouth could only make mistakes right now. I could hardly coordinate my lips to my mind, let alone say something witty. And Spencer hardly seemed in the mood for my usual bratty behavior.

My mind flashed back to the last time he was like this. At the time, it had been a result of something terrible. But this time? I think it was actually a part of something beautiful. Despite the trouble that had originally led to him shoving my face into the sheets so he could find some relief, I couldn’t deny that it had felt good to be that reprieve for him.

I couldn’t imagine how good it would feel this time, with no hurt between us except the kind I trusted him to administer.

“Tell me,” I whispered.

“I have a better idea,” he answered quick enough for me to question if he had actually read my mind. Removing his fingers suddenly, I swear I heard a laugh as he whispered, “Let me show you.”

My vision rocked as my body flipped, and before I knew it my hands were scrambling to grab something, anything, to regain control of the situation before I tumbled off the couch. But I should have known better; Spencer wasn’t going to let me fall.

Just as my nails dug into the cushions, he dropped his weight onto my back. I struggled to breathe for a number of reasons, including the fact his fingers had once again found their way into my underwear.

“Remember the last time you let me use you?” he chuckled, bringing his other arm up to cage me in even closer. “You looked so fucking pathetic. Shaking and begging, even as I split you open.”

The only thing I could do was whine and wonder how he managed to maneuver the little space between me and the couch. If he was still worried about hurting me, he didn’t make it obvious. Nothing about him was gentle; he was ruthless and insistent in the most satisfying ways. As he ran his finger back over my sex, a groan rumbled through his chest.

“And you pretended like this isn’t what you wanted? You’re a filthy liar. You’re practically dripping, little girl.”

“Please—” I tried to appeal, but he must have heard it in my voice. I didn’t want him to stop any more than he wanted to. And he didn’t. With all the force I knew him capable of, Spencer’s free hand covered the back of my head, which he promptly shoved down against the cushion.

“I don’t want to hear your stupid fucking excuses,” he spat, his words laced with greed and vitriol that made my stomach and heart do flips in my chest. “Give me your safe word right now,” he ordered, “before I change my mind and leave you a disgusting, whimpering mess right here.”

I turned my face just enough to breathe, loving the way the friction felt on my already flushed cheeks. “S-Starship,” I said through a pleased gasp.

“Look at that. You aren’t completely clueless,” he laughed.

There were no words for how it felt to be crushed beneath his weight while his fingers worked inside me. I still couldn’t breathe, but I didn’t want to, either. It was just another reminder that he didn’t need his hand around my neck to take anything away from me. I was helpless to his whims, and in that cage, I’d never felt freer.

Still, his hands managed to switch between doting and domineering, and he almost seemed merciful when he cooed, “So then what’s your excuse for lying to me? For pretending like you weren’t begging me to do this?”

“I don’t have one, sir,” I slurred, my lips dragging on the cushion with every movement. I could hardly focus on that, though, when Spencer’s weight was lifted from my back. My lungs quickly tried to fill with deep, desperate gasps.

“Wrong answer, little girl.”

The oxygen I did manage to bring in left just as fast when he grabbed my hip, lifting my bottom half until my knees were settled on the couch and my arms were bent by my head. Even when he started to tug my pants and underwear down my legs, he kept his other hand thrusting rhythmically between my legs. I could feel how close I was to losing myself completely to him. I didn’t even fight it, letting all the keening cries and whimpers fall from my lips without any hesitation.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” I sobbed, keeping my face down as hard as I could while I started to shake. But then his fingers stopped, slowly dragging out of me and dragging a wet finger down my leg.

“‘Daddy’ isn’t going to get you out of this one,” he growled.

The burning in my body was unbearable. I couldn’t even push myself back against him or appeal to him in any way. His hand splayed over one cheek dug into the skin and I felt the crescent shapes as they dutifully marked my skin. They were followed by the snapping sound of a firm slap against skin.

There would be so many marks, but all I could think of was how I wanted more.

“I’m sorry,” I cried again, trying to look up at him with that pitiful pout he loved to see.

“No,” he corrected, “You think you’re sorry now, but you aren’t. You will be, though.”

There was no other warning, no further preparation for the feeling of him stretching me open. He was kind enough to move slowly at first, although that tenderness was contrasted by the way he left welts in the wake of his hands, which trailed down my back at the same torturous pace.

Once we were entirely connected, he let his hand drift over my jaw, brushing my hair out of my eyes. I couldn’t keep our gazes together for too long. It felt dangerous, like looking directly at a predator. A challenge to his authority.

But where else could I look, if not at him? My eyes immediately fell forward at the reflection of the two of us in the glass panes of the entertainment console. What I saw sent a shiver down my spine as my desire reached impossible heights.

Spencer felt it, too.

“Go ahead and watch yourself,” he said with equal parts cruelty and kindness, “Watch what you make me do to you.”

So I did. I watched the way his hips carefully pulled away just to snap forward again, burying himself in me and eliciting a pained cry from my throat. Each thrust went just like that, with him bottoming out with a small jolt of pain. I couldn’t complain though, not when I saw the way his head fell back and a moan tore through his chest.

He was beautiful like this. Completely unhinged, animalistic, and… different. Every time I’d found myself at the receiving end of his pent up rage, I wondered which of his personas he related to more, the cool collected FBI agent or the sensual and cocky dominant. Or hell, even the awkward, insecure dork he was at his most comfortable. I was sure that my answer changed with the days, but I couldn’t ignore the freedom we both seemed to achieve in moments like this.

“Spencer,” I whined, my legs pressing back against him. I just wanted to feel him all. I wanted to take him in and keep him safe in my arms. But he was in a less than romantic mood, and before his name could fall again, he cut me off.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Daddy,” I corrected. My eyes left the reflection long enough to glance up and spot his cheeky little smirk.

“Good girl,” he praised. The words caused even more pleasure than the rest of him as he continued to fuck me into the couch. “That’s the only word I want to hear from you. Otherwise, keep your mouth shut.”

I tried to nod, but his hand returned to my head, pushing me harder into the cushion. Immediately, my instincts kicked in, causing my whole body to squirm underneath him. It wasn’t that I was necessarily trying to get away from him, but for a brief moment, I struggled to regain some control. But that seemed to only encourage Spencer’s desire to completely dominate every inch of me.

His hands only got tighter and his movements rougher as he sighed, “Enough. I want to enjoy this.”

Eventually, that fight left me. My body settled into the couch and felt the warmth of his thighs pressed against me and the still growing friction of the fabric on my skin. I focused all attention on the way we looked, lost in each other and the bliss we were creating on a dreary Friday night.

I had no idea how much time passed, but it felt like a lifetime that would never be enough. Every inch of me was brimming with love. I could feel it, the tingling covering me like a sheet. With each thrust of his hips, I felt impossibly closer to Spencer.

But the fight started to leave him, too. That darkness had spread between the two of us and dissipated in the process. All that was left was the two of us, tangled together with his movements beginning to falter.

“That’s it, little girl. You’re doing so good,” he groaned, his jaw clenching shut as he tried to fill hungry lungs without stopping. “I’m almost done. Just hold on a little while longer.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I replied, surprised by the tremble in the words. We were both so tired, so ready to fall apart and come back together again in the aftermath.

And that’s exactly what happened. Spencer waited until he felt the telltale tremors right before I peaked. He rubbed the marks he’d left moments before and repeated my name over and over until I was on the brink of tears and something else.

“That’s it, little girl,” he whispered again, “Let go. Daddy’s got you.”

The words were like magic. With just five words, Spencer brought me with him over the edge. He dropped his hand to mine still gripping the couch, holding onto it as his body tensed above me.

I could feel each muscle as it twitched before it calmed. I could feel everything, every point of contact all at once. I felt the way he filled me from inside and dug his teeth into my shoulder. I wanted to take that moment in forever, to never be farther away from him than I was right then.

But we couldn’t. Time rudely continued without our permission, and once he regained his strength, he pulled out of me so gently I had to laugh at the juxtaposition.

“Don’t move yet, beautiful. Stay right here,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss onto my head before he left me shaking and panting on the couch. Thankfully he had the decency and self-preservation to hurry before we made too much of a mess. Lord knows I didn’t want to spend our time together removing any hint of what we’d done in our time alone.

Then again, I did love the way he cared for me after. There was no way to really describe it— the love that was in his touch during the aftercare. I soaked in the pure elation I derived from his adoration, closing my eyes and trusting him to put me back together.

After he’d dressed me and positioned me just like a doll, my eyes finally opened again.

“Does anything hurt?” he asked, already busy working to massage my tired, angry muscles.

“No,” I murmured. I didn’t realize just how tired I was until I could barely get through the word. The panic set in again, and Spencer narrowed his eyes as he sat me up to inspect my face from a closer distance. It seemed silly, though, to look down at him on his knees in front of me right after he’d done everything he could to dominate me.

But then here he was, worshiping and worrying over me.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm, just a bit delirious,” I explained through a yawn.

“I’ll take care of you. Lay down,” he urged as he helped me back down on the couch. When he kissed my forehead that time, I could tell he wasn’t just trying to show me affection.

My suspicions were confirmed when he wordlessly left my side, only to return with a thermometer and a bottle of water. Through laughs, I slurred, “What are you doing?”

“Taking your temperature,” he said like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Sexy.”

He laughed with me, then, although I could tell it didn’t do much for his nerves. “I want to make sure I didn’t aggravate your wound,” he muttered with more guilt than I thought was possible. It broke my heart, to hear him speak through such a pathetic little pout. It was my turn to lay on the praise, although we both knew I’d never be quite as good at it as he was.

“I’m okay, Spencer. Seriously. I’m just tired and…” my words fell off as I tried to put the feeling into words. That comfortable, buzzing blankness that came from only the most powerful catharsis. I ran my fingers over his cheek while I thought, and giggled at the way he pressed harder into my touch. The words came to me so naturally then.

“I’m just thinking about how much I love you.”

With a small nod, Spencer accepted my answer… with some conditions.

“You have to drink a whole bottle of water and give me at least ten kisses before I let you sleep,” he shyly mumbled against my palm that he’d dragged over his mouth.

“You drive a hard bargain, old man,” I whispered, tossing my arms around his shoulders. He caught me before I fell, just like he always did. Together, the two of us stayed twisted up as we stumbled through the halls to my room. I truthfully had no idea how he managed to have any coordination, but I was grateful for it.

Once he had me tucked into the sheets, he took a moment to appreciate the sight before him. I tried to give him something better to look at, but all that I could muster was a dopey smile and a bit of a laugh. He still seemed to appreciate it, nonetheless.

“Stay awake. I’ll be right back,” he instructed, pulling the blankets up around my shoulders one more time before he pointed to the bottle on the bedside. “And drink that water!”

I tried to listen— really, I did— but I mostly ended up almost spilling the water down my chest as I sat up to sip at it. I had to focus all my energy on the first order to stay awake, and I was dangerously close to failing at it when Spencer walked back into the room with a thermos in his hands.

“What’s that?” I laughed, pleasantly surprised by how nice the warm cup felt against my still shaking hands.

“Hot chocolate.”

“…Why?” I mean, it was appreciated, but it was strange. He hadn’t treated me quite so sweetly since the first week I came home from the hospital.

And while I understood he felt guilty, I wasn’t helpless. If anyone looked that way, it was the man who was barely able to coherently reply, “Because you need it.”

“You look exhausted, old man.” Mirroring his previous actions, I covered his forehead with my hand. He didn’t lean into it that time, though. He just slumped into the bed beside me, curling into a ball at my side.

“I really am,” he admitted.

It was a rare thing to hear, and so I wasn’t going to try and convince him to stay up for my sake. I would finish the drink he’d made and simply enjoy the way it felt to have my boyfriend clinging on to me like a magnet.

“Go to sleep,” I basically ordered, following it up with a much nicer, “and let’s sleep in all morning.” Then, deciding that was too nice, I tacked on, “I’ll even let you make me more hot chocolate.”

Spencer’s laughter shook both of our bodies, and I pulled him even closer. Like the few inches would help the sound last longer in my memory.

“How are you feeling? Seriously,” he asked again, looking up at me through half-lidded eyes that barely kept open through his yawn.

“I’m fine. Just like I told you I was.”

“Okay,” he conceded hesitantly, “Tell me if that changes.”

“Promise,” I said, letting my hand run through his hair and enjoying the way his whole body wiggled from the attention. He looked up at me from his position with his head resting against my heart just as the goosebumps spread over his skin.

I almost let him off the hook. I almost let him drift off to sleep then, but that look he flashed me filled me with such an undeniable, uncontrollable love that I couldn’t let him forget the very order he’d given me.

“You owe me more kisses, you know.”

We didn’t keep count, but I was certain we passed ten by the time we both fell asleep.

—————————————————

There was nothing quite like being woken up by the horrible buzzing of Spencer’s phone. I understood that the whole point of having the ringtone and vibration set to be so loud was precisely to be annoying enough that it couldn’t be ignored, but it didn’t mean I had to like it. Especially not that morning.

I barely remembered the night before, still stuck in a sleepy haze, but I was able to recognize that, for whatever reason, his phone was on my side of the bed.

“No! It’s Saturday!” I whined, tossing in the bed so I could throw my arms over him, “That’s not fair!”

“I know. Life isn’t fair,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes and mostly ignoring me as I draped over him. “Give me my phone.”

Glancing back at the offending device, I noticed for the first time just how hard my heart was beating. Not only was it loud in my ears, but it also caused a vague discomfort in my stomach.

“Do you really have to answer?” I asked quietly.

“You know I do,” he responded in that stern tone of voice that never accompanied anything fun. 

I relented, taking his phone gently and handing it to him without another word. He stayed in bed for a second longer, his hand running over his face to try and wipe the exhaustion off. I watched him from my position shrunk under the covers.

When he finally put the phone down, he sighed, “Shit. I have to go.”

Spencer sat up so quickly that my hands that were settled on his stomach slid from their spot before I could try to hold him tighter. The chilly morning air caused goosebumps to burst all over me, but I ignored the chattering of my teeth as I threw my entire body over him.

“Wait!”

To his credit, he didn’t really try to fight it. With another heavy sigh, he dropped his body back onto the bed and closed his eyes. I could feel the annoyance quickly building, but I suppressed the sadness it caused. I tried to stay lighthearted, leaning over him with a soft plea, “Kiss me before you go.”

“I know that voice,” he warned, sitting up and grabbing hold of me. For a split second, I thought I might get what I wanted, but then he just picked me up, plopping me back down onto the bed beside him.

“I don’t have time for this,” he said.

My heart leapt into my throat, and I could feel my pulse just as hard there. It felt like I was suffocating on the words that couldn’t make their way out. In fact, everything about the situation felt bizarre— like there were some invisible high stakes. Like I needed Spencer to look at me and touch me or else I might actually shatter to pieces in my bed.

The bed that he was leaving.

Jumping up from my spot, I threw myself at him for the second time that morning. I caught onto his arm with a heavy enough grip that I almost succeeded in forcibly dragging him back into the bed.  

“Come on! It won’t take that long,” I appealed, my voice growing more frantic with every syllable, “If you’re going to leave for god knows how long, they can wait an extra... 15 minutes!”

There was no pause or sympathy when he replied, “Cut it out.” He just pried my hand off his arm and continued on his way through the rushed version of his morning routine.

“What are they going to do? Leave without you?” I called.

“Yeah, they might.”

I was getting nowhere. I didn’t even really know why I was so persistent, but the only words that were forcing their way through the blockage in my throat were words I didn’t want to say. They were words that made me feel weak and clingy and stupid. I knew he could hear it in my voice, too, although to him I’m sure it sounded more like my normal whining.

“So let them leave,” I mumbled, dragging myself from the bed and padding over to him as he threw on a shirt. “Then we would have plenty more time.”

Spotting my next move in the mirror, Spencer placed a forceful hand on my chest to stop me from wrapping my arms around him. “Stop it, (y/n),” he said slowly and lowly, “I am not playing with you. I don’t have time for this.”

A chill ran down my spine that was immediately replaced with a burning heat in my face. I wasn’t blushing, and I wasn’t angry. It was a terrible, horrible, indescribable feeling. The feeling of being forgotten.

But that wasn’t fair, was it? He was just trying to go to work, so why did I feel so empty? It wouldn’t be the first time the BAU had interrupted our plans.

“I just want to be helpful,” I muttered under my breath.

Spencer had already looked away.  

“Then get back in bed.”

I looked over at the disrupted covers and had the sinking realization that no amount of comfort items would make me feel better. The very idea of returning to his bed without him brought honest to god tears to my eyes.

“B-But if I do that then you’re going to leave me,” I blubbered. I’d never felt more pathetic. My boyfriend was almost at the end of his patience, and my hands were still clinging to his shirt and leaving even more frustrating wrinkles in the fabric.  

“Well, I’m doing that either way, so you might as well not throw a tantrum.”

He wasn’t wrong. If I’d taken a step back and looked at myself, I would have seen how ridiculous I was being. My brain was screaming at me to let him go, to just climb into bed and cry by myself until I got over it. It wouldn’t take that long, right?

But I’d never felt like that before. I’d never wanted to cry like that before.

“Please don’t leave me,” I whispered into the sleeve of his shirt before he gently nudged me away again.

“What?” he said with a tired sigh, “I can’t hear you when you whine like that. Please just get back in bed. I know you’re tired.”

I stared at his profile, recognizing the exhaustion clear in his eyes that could barely stay open. His jaw was clenched shut, and his hands were sluggish. He was tired, and it was all my fault. I’d kept him up taking care of me, and now I was making his morning worse, too.

I didn’t know how to make it better. I didn’t know what to say or do to show him that I appreciated him, but that there was something else inside of me trying to break its way out. It was working, too, as the sadness started to pool in my eyes. I buried my face into his back, my arms wrapping around him and halting his movements again.

It was the last straw for an exhausted, annoyed Spencer. Pulling my arms off him, he finally turned to face me. His hair was still ruffled and his voice crackly from the interrupted sleep.

“What has gotten into you?!” he shouted, unable to control his crankiness any more than I could control what happened next.

“I don’t know!” I yelled.

His eyes went wide as I crumpled forward, sobs taking up all of my breath as I covered his shirt with tears. I clung to him tighter than I had all morning, giving everything to the last attempt to stop him.

“I just really, really don’t want you to leave!”

Spencer became absolutely panicked, his arms wrapping around me faster and tighter than I thought he would be capable of in the current state.

“Oh, little girl,” he cooed, stopping me from falling to the ground with a bit of a chuckle. He clearly didn’t mean to laugh at me, it was more like one of those self-deprecating laughs he gave when he realized how stupid he was being. But he wasn’t being stupid, I was.

So why was he being so nice?

“I didn’t realize, I’m so sorry,” he whispered into my hair. He began gentle strokes along my back while the two of us moved back to the bed. He waited until I stumbled backwards and took my seat before he looked at me.

With all the tenderness he could muster on an early Saturday morning, he swept my messy hair from my face and told me, “I’m not mad at you.”

“What’s wr-wrong with me?” I sniffled and choked, not even bothering to clean my face. His hands were already busy trying to wipe away the tears.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong with you.”

I almost believed him. He let out a soft, stuttered breath before he kissed me. Then, as he had before, he kissed me again, and again, and again. He kept laying the tiny pecks all over my lips and cheeks until I was able to flash him a half-hearted smile.

“This is totally normal and it’s going to be okay,” he assured with one final kiss on the lips.

It felt like things were going to be okay when it was just the two of us. But then Spencer looked down at his watch, and the rest of the world joined us in his room. It was too small for everyone to fit.

“I’m going to get you in trouble,” I whined as the tears sprouted anew, “This is so stupid! I’m being so stupid!”

“Stop that. You’re not stupid.”

Then, with perfect timing, that horrible ringing of his phone was all I could hear.

“Shit!” he cursed under his breath, pulling the phone from his pocket. Even though Spencer didn’t point out to me exactly what was happening, it was clear that he thought it was serious enough to consider the one thing he was so dead-set against a few minutes earlier. He looked down at his phone that was still ringing, then back up to me.

“Just go. I’ll be okay,” I said with as much confidence as possible under the circumstances.

It didn’t work. 

“No, you won’t,” he corrected. There was a pang of guilt present in all his features that was only getting worse. Before I knew it, he had his arms around me. “This is my fault, I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s fine,” I laughed, my mind already trying to find a way to shove the sadness down long enough that I could see him off with a smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl.”

Spencer laughed, too, although it was obvious that he didn’t buy my usual act. I’d blame it on the therapy that I’d started to attend, but the truth was he’d noticed my tells long before that. He was just willing to ignore them up to a point. This, clearly, did not qualify.

“No, I’m not doing that to you.”

He didn’t say anything else before he stepped away. He let our fingers linger together until they couldn’t reach anymore. Even that made me miss him, despite him barely standing a few feet away. I figured he didn’t want me to hear the other half of the conversation. So, I just sat there, crossing my legs with my hands between them and trying not to look as embarrassed as I felt.

“Can I—“ he muttered into the receiver. I didn’t meet his eyes, and soon heard him continue more confidently, “I’ll meet you there. I’ll take a commercial flight.”

My body perked up at the implication, and a dopey smile covered my face as I realized just what he was sacrificing for me. But then any sign of happiness was crushed by the guilt that immediately followed. He had shirked off so much of his job for me. I was just always this big, annoying inconvenience. He was important, and I was monopolizing his mind and his time just so he could wipe away my tears.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said before clearing his throat, “And uh, Hotch? I don’t need a room. I’ll get my own. Yeah, everything is fine. I’ll explain when I get there... Alright, bye.”

“What are you do—?” I started the second he hung up the phone, but Spencer shook his head, raising his hand to cut me off.

“Come with me,” he said, rushed and exasperated.

After a brief moment of silence, I laughed. I figured it had to be a joke, or some offer I was always meant to deny. But when he just kept staring expectantly, hopefully, I blubbered back, “W-what?”

“Come with me, on the case,” he repeated with a scrunched up smile, “I want you to come with me.”

“Can you even do that?” I asked cautiously, covering my chest with my arm. I think he could see how badly I wanted to do it, but he had to realize how uncomfortable the request made me at the same time. I mean, how would he explain it to the team? Would he keep me a secret? What was I meant to do while they were working?

Spencer saw the questions rolling through my head. He came back to me, his hands cupping my face and making me look up at him. “I don’t care,” he whispered, “I won’t leave you like this. I can’t do that.”

I inspected his face for a long while. I let the silence settle over us and tried to find a reason to say no. I searched for the courage to say no and the stubbornness I used to have. But then my mind flashed back to the only arguments we’d had. They always revolved around this, around our insistence that we handle things alone.

Why? I reminded myself, I’m not alone. I don’t have to be alone.

So, with a trembling lip, I mumbled, “O-okay.”

“Okay,” he returned. And for a second, the tension melted from him. Closing his eyes, Spencer let out a deep breath and pulled me closer in a small hug that didn’t last long enough. But once it was over, I realized why. He had practically dragged me off the bed by both hands, guiding me over to my closet and pulling out my barely-used suitcase.

“Hurry up and pack a bag for at least five days. Anything you forget we can just get there.”

I nodded, releasing his hands yet again. Except this time, it wasn’t a goodbye. It was something entirely different. It was taking another step into the future with Spencer Reid. It was thrilling and strange and welcome.

Welcome, I repeated in my mind. It wasn’t a word I would have used comfortably before. As I packed my bag, I felt my boyfriend glancing over at me every few seconds. Like he was waiting to see how I assimilated into his life. I found myself hoping that I was passing the test, although I knew this wouldn’t ever be a normal occurrence.

“Are you ready?” he asked. The question brought another heavy feeling into my stomach, but this time it wasn’t necessarily a bad one. I looked down at the suitcase in my hands, and then back up to him.

Am I ready? The question was meant to be about our impromptu trip; I knew that was all he meant. But as I stood there contemplating a future with Spencer Reid, I asked myself if I was ready for a number of things I hadn’t ever seriously considered.

Am I ready? I prompted myself again.

“Yeah,” I said with a relieved sigh, “Yeah, I think I am.”

 —————————————————

| Part 22 |

[spxllcxstxr]

Bumps and Bruises • M.M

(GIF is not mine)

Request: Hi! Sorry, May I ask for a Marlene McKinnon x fem!/gn! reader fic, Soulmate AU where they feel each other's pain. — anon

Summary: Two Quidditch rivals finding out they’re something...more (Soulmate AU)

Warnings: Mentions of food/eating, injury description, brief mention of blood

Word Count: ~2k

A.N: NonGryffindor!Reader, this is my first time doing a Soulmate AU so I hope this is ok! It’s hard to find a balance between Soulmate AU and normal AU, but I’m sure I’ll get better with it in practice! The ending is kinda iffy imo, but it’s not terrible. Hope you enjoy!

****

The first thing you feel when you wake up on Friday morning is a flare up of painful throbbing blossoming across the outer part of your right thigh.

You groan, prying your eyes open and pull back your blanket.

The pale light filtering through your curtains is enough to see the grotesque purpling of swollen skin. You poke and prod at your thigh, occasionally hissing out in agony.

The bruise is both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

Its circular shape is something you see all the time. As a Beater on your Quidditch team, Bludger bruises were commonplace. The issue is, and this is where the mark becomes unfamiliar to you, when you went to sleep last night, there was no evidence of any such mark.

This was peculiar because you never had a history of sleep Quidditch, and you’re sure that if you got up in the middle of the night in a trance, at least one of your dorm mates would’ve told you.

And this certainly wasn’t some accidental hitting your bed frame sort of injury. This was ten inches in diameter, black and blue like a ball of pure iron slammed into you. As a self proclaimed Quidditch expert, you’re fully aware of what caused this.

But this conclusion brings up more questions than answers. Sure, you had practice after classes yesterday, but you would remember being hit full force—and you don’t.

But you have no time to sit and ponder over this mystery, you have to make it down for breakfast and then endure hours of classes. If only you could skip ahead to tomorrow’s match against Gryffindor.

You limp your way through the dorm, unable to put the usual amount of weight on your right leg. The room is empty, save for Bedelia, who, as usual, is still snoring underneath her blanket. On your way out, you make sure to wake her up by slamming the door shut as hard as you can.

Hobbling down to the Great Hall with a bag of heavy books slung over your shoulder is no easy feat even when it’s something that constantly happens.

The Great Hall is buzzing, though most of the noise is coming from the Gryffindor table.

The ceiling reflects the morning, bright blue and not a cloud in sight.

By the looks of it, the Gryffindor Quidditch team just got back from their morning practice, still panting and sweaty. For the entire week leading up to a match, James Potter, their captain, makes them practice and go through relentless drills in preparation. When they’re not on the pitch, he’s quizzing them on maneuvers. You’re lucky that your captain and fellow Beater, Morgana Sharpe, gives you the day before a match off, mostly to rest and review. If Potter was your captain he would’ve ended up in St. Mungo’s by now.

Your eyes wander over to Marlene McKinnon, her blonde hair up in a bun, face red and splotchy from practice, bare arms showing off muscle. Her chest heaves under her scarlet top.

“Practicing getting your arses handed to you?” You joke, leaning against their table.

Marlene scoffs. “Oh, you wish.”

Her deep brown eyes find yours, a troublesome twinkle shining through.

“Focus, Marlene, can’t have you fraternizing with the enemy!” James laughs out between mouthfuls of eggs.

“More like flirting with the enemy.” Sirius snorts, leaning closer to Remus, who chuckles into his glass.

“Oi! Piss off, Black!” Marlene snaps, the red on her face spreading.

Dorcas squeezes in next to her, dittany in hand. “How’s the leg, Marls?”

“Aw.” You pout. “Did McKinnon get a boo boo during practice?”

She scowls at you. “Don’t you have a potion to blow up?”

You clench your jaw and ball your hand into a fist. She’s got a point.

“Alright, enough trash talk, you two, leave it for the pitch.” James rolls his eyes.

Instantly, a weight lifts from your shoulders.

“I gotta go eat, anyway.” You smile warmly at your sort of friends. “So I’ll see you guys in class.” You wave before turning to your own table.

You join the rest of your team the table, squeezing through the tight huddle. Parchment is scattered all over the surface, some with crude drawings of maneuvers, some with written stats.

“Right, now that we’re all here,” Sharpe grunts our in her thick Irish accent, shooting you a disgruntled look. “We have a change of plans.”

“Change of plans?” Webb, one of your Chasers, asks. He looks up from his diagram, eyebrows raised.

“Greene’s soulmate took a tumble and landed him in the hospital wing. Can’t play tomorrow’s match.” She scowls, drawing clenched tightly on her hand.

“Again?” Your team groans.

Rupert Greene spends more time in the hospital wing due to his soulmate’s clumsiness than from playing a dangerous magical sport. That’s the way it’s been for the four years you’ve known him, and you have a hunch that it’ll never change.

“So we’re gonna have to put in Knight? Against Gryffindor?” Webb cries out, eyes wide. “No offense, but he isn’t ready to take on those pricks!”

Sharpe runs a hand through her dark brown hair. “Well, I guess we all just need to pray to Merlin some Gryffindor gets knocked off their broom.” She sighs.

The news of Knight replacing Greene for the match against Gryffindor puts you in a sour mood, making the bruise on your thigh throb more painfully.

You march through the corridors, face contorted in a permanent frown, barely paying attention to your lessons. You do, however, manage to keep your potion from exploding, which Slughorn is thrilled about. Match notes and plays take over your free time, pushing all your homework to Sunday, quickly deciding that this match is far too important. Marlene sticks her tongue out at you whenever she gets the chance as she hobbles through the corridors or looks away from Flitwick in your shared Charms class.

Sharpe drags you and the rest of the team up to bed at nine, lecturing you all about a good night’s rest. You roll your eyes, but you do only spend half an hour studying moves before heading to bed.

You wake up jittery.

You’re always nervous the morning of normal Quidditch matches, but this isn’t a normal Quidditch match. Gryffindor has gone undefeated for the entire season so far, and you just need to beat them. You crave to watch the smug look fall from James’ face and the cocky attitude that Sirius is infamous for crumble. You want to win. At the same time, though, you’re hesitant to see the frown on Marlene’s face. Those perfect lips deserve to shaped in a perfect smile.

Your bruise isn’t as irritated as yesterday. It’s still black and blue, but you really need to dig your thumb into it for it to hurt.

You stretch, listening to your joints pop before strutting down to the Great Hall to join the rest of your team.

Taking a deep breath before making your way through the threshold, you try your best to calm down and radiate confidence. You crack your knuckles and make your way to your table.

Marlene throws you a playful glare across the room, which you teasingly reciprocate.

Breakfast is a quiet affair for your group. Feet tap impatiently against the stone, nervous habits running wild.

The weather is perfect for Quidditch. There’s a slight breeze and a couple fluffy white clouds drifting through the blue sky, providing the occasional blotch of shade. It reassures you and calms you down on your walk down.

Sharpe gives her usual pep talk in the locker rooms. It’s all about blood, guts, and glory, and how we better not mess this up for her or else “she’ll haunt us from the great beyond.” Knight is white as a sheet, trembling underneath his robes.

The crowd roars out from the stands just above, your cue to make your grand entrance. Brooms are taken off their positions in the wall and in a single filed line, you all follow Sharpe out onto the pitch.

“And here it is, everybody,” Remus’ voice calls out over the chaos. “Captain Sharpe, (Y/Ln), Webb, Byrne, Spade, Opal, and their reserve, Knight!”

Your house cheers louder at your introduction, your eardrums pounding. You smile and nod at the crowd, excitement bubbling up inside of you.

“While the two captains are taking positions and shaking hands,” You hear as you mount your broom, Potter and Sharpe facing each other. “I have been paid quite a significant amount to say that according to James Potter, Lily Evans looks absolutely gorgeous today—“

“That has nothing to do with the match, Lupin!” McGonagall cries.

“Godric, Minnie. I’m just doing some adverts, it’s all good. No need to—“

A large thwack echos throughout the pitch, but you’re too wrapped up in Hooch blowing the whistle.

Quickly, you soar up in the air, Beater’s bat in one hand, chasing after your teammates to defend them.

You barely hear Remus over the whistling of the wind and your own grunts.

You watch Marlene laugh after she bats a Bludger away from James, the bat giving off a wicked crack. You’re momentarily mesmerized by her figure. How her tongue peeks out in concentration and her ponytail bounces wildly in the wind.

A moment passes and your arm erupts in pain, and to add onto that, you’re hurtling towards the grass.

You clutch your arm and brace for impact, breath being forcibly ripped from your lungs. Tears well in your eyes from both the pain and the air lashing against your body. Your Quidditch robes flap wildly behind you.

The landing, however, isn’t that bad. You end up in the grass, your bad arm protected. You assume Dumbledore is the one to thank.

You let out strangled pants, sky spinning around you, a piercing whistle sharp against your ears. Your arm screams in agony.

“(Y/Ln)!” Sharpe calls out, broom clutched in one hand. “You alright?” Her face shines with sweat.

“Bloody hell, she’s got quite the swing.” You groan, face contorting in anguish.

In the corner of your rotating vision, you watch red and gold blurs crowding around someone else.

Madam Hooch and the rest of your teammates are talking, but you can’t understand a word they’re saying.

Tendrils of black fog enter your vision and suddenly you’re out cold.

You recognize the hospital wing bed immediately. It’s firm, but not unbearable, the white cotton sheets rubbing against any exposed skin.

“So (Y/Ln) and McKinnon, eh?”

It’s garbled and you’re unable to place the voice, but it’s understandable.

“What’s this ‘bout me and McKinnon?” You manage to slur out, eyes blinking open, the figures above you blurry.

The world gradually clears itself up, your teammates surrounding your bed. Your left arm is wrapped tightly to your chest with a white cotton sling. The pain is dull, but it’s the most noticeable feeling present.

“Ah, well...” Webb scratches the back of his neck, averting his eyes.

“They’re talking about how I finally felt my own strength.”

Slowly, you turn your head to see Marlene sitting up on her bed, carefully watching over you. Her friends surround her, knowing smirks gracing their faces.

Her blonde hair is a bit of a tangled mess from the wind, but her smile is blinding in the light.

“You mean...” Your eyes widen in shock.

Marlene nods her head. “Soulmates.”

You bite your lip in response.

“I mean, it was pretty obvious, wasn’t it?” Sirius asks, looking between his friends for approval. “They literally wake up covered in bruises after like every Quidditch match!”

“Shut up, Pads!” Remus hisses, smacking him on the leg. “They’re having a moment.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and holds his hands up in mock surrender.

Your eyes drift to your thigh where the mysterious bruise was.

“I’m guessing you got hit by a Bludger during practice?” You ask.

“And you’re the one that gave me that broken bloody nose during detention!” Marlene exclaims.

You nod shyly, remembering when Knight accidentally threw the Quaffle at your face during a late night practice.

“Are we really that bloody stupid?” You laugh.

“You want a real answer or...?” James starts, repositioning his glasses.

Marlene shoves James off her bed, and he yelps before ungracefully tumbling to the floor with a crash.

“Guess this is our cue to leave the two stupid lovebirds alone.” Lily giggles before patting her friend on the back and leaving, the Marauders and your own team trailing close behind her.

Because the bones in your arm are practically shattered, you’re confined to the hospital wing for at least another day, but with Marlene at your bedside, it’s been made bearable. You talk about all those mysterious injuries you’ve acquired over the many years and learn the extent of your idiocy.

With various bumps and bruises to match, at the end of the day, the two of you are much more than Quidditch rivals.

[kaimelia]

enough for you (ch 9)

a/n: hi! sorry for the delay with this. no guarantee when the next update will be, not in a good headspace rn :/

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

"Hey," Link muttered, his breaths heavy and his voice filled with concern on his end of the phone, which made Amelia raise her eyebrows.

"Is everything okay?"

"Can you come to the hospital? I just got called in, and Scout's got the slightest fever ever, so daycare won't take him, and I know it's not your time with him, but I need to get down to the pit-"

"Of course, I can be there in five minutes." She stood from her bed, pulling a sweater over her head as she ran down the stairs, grabbing her car keys from the bowl.

"Where are you going?"

"Hospital, Link needs me to get Scout; he's got a fever." Meredith frowned. "I'll be back."

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

"I'm sorry, I really am," Link muttered, sighing as she took Scout.

"Link, it's fine. You would do the same for me."

"Just text me, okay? Let me know that he's okay. I have to go, but all of his stuff is still at our-my-uh, the place." Amelia's face fell, and she shrugged, taking the diaper bag from Link and slinging it over her shoulder.

"I still have my key. I'll just take him there." Link stood in front of her for a minute, his hands nervously fiddling as he watched her. "Link, we'll be fine. Go."

"Okay. Thank you again." He ran down the hallway. Amelia glanced down at Scout, who had dropped his head against her shoulder.

"You're really not feeling well, huh?" She walked slowly through the hospital and into her car, gently placing him in his car seat and strapping him in, careful to not disrupt him too much.

It began to rain as she drove, and Amelia groaned at the dark sky above her, cringing as she got out of the car and was immediately drenched in by rain.

"Alright, Scout, let's get you down for a nap," she whispered as she picked him up from his car seat, his head falling to her shoulder and his hands gripping tightly onto her shirt. She glanced up at the sky, where rain was pouring heavily down onto her.

"Dada."

"Dada's at work, okay? Just you and me." Amelia locked the car and slowly walked up the steps to their house, sighing at the familiar scent of their home as she pushed the door open.

The home looked nearly the same as the last time she had seen it but as if every piece of furniture had been moved a few inches to the side; it felt unfamiliar. There was a layer of takeout containers on the kitchen counters, and if it was any other circumstance, she would've cleaned up.

"Let's get you in some clean clothes. You'll feel better soon." He opened his eyes as she walked into his nursery, laying him down on the changing table and grabbing clothes from his drawers. "Looks like your Dada needs to do laundry," she murmured, raising her eyebrows as she dressed him in mismatched clothes.

She soon realized her clothes were damp from the rain outside and picked Scout back up. She slowly trudged down the hall, her hand gripping the door handle that led to the bedroom they once shared. The door opened to reveal the same room she had left weeks ago, the covers on the bed raveled. Amelia laid Scout down on the bed and pulled open her drawer, taking a tank top she had left, a cardigan, and a pair of flannel pajama pants that were once Link's.

"Alright, thermometer," she muttered, lifting Scout up and heading towards the medicine cabinet. "Still a fever, huh?" Scout looked up at her, his tiny eyes glossy and appearing as tired as a baby could be. "Mama's got you, Scout."

Amelia eventually settled on the rocking chair in Scout's nursery, turning it to face the window and placing her feet on the windowsill, stretching her legs out as she rocked back and forth and watched the rainfall outside.

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

"Amelia," Link burst through the door, his clothes drenched with rain and his appearance disheveled as he hurried to the nursery. "Is he okay?"

"I forgot to text, crap." Amelia turned her head to look at him. "We've just been sitting here, and he's been asleep for a few hours now. I haven't gotten to take his temperature." He felt a small smile creep onto his face at the sight of Scout asleep on Amelia and the tranquility of the room. "I'll head out soon."

"You want me to grab the thermometer?" She nodded slowly, her lips pursed tightly. "Has he been eating?"

"Uh, I fed him before he fell asleep, and he's kept it down," she ran a hand over Scout's head, brushing the thin strands of his hair up. Link held the thermometer out. "Thank you." He nodded and pulled over the footstool for the rocking chair, sitting a few feet away from her.

"How are you?" Amelia raised her eyebrows and shrugged.

"Fine. Just, going to meetings, work, trying to get some sort of a routine and stick to it." She maneuvered Scout's head gently to take his temperature. "100.7. Still coming down from it."

"You want me to take him?" She nodded and carefully sat up, placing the sleeping baby in Link's arms. "Thank you again."

"Link, you don't have to keep saying that. You would do the same for me." She stood from the chair and grabbed her bag from the floor, walking to the door with Link trailing behind her. "Crap."

"What?"

"Your car is blocking mine in the driveway." He groaned.

"I didn't even think about that; let me go put him down, and I'll back out so you can get out?" Amelia sighed and dropped her bag.

"It's pouring rain, and you look exhausted. I'm exhausted."

"You could stay?" She turned to face him with her eyes wide. "I take that back. It's fine; let's just switch the cars," he muttered.

"I really don't wanna drive back right now," Amelia drummed her fingers nervously against the kitchen counter beside her. "I can barely see out there in the rain. I'll stay in the guest room and leave in the morning."

"You can sleep in the bedroom; the mattress in the guest room is terrible," he shook his head dramatically. "I'll sleep on the couch."

"It's fine. I'm the guest."

"Amelia, you're not a guest; this is our place. Take the bedroom."

Had it not been hours later than she usually fell asleep, she would've protested, but at the moment, the thought of sleeping in that bed with the mattress she knew was the most comfortable one she had ever slept on was more appealing than anything. She sighed.

"It's just one night, Amelia. I just need to get pajamas from the room. You wanna put Scout down?"

"He's gonna be up all night," she shrugged as she took Scout.

"I'm hoping whatever sickness this is will keep him asleep for a few hours, at least." Link hurried into the bedroom without another word, and Amelia walked back into Scout's room and gently set him down in the crib. His eyes opened as she tucked him under the fuzzy blanket, and she smiled at her son.

"Go back to sleep, Scout," she whispered, turning on the night light beside his crib. "Momma's gonna be right here if you need me." The door opened, and Link walked through with a smile on his face. "He woke up when I was putting him down."

"At least he's not crying. This morning? He was losing his mind, and I'm pretty sure I have hearing damage." Link walked up beside her. "Looks like he's gonna pass out soon."

"Goodnight, Scout," Amelia whispered, blowing a kiss at him. "I love you." She backed away towards the door, her hand on the side as Link spoke the same to their son.

"I'm just gonna grab a blanket from the bed," he muttered once the door was shut, following Amelia into the bedroom. "Alright. If he wakes up, I'll take care of him."

"We'll switch. You can go first," she spoke through a yawn, crawling onto her side of the bed and pulling the comforter over her body. "Thank you for letting me stay."

"It's your house too, Amelia."

"I know, but still. Thank you" He turned the light off. "Goodnight, Link."

"Night."

[calebdumes]

it’s late and no one is on so clearly this is the best time to post

fandom: star wars rebels

relationship: kanan jarrus/hera syndulla

rating: n/r

word count: 1.6k

~

Kanan hadn’t been sleeping well lately and it wasn’t that hard to figure out why. These last few months had been hard on him, even if he pretended otherwise and when he was able to get some shut eye, his sleep was anything but restful. 

Hera hadn’t fared all that better. It was hard work trying to hide a rebel cell in plain sight. But she finally thought she had every one settled on Garel - or as much as they could be. Even if Senator Organa had deep pockets, their current set up at the spaceport was going to burn through his slush fund in record time. 

They needed to find a base. And fast. 

So Hera was busy scrolling through the list of potential planets that Captain Rex had been kind enough to provide for them, even though it was deep in the planet’s night cycle and the rest of her crew tucked away in their bunks sleeping soundly. She was sitting with her legs folded on the curved acceleration couch in the lounge, the lights set to their lowest level. Kanan had his head pillowed in her lap, his long legs stretched out along the couch, his face pressed into her stomach. It couldn’t have been the most comfortable sleeping position but Hera was just grateful that he was finally sleeping. 

A green finger slowly dragged across the screen of her datapad while her other hand swept through the silky strands of Kanan’s hair, the sounds of his soft snoring mixing with the slight hum of power from the Ghost’s generators. It was peaceful like this, reminding Hera of the early days, when it was just her and Kanan against the galaxy. She smiled at the memory. 

Her peace was interrupted as the door to the lounge slid open to reveal the  imposing shadow of Captain Rex standing in the doorway.

“Sorry.” Rex said quietly as he stepped into the lounge. “I didn’t think anyone would be up.”

“It’s alright.” Hera smiled at him, her hand going back to stroking Kanan’s hair. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Rex rubbed sheepishly at the back of his bald head. “You could say that.”

Hera hummed in acknowledgment before saying, “There’s some caf left in galley if you’d like some.”

“I’m good thanks.” His eyes cut to Kanan’s sleeping form. “You mind if I join you for a bit?”

“Not at all, in fact, I’m going over the list you gave us. Maybe you can help me narrow things down?”

“It would be an honor.” Rex smiled at her, taking a seat on one of the stools. Hera toggled a knob on the side of the holotable and projected her datapad so they could both look at it. For a while, they researched planet after planet, hoping to come across a suitable location for a base, Kanan sleeping peacefully in her lap the whole time. She wondered for a moment, if she should wake him up and send him to her cabin but she was afraid that if she did that, he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. He desperately needed the sleep and Hera wasn’t going to deny him the opportunity. Besides, she kind of liked how he was cuddled up to her, even if she was starting to lose feeling in her toes. 

Rex, as it turned out, was a wealth of information that had her questioning why Fulcrum didn’t utilize him sooner. She assumed it was mostly because he had served his time and wanted to live out the rest of  his life in peace. It was probably what the old clone deserved after everything he had gone through. Still, she was grateful that he had joined the fight once more. They needed someone with his experience and knowledge if they really wanted to take down the Empire for good.

Hera didn’t know how long they worked, the time passing with little care or notice. It was only when Kanan made a pitiful noise, a cross between a whimper and a groan, that caused them to pause their work. Fear shot through Hera at the sound, her lekku going tight and her breath catching in her throat. Her attention zeroed in on him, everything else falling by the wayside, completely forgotten. Hera’s hands flew to his face, stroking her thumbs over the tight lines of pain that had begun to form around his closed eyes. 

“Shhh love.” She said gently, bowing her head so their foreheads were touching. “It’s alright. You’re alright.” She had to work to keep her voice even, emotion making her throat tight. “It’s alright love. It’s just a dream.”

Kanan continued to tremble in her arms, terrible, horrible little whimpers escaping his lips, each one like a knife to her heart. He was in pain, awful pain, but there was nothing Hera could do to help but hold him through it. Eventually, his shaking slowed and the tension began to leach from his body until he was restfully sleeping once again. 

Hera sighed heavily and leaned back against the soft cushions of the couch. It took her longer than she would have liked to register that Rex was still there, sitting across from her at the table. His old face looked weary, his warm brown eyes misty and full of understanding. 

“He get those a lot?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Hera nodded. “Lately, more than usual.”

Rex looked down at his scarred fingers. “I’m sure my presence here hasn’t helped much.” he chuckled darkly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they've gotten worse because of me.” 

Hera frowned at him. “He just needs time Rex.”

“Oh I know.” he took a breath, rolling his shoulders. “It hasn’t been easy for me either...but for what it’s worth, I’m glad he survived. He seems like a good man.”

“The very best.” she ran a hand down the side of his face. There wasn’t a day that went by where she didn’t thank the goddess that Kanan survived the Purge. That this wonderful, kind, brave human that stole her heart, lived and breathed when so many of his people had perished. She knew how the weight of his survival hung heavy on his shoulders but Hera couldn’t help but feel so immensely grateful that he was one of the few that were spared. 

“Do you know where he was?” Rex asked suddenly. “When it happened?”

Hera bit down on her bottom lip, thinking about how to answer. Kanan never did like to talk much about his past, he tended to keep most things close to his chest and only divulged his secrets in small, uncommon pockets of vulnerability. Hera didn’t feel right spilling his secrets to a man he might not ever trust. But at the same time, she felt that Rex deserved to know something.

“Kaller I think.” she said finally. 

Rex hummed, looking lost in thought before responding, “Kaller...I don’t remember what battalion was stationed on Kaller. Who was his master?”

Hera glanced down at Kanan, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. When she didn’t reply Rex sat back, creating space between them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just in my experience, you can tell a lot about a Jedi based on how they treat their men. I thought if I recognized the General that maybe...I understand that Kanan might not want me to know.”

“Her name was Depa Billaba.” Hera said softly, twirling a strand of Kanan’s hair around her finger. “That was his master.”

Rex rubbed her beard. “Ah, General Billaba. General Kenobi spoke highly of her, she was a good leader, cared deeply for her troops.”

“She gave her life to save him.” She said, not taking her eyes from Kanan’s sleeping face. She had lost her own mother at a young age but she couldn’t imagine having to watch her die with her own eyes, killed at the hands of people she once called friends. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. 

Hera glanced up at him and offered him a kind smile. “It wasn’t your fault Rex.”

“It doesn’t make it any less true.”

“I know.” she nodded. “And I think deep down Kanan knows that too.”

He just needed time, they both did. 

“Well,” Rex said after a moment, pushing himself gingerly to his feet. “I should probably try and get some sleep. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Thanks for your help Rex.” she said as he made his way to the door. 

He paused as the doors slid open, a warm smile on his weathered face. “Anytime Captain.” he gave her a jaunty two finger salute before disappearing down the hallway. Hera sat there, her finger tips resting on the underside of Kanan’s jaw, feeling his pulse beat out a steady rhythm. 

The past few days had been a challenge but they had been through worse and they had survived. This was no different. Kanan would come around eventually with Rex, or maybe he wouldn’t. But Hera had hope. 

She leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his brow. “Kanan?” she prodded. “Love, I need you to wake up.”

Kanna groaned in response, his face scrunching up with displeasure. Hera chuckled at the sight. “I know dear but don’t you think you’d be more comfortable in a bed?”

At that Kanan cracked open his eyes, the familiar teal hue clouded over with sleep. “Wh’ happen’d?”

“You fell asleep.” she responded with a kiss.

“Oh.” his eyes slipped shut.

Hera hoisted him up, ignoring his grumble of protest. “C’mon love. Let’s get you in a bed.”

Kanan let Hera maneuver him to his feet, leaning heavily on her as they trekked back to her cabin. He flopped bonelessly on to the cot and curled around her the second she slipped under the covers. From one breath to the next, he was asleep. 

Hera held him close, her cheek pressed against the top of his head. Her eyes slipped close, Kanan’s slow and even breathing lulling her to sleep.

[littoraly-art]

an aching heart

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2.1k

Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier

Tags: modern au, hurt/comfort, sick!Jaskier, insecure!Jaskier, established relationship, living together, panic attacks, chronic pain, nausea

A/N: this is just a very self-indulgent fic I've been working on, on and off, whenever I feel sick. I decided to leave it fairly ambiguous as to what Jaskier suffers from, just so that people can project if they want because hey, we all deserve to be a bit self indulgent, right?

Read it on AO3 or down below!

~

The sound of the shower was soothing, a constant stream of noise that mimicked the rainy days that the man loved so much. The steam, that clouded up from the shower, helped relax his muscles and ease his breathing which, up until that moment, had been panicked.

Logically, he knew he shouldn't be panicking–this was a regular enough occurrence, after all–but panic wasn't logical was it? It struck whenever it wanted, sometimes without clear reason unless one were to delve deeply into analyzing the moments leading up to it.

His breathing had been terribly constricted and he had been shaking something fierce, a whimper or two escaping him. The severe shaking had left his muscles feeling weak and achy but, again, the warm steam was helping relax him. He eventually found himself counting his breathing whilst lying on his stomach, cheek against the cool tile flooring of the bathroom.

That contrast of temperature, with the cool air rolling in from the vent on the floor, helped calm his mind with that sensation of distraction. The warm steam drifted over his damp skin like a comforting blanket while the cold air came in waves, offering some sort of relief from his nausea. 

He knew he should move, actually get the shower that he had planned on getting, but he couldn't pull himself from the position he was in. It offered just enough relief that he dreaded moving. At least for a little while.

By the time he heard the sound of the bedroom door opening and the creaking of floorboards under heavy footsteps, unfortunately, his stomach was rumbling uneasily again.

"Jask?" There came a knock on the door. A knock which made him flinch despite being well aware that there was someone there. "I'm headed ou–"

Geralt's voice cut off when Jaskier couldn't stop the whine that escaped him in response to his boyfriend calling his name. A wordless, instinctive, plea for help. He immediately regretted the sound (that hadn't been entirely voluntary in the first place) when Geralt spoke up again.

"Jask..? You alright in there?"

He tried to respond, which did not work in his favor as it only created another pathetic sound, a whimper that was followed by a sniffling sob. He didn't want to disrupt Geralt's day or for the man to see him like this but, damn it, he also really wanted someone to care. Deep down. Even though he was ashamed.

"Okay, I'm coming in," the other man announced as he gave another knock before opening the door.

He looked to the shower first, since that was what he had been able to hear, but his attention was quickly taken by the prone form of Jaskier, stretched across the tiles. He frowned deeply in concern, the corners of his lips dipping severely, and he immediately moved to kneel next to the younger man.

"You shouldn't have come in," Jaskier croaked unhappily, despite also somehow being glad that the man was there, and let out another soft whimper, really not able to help the sounds at this point. Oh, he felt so fucking pathetic. "I'm gross."

"Gross?" Geralt moved his hand forward to smooth it along the back of Jaskier's bare torso as he rubbed his thumb gently into his hips every time he passed. "Don't," a soft sigh punctuated his pause, "call yourself that."

His tone was so patient but tinged with annoyance, an annoyance that didn't interfere with the patience even though it seemed it should. Jaskier knew the annoyance wasn't really directed towards him, at least not fully. An annoyance that came with Jaskier's words about himself, not the situation they found themselves in.

"But it's true."

"Why?"

"Because.. Because it just is–" He whimpered heavily and then shivered tiredly as he felt Geralt shifting to help him up. A soft whine, mixed with a gasp, escaped him as he was pulled away from the cool floor.

He was moved into a sitting position, pulled against Geralt's chest with his head tilting to rest on his shoulder. Jaskier's eyes slipped closed as he sniffled, relaxing into the hold, and enjoying the way that Geralt began stroking his hair.

"You're calling yourself gross because.. what? You're sick?" His boyfriend murmured to him while continuing to stroke his hair, pulling his body more fully into his lap. All the while, his warm hands continued to move across Jaskier's body, stroking in slow, soothing swipes.

"Well.. it's just fucking gross, it just is," Jaskier whispered out, tears streaming down his cheeks as he shivered again. Aching pain shot through his hips and it caused another whimper as he pushed his face into Geralt's neck.

He heard the white haired man give a heavy sigh and the tips of his ears turned a bit red in his embarrassment.

"Well, I'll admit that it's.. unpleasant. But that doesn't make you gross, Jask. Why would it? It's not like you chose to get sick."

A soft kiss was pressed to his hairline and it caused more tears to well up as he let a shaking sob bubble up and then escape through trembling lips. His fingers curled into Geralt's shirt and he whimpered a couple more times as the man holding him started to hush him quietly.

"How about we get you into the shower, buttercup?" Geralt's voice was even softer than usual and he helped him sit up by himself so that he could pull away. "Sitting on the ground like that isn't good for your back."

Jaskier leaned limply against the cabinet that sat under the sink and watched with tired, reddened eyes as Geralt got undressed. He watched as his boyfriend paused to use his phone, his brows furrowing in the way they always did when he wrote out text messages.

"Weren't you going to go.. like.. help out at Vesemir's?" Jaskier spoke up after a moment, feeling guilt pool in his core since Geralt had planned to make a day of it, now that he thought about it.

The other man gave a simple hum and paused for a bit longer before setting aside his phone. He raised his brows and shifted around to take off his briefs, kicking them off of his foot once they fell down. 

"Yeah, but now I'm not."

"You shouldn't skip out on that just because–"

"Taking care of you is way more important," Geralt cut him off firmly and frowned for a moment as he moved over to crouch down next to Jaskier. "Now let's get you into the shower, okay?"

Jaskier eyed him with an unsure twist to his lips, guilt still rushing through him but, all the while, there was a part of him that desperately wanted to be cared for so, he nodded slowly.

He wanted to be cared for. He craved this tender, loving attention and not having to do it on his own. He wanted someone to lean on, someone he could trust but..

Damn it.

He felt so fucking awful. He felt like a burden. Like it was his fault he was sick, somehow, even though Geralt insisted that wasn't true. And logically, he knew that Geralt was right but that didn't stop the feelings from washing over him in overwhelming swells.

He felt so gross and ashamed and– and–

His thoughts were cut off as Geralt cupped his cheek, briefly, as he raised Jaskier's head and rubbed his thumb against his cheekbone. He gave Jaskier the softest, most heart-melting smile before shifting forward to slide his arm under the brunet's knees.

"Come here."

Geralt circled his other arm behind Jaskier's back and then lifted him off the ground as if he barely weighed more than a sack of flour. And he knew for certain that he weighed more than that. Obviously.

It was no small feat to carry Jaskier into the shower, given that they were nearly the same height, but Geralt managed to do without so much as a muttered word or awkward maneuver.

Once they got into the shower, Geralt carefully let Jaskier's legs down so that the younger man could tentatively find his footing. When it became clear that Jaskier wasn't going to be able to stay upright for long, Geralt kept a firm hold around his waist.

"S'cold," Jaskier muttered, despite it still being warm enough to create steam, and he reached out to turn the heat up.

"Well if you're gonna do that.." Geralt turned them about so that Jaskier was underneath the stream of water, since he didn't like taking those really hot showers that Jaskier liked. He guided his boyfriend's head forward, though, keeping it out of the flow of water and onto his shoulder.

"Thmks.."

"Mhm."

Jaskier lost track of time like that, focusing on Geralt's pulse that thrummed underneath the press of his lips. The rumble of his voice when he hummed. His soft breaths.

Geralt's hands roamed his body in long soothing strokes, easing aches and promoting relaxation. At some point, a soft loofah joined in, sending the comforting scents of oranges and honey, swirling around him. The loofah scrubbed gently in small circles until he was lathered in bubbles so that Geralt could pull the shower head down and rinse him off.

"All.. done. Squeaky clean," Geralt murmured as he placed the shower head back into place and Jaskier laughed quietly, into the man's neck.

A kiss was pressed to his forehead and then, suddenly, he was being lifted. He made a noise of surprise but let Geralt pick him up, guiding his legs around his hips as his hands rubbed along his thighs. After, the shower was turned off and it left them in silence. Dripping wet and starting to grow cold.

It didn't take long for Geralt to step out of the shower, immediately hushing Jaskier as a few whimpers escaped him. The cold air, blowing from the vent on the floor, hit his skin like electric sparks and he shivered as Geralt looked for his towel.

Fortunately, the warm, fluffy towel soon met his back as Geralt continued on his way. He carried his boyfriend all the way out to their bedroom and settled him down onto the edge of their bed.

That effectively had him on his knees, in front of Jaskier as he started drying the younger man off. A small smile settled onto his lips and a soft sort of glimmer caught his eyes before he leaned in. As he dried off the other man, he began pressing feather light kisses all over Jaskier's exposed skin.

One.

Two.

Three. Four. Five.

Six… Seven.

Another. And another. And another. And.. too many to count.

But then, to his dismay, the kisses abruptly stopped as Geralt moved the towel to dry Jaskier's hair. He dried it thoroughly, with lots of squeezing of the strands and rubbing it down. 

A whole minute passed before the towel was removed, leaving Jaskier's hair sticking up in ridiculous directions as the brunet pouted. Before he could say anything, though, Geralt leaned back in and pressed a firm kiss against that little pout.

"Lay down, I'll grab you some briefs and your heating pad," Geralt told him, gently squeezing Jaskier's thighs and finally drawing a smallish smile from the man on the bed.

Without a word, Jaskier moved to lay down on his back and rubbed his hand over his stomach as he sighed heavily. He listened to Geralt shuffling around in the closet and then his other hand rested against his chest, over his heart as he stared up at the ceiling.

What had he done to deserve such a thoughtful partner?

Geralt returned, helping guide the pair of briefs onto Jaskier while pressing kisses to the man's legs. He was making it very hard for Jaskier to feel embarrassed.  He was touching him freely and without hesitation, giving him the same affection he always would. He didn't care that Jaskier was gross.

He made him feel.. not so gross. 

Jaskier inhaled sharply as he felt the heating pad settle against his abdomen, not having expected the sudden touch to his area of pain. Geralt's hand lay heavily on top of it as he climbed into bed next to him and applied the weight needed to distribute the heat across his stomach.

It slowly began to warm up and Jaskier's eyes slipped closed, finding some relief through the heat.

"Try and take a nap.. I'll lay here with you in case you need anything," he heard Geralt say from next to him just as there was some shifting. A longer pillow was tucked under his knees and a soft gasp left his lips as the pain in his lower back eased some. "That's it, buttercup. Just relax and try to sleep."

"Thank you for taking care of me," he murmured and felt Geralt lean close to kiss his cheek. He finally felt less ashamed of taking the help and it warmed him more when he heard the smile in Geralt's voice.

"Always."

[honestlyfrance]

find me in san francisco

ship: sam/bucky

warning: violence, cursing, apocalypse

summary:

Bucky looked over to Sam for a moment before speaking, "Las Vegas may have currency but it doesn't have you."

OR

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes stumble upon each other once more at the aftermath of war.

—■—■—

Run. That’s what you do best anyway, isn’t it?

The view of a beachside stretches, the sand a murky grey with glasses and scraps of metal lining the boardwalk as if washed up against the rough and harsh soil, leaning against the ugly and crumbling brick wall where the actual boardwalk started up above at a level, and at a low tide the pitch-black ocean water lapped against the side at an increasingly frightening pace, as if it was always unsteady, always unnatural. Here on this sand, he ran, clad in a black ensemble, a matching WWII remnant design gas mask on his face, tubes attached to an oxygen tank he had in a backpack. He almost left no boot prints on the shore due to the dense debris that littered there. It was frightening what the last decade had given the earth — so terrible.

The man was running as fast as he could, biting down his tongue as he breathed at an interval of every three minutes – he had managed to breathe every five or six minutes when he was idle, and he has yet to learn to save his breath as he runs. He reaches the staircase that led to the boardwalk, hopping up the marble steps that cracked at every step he made, turning and twisting until he made his way out of the abandoned boardwalk, and was it just him when the stores and barest frames of buildings moaned in agony as the only life that passed through its once lively soul had left as soon as it arrived, or was it just the hunger that nipped at his guts?

He ended up by the road, and it was abandoned by cars and people, buildings just as decayed and bare as the ones in the boardwalk. He looked around for a moment, frantically—he has perfected the art of saving his breath, he’s been breathing for an interval of four minutes now, based on his watch. He took a right and ran as fast as his legs could go, which was a fast jog that could carry him for three hours at most without wasting his breath. 

As the road ended up uphill, with him leaning forward against the heavy pull of gravity from below, there was a view of a clinic before the T-intersection. Our man didn’t falter in step and breath as he reached the clinic, breaking the glass door in one swing with his right elbow. The glass door cracked and shattered in a million diamonds, bouncing on the floor and sticking to his sleeves. He patted them off and entered through the door, invading the empty veterinarian’s clinic.

He went into a room, where the surgeries occur and found some more oxygen gas tanks. Out of all twenty of them only six had not been wasted. He took them all. His tank was still full, but he took them. No more for the strays who would try to salvage for oxygen, the only thing left for them is the decaying flesh and bones of animals in cages in the next room. He took them, placed them in his retractable wagon, and pulled north.

He hears the faintest sound, but he hasn't faltered. He walked slowly now, his breathing smooth as water as his ears tried to pick up the source of the sound. It rolled on the ground. Heavy. Faraway. It didn't change pace.

Our man, who used to go by Sam Wilson, had continued on his way, squaring his shoulders as his jaw clenched beneath the mask, and for once, he had let his guard down. He trusted his heart over his gut —  he let his eyes wander towards the ground because it felt right to do so. God, when was the last time Sam had relaxed? Swinging his arms as he hummed a tune— When was the last time he could touch the sky and feel free?

It was a car. Some Mercedes. A dark shade of green. It had a pop of silver on the hood, what used to be a logo now scratched off, but there was definitely a wing in there.

The passenger window rolled down when the car had matched Sam's pace. Sam didn't want to look, didn't want to disappoint himself and get shot again. He didn't want to let his hopes wander towards the heavens just so it can fall so fast like what happened to Lucifer. He didn't want to die, to have that sliver of mercy turn into a knife.

The man in the car was covered top to bottom in a black ensemble, what they used to call the Winter Soldier armor due to the uniqueness and durability. Sam didn't want his hopes to get too high, so he assumed that the stranger wanted to steal his wagon of oxygen tanks. The atmosphere is thinning so fast, it's incomprehensible; everybody would do anything to live.

Sam whiplashed, pulled out his knife from his thigh holster, twirling it in his fingers before pulling his elbow back — it all happened too fast, next thing Sam knew, the stranger had leaned back into the driver's seat as soon as the knife had lodged itself into the driver seat window, barely an inch away from the man.

The man laughed for a moment as if it was the most adorable thing he had witnessed. His breath hitched and his arms were crossed over his chest as if he actually believed that was where Sam was aiming for.

"Nice car." Sam spoke, his words deeply muffled by his mask, it almost sounded like another language, "I'm taking it."

The man had no time to react because, by the time he had regained his stature, Sam had reached in and unlocked the passenger door, swinging it open. Holding onto the side and door of the car, Sam lifted himself and swung both his feet towards the man's chest, successfully knocking the air out of him. 

As the man had choked, Sam swung himself inside and closed the door shut, leaving his wagon outside. He sat on the passenger's seat, looking over at the wheezing man. Grabbing the man's right arm and locking it under his arm, Sam elbowed the man to the chest, throat, and nose, feeling the satisfying ringing pain shooting through his skin. Sam had worn elbow pads, decorated it with silver spikes even — poor man.

Sam had twisted the man's right arm — the man grunted like a trapped animal — and forced him to duck, and with a spare hand, he grabbed the man by the collar, slamming his face into the wheel, earning several short honks, not loud and long enough for anyone in the radius to hear.

The man heaved as Sam pulled him back, even caressing the back of the man's neck, letting the stranger have a few breaths of air for a moment. What a saint Sam was. Sam abruptly squeezed the man's neck, earning a satisfying whine. As Sam was reaching over for the knife lodged in the window, the man had uppercut him in the stomach, earning an alarming wheeze from our man. With a final tug from Sam and a punch by the man, they found themselves overcome with adrenaline.

Sam pulled the knife out of the window with a grunt, pushing the knife through the man's thigh with a terrifying shringggg, eliciting a muffled scream from him.

Sam pushed the man away from him and slid against the passenger door, heaving heavily, already afraid of how much oxygen he lost in the fight. His head felt light, and there's a ringing pain in his abdomen, one that urged him to caress it with a gentleness which his gloves contrasted. 

The driver's seat door suddenly swung open and an arm had stuck in and dragged the stranger out of the car, rolling on the ground with a gurgled grunt. The stranger tried standing up despite his injured leg but the man had pulled the knife out of his shin, eliciting a garbled line of a shriek as he collapsed on the asphalt road.

Sam rolled his eyes as he opened up his own door, pulling in the oxygen tanks one by one as the new man continued to clean up the scene, wiping the knife and pocketed it in his holster. Sam had retracted back his wagon and pocketed it as he closed the door, the new man taking the last man's seat in the car, his eyes blanketed by his dark goggles.

The new driver shifted gear and removed the handbrake, stepping on the gas quite slowly to avoid the roar of the engine or the screeching of tires. This man spoke, his words muffled deeply, signing as he said, "Run over?"

Sam waved a hand, shaking his head, and there's a glint in his eyes as he glanced over to the man wearing a black ensemble just like his, but there's a filter mask instead, more sleek and functional, something the Winter Soldier armor couldn't have, the actual original one that belonged to Bucky Barnes.

Bucky's eyes had joy in them as he looked over to Sam. The car moved for a few feet away from the grunting stranger, then Bucky shifted the gear to reverse, looking over at the rearview mirror until he deeply injured the man's legs. Bucky took his time in shifting back to drive, the car jumping a bit as they continued on with stealing the car. 

"I didn't think you'd come," Sam signed with one hand, leaning his head against the closed window, his chest rising and falling heavily. "You were on the way to Las Vegas."

Bucky looked over to Sam for a moment before speaking, "Las Vegas may have currency but it doesn't have you." 

Sam had to take a moment before figuring out what the man was saying, and when he did, he smiled under his mask, closing his eyes as it reached them. Groaning, Sam shook his head at that, Bucky laughing at the side as he maneuvered the car through the throes of wrecked cars and metal of the San Francisco streets.

The wreckage of the road, of course, only stretched the more the car rolled down the disaster of a scene. The afternoon sky was dull and settling as the winds whistled a low tune, but even then it was merely a delusion, merely a fictitious ensemble, something more of a mirage, a ploy to the senses. Decorating the asphalt road were small fires that were either already burning or had suddenly combusted out of nowhere, and other than this, the afternoon harsh sun rays were bouncing off of the reflective surfaces of dismantled cars, almost disfiguring the two men’s sight from the windshield. 

It's almost like an ode to the old world, a painting dedicated to the world before downfall played into fate, something of a music piece played for the masses disguised as the Trojan horse. Our two men had sat in silence as this scenery passed by them, but all they felt was tension and war in their veins, their gazes as strong as liquor and they despised that — despised how much they could've gotten if nothing ever happened in the first place.

Bucky reached over to Sam quiet hesitantly, grabbing his attention with a slight tap. Sam's eyes glanced at Bucky's hand, watching the way Bucky signed, slowly, as if wanting Sam to take it all in, I'm sorry.

Sam spoke, but his words were chopped and deeply muffled, barely comprehensible, but Bucky knew what he was trying to say with the way Sam's eyebrows hardened, the quick tick of his jaw, and the softness in his ocher eyes. Sam's nervous, forgiving, I was okay without you.

Bucky's eyebrows relaxed, and he wanted so badly to remove his goggles but he knew he shouldn't, so he nodded, cleared his throat, and said: "You were always okay without me."

Sam nodded. They both knew. Sam was always fine on his own, but he felt that need for a companion and he adored Bucky's like Apollo's Icarus — like a scar down one's spine, one made out of love, ambition, and yearning. 

"I wanted to be human. I wanted someone," Sam spoke, only signing it when he had gathered himself. He had set his head against the window, his breath shuddering as he added one last bit, "I wanted it to be you."

There's heat rising in Bucky's chest and all he could think of was how much Sam was attracted to it, but he's afraid he'd burn the angel because people like Bucky only ever did was hurt the most beautiful things in the world, but damnit, Sam wasn't beautiful.

People like Sam were ugly to the bone because they don't truly believe in peace and beauty. They've fought tooth and nail to accept fate with stardust in their eyes and that journey alone was frightening, murderous intent for all.

It's scary to think someone like Sam wasn't able to love because he was just so full of it.

"I want to love you," Bucky speaks, and they were soon going down a steep road. He moves methodically to drive them quietly. "I want to be with you too."

Sam signs, furiously, his eyebrows knitted together as his eyes had a sadness in them Bucky couldn't pinpoint. "Then why did you leave?"

Bucky's hand flew to the clasps of his goggles, but then he stopped, realized what he was doing, and slowly set his hand back down on the steering wheel. Sam was watching the man with wide eyes, silent and nervous as if they were going to suddenly combust at any moment, and maybe they were with the way flames lick their skin as if hungry peasants — maybe they were those hungry peasants.

"To survive. Didn't realize that's an empty wish if I didn't find companionship — you, when I was already so far away." Bucky replied, and his voice was clear, a little murky, but Sam heard it all, even the man's heartbeat laced around the words. "I didn't want to live greedily, I wanted to live loved and to love."

Sam turned back to face the road, his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes caught sight of the hood of the car. There were a million thoughts that ran through his head at the speed of light, but he wasn't baffled when these thoughts turned to plans, survival plans, plans with Bucky Barnes. His lip squirmed under the mask and it hurts to even smirk, but Sam's heart is so full of emotions he never thought he could feel again and it's euphoric.

Sunlight dances on grass and Sam could feel himself breathe freely again as if he was alive before the war. He could feel Bucky's flesh hand in his and there are the softness and toughness of skin he craved after the war. There were too many feelings in Sam's chest that made him weep, but he stayed stoic, stared out the windshield, his jaw hurting as he tried his best to stop his smile.

They were on flat ground and Sam made a sound Bucky thinks was laughter. Bucky's chest fluttered just like the first time he heard that laugh — before the war.

Sam's gloved fingers find their way grazing Bucky's jaw, only a fleeting feeling none of them could feel, but there's warmth in their chests as Sam cupped another hand around the man's cheek, their hearts singing in octaves as Apollo fell instead of Icarus; all backward love, they'll make it worth it.

Sam leaned into Bucky's face and their masks made a clicking sound when they met. This was the closest they could get to kissing, but it's not truly a love story if lips had to prove it. Don't you hear the world still just for them? 

Sam stared at the goggles, thinking he could see Bucky's eyes flutter close, fighting to keep them open. Sighing, Sam closed his eyes to take at the moment, the new normal they can have.

Letting go, Sam leaned back into his seat, saying, signing, "We just stole S.H.I.E.L.D. property."

There's a trace of a grin on Bucky's words when he said, "What bastards. You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Sam turned to Bucky, and they share a sound similar to a laugh.

"As always."