#but part of me is tempted to destroy a shirt in trying to write the Cowboys Are Frequently Fond of Each Other lyric out on it

[lupismaris]

Less than two hours till we spend the evening with Nathaniel Rateliff & the Night Sweats (💕) and Uncle Willie Nelson & Family (!!!)

Yes I bought fresh pre rolls for this yes I will be properly medicated before hand and during yes we will be bringing very large bottles of water to fill up while we are there because it had to be the hottest fuck off Day of the goddamn year so far

I'm going to be very annoying tonight

Just for the record

[quiteegregiouslychuffed]

I had an awful day today and want to do art but it is coming out all wrong and now I feel worse before the worst workday of the week tomorrow :( Why must things be so overwhelming yet so dull? Every thing I try to put my sparse time off to feels like an utter waste. Going places, doing things, I burned months and money going to infuriating social groups an hour drive away, tried game and hobby places, and it's all the same things. People ask if there is any place I'd visit and I don't understand. It's all just buildings, people, and outdoors. There are people I know I'd like to meet, but where that may be is like asking what shirt I'd wear for it, trivial. I want to do things and feel things but all I have in my ability to do is purely internal and personal things and to little surprise the last two decades of doing those things have be a bit run dry on emotional fulfillment. One can only talk to themselves and write for themselves and make for themselves for so long, like playing the same song on repeat until you can't stand it. Yet still it is so entrenched in being for myself I either cannot bring myself or am genuinely unable to share it outwardly.

I feel confused and functionally incompatible with everyone else, and the more I interact with new people the more solid that distance between me and others feel. Before it was undefined, intangible, and left room for optimism and the benefit of the doubt for the value of people going about their lives outside my circle. Now I am tempted to abandon the notion of persons entirely, a ceaseless mass of recursive microcosm and macrocosm, fractal of individual and group. Am I an imperfection being destroyed or is this part of the greater work? Regardless, it is a moral imperative to bring about its cessation.

[lunaekalenda]

y/n and levi are having an argument and he says somethin hurtful to them like “you’re a burden to me, get out!” In his office after they try to tell levi to relax a bit. They get really hurt and Levi regrets it so bad he tears up. Levi tried to like make it up for them but they keep avoiding Levi and lookin away cuz they are nervous but levi finally caught them in some room and he expresses his feelings to them and how bad they want them back (their y/n starts sobbing and Levi panics and hold them close)🥺 omg I love ur writing so I would appreciate if u would write this!! (Some fluff moments pls 😭❤️) have a great day!!

okay! thank you so much for your words omg! i hope you like it! <3

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

❁ levi x reader

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

Levi was working.

Again.

His gaze was fixed on the documents he had in front of him, his fingertips passing pages quick, searching something. He cursed on low voice, searching some more papers around, when you entered his office. You had a glass of water with you, and a couple pieces of fruit. He has been there working for a long time now.

"Levi." you whisper. You don't know if he didn't hear you or if he is ignoring you, but knowing Levi's caring personality, he's probably so centered on the documents he hasn't heard you. You leave the glass and the fruit plate in the little table he has near his desk, before going next to him. His eyes look at you quietly on a side-look, but he keeps analyzing all those documents.

"Shouldn't you rest a bit?" you ask. He sighs but keeps looking at the documents. "You've been here all day, Levi..." your tone is now more concerned. But he coldly turns around, his chair making unpleasant noises. His grey eyes meet yours, coldly.

"I don't need to rest." he says.

"You're human. You need to."

"I don't need to." his voice is now higher. "Please, leave."

You know his words are full of tiredness and work problems probably. But, having problems with work isn't a problem with you.

"Levi, you..."

"Just get the fuck out and stop disturbing." he says. His words, followed by his cold and sharp grey gaze, made your eyes teary. You left the studio, even when you heard his tired voice calling you on a whisper. You closed the door and closed yourself on your room. Levi is static on his chair, his body half turned, as if he is still talking to you. Then, he puts both arms on the desk, his hands supporting his head. He feels how his vision gets blurred and a couple tears fall on the documents. "What have I done." he says for himself. He hurted you. He knows he did. He wasn't at his best moment and he payed it with you. It was bad, he made things wrong. He knows it. He's about to get up and talk to you when he hears the main door. He stands up quickly and looks to the corridor. No one. Then, your bedroom. On your shared bed is a little note. He takes it, fearing the worst.

"I'll be at Hange's to not disturb you. Coming back for dinner." Damn. He curses, he's so angry with himself for hurting you. For hurting the most important person he has. He knew you'll be back for dinner, so he tried to calm himself during that time he had left, wiping his tears and relaxing his breath. It was darker outside when he listened the main door again.

Bold of him to assume you were going to check on him after what he said. He listened your quick steps towards the living. He needed to apologize now. He left his studio and searched you. You were on the living room. Your hands on both sides of your body and your head looking a picture of you two on a shelf. His hand tried to reach yours, but you moved nervously to the bedroom. His fingers felt how yours left, leaving him with a huge abism inside. He followed you quietly to the room. You were now next to the bed.

"Sorry." his voice was the only sound between the four walls. "I hurt you and I'm so sorry, baby." he says. His gaze is searching yours. He doesn't know if it is correct to reach you, but he does it, extremely cautious with his movements. His hand takes your chin softly, making tou look at him.

Just the sight of your beautiful eyes dropping tears makes his heart break into a million pieces. Your breath is irregular and you see his face blurred because of tears. His hand moves to your cheek, caressing it quietly. "I felt so bad, baby. I'm so sorry. You know I'm so bad at it. I'm not trying to excuse what I said to you or trying to convince you it didn't hurt that much, because I understand I really hurt you. I'm sorry." His voice started to be unstable because of his little crying sounds. "I failed you. Even when i promised to protect you from anything that could be hurtful. I-..." He was destroyed. The way he let his head fall on your shoulder, how his breath started to be irregular and his tears where watering your t-shirt. "You didn't deserve me to treat you like that. I was stressed because of work, and I couldn't manage my feelings."

"I was also getting kinda repetitive with..." he raises his head to look into your eyes.

"No. I don't care if you told me to sleep one, five or a hundred times. I'll be thankful all of them. Because I understand you just wanted me to relax, you knew tiredness will only be bad for me. And it also ended being bad for you, sorry." His hand keeps caressing your cheek while yours are stuck on his waist. "I love you. I love you so much and I care for you more than even for myself. I didn't mean to say that. Sorry." You start to cry again. His grey eyes looked at yours, full of regrets, and holding you closer to him, he lets his lips meet the top of your head. His hands move up and down your back. "When I'm with you I feel like home, wherever we are. It's strange because I've never felt like that. To return to someone with such a hurry. To want so bad to hug and treasure someone as I do with you." his words were his honest feelings. He usually doesn't speak about his feelings, how he feels towards you. You keep hearing him, his heartbeat going faster under your cheek. "I love you more than words can reach, and I didn't know those words I said would hurt you that much. I'm sorry, baby."

"No problem" you say, quietly. His hands stop massaging your back to pull you far from his chest. He looks at you, his intense eyes fixed on yours, searching a feeling of pain. You smile quietly at him, your hands covering his in a sweet caress.

"But I did hurt you." He says. You nod.

"You did, but you're being honest. Also, I understand you were tired and stressed."

"That's not an excuse to treat you like that."

"It was an unlucky mess of things." you let out a little laugh. He does the same. "Levi." you call him. His eyes look at you directly again. "I love you. So much. And I care for you a lot. So you should take a nap before keep working."

"You're okay?" he asks. You nod. "Sure?"

"Sure, Levi."

"I promise you I'll be better, I'll manage my feelings better. I'll never hurt you again." his grey irises were still regretting all he said, all the time he kept thinking about you. You smile at him. He always, always, keeps his promises. You reach his lips with yours, as if you were trying to say him that you trust him and you know he'll be better. You part for air, his handsome face between your hands now.

"Failing is not a sin." you say, on a whisper. The scene is so intimate, an empty bedroom with the moonlight being the only source of light; your bodies together, tangled as if they were one; and the only sound of the wind blowing outside. He nods.

"But I'll never forgive myself for making you feel bad."

"It's okay, love. You apologized. It's fine. Now, should we sit here and rest a little? I'm tired. I helped Hange all afternoon." Levi nods and opens your side of the bed for you, before entering in his. His hands are warm on your waist and his body is against yours. You turn around to face him, thinking he has his eyes closed on a trial to sleep. His gaze finds yours. "Aren't you sleeping?" you whisper. He negates. You lean closer to him. His lips are calling you, you're so tempted to kiss him after all the afternoon apart.

Luckily, he thinks the same.

Your body melts against his when he kiss you slowly, a perfect compass for you two. He's telling you how much he loves you, how bad he needs you and how afraid he is to lose you because of his words. You kiss him back, telling him you're still there.

With him.

[fanfic-cave]

Abandoned

Rating: SFW/PG-13 (although theres kissing and stuff if you dont want to read that in public)

Word Count: 2.2k

Pairing: Hunter x Fem Jedi!OC

Warnings: Angst, fighting and arguing, talks about order 66/jedi being killed, making out it gets a little heated ya’ll

Summary: Hunter has discovered Sera's intentions to abandon the team and leave. The have an argument, amongst other things. Does she stay, or will she leave the bad batch for good?

Authors note: More OC stuff, I just get scenes in my head and I have to write them out. This is the furthest ahead ive gotten in the story I think. I have ideas of other things (which kinda get hinted at here), but im not sure how exactly I want to accomplish them.

Be sure to check out my post and put in your 2 cents on what I should write next!

Tags: @mangoberry99

You walked into the small, dark room, with Hunter right on your heels. He was definitely mad at you.

You tightened the mask on your face, and kept your hood up. Hunter switched the lights on and shut the door. “You were going to leave?” Hunters voice was raised, practically growling. He whipped around to look at you, his eyebrows arched and nostrils flaring. Yup. Pissed.

“I don’t expect you to understand.” You folded your arms defensively. “Just cause you’re a Jedi?” Hunter spoke loudly. “You owe us an explanation.” Somehow you thought Hunter really meant that you owed him an explanation.

You turned your face away, saying nothing. You didn’t feel obliged to share anything, you just wanted to retreat and hide like you always had. Hunters mouth turned down into a frown, and you could tell he was getting more upset. “I hate to break it to you, but being a Jedi doesn’t make you more special or different than the rest of us-"

“Hold on a damn minute-" you interjected, uncrossing your arms.

“And you don’t get to shut us out just because you are one.” He spat it out and you felt your face heat up with anger. “You were going to go without saying goodbye, Sera. You realized how messed up that is?” He was yelling now.

“I told you, you wouldn’t understand!” You yelled back. Your hands balled up into fists.

“No, I don’t! How could you befriend us, gain our trust, and just leave? Omega-"

“Don’t.” you interrupted before he could finish. Your voice had lowered in pitch, but it was loud and it echoed around the room. “Don’t bring her into this.” You were doing this to protect them, especially her. You didn’t want him to guilt trip you by using her.

“It would’ve destroyed her. You can’t face that? That you were going to abandon her?”

“You have no right-!” You turned to face him, pointing a finger at him and walking up to him.

“Take that damn thing off.” Hunter said. You froze. You knew he was referring to the mask. He stared at you with a hard look on his face, still fuming with anger. “I said take it off.” He ordered.

You yanked it off and threw it at his feet, hoping to hit his foot. He easily moved his left foot to avoid getting hit. “Happy?” You threw up your hands as you said it, venom laced in your tone. Your mask felt like your defense, a protection. You felt safe with it, and you had worn it since abandoning the clone wars and the Jedi order. You felt too vulnerable and exposed without it right now.

“Don’t lecture me, I know what I was doing, and I-" your voice cracked. You took a step back and took a breath. “I thought it was better than the alternative.” Your voice was quieter now. You looked down, then you turned around, your back to him. You didn’t want to see him, to face him. You placed your hands on the table in front of you, leaning forward and taking slow deep breaths.

“How would that be better?” Hunter's voice was lower in volume, matching yours. He seemed upset, but not angry anymore. He sounded hurt, or maybe sad.

You finished another deep breath. “The Jedi are being hunted down. I can only hide for so long.” Your voice was much quieter now, barely above a whisper. You felt weight on your chest as you said it. You crossed your arms and hugged yourself, trying to squeeze away the tight feeling in your chest. Once you started, you couldn’t stop. “I could feel it when the Jedi were killed, Hunter. Thousands of voices being silenced. And now, I can feel it.” Hunter waited for you to finish. “The Empire knows there are hidden Jedi across the galaxy, and they’re going to come and find us.”

You turned to face him, tears in your eyes. Hunter looked worried as he listened to you, watching your movements. “If you’re with me, you could all be killed.” You choked out the last part, the tears coming out. You covered your mouth with your hands, trying to hold in the cries that escaped your mouth.

You squeezed your eyes tight and couldn’t see, but you felt arms wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you in. You received the hug and wrapped your arms around Hunters torso, then buried your face into his chest. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, the sobbing escaping you, ripping through your chest.

“Shh,” Hunter quietly began comforting you. You felt his hand stroking your hair, the other arm squeezing you tight against him. You held onto him as you cried, like holding him would help you hold yourself together.

You stayed there for a minute, quietly sobbing while Hunter stroked your hair and quieted your cries. After a minute had passed, he spoke. “You remember what I told you when we found out you were a Jedi?” He paused and you waited quietly, tears still rolling down your cheeks. “I said we would protect you.” You had stopped sobbing, and you took shaky breaths in and out.

You felt him kiss the top of your head. You pulled away from his chest to look up at him. He wiped the tears out of your eyes with his thumb. “I promise, I won’t let the Empire kill you,” he had grabbed your chin, and looked into your eyes with intensity as he spoke. You smiled at his optimism. Normally you might argue that he couldn’t guarantee that, but he looked so set in his decision. You didn’t think you could persuade him otherwise.

He leaned in to press his forehead against yours, and you met him halfway, enjoying the moment of closeness. You felt like he was grounding you, keeping you here in the moment instead of fearing for the future. “Is this okay?” You felt his breath hit your face as he spoke. It was warm, and he smelled nice. You nodded. He squeezed you around the waist and pulled you in tighter, your hips now touching.

You felt your heart skip a beat. You two had never been quite this affectionate. You had an idea that Hunter might feel something more than friendship towards you. There had been moments, exchanged glances, lingering touches. Conversation where you both opened up, and had been vulnerable with each other. You already knew how you felt, but never were quite sure where exactly he stood.

You opened your eyes, and examined his face. You could see details that you couldn’t make out without being this close. The details in his tattoos, the shape of his eyes, of his face, his mouth. You felt yourself become more brave. You tilted your face to the right, your nose skimming past his. His lips were not even an inch away from yours now.

You saw Hunter's eyes open, and he was watching you. You waited, not wanting to advance more without permission. You held eye contact for a moment. He looked at you questioningly, processing what you were doing. You waited for him to pull away or come closer. You quietly froze there, the two of you only breathing and examining each other in your closeness, neither of you sure what would happen. You found yourself getting lost in his brown eyes for that short moment.

Suddenly Hunters lips were against yours, his hand at the back of your neck, fingers reaching into your hair. You breathed in through your nose, and your bodies began to move together. You felt yourself rise up to your toes to reach him, to get closer. Your arms were still wrapped around his torso, and you pulled yourself closer to him, just as his other hand gently pushed you in from the small of your back, trying to close every gap between your bodies.

After a minute, Hunter pulled away to allow yourselves a second to breath. He studied your face, like he was trying to memorize it. “It’s about damn time.” You said between breaths, and he laughed. His eyes seemed to light up with excitement. You reached up to his neck and brought him back in. You felt a burning in your chest as you continued kissing him. You wrapped your fingers around his biceps, and began to push him towards the nearest wall. He let you move him, his arms around your waist, making sure you came right along with him. You went back up on your toes, reaching to kiss him.

Hunters hands shifted away from you, then you felt them grab you underneath your thighs. You were suddenly lifted up, your legs reflexively wrapping around him. You gasped and broke from the kiss, holding onto him to keep yourself from falling.

“I’ve got you.” He spoke confidently, placing one hand on your shoulder as the other fully held you up. Then, he took a few steps and set you down on the table. Your face was now an even height with his. You made a face “You think I’m too short to kiss you?” You huffed out. Hunter smiled and said “You are kinda short-“

“Oh shut up.” You grabbed his shoulders and forcefully brought him back in. You tightened your legs on him, as if trying to lock him in place. He had one hand on your hip, the other touched the back of your shoulder where your bare skin was exposed. It felt like a fire was ignited where his fingertips met your skin. Hunter broke away and planted kisses on your cheek, then he moved to your jaw. You felt yourself reach at his shirt on his back, tempted to start pulling at it. You felt intoxicated by the moment, drinking in the bliss you felt as his kisses moved to your neck.

Wait. How did I get here again?

You released him and pulled away gently as the thought crossed your mind. Hunter stopped and took a step back from you, being sure to give you space if you wanted it. Your legs no longer were wrapped around him, you sat on the table and Hunter stood just a foot away from you. “Did I overstep?” Hunter asked. He watched you carefully, concern written all over his face.

“No, no I loved that Hunter,” you reached your hand out and grabbed his. You gave him a reassuring squeeze. “I’m just trying to process. Weren’t we just fighting?” You looked back up at him. He looked up, trying to recall the events. “Right, and then you were crying-“

“And now we’re kissing.” You laughed and shook your head. “That really escalated huh?” You looked back up to him as you spoke. Hunter was smiling, he looked genuinely happy.

You ran your hand through your hair, your braid now very much messed up. You began to undo it. Hunters smile faded and his eyebrows knitted together.

“What is it?” You asked.

“You won’t leave, right?” He asked, the brooding expression you were all too familiar with was set back onto his face.

“Oh.” Right, I was going to leave. You felt your heart squeeze. “No, I don’t think I will.” You said after thinking. Hunter sighed in relief. “Good.” He approached you again, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I wouldn’t let you anyways.” You raised your eyebrows at him. “Oh, you wouldn’t let me?” Like he could stop me. You kept that thought in your head.

“No.” He spoke firmly. His eyes locked with yours, and he looked determined. “I know the empire is hunting down the last of the Jedi, but we’re not exactly on good terms with them either.” You listened as he spoke.

“I don’t like the thought of you trying to survive on your own. I’ve always had my brothers, and having a squad, or a family, to rely on has gotten us all through it. I want you to rely on us, let us help you.” He put a hand on your cheek as he finished, and leaned in closer to you. He looked almost sad as he said it. You realized if he really cared about you, the thought of you leaving must hurt as much as leaving him would’ve hurt you.

You took a deep breath, then spoke. “Since I left the order, and the war, I’ve always been on my own. Having someone to rely on again has been a bit of an adjustment.” Hunter kept his eyes fixed on you, hand still on your cheek. You moved to put your hand on top of his. “I’m still learning how not to run, and I don’t want to run from you.” You squeezed his hand and looked into his eyes. “Honestly, I think I love you.”

Hunters eyes widened a bit as you said it. You smiled and you could feel yourself blushing. Now, though, you weren’t ashamed.

You saw Hunters eyes move to the door and back to you. Then you heard foot steps and Omega calling for Hunter. “I love you too.” He whispered it, and the door opened.

I know. You mouthed it, then slid off the table to stand next to him. You could practically hear him roll his eyes and you smiled.

I don’t think I could leave now. Not even if I wanted to.

[headinthestaticsky]

Frozen Within the Night Wind: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Chapter 9.

None of the characters in Twilight belong to me, all rights go to Stephenie Meyer.

My arms are open for you look at me now, Baby, if you want you got me. I know you're broken darling I won't let you down, 'Cause baby, I've been waiting for you.

Do I have to write it on your bedroom wall you fool?"

Bedroom Walls by, BANKS.

"Emm... on the behalf of Jasper and myself...I'm sorry." I said Rosalie laughed and turned to me. Emmett flew through the air once again, hitting the ground even harder.

"Don't worry about... Emmett's kinda cocky, it'll knock him down a peg."

"I have a feeling Jasper's going to be brutal today." I saw Emmett walking next to me, rubbing the back of his head.

"No kidding..." He grumbled.

Edward and Bella slinked toward the rest of us, it looked like they didn't really want to be here. I saw the wolf pack a few seconds later, they didn't look very trustworthy.

"They don't trust us enough to be in their human form," Edward said, taking the thoughts right out of my head.

"They came, that’s what matters. Will you be our translater Edward?" Carlisle asked, Edward just nodded.

"Welcome, Jasper has experience with the newborns, teach us how to defeat them." Carlisle explained.

"They wanna know how the newborns differ from us."

"Newborns are the strongest form a vampire can be. You may notice Fleur, her eyes are red as opposed to our gold. Due to how long she's been a vampire they're still red. Her human blood still lingers within her tissues, making her stronger than any of us. Jasper will continue on from here he is more well versed in this than I am." Carlisle continued.

"A newborn army doesn’t need thousands like a human army. But no human army can stand against them. Now the two most important things to remember are; first never let them get their arms around you, they’ll crush you instantly. The second, never go for the obvious kill, they’ll be expecting that and you will lose." Jasper said, he sounded determined.

"Emmett Fleur! You two first Don't hold back on each other." Jasper called toward him. I stood there shocked for a second... I didn't know how in the hell to fight.

"Scared? I would understand...you seem pretty fragile."

"Alright... bring it."

Emmett began to run toward me and I braced myself. He made me drag my knees down into the dirt and then threw me up into the air. I then ran toward him and dodged a tackle he tried to strike me with, I kicked him in the face sending him flying a few feet back.

"Victory belongs to be!" I said, raising my arms in the air.

"Emmett...never lose focus," Jasper said. Carlisle and Edward were up next. I walked next to Rosalie again and whispered in her ear.

"5 bucks on Carlisle."

"You're on, there is no way Edward can lose... he can read Carlisle's mind."

The two ran toward one another, both of them dodging an attack. They then put their hands around each other's necks. Carlisle threw Edward off of him, knocking him back a few feet. I looked and saw Bella staring intently. Carlisle threw a punch but missed, Edward grabbed him by the shirt and slammed Carlisle into the ground.

"You owe me 5..." Rosalie started.

"One more thing," Carlisle tripped Edward onto the ground and held him there.

"Don't turn your back on the enemy," Jasper said, rolling his eyes.

"You mean... you owe me right?" I said smugly.

"Oh take it and gloat somewhere else," Rosalie said jokingly.

I saw Jasper looking over at us, he gestured for Rosalie to come to him. She threw the first punch but he was quick to swing back, she dodged them all and twisted a few feet back. Before she could react she was grabbed by her arms and flipped over onto the ground, she landed with a hard thud I winced. I saw the wolves leave, Jasper walked away, I decided to follow him wanting to end this silence. He stopped when Bella talked to him, I wasn't completely mad I was a vampire for once... super hearing is great.

"Jasper, are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?" Bella asked, I could tell she was alluding to being turned into a vampire.

"Well, your presence alone, your scent will distract the newborns. Their hunting instincts will take over, drive them crazy. Hopefully, your sister won't get too distracted by you." Jasper said, ignoring her obvious hint, and began walking away again.

"Jasper wait... how do you know some much about this stuff?" Bella asked.

"I didn’t have quite the same upbringing as my adopted siblings."

Jasper rolled up his sleeves, bites were littered across his skin.

"Hey, those are like mine."

"They're battle scars, all the work my momma and dad prepped me with was nothing compared to them...neither was the short training the confederate army gave me... not that it was by choice. I escaped the first chance I got." They both started to walked away, I still followed them.

"You ran from the confederate army? Wouldn't you get killed for that if you got caught?"

"It would've been worth it... I never believed in their disgusting opinions on human beings...I wasn't about to partake in it just because I was forced to join them... I got killed either way... due to a certain, immortal...Maria. I just made it to Galveston, I took a short break thinking I got far enough from the base when I saw her... she turned me soon after... making me one of the leaders of her army. I trained the newborns, but after a year when their newborn faze was over I was forced to kill them. I could feel everything they felt, it wasn't until I spared a friend and a mate of his, that I was able to escape from her."

Bella looked bored.

"I thought what Maria and I had was love. But I was her puppet, she pulled the strings. I didn’t know there was another way, till I found Alice and Dean. She saw me coming of course. But, I still felt incomplete. Then she told me a few years back about your sister...my soulmate, no matter how much she pisses me off." He had a smile on his face. I decided to approach him now seeing he was a bit happier than earlier.

"It took me long enough huh?" I said, approaching wearily. Neither Bella nor Jasper said anything.

"I need to talk to you Jasper, alone..." Bella scoffed and rolled her eyes, but left. We stood in silence for a second, neither of us knowing what to say.

"I'm really sorry Jaz... I don't know what happened to me that night... I just got really pissed..."

"Fleur..."

"And I shouldn't have said the things I did."

"Fleur..."

"You have way better control with bloodlust than me trust me!"

"Love..."

"No really...I know I could probably eat a whole town."

"Darlin... calm down please... your emotions are giving me a headache. Trust me, my love, I can feel how sorry you are, you are definitely guilt-ridden."

"I feel so bad..."

"I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have brought up your bloodlust, you have great control over it."

"No, I don't..." I turned away from him

"What are you talking about?"

"It's true what you said... I almost snapped on my dad a few days ago... he cut himself trying to make dinner, I was so close Jaz... so close." I felt him turn me back around.

"It's going to be fine, you'll have better control of it in a few months."

"I guess I just go mad because you reminded me about the parts I hate most about being a vampire. I can't even hug my dad without getting tempted, it's horrible."

"I'm sorry love."

"You didn't know, if I told you about it we wouldn't have even fought."

"Let's go home Darlin." Jasper suggested, he kissed me a few seconds afterward.

"Yeah... let's go home... I want to make fun of Emmett, we both destroyed him."

"Sounds like a plan love."

[alwaysbeliev]

Oh, Arthur

pairing: Arthur x Reader

summary: Reader lives a high society life and is tired of it. When they meet a man so intriguing they can't help but let him steal a place at their dinner table, they start to hope that, maybe, there is something else to their life. Instead, they hurt him more than they may ever know.

word count: 3026

warnings: non-explicit NSFT, vague descriptions of NSFT

notes: I pulled the prompt for this from a list of phrases. I knew the general idea of what I wanted to do with it, and it took on its own life. Congratulations, Reader, you're Mary 2.0.

link on AO3

Noonday sun pierced between the curtains of the front room. The chatter of the small tea party around you was a distant hum, your focus on the spoon you held in your hand. Absentmindedly, you stirred the sugar into your tea, hardly aware of the soft clinking against the cup. Your mind was elsewhere.

Pressed against the wall, chest heaving, he kissed along your jawline and down your neck, pausing to nibble at the soft space where your neck met your shoulders. You couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp, lips parted, hands gripping the sleeves of his shirt. He smiled against your skin and exhaled, making you shiver. 

The sound of your name caused your head to snap up to attention.

“Did you hear what Mrs. Hearst asked you?” Your mother stared at you expectantly. The look in her eyes was begging you to not embarrass her, but you had truthfully missed what the woman in question had asked. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you quickly pulled an apologetic smile.

“I’m so sorry,” you said graciously, dipping your head slightly, “my mind is with the clouds today. Would you mind repeating your question?”

“Oh, I do hope we’re not boring you.” Mrs. Hearst pursed her lips, accentuating the creased lines along her face that had no doubt been created solely from this repeat action. “As I was saying, my darling Charlotte has traveled to the West and is already meeting many men. She has already had three suitors calling at the door! Her brother is beside himself with contempt. Perhaps you, too, would like to go west? Unless there is someone here you have not shared with us?”

Her question hung in the air. The room was full of your mother’s friends and their children, though the rest of them were still too young to have to worry about meeting a potential spouse. You hated this conversation topic. It was always bound to come up when you had tea with these people, it was expected now after more than a few months, and you were tempted to start feigning ill when they came around.

Truthfully, you had met someone. He was the reason you were barely paying attention today. But if your family knew the type of man he was, that you were consorting with him, that you were fucking him��� It was a subject you could never mention. It would ruin the family, and that was far too important a reputation to destroy. So, instead, with a barely concealed tartness, you replied, “I have not yet met someone, no, but perhaps I will write your Charlotte and help myself to her leftovers.”

A sharp gasp rang collectively around the room. Even the youngest of the children froze in their quiet playing, turning to see what had caused such a reaction among the adults, and your mother looked downright furious. It was rude to say, you knew that, but it was hot in this room and you were tired of being under a microscope once a week. There was someplace else you would much rather be.

“Perhaps you could do with some fresh air,” your mother hissed, her attempt to sound concerned for your sudden outburst not going unnoticed by some of the others. “The heat must be getting to your head.”

You gratefully took her invitation to leave, excusing yourself to the room in general. As you pushed back your chair and stood, you saw the nasty look Mrs. Hearst gave your mother and felt just a twinge of guilt; it wasn’t her fault you misbehaved. You were simply overwhelmed and didn’t appreciate being pushed around.

The air felt better in the hallway, but you carried on to the back door, stepping out onto the modest deck your father had built last summer. “For entertaining,” he had claimed, but it was primarily used for poker games amongst the men. Bright light hit your face and you blinked rapidly for a moment to adjust. It wasn’t much cooler out here, but the air moved and provided a relief from the prying words.

Taking in a deep breath, you closed your eyes and tilted your chin up, soaking in the shade and breathing in the summer air. Birds twittered in the air around you, fluttering from tree to tree. Carriages pulled by horses trundled by in front of the house, the cobblestones making a distinct clattering sound against the carefully designed wheels. Squirrels scrambled up and down tree trunks in the meticulously landscaped yard.

Flat on your back, you hungrily drank in the appearance of the man hanging over you, desperate to take in every detail of his face. His honey brown hair fell over his forehead, almost reaching his eyes as he trapped your wrists on either side of your head. His intense blue-green eyes matched the hunger in yours as he locked gazes with you. He had stubble on his chin that had been scratching your skin deliciously.

“Are you ready?” he asked, voice rough with impatience and need. You couldn’t even muster up the words to answer him, nodding vigorously as he kneeled closer to you. 

“I hope you’re happy!”

The shrill sound of your mother’s voice snapped you out of your reverie. You hoped the redness on your cheeks could be excused by the temperature of the air.

“I hope she’s happy, sticking her nose into peoples’ personal business like that,” you rebutted. 

“I won’t be hosting next week’s tea,” she snapped back. “And I have been very clearly not invited to the next party at the Clemens’. I don’t know where you got this sharp tongue, but you had better put it back! And quick!” With that, she whirled back inside, no doubt to try and garner sympathy from the remaining stragglers. Knowing her, she would be reinvited to the party just in time to get a new evening gown for it. Your father would be relieved at not having to go, and would grumble to you afterwards about having been forced to go anyway.

The predictability of this life was draining. You were exhausted from the parties, the expectations, the demands. Was it not enough to simply exist? Surely there was more to everything than the finest silks, the most expensive meat, the purest horses.

On an excursion you had enjoyed much more than your mother, you had seen a man outside the grocery in Strawberry. He was tall, rugged, and the most handsome you had ever seen. You had made eye contact and he raised his eyebrows, almost challenging you to approach. It had been difficult to stop yourself from smiling as you ducked your head, attempting to return your focus to the trinkets your mother was pointing out to you. His gaze continued to burn a hole in the back of your head.

Later that evening, you ate dinner in the hotel lodge, listening to your mother tear apart the decor of the room and flavor of the food. It was the cheapest meal you had ever eaten in your life, you were sure, but by far the most filling. She excused herself to bed early, leaving you to finish alone. Out of nowhere, the man from earlier slid into her vacant seat, setting a plate of his own at her place.

“Excuse me--” You tried to sound indignant, but he interrupted you.

“Forgive me if I misread your look earlier,” he drawled, “but I took it as an invitation. And I think it’d be mighty rude of you to decline, seein’ as I already have my food.”

The bluntness caused you to laugh, almost involuntarily, and he had been allowed to stay. You got along almost immediately. He was charming, his laugh deep and hearty, his manners surprising you. Up close, you could see the scars on his face, the dirt and grime of a man who rode a horse most of his days, the tanned skin from being outside for hours. He introduced himself as Arthur, but when you asked for his last name, he refused to give it. There was a strange air of secrecy to him that drew you in and made you lose track of time.

Before you knew it, the lights in the dining room were being extinguished. The waiter approached and apologized, but they were closing up and politely invited you to enjoy wine refreshment in the lobby. Nerves suddenly returned to you and you defaulted to the upstanding citizen of society you knew how to be.

“I’m sorry, my mother must be wondering where I got to.” 

“Why? She seemed a lot more interested in getting the hell out of here.”

His lack of a filter surprised you, but you realized he was right. She hadn’t once responded to your fruitless efforts to lighten the mood and find the positives. It was clear she had no interest in remaining here much longer. She was probably already asleep and wouldn’t notice you were missing until she was awake again.

“I got my own room.” It was Arthur’s turn to appear shy. Despite his forward statement, he almost seemed to regret it. “We could, uh, keep talkin’ there. If you wanted.”

Talking, you definitely wanted to do. You agreed, joking lightly about your honor as a single person entering the bedroom of a man, but you found yourself following him. His room was on the opposite end of the hall from yours, your mother’s right beside yours. Neither light was on. The giddiness settled in your chest and you played with the buttons on your sleeve.

Talking, you definitely did. For about five minutes. You barely had a chance to blink when Arthur was suddenly kissing you. And you kissed him back. It wasn’t much longer until neither of you were dressed. 

It had been three months since that first meeting. You had since learned much more about Arthur. He was an outlaw, running with Dutch van der Linde’s gang. He had been for a long time, and you found out after seeing a wanted poster with names of gang members listed on it. You had learned his last name, too. Morgan. He spilled everything when you brought it up after your third encounter, clothes piled on the floor, blankets mussed up around your two bare forms on the bed. Despite his appearance, Arthur was well-spoken and kind, and he was always aware of your feelings.

Standing on the porch, you wanted nothing more than to see him again, the itch to get away driving you mad. Torn, you debated running away again. Nobody would question your borrowing of a horse, you knew that wouldn’t be difficult, but you dreaded the interrogation you would have to be submitted to upon your return. The summer heat was starting to get to your head.

“A-Arthur,” you moaned, hands clenched tightly on ruffled sheets, not even caring who might hear. The pace was driving you towards the edge, you could feel the build-up in your core. He showed no signs of slowing down as he thrust. His own pleasure was clear on his face and it only served to push you closer.

You nearly left a cloud of dust behind you as you left the porch for a horse. It would be worth the interrogation.

----------------------------

You were barely in the door of the hotel room before you were grabbing at the cowboy’s shirt, tugging him closer to you and kissing him. You felt the chuckle in his chest more than you heard it as he shut the door.

“Slow down, darlin’,” he said between each kiss. “We just got here, there ain’t no rush.”

“Missed you,” you breathed. Your hands pawed desperately, almost like they were trying to uncover some distraction from the turmoil inside. Arthur hadn’t caught on yet; this was the normal interaction. Sex was first, the talking came second. The grin on his face was intoxicating, drawing you in, and you felt your entire body flush.

“I missed you, too.” His hands held either side of your face as his lips came crashing against yours. You couldn’t hold him tight enough, he wasn’t close enough, you wanted so much more. Every place he touched burned, his finger tips at the base of your head, his thumbs brushing your cheeks, it was overwhelming. You fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. He paused, gently grabbing your hands in his. “Slow. Down.”

“I can’t,” you whined, the heat in you bubbling to the surface. “I need this. More. You.”

Arthur hesitated. He studied your face for a moment, looking for...something. With a heart-dropping change in expression, he scoffed, “I’m a goddamn fool. Jesus..” He dropped your hands and stepped away, taking his hat off to run a hand through his hair.

“What..?”

You were still breathing heavily, your body confused by the direction change, hands still searching for something to grab. Brow furrowed, you tried to close the gap between the two of you, but he refused to look at you anymore. You drew a shaky breath to steady yourself.

“Arthur, what is it?”

“I can’t believe this.” The tone of his voice was difficult to place. There was the obvious anger, which you didn’t understand, but there was also a strange touch of sadness. It almost sounded like he was beating himself up about something. “I should’ve known after Mary…”

Mary Linton. You had heard of her, he had mentioned her before, but beyond knowing it was a failed relationship, you had little to no context for her. It had ended on mutual terms, you thought. It still wasn’t enough for you to piece together what was going through his head. You had both been ready to go, this was how it was, you were going to have to wash your underthings when you got home just from the first five minutes.

“Arthur,” you finally snapped, “what’s wrong?”

He stiffened up. You could see his fists clench and unclench before his entire body relaxed and he turned, resigned, to face you. The look of defeat and poorly hidden hurt drove a knife into your chest. 

“We can’t keep doing this,” he said. His voice was heavy, laced with context you didn’t know.

“Doing what?”

“This. Sneakin’ off to some hotel, screwing each other, and then going our separate ways like nothin’ matters. Like I don’t matter.”

A pit grew in your gut. Part of you knew what he was saying, but you believed it was deeper than that. Surely, there was more to it than that.

“You do matter,” you managed to say. “You matter to me.”

He laughed, short and derisive, disbelieving. Shaking his head, he made eye contact, gaze sharp. 

“All I’m good for is pretending like you’re standing up to your parents.” He shifted his weight, hands coming to rest on his belt, a comfortable position for him. A safe position. “Mommy and Daddy don’t know where you are or what you’re doin’. All you’re doin’ is using me. And I ain’t gonna let it happen again.”

You expected tears to come to your eyes. It was hurtful, what he said, and absolutely not the truth. Instead, anger flared in your chest, rising to your head and making you lightheaded again. 

“You’re not just some toy--”

“Oh, I’m not just some toy? How very kind of you to say. Tell me, what did you and Mommy fight about this time? Because you know she’s gonna forget about it before you get home.”

The pattern was suddenly clicking together in your head. Each time you had met up with Arthur was directly after your mother had done something to drive you over the edge. It wasn’t always an argument, but this was your escape. In some secret fashion, this activity was better than just reading a book or meeting with your friends for an hour of gossip time. You were able to let off physical pressure and nobody else knew what you were doing. 

Silent for too long, Arthur shook his head and moved to go.

“I hope y’all figure it out,” he told you. “Don’t bother writin’.”

“Wait!” you shouted, much louder than you needed to. He stopped, hand on the doorknob. “It wasn’t-- It wasn’t like that. I care about you, Arthur.”

“Please,” he muttered, a quiet venom lacing his words, “don’t flatter yourself. You’d better get cleaned up before you go home.” A snap of the door was all he left behind.

You felt empty, hollow. There was a strange aching in your chest now, the brief anger gone as quickly as it had arrived, leaving the dull truth of what he had said. You hadn’t wanted to admit it, you had connected so well with him. He was a friend, you rationalized, you had felt more than just a physical connection. You had an understanding. You couldn’t muster up the energy to cry. You had fucked up, you knew that now, but it was too late. Arthur made it very clear he didn’t want anything to do with you anymore. 

For a while, you laid on the bed, watching the light shift around the room as the sun descended, eventually bathing the room in an orange glow. You knew the sun would be gone soon, and your mother would raise a huge fuss if you weren’t home for dinner. Gathering your courage, you left the room, thanking the clerk at the desk as you handed back the key. He had a look on his face that you tried to avoid reading into. 

You returned to your normal life with a heavy heart that night. Arthur Morgan, the outlaw with a huge bounty on his head, had come into your life like a much needed sunny day. He had invited himself in and you welcomed him with open arms. But you used him as an umbrella, shielding yourself from the storm that was your existence and identity, sure that somehow, this would protect you. You pushed him too far, you realized that now, and, full of holes, he left your life, tired and worn out.

[obeymesluts]

Scenario where Mc is sitting on the brothers lap and they get an erection?

THE BROTHERS GETTING AN ERECTION WHEN MC SITS ON THEIR LAP [ DEMON BROTHERS ] SLIGHT NSFW

I got really hungry for Korean food while writing Beel’s part. And since I’m a disappointment of an Asian, I don’t know how to properly eat some of the food, so I’m sorry if their descriptions are wrong!! - Rayfa

-

Lucifer

Sighing quietly to yourself, you watch Lucifer continue to work on signing papers, despite it nearly being the crack of dawn. Crawling off his bed, you slowly approached him, catching his attention. “Too bright?” he asked, gesturing to the lamp on his desk, the only source of light in the whole room. You shake your head, placing both your hands on his shoulders before climbing onto his lap, chest to chest. He let out a chuckle, wrapping his free arm around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

Your scent overwhelmed his senses, causing him to let out a breath. You smelt sweet, just like sugary delight, the feeling of your soft skin was tempting. He wanted to devour you, to rid you of your clothes and taste the sweetness awaiting him underneath. With these thoughts implemented in his head, he failed to notice the trouble that was hardening below. He took ahold on your waist, to pull you closer until he felt it from the slight shift by his leg. Glancing at your tired form, he considered whether to pull through with his initial fantasies before lifting you up gently. Putting one leg above the other, he settled you back on his lap, hoping sleep would indulge you before he did.

Mammon

“Y-Ya’ really had to p-pick this one!?” Mammon yelled, having fallen off your bed mere seconds ago. You tilted your head, grinning at the shaking child beside you. The movie honestly was a terrible excuse of a horror movie but seeing Mammon’s reactions made the whole thing worth while. “I-It’s not like the GREAT Mammon is sc-!”, you slapped his shoulder teasingly as he screamed once more. Disregarding the pillow he was cradling, his arms latched onto you, body shivering. Bringing your body closer to his, you sat on his lap, one arm wrapped around his neck.

Feeling your body’s warmth against his own made him greedy for more, he wanted to be wrapped in your heat, an intimate and fragile contrast of temperature. His hands, however, timidly remained at your waist. Mammon quietened down, unable to form proper sentences as a blush painted his cheeks. Your eyes meeting with his, you struggle to hold back a laugh as you felt a poke on your inner thigh. Running your hand through his hair, you decided to save him from further embarrassment, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on his lips.

Leviathan

“Behind you! Shoot!”

“Huh!? Where?!”

Struggling to work the controller, you frantically pushed the buttons. Soon, your character in the game died, the screen asking if you would like to spectate other players. You exhaled in defeat, sinking into your chair as Levi continued on with the game. “I told you I was terrible at video games!” you pouted, getting no reaction from the demon beside you. Moving your attention to his screen, you found him in combat with other players, successfully overpowering all of them. His brows were furrowed, his tongue resting in between his teeth as he concentrated on the game.

You called his name in adoration, finding his dedication to the game admirable and adorable. But then again, no response. Shaking your head, you stood from your seat and climbed onto his lap, burying your face on his shoulder. Levi had no objection to this new position, although he does regret wearing sweats for your game date. He felt you smile against his skin when you realised the effect you had on him, pulling away from him, you slid down on your knees. You snickered as you looked up at Levi, you had partially destroyed his focus, with his eyes glancing down at you in anticipation.

Satan

“Hmm,” you moaned quietly, opening your eyes. Rubbing your eyes gently, you adjusted your position, shifting back. Satan chuckled, patting your head affectionately. “Good morning,” he teased, arms wrapped around your stomach. This was a regular scene whenever you both were caught alone in his room. Not being as avid of a reader as he was, you spent most of your time finding other activities to do while he read. Today, you settled for falling asleep on his lap. “Sorry,” you mumbled, barely registering your current situation. Satan tensed up underneath you, exhaling a loud breath. As he observed you, his hunger for you grew.

You were extremely vulnerable and conveniently placed in his arms. The sounds you were making built up his desire, and something else. At this moment, he shut his book as he weighed his options. “My, my. Darling, if you keep making sounds like that I won’t be able to hold back,” he whispered in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. As you slowly come to, you become aware of the uncomfortable thing against your rear. Keeping his book aside, you best fully awaken yourself before he roughly pulls you out of wonderland.

Asmodeus

Music blaring in your ear, you shake your head as you try to withhold the conversation with Solomon. “I can’t believe he dragged us here then disappeared!” you complained, twirling your glass of water as you stared at the dimly decorated table. “You have to get used to it,” Solomon replied, watching the crowd of bodies dance about. “There he is,” Solomon said, nudging your shoulder. Looking up, you found Asmo, glowing from excitement as he approached your table. “What’s with the frown, doll?” he questioned, squeezing himself beside you.

Finding that it was not enough contact, he took hold of your hips and pulled you onto his lap, earning a surprise yell from you. He trailed short kisses on your exposed shoulder playfully, asking Solomon the same question when you did not answer. “Aww, is my doll jealous?” he teased, causing you to send a glare towards Solomon. His kisses moved to your neck before reaching the area right below your ear. Fingers digging into your hips, he slowly grinded on you. Your face flushed a bright pink as you felt his length hardening against your thigh. “Only my doll does this to me,” he whispers, his tone low and seductive. As the moment further became intimate, Solomon had to lift you off Asmo, making a comment how this should stay in the bedroom.

Beelzebub

Grabbing another roll of Gimbap, Beel watched intensely as you ate it, waiting for your reaction. Beel was more than eager to try one of the many dishes that was bought specially for you (on the courtesy of Diavolo), however, he had to hold himself back. After tasting the dishes that were made by Solomon, Beel had chosen to stay away from human food for the time being. Noticing his stare, you smiled at Beel, asking if he wanted one. His face had lightened up upon your suggestion but yet, he shook his head. Frowning to yourself, you overlooked the dishes laid out in front of you.

Yangbaechu Ssam! You nearly gasped at the thought of it, immediately picking up the ingredients needed before neatly and carefully folding it to avoid spilling its continents. “Here! Try this! I promise it’s good!” you walked over to Beel, a childish grin on your face as you sat on his lap, waiting for him to open his mouth. With a blush spreading across his face, he slightly opened this mouth. A bump had poked against your thigh, making you giggle as his blush deepened. His chews became slower, wrapping his arms around you, softly staring into your eyes, knowing this was your weakness. He wanted something else, he wanted your praises and touch, he wanted you.

“I think, I want a different snack right now,”

Belphegor

Belphie was calling- no, whining your name as he worked on his assignment. “I’m so tired,” he continued on, leaning back fully on your chair, resting the back of his head on top of it. “It’s your fault for skipping classes,” you sigh, encouragingly patting his head. Belphie mumbled words that were barely audible. Seeing the state he was in, you pushed yourself off the floor, settling yourself on his lap. “I don’t think this is helping,” he chuckled, his fingers running down your sides, occasionally slipping under your shirt.

The presence of you on top of him was both comforting and arousing, the fact that your most intimate parts were clothed yet so dangerously close to one another excited him.  “Just do a little mor-” you paused your sentence, feeling something hard below you. Belphie groaned, grabbing your thighs tightly, standing up from the chair. “Belphie, wha-”, silencing you with a kiss, he laid you down on your bed. He smirked down at you,

“You caused this problem, you’re fixing it.”

[kae-karo]

Kaeya and/or Diluc with the banter prompt "don't tempt me" or "you didn't answer my question"

thank u eternally dear anon for giving me the always-appreciated opportunity to write some kaeluc >:} (send me one of these prompts and a genshin character!)

make me melt again - T - 2k

tags: stranded on a desert island, no i haven’t done the event stuff yet, idk if we even get to that part by the time i post this, but i was inspired, kaeluc reconciliation, canon divergence

[read on ao3]

--

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Which one? You’ve asked an incessant number of them over the past-” Diluc cuts his words off there. Past how long? The sun has set, of course, so he can be relatively certain that some hours have passed, but the exact number is as yet undeterminable.

And Kaeya is doing his best to make it feel eons longer.

“Have you even been paying attention?” Kaeya chides, coughs out a laugh. How he’s finding this amusing, Diluc isn’t entirely certain. This is very far from enjoyable, though he supposes it isn’t the worst situation he’s ever ended up in.

“I tend to tune out when you speak,” Diluc says as he glances over the fire to where Kaeya watches him, brow quirked.

“Hardly an afternoon on a deserted island, and you’re already rather feisty,” Kaeya says with a laugh. “How long until you raise a sword against me again?”

It’s the again that does it, that snaps Diluc’s neutral, unbothered composure. His jaw tics with irritation - of all the people to end up stuck on an island with, it had to be Kaeya, didn’t it? The one person among an entire world who happens to be particularly adept at pushing his buttons.

“You’re welcome to reminisce to your heart’s content,” he grits out, “but I have little interest in rehashing the past.” There is a reason he put all of that behind him, sequestered all his hurt behind an iron wall and locked it away. He does not need it rearing its ugly head now, when they’ve-

Perhaps not reconciled, but they are at an understanding of sorts. They are able to be in each others’ presence without causing problems, though he supposes such a tenuous alliance might crumble under the weight of hours spent on a deserted island.

With nobody to talk to but Kaeya, and nobody to intervene should things turn any less civil.

Not that Diluc will be the one to raise a hand against Kaeya. Never again - he has long passed that place, that dark well of heartache and betrayal. Teyvat moved on, and so Diluc moved on with it. He presumes that Kaeya has moved on as well.

“It was not a particularly pleasant evening,” Kaeya says, his words accented with the crack of a splitting log. Sparks fly up between them, and Diluc catches Kaeya’s eye. Immediately drops his gaze to the dark pit of the burning logs.

“I don’t care to reminisce over it either,” Kaeya adds once the fire has settled. His voice sounds...different. Quieter, less...gods, he can’t believe he’s dredging this word up in relation to Kaeya, but it’s less seductive. So very unlike Kaeya, or at least, the Kaeya that Diluc knows now.

He wasn’t always like that, so inclined to charm every person he meets. So flippant with his flirting that it sets Diluc’s nerves on edge just to be near him.

“We never really talked about it, did we?” Kaeya’s voice carries a hint of humor, and an outright invitation to talk about it now, in spite of his words just a moment ago. Diluc clenches his jaw, fights back the hundred-and-one questions that had burned in his chest after that night. It has taken a very long time to quiet them, and he does not particularly think that they bear any relevance now.

“What is there to discuss,” Diluc says, and means it rhetorically. Kaeya shifts, sticks a leg out and toes his boot off.

“A lot of things, I think.” His other boot joins the first a safe distance from the fire along with his socks, and Kaeya pulls his knees up and leans back on his hands as his toes dig into the sand. “You kissed me the night before that.”

Diluc’s gaze flicks to the side, to the ocean, and he stares hard at the soft flicker of the moon’s reflection on distant waves.

‘And what if I want to?’ Kaeya’d asked. What if he did want to kiss Diluc, then what?

‘Well...I wouldn’t stop you…’ The bravest Diluc could get, even with Kaeya. Far less terrifying to face a horde of hilichurls than to admit how desperately, in that moment, he’d wanted Kaeya to kiss him.

‘But you don’t want me to, do you?’ Bait, he knew it even then, but it didn’t stop him from riding that spark of defiance as far as it would take him. Far enough to lean into Kaeya, push him against the nearest wall and press his lips to Kaeya’s.

“So you do remember,” Kaeya says quietly - this Kaeya, in the present. On a deserted island across a dying fire from Diluc, after so very many years of careful avoidance.

“Of course I do.” How could he forget the rush of heat flooding his veins, the spark in his chest flaring to life at the taste of Kaeya’s lips? The desperate hands at his waist, slipping beneath the hem of his shirt. His own hands searching, too, clinging to Kaeya like he’d dreamed about doing for ages.

No, he might bury it deep in his chest, but moments like those do not disappear entirely.

“But you think that’s not something we need to discuss, is that it?” Kaeya quips easily, and Diluc glances back to find his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, now, his scarf and cape discarded. He looks...lighter, this way. Unburdened, but not by the weight of his excessive accessorizing. More that he seems unburdened by the weight of the persona, the facade.

And out here, who would he have to pretend for? Diluc has certainly never believed the performance.

“I think it happened a very long time ago.” And…

And what? He hears it in his tone, the unfinished nature of his statement. And Diluc fears to even discuss that night, for the fact that it might dredge up feelings he has never quite managed to destroy? He can hardly say that to Kaeya, he’d never hear the end of it.

To Diluc’s surprise, though, Kaeya only hums. Stares into the distance beyond Diluc for a long moment, his gaze unfocused. How does he remember that night? Fondly?

“It must’ve been easy, then.” A pause, intentional, and Diluc refuses to rise to the bait. He waits, and Kaeya continues after another beat of silence. “To cast me out if you never truly felt anything for me.”

The meaning of his words processes slowly, leisurely, a perfect match for the faint breeze that twists through Kaeya’s hair, carries on to brush against Diluc’s cheeks. The soft moment splits in two at the sound of another cracking log, and Diluc grits his teeth.

“Is that what you believe?” His words come out on a harsh breath, low and quiet. Kaeya leans forward, wraps his arms around his knees.

“Is it not true?” Bait, Diluc’s mind supplies unhelpfully, but he will not let Kaeya sit here and tell him that it was easy, that Kaeya meant nothing to him.

That it did not break his heart when Kaeya told the truth of his past.

“It is not,” Diluc says shortly, and he dares to level a stare at Kaeya. Kaeya meets his gaze in turn, and by all accounts, it should be flippant. Should be easy and light, and Kaeya should scoff and dismiss Diluc’s words.

The stare he gives is not any of those things, though. Kaeya watches intensely, with sharp focus and tensed muscles, and Diluc is not entirely prepared to handle the sudden weight of his gaze.

A subtle, faint smile flickers to the edge of Kaeya’s lips, a daring thing for how rigid he looks right now.

“Tell me it hurt,” he says then, quiet. Voice laced with a years-old ache that Diluc feels in his chest, and he’s seventeen again - eighteen, almost, just about. Tomorrow. But right now, he and Kaeya find a hidden alcove in the back of the library, and Kaeya kisses him until he can’t catch his breath.

“It hurt.” The words hurt, too, but he says them. Speaks them to the fire and knows that they pass through the flames to reach Kaeya.

“Did you regret it?” Cautious, probing. Diluc blows out a breath.

“For a very long time, I did not.” His gaze flicks up, just enough to meet Kaeya’s for a brief moment before he turns toward the ocean again. “I feel...differently now.”

The closest he can bear to admitting that he lost not one, but two irreplaceable people in his life that night. And that one loss was entirely his own fault, even if he’s learned to forgive himself for his father’s death.

“Time changes things,” Kaeya agrees, and Diluc watches from the corner of his eye as Kaeya shifts, climbs to his feet. “Care to see if it’s changed anything else?”

Diluc’s heart catches up to the words a moment too late, then redoubles its efforts at the idea of what Kaeya could be implying. He swallows, inhales dying fire smoke and grasps within his mind for anything to steady him.

A hand appears before him, then, the lifeline doomed to drag him under, and Diluc’s gaze drifts up to find Kaeya standing over him, a gentle smile on his lips. Not teasing, not put-upon or overly seductive.

Just Kaeya.

And oh, Diluc’s heart aches, begs him to reach out and take Kaeya’s hand.

“There’s nobody here,” Kaeya says softly. “Just us.”

Diluc lets his gaze fall again, back to Kaeya’s outstretched hand. He shifts carefully, lets his heart guide his hand to take Kaeya’s. And oh, the way his heart races when Kaeya’s smile widens.

He pulls Diluc to his feet, then huffs out an amused breath that puts Diluc immediately on guard.

“Are you not sweltering?” Kaeya’s free hand tugs gently at the lapel of his jacket, though, and Diluc’s brows furrow.

“Trying to undress me?” he asks, entirely deadpan, but it pulls such a sweet laugh from Kaeya’s lips that Diluc has to fight a grin of his own.

“I’m trying to prevent heatstroke, but don’t tempt me.” An amused warning, and Diluc sucks in a sharp breath at the hand that skates across his chest, the thumb that hooks around the inside of his jacket. “May I?”

Diluc holds his breath, finds it impossible to do anything but nod.

He will admit - though not to Kaeya - that he’s grateful for the cool night breeze that his jacket had kept at bay. Kaeya sets it alongside his own discarded accessories, then glances down at Diluc’s feet.

“Fine,” Diluc grumbles as he sets about removing his boots as well. At this rate, Kaeya won’t be satisfied til he’s-

A flush crawls up Diluc’s cheeks, and he rushes to discard his boots and socks alongside Kaeya’s. And, to his relief, Kaeya seems to find Diluc’s state of partial undress satisfactory. Again, he extends a hand, and Diluc does not hesitate to take it this time.

He leads Diluc across the sand, vaguely in the direction of the water, and Diluc takes a moment to- to miss this. The comfort of Kaeya’s presence, when it’s so often been little more than an irritation. He lets his steps waver closer to Kaeya, until they walk with their shoulders brushing. Kaeya does not pull away.

The water is cold when they reach it - or, rather, when it reaches them. It curls its way up the shore to meet them, and Kaeya draws to a stop as it swallows his feet for a moment. Diluc turns to watch him, to watch the sea breeze whip at his hair and pull it back from his face.

His eye remains closed for a long moment, a subtle smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and his hand tightens in Diluc’s in the short second before he opens his eye again, catches Diluc staring. His smile widens.

“What do you think, Luc?” Diluc’s heart stops beating for a breath. “Has anything changed?”

He steps closer, hears his blood rushing in time with the waves, and lifts his hand to Kaeya’s cheek. Thinks that he missed this, that he did not expect to ever have it again. To ever want it again, but here it is. Here he is, and here Kaeya is.

And once again, he does not answer Kaeya’s question. Just leans in, lets his lips brush Kaeya’s, and melts into the feeling of Kaeya pressed against him.

No, he might’ve said. Everything has changed, but not this. Never this.

[iristhemessenger]

Just for a moment, dance with me?

My very first Wayhaven fic, in the spirit of sharing more F content! <3

Pairing: Felix Hauville/f.Detective (Eris Evergreen)

Summary: Eris' life has been anything but simple these days, her thoughts heavy with the safety of her town and the bloodthirsty monster who threatens them all. She just needs a moment, one blissful moment to take her mind off of it all and Felix may be just the person to help her out. After all, how can she say 'no' to that charming smile?

The song "Cheerleader" of course belongs to Omi, and is a personal favorite for those days when you just feel like dancing to something with a little bop. ^-^

                                                             ~ * ~

“When I need motivation

My one solution is my queen

'Cause she stay strong (yeah yeah)

She is always in my corner

Right there when I want her

All these other girls are tempting

But I'm empty when you're gone

And they say

Do you need me?

Do you think I'm pretty?

Do I make you feel like cheating?

And I'm like no, not really 'cause

Oh I think that I found myself a cheerleader

She is always right there when I need her”

For such a small town where barely anything happens, Eris will never understand how she still manages to find a towering stack of paperwork and reports on her desk nearly every morning, demanding her attention as she eyes the pile wearily. It has been a quiet day, all things considered, giving her more than ample time to make a good dent in said paperwork.

Most of them are small things, little complaints lodged by bickering neighbors or elder members of the community expressing their displeasure with the local youth who wander the streets, playing their music too loud or generally just standing around and being a nuisance.

She is not sure how many times she’s had to explain to Mrs. Henderson, one of Wayhaven’s regular complainants, that young Micky Roads and his small group of friends were not part of some drug-peddling gang, merely enthusiastic beat-boxers who preferred to share their music with the rest of the town than in the confines of his mother's basement.

Still, she should be thankful that such petty grievances are her only worries these days. What with Murphy running around still free, a part of her had been anxiously waiting for the phone at the station to ring yet again, signalling another death at the crazed vampire’s hands. Yet another life she had failed to protect, just like Garret Hayes.

She knows there's nothing she could have done in the grand scheme of things, but that only alleviated her guilt by a small margin. She was supposed to protect the innocent, supposed to be someone they could turn to in their time of fear and need but this...with Murphy, her blood, her mother, Unit Bravo and the Agency. It was all too much, and so out of her realm of control and understanding.

How was she supposed to prepare her town, her people, for such chaos without causing wide-spread panic among the residents of Wayhaven. If they even believed her at all, that was.

She wouldn’t blame them if they called her batty, no pun intended, this wasn’t exactly the kind of thing she expected to be dealing with when she took on the title of detective for the town. The police academy didn’t exactly train one for handling bloodthirsty, serial killing supernaturals.

She was tempted to write them a letter, to correct that particular oversight.

Not that it would do much good, she knew her mother would only destroy any such evidence against the Agency through her, she was guessing at this point, numerous contacts in order to maintain the secrecy of their shadow agency and dealings with the supernatural.

“Good morning, detective!” A familiar, jovial voice calls out, breaking the silence and her own morose thoughts.

Looking up from her desk, Eris can't help the smile that almost involuntary spreads across her face upon seeing her guest. It’s nothing compared to the dazzling smile that greets her in return as Felix saunters into her office. Eyes so intent on her she fidgets in her chair a little, unused to such undivided attention.

“It’s my turn to escort you home this fine evening.” He explains, giving her a once over that has goosebumps prickling over her skin under his appreciative gaze. “Though, admittedly, you are much finer.”

“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow, confused. “Not that I am complaining, but I thought it was Mason’s turn to take me home tonight?”

It had become the new norm at this point, the members of Unit Bravo taking turns escorting or babysitting her throughout the day while the others patrolled the town and surrounding area for Murphy.

She had already spent a delightful morning with Adam.

Sarcasm heavy on the 'delightful' as the leader of the vampiric agents had made no attempt to hide his annoyance when she'd insisted on a small outing from the station to Haley's bakery, for her regular morning caramel macchiato and blueberry scone. Citing the venture as 'inadvisable' and 'ridiculously foolhardy' when the station already had a (semi) working coffee machine in the break room.

The fact that it made coffee that looked and tasted like tar was, of course, of no concern to him.

Seeing Felix after an entire morning of that, and a few more mysteriously dented filing cabinets and a now unusable soap dispenser in the men's room, was honestly a breath of fresh air.

Nothing against Mason, who she suspected was finally beginning to warm up to her (he’d even begun to put out his cigarettes during their car rides back to her home, knowing how much she disliked the smell) but she found that she enjoyed spending time with Felix.

The younger vampire’s mere presence seemed to set her at ease, in a way she couldn’t quite explain. Whether it was his constant string of jokes, as strange as they could be sometimes, or his boundless optimism, whatever it was she sorely needed that right now.

“Ah, well…” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, unwilling to admit that Mason had only agreed to switch their shifts because he had all but begged the older vampire until he’d grown fed up with his nagging. “Adam decided to take him out to patrol the warehouse district again for signs of Murphy or a potential hideout. So, you get me for the afternoon instead, if that's ok by you?”

There's a slight hint of uncertainty at the end of his usually confident southern drawl, one he hopes she doesn't catch into.

"Of course it is!" She nods, and he is happy to see her smile, genuine and honest, still in place. Not to mention he'd noted the slight jump in her pulse and heartbeat when he’d announced himself earlier, making his own grin widen. "I always enjoy your company."

"Careful detective, keep buttering me up with sweet words and I'll never want to leave you alone." He teases, with a wink for good measure.

"Oh, heavens forbid." She teases back without missing a beat, shuffling some papers on her desk. "How would I ever manage?"

Felix is practically beaming now down at her, basking in their easy banter. He enjoys these stolen moments with the detective, who was infinitely more fun than patrol duty. Even if at some point he knew they would eventually have to part ways, he would take what he could get. He wanted to savor the time with Eris while he could, and if she were amenable to his flirting and interest, even after discovering their true nature, then he sure as hell wasn’t going to turn her away.

“I’m almost done with these reports” She sighs, “just waiting on some paperwork from Tina and we’ll be good to go if that sounds ok?”

He watches her as she stretches her arms high above her head, in an attempt to ease the stiffness that has made its way through her body. Her back arches in the chair, chest lifting forward, revealing every soft, and ample curve beneath her light blue t-shirt. The young vampire licks his top lip.

“More than ok, excellent even.”

His voice is smoother than silk when he answers, and she swears something breaks within her at the sound of it, leaving her flustered as she catches his eye. She clears her throat, sinking back into her chair.

"Alright then, good...that's...good."

Without another word, but his usual, cocky grin now firmly plastered on his face at a job well done, the agent makes himself comfortable. Draping his body across what has now become his usual chair in her office, feet in the air he crosses his arms across his chest and settles in.

As uncomfortable as the chair itself was, as he often complained, for some reason he continued to stake his claim, flopping into that particular chair every chance he got.

The fact that it was close to her desk, giving them both a clear view of the other, was a nice side benefit to be sure.

It's not long before the quiet she'd found herself in before returns, as Felix does his best not to disturb her. She appreciates his effort, though she can tell it is a trying endeavor as she catches his feet twitching.

In an attempt to alleviate his boredom, she turns on her radio. It's already tuned in to her favorite station, and soon the office is filled with music and she can't help but smile softly as a pleased grin spreads across the vampire's shapely mouth.

Felix, for his part, is grateful to find the station plays modern, up to date songs. Not that he didn’t like the music Nate often played, per say, but it did lack a certain energy to it that Felix craved.

Keeping a not-so-subtle eye on the detective, he is happy to see she seems to be of the same mindset. While looking over a few documents, she unconsciously begins to bob her head to the catchy, upbeat rhythm of a song Felix knows well.

To his extreme delight, he even sees her begin to follow the words, perfectly lip-syncing every lyric as she continues to follow the beat.

He watches her lips as they move, soft, pink, a little chapped and bare of any lipstick or gloss. Aside from the barest hint of eyeliner and complimentary eye shadow, he notes she doesn’t wear much make-up. Preferring a more natural look, which suits her well he thinks.

Felix soaks it all in, this moment with her. Unguarded, relaxed, being here with Eris. It felt, so natural and right. He’d never felt like this before with another person, aside from his teammates. He wants to keep it, keep her, but he does his best from getting too excited, just in case.

She’s been very receptive to his flirting, albeit a tad shy which he found adorable, allowing him to savour the growing attraction between them. But, he couldn't help but wonder. What about something…more?

He’s brought out of his own thoughts when her eyes, dark blue like sapphires, catch his. She instantly straightens, brushing a strand of long, black hair behind her ear and clears her throat.

“I, uh, I really like this song...” She admits biting her bottom lip, embarrassed at having been caught.

Felix only smiles, loving the soft blush that blossoms over her fair skin as her pulse quickens.

“You have excellent taste,” His eyes sparkle impishly. “This is one of my favorites too! I wonder what else we have in common, we should definitely take the time to find out...”

He practically purrs the last part, and she can’t help but laugh nervously at how easily he manages to fluster her.

“Back in college I used to be a member of this dance team, and this song was a part of one of our regular routines...” She confesses, voice trailing off as she realizes what she's just said.

Gods, why was she telling him this?! It wasn’t something she advertised, exactly. Though, there had been the occasional incident where Verda or Tina had walked in on her jamming out in her office in an attempt to blow off steam after a particularly nasty meeting with the mayor or a run-in with Bobby.

To her surprise, instead of laughing at her like she expected, Felix jumps out of his chair so suddenly she barely sees him before he is leaning excitedly over her desk. His face is so close to her own, she nearly falls backwards, chair and all at the sudden proximity.

“Show me?!” His excitement is hard to deny, and she finds herself smiling at his enthusiasm.

“S-show you? Like, now, here in the office?” She repeats, receiving a vigorous nod in return.

“Yeah, it’ll be much more fun than just waiting around for those reports. Besides, you can’t not show me after letting that juicy bit of information slip just now.”

He can’t be serious, she thinks, but looking into those earnest eyes, so open and honest, she knows there’s no way he isn’t. They’ve spent enough time together at this point for her to get a sense of the young vampire’s exuberant nature, and, lacking anything else of immense interest to distract him, she knows there’s no getting out of this without refusing him flat out.

The very notion of telling him ‘no’ and potentially losing that bright smile of his doesn’t exactly sit well with her either, for reasons she doesn’t care to dwell on. So, sighing dramatically, she reluctantly gets out of her chair.

“Ok, ok…it’s been awhile so bear with me.” She says, moving to the middle of the room.

Shaking her arms and legs a bit, Eris takes a few steadying breathes in an attempt to quell her nerves. A difficult task considering she is now the focus of Felix’s attention, those amber eyes of his trained solely on her.

She has to think on it a bit, moving her feet and arms in various motions and poses before the movements become familiar again and, smiling like a fool, she is able to recall the entire routine from muscle memory until she is gliding and bopping across the floor of her office like she used to during her college days.

For a single, blissful moment, she forgets where she is. Caught in the nostalgia of her memories and the music.

Simpler, happier times when the world made sense. Before everything turned upside down, before poor Janet and Garret's deaths. Before her mother and Unit Bravo came crashing into her town, and life. Before she found herself being hunted down by a psychopathic vampire for a mutation within her blood she never knew she had before a few days ago.

Just dancing, in the quad with her former classmates and friends. Laughing, letting all their worries melt away as they practiced their routines. Improvising along the way, goofing off and having a good time despite the pressures of upcoming exams and troublesome boyfriends or girlfriends.

Felix watches her the entire time, absorbing the routine with such an immersed focus she can’t help but feel the heat creeping up along her neck to the tips of her ears. Especially when his eyes seem to stray to her swaying hips, his interest blatant and intense.

Swallowing hard, she comes to an abrupt stop and laughs awkwardly. Staring at the floor, with it’s uninteresting color palette. “Welp, yeah…that’s it!"

I’ll just go die of embarrassment now , she groans internally as she turns back to her desk.

“No, wait!” He stops her, reaching out to catch her by her arm. She shivers. The touch of his hand on her bare skin sends a pleasant warmth throughout her body, traveling all the way down to her toes. It's not dissimilar to the same feeling she'd experienced the day they'd gone to Kate's, when he'd ventured to touch her before getting back into her poor, beat up hatchback.

He feels it too, staring down at where his hand grasps her forearm. His smile softens, and he takes the moment to brush his thumb along her skin. As if relishing the touch and the sensations it gives them both, and she relaxes into the touch. “I really liked it, your dance. I think I got the moves down, let me try it with you, please?”

She only hesitates a moment as she considers, before nodding. He releases her, though he appears reluctant to do so. To her own surprise, she also feels a pang of regret at the loss of contact.

Grabbing her phone from her desk, she opens up her playlists on her music app. It doesn't take her long to find the song she's looking for, despite the numerous playlists she has collected over the years.

Music had always been therapeutic for her, a means of escaping or dealing with the world in the absence of her mother. Dancing was an extension of that, a fun hobby that had helped her work off stress and gain a few friends along the way.

And now, here in her office, during what had to be the most chaotic time of her life, she was able to share it with Felix. Grinning at the thought, she positions her phone upright before pressing play. The same song from the radio begins anew, and she returns to her position in the center of the room.

This time, Felix happily sidles up next to her, so eager she can practically feel him vibrating with barely contained excitement. She’s never met anyone with so much raw energy before, and she’s sure not even Tina could match him in sheer vivacity.

As they begin the routine, Eris can't help but think he would have made an excellent addition to her former dance team. In more ways than one, she decides after they run through the steps a few times. He's a quick learner, following her lead, and perfectly imitating every movement..

Surprisingly, it’s not long before they fall into an easy groove. Their timing, uncertain and new at first, quickly becomes almost second nature by the time they all but perfect the routine and soon they find themselves laughing and smiling as they lose themselves to the rhythm. Felix is a natural performer, his movements graceful yet laced with his usual cheer and vibrance, as they dance to the hip-hop tempo of the song.

“She walks like a model

She grants my wishes like a genie in a bottle (yeah yeah)

'Cause I'm the wizard of love

And I got the magic wand

All these other girls are tempting

But I'm empty when you're gone

And they say

Do you need me?

Do you think I'm pretty?

Do I make you feel like cheating?

And I'm like no, not really 'cause

Oh I think that I found myself a cheerleader

She is always right there when I need her”

Eris can only imagine how they would look to the rest of the station, if Tina or Verda, or god-forbid Douglas, walked in on them at that moment. There would be no end to the heckling she’d endure, that was for sure but for now it didn’t matter. They were carefree and safe behind these four walls, away from the troubles that haunted her outside of the sanctuary of her office.

The song eventually ends, but her playlist goes on, queuing up the next song in her library. It's another dance hit, one she recalls often being played in the local bars and dance halls that she and her friends would frequent. Dancing long into the night, until they were a merry band of sweaty limbs and clothes, high off the adrenaline and fruity cocktails plied by the bartenders and eager would-be paramours.

“Ah, hell yeah!” Felix laughs, “this is another good one! Your playlist is fire, detective.”

Without pause, they throw themselves into the new song, adding their own unique bit of flair here and there as they dance.

“Any cool routines go with this one?”

She shakes her head as she shimmies and rolls her hips playfully around the vampire, who watches her closely. “Nope! Completely freestyle, think you can handle that?”

“Oh, I can more than handle…” He promises, rolling his lips suggestively. He beckons her, wagging his finger in a come-hither gesture. “Show me what you got, detective?”

She laughs, mirth bubbling over.

For the first time since all of this mess started she feels light, her natural endorphins kicking in and setting her at ease.

When the moment presents itself, Felix takes the opportunity to take her by the hand. Twirling her here and there, bringing her closer as her back falls against his chest before whipping her away once again. He's quick on his feet, and thanks to her years of experience, dancing with numerous partners Eris finds herself able to match and meet his pace with little trouble as the two moved in tandem.

Soon enough, they find themselves swaying together. It’s the closest she’s ever been, physically, to the younger agent by themselves. A fact that Felix seems to pick up on as well, though he feels very little inclination to resume any distance between them. If anything, he takes advantage of the moment, eyes eagerly seeking her’s as he dares to rest his hand on her waist.

The touch sends an instant jolt up her spine, but she doesn't push him away. Instead, she melts into him, meeting his gaze and welcoming the heat that has been building between them.

She’ll never get over how beautiful his eyes are. Like gemstones, sparkling gold and striking. She could lose herself in them forever. It’s amazing how easily they fall into each other, as if they’d been dancing together for years.

“This kind of music and dancing is definitely more my speed, not like the fancy ballroom dancing Nate likes. Though, he is really good at it.” Felix breaks the tension, laughing lightly. “He did teach me a few fun moves too.”

She barely hears him, but smiles and nods anyways. The blood pumps loudly in her ears, heart racing as she feels the sweat begin to drip down her temple. It’s been awhile since she went this hard. Usually, even her most energetic dance sessions were within the safe confines of her apartment. Felix, frustratingly, looks unperturbed by all their physical exertion. Yet another vampire perk, she guessed.

"Here comes the dip!" He announces suddenly, leaving her only a fraction of a second to react as he suddenly drops her downward.

Her arms reach out, instinctively wrapping around his neck to keep from falling. He may not have the sheer muscle mass or height of his companions, but Eris can feel the strength in Felix's arms and neck as he holds her tightly. He’s slender, but solid.

"Don't worry, I got you!" He laughs, lilting voice taking on a huskier tone as he speaks. "I won't let you go, unless you want me to…though, that may be a bit difficult. I kind of like holding you like this.”

Eris feels her heart skip a few beats as she processes his words. Chest rising and falling as she attempts to catch her breath, the heat that had momentarily been abandoned returning full force, crackling in the sparse space left between them.

Charged and tempting, like a favorite candy left unsupervised on the table. All one had to do was give in, indulge in that first, sweet taste...

“Well, you two seem to be having fun.”

Startled, Eris looks up to see Verda standing in the doorway of her office. There is no mistaking the twinkle in his eye, or the amused twitch to the corner of his mouth and suddenly Eris feels the need to bury herself in a deep, deep hole. Beside him, or more like towering behind him, is an all too familiar, and exceptionally handsome face.

“Felix, this is hardly what I’d call escorting Eris home.” Nate sighs. Despite his soft rebuke, she can still see a small, indulgent smile on the man’s face.

“Oops, sorry Natey!” Felix laughs, quickly helping her back to her feet. “We were just having a bit of fun. Right?"

He shifts his gaze back to her, eyes bright, still filled with the vigor of their dancing and the sizzling remnants of their lost moment.

"Sorry, Nate it's my fault." Eris tries to apologize, smoothing the wrinkles from her shirt. It was more a joint effort, if she was being honest, but she was also the one who gave into Felix's request in the first place. So, she felt somewhat responsible for their delay.

It felt silly, like being caught by a parent with a cookie from the cookie jar before dinner. Not that she would know what that was like.

"I'd be inclined to believe that, Eris. However, Felix has a much longer track record than you when it comes to belying his duties." He says, casting a knowing look at said agent.

Felix only smiles with a shrug, looking perfectly unapologetic.

She chuckles, patting him on the shoulder. "Welp, I tried. Never let it be said I didn’t try to defend your good name.”

“Detective!” Placing a hand to his chest, Felix sighs dreamily. “My personal knight in shining armor. You sure know how to make a guy feel special.”

"I just came to deliver these for you, from Tina." Verda chimes in, passing the manilla envelopes to the still-grinning Eris.

"And where did Tina get off too?''

Now, his smile vanishes, "she left work a little early so she could try and catch Kate at the dental office, drive her home...poor woman has been on autopilot since her son's passing…"

A somber silence falls over the room, the reality of death reclaiming the once vibrant and merry atmosphere. It's almost suffocating.

Nate clears his throat, thankfully breaking the sudden quiet that blankets them all.

"Well, let's be off then before Adam comes looking for us both." Eris cringes, she can only imagine the stiff lecture that would follow if that ended up happening.

"Let me file these away, then I'll grab my coat and meet you two out front?"

"Sounds good." Nate agrees with a soft smile, warm brown eyes alight in good cheer.

After Felix, Nate is another member of Unit Bravo who sets Eris at ease. The man exuded a natural warmth and openness that was hard to resist, not to mention rare, for which she was grateful for. A stark contrast to the other two members of their team who were currently not present.

"A good night to you then, Eris." Verda nods, "I am going to call it a day, Eric and the kids have dinner waiting for me. Mustn't let it get cold, I’d never hear the end of it."

She smiles, nodding. "Have a good night, Verda. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, say ‘hi’ to the family for me."

The vampires move to follow the pathologist out of her office, Felix gracing her with another wink as he trails after Nate to wait outside.

"Hey, Felix." She calls out, before he disappears.

He stops in the doorway, turning back to smile at her. "What's up, detective? Itching for another dance already, because I wouldn’t say no to that."

"No, I mean - I would, it's just…" she runs a hand through her hair, letting out a breath. How did he always manage to get her so worked up? "Thank you."

"For what?" He asks, smile dropping a little in confusion.

"For...taking my mind off things. I was kind of in a funk before you came to get me, and the dancing just now...well, it really helped. So, thank you for that."

Eris thinks she's seen most of Felix's expressions by this point, the agent has varying degrees of excitement and cheer, whether genuine or cheeky. Occasionally somber, like he had been with Kate. But the look on his face now could only be described as, well, almost bashful.

"I, heh, well...your welcome, then." Eris blinks, surprised at his response. She's never quite heard him at a loss for words before. He turns away, rubbing the side of his neck. Was he, was he blushing? "Always here to help…"

He laughs, the sound not at all like his usual loud, boisterous laugh. More like a self-conscious chuckle, as he shifts awkwardly on his feet. “I, uh...I better get to Nate, before he thinks I am holding you up again. Don’t keep me-us waiting too long, alright?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of my presence, even for a few seconds.” She jests, enjoying the leverage she seems to have gained over the normally unflappable flirt.

He stares at her, as if he’s never seen anything quite like her before bursting into another nervous laugh. “Your something else, you know that?”

With that, Felix tears himself away and she smiles at his retreating back. It was nice to know she could throw the usually charming and cheeky agent off of his game, giving him a taste of his own medicine every once in a while was very cathartic for all the times he managed to leave her a stammering mess.

Still, biting her bottom lip in thought as she recalls the heated moment they'd shared, she wonders what would have happened had Nate and Verda not shown up. How much of this, all the flirting and back and forth, was simply a fun distraction for the vampire who seemed to draw her in so effortlessly with his easy smile and otherworldly eyes.

He seemed the type to love them and leave them, moving on to the next new and interesting thing that caught his fancy. Though, it felt wrong to think of him like that, as if there was still so much more to him she had yet to see and understand. Maybe there was more to him, hidden beneath the charming smiles and quick quips, waiting for the right person to take an interest and a closer look.

Watching her from a short distance, lingering at the station's entrance, she can't see the soft amber eyes that mirror her own musings. Wondering if maybe she might take him up on that second dance, just the two of them, and where it might lead.

Would it be so bad, he thinks. After this whole mess with Murphy was settled, he knew they'd be called away again to god-knows wherever they were needed next. But, watching the detective as she finished her day's work, catching the way she smiled softly as she mouthed a few familiar words from the song they'd danced to just moments ago, he feels a sudden, anxious kind of excitement pull at his chest at the possibilities.

Until then, Felix forces himself to turn away. With a spring in his step, he replays the feeling of her skin against his own, the beating of her heart, her enticing aroma surrounding him, overwhelming his senses. Snuggling into his thick, cotton scarf he savors the memory. Bracing himself for the cold, and Nate, both waiting for him outside the warmth of the station.

He would definitely need to see about that second dance, he decides with some conviction. Hopefully, before they were forced to return to their lives before all of this killing and madness.

With a wide grin, he hums happily, the same tune that he would now forever associate as their song to their first dance.

~ * ~

“Oh I think that I found myself a cheerleader

She is always right there when I need her

She gives me love and affection

Baby did I mention, you're the only girl for me

No I don't need a next one

Mama loves you too, she thinks I made the right selection

Now all that's left to do

Is just for me to pop the question

Oh I think that I found myself a cheerleader

She is always right there when I need her

Oh I think that I found myself a cheerleader

She is always right there when I need her.”

                                                            ~ * ~

Below is a link to the routine I had in mind when picturing Felix and Eris’ dancing, if you're curious, choreo by Blacka Di Danca ft. Fraules <3

Thank you for reading! I have a few more stories in mind for Flirty Hotville, so he may be making an appearance again here soon…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4E46VmGLc88

[kinetic-elaboration]

July 17: 2x26 Assignment: Earth

Finally finished up S2 of TOS yesterday. That was... a rough episode tbh. I’m just gonna say it: back door pilots are bad! They’re bad. If I wanted to watch that other show, I’d watch it.

Wow, they’re just really jumping right in, huh? “Here we are, on a routine mission into the past, using a time travel method that we invented nbd.”

Investigating desperate problems in the year 2020...2016.... no wait 1968.

Ooh, Spock in the transport room today. Does he have a whole extra random station there? That’s so weird; I’ve never seen that before. It’s like hidden in the corner.

Cat!! Cat!!

What a good actor. I’m still bitter that wikipedia has a whole section about the casting for “Isis the cat” that talks entirely about the human who played Isis for 2 minutes and nothing about the talented feline actor. Where did they find her? How did they teach her to act?

She has a lot of thoughts about Kirk.

I wrote down “Scully, you’ve got to see this” in my notes and I’ve already forgotten what it refers to lol. Some moment that I thought would fit well with my favorite x-files meme.

Change history, you say? Spock is intrigued. ...Admittedly, Spock is often intrigued.

“What if it turns out you’re an invading alien from the future?” Honestly...let him invade. You’re not supposed to be here anyway.

I’m pretty insulted by this. The aliens went through all this trouble to help in 1968...where are our alien helpers NOW?

The cat straight up attacked his face.

Kirk is so fond of Spock being fond of the cat.

“It’s a lovely animal. I feel myself strangely drawn to it.”

Kirk is way too confused by Seven--an allegedly human person with super-human abilities that he says come from aliens--and yet, he’s met Charlie X so??? Is this not the same?

Kirk’s got the whole crew checking in on zoom.

(I actually do like this sequence of him getting video calls from different parts of the ship.)

“Weren’t orbiting H-bombs a huge problem in 1968?” Looks at the camera like he’s on The Office. Not the subtlest bit of writing in the “social commentary” genre. I do say this with love, though. I always enjoy when they comment on contemporary problems.

“He has a totally perfect body.” Lol don’t distract these two bisexuals.

[soft meowing]

“The prisoner has escaped.” The way this is shot, it looks like he’s talking about the cat.

Hmm, I do love the decor. Very 60s. This honestly immediately feels like a different show, and a much more dated show; even when the Enterprise time travels, it tends not to time travel to... office space.

Love the little sounds the computer makes.

So is Isis supposed to be one of the fancy aliens? It’s never explained but one must assume she is.

Aw, he’s petting her paw.

So I assumed the cats sounds are real, but just dubbed. They’re not lol. Which I guess isn’t surprising: this cat makes a lot of noises! They were provided by a human voice actress.

Damn.... I want a secret bookshelf that turns around to reveal a super computer with a big screen. “Computer... play Netflix.”

That’s what Seven does in his spare time.

The computer is an AI. “Beta 5 snobbery” lol.

Where are OUR alien overlords to stop US from destroying ourselves before WE can mature into a peaceful society?

This is really masterful exposition lol. Not forced or awkward at all.

ST sure does love the snooty female computer trope.

“Get us the proper costumes.” Yes, get Spock his Requisite Hat.

Omicron IV....that’s one of the names they use in Futurama lol. Such nerds.

Another excellent Spock Hat.

I love Seven’s various IDs. Great style. I wish my driver’s license looked like those.

“Who do you think you are?” He hasn’t decided yet. That’s why he was shifting through his IDs.

Seven is not smart lol. Like, he should have figured out way faster that this lady isn’t one of the Alien Overlords. He asks her the code question, she doesn’t understand it, and he... assumes she’s just really in character? Dude, that’s what the code questions are for!!! To help you identify people! Otherwise you could just straight up ask: are you an alien?

Instead he’s like “oh, you silly alien, you’re playing with me,” and then is forced to trap her, reveal his whole mission, and ultimately ensnare her in his plan.

I want that typewriter. Voice recognition typewriter.

"My incompetence has made you aware of very secret devices." Well at least he knows.

Trained cat!

The alien overlords were killed in a random car accident. That’s ironic.

Oh look, a real rocket!

Brown pants + short sleeved shirt + tie is such a Classic 60s look.

This security guard doesn’t think it’s weird that this random dude has a cat with him? Is this part of Isis’s alien power?

Except for the part where it’s a weapon, it’s pretty cool to see all this build up to, like... launching stuff into space. Exciting.

Isis likes to be on shoulders. Just like Little Guy.

New hat for Spock. His outer wear hat, and now his fancy hat. There is something to be said for this ep, and that is Kirk and Spock in suits.

Amazing how they literally launched rockets with computers that old. Like seeing the big bank of primitive computers is totally wild. We put people on the moon that way! Amazing.

“Meow.” Lol, Isis is stressed so she’s speaking like a cat. That’s a pretty funny joke actually.

Seven is so incompetent. If he’d just let the Enterprise help, Scotty could have fixed that rocket issue in like 3 seconds.

Lol everyone’s just pulling Gary through space. Now on the Enterprise. Now in the office.

Why does this computer have a hug black screen if it only displays images on the small white circle?

"Spock and  I in custody. Main characters, doing nothing, knowing nothing, totally useless and irrelevant. I have never felt more helpless." Literally what is even the point of them today? Does Spock even have lines outside of “I like the cat”?

Isis is jealous of Roberta. Is she.. in a relationship with Seven lol?

Uhura is listening to everyone in the world. She probably has a universal translator on, but I do feel like this scene implies she just...understands all the languages.

So now the warhead is armed and heading to somewhere vague... in other words, everyone has collectively made the situation worse.

....Or this was Seven’s plan all along? To scare people into ceasing to be so careful with nuclear weaponry? As someone who knows humans better than this guy, I think this is a dumbass plan.

“That’s why so many people in my generation are kind of crazy and rebels.” Same, sweetheart.

Really this is just a story about bad communication. If Seven had told Kirk his plan upfront, Kirk would have helped him. And if Kirk weren’t so insistent on involving himself in something just because he happens to be somewhere he probably shouldn’t be, we wouldn’t have this issue either. The hubris of everyone.

Overall, just a really forced narrative imo.

Or that’s how it was supposed to be lol. The Irony of time travel. By it’s nature, everything has already worked out.

Kirk and Spock are like “You’re welcome. Peace out.”

Honestly... Isis was the only good part. Such a talented cat actor!! Or trio of cat actors, I guess. Had to do all those stunts and stuff.. .amazing. I also liked the concept of Isis. How she turned into a human later just to troll Roberta. How she’s never really explained--one must assume, an alien? Plus I pretty much never get tired of human + animal teams where the animal makes animal noises and the human just understands and answers in English.

As a stand alone sci fi concept...it was okay. Kinda dated by now. The alien tech was nifty and Roberta could have grown on me. Maybe even Seven, though he left a lot to be desire. That said, the narrative relied a lot on people getting in each other’s way for no reason, which I find very frustrating.

But as a Star Trek episode....no. The main characters were just nuisances on the side lines!! I’m not even sure what Kirk’s mission here was--to try to figure out what Seven was doing? And stop him if necessary? But he never really decided if it was or not, until the point where not trusting him would basically cause a nuclear war? I don’t know, I found it all very frustrating. The melding of the original show and the spinoff was not smooth.

If I were watching this in 1968, I’d feel very cheated. THIS was the season finale? That’s it? I don’t even get a real Star Trek episode and now I have to wait months for anything new?

And what I get after all that waiting is Spock’s Brain?? I’d be tempted to quit. If I had a tumblr in 1969 I’d be writing multi-paragraph rants about how the best show on television has completely nose-dived lol.

But then there’s The Enterprise Incident, which is one of the best episodes... I don’t know, man. It’s a conundrum. I’ve only seen maybe half of season 3 but from what I remember it’s very uneven: some of the best eps (The Enterprise Incident, For the World Is Hollow, Day of the Dove) mixed in with some of the worst (Spock’s Brain, The Paradise Syndrome), plus some that are good concepts but shoddily executed (The Way to Eden). So we’ll see what I think about it when I see it all in one piece, in air date order.

[horrorslashergirl]

Female!Chromeskull x Male!Reader- Reborn

My first try at writing Female!Chromeskull (Jessica Cromeans). This one is for the males, because they also deserve a piece of Chromeskull. ENJOY!~

It all started with you searching for a job, been almost broke, and having to evict the apartment made you feel like walking on thin ice; that's when one of your old friends from high-school, Spann heard of your quest and said she might find you something. You knew she worked for a very high and important business organization.

She had called you to tell you that there is one more assistant job and they're looking to hire someone. Looks like the organization was getting so big and important, Spann, being the primary secretary, couldn't handle everything just by herself and the boss decided that one more person could help things get more smoothly.

Spann told you a little about the CEO and you were surprised that it was a woman. Now, you weren't a sexist, but being to work under a female made you a little anxious, mostly because you couldn't talk to a woman, not even if your life was on the line.

The interview went pretty good and looks like they hired you mostly because you could speak ASL fluently and your boss was mute. Your boss was pretty, no, scratch that, she was gorgeous; tall, hourglass figure, long tresses of platinum blonde hair pulled into an impeccable pony-tail, dollface like make-up, black clothes. She was the epitome of a femme fatale and you were surprised you managed to answer all her questions without making yourself a fool.

Before you could get up she stopped you, raising her hand, the manicured red nail-polish on display.

'That won't do.' she signed, making you furrow your brows in confusion.

"What are you talking about?" you asked in a quite nervous voice, afraid you screwed up with something.

'Your clothes.' she signed, gesturing to your attire.

Looking down, you had to agree on a little with her. You were wearing a simple white shirt with faded jeans and black converse; not exactly that professional, but you didn't have the money to buy Versace and Calvin Klein. You looked down in shame, feeling like you were so out of place, then you heard her walk towards you, looking you she flashed you an apologetic smile.

'Don't worry, sweetie. You're new here, but there's always room for improvement.' she signed, motioning to you to follow her and you did, after all, she was your boss now, or so you hoped.

That day she took you out for shopping, buying you new clothes, even going with you to hairstyles to do something about your unkempt hair. You looked yourself into the mirror, seeing a whole new person and you wondered if it was really you. Your hair was all freshly cut, the upper part swiped back, then you looked lower; black button-up shirt, black slacks, and black oxford shoes.

'See...a little magic.' she signed, flashing you her pearly white teeth.

After working under her for almost two years, you started to learn much more about Jessica Cromeans and that her business wasn't exactly that orthodox like, but you learned to accept everything that included a very fat paid job that most would kill for.

With these two years came the taboo feeling and you cursed yourself every time you thought about your boss in the most inappropriate ways possible.

'She is married for Christ's sake! Get your mind out of that, [Name]!' you scolded yourself mentally, as you typed on the laptop, working at your desk for the murderous organization along with Spann.

'She would never look at you that way. You're way out of her league.' you told yourself with a sigh.

Yes, you were falling for your boss, so imagine the shock you felt when she was almost killed and destroyed. Staying close to the operating room, pacing back and forth, with Preston and Spann sitting on the chairs, waiting for their boss to wake up.

"Can you stop that, kid?" Preston grumbled, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

You sighed, leaning on the wall and looking at your Rolex, counting down the minutes that passed.

When Jessica woke up and you heard she was alive and alright, you were over the moon, but you knew she would never be the same, ever. She became more distant and much more abrasive, but you couldn't blame her. You would be so too if someone disfigured your face.

You were glad that she was back and continued her murderous tendencies, but another incident happened that made her almost have a break-down.

Her husband found out about everything and you didn't know if you were relieved or sad that he shot himself in the interrogation room of the FBI.

Jessica stayed inside her home for at last a week and she called you to bring her some supplies; after all, you were her assistant, so a job was to be done. Seeing her modern luxurious mansion made you feel small and insignificant, but you continued, entering the house and calling for her; no response. You sighed, hoping, at last, to receive a message on the work phone, but nothing.

You groaned in annoyance and walked up the main staircase to her bedroom, maybe she was asleep. Opening the huge double doors you saw her at the mirror vanity, looking into her reflection, a lipstick in her hand that she clenched so tightly it broke.

"Ummm...boss? I brought the food and the supplies." you said, catching her attention.

Looking now better at her face, you agreed that she was destroyed; the once impeccable face, now a mass of scarred skin, her functional brown eye looking at you wide open.

'Leave it on the front table and get out.' she signed, looking away from you.

Your lips pulled into a thin line and you could bear to see her likes this; she used to be a very confident woman, marching with superiority whenever she went, so seeing her so vulnerable, broke your heart.

"Look, Miss. You have to get out at some point." you said, putting the bag on a table close and took a step towards her. Big mistake.

In an instant, she was in front of you with a glare directed to your face, teeth pulled into a snarl.

'I said to get out.' she signed into your face.

"Look. It's not that bad." you started, but were met with a slap across your face.

'Not bad? I'm a monster! I'm ugly! I'm disgusting!' she signed with ferocity.

You were done taking her bullshit and caught her wrists in a tight grip, your eyes piercing into her brown one, wide-open that you had the guts to stand your ground; the submissive soft-spoken [Name].

"Stop all this goddamn signing!" you snarled, your eyes looking from her eye to her lips, scarred, but still so kissable, so tempting. Before you knew it your lips crashed into hers, a kiss so needy and full of attention, all towards her.

If Jessica could speak she would probably squeal and scream, not expecting to be kissed, not with that face and by all means, by you. The nerdy [Name] that in all these years she turned into a handsome and suave man; you really evolved into a man since you started working for her. You gulped back and gasped, blush on your face.

"Look, Jessica. I'm not gonna tell you this a hundred times, but you're still beautiful. You still have the charisma, your intelligence, strong  and by all that happened I still find myself longing for you." you declared, making the blonde woman that was your boss almost tear up.

You knew you probably screwed up, so you were ready to leave until she pushed you back into a kiss, much more feverish than the one before, her hands running up and down your torso. The surprise that you felt was quickly overtaken, your arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer against your body.

The next hour was a blur of clothes flying everywhere, lots of biting and kissing, hands running over each other's body; it was pure bliss, like a dream that finally comes true, especially when you pushed into her, her mouth pulled into a silent gasp.

"Oh, Jessica..." you groaned, grinding your hips into hers. It was heaven inside her; so wet and tight.

Sadly, all the pent-up libido in you came to a final and you felt your length twitching, ready to pull out of her, only for her legs to tighten around your waist, trapping you in.

"N-No...I-I'm not wearing a condom....I...Y-You're not on the pill." you gasped, looking down at her.

'I don't care. Cum inside me...Fuck me.' she signed quickly, making you throw your head back and fill her up, her hands pulling your head on her chest, her fingernails scratching your scalp, making you groan, trying to catch your breath.

That's pretty much how you became Mr. Cromeans and she was more than delighted you were so understanding of everything, and I mean everything.

You opened the silver suitcase, pulling out the chrome skull mask, your fingertips brushing over the cold metal, then you felt arms wrapping around your waist, the skull ring on the ring finger, and the red stiletto nails giving you all the guess for who it was.

Jessica was nuzzling on your broad back, taking in your scent and masculine cologne she had bought for you.

Your smile turned into a deadly smirk as you looked back at the skull mask, the twin knives resting into the suitcase.

Oh yes....Things are just going to be dandy.

[kylorengarbagedump]

Little Bird: Chapter 26

Read on AO3.  Part 25 here. Part 27 here.

Summary: You're not sure what Ren is thinking. You're not sure what you're thinking, either.

Words: 2900

Warnings: Handmaid’s Tale AU

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: I feel like every time I try to write this fic, I'm just... like... "Oh, let's try an action scene. Oh, let's try to write a party. Oh, let's fuckin', uh, inject some attempt at connection and emotion"? I don't know, haha. Reply down below if you think Anna be doin' too much.

That being said, the support and engagement I receive from y'all truly makes my day and week and life better. Every single comment is so special to me, I don't take any of it for granted. I feel so lucky and love y'all so much. Thank you! <3

The Knight stepped forward as you crossed the gate, a black wall of carbon and fabric, the pointed red cross on the breast of his cape the only break in the shadow. “Commander Ren requests your presence.”

You stopped, tossing a glance over the masked man before nodding. An escort wasn’t typical--not for you, anyway. “Well. Lead the way.”

The Knights Templar had been patrolling Kylo Ren’s property since before he’d returned from the hospital. After he’d called them to Snoke’s to alter the scene, his home had been monitored by at least three of them at any given time. One had gone with you when you were questioned by the Eyes--thanks to Christine’s report that a guard had killed Commander Snoke, you’d been given the benefit of the doubt and released in silence. A good thing, too, since otherwise they might have discovered the suspiciously bloody handprints on your tits.

Today, you spotted two of the Knights at the front gate and two posted at the side-yards--meaning the last two were in the back. You’d only ever seen all six the first day they’d arrived.

He turned, the flutter of his cape revealing the rifle strapped across his torso, and marched up the driveway, past Ren’s Audi, guiding you into the home. The bag in your hand seemed just ounces heavier as you trailed him, heart fluttering at the thought of seeing your Commander. It’d been over a week since you’d spoken. Your last conversation hadn’t gone well.

In a way, it’d been almost a relief on your poor body as it recovered from the concussion, the welts, the hickeys, the scabs on your knees and back. Even your cunt was grateful for a breather--you hadn’t realized what several days of being constantly, aggressively fucked by Kylo Ren’s massive dick had done for your pain tolerance.

That being the case, you would’ve been lying if you said that you hadn’t spent the days since your last tryst remembering the taste of copper on his tongue, the slickened slip of blood on your clit, how he’d looked coated in crimson under the summer sun as the heat of victory, of unity had pumped through you both. That connection had cracked open your ribs, lead your foolish heart to slaughter with the promise of security in your Commander’s arms. You weren’t delusional to believe that he wanted you as more than his Handmaid--no, the delusion had been the belief that he’d ever see you as his equal.

The Knight led you through the home, and you dropped off your bag in the kitchen--Emma and Rose were clattering away, and you heard Johana’s voice, a needle in your ears.

“No, no, don’t be stupid. Those don’t go there. Emma, will you start the tomato salad for the bruschetta, already? We need at least three different hors d'oeuvres--do you want to be shipped off to the Colonies?”

“Ms. Johana, please, I’m just now--”

“Get to work.”

You frowned. It sounded as if they were preparing for something, but what it could be, you didn’t know. The thought of another dinner party made your stomach roil.

The doors to Kylo Ren’s den were closed when you arrived--the Knight pushed one open, standing solid as he waited for you to enter. Glancing between him and the floor, head bowed, you passed through, and the door shut behind you.

In the light of the day, Ren seemed significantly less suffocating--but no less heady, no less beguiling. He leaned back in his chair, dressed in an open white linen shirt that revealed a ridiculously tempting patch of clavicle. Documents sprawled out in front of him, a fountain pen in his hand. His eyes were dark, full lips pursed as he watched you enter, following your footsteps and swaying skirts as you sat across from him. The bandages were gone, now, and you saw his scar, a pretty pink thread that stretched from his brow to his neck. He swallowed, and the line of it shifted with the motion of his throat. Your fingers itched, wanting to trace it.

“It’s been over a week.”

“So it has.”

You felt more awkward than indignant--you and Ren had plenty of ideological spats, but you’d typically resolved those arguments using your tongues for a completely different purpose. Now, he was solidifying his hold on Gilead as the Lead Commander, and his extended absence from your life had frustrated the tear you’d made in your relationship. Speaking with him now felt like taking a nail file to your teeth.

Gesturing over your shoulder, you said, “Is the Knight Templar really necessary?”

Ren glanced at the closed door, then to you. “You fail to understand how precarious a transition of power can be.”

“But for me?”

He blinked, gaze drifting to the papers, a slow breath gathering and leaving his chest through his nose. “I will ensure that nothing will ever happen to or harm you while you are in this home.” His eyes drilled you to your seat. “Or in my presence.”

“Oh.” Heat tingled your cheeks. “I see.”

The awkwardness refused to cease. It was like cotton, clogging the channels of communication. In the silence, Ren continued to review and add notations to the forms on his desk--they looked to be bylaws or something similar--so you decided to occupy your hands, too. You sat forward, snagged a pen, a piece of scrap paper he’d discarded to the side, and began to doodle. Even before Gilead, you’d never been particularly skilled with art, but your hands had rusted from years of being denied the ability to hold a pen. It felt unwieldy, the lines you made wriggled like worms across the page.

“Anyway.” You started to sketch what you hoped appeared like vines--they were shaky, trembling strands with misshapen blobs for leaves. “Why did you ask me here?”

He considered you for a moment, watched you draw. “Last time we spoke,” he said, “you said there was nothing I could do to make your existence as a Handmaid bearable.” He paused as you tried to create another stem of vines. “I disagree.”

You sighed, not bothering to meet his gaze. “Unless you can destroy Gilead, it never will be.”

“You could be my advisor.” His voice was soft, but certain. “Help me create a new order.”

A pause--you were frustrated with the way these leaves were turning out, anyway--and you glanced up at him, brow cocked. “How could I possibly advise you?”

Ren took his own pen and placed it to your paper. “I want to know your thoughts.” The ink spilled in a gorgeous, swooping arc as he drew a single stem and leaf. “Lead with your wrist.” A tiny, teasing smirk quirked the corner of his lip. “You offer critique so freely otherwise. Wouldn’t it behoove me to make use of it?”

You made another attempt, starting a new stem, guiding your pen across the paper as Ren had suggested. “I don’t want to be around the Council as your Handmaid advisor.” Half of you was playing along. The other half was traitorously curious.

“Then you’d be the advisor in my home.”

“No thank you.” The pen slipped as you added sloppy detail. You sighed. “That isn’t an equal.”

“Then you’d come with me.” He flicked tiny veins into the leaf he drew. “Use simple lines.”

“Well, I don’t want to do that.” You tried to imitate his movement, but your motor skills were clunky, unfinessed. “Any other awful offer you’re willing to make me?”

“You could sleep in my bed.”

Everything paused--your hands, your breath, your thoughts. You couldn’t think to move.

“And still wear this uniform.”

“No.”

You exhaled, your gaze traveled from his strong hands, up the thick muscles of his arms, past the sheen of skin at his chest and neck, landing on his own eyes. Streams of sunlight cast amber irises in gilded vulnerability, the constant void in his pupils filled now with something present and deep, a trench of new, tender need. He was seeking you, inviting you to a forbidden place you’d never dreamed you’d go--the technicalities seemed distant and secondary to the urgent ache you’d felt for his company. He swallowed again. The scar bulged.

But Johana, clinging to meaning. But the Resistance, whom you’d avoided since the coup. But the other Handmaids, languishing in the beds of their Commanders against their will. The thought of waking up in Kylo Ren’s arms filled you with a warmth that nearly choked you, scorched your heart with its heat. That warmth was drowned, almost immediately, in a blizzard of dreadful reality. You could never be his equal. He didn’t even know your name.

Wetting your lips, you started a new bundle of vines in the corner of the page. “Do you ever feel empty?” you asked. “Lost?”

For a moment, Ren didn’t respond, only followed your fingers as they worked to pull the image in your mind to life. Then he moved, pushing his fountain pen on the paper, working in the corner opposite of yours, whirling tapered black lines into an abstract plant design. You glimpsed his work with a bizarre pang of jealousy, but you continued, scrawling your best imitation into your own space. It felt easy to talk, like this, focused on your busy hands.

“You know,” you said, “the only thing that’s made me feel alive in the past three years is being with you.” You looped one of the stems to the middle of the page, adding a couple of ugly, thick-veined leaves. “But maybe before that, too. I don’t know. When you do stuff like this, it makes me feel worse. “

He swiftly swirled a long, naked vine. It came close to touching one of yours. “Worse.”

“Have you ever known something was wrong…” You weren’t sure how to finish the sentence. More and more stems piled up in your corner, encroaching on his work. “Have you known something was wrong, but felt like… the only way you can even think about taking your next breath is if you do it?”

Ren stopped. The pen bled a fat daub into the paper. When you looked up, his mouth was parted. He was gazing into you.

“Yes.”

Your eyes were chained to his, your breath hollow in your chest, fingers withering with weakness, your pen tumbling from your grip.

“And have you--have you felt like doing the right thing… but knew that it would be impossible?”

He wasn’t breathing, either--he was only staring, memorizing something.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Always.”

You blinked and wet your lips, wondering how he could survive with the same constant, crushing pain on his chest and in his mind. Ren regarded you in stillness, an awakened honesty pulsing between you.

“How do you live?” you asked. “I… It feels like I’m…”

“Dying.”

“Yes.” You sat forward, nodding. “Yes. Dying. Like… my actions don’t even matter. Like I don’t even…”

He broke from your gaze, scanning the piece you’d both created, your vines reaching desperately for each other from the corners, separated by empty white space. “Have a choice.”

“Yes.” The heat of understanding burned through you. “How do you do it?”

Ren glanced up, the severity in his stare shrouding him in shadow. “I destroy it.”

Air stuck in your throat. “What?”

“Until it is nothing.” His face betrayed no emotion. “I destroy it.”

Perhaps that’s where you differed. You hadn’t tried to destroy that feeling. You’d tipped headfirst into it, choked on it, allowed it to consume you. Underneath its weight, you’d suffocated, starving for respite that didn’t exist.

“That’s how being with you makes me feel.”

His chest fell, air escaping his nose. “Yet you were there.”

“What?”

Ren took your hand in his, led you to pick up your pen, curling his long fingers around yours. His grip brought you refuge, its firm warmth guiding you through slow, sweeping motions until you’d grown a beautiful shoot of vines on the page. Throat tight, you watched his face under a new lens, his features now in soft focus, skin kissed by light, hair shifting over his cheeks.

“You could’ve run. Let me die.” His hold tightened, sparks shooting between your skin as he led you through darting veins in a leaf. “You didn’t.”

Words wouldn’t leave. You could only sit as he released you, allowed you to admire your collaboration. His side of the page had branched into a bloom of abstruse lines, black rivers running through the paper, not entirely vines, but precise and pretty all the same. Your side was less complex, crafted with a child’s hand, but a clear attempt at plantlife--thin, shaky stems snaking from the corner, ovals tacked on as leaves. Then there was the patch you’d drawn together. That part filled the center, entirely different from your creation and his own, a gorgeous weave of coiled fronds that crawled to three-dimensional life.

A shiver rippled up your spine. You met his eyes for the hundredth time, but drowned in them as if it was the first.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, not sure what you were referring to, anymore.

Ren’s lashes fluttered at his cheeks. His lips seemed pinker. “Practice, little bird.” After a moment, he drew a deep breath. “Johana’s hosting a party this evening. For my installation.” He pushed the pens to the side. “I left a dress in your room. I want you to wear it.”

Your heart seized, and you shook your head. “What?” you asked. “A dress?”

“Yes.” His face fell in a mask of disinterest. “You’d said last time we spoke you wanted more than what you have.”

“But…” Johana. The Council. The other Commanders. “Everyone else…”

“Gilead will bend to my design.” He sniffed, folding the drawing and placing it in his desk. “You’re part of that design.”

Heat flooded your face. “Oh.”

There was that feeling again--the same one that burgeoned between you, twisted you in its temptation, that robbed you of rationality. The one Ren sought to destroy, the one that you wanted to surrender to. You despised him. And you couldn’t wait to wear whatever stupid fucking dress he’d picked for you.

“Vic,” Ren called out. The door opened, the Knight stepped through. “Escort her to her room.”

Nodding, you stood, heading toward the door. Before you crossed the threshold, you glanced at him a final time. He was watching you.

“I’ll see you this evening.”

You swallowed. “Yes, Commander.”

It was strange, walking the halls with a silent usher--and having him wait until you closed yourself in your room was even stranger. You stood, waiting for the Knight’s footsteps to descend the staircase before you ran to your tiny dresser, tearing open the drawers to reveal the dress Ren had hidden there. Hands shaking, face hot, you grabbed it and shook it out, flipping it under your scrutiny.

It was still conservative--a high neck, long sleeves. But the fabric was a soft, pink chiffon, draped to the waist, a design that would skim your figure, but not reveal it. Round fabric buttons concealed the collar, cutting through a window of gauzy lace. You twirled it, admiring the flutter of the hem, imagining how it would feel on your skin. The longer you stared, the shorter your breath became, mind swarmed with thought. How would it feel, to walk through the home wearing this, to feel the brush of something over than starchy cotton at your ankles? How would your Commander react, seeing you in it? Fire stormed your skin, made your thighs squeeze together at the mere thought of him gazing at you, mesmerized, captivated--

Why did this excite you, when you were still his property? Perhaps it was that promise of respite, this dress your brief gasp of air before you would be plunged back into a sea of misery. Or perhaps it was the way he’d looked at you, the sincerity in his eyes, the throb in your pulse that lingered from his hand around yours.

His reaction was one thing, though. What about everyone else?

Knowing you’d be a Handmaid out of uniform sent your heart into your throat, had you considering tossing the damn dress out of your window and burying yourself in your sheets. It wouldn’t just be Ren seeing you--it’d be his Wife, his colleagues, his would-be supporters. The fact that you’d be wearing this flowy, hispy thing in front of all of them inspired a rush of unearned horror through your head, so thick you could swim in it. Yet your status in society could hardly sink any lower. Other than scandal, what response did you truly have to fear?

After all, there was another feeling, too, a burbling bubble at the base of your brain.

Vindication.

Yes, you were special, you were more than a Handmaid, and while you were still stuck on this awful hell-rock, you’d prove it to them. You’d prove it to them all.

Tossing the dress on the bed, you wrung out your arms, ears aflame. Outside, birds twittered in chorus, their song an echo of the melody in your chest:

Hopeful. Jubilant. Naive.

[pendragonsandbuckleys]

When The Dust Settles

Summary: The fight at CrashCon had been a mess. 

Michael had found that his genius really did increase when he was pissed off and he had managed to build the fateful bomb in just over ten hours - with little thought to his own safety, to be honest, when the fate of someone else far more important had been looming over him the entire time.

But nothing had gone as planned. Or, in a way, everything had gone as planned. That is, if the plan was to make sure that everyone he loved was still alive by the end of the evening.

Word Count: 1,821

[Also on AO3]

The fight at CrashCon had been a mess.

Michael had found that his genius really did increase when he was pissed off and he had managed to build the fateful bomb in just over ten hours - with little thought to his own safety, to be honest, when the fate of someone else far more important had been looming over him the entire time.

But nothing had gone as planned. Or, in a way, everything had gone as planned. That is, if the plan was to make sure that everyone he loved was still alive by the end of the evening.

CrashCon was in full swing by the time they arrived. Hundreds of people in tin foil hats and homemade alien costumes, so unaware of what was about to unfold.

Helena had cruelly made Michael hand the bomb over to Jesse himself. Hand over his life to the one man who was so hell-bent on destroying it.

But despite being promised, he still hadn’t seen Alex yet. Hell, since Helena had handed him the specs for the device, he’d wondered if maybe he was simply clinging to some naive hope that Alex was even still alive. That the Manes men hadn’t already wiped out the flaw in their bloodline.

He had been so tempted to up and run with the bomb when he noticed Alex in the distance. Alive and whole and if Flint hadn’t have been standing far too close to him to be natural and Alex didn’t have that heartbreakingly pained expression on his face, Michael could believe that the entire kidnapping hadn’t been real.

But no, Alex was still clearly in danger so Michael wasn’t going to risk anything.

And that’s when it all went to hell.

First Jesse had the bomb. He was keeping it safe in his possession until the opportune moment which had given Michael enough time to escape his captors clutches and find Max and Isobel to warn them of what was going on.

Then from some quick thinking and a distraction from Max, Michael had ended up with the device, then the failsafe that he had secretly installed failed, then Helena had managed to grab it, then Michael lost track of it completely for a good thirty minutes, then Flint had it, then maybe Jesse again?

Then Alex.

And it was like Flint saw red. A traitor, that’s what he’d called Alex. With no sign of regret or remorse he had completely disowned his own brother when Michael had mentioned his name the day before.

And now, Flint showed no hesitation when he opened fire on the enemy.

Michael barely had a second to register what was going on when the screaming began and he was suddenly caught in the middle of the huge stampede of terrified alien fanatics rushing to safety.

There had been gunfire and smoke and explosions from a hit power transformer and it was impossible to tell who was where and who was hurt.

But it was over quickly. Police trucks and ambulances arrived in record time and soon everything was quiet again.

The injured were tended to and fairground employees returned to their rides to take stock of the damage and through the still smokey haze Max had jogged over him.

“Flint and Jesse are down, Iz has the bomb, it’s safe.” Max told him, the words sluggishly reaching his brain through the ringing in his ears, but he didn’t care about that right now.

And like Max could read his thoughts, he placed one hand on Michael’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “He’s over by the stage. He’s okay.”

Michael barely let out a ‘thank you’ before rushing to the wooden platform that was supposed to play host to the biggest event of the evening.

Just the sight of Alex made Michael freeze, his chest heaving with relief.

The airman was sitting on the platform, his legs hanging over the edge with his feet just grazing the grass. He was fiddling with his hands and he just looked…lost.

From a distance it seemed like he was unhurt, physically, but Michael could only imagine what was running through his mind. He had almost just been killed by his brother, not to mention the whole being held captive by his own family for almost a week.

Michael wanted to hug him, he wanted to literally cry with joy at the fact that Alex was not only alive, but actually safe now in front of him. But he also didn’t want to overwhelm him. Being casual was key if he didn’t want to spook the man who was so clearly wrapped up inside his own thoughts right now.

But it’s like his brain was trying to process so many emotions that he wasn’t sure whether to show or not, that he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“So, you still think there’s some good in everyone?” He playfully nudged Alex’s shoulder with his own as he took a seat next to him.

Alex’s withdrawn expression quickly crumbled as his eyes filled with tears. Looking to the ground with a shaky inhale.

“Oh my god, no Alex, I’m sorry, that was a really dumb joke.” He frantically tried to backtrack, turning to face Alex properly as he placed a reassuring hand on the other man’s knee.

He watched as Alex bit the inside of his cheek for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating huff of laughter.

“You’re right though.” Alex whispered, “It was stupid of me. My blind optimism, my naivety. It almost got you killed.”

“Alex…”

“If I hadn’t have been so trusting, none of this would have happened. You, Max and Isobel, you wouldn’t have nearly died.”

Up close Michael could see how exhausted he looked. The moonlight accentuated his tired eyes and pale cheeks and the fine tremors running through his body were easy to miss if you weren’t looking close enough.

Michael ducked his head to try and get Alex to look at him properly, the corners of his mouth rising slightly when those tear filled eyes met his own.

“I lied, you know.” He smiled gently, “What I said in the bunker. Your ability to see the good in everyone, even after all the hurt you’ve gone through. I’ve never stopped loving that about you.”

Alex’s lips parted as if to speak but Michael didn’t want to give him a chance to write off what he was saying.

“I didn’t say it was stupid because it’s naive. It just- It scared me, hearing you say it. Just the thought of how easily people could take advantage of you and your faith in humanity. How easily you could get hurt because of it.”

“It serves me right,” Alex shrugged, turning back to look at his hands, “What my dad and Flint did to me, it’s my own fault.”

“Hey, hey, no that’s not- you know what, can we start over? I’m really fucking happy that you’re alive.”

“You are?” Alex asked, the words coming out quiet and shaky.

Michael spluttered in surprise and was unable to hide the confusion on his face even if he wanted to. “Alex, I just made a bomb that could wipe out what’s left of my entire species, in less than half a day might I add, because there was no way in hell that I was going to let you die.”

Alex looked up once more as Michael spoke and it was clear that he’d failed in his mission to hold back his tears as they feel silently down his face. He had gotten so good at hiding his pain recently, so to see it written so raw on his features was a surprise to Michael.

The cowboy was happy to admit that he was the first to shy away from those big emotions. When things got tough, he’d smash things - create a mess or create a scene. He’d say and do things to sabotage his own happiness and the happiness of the people he cared about. But right now, for the first time in a long time, there was no urge to start an argument or walk away - but the exact opposite. It was so clear that Alex needed reassurances and Michael wasn’t going to start letting him down again now.

“And I would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant keeping you safe.”

It was like those words were the magical key to opening the floodgates because a second later a breath caught in Alex’s throat before he was racked his sobs. Michael didn’t hesitate to tenderly guide Alex’s head to his chest and held him tightly as his shoulders shook and his cries were muffled by Michael’s shirt.

He could feel the checkered flannel getting wet but he couldn’t even begin to care. He squeezed his eyes shut as he rubbed one hand up and down the length of Alex’s back, content to stay there for as long as it took for Alex to let it all out.

“They really hate me that much.” Alex hiccuped, turning his face slightly so that his words could be heard but he didn't break the contact with Michael’s chest.

“Forget them, okay? They’re not important, they don’t mean anything. They’re not your family Alex, they never have been. But we are, Liz, Maria, Isobel…me. And we’re not going anywhere.”

He could feel Alex nod slightly and for now that would have to do. He’d learnt a long time ago that he couldn’t make Alex believe anything he didn’t want to, but Michael just really hoped that his words had been convincing.

He could still feel Alex crying as he repositioned his chin on top of the other man’s head. He took a deep breath as he felt his own eyes begin to well up.

“You know the whole where’s-Alex-scavenger-hunt thing was quite therapeutic actually, I even hit your dad over the head with his own crutch.”

Alex couldn’t hold back his disbelieving chuckle and Michael’s chest warmed at the sound.

“I did that once too, with my own crutch.” Alex whispered as he clung weakly to Michael’s shirt.

“Wait, what??” Michael laughed. “You never told me this!”

He felt Alex chuckle again but the man said no more.

It was quiet between them for a moment. Alex’s shaking began to slow as Michael continued to hold him.

“You shouldn’t have built that bomb…but thank you for trying to save me.”

A thank you instead of a lecture? Michael chalked it up to the exhaustion but received it gratefully nonetheless. He’d probably get an earful from Alex tomorrow once he was more rested and could form actual unemotional, coherent thoughts, but right now Michael couldn’t ask for any more.

I’ll always save you he thought to himself as he closed his eyes once more and held Alex just a little bit tighter.

[lettersofwrittencollective]

The Pull (85/?)

Summary: The Ragnulf’s are one of the oldest lines of werewolves known. A gift from ancient times was gifted to them. Though not all of the line will experience it. There are some who will experience a Pull. This Pull leads them to their true mate, a soulmate. The problem is, just because the wolf finds their true mate does not mean that they are the same for that person.

Author: @lettersofwrittencollective​

Pairing: Stiles x Hale!Cousin OC (Reader)

Word count: 1396

Warnings: angst,  

<<Prev || The Pull Masterlist || Next>>

Once you’d figured out that Garrett was after Liam, the boys had decided that Liam would be staying off the field. Now it was just a matter of convincing Coach to bench one of his best players. 

You, however, still felt like there was more to it.

With the injury on the field, the game had experienced a slightly longer time-out and Coach had been talking to the other Coach and the Ref while they took care of whatever they had to take care of. 

Liam was waiting to talk to Coach, a nervous bounce in his stance. 

Scott and Stiles were filling Kira in on what they’d just discovered and, you’re pretty sure, were charging her with keeping an eye on the pup. 

Positive that there was more to the story, your eyes were scanning the crowds for the girl in the white T-Shirt and leather jacket. Garrett’s little friend… Violet. 

There’s no sign of her in the stands and that doesn’t sit right with you.  It makes your wolf antsy and you can feel her pacing just below the surface. 

Pair that with the fact that you’re sure you had heard multiple growls when Liam and Brett had collided, you’re starting to have a bad feeling about this. 

“I’ll be back,” you tell your friends over your shoulder, not really paying attention to whether or not they actually hear you or pay attention. 

Making your way towards the school, you notice that the ambulance is still in the parking lot, a terrible sign really. 

Heading towards the school, you make your way in near the lockers. As soon as you open the door, your eyes are drawn to a sight about halfway down the hall— bodies on the floor. 

The sight terrifies you and you can feel your heart beginning to race a million miles an hour. However, you know that if it had been Brett growling on that field, you have to find him. Taking a deep breath, you make your way towards the open locker room door as quietly as you can. 

As you do, you can hear Brett’s voice, “What did you do to me?”

The fact that you were right about there being more to what was going on was a small victory. But the sound of the girl's voice pulled a small growl from you. 

“You were cut with a poisoned blade,” she explains, “It was laced with wolfsbane — it won’t kill you. But this will.”

By this time, you’re just outside the door and you take one more solidifying breath, while Brett asks why she’s doing this. 

Looking in the door, you watch as Violet kicks his arms out from under him, knocking Brett completely down as she answers, “Because you’re worth a lot of money Brett.”

So he’s on a part of the list you haven’t cracked yet…

You watch as she moves to straddle Brett but before she can do anything to him, you rush her, knocking the girl off of him and shoving her, headfirst, into the mirrors in front of you. 

Turning around, you lean over Brett, who looks like he’s been through hell at this point, and you start to look for the cut. 

You don’t see anything and go to ask him only to find that he’s passed out. 

You’re so distracted with him that you don’t even notice the wire being slipped over your head. 

You’re tuned into it when you feel the wire tighten against your skin and a burning sensation begins. 

“He said we shouldn’t try,” Violets smug voice echoes in your ear, “But now I’ve got you. I got the Natasha Ragnulf and next I’m going after Scott and Stiles. ”

The sound of her voice pisses you off but it’s the threat to Stiles that makes something inside you snap. Growling, you manage to slip your fingers under the wire. Pulling at it, you can feel Violet trying to tighten the wire and you can feel the burning sensation against your skin but you manage to pull it far enough away from your neck that you’re able to turn around. 

Turning around, you’re purple eyes meet her brown eyes and you watch as realization dawns on her that she’s not going to get to kill you and the stench of fear overpowers her. 

Hand snapping out, you grip her neck as you let out a roar of rage and push her against the wall with enough force that she lets out a gasping breath. 

Letting go just enough for her to take a breath, you push her against the wall again, this time hard enough that her head bounces off the wall. 

You can feel your canines elongate and are about to let your claws follow suit, determined to enjoy her death as a wolf when you hear your mate calling out Lobita. 

Turning to snarl at him and warn him away, you’re anger dissipates slightly at the sight of him. When he approaches you slowly, hands in the air as if to avoid spooking you. 

“You need to let her go Tasha...”

Lobita…

Looking at Stiles, you see his gaze flick over to the girl before flicking back to you, this time there’s a plea in his eyes for you to let the girl go. 

Stiles wasn’t sure if you’d let the girl go.

When he’d gotten the phone call from Malia he’d been surprised that neither Scott nor Tasha had realized that Brett was a werewolf. 

It was as he’d told Scott and the others that he’d realized that you weren’t with them. 

He’d looked for you in the immediate area but hadn’t found you. One of the guys had said he’d seen you headed towards the school and he’d taken off after you. 

He had just opened the doors to the school when the sound of a powerful, pissed off roar came from down the hall.

He’d been torn between pride and terror at the sound. Rushing down the hall he’d stepped into the locker room, his nose assaulted by the scent of burning flesh. He found Tasha pushing a girl up against the wall.

For a moment, he’d been genuinely worried that she was going to hurt the girl. He had called her name a couple of times before the pet name had torn past his lips without his realizing it.

It had been enough to get her attention.  

When she’d turned to him, he had seen the rage in her eyes. 

She was genuinely pissed. 

“You need to let her go Tasha…” he’d told her.

Let her destroy the girl…  he heard a pissed off snarl. It wasn’t hard to piece together what had happened and a part of him was tempted to agree with the voice, to let her tear apart the ragdoll in her hands. 

He wasn’t sure where the voice came from, the anger wasn’t such a surprise, but before he’d had a chance to focus on it, Tasha’s arms were wrapped around his neck.

The scent of eucalyptus and red apples made him feel like he could breathe again. Winter cranberries filled his nose and he felt his heartbeat felt like it was slowing down as it calmed him. 

Wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tight, he’s distracted by the sound of footsteps and looks up to see Scott running into the locker room. 

Scott takes a look at the room and Tasha in Stiles’s arms when he asks, “What’s that smell?”

Stiles is about to ask what when Tasha begins to laugh. 

She pulls back from Stiles, but a moment later, her arm is around his torso as she pulls at something on her neck. It takes him a moment to realize that it’s a necklace with a pendant and it confuses the hell out of him because she definitely had not been wearing that at all earlier today.  

“Seems our little friend over here is the one with the thermal cut wire,” Tasha tells them as she pulls off the necklace and hands it towards them, the offending item dangling from her fingertips. 

He can’t help but to see red, the idea of tearing apart the currently unconscious girl suddenly much more appealing. Tightening his grip on Tasha, he shares a look of shock with Scott who tells him, “We should probably call your dad…”

-

<<Prev || The Pull Masterlist || Next>>

-

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!! Sorry this is short but this just felt the most natural. Let me know what you thought! Comments, reblogs, asks… all of these things let me know how you’re feeling about the story and give me life!

Everything taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24​ @nicole-lynne​ @mummybear​ @emichelle​ @genius2050​ @suhoey​ @fullangelimagines​ @xceafh​

Series taglist:  @treestarrrrrrrr​ @redsalv20​ @truthdaze​ @cutiepiemimi13​  @unoriginallysara​  @the-three-eyed-ravenclaw​  @linktomyheartpiece​  @sasha-obrienn​  @piccasoe​​ ​@msrawog​ @eternallyvenus​ @michellebarista​ 

@lostinwonderland314​​ @katemusic​ @kiwihoee​  @thesailbells​

Dylan Taglist @blvckcanry​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @theholydestiny​ @delacxurs​ @yaya2503 @thegirlwhoimagined​

Do not copy and paste my writing anywhere without my consent. This work is the property of lettersofwrittencollective. Associated characters belong to MTV and are being borrowed for this work, all OC’s are the property of lettersofwrittencollective. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

Posted 11 March 2020

[jawabear]

(4) A Lesson In Want (Maxwell Lord x Reader)

A/N: Here is part 4 of the story. its a little long so I’m sorry about that but Max is really cute I swear. I don't really know how to summarise this part because quite a lot happens.

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: Smut, slight choking, sub!Max, Pedro Pascal comes with his own warning

Summary: Together again

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Epilogue

She stood in the mirror looking at the dress she was wearing. It was somewhat similar to the one she had worn before. Although, it was a little more concealing then the other. The mirror its self was dirty but she didn’t really care, it just matched how she saw herself, dirty. Her job wasn’t exactly the most respectable profession but she felt she wasn’t made for anything more.

The room was dark, but she was used to it, somehow accustom to living in the darkness, a small light above her that shone a dim orange light through the room. It was cold in her room, nothing more then an attic in a giant tall building that was just as dark and cold through out its lower levels. She often wondered if everyone else who lived in the building was used to the cold as she was, but she never thought to ask, it was rare she would see anyone else anyway, she was professional and couldn’t deal with others, aside from the girl who she shared her room with, although at times she was completely unbearable.

It had been weeks since she had last seen Max, since their wonderful night together. And since that night, she had been horrible distracted. She couldn’t do anything without seeing his face or hearing his voice in her mind. She could remember the face Max made when he looked at her when he saw her in that dress when she pulled him away to please him, he made her feel so special. And their night together was just the greatest night of her life. She wanted nothing more in that moment then to fall back into his strong chest whilst his arms wrap around her and he whispers to her how beautiful she looked. Her eyes slid shut and she held a dreamy smile on her face.

She could practically hear his hushed voice in her ear as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to replicate his warmth. She could hear his low whispers of praise. She could feel his soft lips pressing against her neck. She was once again in front of his grand fire, the heat from the flames was no match to what he gave her. His living room was bright but his eyes were brighter. His hands all over her body, caressing her skin with his rough fingers, his lips against every part of her making her feel as if she were dreaming. And she was.

“Having fun?” came a teasing voice from behind her. (Y/N) was pulled from her daydream back into the harsh reality of her life. Back into the cold dark room. She saw her friend Mia standing behind her reaching for a file. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were in love” she smirked looking at the file.

“I don’t do love” (Y/N) argued firmly as she straightened her dress. She then stopped again and her friend came and stood next to her, looking at (Y/N) through the mirror.

“What is it about him that’s gotten you like this? You’ve done this a loads of times, this has never happened before. So he must be special, there must be something about him” (Y/N) didn’t answer and just walked away from the mirror over to her desk, she picked up the file that Mia had picked up moments before, which read “MAXWELL LORD” in bold black letters.

Mia let out a soft laugh from behind her “is it his money?” She asked “he could be the richest one you’ve ever been after”

“You know I don’t care about money” (Y/N) muttered. She opened the file and looked at the picture that was clipped inside along with pages of writing that she couldn’t be bothered to read. It was probably all lies anyway. About how vile and self-centred he was, he had proven to her that he was more then the news made him out to be. He was a sweet, caring man.

“So what is it then? His status? His connections?”

“He’s...he’s nice to me”

“He’s nice to you?”

“I’ve done this so many times...giving myself to all of those dirty men for the sake of completing the mission and after all these years, he’s the first person to ask me what I want. No one else has treated me with such care, to them I was an object, a pretty face, but to him...I’m more then that. He’s gentle and kind. He said he likes me. He said I’m the woman of his dreams...” she let a soft smile form on her lips as her fingers gently grazed over his picture “he said that he didn’t believe I was real...”

“He’s just another rich guy looking for a woman to hold on his arm to impress people, (Y/N)” Mia told her.

“You don’t know anything about him” (Y/N) scoffed defensively. “He’s not like everyone else Mia...he’s different”

“He’s different” Mia repeated “there’s no such thing as different. But I will say one thing, he must be quite something you get you in this state. You’re usually the most professional of us. You seem a little distracted all the time, thinking of Mr Lord no doubt. If he’s so different, maybe after this mission you should try it with him, leave this and be with him”

“You say that as if they won’t want me to kill him at the end” (Y/N) said and closed the file “Besides, I can’t see that he’ll welcome me with open arms when he find out who I am”

“If you think that, then maybe he isn’t so different after all”

As much as (Y/N) hated to admit it, Mia was right. If, one day, she told Max who she was, what her job was, and he hated her for it, then he wasn’t the caring person she had thought. But she didn’t want to think he wasn’t, he had given her no reason to suspect that at the first sign of trouble, he would drop her and move on, but she couldn’t deny that that thought was eating away at her mind constantly since meeting him. The thought that he would leave her and she would be alone again.

She quickly shook her head of the thought and grabbed her shoes, quickly pulling them on and storming to the door. “Are you ready?” She asked her friend, more like ordered.

Mia laughed and turned to face her holding out her arms to the side “what do you think? Can you recognise me?”

“I can when you open your mouth” (Y/N) muttered before leaving the room.

The gathering was a charity event at a local history museum. Max didn’t really try his hand in history that much, although he was quite fond of Greek literature, he loved to read about the gods and myths of the ancient world, the love and the tragedy. The museum needed extra funding and what better way to source money then to drain it from the richest people in the city. Maxwell Lord being one of them.

Max was used to the deal by now. Getting hounded by wealthy men and women who all want to flaunt how rich they were to each other, a test to see who had the biggest ego. Talking rubbish about history that they didn’t understand or care to look into. They would try and show off to him about how much they knew, Max was half tempted to correct them but he thought it was funny to hear them big themselves up.

Max tried to play along as best he could, nodding along to whatever they said but he had to admit that his mind was elsewhere. It had been weeks since he had heard anything of (Y/N). And he missed her everyday he was apart from her. He desperately wanted to see her again. He didn’t care what happened between them, whether they return to his home to recreated their night or simply just talk. He didn’t care, being in her presence alone would be enough for him. He had wanted nothing more then to see her smile, hear her voice, look into her beautiful eyes. Just to be near her again.

He figured if he were to see her again, it would be tonight. So he dressed up smarter then he usually would, not that he was ever scruffy looking. He wore he best and most expensive black suit. A crisp white dress shirt, black tie, shining shoes and his hair slicked back. He definitely dressed to impress this evening.

“I’m starting to get the feeling you aren’t a fan of these gatherings Mr Lord” the young gentleman in front of him, who had introduced himself as James Felis said pulling Max’s attention from looking for her to him. He was a clean looking man, clean shaven, dark eyes and dark hair, quite tall but a little shorter then Max. He was new to the business world, his name only just starting to get know. Max had spoken with him a few times at past events, he seemed nice enough, more genuine then most which Max found surprising due to his young age. Max was very arrogant when he was younger, figuring that’s how he would get what he want. He had however mellowed out over the course of his business.

“What makes you say that?” Max asked even though he was right. Max took a sip of his drink and tried to focus on James but him mind betrayed him, her beautiful face was at the forefront of his mind and he couldn’t stop his eyes from wavering around the room they were in. The ancient history wing of the museum, standing beside a painting that depicted the Trojans brining the famed wooden horse into the city walls of Troy that was soon to be destroyed by the Greeks that were hiding inside its belly.

“Every time we speak, your mind seems to be elsewhere. Either your looking for a quick escape or my voice just bores you”

Max let out a stiff chuckle “no, it’s not either really. Just...admiring the outfit choices, always different and of course be art work beside us” he said pointing to the painting with his glass.

“Looking for someone in particular?” James teased as he took a sip of his own drink. “I’m surprised you are not yet in a relationship. Women must be lining up to get a taste of Maxwell Lord. Can’t be difficult for you to find a partner”

“No, you’re right. But, I haven’t found the right one” Max shrugged. He had found the right one. He wasn’t sure if he should admit it, she was so secretive about herself, Max wasn’t sure if he should reveal their little ordeal to a stranger.

“Never would’ve taken you for the sentimental type. Thought you would be like any other rich man”

“And what’s that?”

“Well, you know, sleeping around. Waking up to a different woman in your bed every morning”

“Maybe when I was a little younger” he admitted “but I haven’t done that for a long time. Thought maybe it was time to really start looking. Is that the lifestyle you live by?”

James laughed and shook his head “no, there are a few occasions when I will bring a woman home with me to bed, but not every night, like you, I am also looking for the right woman”

“Excuse me gentlemen” came a soft voice as a woman with fiery red hair slipped into the conversation. Max’s eyes fell on her.

“Hello~” James drew out “and who might you be?”

“Scarlett Diaz” she introduced with an innocent smile holding out her hand to him. He took it and brought it to his lips pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles and winked at her making her giggle “and who might you be?”

“James Felis” he introduced. She then turned to Max. She had unreal blue eyes. Her lips bright red which matched both her hair and her dress.

“And you sir?” She asked in a smooth voice that reminded him of (Y/N). Their voices were almost identical. But it wasn’t her he was looking at. Maybe he was just too obsessed with her that now any woman sounded like her.

“Maxwell Lord” he greeted. He wasn’t as gentlemanly as James had been, opting for just shaking her hand instead.

“Of course, I should’ve know. I’ve heard all about you in the news. Quite the name you’ve made for yourself Mr Lord, I’m impressed. I myself am not much for the spotlight like you seem to be”

“Really?” He said. He looked her up and down and gave her a soft smile “you seem to stand out in a crowd. I’ve never seen hair so red before”

She smiled to him and brushed a strand behind her ear “yes, well, we all need to be a bit adventurous with how we look sometimes. Much better I think then wearing simple black or white. Adds a little colour to people’s lives. Wouldn’t you agree Mr Lord?”

“I would agree” he nodded “although red would not be my colour of choice”

“It would be mine” James chipped in, but he seems to be ignored for the moment.

“And what would your colour of choice be?” She asked him but didn’t give him time to answer “gold perhaps? Or maybe you like a woman in (f/c)”

Max was a little shocked at her words. Confused as well. It could’ve just been a lucky guess, but he felt it was something more then that, as if she knew. “Yes,” he mumbled “I think (f/c) would be favourable to me” he looked away from the woman and took a large swig of his drink finishing it off “excuse me” he nodded curtly to the two in front of him before leaving. He was heading towards the bar to get a drink but something in his mind had stopped him and told him to look right.

And he was gazing into the most beautiful eyes anyone could ever look into.

She was there.

And she was wearing (f/c).

He noticed her give him a soft smile before she walked behind a wall going deeper into the exhibit. He was quick to follow after her, not much caring for another drink now, he wasn’t going to loose her. At some point he had put down his empty glass but he couldn’t recall where.

He rounded the corner and saw her standing alone staring at a painting holding a half filled glass of champagne in her hands.

As he had the night she had first touched him, he straightened himself, regaining his composure before approaching her. He stood next to her but keeping a slight distance, trying his best to resist the urge to wrap his arms around her.

“Beautiful piece” she said not looking at him.

“It is. Are you familiar with the story of Dido?” He asked her, his eyes on her.

“The queen of Carthage. She was shot by Cupid and made to fall in love with the Trojan leader Aeneas by the queen of the gods, Juno’s orders. But he had to leave to found Rome and left her alone in Carthage. So hopelessly in love with him by the gods hands she throws herself onto Aeneas’ sword and dies” she summarised.

“Did you study the stories?”

“Only to make conversation” she shrugged making his laugh softly

“It’s nice to see you again (Y/N)”

“And you Mr Lord”

“Mr Lord?” He repeated raising an eyebrow at her. She turned to face him, taking a teasing sip of her drink.

“Is that not your name?” She asked him “I would’ve thought you would prefer me to call you by your title rather then your first name at such a formal event. Maybe we should keep the use of your first name for when we’re alone”

“Will we be alone again anytime soon?”

“Perhaps” she nodded

“I’ve really missed you”

“You have?”

“You sound surprised” he chuckled “did you think I would forget you?”

“Not exactly” she said “I just thought you would be done with me”

“Clearly you are not done with me” he retorted “if you were, I don’t think you would’ve made yourself known to me tonight”

“I guess you’re right”

“Just so you know, our night together didn’t mean I was done with you, I meant what I said (Y/N), I like you, more than just a sexual liking”

She gave him a light chuckle and sipped her drink again “and I like you too Mr Lord”

“Will you let me take you out to dinner?”

“No” she answered firmly

“Why not?” She paused for a moment “is it because of your job?”

“Partly. But also because I hate people”

“But yet you come to things like this, places full of probably the worst kind of people in this city”

“I know, but I never talk to any of them, I’m very good at hiding. I could stand in the middle of the room and still no one would pay any attention”

“Which I still find hard to believe. Someone as beautiful as you must’ve caught the eye of someone”

She smirked over to him “clearly I have, so what is it about me Mr Lord that interested you to take notice of me? Was it simply just my looks?” She was testing him at this point, seeing if Mia’s theory was right.

“You can’t blame me for being drawn to a woman as beautiful as you. But it wasn’t just your looks, it was how easily you managed to slip away in a split second. One minuet you would be in front of me, the next you would be gone. I was interested to know, as I’ve told you before, if you were real. I’m interested by you’re aura, you have the ability to disappear but then be so obvious like you are now” he brushed a piece of hair behind her ear “there’s something about you that draws me to you but I can’t tell what it is. Maybe it’s your eyes, you’re beautiful eyes, or maybe it’s simply that I don’t understand you, and I wish too”

“What about me do you wish to understand?”

“Who you are”

“I can’t tell you that”

“I know” he nodded “I respect that”

A silence fell over them as they both stared at the painting in front of them. It was a peaceful silence though, they could hear the busy chatter of the guests in the other room but it was mostly muffled but the wall that separated them.

“There’s a woman here tonight who is a lot like you” he said “she looks nothing like you but she has the same feel about her”

“What’s her name?” She asked him.

“I think she said it was Scarlett? Scarlett Diaz”

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard of her before” (Y/N) shrugged

“Well, she seemed to talk the same as you. But maybe that’s just my mind playing tricks on me”

“Maybe”

“If it’s not to much trouble, would you allow me to take you back to my house?”

“What would we get up to there?”

“Anything you want to. It been a while since we’ve seen each other and I’d rather spend time together when I know you can’t slip away from me into a crowd”

“Very well” she nodded with a smile as she finished off her drink “I’ll meet you outside Mr Lord” she held up her glass to him and slipped by him, her hand gliding across his back.

He smiled as he watched her slide into the crowd, but this time he wasn’t worried about loosing her. He quickly made his own way through the crowd outside where his sleek black car was waiting. He leant against the car and looked to the entrance of the museum waiting for her.

It didn’t take long for her to emerge from the entrance. Looking like a queen, a goddess from the stories he loved to read, to be honest, he would be surprised if she was in fact a goddess in disguise. She seemed to glow as she walked carefully down the steps to the museum, holding her dress up slightly to ensure she didn’t trip.

He held his hand out to her and helped her down the last few steps and opened up the car door for her “after you my lady” he said with a polite smile, she couldn’t help but blush as she got into his car. He slid into the seat next to her and told his driver to take them back to his house.

He couldn’t help but look at her the entire way, how radiant she looked, the way she gazed out of the window, her eyes every so often catching the warm orange glow of the streetlights they passed. He couldn’t resist touching her anymore, it was warm gesture and it sent her heart into over drive.

He rested his hand on her knee. Her gazed was pulled from out the window to his hand and she smiled “you look so beautiful tonight (Y/N)” he complimented.

“Thank you Max” she said.

“Back to first name basis?” He asked with a soft smirk.

“Well, we are alone” she shifted slightly so her body was now facing him, her hand running up and down his arm. “You look a lot smarter than usual. Is this a new suit?”

“Newish” she shrugged “I’ve only worn it once, it’s my best suit. Only for the most special occasions”

“Did you dress up all nice and fancy for me baby?” She asked him in a seductive whisper “because I don’t think that event classes as a special occasion”

“Wanted to look my best for you baby” he said in a broken whisper. She looked to where the drive would be and saw a dark screen that blocked them from him.

“How long till we get there?” She asked him. Max looked out of the window.

“Maybe about...20 minuets?” He guessed. He heard the click of her seatbelt undo and she was quickly on his lap, straddling his waist.

“Do you think 20 minuets is enough time?” She asked as she bit her bottom lip. He nodded rapidly and swallowed thickly, his hands coming to rest on her hips. “I don’t want to make a mess on your fancy suit”

“I don’t care. You could fucking rip it to pieces if you wanted to” He panted slightly to her, he leaned forwards to kiss her but she smirked and pulled back.

“Well I don’t want to do that baby” she chuckled, she reached between their bodies and unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers. She reached into his boxers and pulled out his length. She stroked him a few times and he shuddered, his eyes never leaving hers.

She slowly sunk down his body and ran her tongue over the head of his dick “(Y-Y/N)” he whimpered. She then licked up his entire length and he let out a pathetic noise that was sent straight to her core. She hummed happily against him and took as much as she could of him into her mouth, what she couldn’t fit in her mouth she pumped with her hand. He whimpered and whined pathetically as he thrust his hips up into her slightly, his head falling back and his eyes sliding shut. “(Y/N)” he moaned, his fingers sliding into her hair. “I want to be inside you” he muttered.

She immediately pulled him out of her mouth, a small bit of drool sliding down her chin. She got back onto his lap and he lifted his thumb and wiped her saliva away from her chin. He brought his thumb to his lips and slipped it past them, sucking her drool off him.

She smiled to him and bit her bottom lip “such a good boy for me aren’t you” she praised lightly. He nodded and removed his thumb from her lips. She moved one of her hands under her dress between their bodies and moved her panties to one side and took him back into her hand. She aligned him with her entrance and slowly sunk down onto him. He let out a harsh breath when she did and he gripped her hips tightly.

(Y/N) began bouncing on him almost immediately, Max’s eyes grew heavy and eventually closed as his head fell backwards again “oh baby, you feel so good” he groaned. She hummed in response and placed her lips to his neck, sucking on the skin between his neck and his jaw. His finger tips dug into her hips as he moaned out her name multiple times, repeating it as if it were some kind of chant.

Her hands slid up to his hair and she grabbed the strands and pulled his head up “I want you to look at me while I fuck you” she ordered in a whispered to him. His eyes opened and met with her seductive glare that made him shake and whimper.

“Will...will you choke me?” He asked quietly, his cheeks flushing bright red at his request, he felt so small but he loved it, he loved the dominance she had over him in that moment. He loved the way she looked at him, the way she spoke to him, she way she felt around him. “P-please?”

He looked at her with wide eyes, puppy eyes. Big, brown and beautiful. Pleading her to grant him his wish and she was more then happy to comply, she just hoped that she wouldn’t be too hard on him. She moved one of her hands from his hair and wrapped her fingers around his neck, applying light pressure. “H-harder” he breathed when she pulled his hair.

She did as he ask, her fingers getting tighter around his neck as she rolled her hips against her. His moan came out broken and it made her groan. She could feel his dick twitching inside her and she decided to go faster. He was struggling to keep his eyes open, the pleasure and lack of air was making his head spin in the best possible way, he couldn’t help but smile as she fucked him.

“You like that?” She smirked into his ear, her heavy breaths going straight through him “you like to be dominated? You like having my hand around you neck?”

“Yes...yes I do (Y/N)” he gasped and nodded “oh fuck, I’m gonna come” he moaned shakily. He moved one hand from her hips and grabbed her wrist, pushing it into his neck. “Fuck! (Y/N)!” He yelled as he came suddenly inside of her, his hips bucked wildly up into, his body shaking. The warmth of his come and the sight of him falling apart was enough to send her over the edge, her walls clenching around him making his head fall back.

She removed her hand from his neck and noticed it was slightly red but she could tell it wouldn’t stay like that for very long. She slowly slipped off him and tucked him back into his boxers and tidied him up a bit, he was too fucked out to do it himself. She sat beside him again and slowly ran her hand up and down his heaving chest while he came down from his high.

He let out a low breath and turned his head to look at her, his eyes opened and they were blown black with desire. She smiled at him “did you like that Max?” She teased.

“Yes” he nodded “I really did...I’ve never...never felt so good...”

“I’m glad you liked it baby” she leaned forwards and pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss. He took her hand in his, interlacing their fingers together when he pulled away to look out of the car window. She looked at their joined hands and her heart swelled. Such a small action, but it meant the world to her.

“I think we’re nearly there” he said quietly, his breath slowly coming back to him. She hummed in acknowledgement and lifted their joined hands to her lips and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and smiled to her. “How about, when we get back, we take a bath together?” He offered. She shuffled closer to him, bringing their joined hands to rest on her lap while her head rested on his shoulder.

“I’d like that” she hummed. He pressed a soft kiss to her head and they sat in a comfortable silence for the remaining few minuets of the car journey.

15/04/20

[miss-tc-nova]

Sunrise - Jihyun/V x Fem!Reader Pt 8

Angst over! Fluffy and/or general idiocy for the rest of the series. Though I definitely had some fun writing this one. 

Part 8: Crumbling

                Over the next few weeks, I spend my time packing up my little studio and getting rid of things I won’t need. I know that it’s too early to be moving out thanks to my lease but I’m so excited that I want to get out of here as soon as possible; or rather, I want to be living with Jihyun as soon as possible.

                Still questioning myself a bit, I knock on the door before letting myself in. “Jihyun?”

                “Right here.” He comes downstairs and greets me with a kiss. “Have all your things packed?”

                “Yeah. Are you sure you’re fine with me moving in?” I question.

                “Of course,” he replies, kissing my forehead. “I’m excited we can move to the next stage of our relationship. Do you need help with your things?”

                “Up to you. I’ve only got a couple of boxes though. I did live in a tiny studio after all. If I don’t finish unpacking today, it’s because I was slacking.”

                “That sounds like something you would do,” he chuckles.

                “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I kiss his chin and head back outside to grab boxes. Jihyun’s followed me outside meaning he wants to help. Happily, I place a heavier box in his arms. “Sorry. This one has some books in it.”

                “It’s fine,” he replies, heading back for the house.

                We make another few trips before the car is empty. Most of it has gone to the bedroom since most of what I own is clothing or personal things. One box ends up in the kitchen and another two in the living room. I sit among the stuff in the bedroom when Jihyun walks in.

                “How goes-Aaah!” The man falls flat on his face.

                When I get the laughing under control, I let him know, “The funny thing is, you put that box there.”

                With a heavy sigh, Jihyun pushes himself off the floor to sit across from me. “Still, I wouldn’t have tripped over it if you had finished unpacking like you were supposed to.”

                “I told you I would be slacking off.” Crawling forward, I brush his hair from his brow. “Are you okay?”

                “Now you’re concerned?” he huffs.

                “Come on. If it had been me...actually, if it had been me you would’ve had a meltdown.” Gently, I pull him in to place a kiss on his forehead. “Do you want me to get you an ice pack?”

                “No. It’s not that bad. So how much have you really unpacked.”

                I glance around. “Actually, I think that’s the last box.”

                “Of course it is.” He rubs at the red mark forming across his forehead. “Well, I was hoping to cuddle up and watch a movie, but I guess that’s out of the question.”

                “Why not? I’ve only got one box left,” I reply.

                “Because you’re a procrastinator. It’ll probably take you the rest of the evening to unpack that one box,” he argues.

                “Come on,” I whine. “I’m sick of unpacking! This box can wait until tomorrow.”

                “I don’t know. If it doesn’t get done now, who knows when you’ll get to it.” He’s clearly picking on me at this point.

                “Don’t make me throw the cursed vase at you.”              

                “It’s really concerning that that has become a genuine threat…” A hand atop my head ruffles my hair. “Now come on. Finish unpacking.”

                “But Jihyun!”

                “It’s one box. Just get it over with. Then we can talk about a movie.”

                “Fine.”

                It’s just my luck that the final box turns out to be shoes. They all end up in the closet with the rest of my clothes. Happy to finally be done with that nonsense, I amble downstairs where Jihyun is listening to the radio on the sofa.

                Apparently, he hears me coming. “Didn’t I tell you to finish unpacking?”

                “Joke’s on you. It was full of shoes.”

                A brow rises. “Did you actually put the shoes away or just throw them in the closet?”

                “Well they’re not organized if that’s what you’re asking. So are we gonna watch a movie or not?”

                “Only if you make the popcorn.”

                “Oh yeah? Are you gonna pick the movie?”

                “Do you care what movie?”

                “No.”

                “Then sure.”

                I roll my eyes and spend a few minutes popping popcorn in the kitchen. When I come back, I find the man still sprawled across the sofa, not having moved a muscle.

                “Did you pick a movie?” I ask sarcastically, knowing full well the answer.

                Jihyun gets up, walks over to the shelf of movies, and with no method behind it, grabs a random movie.

                “Movie picked,” he says with a bit of a smug grin.

                I smirk. “Wow. I didn’t realize you were dumb enough to put your porn with your regular movies.”

                Immediately, his face flushes. “What?! Th-This isn’t-It’s not supposed be here! I-”

                Laughing, I walk over to him and tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “I’m just kidding.” I slip the movie from his hand, but notice the other across his still blushing face. He’s praying I didn’t catch what he said. “Jihyun?”

                “Y-Yes, darling?”

                I can’t help the sneaky smile. “You have porn movies hidden somewhere don’t you?”

                It feels like Christmas seeing his face as red as a tomato. “I-I-I may...have one or two...” Loving the embarrassment, I just sit and grin for a moment. “Darling?...Honey?” I take off for the stairs. My rapid footsteps probably cue him in to what I’m doing. “Wait!”

                My brain quickly rushes through where I’d expect a mood-stricken Jihyun to hide such things. I check the closet because it’s closer but find nothing. There’s a crash coming from the stairs and a cursing Jihyun. I rush around the bed and hit the floor.

                Box! Bingo!

                I pull the box open and, just as expected, it’s a dirty box. Jihyun bursts into the room, a frantic, red mess. He pauses, listening intently for me, panting, “_____?” I keep quiet just a second longer to examine the box. “Darling?”

                “It’s just become so much clearer why you love playing with the fabric of my dresses,” I sing, noting the scrap of silken fabric. He might pass out if any more blood rushes to his face. “And dominating women?”

                He heads straight for me, leaping across the bed, but I’ve already backed out of range. The blue haired man gives in, lying face first on the bed, groaning.

                I dance around the bed, crawling on it to sit across him and dig my fingers into his back. “You know, you’re so easy to get worked up.” His response is muffled. “What was that, sweetheart?”

                He raises his head just enough to retort, “Shut up.”

                Laughing, I continue working across his muscles. “It’s really nothing to be ashamed about. With how you were acting I thought it’d be something really kinky like hardcore bondage or something. Though I guess you’d prefer to be the one tied up, hmm?” He groans again. “Seriously, sweetheart. It’s fine. Even I’ve got a few hidden things.” I lean in closer to his ears. “And I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing you crumble beneath me.” He does nothing and I slip my hands under the fabric of his shirt, lightly dragging my nails across the skin. “Making you moan my name and beg for me. Arms above your head while I get to mark you however I want.”

                With a huff, Jihyun holds a hand over his shoulder. Curious, I slip my hand into his. I didn’t see it coming; he pulls me down rapidly, throwing me onto the bed and getting up to lean over me. There’s a dark lust in his eyes that instantly destroys the dominating persona I used to tease him.

                “Darling, while I’m very intrigued by your attempts at inspiring me, you misread the title.” His voice drops to a husky whisper. “It’s dominating women.” As the realization hits me, I feel the blood rush to my face. “As in, you will crumble beneath me.” He leans in closer, his hand sliding up my arm to cup my face. “Now I bet you wish you didn’t find the box.”

                His other hand had a firm grip on my thigh, pulling it up to wrap around his waist. I feel my heart beating louder in my ears and he leans in to kiss me. It’s hot and passionate and full of lust that gets my stomach squirming and I writhe beneath him. The kiss ends with a “chu” and we both breathe heavily. His forehead rests against mine but the chuckle puts me on guard.

                “That backfired on me a little.”

                “Then what’s your plan from here?” I ask. “You’ve got me pinned to the bed and bothered. Going to use one of those fancy ties next? Or would you prefer me on my knees before you tie me up?”

                His nose scrunches at me and he gets off me. “Alright. Enough playing around.”

                I sit up. “So you’re not going to punish me?”

                “Don’t tempt me,” he warns in that tone that sends goosebumps across my skin. “I mean it. If you keep teasing me, we might end up doing something neither of us are prepared for.”

                Honestly, he’s already pushed me that far. My desire gets the better of me and I slide a leg across his lap, lean closer, and draw my tongue along the shell of his ear, earning a shaky exhale from that. “But you already seem so prepared,” I coo darkly.

                “You’re making it very difficult to resist you, darling.” His voice has the most subtle hint of a tremor as I trail my mouth down his neck. I can definitely feel that struggle.

                In a sweet, soft, mischievous voice, I breathe against his skin, “Then don’t.”

                The trembling grows stronger. “Are you sure?”

                My hands slip up the front of his shirt, exploring his chest while my mouth finally reaches that weak spot. His moan, concealed behind a sigh, is music to my ears, but it’s nothing compared to the reaction I get when I bite with the intent of leaving a mark. His hands grip tighter at my hips, his body presses tighter against me, he gasps at the shock, and I’m impressed he hasn’t given in yet based on how worked up he is.

                “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I giggle.

                “I need to hear you say it,” he begs. “Are you sure?”

                Even when it’s the thing he wants most, Jihyun’s still trying to be chivalrous and considerate. It’s kind of sweet, but also a serious weakness on his part. Still, I guess if I’m going to get what I want, I need to also be considerate.

                “Yes, I’m sure.”

                Once again, I’m lying on the bed before I fully understand what’s happening. And even as the instigator, I’m helpless against the lust he exudes. “Thank god.” His teeth take to my neck and now it’s my turn to play the victim. “I hope you didn’t have anything else planned for tonight,” he says in between kisses.

                I can barely get the words out. “What do you mean?”

                “I plan to take my time.” Goosebumps shoot across my skin when I feel his tongue against my neck. “This is our first time together and I want it to be perfect. Plus, now I get to see all of you and I want to memorize every inch.” I could melt. “Are you blushing, my darling?”

                “Does it matter?”

                “Yes. Because I want to picture the face you’ll be wearing when you’re moaning for me.”

                “Then yes.”